Chapter 34 Chapter 34: A little Chat
The men sprang into action. Tim grabbed my arm, his grip unnecessarily rough, and manhandled me toward the door. As he did, he took the opportunity to grope my breast, his fingers digging in with possessive cruelty.
I was shoved into a small, windowless back room, a storage closet, really, with a heavy bolt on the outside. Trapped with my own miserable, circling thoughts, the minutes stretched into agonising hours as the shadows in the room seemed to press closer. Just when I thought I couldn’t bear the bitter silence and the weight of what I’d done any longer, the lock clicked.
For a fleeting second, my heart surged with a wild, desperate hope of freedom, only to collapse into a cold pit as Tim’s smug silhouette filled the doorway.
“We’re gonna have a little chat, you and I.” He smirked, twirling a heavy baton in his grip. I scrambled back into the corner, bracing myself against the cold wall. My right foot pressed against it, muscles coiled like a spring, ready to strike.
“Now, this can be fun… or it can be hard.” His grin widened, revealing stained teeth. “Your choice.”
I forced a pout, my mind racing, playing the only card, I had left. I slowly, deliberately, undid the top button of my shirt, an invitation, a feint. He took the bait, stepping closer, the lust darkening his gaze making him stupid. His sour breath was hot on my skin. The baton in his hand dipped slightly, my cue.
I lunged. My full weight slammed into him, a surprise attack from the corner. My right hand locked around his throat, cutting off his air, while my left wrenched his wrist back, forcing the baton from his grip. It clattered to the floor. We crashed down in a tangled, desperate struggle, rolling across the rough planks in a silent death embrace. My grip tightened, his breath faltered, his eyes bulging-
Then John’s voice cracked like a whip through the air.
“What the fuck is happening here?” A heavy boot struck Tim’s ribs, sending him sprawling, gasping, across the floor. “Get the hell out, Tim. Now! Tilly, you’re with me.”
As Tim coughed and staggered away, shooting me a look of pure hatred, John’s tone shifted, becoming almost apologetic. “Sorry about that. He’s… overzealous. Mr. Jacks is gonna be fine. Mary’s seen to him. Now… it’s time we talked. Properly.”
He led me through a maze of back passages and hidden doors within the casino, a route known only to them. We finally emerged into the late-afternoon sunlight behind the building. He spoke little along the way, giving me time to catch my breath and let the fading adrenaline shakes subside. Mother, I could use a whole bottle of Stims right now.
We passed the now-familiar fields, the air smelling of earth and growing things, toward the secluded circle of gypsy wagons. One stood out among the rest, finer yet older, more weathered but adorned with intricate carvings of animals and stars that caught the fading light. He knocked a specific pattern, then we entered.
Inside, it was like a treasure chest. Mary and Benjamin sat behind a beautiful, scarred wooden table cluttered with framed photos, delicate ceramic trinkets, and small, curious objects. I’d never seen so many personal things in one place. My three cases of supplies and the long, sleek case containing the T-5000 were stacked neatly and untouched in the corner.
“Nothing’s been touched,” Benjamin blurted out, as if reading my mind.
“Benjamin, mind yourself, she knows that. We’re not thieves,” Mary chided gently, resting a calming hand on his while gesturing for me to take a stool. John thumped a bottle of clear gin onto the table along with four surprisingly delicate crystal shot glasses.
“Now, girl,” John said, his voice calm but intent, “start from the beginning. Don’t leave nothin’ out. Let’s get the full measure of what’s what.”
“At least pour the lass a drink first, John,” Mary said, smiling at him fondly. He obliged, filling my glass to the brim. I downed it in one go, the fire a welcome shock. Mary watched with kind, knowing eyes as he poured for everyone.
“To God and the spirits,” John toasted. We drank again, and he generously refilled each glass without asking.
I took a deep breath, the fiery liquor spreading a false warmth through my cold limbs. “As you know, Mr. Jacks, Max, Ida, and me”
“Who’s Ida?” John interrupted, his brow furrowed.
I clenched my jaw, forcing back the sudden, vivid memory of her body jerking under the gunfire, another life added to my conscience. “Ida was one of Nate’s… friends. A scout.”
“And where is she now?”
I drained my glass, needing the burn. “Dead. They’re all dead. The Rangers too.”
“Benjamin, fetch Nate,” Mary said softly, her voice leaving no room for argument. “He should hear this directly.” Benjamin stood, adjusting his cap with a nervous gesture before slipping out. Mary poured me another drink, her eyes gentle. “Go on, darling. Who else rode out with you?”
I drank again, the warmth spreading, making the wagon’s cosy clutter blur slightly at the edges. My gaze fixed on a slow-burning candle at the table’s centre, its flame a steady point in the turmoil. “Mr. Jacks, Max, Ida, a Ranger called ‘Cap’ or ‘Captain,’ and two others whose names I never got-just hired muscle.”
“Supposed to be?” Mary’s sharp eyes flicked to John, a silent communication passing between them.
“Let her talk,” she said to him. “You can ask your whys and what’s after.”
I swallowed hard, the memory of the betrayal a fresh wound. “It started fine. A few ferals on the ridge, nothing we couldn’t handle. Everything went to hell when we started loading the last crate. The Captain gave an order, and suddenly Max turned his gun on Mr. Jacks. Fired, though not before Mr. Jacks landed a hell of a punch.”
“Aye, he’s a rare one in a fight, old Jacks,” John said, a note of pride in his voice.
“Will you let the girl finish?” Mary sighed, exasperated.
“Just saying-”
“Hush, my love. Give her the floor.”
I took another fortifying drink. “Anyway, they gunned Ida down where she stood. Turned on us. But we got them first. I patched up Mr. Jacks as best I could out there, and then we came straight here. That’s it. That’s all of it.”
“There’s a lot you ain’t sayin’,” John said, not unkindly, “but I can feel it, the vile sting of that first betrayal. You claim they’re all dead now, Max and three seasoned Rangers to boot. Ferals everywhere, drawn to the blood, yet you and a wounded old man put ’em down and rode home without another scratch on you?”
I shot up from my stool, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, my fists clenched. “You callin’ me a liar?”
In a flash, John had his gun pressed against my ribs. “Sit down, girl.”
“John, put that away.” Mary’s voice was steel wrapped in velvet. “And no, I’d never call you a liar. I’ve seen your cards. I know you’re solid. I’m just sayin’ there’s more to you than meets the eye, Tillyanna. You killed three armed Rangers and your ‘friend’ Max, I’m guessin’. That ain’t no small feat, whether it was by brawn or cleverness of heart. But sit. Take another drink. We’ll sit here as family now… waitin’ on Nate to come.”
“The Russian woman,” I asked, the urgency cutting through the gin haze. “Did you reach her? I’ve got the payment. It’s all here and the book. Do you know where they’re keeping it?”
John laughed, a short, surprised bark. “Steady now, girl. You’ve just been through the wars and you’re already chompin’ at the bit for another fight. But yes, the Russian babushka is on a little trip to Angle Falls, visiting her sister. Safe and sound. As for the book…” He leaned forward. “Well, we know the Church of the Machine has it, but we don’t have its exact location within their nest yet. Our contacts are on it, though. Mark my words, we’ll know before sundown.”
I let out a sigh of relief so profound it made me lightheaded. “Thank you. The drugs are there, as promised. All of them.”
Mary smiled at me, patting John’s arm affectionately. “I told you, John. The spirits said she was good, family. She’ll make us a pretty penny yet.” Then, turning her piercing gaze on me, she added, “Now, are you going to tell your sister what power that book truly holds? The one you’re so deathly afraid of them uncovering?”
John stood and moved toward the stacked crates. “Mind if I take a look? Just to be sure everything’s square?” he called over his shoulder.
“Sure, top crate. It’s all there. Just one bottle of the Stims is mine for… personal use.”