Chapter Twenty-Four

Cass brings the battle with New Danville to an end. 

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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.

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Chapter 24. Lena hadn't realized how hard it actually was to slash someone's throat.

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Of course, she thought, the knife was dull. She'd felt separate from herself, a spectator in her own fight, until the man's blood splattered out over her hand, and he fell back onto her, pinning her to the ground. She began to hyperventilate, flailing to extract herself from underneath him. Arms dragged the still gurgling man off of her, and hands gripped her under her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. She shuddered, flashing back to rough arms around her and a sweaty hand covering her mouth. But this was Cam. He released her and began wiping her bloody hands off on his shirt. It's okay, you're okay, Lena, he was saying. You saved me. Through her shivering, she realized that she had. She'd tried to shoot the man who was fighting Cam, but her gun had misfired. No, it had been empty. So she'd come up behind him and tried to strangle him. But he'd fought. That's when she'd seen the glimmer of the knife in the grass, and she'd grabbed it and brought it to his throat. It had pulled against the skin and stuck when she hadn't expected it to. Lena. Cam shook her shoulders. It's Derek, she sputtered. Yes, that had been what she'd been saying to herself, over and over as she sped through the woods looking for Cam. What about Derek? Cam asked. He's the mole. How do you Cam was cut off by a familiar and shockingly welcome voice. Cameron! Cass called. Lena glanced over and saw Cass weaving through the trees toward them. Then her vision went white, and she sunk between Cam's hands. Derek's head was pounding fiercely with each step, and the squirming woman wasn't helping. He called out for John. He hardly knew how to think through the pain by the time he stumbled out onto the gravel road. Guns were trained on them from all directions, and Trista's muffled screams intensified, but Derek hardly cared. I said I want to talk to John. Derek was pleased with the calm in his voice despite the storm in his brain. I'm here, said John. We can talk. The man gave a signal, and guns lowered all around. I'm not sure what we have to talk about, though, Derek. You've chosen your side. I can give you her, Derek said, jostling Trista so she stumbled to her knees. And her baby. Population, women, children. Legitimacy. Derek frowned. That hadn't sounded right. God is head hurt. And she'll call out for the daddy, and then we'll have Cameron Hood. John frowned. What do I want with him? His band will fall without him, Derek said. You can still have what we agreed to, if I can still have what was promised. Promised.

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Laughter made Derek's anger burn.

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There it is, Cass thought. It was the distraction she'd been needing. It just wasn't a distraction she liked very well. She put a strong hand on Cam's arm holding him in place. They'd found Billy and Weyland, handed an unconscious Lena to her father, and heard Derrick shouting. All the guards had left the lean to, running to the fence line with weapons aimed. Cam had begun ushering the captives out and leading them away when Derrick had said something that left them all frozen. Derek had Trista. The captives were out, the bomb was ready to be placed, but Derrick had Trista, and she was too close for them to blow the lean to. Cass clicked her tongue until Billy looked at her, then nodded at Cam. Billy's hand replaced hers on her brother's arm, and she crept through the trees to get a better view. John was shaking his head, pressing his fingers to his temple. Most of the men looked at Derrick like he was crazy. There was little stopping them from murdering both Derek and Trista on the spot. Well, that is something I want, John said. Cameron Hood, and Cassidy. I would very much like to talk to the people who killed twice their own number in a clearing and sent the rest of my men running back empty handed. Cass's eyes widened. She'd known New Danville was responsible for the kidnapping and murders, but hearing John refer to it openly was a fresh shock. She heard the sounds of a scuffle. Billy was having trouble restraining Cam, and as she watched, Cam threw a punch that landed Billy on his ass. Freed, her brother ran into the fray, heedless of her whispered pleas for him to stop. I'm right here, Cam yelled. Let her go. That way, John's voice commanded, find the sister, bring her back alive. And then Billy had her arm, and he was dragging her deeper into the trees, shadows closing in on them as he led her the same way Weyland and the captives had gone. She dug in her heels. No, she tugged her arm away. I won't leave them, she said. I'm going back. Cass there are too many, Billy said. Good thing we have a bomb. They're everywhere looking for you. But not for you. Cass grabbed his upper arms. If I go back, they'll take me to John. They'll stop looking. You can get the bomb and light it. So you can be blown up to, he asked. I'll get us out, she said. Whistle at me when it's set, and I'll get us out. Cass pulled away from him before he could protest, and threw herself back the way they'd come. Over her shoulder she saw him dart off the trail, disappearing into the trees. Then she slammed into someone. Hands grabbed her, yanking the rifle over her shoulder. She heard a pop and cried out as it dislocated. She clutched her arm, holding it up so the pain lessened. Her pistol holster was checked, and she shuddered as rough hands brushed the bear skin near her hip. Her knife was pulled from the sheath on her arm, and a cold hard gun barrel pressed into her back. Move, a voice ordered. She nodded and walked down the trail, wincing as the gun barrel was prodded into her at intervals. There were at least three men with her, but adrenaline was blacking out the edges of her vision, and she couldn't count. She could only focus on putting one foot in front of the next as she moved toward her fate. As they rounded the lean to, she wanted so badly to glance down the tree line toward the spot where Billy should be moving up to retrieve the bomb, but her neck seemed cast in cement, head directed at John, who waited in the middle of a group of armed men. Cam was on his knees in front of John, his hands raised. John turned to watch her approach, a smile curving his mouth. Derek still held Trista with a gun to her head. Various men pointed their guns in various directions, at Derek, at Cam, at her. The affair looked comically dangerous, and she let out a dry laugh. What's funny? John asked. Your men, she said, glancing around at the guns pointed every which way, so if anyone missed, John would surely be shot. Weapons down, he ordered, the amusement gone from his expression. Weapons lowered, even the one at her back. With the pressure of the gun gone, Kaz had to fight the urge to charge at John. A sparkle came into his eyes as if he knew what she'd been thinking. No wonder we killed so many in that clearing, she said, then bit her tongue. Now was not the time to let her mouth run. John's jaw clenched and then released as his shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh. We want to surrender, John said. Help us find your survivors and join us. We'll rebuild stronghold and start fresh. Why would you rebuild the city that you bombed? Cass asked. John's head jolted back as if she'd hit him. Cass heard a thump from inside the lean to and her eyes flicked over to it. No one had returned to guard it. Yeah, I know about that, she said. I also know about the bomb that didn't get lit. I suppose I should have expected your men to be as sloppy with their guns as they are with their explosives. A murmur circled her, passing through the ranks of the men. John frowned. The explosion was an accident, he said. Cass glanced at Cam and fixed her eyes on his for a second, widening them. No, she said. I've been there. She turned to look at Trista. Derek still stood over her kneeling form, though his gun was lowered. Cass wiggled her fingers at her side, drawing Trista's gaze. She made a fist. They had a hospital. She fixed Trista with a hard stare and flicked her eyes up at Derek, praying the woman would do what a woman should know how. We could set up a hospital. We have your doctor. John indicated a lean two behind him, and Cass waited, praying to hear the whistle. She couldn't keep this up much longer. Join us, and you could build the place yourself, John said. You have our doctor, Cass said, glancing at Cam once more. We have your bomb. John shook his head. No. Cass shrugged, saying nothing as she let John read the calm honesty in her expression. Where is it? John asked, stalking toward her. He was angry now, convinced. His face grew redder with each step. He grabbed her arms and shook her, his fingernails digging into her skin. I burned half your state to the ground to get you here. Flecks of spit hit Cass's face as he spoke, but she couldn't convince her gaping mouth to close. Her eyes were wide with shock. They had started the fire. John shook her again as he continued. That was my mistake. I've lost men and horses and guns to you, and so help me God I'll lose nothing else. Where is the bomb? Cass shook her head, and he stepped back. He raised a hand, preparing to slap her, and she flinched away, bumping into the guard who'd had the gun on her. Don't, she said. It's in the wagon. She pointed with her good arm. Two wagons, horses hitched and waiting, were parked up the gravel drive just around a bend. John slapped her anyway, and Cass let her head whip back. Holding her cheek she sunk to her knees. Check it, he yelled. Cass heard the sound of several feet rushing away. John, she's Derek started. Shut up, Derrick. Cass waited a heartbeat, then two, before shouting. Now, Trista. She drove her fist upward, delivering an uppercut to John's jaw. The force of the surprise hit knocked him over backward. He sat up and she kicked her boot heel into his face, hearing a crunch as blood spattered out from the impact. He fell back again with a grunt. Cass stepped on his chest, his sternum giving beneath her weight as she bent and pulled his gun, a revolver, from its holster. She aimed first in Derrick's direction, only to find that he was staggering away from Trista holding his balls. Cam was rocketing toward him. Trista stood and ran into the trees, wobbling as she went, and Cass turned to find a new target. Before she could, she was struck in the back of the head. She went down face first and rocked her head back and forth, struggling to stay conscious. Gravel scraped her hands and face, and she blinked away dirt as she tried to reorient herself. Her dislocated shoulder hampered her attempts to stand. Someone kicked her in the ribs and the air gushed out of her lungs. She curled in on herself and tried to roll away. Then a shot fired, followed by a second in quick succession. The man above her cried out, a gun fell to the ground beside her face, and then a heavy weight pinned her legs down as the man fell on top of her, clutching his side. She dragged her lower body out from under him and kicked his gun out of his reach. She looked up to see Billy still holding the rifle, eyes wide. A man to his right aimed a gun at him, and Cass screamed wordlessly. The man went down as Billy whipped around. Weylon had come back, and he stood, pistol in hand, nodding at Billy. Someone tackled Weyland from behind, and Cass struggled to her feet, spots spinning in her vision. She sprinted toward the lean to, passing Billy, who was bashing the butt of his gun into the shoulders of the man who tussled with Weylon. Cass crawled through the fence and swung around the wall of the lean to. The bomb sat in the center of the dirt floor. Billy had reconfigured it, molding it into one large lump. The fuse stretched along the ground to the door she'd come through. She'd probably stepped on the damn thing. She reached for it and remembered she had no way to light it. Her growl became a string of curses, and she ran back out. The group of men who had been checking the wagons had almost torn them apart, looking. The horses were prancing in place and rearing against the men who held them. She had to hurry. The man Weylon and Billy fought fell, and Billy stepped back. He held the same bloody knife at his side, dripping. Cash charged past Weyland to lunge at Billy's hip. She grabbed his fire starter and yanked. He stumbled to the side, crashing into her and dropping the knife just as the fabric gave way, and the firestarter tore free of his jeans. Get our people out of here, she said, flinging her useless arm toward where Cam had been. As she passed Weyland again, she screamed. Get gone now. The pain tearing through her injured arm gave volume to her order, and her own voice sent waves of pain through her head. She skidded into the lean to, Goodhand scuffling in the dirt, searching for the fuse. She could hear approaching footsteps and knew she didn't have time for so much fuse. She reached to her arm for her knife to cut it and touched the fabric of her sheath. Her roar of frustration was cut off as someone slammed into her from behind. Arms clamped over her own, and she and her attacker ploughed forward, taking the bomb with them. Flesh and explosive skidded across the dirt, coming to a stop as the C4 smacked into the back wall of the lean two, its shape changing again. Fresh pain sliced through Cass's wounded shoulder and arm. She squirmed to be free of her captor and heard fabric tear. The arms jerked her away from the bomb and tossed her onto her back. Strong, thick hands wrapped her throat and squeezed. She sucked in tiny, rasping breaths. Derek's face hovered above her, surrounded by a cloud of the dust that rose from the ground with their every movement. She gripped at his wrists and stared up into his bloodshot eyes, feeling as if her own would pop out of her skull from the incredible pressure. The world narrowed as dark circles closed in on the outer edges of her vision. She felt herself weakening. A fingernail broke against Derek's hand, and she lost her grip, unable to claw him further. With no other recourse, she pulled in the tiny amount of air she could manage through her nose and let her body go limp. Her hands fell away, and her head tipped to the side as she forced her eyes to focus on a cobweb hanging from the upper corner of the little shed. The ruse was easy, and for a moment she thought she was truly dead. Derrick's hands loosened and then released, as he raised up onto his knees, letting out a yell of victory. As he celebrated, Cass sucked in a gulp of air, tucked her legs up, and slammed them into his thigh. His legs went out from under him and he fell. Cass rolled as the concussion of his landing reverberated through the dirt. Surprised, he didn't move for a moment. Cass propelled her feet toward his head with all the strength she could muster. He caught it and twisted. She screamed at the wrenching pain in her knee and hip, and rolled her body with his motion, trying to keep the damage minimal. With her free foot she jabbed him in the ribs, but she was coughing from the dirt and the strangulation and didn't have much power. He laughed. His grip on her leg wouldn't loosen. A beam of light came through the wood panels of the lean two, causing the dust around them to glow. Something glimmered at Derrick's calf. Billy's antler handled knife was shoved into Derrick's boot, and it was working its way free as they struggled. She squirmed until she could reach and snatched it. It sliced into Derrick's leg as she jerked, and he finally released her with a surprised grunt. Derrick sat up, reaching for her wrist, but she was quick. She brought the handle of the knife slamming into his temple and knocked him flat. She set the tip of the blade against his left breast. There was no numbness here. Heat pulsed through her body and her brain as she met his eyes. She shoved the knife downward, leaning all her weight against it. It bent against a bone, then slid into his chest, up to the hilt. He grunted and began gasping as she jerked the knife back out. Blood seeped up after the blade, and she met his panicked eyes once more before turning away. Bile burned her throat as she scrabbled about in the dirt clouded area, looking for the fire starter. It was under Derek's still convulsing leg, and she shoved at his boot to grab it. His body went still as she clambered over him and found the coil of fuse. She sliced through it with the knife, shortening it and leaving a bloody line in the dirt. Her left hand was now completely numb due to her dislocated shoulder, and the fire starter slipped from her grasp. She retrieved it and fumbled with the cap. She had to position her near useless fingers with the opposite hand to hold the small object. She struck it once, twice, again and again, her heart pounding harder and harder as she heard shouts and scrambling feet growing closer. They were looking for her. Finally the fuse caught and began to spark and burn with the scent of phosphorus. Cass glanced at the bomb one last time. Her eyes passed over the blood stained and bent knife that had threatened Billy, murdered Drew, and taken revenge on Derek. She left it in the dirt. Knowing she had only seconds to get out, she leaped over Derrick's body, swung madly around the side of the building, and threw herself to the ground to roll under the fence. She risked a backward glance as her legs powered her away. Men were leaping the fence and entering the lean to, John among them. She faced forward in time to narrowly miss a tree. As she swerved, she stumbled over a fallen limb and landed in a pile of bracken, sharp edges splitting her skin all over. The blast came. Her body was powered along the ground, entangled with the tree limb she'd tripped over. All sound became an unbearable buzz. Debris struck her. She slammed into something solid, and her world closed off in darkness. Hello, listeners. Thank you. Thank you so much for tuning in to chapter 24 of The Scarring Underneath. A new chapter releases each week. At least for two more weeks, we are almost at the end. There's one chapter left and the epilogue. Learn what's coming next on my Facebook, Instagram, and Blue Sky pages. Links are in the podcast description.