Chapter Text
Jack watched the back of Bonnie’s golden mare disappear after the fleeing army. He would have followed himself, but there were no immediate horses left loitering around the body-strewn grounds of the destroyed ranch. Left behind, all Jack could do was search for survivors. His calls for anyone fell empty amongst the dead stillness.
Suddenly a scream of terror broke through the silence, high and feminine.
Jack’s blood froze. Everything came to a halt. Then movement. One boot after another, towards the strangled cry. Jack blindly tore across the ranch, completely senseless. In that moment nothing else mattered except the hammering in Jack’s chest, the desperation to get to Luise in time to stop whatever they were doing to her.
The source of the scream emanated from the Macfarlane house.
“Luise!” He screamed frantically. She was trapped somewhere within those four walls. Harmed? Or worse?
Holding his revolver close, he burst through the front door.
One hand was snaked around her wrist, the other pressed a metallic smile to her throat. The ugly brute had her back caught against his body. Luise grimaced and writhed under the sharp blade.
Click
Jack froze, his revolver only making it halfway towards the brute’s face before pausing. The cold muzzle of a gun pressed into the soft part of his skull.
“Lower the gun.” The man’s voice commanded from behind, pushing his own pistol against Jack’s skull to emphasise his point.
Hairs on end, Jack slowly lowered his revolver, never taking his eyes off of Luise’s as he did so.
“All the way...” The man eased. Jack could hear the sad*stic smile in his voice, feel his breath hitting his neck. After a moment of hesitation, the metal thudded to the floor. The man’s spurred boots whipped forward as fast as a lasso, kicking the revolver out of reach; it scudded to a halt in between the two hostages. An arm snaked around Jack’s neck, trapping him as a cobra would its prey.
Jack inwardly cursed himself for letting the noise of the gun fight cloud his vision of this silent threat.
“Is this him?” The Mexican from behind addressed the man opposite to him in his mother tongue.
The brute looked Jack over, scanning his taut face before concurring, “Yes. It’s him.”
“Alright, alright, you got me. Never realised I was so popular.” Jack growled.
“I see you aren’t as sharp as you think you are, Marston.” The man bit teasingly, shifting back to English once he had confirmed he had the right captive. “No more running from us.”
“What do you want from me?” Jack spat venomously.
“Idiota, I think you already know.” The Mexican chided, venom in his voice.
“No. I don’t. Let her go. She hasn’t done anything.” Jack fought to keep his voice controlled.
“Not until you tell us where Seth Briars is.”
Seth Briars? Who on Earth is that?
Jack gave Luise a look as if to say I’m sorry. But her strained gaze looked past him, concocting a plan.
Buy time.
“Look, I don't know how it is for you fellas back home, but this is not the way we greet somebody.” Jack languidly poked, eating up their dimming patience.
The Mexican sighed raggedly, an edge of annoyance seeping into his cool, collected persona. “Just tell us where he is, American. And then maybe your girl can be spared.”
Luise struggled in her hold, feet discreetly shuffling backwards as she writhed.
“I’m not telling you scumbags sh*t. ‘Cus I don’t know sh*t! And I wouldn’t spill even if my life depended on it.” He said as he eyed a lamp a little ways to his right, mind racing.
A bark of laughter shot out of the man, sharp and unnatural. “Have it your way, I’m sure a bit of time with my friends can loosen your tongue.” He drawled condescendingly.
Jack felt a slight lifting of pressure from around his neck, sensing the man’s weight minutely shifting as he occupied himself with his gun belt. Every cell buzzed in anticipation.
Luise edged further to the wall, her captor following behind her.
A lasso hissed softly from behind as it was pulled from its sheath. Jack’s fingertips tingled.
The Mexican bluntly addressed his other counterpart, “Kill the girl, we won’t be needing her anymore.”
Now!
The brute slashed from left to right, but the blade missed Luise’s flesh, instead it cut a path through air as her head violently slammed back into the captor’s face and sent his head banging into the wall with a rebounding crack.
Simultaneously, Jack careened to the right, outstretched hand reaching for the lamp while he drove his other elbow backwards into the Mexican’s gut, knocking him unsteady. Jack gripped the sturdy base of the lamp and, turning as he followed the path of motion, twisted to face his captor. He brought the lamp down against the Mexican’s head. Crystal daggers of glass cascaded all over the floor with a tinkling crash. Without wasting another second, Jack lunged forwards and the two crashed to the floor. The Mexican swore loudly as his pistol flew from his grasp, landing somewhere amongst the sea of glass shards.
Meanwhile, Luise fell free from the dazed brute’s grasp, landing heavily on the floor. The hilt of Jack’s revolver glistened in front of her tantalisingly. She sprawled forwards for the loaded weapon, before she felt herself being pulled short. The bloodied brute grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards him like a fish on a line. She rolled onto her back just in time as the brute lumbered over her on his knees, rearing the cruel blade upwards. She twisted to the side sharply, narrowly missing the knife as it plunged downwards. The brute tried to pry the knife hilt out from between the floorboards, and she drove her knee upwards into his stomach. Her legs had just enough leverage to push his weight away from the knife.
Jack dug his boots into the floor, knees on either side of the Mexican man, trapping him in a straddle. “Who are you!? Why did you come after me?” Jack roared, and punched the man’s face. A pair of skinny arms latched around his waist and hauled him off with a surprising strength. Jack’s elbows caught him, suspending him with his legs still pinning the aggressor to the ground. The two men scrabbled like dogs, a tangle of limbs and insults, fighting for purchase over one another. Suddenly a blow to the side of the jaw sent Jack sprawling to the side. His back met the cold glassy floor.
The Mexican clambered backwards towards a knife buried in the floorboards, hands scrambling for purchase on the hilt. Jack’s booted foot lashed out, sharply kicking the man’s feet from under him. The man swung the knife in a blind arc as he fell to his knees. Jack snapped his head back, narrowly avoiding the blade’s path. Both men moved to get up, but Jack wasn’t fast enough.
Suddenly he saw stars. His head collided with the floorboards. Stinging pain bloomed from the place where the Mexican’s boot had striked. He raked his tongue across his back teeth, tasting blood.
A sudden weight crushed his chest. He gasped as the cold blade was pressed against his throat.
Jack was trapped against the floor, held at the mercy of knife point.
“You can kill me, but you won’t be gettin’ out of this ranch alive.” Jack snarled.
“I know just what you are, you little worm!” The Mexican cried savagely, red face contorted into an expression of fury. “You’re no Marston, not like your father was.” He taunted, causing red hot blood to pound in Jack’s ears. “No power you’re looking for can ever make you as strong as him if you really are this weak…” He purred, absentmindedly teasing the knife underneath Jack’s Adam's apple, which bobbed angrily.
Seeing nothing but red, Jack almost laughed. “I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, ya moron.”
“Where. Is. Seth. Briars.”
“Up my ass!” Jack choked out as the blade sunk a little deeper into his neck.
The twisted face dropped. “You really don’t know, do you…” He seemed to be putting it together now. “Well in that case…” The Mexican tightened his grip on the knife, an angry smile tugging at his lips. He drew the knife up for the death strike…
Hack - puh!
A massive glob of bloody mucus projected from Jack’s mouth. The Mexican shrieked in disgust and brought a hand to his eyes, blinded by the goopy saliva.
Jack burst upwards with enough force to knock the startled man off of him. The two wrestled, with Jack quickly overpowering him. Both fists closed around the hilt of the knife. He lunged forward with all his weight, the pointed end of the blade soaring straight towards his aggressor’s chest.
But Jack fell short. The knife halted a few inches away from the heaving body of his victim. Strong skinny arms had caught him. His fingers entwined tightly around Jack’s wrists, holding back the knife, the blade jutted from Jack’s hands like a silver jagged tooth.
Jack glanced up to the Mexican, whose face was contorted with effort.
“Low play, Marston. Real low.” He gritted out, edging the knife upwards and away from his chest.
“Don’t talk to me about low.” Jack snarled, pushing the knife back down. “Why are you fools running ‘round takin’ orders like dogs in the middle of an apocalypse?” Jack demanded.
An abrupt noise bubbled from his throat, it took Jack a moment to realise that it was laughter, hysterical and unhinged. The Mexican had his lips drawn back into a crazed smile, baring his blood painted teeth in a reddened snarl. “You think I have a choice!?” He exclaimed. A sticky string of blood webbed from his top to bottom teeth as he spoke. “They came for me! Turns out the son of Flaco Hernandez can make a good outlaw!” He laughed again, this time more bitter, and it sputtered out into a series of coughs that racked his fragile frame.
Jack shuddered at the pathetic sight. Up close, he was surprised that the Mexican man, Hernandez, wasn’t really a man, but just a boy - perhaps of eighteen or nineteen at best.
Sweaty black hair clung to his gaunt face and his skinny arms trembled with effort. His crazed smile did not reach his eyes, which were scrunched with effort, causing the deep lines on his face to stand out like trenches.
“What is all of this for?!” Jack cried angrily, holding the knife steady against Hernandez’s shaking arms.
The boy just laughed again, his eyes squinting provocatively like crescent moons. “Just kill me!” He burst out, a grin spreading across his face, challenging Jack. “Go ahead, I have nothing to live for anyway, no one!”
Unease swirled in Jack’s stomach as he stared into Hernandez's maddened eyes, glistening with terror and sickness. Because in those shining pools of fear, Jack could see his own face reflecting back at him. His own maddened eyes glistened with terror. Young face contorted with effort, making him look older than he really was.
I have NOTHING left - nobody.
This boy was like him. Had lost everyone. Had subsequently found himself following a path that wasn’t his. Hernandez vaguely reminded Jack of someone he had once known when he was young.
The laughter bubbled back up again, rising higher in pitch until it reached a deranged crescendo.
“You don’t have it in you, do you?” He scrutinised, snapping Jack out of it.
His vision tunnelled. A wave of fierce anger washed over him. He pounced forwards with renewed strength, pressing the knife down with all his force. Hernandez grunted in shock.
Ever so slowly, the knife trembled closer to his chest.
His sweat slicked eyebrows furrowed with concentration, chest heaving with effort, eyes never leaving Jack as they sparkled with hatred, daring him, goading him on.
Three inches.
“I can only imagine how your whor* feels having to put up with you!”
Two inches.
“You’re pathetic.”
One inch.
A bone shuddering gunshot snapped Jack from his focus. His head whipped wildly towards the source of the noise. Luise was standing off to the side. She aimed a smoking revolver at the brute of a man, who fell heavily to his knees clutching his gut. She fired a second shot, the brute collapsed to his death a second after.
Suddenly his side met the floorboards with a SMACK! He gasped and curled as a knee drove into his gut. Knuckles crashed into his face, Hernandez no doubt getting a few vengeful licks in while he could. Through the dizzying haze of pain, thumping footfalls could be heard staggering away. Jack cursed and pushed himself up, the knife hanging limply in his hand. He turned to chase after Hernandez, but he had already slipped out the door, was outside whistling for his mount. Jack ran to Luise.
“Are you ok?” He panted, scanning her for any major injuries
“Fine! Let’s go!” She cried, pushing his revolver into his hand and grabbing a pistol with the other. They ran outside, sending bullets after a receding black horse. But he was gone without a trace.
Jack screamed in frustration.
That young boy had gotten under his skin.
