Dead Souls

Chapter Six

Meredith moves into action. She quickly resumes position alongside the convenience store on the far outer edge. She crouches into a lunging position with her hatchet in one hand, and her colt 45 in the other. Using the colt 45 is a last resort as the sound typically attracts the DeSos. Very rarely over the past three years has it been fired.

Swindlers are the post apocalyptic form of a thief. They typically run in groups of 2-3 that corner other runners and take what they can get. Meredith wasn't opposed to causing harm to them as they take from the needy, but it was also, a last resort.

Meredith marks the sound of their quieted steps, trying to estimate how many are in this group. Two at a minimum, since one was talking aloud, she thinks. Reasoning with swindlers could be done to avoid bloodshed. She plans to wait them out to gauge their level of desperation.

"I'm telling you, I saw a runner near this store," the sound of a male rounds the corner. "I say we try to bargain with her first." Meredith dreads what the second part of the plan is if she doesn't cooperate. "Jeremy, can you shut your pie hole for a minute?" Another male voice spats out. Okay, two swindlers, Meredith thinks. At least one of them has the decency to be quiet. The more noise distributed, the more DeSos will be drawn out.

Meredith decides to bite the bullet and rounds the corner from her crouched position. Standing in front of the glass convenience store doors are two men. They could possibly still be kids, but considering what they have gone through in the last three years, she thinks they are far from innocent. One is lanky, most likely the loud mouth, with shoulder length brown hair. He has slight facial hair, with bushy brows above big eyes. He's wearing a hat with 'MAGA' across it. The other man, the smarter of the two, is short and stocky. His hair is short and dirty blonde. He's clean shaven with sharp eyes. As Meredith moves into view, the stocky male tenses while the lanky one gawks. These men probably haven't ran into a woman in a while from the look across lanky's face.

Meredith has her colt 45 down at her side along with her hatchet. Angling it, she keeps it on standby if these men try anything before negotiations. She lifts her chin eye, narrows her eyes on the stocky one and gives a subtle nod.

"Hey, hey. We mean no trouble," the lanky one tries, raising his hands in surrender.

"Oh, is that why you threatened to block me in?" She says back. She keeps steady, despite the pounding in her chest. Although Meredith has done her fair share of killing, it's always different when it comes to killing humans with souls.

"Give us what we need and no trouble will come to you and any others with you," the stocky one adds steadily. Based on his phrasing, Meredith knows he's looking for an answer to his unspoken question- Is she with others or is she alone? Meredith keeps her expression unchanged as she responds, "What is it you're in need of?"

"We need antibiotics. Our sister is down with a nasty infection," says the lanky one.

"Well, you're possibly in luck. I noticed there is a pharmacy in this shithole of a town across the way," Meredith supplies.

"We've already been through it and came out empty handed," says the stocky one.

"I don't keep antibiotics on me," she says barely above a whisper. "I'd much rather an infection take me than those ugly bastards. Your sister is better off."

The lanky one looks to the stocky one with uncertainty. They don't believe her, as they shouldn't. Meredith keeps a small supply in her pack because out here, infections are inevitable. Especially with the DeSos that break skin with their claws. Thankfully a scratch doesn't rid a human of their soul. The bite of a DeSo does a person in.

"We know you have some. Give us some and we won't hurt you," the lanky one says shakily. The stocky one doesn't remove his eyes from Meredith's. She calculates the prey in front of her. The stocky one is certainly the more confident of the two and most likely has a weapon ready to draw the second she moves something other than her lips. The lanky one on the other hand, would be slow to grab any weapon he might have hidden.

Meredith is still calculating, weighing the pros and cons of attacking first when a whizz through the air sounds. One second, the lanky one is upright and the next, he's clutching his thigh as an arrow sticks out the backside of his leg. The stocky one covers the lanky ones mouth to keep him from screaming out, and scowls over my shoulder. "What the fuck man?" The stocky one spits out above a whisper, losing composure.

"I believe the lady said she doesn't have what you're looking for, so I suggest you find a different damsel in distress to swindle," says the cool, calculated voice of Jax.

The men scatter off in the opposite direction, the stocky one helping support the lanky one. Meredith turns to Jax as he says, "What did I say about being more aware?" He's darker than the last time she saw him, still sporting that same bandana across his nose and mouth. His stature remains the same as he wears a navy shirt with jeans and combat boots. The bow is slack in his arms as he watches the men scurry off. He slings the bow across his back and puts the unused arrow in the quiver on his back.

"I'm gathering you act before think," she quips back.

"I'm gathering you're more naive than you let on," he mumbles back. Meredith raises her eyebrows before saying, "I had them handled."

"Sure. Well I suggest we keep moving if we plan to continue this conversation before some DeSos come out to investigate the ruckus.

Before Meredith has time to say anything clever, Jax has turned his back to her and is stalking off. She lets out a huff of air, from the heat or Jax, she doesn't take the time to acknowledge. Their run ins are starting to have a trend. She's not sure what to make of this.

Instead of staying to become the next DeSos meal, she begins walking after Jax.