GhostImageArt
patreon
The Rifleman - Bk1 - Ch.56
🕑 Added 2024-07-22 08:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter Fifty-Six
The Morning After
Wesley had no idea how long he sat on the wall, watching for movement. What he did know was that it was light when he blinked and came back to himself.
All around him, people were moving listlessly. Many were just sitting, staring into space the way he had been.
“Come on, Wes,” He muttered to himself, forcing himself to stand. “No use just sitting here.”
Taking his own advice, Wesley stowed his rifle and started checking people out. Everyone needed healing of some kind, but he was glad there was nothing that looked life-threatening. Resummoning his Sara simulacrum, he set it to continue checking on people. His other sim had been destroyed as well—he hadn’t even noticed. He resummoned that one and sent it to find Joy and then do whatever she told it to.
That done, Wesley went to find Malia.
He found her sitting with her back to the safe room, a body in her lap, crying quietly.
Wesley crouched down, sending a pulse of Lesser Regenerate through her just in case. She gave him a small smile and wiped her eyes.
“Don’t even know why I’m crying,” She said, her voice cracked and rough. “I hardly even knew him.”
Wesley looked down at the body in her lap.
Justin had died quickly, from what Wesley could tell. Something had ripped his throat out. Even with all the tier nonsense, there was not much chance he survived long like that. It was a small mercy, but he didn’t say that.
Malia knew that better than he did. They had all heard the screams of those who died slowly.
“He was your runner,” Wesley shrugged. “It made him one of your people.”
“He was so damn eager as well,” Malia said with that same sad smile. “I didn’t notice he wasn’t there. In the safe room.”
“We were focused on other things,” Wesley said gently. “We have people to protect.”
“You go on,” Malia nodded. “Check on Joy. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Wesley nodded, placed and hand on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze before he headed inside.
The Saferoom had been covered in mess. Blood, broken weapons, even bodies. All of that had gone when he came in.
Joy was directing people and one sim in the cleanup efforts while cooking furiously.
“Everyone out!” Wesley yelled, and they took one look at his face before fleeing.
“I need them!” Joy snapped, grabbing a brush and scrubbing at the table. “Have to get breakfast ready!”
“Joy,” Wesley called.
“Not now,” Joy insisted. “Come back in a bit!”
Joy practically ran when he tried to hug her, and in the end, he was forced to use a shield to stop her.
“Rude!” She snapped. “I’m busy….”
Wesley gave her a gentle hug.
“It can wait, Joy,” Wesley insisted gently. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
She kicked at him, even punched him a couple of times, and then dissolved into tears.
When she finally stopped sobbing, she looked up at him, and he saw the blood around her mouth.
“I bit it!” She sniffled. “I just… I saw it about to kill the injured….”
“It’s okay, Joy,” Wesley promised. “It was a crazy situation, and you just tried to protect someone.”
“But I BIT it!” Joy persisted. “Like some kind of animal!”
“In war, everyone is an animal,” Wesley said honestly. “We pretend we aren’t, but it’s a lie.”
“Have you ever bit anyone?” Joy asked.
“No,” Wesley admitted. “But only because I couldn’t reach.” He turned his head to one side. “See? Short neck. All the Lancasters have it.”
She smiled.
It wasn’t a laugh, but it was a start.
Most of the day was spent looting the dead, clearing out the things that might attract animals, and rebuilding the wall.
No one spoke about it, but they all wondered if there would be more of them tonight. The titanic bear corpse had rolled all the way down the hill, and Rupert insisted on looting it himself. When he returned, he handed a tooth to every surviving member of the garrison before tying his around his neck.
Everyone did the same.
Again, they didn’t talk about it.
By nightfall, they were all at least rested, and Joy had insisted everyone bathe and clean their clothes. She seemed to be trying to erase any sign of what had happened. Wesley wasn’t sure if that was a healthy way of dealing with things, but it seemed to help her, so he did as she wanted.
Nothing came that night or the next.
“We’re supposed to go west,” Malia said absently on the third morning after the battle. “Hold that area.”
“Yeah, fuck that,” Wesley said with a grimace. “This is bigger than one team can handle.”
“What do you want to do?” Malia asked.
“How about we take this lot and head back to the city?” Wesley asked. “This garrison idea is stupid.”
“I must, reluctantly, concur,” Rupert had clearly been listening in. “There is no chance we can hold this position without significant numbers.”
“It’ll be a long, hard trip,” Malia warned. “We could lose more.”
“If we stay, I’ll lose them all,” Rupert said with a nod, “I’m not one to disobey orders, but my people have given more than anyone could ask. If there is a punishment for my decision, I shall face it gladly.”
“So, we head for the city,” Malia said thoughtfully.
“We do,” Rupert nodded. “I shall inform the men and women of my decision.”
Malia nodded.
“Think Earnshaw will punish him?” Wesley asked.
“No idea,” Malia admitted. “But if he’s looking for a job, we could always recruit him.”
“First, we have to get through that,” Wesley nodded to the snow and steam-wreathed jungle.
“Let’s just hope that bear killed most of the things in there, shall we?” Malia gave him a half smile.
“We can always hope.” Wesley nodded. “In the meantime, let's see if we can’t get a few upgrades for the troops.”
