The Band of Rotten: A Sanders Sides Story

Caution

United States, 1860

It had been days after their odd evening in the unnamed town, warned of murders. The following morning, they rode quickly away from the town and never looked back. The last few days had been similar to the days before; uneventful under the scorching heat. Fortunately, midday had passed behind them as the evening approached. As the sun sinks lower, they entered a foreign land. The dry soil of the desert no longer crunch under their feet. Instead, they would see the occasional shrub and bush. And soon, they encounter rows of trees and greeneries. The desert was no longer their travelling companion.

Patton sat on the saddle with his ever-present smile—at least it appeared ever-present to Roman. Perhaps he just has a generally kind appearance. The air felt different—cool and a tad heavier. It was still bright when they entered another town, this one much bigger than the last and surely more crowded. A wooden gateway guarded the town with a big sign, Buxcastle. The town was bustling with sounds and movements.

"Excuse me!" A man shouted as he walked past them quickly with a thick rug rolled on his shoulder.

"Comin' through!" A young woman followed with two big boxes of what looked to be loaves of bread. "Flynn, slow down, would you?"

"Be quick, Mr. Crowley isn't as patient as he was five years ago!"

Without hesitance, Patton followed the two from his ride, leaving Roman to trail along. He would need to acquire some small information.

"Hey fellas," Patton greeted. The two strangers jumped in surprise. The girl looked at the rider with wide, bewildered eyes, while the boy pressed his lips thin. "Might need ta ask a question from y'all."

"Um..." The girl hummed, glancing at her companion who rolled his eyes. "Be quick, we're in a hurry."

"Well, how far are we from the coast?"

"Five days. A week at most with your horse," the boy answered quickly. "Sorry, we have to go now. Come along, Lev, we don't got much time."

"Thank you!" Patton shouted as the two strangers continued their way. Quite rude of them not to smile or even say hello, but it was no problem at all for dear ol' Patton. He rode back, catching Roman's fatigued look. "Ya wanna ride the mare now, pal?"

"I will be fine, Patton," Roman said with bravado, puffing out his chest dramatically. "A march such as this is not a hassle for me. The military was a lot harsher with me."

Patton only smiled, hiding his own exhaustion behind a cheery exterior. They walked through the town, neither feeling any sense of rush or the need to get to their destination in a hurry. It was busy in the town, especially when they reached the market place. There were crates of produce everywhere they looked—rarely any kind of meat. It was a refreshing sight after weeks of sweltering desert. They were finally walking on damp soil, fertile enough to grow food—or any kind of plants for that matter.

The wind was cool over their warm, sweaty skin. There was a fountain, grey stone with some part covered in green moss and algae. Still, it was a beautiful sight to see so much water in one place after having to befriend the desert. Orchard dipped her head into the fountain, taking a drink of the cold water. The children who ran pass them giggled and laughed at the mare. Patton gave them a smile while Roman charmed them with his chiseled jaw and quick winks. It took them another hour to reach the other side of town, dodging past people who were walking and running here and there.

"What would you say about that little warning we were given, Patton?" Roman asked as a random thought crossed his mind. "The murders, I meant."