Chapter Eleven

Cass and Billy experience fallout from the attack. 

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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 11. Cass wakened to a steady thrumming in her ears, mirrored by surges of pain from her arm. Slowly other sounds clarified, the even pace of horse hooves on pavement and the rolling of wheels. Whispered voices occasionally broke the more monotonous sounds. Cass shifted her body and realized she was lying in the wagon, cool boards pressing into her shoulder and hip. She was covered with a blanket that scratched against her neck as the wagon turned. Her body rotated, and she would have been rocked onto her stomach had a large warm mass not kept her propped on her side. Someone sat beside her, keeping her lying steady between the side of the wagon and themselves. Her breath caught. Billy? She opened her eyelids to find it wasn't much lighter on the other side of them. The wagon was a shaded brown against a deep blue sky. She looked upward and took in the stars and the glow of moonlight. Then the person beside her shifted, turning to peer into her face. Welcome back, Doc said. Cass pushed away the sinking feeling of disappointment and tried to speak. Her voice came out as a dry croak. Billy, water, Doc said. Cass began to turn her head, looking for Billy, but a light shone on her face and she squinted, flinching away. Ah, Doc said, his hand on the side of her face. Open them. Cass forced her eyes to open, her frowning brow fighting, and her eyes watering against the incredible brightness in the dark. The light shone brighter in one eye, then the other, and it disappeared with a click. A flashlight? she whispered, her hoarseness causing her to cough several times before a hand was placed on the back of her neck, and the steel rim of a water bottle pressed to her lips. She took a sip, another, and the bottle was pulled away. Yes, Doc said. We found some that worked in a fallout shelter. The last of my batteries, though. He cleared his throat and tucked the flashlight into an inner pocket of his coat. How's your head? Cass's eyes had begun to adjust, and she blinked into the darkness, first focusing on Doc's face, and then seeking Billy's. He sat against the opposite side of the wagon, watching in silence, the whites of his eyes catching moonlight. Cass cautiously lifted her head from the pillow someone had fashioned for her by bawling up a coat. Her head ached, but she wasn't dizzy. Her arm pulsed with pain, but nothing too strong. I'm okay, she said. She moved to sit upright, and Doc did not stop her, though she saw Billy tense. She pushed the blankets away, letting the chill of the night wake her further. She glanced up to see Darcy driving the wagon, and with a sick sweep of horror, she realized this was the wagon where Rain and David's bodies were found. Almost as an answer to her thoughts, a cloud passed away from the moon. Earth was bathed in a brighter white illumination, revealing dark stains on the boards of the wagon between her feet and Billy's. She suppressed a shudder. Katie, she whispered. Billy dropped his gaze away, and she turned to see Doc shaking his head. The baby? He held the water bottle out to her, and looked away. Drink. Cass took it, but before she drank she glanced up at the horses pulling their wagon. You found the horses, she said. They were tied nearby in the woods, Doc said. Cass, what's the plan? She now turned to Billy. Do they think these guys were the ones who stole stuff in the storm? In the orchard? Cass. Doc reached out and closed his hand over her wrist. Drink. Cass's nostrils flared, and she felt the clutch of anger grabbing her insides. She felt ready to fling the water bottle into the night. Faster paced hoofbeats came up beside the wagon, distracting her. She turned to see a horseman, edging his mount closer, keeping pace with them. Drew she practically sobbed his name and reached out for him. His hand clasped hers over the side of the wagon, and she felt a surge of strength as if he had gifted it to her. How is she, Doc? Drew asked. She needs to learn to take one thing at a time, Doc said, a sour note in his voice. But she's fine. Of course I'm fine, Cass added. Is everyone okay? Lena, Cam? Where is Cam? Did any of them get away? Drew responded by squeezing her hand until she quieted. Stop, he said. Cam sent me to check on you. We're not stopping until tomorrow night. He'll come to you when it's light. For now, rest. No, Cass said, gritting her teeth to keep her voice controlled. Darcy had turned to watch her. I need to be helping keep watch. Cam doesn't want you right now, Drew said. His tone was guarded, gentle, but blunt. The kind honesty of the Drew she loved. Still she pulled her hand free and turned away. First light, she said, her voice clipped. I love you, Cassidy, Drew said softly, as his horse moved further away. Cass's eyes darted to Billy. He had shifted so he faced the front of the wagon, watching as they weaved between two long abandoned cars stopped on the highway. His face was neutral but stiff, as if he knew she was looking and didn't want to show any reaction. Doc cleared his throat. You'll be interested to know that the bullet just grazed your arm. It's not in there. Okay, she replied, not moving her gaze from Billy. But you have stitches, and you've lost quite a bit of blood. Cass nodded. Now drink and sleep, Doc said. He moved toward the back of the wagon, settling in among the various supplies. Cass took a long swig of the water, feeling it cool the inside of her body to match the outside. Each time her glance landed on Billy, she envisioned driving her gaze into him, making him look at her, making him talk to her. But he didn't turn. Finally she pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and turned to Darcy. House Lena, she whispered. Darcy's shoulders stiffened. It took a moment for her to relax again. Cass had almost given up on getting an answer, though she couldn't blame Darcy for being angry with her. She should have been there for them. Should have been there to save Katie and David and Rain. Cass's eyes had filled with burning tears when Darcy finally answered. Lena's all right. Cass let out a loud, shaking sigh of relief, praying her tears stayed dancing on her eyes and wouldn't run down her cheeks, but as Darcy turned and gave her a sympathetic look, they spilled over hot on her face. Darcy's eyes widened in shock, and she looked away. Cass slumped down further into the blanket and wiped the tears with the back of her hand. When she looked up, Billy had turned to face her. Her look brushed across him, his cheeks swollen and angry but stitched up, his collarbones still caked with dried blood. Bandages covered the wounds on his neck and arm. She met his eyes again, nodded, and sunk back to her side on her makeshift bed. Eventually she heard him snoring. Doc too, but she spent her night watching Billy and the stars, unable to sleep. It was dawn, and Derek was yawning when the group pulled to a stop. Cam announced that everyone should rest for a moment and have a bite to eat, while the leaders had a quick meeting. Derek felt a flicker of hot anger at hearing the announcement spoken from Cam's lips, but he was tired and distracted and shoved the feeling aside. As he followed Cam, he heard Hank call out for a man to join them, so he also gave a nod to Adam, who followed. It wasn't until they came to the end of the caravan and he saw Cass sitting in the wagon that he realized Cam had brought someone else with him. The man, Trace, seemed wildly uncomfortable to be replacing Cass. She leaned against the wagon, tracking the leaders as they passed, and Trace shrugged at her. She shook her head and smiled briefly before letting her gaze become stone again. It spoke volumes about their relationship that she even bothered to reassure him. Meanwhile, Cam never acknowledged his sister. Derrick suppressed a smile. At least part of his plan was working out. A last look at Cass pulled him into the past. Something about her posture and the set of her jaw made him imagine that she was Abby sitting there, disapproving, despairing. How would Abby look at him now, knowing that he'd allowed, even encouraged, what had been done to a pregnant woman and two people too weak to defend themselves? How would she react knowing what would have happened to the teenage girls? They would have suffered the same fate she had, known the same terror that had crossed her face. He'd never forgot that detail, though he'd forgotten so many others. Her eyes on him as they forced him to watch, strong arms restraining him, beating him, proving to him that he couldn't protect her anymore. Voices telling him it wouldn't have happened if only he'd shared her in the first place. He turned away, the familiar grinding ache in his head returning. It didn't matter. Abby would have written him off long ago if she'd been watching the things he'd done. But she wasn't watching, she was dead, and dead was gone. All that mattered was this life, and ultimately the power he gained from his actions, however terrible, would allow him to protect more people than he'd harmed. He could save someone else's lover. He dismounted, clearing his head as the small group of men formed a circle, each of them stretching their tired, stiff muscles. Cam was beginning to speak when Derrick saw the prisoner approaching their group. He held up a hand, his temper flaring. What? he said, warning Billy off with his stare. I uh, Billy said. He held his hands out in front of him, offering up a long knife with an antler handle. The blade gleamed in the rising sunlight as Billy turned and held the knife out to Hank. I think this was Conrad's. Hank reached out and took the knife, nodding. It was, he said. He ran his thumb across the end of the hilt, then narrowed his eyes at Billy. I'm told you went after the kidnapped girls tried to help. Billy's eyes dropped at first, but flicked back up to Hank more confidently. I wanted to help, yes, Billy said. I wasn't successful. Derek looked to Cam expectantly, waiting for him to agree, to condemn the rash actions of Billy and Cass that had gotten Katie killed. Instead, Cam stood with his arms across his chest, just watching. Derek cleared his throat. No, you weren't successful, he said. His tone was of the type to close the conversation, and as Billy made eye contact with him he raised his eyebrows, lifted his shoulders to their full height, and leaned forward, trying to convey to Billy that it was time for him to leave. Billy gave a nod and began to turn away. Hank stopped him with a hand on his arm. The man tipped the knife's hilt toward Billy, whose eyes widened. It's the knife that threatened you you should have it, Hank said. Billy did not reach for the weapon, but said I couldn't accept this. Hank shook his head and continued to offer the knife. With Katie gone, you have more claim to it than anyone. You tried to do the right thing. Trying counts. The hilt of the knife bumped Billy's chest, and he reached up to clasp his hand over it. Thank you, he said. Derrick turned to Cam again, but though the Montanan leader had raised an eyebrow, he seemed more thoughtful than inclined to disagree. Derrick groped about in his mind for a logical protest, but none came quick enough. The prisoner had already left, knife held firmly at his side. Cam started to speak, and Derrick shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was all pointless planning anyway, they wouldn't be attacked again. But he needed to appear concerned and proactive. He needed to show himself to be as strong a leader as Cam or Hank. He shoved aside his irritation at the peace that had come between the other bands and Billy. Cass was still on the outs after all. He turned his focus to the meeting, but what had happened with the knife gnawed at the back of his mind. Drew turned to Cass the minute the leaders finished their meeting. He was not surprised to see her rising to her feet and charging toward her brother. She spoke to Cam and stepped around him, heading for the closest patch of trees. Cam followed. Drew debated whether to leave the siblings to talk alone until he saw Cass roll her shoulder. He shook his head, sighed, and went after them. He wasn't the only one tracking Cass, and when he saw Billy beginning to follow the hoods into the trees, he jogged forward to intercept the other man. Nope, he said, putting a hand up in front of Billy's chest. You stay. I should be there. This is more my fault than hers, Billy said, though he had stopped. Drew shook his head. If you get in the middle, you'll complicate things. Again. Drew turned and followed the sounds of arguing into the woods, not bothering to check over his shoulder to see if Billy had listened. Disobeyed my signal to hold, Cam was shouting, and Cass was in his face, smiling as if proximity made his anger easier to bear. Ha, she said. You've known me all my life, Cam. How often do I obey? Always when it's important. When it's life or death, Cass Katie is dead. I know it! Cass screamed the words, then let her breath out in a rush, as if someone had punched her. She took a step back and turned away. Drew could tell she was fighting tears. Cam, I couldn't hold. We had to act. No, Cass. Cam's voice was firm as he closed the distance between them once more. You should have held. I need to be able to count on you. I need your head to be cool under pressure. What if it had been Trista? Cass looked up at him, wide eyes brimming with liquid. She absorbed what he had said, and swallowed forcefully. So what now, Cam? I'm not your second anymore. You'll always be my second. Cam's voice was softer now, and he reached out to place a hand on Cass's shoulder. She jerked out of reach like his hand would burn. Cam hardened again and said, But I think you should take a break from some of those duties until you get your head on straight again. Trace will fill in. Drew's jaw dropped open, and he felt Cass's anger welling up in his own chest. He watched his best friend nod and cut a path back through the trees toward the group, her face flushed and upper body tense. She didn't look at Drew as she moved past him, but covered the bandage on her injured arm with her opposite hand, and lifted her chin. Drew turned to Cam, struggling to hold back the rage. He swallowed and took a deep breath, but Cam spoke before he could. She should have waited for my signal. Drew let out a snort of laughter. You're not getting this, he said. Picture it like she did, big brother. Drew's tone was derisive, and he widened his shoulders as he spoke, increasing the space he took up in the woods. You said Katie could have been Trista, but you're thinking like you. Cass didn't need a stand-in to represent her mate, he was there. Drew turned to leave but stopped after a few steps to toss another thought over his shoulder. How cool would your head have been, if that blade had been against Trista's throat, if that knife had scarred her face. Days ran together for Billy. All he was aware of was his exhaustion, and the way it was mirrored and all the other drawn faces with circles beneath their eyes. They moved out before dawn every morning, traveled all day, and made camp each twilight. Concerned about another attack, they varied their route, making their path longer. Hunting was seldom a priority, and their supplies dwindled. Billy had expected to be punished, yelled at or even kicked out of the band. But after Hank's decision to give him Conrad's knife, Cam seemed to warm to him as well. He even assigned Billy a rifle at the start of each day, tasking him to defend the group, though he also arrived to take it back as soon as they halted each night. Billy felt his fate was better than Cass's. She seemed to be taking the punishment that he deserved. Trace had been acting as Cam's second, not that there had been a need for one, since all they were doing was running. And since the hidden but overheard fight in the woods, Cass and Cam had not spoken. Cass spent sweat and blood caring for the horses in darkness each night when they stopped, and each morning before they left. Billy helped her, but she spoke to him as little as possible. He didn't blame her. She'd been forced to protect him, forced to make good on her promise to keep him alive. The cost had been two other lives. He wanted to apologize, to thank her, but instead he let Drew take that role. More than once he'd overheard the man telling Cass it wasn't her fault. Katie might have died anyway if she hadn't acted, and who knows who else would have been killed too. Drew had stepped up, where Lena had stepped out. The girl was impossible. She helped with the horses less and less and completely ignored him and Cass when she did. Billy preferred the chilly silence to the way she'd used Cass as a punching bag in the clearing. He only wished she'd gotten in her shots at him instead. Drew had stepped in for Cam as well, acting as an emissary between brother and sister. Every time Cass passed her brother without speaking to him, every time he called on Trace to act as his second instead of her, Billy saw her shoulders sink a bit more toward the ground. Miserable with guilt though he was, he still couldn't keep from watching her. Settled in the grass with his dinner plate, he let his gaze drift to her again. She was sitting in a camping chair, letting Doc examine her arm. The bags beneath her eyes were deep and obvious even from this distance. She barely nodded her head in response to Doc's words. He'd gone after her that day because she'd opened up his world and filled most of it with her strength, and in return he'd closed her off from the few people she'd let in. The ache to thank her for saving his life was worse than the ache of hunger, worse than the ache to touch her again, to kiss her. He hadn't known anything could top those longings. What the hell are you doing with that? A voice asked, high and razor sharp. Billy blinked and turned his face up to see Lena standing over him, scowling. The crowd near them had already been eating quietly, with little energy for conversation, but now they grew silent. Billy glanced back down at his lap where he had been turning Conrad's knife over in his hands. He had been so deep in his thoughts he hadn't noticed he was holding it. He looked back up into her reddening face, surprised she hadn't already noticed that he wore it on his belt. Then again, Lena made a point not to look at him. Did you take that off his body? Spit flew from Lena's mouth as she spoke. She advanced on him, hands and fists. Billy glanced around, hoping to spot Hank somewhere nearby, but Lena kept moving forward and quickly blocked his view. It was given to me, he began. Like hell, Lena said, reaching down and snatching the knife away. Reluctant to take it in the beginning, he had since grown fond of it, and he had to resist the urge to grab it back from her. By Hank, he said, holding his hands up in surrender, but leaning forward, meeting her eyes. Lena hesitated, uncertainty in her body language now. It's true. Derek took a couple of steps toward them from where he'd been sitting on a short stack of decaying pallets. The man spoke louder than Lena had, calling attention from more of those sitting around in the lantern light. Hank offered it to him as a kind of reward for attempting to rescue you and Darcy and Katie. That's bullshit, Lena shouted. There was a murmur through the crowd, and it sounded more like agreement than disapproval. He's the reason Katie's dead. He fucked everything up. There was a scuff of gravel. Cass strode toward them, trailed by a harried dock. He held one end of an off-white cloth that was unraveling from Cass's arm as she moved. For her, Lena continued. For you. She turned to Cass, stopping the older woman in her tracks. He didn't come after us. He came after you. Following you around like he has been this whole time, trying to get in your pants or whatever the fuck he wants, and you're worse, mooning over him like some horny teenager and letting him distract you and put everyone in danger. Lena Danielle Wayland's voice boomed across the crowd as he shoved his way past clumps of people, seated and standing. That's enough. The appearance of her father angered Lena further. She had risen onto the balls of her feet, bouncing like a boxer waiting for the first hit. You don't get to reprimand me, Dad. You're just worried I'll tell everyone what you've been doing, who you've been fucking, on the nights when you were supposed to be on watch. Lena Cass silenced the girl but did nothing to calm her. Billy stood quietly, adrenaline numbing his body to his actions. He had never truly feared Lena until he'd seen her strike Cass and moved to kick her. She seemed as angry now as she'd been then, and this time she gripped his knife by the handle. The sheath was unfastened when she'd taken it, and now the leather had begun to slip down, exposing the blade. Billy's eyes moved from the blade to Cass, who showed no sign she'd noticed it, but kept her glare fixed on Lena's face. Over her shoulder Cam approached. The growing crowd closed up behind him, eager faces rushing to catch the drama. Derrick moved forward. His arms hung loosely from his shoulders, and he was a picture of alert assurance. Lena, he said, your father deserves a night or two of comfort. He hasn't put us in danger. And Billy is Cass's responsibility like one of the horses, that's all. Billy felt his shoulders stiffen, but Lena snorted, distracting him from taking offense. I know them better than you do, she said. She glared first at her father, and then at Cass. Seeing Cam standing tall behind his sister, she dropped her gaze to the knife in her hand. She turned to Billy and lowered her voice. You showed up and got Katie killed. Conrad wouldn't want you to have this. She shook the knife at him, and then chucked it to the ground at his feet. It struck his boot, bruising the top of his foot. Whatever. Lena turned to leave, and then stopped and whipped the backpack off her shoulders. As she dug through it, Billy recognized it as the one Katie had worn. It had been sitting in the wagon and was splattered with blood. Since we're all about giving away dead people's stuff today, here, Lena said. She flung something toward Cass. Cass tried to catch it, fumbled, and bent to retrieve it. It was a necklace, made of braided horse hair. Cass stared down, running her thumb over it. Katie made it, Lena said, shouldering the backpack again. For you. With tears on her face, Alina strode away, shoving through the crowd. Derek muttered something as he turned and made his way after the girl, rubbing his temples. Cass swiped a hand across her cheek, and then closed the necklace in her fist and lowered her arm to her side. Billy bent to retrieve the knife and his plate from where it had fallen when he'd stood, and felt her looking at him. She was standing alone, her arm properly bandaged, and the crowd mostly dispersed, though people still watched from all angles. For a moment, the two of them just gazed at one another through the dim light, two pairs of tired eyes briefly awakened to take the measure of the other. It seemed Cass was trying to decide whether he was worth this trouble, and he supposed he was also assessing the depth of his feelings for her. He wasn't surprised to find his breathing speeding up, and his chest swelling as they braved really looking at one another for the first time since the kidnapping. Every part of him pulled toward her, begging him to go to her. He was taken aback when she spoke. Why did you follow us? she asked. Because I was scared for you? Because I'm in love with you? A thousand explanations flitted through his thoughts before he blurted out a question of his own. Why did you shoot when Cam told you not to? He asked. Cass's eyes widened and shimmered with moisture. It wasn't really all that long before Cass dropped her gaze and spun on her heel, moving back the way she'd come, but it felt like a year's worth of emotion had passed between them. His heart sunk as she disappeared around the corner of a building. He wanted to follow her now as much as he'd wanted to that day. He'd been so sure she was in danger then, and now he knew she wasn't, but it didn't stop him from longing to keep her in his sight. This time, however, he turned and walked in a different direction, letting his heart go after her without him. Hello, listeners. Thank you so much for tuning in to chapter 11 of the Scarring Underneath. Come back each week for a new chapter, or if you can't wait, the ebook and paperback editions are available at the major online retailers. The paperback is also available at this House of Books in Billings, Montana, and you can always 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.