Chapter Ten

A rescue mission has limited success.

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Some of this podcast has been recorded on equipment from the Billings Public Library Co+Lab. Thanks to Renee Barratt of The Cover Counts for the cover design. Music by Mikhail Smusev from Pixabay.

Transcript

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Welcome back to the serialized podcast production of The Scarring Underneath. Written and performed by T. S. Dickerson. Chapter 10. Cass would always remember that she was still on foot in the ditch when she heard the pounding hoofbeats. She would always remember the twang in her twisted ankle as she scrambled up onto the road. She would remember Billy asking something she didn't hear over the panicked questioning of others, and almost getting kicked for shoving behind a horse's rump to get a better view. The riderless buckskin came to an uneasy standstill alongside the group. Its nostrils flared and it trembled all the way down to its hooves, which slid a bit on the pavement with the force of its shaking. She should have been the one to go to it with a calm voice and take hold of it. Instead, she spent what seemed an eternity staring as her brain roiled and tried to piece together sense. Finally she managed to breathe. Is that Conrad's horse? she asked. No one answered. Cass took off toward the back of the group, but stopped. She already knew the wagon wouldn't be there. Where had she lost them? She'd been sure they'd caught up. She yanked at clumps of her hair. Cam, she shouted, spinning in a circle, trying to decide which horse to commandeer. The next thing she knew Hank had dismounted and led his horse to her. Someone handed her a rifle, but the cool feel of the metal did not have the usual numbing effect. Her unused energy transmitted to the horse through her seat and her hands. The animal spun and shied beneath her. She wanted to scream. Finally, search party gathered, Cam gave the word, and she turned the horse and dug in her heels. The animal kicked out as he broke into a run. Cass felt a tug on her memory, as if she had forgotten something, and she turned her head back, searching for Billy's face. She couldn't see him in the crowd of people milling anxiously, listening to Derek's shouted directions. She faced forward. He was safe. She had to focus on keeping the others safe now. Lena's consciousness pulsed back to her in rhythmic flashes of fuzzy gray. Her ears rang with a memory of the sound of the class bell at school, which jolted her back to reality more than anything. She blinked and tried to move, watching as shapes grew up around her and gradually clarified. She was lying on the ground, nearly underneath the wagon. Everything ached, and she thought she must have fallen from her horse. Her arms groped sluggishly for something to help her stand, and her hand landed in a puddle of warm liquid. She groaned as she turned her head to look. Her hand was covered in blood. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. The fluid was dripping down out of the wagon. She heard a gunshot, and the wagon jolted as the horses pulled against the brake. She needed to move, but her body felt weighted. She was squirming away from the wagon in the blood, trying to get her muscles to help her roll when rough hands seized her and yanked her upward. The movement seemed to rip through her skull and everything faded to dark red and black. Billy followed behind the crowds of people, wagons and horses, filing away from the road and tucking against a nearby ridge. The distance between him and the rest increased, yet he couldn't stop pausing and turning to stare back the way they'd come, as if he could see what was happening. As he watched, he caught a flash of movement. He could hear hoofbeats. It was cowboy. Lena had been riding him. Without knowing what he was doing, he raised both arms at his sides and called out to the animal. Whoa, he said, trying to mimic Cass's calming tone. The horse changed course as if to run right by, and then began to slow, front legs jarring into the earth. He came to a stop snorting, his saddle crooked to the side on his back, and his reins, which had been tied together, laying diagonally between his ears. Cowboy shook his head. Billy began to smile at his success at stopping the horse when he heard a snort from behind him. He turned to see Derrick looming there, astride his horse. That was why Cowboy had stopped. Derek looked down at him, eyes wide but unreadable. Billy turned back to the horse and everything inside him pulled the same direction. He grabbed hold of the reins and ran them back down Cowboy's neck. Ignoring the shining of the horse, he rided the saddle and tightened the cinch. It took him two tries to mount the skittering animal, but once he had, he tucked his feet firmly into the stirrups, and shot a look back at Derrick, expecting the man to try to stop him. Derrick said nothing, and his face was a nearly blank canvas, bearing only the typical hardness of distaste it always held for Billy. Billy jerked Cowboy's head around and kicked, hunkered down as the horse blasted back the direction he'd come. No one in the rescue party had bothered to attempt to catch Cowboy as he flew past. Cass had cast a glance at him as he went by. The horse seemed unharmed, but knowing that both Lena and Conrad were on foot, was a fresh terror in her gut. She urged her unfamiliar mount forward to take the lead. When she spotted a patch of blood darkened pavement, she held up a hand and shouted for the group to stop. She dismounted and followed another trail of blood into the deep grass of the ditch where flies, already drawn to Conrad's body, buzzed. His face was barely recognizable, flesh torn and skull separated. His clothing was bloodied and grass stained where someone had dragged him off the road. She wouldn't have known it was Conrad, if not for the empty, but recognizable knife sheath at his belt. His boots were also missing, and something about his dirty socks being exposed torqued Cass's insides. Seeing him without his boots and knife was harder to bear than the gore of blood and brain matter scattered around him. She stood and met Cam's eyes, shaking her head. We've got to get to the others. The voice was Drew's, and Cass blinked at him for a second before she returned to her horse. She hadn't noticed who had joined them on this likely doomed mission. As she mounted, she realized two of the Oregonians were there as well as Weylon, who had already kicked his horse onward. As Cass's horse picked up speed, and the wind lifted her loose hair, she felt herself praying to a god she wasn't sure existed. Her insides spun as she thought over and over with each hoofbeat, please let his daughters be okay. Please. Cass spotted the downed tree across the road and the horseless wagon standing behind it. Cam and Drew were the first to round the tree, so close Cash thought for a moment their horses would collide while descending the steep ditch. She followed them, already casting her eyes side to side as her horse clattered up onto the pavement on the opposite side of the tree. A seed of hope sprouted inside her. There were no bodies on the ground. Then she saw a boot lying along the edge of the road where the grass began. There were horse shoes drawn on it, and purple marker. It was Lena's. Shit, came Cam's voice. He was directing his horse closer to the wagon. The animal was reluctant, and when its hooves splashed into a red puddle, Cass knew why. She drove her mount in next to Cam's and raised herself in the stirrups to see. Two bodies lay sprawled one over the other in the wagon. Oh God, said Weyland. He dismounted and clambered into the wagon, and Cass was about to call out for him to stop when he stopped on his own and jumped back down. It's David and Rain, he said. Cam was nodding. They're gone. We need to go, Cass said. Katie and the girls aren't here, they can't have gotten far with them. If they'd meant to kill them, they'd have done it here, Cam said. How many do you think there are? When no one answered, Cass realized he was looking at her. She shook her head. Five or more? They must have taken Conrad out at the same time they were here taking the wagon. Lena wouldn't have gone without a fight. We need to go, Wayland said, his voice practically a growl. We need to track them, one of the men from Oregon said, shifting his weight to dismount. He stopped with his leg raised over the saddle as a scream tore through the air. Darcy, Weyland said. He directed his horse off the road in the direction of the scream. Damn it, Weyland, wait. Cam's call was no use. He turned to Cass. If we ride up on them like that, they'll kill the girls. Please, Weyland, stop, she cried. First she saw the man's shoulder slump, and then he hauled on the reins and circled back, waiting on the other side of the ditch. Tears streamed down his face. We have to find them, he said, his eyes imploring Cass to fix this. We will, Cam said. But we can't let them know we're coming. Cowboy fought when they rode up on a dead body Billy assumed was Conrad's. He didn't see for sure due to the horses rearing and charging out around the road and the ditch. Cowboy nearly unseated Billy, dodging a road sign and a dilapidated fence. But with clumsy and rough steering and lots of kicking, he brought the horse back onto the road and headed in the correct direction. He'd just managed to regain his composure and was congratulating himself on staying in the saddle when they approached the down tree, and Cowboy reared, turned on a heel, and threw Billy to the road. The fall came with a brief whirl of colors and shapes, the feeling of clutching for something no longer there, and his stomach rising into his throat. He landed on his arm and shoulder, skidding, and then rolling downhill into the tall, scratching grass of the ditch. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, and he flailed on the ground, struggling for air as he listened to Cowboy's receding hoofbeats. When he could breathe again, he took stock of his injuries. His arm ached, already bruising in the spots where flesh hadn't been torn away. Those spots were oozing blood. But he could move it. His head ached as well, though he couldn't remember hitting it. He climbed onto unsteady legs, scrambled out of the ditch, and made his way to the wagon. He peered over the edge and back pedaled in horror, tripping over his feet and bruising his tailbone as he went down. He flipped onto his hands and knees, bracing himself on his good arm, and tucked the injured one out of the way of the contents of his stomach which came forth with violence. When he finally stopped retching, he heaved himself up off the ground. He took a few deep breaths, hands braced on his knees. What would Cass have done? How would she have known where to go? He stood up, a new energy about him, and started searching both sides of the road, looking for tracks or disturbed grass and brush, any sort of trail he could follow. He saw what he was looking for, a pattern of turned down grass heading into the trees. He plunged forward. The man's dirty hand was clamped so tightly over Lena's mouth that she could barely breathe. He smelled of horses and sweat. She wished she could bite him, but there wasn't room to open her jaw. He had her neck cranked to the side so sharply that pain shot up into her head and down her spine. Maybe he'd break it. Maybe this was how she'd die. Darcy twitched on the ground beside her, and she let out a breath through her nose. She hadn't been sure her sister had survived that blow to the head. Tears of relief prickled Lena's eyes until they spilled out over the man's huge hand. In response, he gripped her tighter. Darcy didn't get up, and Lena was glad. Her own and her sister's hands were bound, but Katie's were not. Katie's hands were up, surrendering to a man who aimed a gun at her. An obvious pulse of pain passed through Katie's body and she grabbed her pregnant belly and fell back off her knees into the grass. She'd been having contractions for several minutes. Lena struggled and tried to scream. Shut up, the man said in her ear. His breath stunk like her father's had that morning, like alcohol. She thought of her father and the cruel words she'd said earlier, but she had little time to regret. More people burst through the bushes into the clearing with them. Lena struggled to turn her head, and to her surprise the man released her mouth. She wanted to scream, but instead, her jaw dropped open as she caught sight of the new arrivals. One of the kidnappers manhandled a wide eyed Billy forward with a knife held to his throat. Cass finally felt the familiar chill of numbness overtaking her as she aimed her gun at the head of the man who held Lena. She couldn't take the shot. Lena was too close. She trained her gun on the man standing over Katie next. If she killed him, he might fire his weapon, which was still pointed at the pregnant woman. It was pointless anyway, Cam had told her to hold. Beside her, Weyland was pale and sweating. He trembled even as she watched, which was why his gun had been taken. Cooler heads were taking aim while Cam crept toward the clearing ahead, ready to announce himself and begin to negotiate. Cass scanned the trees again and saw her brother. He was still holding up his fist, telling them to hold. She felt an anxious rush in her limbs, a need for action. She shoved it down and cast her gaze over the area again. What had they done with the horses? As she turned her gun back, she saw that Katie had fallen, and the man who watched her was looking terrified. Alina's struggling intensified, and then, out from the trees, came a man with a hostage. Cass recognized the blonde hair first, darker here in the shade. Her heart dropped and her throat contracted. Heat seared through her body, hollowing her out and replacing the numbness with fear. She couldn't breathe. It was Billy. He was taller than the man who held him, and they moved awkwardly as they came forward, Billy unable to walk well with his back bent. His upper body pulled away from the knife, shoving harder against his captor's chest and arm. Through the trees behind them came another pair of men, arguing. Her gaze returned to Billy. The man said something in his ear that made Billy set his jaw and shake his head. The man shouted. Lena and Katie's guards hauled them to their feet, Katie crying out in protest. Cass looked back for Cam. He wasn't where he had been. Do you see Cam? she whispered. Yes, Weyland said. He's giving the hold signal. What? A fresh surge of adrenaline rolled through Cass. The man was lifting Darcy to her feet now. There was blood running down from her hairline, and she wobbled as she stood. Lena tried to move toward her sister. Cass's eyes found Billy again. A line of red had appeared beneath the long knife at his throat, and his face tightened in pain. But the man continued to press forward. They were trying to leave. The tension in the woods amped up. A man shoved Lena into Darcy, and the sisters fell to the ground, Weylon gasping at Cass's side as it happened. Katie let out a scream, and the man guarding her shouted something. Now? Cass's voice wavered. Hold, Weyland said. He says to hold. But this time Cass could tell the man did not agree with her brother, and neither did she. Every nerve ending inside her screamed to act now, or it would be too late. She had to save them to save him. Still, she had no shot. Then the man who held Billy shoved him forward, Billy's foot hooked under an exposed root, and he went down to his knees, the knife slicing the side of his face as he fell. For a moment the captor stood in shock, and then his head was knocked backward by the force of Cass's bullet. He crumpled to the ground. Billy looked back at the man and then turned toward her. For a fraction of a second, their gazes met. Then Cass turned and took aim at the man looming over Katie. A shot fired and he went down as a volley of shots rang out through the trees. Cass took aim at the man who had been guarding Lena. He was darting for cover, but not fast enough. Her bullet exploded through his chest, and his body dropped heavily to the earth. Weylon ran across the clearing to his daughter's. Cass's feet carried her toward Billy, even as she took aim at one of the men behind him. The man was aiming a gun back at her. With a quick intake of breath, Cass squeezed the trigger and her shot flew way off. She looked down somewhat in shock to discover her gun had fallen from her grasp. Her right arm burned, and she glanced down as if it belonged to someone else. Blood ran down to her fingertips and dripped from them. Another shot. Cam had taken down the man she'd missed. She ran forward. Billy was trying to stand, reaching out a hand for her, blood running from the wound on his face and trickling down his neck. Cass paused, surprised by the fear in his eyes, and realized he wasn't reaching for her but pointing behind her. She spun just as a fist powered down on her. It caught her on the side of the face, and her body was flung toward the ground. She rolled onto her back when she landed and kicked out hard at her attacker, managing to make contact only with his reaching arms. He shoved her legs away and bent toward her again. Another shot rang out. Blood splattered down over Cass's arms and chest as the man fell onto her. She shoved him away as the sound of his gasp crawled her spine like an insect. He continued to reach for her, but his eyes were now full of terror and desperation. She reached for her knife just as Drew walked up, the beats of his footfalls uneven, though his limp was hardly noticeable. He stood over the man, aimed his pistol, and before he pulled the trigger his eyes met Cass's and held them as he fired. Cass slumped backward and caught her weight with her hands. Her right arm exploded in heat at the impact and collapsed. She cried out as she landed on her injured arm and struggled to roll onto her back to relieve the agony. Through the haze of pain and the grass obscuring her vision, she saw something small and gray dart off into the trees with a lithe, leaping motion. Then Drew was lifting her up. What? Her upper body continued to lift and her arm twisted. She moaned in protest. Propping her against him, Drew began wrapping her injury tightly in a strip of cloth the same color as his shirt. It felt as though he was sawing off her arm. He looked at her without apology when she growled her displeasure. Buck up, babe, you'll be fine, Drew said. She gritted her teeth and nodded, knowing it wasn't serious. Drew would tell her if it were. Across the small clearing, Cass heard pleading voices and arguing, then a sob. She reached across with her good arm and clamped onto Drew's shoulder, using him to pull herself up. He helped her to sit on her own, then stood and jogged away. She watched him go for a second, but dizziness descended like a waterfall, and she had to look away from the movement of his feet. Cass took in a few deep breaths, leaning forward. As her senses began to clear, she could feel Billy's presence like a fire on a cold night. She turned toward that heat, and when she opened her eyes, she was staring straight at him. He was on one knee a couple of yards away from her, looking through his sweat dampened hair. His bloody arm rested across his knee, and in it was the knife that had been at his throat. He hadn't wiped the blood from his face or his neck. His gaze was steady on hers and expectant. He seemed to be waiting, no, bracing for something. Cass flinched as she heard an angry cry from behind her. It was Lena. Using her left arm to clutch at grass, she pulled herself onto her knees and twisted her body, still not trusting herself to stand. Her hand landed on a patch of damp grass, and she looked down to see she was sitting in a small pool of blood. From her arms she guessed, or was it from the man whose body lay a few feet away? Lena railed at Cam, her arms flailing. Behind her, Darcy huddled in Weyland's arms, shaking her head. Drew knelt in the grass nearby, and beside him, protruding from behind a rock, was Katie's belly. Her shirt was half pulled up, and both its fabric and her skin were stained with blood. Worse was the unnatural stillness. The woman wasn't breathing. Cass's eyes flicked back to her brother as she heard him shout Lena, enough. There's nothing we can do. Lena turned from him, disgust and anguish contorting her features. Her shoulders were hunched, and she began to fold in on herself, her knees bending. Then her eyes met Cass's, and she straightened. Cam moved to stop Lena, but she darted out of his reach and bore down on Cass. Cass waited, her head tilting upward in slow motion, as the girl's heavy footsteps grew closer. She was detached from what was about to happen, as if it were a scene and a story she knew by heart. In fact, the only surprise she felt as Lena's arm swung toward her came when she was struck with an open hand. She had been expecting a fist, though the slap was effective in whipping Cass's head aside and almost unseating her. Ignoring the sting of her cheek and the burn in her wounded arm, which she'd again used to catch herself, Cass turned back to look up at Lena. The fist she'd expected came down on her then. She flinched away, and it struck her ear. Her arm folded under her, and she went to the ground. What the hell is wrong with you, you bitch? Lena shouted. Cass rolled on to her side in time to see a booted foot drawing back to kick her. She tensed in anticipation, but suddenly legs appeared between the two of them. Billy stood over her, his hands held out in surrender. This further infuriated Lena, but as the girl reached back to swing at Billy, arms clamped around her body from behind, and lifted her away. Billy knelt down beside Cass and put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at his hand and arm, which sported a nasty road rash. Her head felt heavy and slow, as though it moved through mud. She forced it to tilt so she could look up at him. Behind his head floated Cam's, his features hard, and fading. Her stomach gave a flip as the words. World twirled to the right, and she was consumed by dark. Hello, listeners. Thank you, thank you so much for tuning in to Chapter 10 of the Scarring Underneath. Come back each week for a new chapter, or if you can't wait, the book is available at the major online retailers and at this House of Books in Billings, Montana. You can also request it at your local library. If you'd like to know more about me and my work, you can visit my website, tsdickerson.com, or check out my socials. Links are in the podcast description.