October 28th, 1795 aex

Mak Garde

South of Picklewood, Watateje, New Alben

Mak sat on his favourite redwood chair. Lady Marlay leaned against the chair beside him, primed and loaded. If another intruder came, he’d rather use the gun. The feeling of blade piercing through flesh was fresh in his mind. He’d rather not feel it again.

Skylde sat with Net on the boy’s bed. They hummed the song Skylde had made to accompany Jerri’s poem. It was a heartbreaking performance. The song had none of the life it had the night Mak returned from Picklewood, and Skylde did not play her fiddle even though Mak had requested it when they’d come back inside from hoisting the dead man onto the wagon.

Sherik stood by the window and watched the road. The hunting knife hung at his belt. You think you’d be ready to stick that in someone, boy? Mak’s eyes fell to the floor. I hope you never have to. The whiskey was increasingly difficult to ignore. This will get worse before the end.

“Ma’s here.” Sherik’s loud voice nearly made Mak jump from his chair.

The two youngest hopped out of bed with wide smiles.

“Is…” he wanted to ask about Jerri.

“She’s alone,” Sherik said.

The words shot more pain through Mak than everything the vandals had done. His little lady was missing. A lump formed in his throat as he forced himself to his feet. His balance wavered, and his body seemed boneless as he moved to the door.

The children followed outside. The family held a wordless greeting. Konni hugged her children but not Mak. The rings around her eyes were darker than when she’d left. Her hair was dishevelled and greasy, and her dark grey dress was covered in dust. She pulled a crate in a small wagon behind her.

“Where’d you sleep?” Mak eyed her up and down. “Did you sleep?”

“Nearly slept on a crate behind the saloon.” Konni’s voice was hoarse. “The sun set. I didn’t want to walk home in the dark. I lost track of time. Larryk found me out back, brought me in, and let me sleep inside.”

“It’s alright.” Mak put a hand on her shoulder, she flinched and avoided it.

“There’s no sign of her in town.” Konni glared at him. “Dead or alive.”

“How’s that possible?” Sherik asked.

“I know Westen Freight has her,” Konni said. “There’s no sign of them in town either. It’s like they never came.”

“You check the bakery?” Mak asked.

She nodded. “I spoke to some of the Deputy Wives, Old Man Vant, Larryk, and a few others. None admitted to seeing her, but I could see it in their eyes, Mak. They know something.” Her voice rose slowly as she spoke.

“Did they say anything at all that might help us?” Mak stood still. She’d made it clear that his attempts to comfort her weren’t welcome.

She shook her head, quick like a bird. “Each one just told me to take the deal.”

They were silent for a moment. Skylde and Net hugged their mother’s legs.

“What’s happening, Mak?” Konni was nearly in tears.

Mak didn’t answer. Anything he said would only result in another argument about leaving or staying. “What’s in the box?”

“Jak was more helpful than anyone else,” Konni tugged on the wagon rope. “Iron wheels for the plough. I told Jak we were short on money. He suggested using the box itself to fix the roof until we could afford something better.”

Mak nodded. “He say anything about Jerri?” Mak knew the answer before it came.

Konni shook her head. “I stopped at Daun’s on the way home. I wanted to see it for myself.” Her face paled. “They really are gone. No Daun, no Valli, no kids, no Westen Freight, nothing. It didn’t look like a farm. The train tracks seemed old somehow, as if they’d always been there.”

“His oldest children must’ve come back for them,” Mak said, doubtful. He remembered the overturned carriage. Something terrible had happened at Daun’s. Something that would soon come for them.

Konni’s eyes locked onto the corpse of the sneaking man from the previous night. He lay propped up against the wagon wall. His head tilted to the side and his open eyes stared at the tool shed. His clothes were ripped, dirty, grass-stained, and bloodied. She barely reacted to the gruesome sight. “Is everyone alright?”

“We’re fine,” Sherik said. “Pa took care of him.”

Mak winced. The thought of knife through flesh sent a chill through his bones.

“What do we do with him?” Konni said.

“We should probably burn him, before he starts to stink,” Mak said.

“He already does.” Skylde pinched her nose and watched the dead man suspiciously.

“Let’s hang him for all to see,” Sherik said.

All eyes regarded him, wide with shock.

“Boy, are you crazy?”

Sherik stood firm. “Do you think any Westen Freight bastard will even think of stepping on our land if they see that guy hanging?”

“It’ll piss them off,” Konni said.

“And what if our neighbours pass by?” Mak said. “We aren’t the only farmers on this road, you know. What would they think of us if they saw such a thing?”

“It sure feels like we’re the only ones lately,” Sherik said. “Besides, those farmers would understand why we did it. They’d do the same.”

Konni shook her head.

“Forget it, boy,” Mak said. “We aren’t doing something so barbaric.” Killing the man was bad enough.

“I don’t want to waste wood on him,” Konni said. “I see what Sherik is trying to say, and he does make a good point. Just bring him to the Westen Freight camp on our land. Lay him over their crates. They’ll see it. I don’t care if it angers them. At least they’ll know what we’re willing to do to defend ourselves.”

Mak and Sherik exchanged a nod.

Konni fell to her knees and wept uncontrollably. “Where’s my little girl?” She wailed. Skylde and Net’s eyes watered.

Mak knelt before her. She let her head collapse onto his chest and wept louder. He clutched her close and held his own tears back. He had to stay strong. If his children saw him cry, they’d know the situation was worse than they thought.