Us and Them

Doomed

"What have you done!" A woman shrieked, grief stricken as people rushed to put out the fire Dallon had set ablaze.
Andy pulled a shred of an Army vest from beneath the logs, the insignia charred and smoldering. Dallon stood there covered in someone else's blood, not sure whether to laugh or cry. He could have sworn that the other person had been Brendon. In fact, he was sure it was.

   Amongst the grieving, Andy had drug Dallon back into the meeting tent, cursing him out the entire way as Dallon just blankly went with him. The other threw him to the ground, looking about ready to murder him right then and there. Josh entered behind them, pulling the strings on the tent flaps to close off the conversation from the rest of the world.

   "What the actual fuck was that?!" Andy yelled, Dallon looking up at him. "Explain this. Now!"

   Dallon took in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I couldn't sleep last night. Hell, I really haven't gotten any sleep since we crossed here. Really bad nightmares. I went out for some fresh air and I thought I saw..." he paused, "I thought I saw Brendon. Had a knife pressed up against me and everything, so, I did what any rational person would do if there was a threat to the people around me." His voice shook as he realized just how insane it sounded to say his experience out loud.

   Andy pinched the bridge of his nose, at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but Josh interrupted.

   "Before you met us, what exactly happened for you to end up staying in Vegas?" He asked calmly, as if they were discussing something mundane. "Because you did end up under psychokinetic influence. Normally that takes someone dying to do."

   "Look, okay, I made some shady ass deal back in Vegas several years ago. I put myself as one of Brendon's right hand men for a period to insure my family made it East without issue. If Brendon gave someone his blessing, not a soul would mess with them as they traveled that way." He explained. "It was either that or watch my kids grow up in fear. I refused to let them live in this shit."

   "Blood contract. You broke it somewhere in that time. You essentially committed the Glorious Gone without physically dying. And that's a problem. Psychokinesis doesn't exactly mesh well with the living. I've only seen it once, and it drive that person to insanity. Psychokinetic psychosis, if you will." He turned to Andy. "And beating up on him won't change the fact that this isn't entirely his fault. He needs to stay in the medical tent with Jake and Jinxx. They'll be able to keep an eye on him until we sort this out."

   "Awesome! Great idea! Let's put the psychopathic murderer in with the weak and sick! Surely, nothing bad will happen."

   "Don't patronize me. You wanted my solution to this, there it is. I don't see any reason why you would fight me on this. Jinxx and Jake are capable of handling him. Unless, of course, you don't think they can handle it."

   Andy gave him a thin smile, stepping to Josh's side and putting an arm around his shoulders. The two stepped over to the far corner of the tent, out of Dallon's earshot.

   "Listen here, fucker, I'm not here to play these games. I've killed some of my own for far less." Andy said in a low voice. "So, my suggestion would be to put a goddamn tight leash on that shitbag or we'll do things my way. You decided to spare him, he's your problem, got it?"

   Josh narrowed his eyes. "Fine. We'll be in my tent if you need me."

   He pulled away from Andy, walking toward the flap of the tent. "C'mon, Dallon. You're with me. The Prophet, here, has some funeral planning to do."

                                       •••

   The moon was half lit that night, streaming through the branches as torches lit up the rocky shores of the river. Everyone was solemn as they laid yellow flowers on the pyre of the dead. Andy was saying some words of encouragement, coming up with a rather simple explanation to placate the grieving crowd. If they knew the real reason that their friend was dead, they would surely tear the camp apart looking for the criminal.
   Josh and Dallon looked on at the service from a distance, Josh carving at a stick with his knife while Dallon sat beside him in guilty silence.

   "Should I even be here right now? I mean, in this camp at all?" Dallon asked quietly.

   "You're family, Dal, despite what others may think of the situation. You helped me out of the Tower and saved everyone's asses countless times. We need you here, despite whatever you've done. This really wasn't all your fault.

   "I at least feel like everyone is owed the real explanation. It would give me a chance to apologize."

   Josh stopped and looked at him. "Unfortunately, everyone is too wound up to know the truth. Andy was ready to kill you right there. You're lucky I was even able to talk him down from that." He sighed, "But, I suppose war makes two different kinds of leaders."

   The pyre was set alight, somber voices singing as smoke rose between the trees and into the moonlight. All Dallon could do was look at his feet. If he had known that the past would come back to haunt his future, he would've just found a way for him and his family to survive in the wastelands of the West. All he could think about was how that log felt against the head of the other man, the way the blood spattered on his face with each hit until he ran out of strength. Maybe he should've just went through with becoming a bounty hunter instead. Then, at least, he would've carried out his contract and died at the hands of the rebellion with dignity.