Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Land’s End

"Cliff..." Tears rolled down Eden’s cheeks. "I..."

"Stop." He turned from her and rubbed his own eyes. "I didn't tell you that story to have a pity party or anything. I just felt like you should know."

"You protected me, Cliff," she said softly. "And I’ll always be thankful to you for that."

"I’m just thankful you’re here," Cliff said, averting his eyes. "Come on, the town’s just up ahead."

After several minutes of awkward silence, Cliff and Eden reached the entrance to Land’s End. Past its large wooden gate stretched the town’s main strip, a line of dusty old stores encircled by zig-zagged houses. Outside the modest town center, the number of homes dwindled, dotting the land out to the barren hills.

Cliff guided Eden to the center of the strip, where the sheriff’s office sat - a small wooden hut connected to an old stony dugout shelter. Its rickety wooden door opened to the main lobby, a black-walled room with stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls. Cliff looked around for any signs of life, but no one stood behind the main desk. The two moved into the back hallway, where they spotted three people gathered around the door to the small infirmary.

"Cliff!!" A smiling middle-aged woman with curly blond hair noticed Cliff immediately and walked forward. "’Bout time, stranger!"

Cliff nodded meekly. "Nice to see you again, Sheriff."

"Aw, cut the bashful crap, you scoundrel," Robin said, then moved in and gave Cliff a bear hug. "I know you missed me. Didn't know you were into younger women, though," she chuckled. "What is she? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Seventeen," Eden whispered softly.

"Seventeen? Coulda fooled me, hun. Then again, what would I know about seventeen? I was pregnant and stuck at home while Billy was out tryin’ to find new ways to break his legs." The older woman outstretched a hand. "I’m the sheriff of this shithole, Robin Cole. Nice to meetcha, princess."

"I’m Eden...nice to meet you too," she replied meekly.

Robin had a powerful grip, which left Eden rubbing her hand after the handshake concluded.

"We're here on business from the Guild," Cliff said, "so I’ll cut right to the chase. Do you know where the Knights from the 4th division are right now?"

"Maybe if ya shuddap for a minute, we could 'splain it to ya," grumbled one of the other people in the hall - a short old man, standing next to a tall woman with a brown rat-tail.

"Yeah," muttered the woman, not bothering to look in Cliff’s direction. "Give pa a chance to speak, why doncha?"

"Y’all are mighty keen to forget it, but that there mine’s my private property." The old man's tongue wagged like a dog's as he began. "I’m only lendin’ it out to y’all, as a kindness. That’s the one thing we gotta get straight 'fore anything else, ya hear me?"

"Yes," Cliff replied politely. "Of course."

The old man gave Cliff no recognition. "Anyway, yesterday my boy Kurt come up to me and he says 'hey, pa' - that's what evry'one calls me, y’know, they call me pa. He says, 'hey pa, them Guild boys, goddammit, they actually found something. Some peculiar little object there, buried deep in th' stratum, like.' So I says, 'well then, ya better tell 'em to haul it up so we can bring it back to town.’ So he did, and they dug it up. 'cept they wouldn’t bring it back to town. Sayin’ it’s too dangerous without a proper vehicle. Hah! Damn fools don’t know how to ride a goddamn horse, that’s their problem! So this morning, I ask Sheriff Cole here to lend Kurt the buggy. Knowin’ them city folk, they’re liable to trust a machine more than a horse, nine times outta ten. But what do ya know...lunchtime comes around, and the son of a whore still ain't back yet! So this afternoon, Ashton and me, we go out searchin' for Kurt, and instead, we find this here child lyin' face-down in the dirt, bloody as a baby pig. So, I think, 'well, maybe this here boy knows where my Kurt is,' and we brang him on back here. An' that's all I know."

Cliff looked exasperated. "So no one’s been to the mine. You just left the Knights out there?"

"This kid was on his deathbed, so we chose to prioritize him first." Robin nodded to the door. "He’s lucky we found him at all. Hasn’t said a word yet, either. I looked him over, and he's been cut somethin' nasty around his wrists. And judgin’ from the way the wounds were made, it doesn't look like he got 'em from hopping over barb wire in a twister...if you catch my drift."

"Hell no!" the old man shouted. "If there was a twister, we'd a’ heard about it days before it hit town!"

Robin rolled her eyes and moved to the door. "Anyway, he ain’t dead. He lost a lot of blood, but we managed to get him all fixed up. Personally, I’m curious to see what he has to say."

With that, she opened the door, revealing a small cot clad in white sheets. Propped up on some pillows was the body of Vance Darcouver.

"Whatever happened to him sure took a lot out of him," Robin went on. "Then again, it don't seem like he had much to begin with. Look how scrawny he is - no muscle at all! Skin's pale too, so maybe he’s one o' them cliff-dwellers."

Eden gazed over to a dilapidated wooden table in the corner. Bloodstained, ragged jeans and a black coat had been piled on top of it.

"Hey, Cliff," she asked, nudging him. "Do they sell clothes like that in your world?"

Without waiting for a response, she moved over to the jacket and picked it up, looking for the tag. In that moment, Vance stirred, opening his uncanny eyes. He scrunched up his brow in confusion, then parted his lips.

"Who the hell are you?"

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