Chapter One
"The Longcoats have control of Central City…it's over…"
The voice that Garrett Cain was listening to trailed off as the words tried to sink in. He looked up at the sky, dismayed. His face became pale as the blood rushed from his cheeks. 'If Central City has fallen, that means-' Garrett's thought was interrupted.
"A large contingent of Longcoats was seen heading towards Finaqua…"
"Tin Men…" Garrett said, ignoring what Zeke was saying. There was only one thing on his mind. "What about the Tin Men?"
Zeke looked down at his horse, not wanting to tell Garrett, but he knew he had to. "I'm sorry, Garrett, but from the news I heard, all the Tin Men were killed either during the battle or executed after."
Garrett slowly closed his eyes. He knew that Wyatt would have stayed and defended the city. Zeke continued. "I heard that they rounded up the families of the Tin Men and they were…" he could not finish. His words became stuck in his throat and he could feel the bile rising.
Garrett's head fell forward as his stomach flipped. He knew what Zeke was going to say. He shook his head to acknowledge the news that Zeke had brought him. Zeke nodded in response.
"When did it happen?" Garrett asked, his voice cracking as he fought back his emotions.
"About three days ago." Zeke noticed the look on Garret's face. "I'm sorry, Garrett, but you know how communications are these days. The Longcoats intercept the couriers and check just about everyone. People are afraid to say anything. And don't even think about going to the city to retrieve their bodies."
"Why not? They deserve a burial." Garrett's blue eyes showed no life in them at all. They were cold and distant.
"Because they were all buried in one massive grave. The Longcoats ordered some of the men left in the city to dig a huge pit and the bodies were just…" Zeke paused when he saw Garrett's reaction. "I'm sorry, Garrett. If there's anything I can do, let me know."
Garrett looked at him and gripped the reins of his horse. "Pray." His tone was grave. He turned his horse to the right and rode off towards his cabin. Zeke watched the elder Cain brother disappear from his sight. "Pray to whom?" he said to the air.
~~~~
Garrett held Rebecca as she cried on his shoulder. His own tears fell from his cheeks onto the top of her dress. "He was just a kid, Garrett," she said through sobs that made her body quake. "How can they do that to him…he was so young…what kind of people are they?"
The only answer he could give was to hold her tighter. His brother, sister-in-law and nephew were gone. He felt so empty inside. His heart was ripped in half and a part of him had died. How did this happen? he asked inwardly. He found it hard to accept the fact that he would not see his brother again, would not share a grog with him. Zeke's words came back to haunt him and his body stiffened. Rebecca noticed and she pulled herself away from him. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. She could see the mood change in his eyes.
"Zeke said that the families were being punished," he looked at Rebecca.
"Wait, do you think that…" Fear gripped her and it showed in her tone.
"I wouldn't put it past them. Get the kids, pack some things, I'm going to see mom and dad. When I get back, we're leaving."
"Where're we going?" she asked, looking into Garrett's eyes.
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll find a place for us." He kissed the top of her head and put his hands on her shoulders. He pursed his lips then kissed her kips gently. "I love you," he said with his mouth just inches from hers.
"I love you, too," she responded and their foreheads touched.
"If I'm not back by nightfall, take the kids and go. The cover of the night until the moons rise will help" He saw her eyes begin to water. "Promise me," he cupped her face with his hands.
"Don't make me promise, please," she pleaded.
"Becky," he used her nickname. "If I'm not back, then I've been taken. Don't let them take you and the kids, too. And I don't want to know where you're going, it's better that way."
"But, what if you're just late and you come back and I'm gone?" She wanted to fight him on this.
"Then I'll find you. I am a Cain, you know," he said adding a slight chuckle and a smile. She smiled and then playfully hit him on his shoulder.
"If you want to be back by nightfall, you'd better hurry," she said. Her fingers ghosted over his face and then through his hair, as if trying to record every detail: the feel of his three-day old beard, the feel of his weathered-skin, the curves of his lips and the softness of his curly hair.
He pulled her close to his body and took in her scent and she did the same with him. He smelled like outdoors; the smell of a Quadling winter, leather and horses. She smelled like lavender, the flower she used often in her bath water and used the oil to keep her skin soft. Her hair also smelled like lavender. Her scent was also on her pillow and it was common for him to reach over and hold her pillow just to take in her scent.
They broke the hug and looked into each other's eyes. No words needed to be expressed vocally; the look in their eyes spoke for them. He kissed her again and then reached for his hat and walked out the door. Rebecca watched him ride away and then cried.
~~~~
Garrett mourned for his brother and his family on his way to his parents' home. From what Zeke had told him, the battle for Central City had happened three days ago and that was hard for Garrett to absorb. For three days, he had woken up, done his work around the ranch, milked one of the cows, fixed fences, worked on that hole in the roof, replaced the door on the stable, re-shoed a horse and countless other things and, all the while, his brother, sister-in-law and nephew were dead. He had gone on with his life and that thought made him sick to his stomach. With the sleeve of his heavy wool coat, he wiped the tears from his eyes.
He directed his horse from the tree line of the forest and into the clearing. He stopped and his heart nearly quit pumping.
Smoke rose into the sky. His parents' home was on fire.
He urged his horse to a gallop. "Mom! Dad! Kasey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Gods, no, no, no, no…"
He stopped his horse and jumped from the saddle. He wrapped his long scarf around his head to cover his mouth and then pulled his coat off and tried to beat back the flames with it. "Mom…dad…Kasey…" he called out, but the only sound he heard was the crackling of the fire consuming the wood. The heat was too much for him and he had to back off. The smoke in his lungs caused him to start coughing and he dropped his coat and tried to catch his breath.
Through teary eyes, he saw footprints. Boots. And not the kind of boots his father wore. There was definitely a struggle. He bent down and put his finger in some liquid that had pooled there. His thumb and finger moved in circles as he studied the dark red liquid. It was sticky and thick: Blood. He wiped his fingers on his shirt and saw a trail of footprints. He followed them to the dock and walked to the edge of it. He looked out at the lake; the same lake that he and Wyatt would go swimming in, test out the raft they made – the logs floated apart half-way out on the lake and they bobbed in the lake like a couple of buoys, laughing – and where they fished. He looked down and saw a fishing pole. It belonged to Kasey and she would never have left it out on the dock. He had made it for her for her birthday. He could still her happy face when she opened up the package, the way she squealed in glee and the hug she gave him.
The trip back in time ended abruptly. The news about Wyatt's death and the punishment of his family must have been true after all. Why else would the Longcoats come here? The footprints were definitely from military-style boots. And the only military around these days were the Longcoat forces. So, if the Longcoats were also punishing extended families of the Tin Men and they were here, then…
"Rebecca…" he said with his brows furrowed. A cold chill ran up his spine. Go, NOW! his inward voice screamed inside his head, sending the signal from his brain to his legs to start moving. He turned on his heels and ran towards his horse. He guided the horse around, put his foot in the stirrup, hauled himself up onto the saddle and headed back to his cabin. Along the way, he prayed that he would get there in time.
Along the way he mentally slapped himself for not taking Rebecca and the kids with him. When his cabin was in sight, he pulled his gun from its holster. "Rebecca!" he called out. He urged his horse to run faster. The blue smoke still rose from his chimney, but there was an eerie stillness that made his heart pump faster.
A crack rang out in the still air. Garrett felt the burn in his shoulder and tried to hold onto the reins. There was another crack. His body jerked backwards, the gun fell from his hand and then he lost his grip on the reins. He fell off the horse, backwards, and hit the ground, knocking him into unconsciousness.