What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh (17 page)

When Toby glanced at Janessa, Tom lunged forward and grabbed the young man's right wrist. To his credit, Toby thought to grab for the knife before being wrenched away from the table. He wasn't quick enough and only managed to knock the bladed implement clear of the cutting area, triggering a small avalanche of mixed, uncut vegetables to follow the knife to the floor.

Having thrown Toby clear of the table, the Shepherd picked up the young man's rifle and emptied it's contents onto the floorboards, brass mixing with orange and green on the aged wood. As he had done to Janessa's rifle, Tom removed the bolt from this weapon and put it in one of his pockets. While Toby coughed and slowly pulled himself into a seated position, the Shepherd moved so he was standing over the other man.

The Shepherd asked Toby, “Got that out of your system?”

Still visibly frustrated, Toby nodded nonetheless.

“Good.” Tom looked down at the young man, who was still coughing quietly. “Now, I'm looking to take Angie and Ben away. Given the nature of your community and how it operates, they don't belong here.” He paused. “You planning on stopping me?”

Toby sneered. “How would I do that?”

Tom shrugged. “Where there's a will, there's a way.” He paused, waiting for additional input from Toby. “I'm taking that as a 'no', then.”

The Shepherd took a few steps toward the row of cells and stopped, turning back toward the still sitting Toby. “Come on,” he said to the young man.

Toby rose warily. “What are you gonna do?”

Tom arched an eyebrow. “The specifics are up to you. Can't leave you out here in case you decide to play hero, so I was planning on putting you in one of these cells. You'd probably prefer an empty one.” He gestured to the hall between the cells, using the other man's rifle to point. “Only thing left to decide is whether you're walking on your own or if I'm dragging you. Which is it going to be?”

Toby leveled his shoulders and puffed out his chest. Voice full of bravado, he proclaimed, “Man, I ain't goin' nowhere. Let's see you get your ass over here and try-”

The Shepherd looked at Janessa the moment the other man began speaking and waving his fist. Seeing the young woman content to watch the action, he returned to Toby. Two steps brought him within striking range, raising the barrel of the weapon over his left shoulder. Toby had time enough to bring his arms up, but not far enough. Tom's third step saw him bringing the butt of the rifle down, swiftly cracking the young man in the mouth. Toby cried out and fell back, hands waving in a vain effort to ward off additional blows. The Shepherd raised and lowered the rifle twice more in quick succession, the butt of the weapon striking the young man again; first in the head and then in the ribs.

When Toby began to curl into a fetal position, Tom discarded the rifle and grabbed the young man. One hand on his throat and the other on his shirt, the Shepherd yanked Toby to his feet and slammed him against the wall. When he felt Toby was again supporting his own weight, Tom grabbed the young man by the ear and twisted it sharply.

Toby cried out again and grabbed the Shepherd's hand with both of his own. Tom took long strides to the cells and then down the hall that divided them, dragging the young man behind him. “I'll be right back,” Tom called to Janessa.

Near the end of the row, he found an open chamber. Tom scanned it quickly and found the small room empty. Toby struggled in his grip, grabbing half-heartedly at the hand twisting his ear. “Let go, man. I get it,” he said weakly.

The Shepherd pulled forward sharply, wrenching the young man's ear painfully. Toby went with the motion, stepping into the cell as quickly as the small space would allow. When Tom released his ear, Toby's hand reflexively grabbed it. The two men stared at each other: one having been beaten into submission and now hunched in a cell, the other standing tall and confidant on the outside of that same cell. Tom appreciated the irony of the situation and could only hope it was not entirely lost on Toby. The Shepherd dismissed that sentiment when he closed the door with a thud. The quiet thump of the bolt sliding in place reminded him that his business here was far from finished, however.

Tom found Janessa exactly where he left her. She looked at him and spoke with equal parts accusation and shock. “You said you wouldn't hurt him if I came with you.”

Retrieving Toby's rifle from the pile of loose vegetables on the floor, Tom walked to the far corner and propped the weapon against the wall, then moved an empty barrel in front of it. Crossing back to the tables, he removed the bolt for that rifle from his pocket and buried it in a pile of cukes still atop the cutting surface. While so doing, he responded to Janessa. “I said I didn't want to hurt anyone if I didn't need to, and that was more likely to happen if you came with me. When push came to shove, you didn't offer a lot of help, though.” Fixing her with a level stare, he waited several heartbeats before continuing. “Now, we're headed to the house. If you can't-”

“Whoa, wait a sec,” Janessa interrupted. “What happened to you coming in here, getting the woman and her kid, then us being on our separate ways?”

“Change of plan. With an armed guard on the roof, we won't get very far once we're out in the fields. That's assuming they're both able to travel. There doesn't seem to be a way to the roof from in here, so I can't discretely remove him from the equation. No, the best way to ensure we get out of this alive and well is to have Shane call everyone else off. And to do that, we need to talk to him. Might be able to get Greg back, as well.” His plan outlined, Tom waited for Janessa's response.
I hope she doesn't have to join Toby
, he thought.
Or worse.

He waited while she discovered and considered her options. “What if I won't go with you?”

“There's another empty cell back there. If you resist, you think you'll fare any better than Toby?” Tom knew she would not, but awaited her rebuttal, anyway.

Her face darkened. She took a couple of breaths to steady herself and Tom cut her off before she spoke again. “Let's be honest, Janessa: you're here because I allowed it.” He raised his hand to stem the outrage no doubt ready to pour forth. “I had the drop on you in the forest, but didn't put you down. I know that must chap your ass, but it doesn't make it any less true. The last few minutes have been easier with you here, but I could have managed without you. So for the time being, if you'd like to keep your freedom, you need to stay with me. If you're staying with me, you're doing as I say. Otherwise, you can wait here. I'll deal with you and Toby when I come back for Ben and Angie.”

She shook her head. “Shoulda known,” she said quietly.

Tom pursed his lips. “Should've known what?”

Janessa looked him in the eye. “That you'd act the same way when you're back was against the wall. You made it sound like I had a choice, but when I chose something that doesn't work for you, you turn to threats and violence. Really, it's your way or the highway. You talk a good game, but you're no different than the Old Man.” At this, Tom stiffened.

In the quiet moment that followed, Janessa pressed just a bit further. “You're not going to talk to Shane, are you?”

The Shepherd remained silent, eyes hooded in his long face.

“Bet you never were.” She paused and laughed mirthlessly. “You're going to kill him. Everyone, actually. Right? You're going to kill everyone in the house, probably everyone on this farm.” Shaking her head, she finished. “You're exactly the same.”

After a long pause, Tom finally responded.
Time to show and prove
, he thought. Still looking into Janessa's eyes, he said, “It's true that both of us understand the use of force as a tool, and it seems neither of us are afraid of using it when necessary. And we're both men. Other than that, we're fundamentally different animals.” At this point, he began to walk around the table and cross the space between himself and the young woman. “I'll prove it to you, if you like.”

He watched her stiffen, tensing for blows she had no doubt learned to anticipate from the 'betters' in her community. He watched her resolve waver with every step he took until at last he stood less than a foot from her. She was trembling, eyes wide and blinking rapidly as the fear of his proximity took hold. Gone was the defiant, know-it-all young woman who had judged him only a moment ago. In her place was a shaken girl awaiting punishment. He knew he had heard attention, but waited another few seconds. He watched her patiently.

“Put down my rifle,” he told her softly.

Janessa took a breath that hitched in her throat and shuddered. Without taking her eyes from the Shepherd, she did as she was bidden. Her shaking hands at her sides, she closed her eyes when she heard his next words. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he confirmed her fears, but she did not sob.

“The Old Man would beat you if he were here, wouldn't he?”

She nodded, her beauty marred by fright and sadness. The Shepherd drew the GP100 from its holster on his hip. Taking her right hand in his left, he brought them together between their stomachs. Terror melted from her features and was replaced by confusion. Janessa opened her eyes and watched Tom raise the barrel of the revolver, pressing it into the hollow behind his jaw. His eyes never left hers, not even after he let his own hands fall to his sides, leaving her in sole control of the pistol.

He watched a range of emotions stream across her face; loathing, contempt, fear, disbelief, desperation, reluctance. Relief was the last to play on her features after ten long seconds. The Shepherd asked, “Still think we're the same?”

“I don't know what to think,” she confessed.

“Fair enough,” Tom said. “Just the same, I'll be taking back my pistol, now.” He reached between them gingerly, slowly pushing the revolver from his head and removing his sidearm from the young woman's grip. Her shoulders sagged and she slumped against the wall, as though the Shepherd had somehow taken her strength as well as his weapon.

Holstering the GP, Tom spoke with quiet passion. “Here's the gist of it: that boy deserves better. In truth, so does everyone else, but most here chose this for themselves. Ben deserves a chance to meet his maker on his own terms. To stand and fall on the merit of his own decisions, not for what someone else chose for him. Be judged for his character, not because of what a wayward community did to survive. That won't happen if he grows up here. If he grows up at all, which is a lot less likely the longer he's here. Isn't that right?”

Janessa nodded wearily.

“Both of those things are important. Not just that he be afforded every opportunity to reach adulthood, but that it happen in a more... supportive environment.” Tom paused. “'Supportive' might not have been the word I was looking for. 'Nurturing', maybe. Or-”

“Somewhere better than here. That where you're going with this?” Janessa asked rhetorically. “Cause if so, I agree.” She stopped, caught her breath. “I wanted that for Toby. Jesus, he deserved better than this.” Her head fell forward. Tom could see she was losing the battle, so he took her by the shoulders and pulled her from the wall. He embraced the young woman while she wept, her tears growing spots of wet warmth seeping through his shirt.

The two of them stood in the barn, surrounded by the growing light of early morning. They allowed themselves a time of physical contact where they could take solace in the presence of another person. Tom held Janessa and spoke not a word while she shook quietly in his arms. He merely offered her the silent, supportive companionship one proven human offers another in times of emotional difficulty.
To err is human. To forgive, divine.

After a minute or so, Tom brought the brief, intimate interlude to an end. Taking the young woman by the arms and peeling her away from him, he looked at her. His smile was soft and genuine as he said, “Steel your heart. There's a bit left to do, some of which will be unpleasant. But we've nearly finished it. Come on.”

Janessa nodded. She cleared her throat while wiping her eyes with her fingers, used a sleeve for her nose. Picking up Tom's rifle, she moved to the door. “Let's get it over with.”

This time when they moved, they did so without waiting for the watcher on the roof to face a particular direction, as he would see them the moment they stepped away from the barn. As before, Tom walked in front and Janessa followed, the Shepherd's 'confiscated' rifle pointed in the general direction of his back. It seemed their ruse succeeded, as they reached the porch of the farmhouse uncontested and with no alarmed raised.

Tom stepped onto the porch and stopped at a screen door, waiting until he heard her footsteps behind him. Turning his head just enough so she would see his lips moving, he said, “Things will probably get rough in here.” He watched her reflection in the smoke-dappled window of the front door, saw the warped image shift up and down in the glass as she nodded. Trusting she was ready, he made his way inside.

3.1

The screen door wobbled open with a creek, the sound something from a horror film made long ago. Behind that flimsy partition was a much stouter door. When he turned the knob, he was only somewhat surprised to find it unlocked.
Might be something to that water aversion theory
, Tom thought. With the farm's proximity to the river, perhaps it was in the range of 'dead space' the Turned seemed to allow between themselves and moving water. The Shepherd pushed the door open and followed closely in its wake, entering the house.

It was somewhat darker in the house, but Tom could still make out a silhouette just a few feet away. The man seemed to be moving into the sitting room to the right of the door, and both people seemed momentarily startled by the other. The man in the house, of smaller stature than Tom, turned to face him and spoke only after Janessa appeared in the hall behind the Shepherd.

“The Old Man was right. Guess there was someone else with 'em. He sure will be pleased with you, little lady.” The short man sounded relieved.

“Where's he at?” The young woman asked as Tom moved past the stairs to the second floor and further into the house, straight toward the other man.