Aftermath of the Reckoning

Chapter 7

Patch concentrated and attempted to visualize the wound. Interrupted by fits of coughing and waves of nausea, he slowly developed a mental image of the damaged area. The occipital lobe of Ice’s brain sustained moderate bruising and appeared to be at high risk of hemorrhaging.

I’ve never pushed myself this hard before.

Howitzer kicked Patch in the side. “Get to it now, ain’t got all day.”

Patch penetrated deep into a reserve of willpower he wasn’t sure existed. He focused and drank from the injury, allowing it to permeate his being. All at once, a thousand lightening bolts of pain spidered from the base of his skull to his eyes, which began weeping tears of blood. His vision darkened and the last thing he felt before passing out was the stone pushing out of the back of Ice’s skull.

***

Ice felt Patch’s hand on his head and tried to remove it, but the headache hurt too badly and what he felt next...was amazing. The pain receded and the stone fell from the back of his skull to the ground. His vision cleared and he felt...incredible, better than he had in a long while.

Getting to his feet, he glared at Patch. “I’m good now sir, what ye want me do wit him?”

Howitzer said, “Stay here and keep an eye on him. If he manages to awaken and attempts to escape, kill him. I’m going to get Amaretto.”

“Aye Sir,” Ice grinned.

Suddenly, an arrow flew into the cave, barely missing Howitzer and embedding into a nearby root.

The men jumped and Ice peered outside the cave. “It must be that girl Sir.”

“No shit, get back in here you dumbass, she can see you sticking your head out.”

Ice returned to the cave while Howitzer retrieved the arrow. A note wrapped around the shaft. Upon unraveling it, a vial dropped into his hand.

I’ve poisoned Amaretto. You have 10 minutes to deliver this antidote. You’ll find her to the south.

- Zoey

Howitzer glowered, “Guard Patch. I’ll be right back.”

Exiting the cave, Howitzer began running to the south, passing the tree behind which Zoey hid.

***

Zoey saw the bald man run out, heading to the south. She’d bound Amaretto and devised the poison bluff (‘borrowing’ some materials from her prisoner), but it wouldn’t take long for the clan leader — she assumed — to return.

Ignoring all her instincts which begged a stealthy approach, she dropped the bow and ran forward to the cave entrance. Earlier, she sensed something was wrong when the tall red-haired man stuck his head from the cave.

Shouldn’t he have been knocked out or at least in pain from the rock? Surely Patch didn’t do something…

Reaching the entrance, she heard the man say “Come any further lil’ girl and your boyfriend here gets a tattoo across his throat.”

Through the brush, Zoey could make out the glint of a machete lingering over Patch’s throat. From what she could see, Patch was bleeding profusely from the head. Or was it the eyes? She couldn’t tell.

Concern overwhelmed her and something in her mind snapped. It felt like a gate opening, deep inside, and righteous anger suffused her being. The desire to protect this man who saved her life pierced her soul and she uttered words that seemed not her own, “Drop it.”