บท 61: An Unlikely Ally
The room filled with silence while the mans bones creaked and cracked, slowly dropping into the cushions. He groaned. "Stiff as a horse's back…" He laughed and gave a kind smile. "Just as I like it … As you can tell, my riding days are long behind me." He tapped the staff against the hunch on his back.
Leslie wanted pry but decided instead to ask, "what is wrong with Rynan? The Stir Doctor told me he'd been shot by a decayer."
"A decayer?" The man's right eyelid twitched. "And yet you hadn't questioned it?"
"I saw it for myself … the flesh was black and rotted … and smelled terrible." Leslie pointed to her window. "There were crows following us, ready to feast on his flesh."
"Unless the crows were there for another reason?" The man hinted, though not giving an answer.
Leslie rubbed her chin, "to watch him?"
"Precisely!" The man chuckled, triumphantly. "I knew you were a smart one"
"But who?" Leslie found herself asking. "Who would want to watch over my brother?"
The man raised two wrinkled fingers, "Either to use him or to help him … though whomever shot him didn't intend to kill him."
Leslie recalled the train and the flash of guns; and the Yurks who scaled the carts nearly ending their lives. It was a planned ambush … not an act of theater.
"That Yurk out there was part of their gang—"
"He was no Yurk," the man spoke softly, "I can assure you that. He was there to insure your safety."
"Insure our safety?" Leslie's eyebrows furrowed. "My brother is being hunted and somebody I saw as a father has been captured."
"Yet nobody has been killed, correct?"
Leslie sniffled. "There was on casualty…"
"But no one from the train," the old man insisted, "therefore E'krek has saved your life … you owe him your thanks one day."
"Thanks?" Leslie's nose wrinkled and she redirected the conversation. "If it was not a decayer why is my brothers flesh decaying? I killed rats that were feasting on his flesh."
The man nodded, "curious … I understand! What your brother was shot with was a Stalker … used by the Moolu people of the south … they find it amusing to torment their victims."
"Torment their victims?" Leslie shook her head. "But who would want to torment—" Leslie's eyes widened. She recalled when Kenneth removed the metal locket from Rynan's pocket. "Baxter!"
The old man glowed, "You are a quick one … it not a wonder why they named you Sheriff … yet a wonder why the Mayor took it away."
Leslie looked to the man. "You think the Mayor is behind what happened to Rynan?"
"You said his skin was decaying and rats were gnawing at him, did you not?" Leslie silence told him so. "Seems the skin was decaying … and something else was the cause."
Leslie shook her head, "there was nothing … nothing else … Rynan was shot, brought to the Stir Doctor, and then treated —" She gasped and covered her mouth with a palm. "The ointment! I'd given Barrot the ointment to apply to Rynan's back."
The man shrank with worry. "And the Stir Doctor was the one who provided the ointment, I presume."
"He was…"
"This may come as a shock, but the Mayor meant to kill your brother in silence … what he didn't plan for was Rynan to kill one of your deputies … a mess he could only clean by removing your badge."
"But why?" Leslie felt the tears once more. "Why would he want to hurt Rynan?"
The man looked at her with kindness, "because he knows how much your brother means to you … And the Mayor can't have you distracted."
"They why take my badge?"
"To give you time to settle your nerves." The old man insisted. "He knew that you wouldn't apprehend your brother … it'd only make it worse for him … what he wants to do is bring him in, try to help the boy, and regain your trust."
What he spoke rang too clear in her ears. "And how do you know all of this …" She reached for her revolver. "Have you been watching us?"
"I, my dear, have been watching the Mayor." His eyes suddenly blackened. "He has taken my home, just as he taken away your … if you don't believe me ask your the one they call The Ace."
Leslie worked to make sense of everything. Her head spinning. "And why have you come?"
The old man looked at her and smiled. He placed a hand into his robe and withdrew a glowing, black veil. Then held it out allowing the black light to illuminate off her face.
"Because I need you to kill him…"
"It seem like too long…" Leslie said, tying her horse to the post outside a large white home, pinned between a column of other homes just south of where she lived. "But not long enough…"
Leslie stood patting her horses head, pondering as to why she hadn't asked the old mans name, and how he knew so much, and why she agreed to do his bidding.
"Kill the Mayor? Are you crazy?" Those were the words she wanted to ask the old man … even thought of turning him in to please the Mayor … but she did neither, and instead took the veil and said, "it'll be done."
But now that she found herself outside Jack's house, holding the veil in her hand, doubt crept through her persuading her to give up. I can't give into my fears…
She patted the horse then walked towards the door, beneath limbs from trees that arched overhead, while her nose tickled from the smell of mint. Leslie stopped and took a slow, steady breath. Her courage somewhere deep inside her chest climbing to get out.
Jack said he loved me … we'll just have to find out how much.
The first knock startled her, louder than she meant, while the second and third we much lighter. She took a step back, facing the horse, the urge to leap on its back and ride away came and went.
A light flicked on in the window and the door swung open.
Behind it was a man, a foot taller, with small, dark eyes and a broad chin. His shirt seem to have been left behind; her eyes fighting to keep from looking at a rounded, muscular chest and mountainous abs.
"Leslie!" Jack said, swinging his enormous limbs around her and pulled her in close. Her ear met his chest and he squeezed … his heart beat steady as a drum. "Forgive me…"
The tears once again filled her eyes, and she held them back, pushing off his chest. She lifted her chin while his eyes trembled looking upon her.
"No need for apologies," Leslie insisted. She shoved past him and entered his home. "Why don't you get dressed."
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