“Motherfucker” You groan as the morning sun shines into your eyes. The warm comforting tendrils of sleep fighting hard to drag you back into their domain.
Attempting to roll over you feel a tug at your side. Tossing off your blanket you see Ruth clinging to you like a tick.
“Alright kiddo time to wake up.” You say, fluffing her hair trying to wake her up.
“Nooo Patty, five more minutes.” She mumbles into your side, squeezing harder.
“Alright five more minutes, kid.” You say laying back down, entrapped in this warm prison for the time being. Blindly reaching down for the canteen you have under your bed, you grope around until you feel something. Grimacing before muttering out a “That better not be what I think it is.” You look over to see Patty’s blond mane spilled out next to your bed.
Working you hand over to Patty’s face you get to work, flicking at her forehead near the eyes and pinching her cheeks. Unfortunately she must be a heavy sleeper because your efforts to wake her yield no effect. Deciding to abandon your original objective to reach into the top drawer of your night stand and grab the flask you keep in there. After some frankly unnatural finger movements to open the flask you pour its contents onto Patty’s face.
That does the trick as Patty jumps to her feet, ready for a fight.
“Morning princess, a little help with this.” You say motioning to the pint sized gorilla that's clinging to you.
“In a second once the world stops spinning.” She says, before dry heaving.
“If you're gonna hurl, use the window, it's closer.” You say.
She does just that, sprinting to the window and emptying the contents of her stomach into the alley below. After a minute she wipes her mouth and walks over to the bend and whispers into Ruth's ear.
“Ruth sweetie it's time to wake up, you're going to miss breakfast. I’m making pancakes.” Patty says softly into the small girl's ear. That seems to have done the trick as the small girl bolts up and over you and into the hall screaming pancakes the entire way down. Leaving you lying in pain on the bedroom floor.
“Wait, that's all it took.” You squeak out through pained breaths.
“Yeah, she pops right up when you mention food, especially breakfast.” She says suppressing a laugh at your current state.
“And what's this I heard about pancakes?” You say from your prone position.
“Yeah it's one of the few things that are a surefire way to get her up immediately.” She says scratching the back of her head. “I’ll make some after I wash up, where’s the bathroom by the way?.”
“Take a left down the hall and it will be the last door on the right.” You say, before heaving.
“Thanks, by the way, are you alright?” Patty asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just give me a second and I’ll be right out to help you with breakfast.” You say over labored breaths.
“Alright if you say so, I’ll be out in a minute.” She says walking off to the showers.
“Jesuss fuck this hurts.” You seethe out as you appraise your wound. “Why does it look worse than when I got kicked by that horse? Well at least nothing’s torn, burst or bleeding, just bruised.”
After a few minutes the pain finally subsides and you get yourself cleaned up. You come out to find the place trashed. Bottles litter the floor, tables have been flipped, another window has been shattered, and you notice a shell casing next to your foot.
“The fuck did we do last night?” You say.
“The better question is what didn’t we do?” a voice calls out from under a flipped chair.
“Vinny, when did you get here?” You ask.
“Me and the boys got here right around the time somebody got thrown out the window.” He says crawling out from under the chair.
“Please tell me there isn’t a dead body in the street right now.” You say rubbing your eyes.
“You don’t have to worry about that, he hit the roof of my truck and ran back in. In fact he's right over there.” He says pointing toward a man passed out over a broken table.
“Oh thank god, MPs are the last thing we need to be dealing with right now.” You sigh out in relief.
“Yeah, you making breakfast or something?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’m going to get breakfast started. Can you start getting people up? I don’t want a repeat of last time” You say to your cousin while wiping the last dregs of sleep out of your mind.
“Yeah I got yah, I’ll get them up.” He says.
“Thanks.” You say before making you way over to the kitchen.
As you approach you hear a cry of “You gotta be fucking shitting me.” Turning you see Jenny looking at one of the photographs on the wall.
“Jenny, what are you screaming about this early in the morning? If it's not an attack or MPs I’m gonna shove my fist so far up your…” Maria shouts.
“Maria, it's Matron DeGroot.” Jenny says.
“Oh fuck where? That hag’s gonna kill us!” Maris says, her eyes frantically searching the dining room.
With that outburst several girls jump up awake, ready for a fight. Their faces painted with a mix of dread and panic.
“No, the picture. It's of a young Matron DeGroot and she's absolutely shitfaced.” Jenny says.
“Oh I got to see this!” Shanon exclaims.
“Hey let me see.” Sarah says.
“Damn, she’s got an entire bottle between those things.”
You give out a sigh as you realize what photo they are looking at. It was one of the photos taken during the bar's grand reopening on the night prohibition was lifted. It features a witch in a bunny suit drinking from a bottle wedged between her ample bosom.
“Hey Artemio, where in the hell did you guys get this photo?” Maria’s question snaps the gaggle of girls away from the photo as they turn their attention towards you.
“Yeah Arty, what's the story behind this one?” Jenny asks.
“It was taken at this place’s grand reopening back in 33. The story goes that a witch looted her coven’s liquor cellar to supply this place, drank her fill and drunkenly wandered off into the night. That photo is the only proof we found for the story. But I’ve heard about a witch known as the Speakeasy Saddlebred from some of the old timers.” You say stretching your arms.
“Damn, who knew Matron stick up her ass was such a wild child.” Shanon says.
“Indeed the thought that such a stern and composed woman has such a wild and loose past is surprising.” Hikari says.
“Yeah I’m so gonna use this on her the next time she tries to grill us on something stupid.” Jenny says.
“It’s your funeral, she’s gonna kill you if you go through with it.” Alexis says.
At this point you decide to leave the girls to their squabbling. Making your way into the kitchen that was thankfully spared from the night's trashing. Putting a pot of coffee on the stove, you duck into the fridge and pull out a large amount of bacon, sausage, eggs, and a log of Taylor Ham.
“So what's on the menu for this morning?” Dyna says walking into the kitchen.
“Everything, you name it I’m making it, Walker.” You say as you tend to the griddle.
“Nice, what about that cinnamon thing?” He asks.
“Not happening, takes too much prep time.” You say as you flip a few sausages.
“And the pancakes?”
“Patty’s making those.” You say as you move a few things to the cooler side of the griddle.
“So we're really going back out there.” Dyna says as he pours himself a cup of coffee.
“Lotta country out there, who else do you think they're sending out?” You say as you turn to face Dyna. Not that many people made it across the Mississippi, even fewer could be reasonably sent out to fight.
“Don’t know anything for sure but my money’s on Ravens, Wildcats, the Lizard Creek gang, and maybe Morrison’s boys.” Dyna drawls as he leans his weight against the counter.
“So what are we doing if we run into them? Because I still owe Ravens for the knife in my back out in Cawker City.” You say, as the dull pull of your scar enters into the back of your mind with its mentioning.
“Yeah I remember, but we’ll cross the bridge when we get there.” Dyna said. “I don’t want the army on our asses because you and Goose decided to get some payback in front of an entire fucking platoon.” He emphasizes, pointing at you.
“Hey, we're smarter than that.” You jokingly protest as the griddle sizzles as you pile more fatty bacon onto it.
“Really” He says, giving you the look, the one that burrows through the back of your head, that look. “What about the tank?” He questions dryly.
“It was a good plan at the time besides me and Goose pulled it off.” You say regrettably in your defense.
“You stole a tank from the army, while they were actively hunting us and then proceeded to use it to rob a bank. And then disappeared for two months afterwards leaving a note as our only notice.” Dyna explains dryly.
“In my defense, we still had the feds hunting for us in Yellowstone until after the Martians landed.” You say pointing your spatula at Dyna.
“Yeah, but you lost half of it in the mountains.” Dyna retorts, walking over to the strove to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“I’m never going to live that down, aren't I?” You sigh as you slide the bacon off the griddle and onto a baking sheet.
“Yeah no. You’re not living that one down for a while. But it could be worse, I could still be busting your balls about the ferry.” He says sipping his coffee.
“Alright you got me there, but don’t act like you haven’t done anything similar. Remember Whitney?” You say as you smugly lean on the counter.
“Ahk Arty, I thought we agreed to not talk about that again.” He coughs out in surprise, choking on his coffee. “Now where’s that witch that was supposed to be making pancakes.” He says desperately trying to change the subject.
You have him now press the counterattack.
“Oh hell no, you’re not getting out of this that easily. She led you on for months and then ran off with all your money.” You say as you press your advantage.
“Arty if you really want to play this game you really should consider how much stupid shit you've done over the years.” Dyna says, straightening out his back and setting down his coffee.
“Alright let's do this. In no particular order, Abilene, Yuma, Pueblo, Sioux City, Elko,” You start to list off with your hand.
“Wichita, El Paso, Mackinaw, Casper, Boise,” Dyna echos.
“Birmingham, Provo, Omaha.” You both say in tandem.
“There is no way in hell that Birmingham was my fault.” Dyna snaps. The joking tone of his previous ribbing gone from his voice.
“And there is no way Provo was mine” You respond in kind.
“So you admit that Omaha was your fault? Dyna inquiries.
“I didn’t hear you deny your involvement in it as well.” You reply.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“You two talking about the invasion?” A new voice chimes in.
You both jump and turn to face the eavesdropper, a nod between you and Dyna sets the tone as three taps on your side tell you to start talking. “Hey Patty, didn’t hear you come in. I got the stuff for the pancakes in the corner over there.” You say motioning to the pile of ingredients on the other side of the kitchen.
The blonde witch shrugs, sauntering over to the corner of the kitchen set aside for her, her hips sashaying as she walks. “So what were you two talking about before I walked in?” Patty aimlessly questions as she goes over the pile of ingredients laid out on the counter. “Wait, forget that better question. How in the hell did yous guys get real flour?” She questions, leaning her back against the counter as she stares the two of you down.
“No, we were in Sioux City when the Squids first landed. Got driven down towards Omaha, had a front row seat to them landing a good dozen dreadnoughts right on top of the city.” Dyna explains as he walks behind you. Giving you a soft shove Dyna says. “As for your second question, Arty is in charge of our procurement.” Before walking off.
“Hey Dyna, where you going!” You exclaim towards the back of your fleeing leader.
“I gotta check on Bobby, make sure he’s got the bikes ready. We do have to be at the front by nightfall.” He says with a wave not bothering to turn around as he walks out of the kitchen.
“Fucking jackass, always disappearing at random.” You mumble under your breath as you turn your attention back to the witch. “Alright, you were asking about the flour right?” You question pointing at the bag on the counter behind Patty.
“Yeah, where the hell did you get this?” She questions picking up the jar of flour. “Government issue flour is a mix of wheat, corn and potatoes. And yet you got a jar full of white wheat flour, the covens can barely even get this shit.” She rapidly exclaims putting the jar back on the counter. After a few deep breaths in what you think is an attempt to recompose herself, she asks. “So uh, where did you get the flour?”
“Got it from a Canadian detachment a few months back. Traded a few kegs of beer to them in exchange for some real flour.” You explain, as you return your attention to the griddle.
Patty quickly got to work whipping together the pancake batter with familiar ease. Claiming a section of the griddle for herself as you start plating the rest of the food. Realizing that this is a lot more than you can carry you contemplate calling for help to carrying it all out before deciding that you are a big guy. You can carry all ten platters on you own. You decide to start stacking all of the plates onto your arms and with a wobble you begin to make your way out of the kitchen and into the dining room, hoping that it had been put back together after last night's party.
And it's surprisingly intact, the flipped tables have been righted and pushed together, the scattered playing cards and loose bottles have been picked up and the shattered glass from the window was even swept up. It was an open hole in the side of the building that was letting the humidity in but it is better than before.
“Jesus fuck, yous guys got this place cleaned up.” You say to your cousin and his squad of goons.
“No shit cousin, we’ve had to clean up worse could have gone without that sparkle over there trying to smack us with a riding crop whenever something wasn’t up to her standards though.” He replies, pointing to a young witch rifling through the bar looking for plates and cutlery.
“Alright, just get these platters off me and I’ll get her CO to deal with her.” You say motioning to the food you're balancing on your arms. “Fucking crazy sparkles.” You mumble below your breath.
You hear a cry of “I HEARD THAT!” from the corner of your eye and you scramble to safely deposit the food onto the table before the inevitable slap ruins your already fragile balance. The hit comes hard and fast, but it wasn't the slap you expected. You grit your teeth as you double over in pain from the gut punch you just received as the witch begins a hot headed rant in a language you are all too familiar with yet still barely understand: Italian.
As the witch goes on in the tongue of your ancestors, a feeling wiggles its way into the back of your mind as genetic memories of what must be done rush through your tongue.
“You’re really doing this, we haven’t even known each other for a full day and yet you're mad enough to be doing this.” You begin as the witch’s speed and intensity increases. “But you what fuck it.” You yell out as you begin your own counter rant, mostly a string of rebuttals to the bits and pieces of rapid Italian that you could make out and understand.
This goes on for a few minutes as both of your points and words become less and less coherent. Inevitably ending like every Italian fight with the girl reaching for and throwing the closest object available at you. And like most times it was a plate.
Ducking to the side as the plate flies past you, its trajectory arced at the doorway to the garage and at Goose who was standing in it.
Goose catches the plate with a simple wave of his arm. “Do I even want to know about this?” He says gesturing to the plate.
“Don’t worry, just heeding the call of my blood” You reply.
“Riiiight. Anyway Bobby finished his once of over on the kruat’s trike.” He says, walking over to the table and snagging a piece of bacon.
“Great, what are we working with?”
“With some creative packing, we could have an extra week’s worth of food or enough ammo for a prolonged fire fight.” Goose explains leaning against a chair.
“Bobby can’t hook up a trailer to it?” You ask, slipping behind the bar to grab the rest of the plates.
“Not enough time, and he doesn’t think it would be worth the effort.” Goose replies.
“So I’m not the only one that thinks he’ll die before we clear the cloud.” You say, straightening yourself out and walking over to the table.
“Hey can you grab the guys?” You ask Goose as you start setting the table.
“Dyna and Bobby should be coming up any minute now, Gecko’s packing and I have no idea where the kruat is.” Goose replies.
“I swear to god if he's wearing anything like what he wore yesterday. I'm going to kill him.” You say as you sit down and wait for Patty.
It isn't long before Patty comes out, arms laden with mountains of pancakes and a gaggle of witches following behind her.
You exchange glares with Feliciana as Walker and Bobby come up from the garage with Gecko on their heels. As you start to load up your plate the Lukas walks in.
You decide to ignore the walking crime against western and German fashion that is your German tagalong. And instead decide to layer your plate high with a mountain of buttermilk goodness that was promised at the start of this morning.
Upon your first bite you make a note that it tastes almost exactly like how your mother used to make them when you were a child. As you finish your plate, you realize that it is exactly how your mother used to make them.
“Hey Patty, these are really good. Where did you get the recipe?” You ask, silently praying that it is just a coincidence.
“Oh these.” Patty says motioning to the plate of pancakes before her. “I was taught this recipe by the matron of the Paterson Coven back when I studied.” She replies.
Oh it is your mother’s recipe, OH SHIT IT’S YOUR MOTHER”S RECIPE. Fear and dread fill your mind as you imagine what your mother will do to you once she finds you.
You ran off west without a word and never got back in contact with her. You kept in touch with your brother and thankfully to your knowledge he hasn’t ratted you out yet. But you know that once your mother gets a whiff of your location she’ll move heaven and earth to get to you and then she’ll kill you after finding out why you’re in the army.
“Hey Artie, Earth of Artie.” Sarah says. Snapping you out of your thoughts as you come back to reality.
“Sorry, what was that?” You quickly reply, trying to figure out what you missed.
“I asked how you were going to get past The Cloud.” Patty replies before tossing a price of Taylor Ham into her mouth.
You watch her eyes light up at the taste of the meat as you ponder her question. You really don't know how you're going to get past the cloud. The twenty mile wide mountain of perpetual black smoke that exists along the western bank of the Mississippi. It has proven to be nigh impassible but Davenport and St Louis are still holding on.
“Gas masks and CC2.” You reply, focusing your attention more on your food than the girls’ reaction to that information.
“You are all going to die in that cloud.” The Japanese witch bluntly states in her monotone voice.
This garners a reaction from your compatriots as cries of “Hey” “Oh” and “Don’t jinx us” echo across the table.
“What, it's true. You're going in there with no plan and basically only the clothes on your backs. You're going to get killed” Hikari states, defending herself.
“Ye of little faith.” Proclaims Walker from his seat at the table. “You really think we would attempt to cross the Mississippi without a plan?”
“Considering that we met you while you were in the middle of a street brawl that turned into a fight with armed Martians. Yes I don’t find it hard to believe that you’d try to cross the cloud without a plan.” Hikari bluntly replies while picking at her food.
“Yean, she’s got our number all right. Remember that time in Santa Fe when you ACK.” Bobby starts before Goose quickly kicks him in the shin to keep him quiet as Walker gives him the look. “Nevermind.”
“We do have a plan for this one.” Goose says, throwing a piece of bacon in his mouth.
“For the crossing?” Hikari questions.
You watch Goose’s smug expression deflate as he formulates a response.
As Goose squirms in his seat, you stare down Dyna, then glance at Goose. Mouthing out me or you while motioning between the three of you with your fork.
Dyna repeats the motions towards you but he only mouths out the word you. He’s trying to get you to bail Goose out.
This repeats several times with increasing intensity until a thought enters your mind.
What happened to those Martians from last night.
You quickly shrug off the thought and return to your breakfast. Spearing a piece of sausage and some pancake on your fork. Munching down on your combination, you feel the force of eighty four eyes boring into your skull. Looking up with your fork still in your mouth, you ask. “Did I say that out loud?”
The silent stares from the table are broken by Bobby shouting out “No shit dumbass!” from his leaned back chair before almost falling backwards in a fit of laughter.
It was at that moment that an explosion rips the main doors off their hinges and sends them flying over your heads.
Everyone at the table jolts to their feet as you sprint towards the bar and the shotgun underneath it. Quietly cursing yourself for leaving your pistols in your room. As you leap over the front of the bar, you hear the sound of Goose firing his revolver into the doorway.
Scrambling on your hands and knees you grab the old trench gun and fumble with the bayonet before attaching it to the barrel. Despite your typical left handedness when it comes to firearms you decide to hold it in your right hand due to the ease the position gives to slam firing. Taking in a deep breath you leap up and fire into the cloud of smoke that masks the doorway. Rapidly depleting the shells in the gun, you swap hands in order to reload. And that is when you realize. One, the gun was loaded with dragon's breath shells, two the giant witch’s shield that is covering the doorway, and three the hoard of MPs leveling their guns at you behind said shield.
“Fuck.” You say as you lay down the trench gun and raise your arms.
The witch marches forward, her eyes scanning the room. You can swear you can see the hint of familiarity reflected in her eyes as she turns to the gaggle of terrified girls standing at attention around the breakfast table. The witch takes a deep breath before bellowing out “GIRLS WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING!”.
You watch Ruth hide behind Patty as Alexis steps forward with a smug shit eating grin on her face. “Just having breakfast, Saddlebred.” Alexis says smugly.
“What did you call me?” The witch states out, staring down the small girl with a stare that could cut through steel and a tone that you are all too familiar with. The tone of a matron that is done with her students shit.
You share a glance and a smirk with Goose as you are both cuffed by the MPs and thrown onto a couch. Dyna, Bobby,Gecko and your cousin’s goons slipped out when the shooting started.
“Alright, how fucked are we?” You ask Goose. Eyeing the smattering of MPs walking around the main room.
“Very.” Goose says, fiddling with his cuffs.
“Hey you two.” The matron says addressing you and Goose.
“Yes mam.” You squeak out trying to change your voice while
Goose gives out a grunt.
“You two must have a lot of guts pulling the stunt you just did. Not many are brave or stupid enough to get into a shootout with a witch.” The matron says, approaching you, her hips swaying as she walks. The fury in her eyes appears to have dissipated and you swear you can see a phantom chuckle escape her lips.
You trade a nervous look with Goose, both of you know there’s going to be no easy way out of this.
“Now tell me boys, where did your friends run off to?” The matron says, staring at you with hunger in her eyes. “Staying quiet will not help your case. My men will find them and you will be punished for attempting to defile my girls.”
You and Goose share a look and a shrug at that last part. Wondering where in the hell she got that idea from.
“Luring them in with luxurious dinners, fancy drinks, and fabulous nights on the town before taking them back to your rooms to do whatever depraved acts you want to them.” The matron continues, hugging her sides as she delves deeper into her fantasies.
You watch Patty scramble to cover Ruth’s ears as Alexis listens in with fascination. While Maria looks on, her dumbfounded expression being the only outlier in the gaggle of blushing witches.
You shove your hands into the couch cushions, searching for anything that could break your cuffs. You're fairly sure of your ability to cause a big enough distraction to buy walker and the rest of the guys enough time to do whatever the hell they're doing. But with your hands free you can cause a hell of a lot more trouble with your hands free.
“And then you’ll leave them in a back alley, bare as they were born, covered in nothing but Vaseline and semen.” The matron continues on, completely unaware of your efforts to free yourself.
As you feel around the inside of the couch your fingers glance along a bumpy surface and one gets caught in something. “Did we stash any grenades in this couch?” You whisper over to Goose.
“I don’t think so, wait why are you asking?” Goose asks, his eyes perpetually tracking all the movement in the room.
“Well I found one.” You say, grabbing the grenade and pulling it out of the couch cushions.
“Give it to me. Why is it sticky?” Goose asks, scooting over to take the grenade from your hand.
“Fuck if I know. I just found the thing.” You say, glancing towards Goose as you wrap the cuff’s chain around your hands as you prepare to brute force your way out of them.
As you start to apply pressure to the chain you notice that the matron has stopped her ramblings and is staring directly at you.
“Fuck” You curse as you increase the pressure on the chain. You grit your teeth as your hands begin burning under the force you put upon them.
The matron continues to stare at you as the chain continues to strain. It's getting creepy with how intensely she is staring at you. As she reaches for your head the chain snaps and you lunge forward.
As the matron begins to fondle your scalp, a shock goes through your head and down your spine. All thoughts leave your head as your brain restarts and your vision goes blurry. Acting on autopilot, your hands shoot straight towards the only thing in your sight. Which happens to be the two luscious orbs hanging in your face.
Through the haze of your mind you hear a husky laugh and the words “You're an eager boy aren't you and with such skilled hands, just like your father. It's no surprise that you managed to seduce my girls.” The matron says with a husk in her voice.
You freeze at the matron’s words. She knows your father, SHE KNOWS YOUR FATHER. And if she knows dad she probably knows your mother.
“You know my father?” You tentatively ask, your hands remaining in their position.
The matron looks you in the eyes and says “You look just like him. He always had a gaggle of girls hanging off him. All vying for his affection.” The matron takes a deep breath before leaning in close and whispering into your ear. “I may have lost the father, but I’m not losing the son. Prepare yourself boy, you’re all mine.”
You bite back your nerves as they scream at you to run like hell, away from this oversexed and frankly desperate witch and whatever perverted plans she has in store for you. And instead, ignoring all your instincts, you whisper into her ear “If you think you're up to the task, I’ll show you to my room. Just call off your men, we don’t want to be interrupted.” in the most cocksure voice you can muster. Desperately trying to hide your fear, because witches feed on fear and this one is starving.
You watch the matron straighten up and shudder before pulling you up and tossing you to your feet “Brave words boy, lead the way. AND FOR THE REST OF YOU.” The matron shouts, addressing the room. “I’m taking this one aside for special interrogation. Anyone who interrupts will be court martialed."
You see Patty blanche and sign the cross as you lead the matron off to your room. Alexis has collapsed on the floor with a bloody nose and Ruth is trying to shrug the hands off her eyes. As you cross the threshold out of the main room you hear a thump and Goose’s manic laughter.
The walk to your room was quiet, save for the matron squirming like an anxious school girl. You eyes scanning the hall for any sign of your boys, hoping that they didn’t just run off without you and Goose.
As you enter your room the matron doesn’t say a word, she just pounces on you, her equine familiar bursting out. You don’t leave your room until late afternoon.