The power had been restored for four minutes, just four, giving Randall Flynn the time to launch nuclear missiles on the two major cities in the east.…
SEVEN-SIX-FIVE-FOUR-THREE-TWO… Miles counts down loudly and with trepidation while they watch as four ICBMs streak towards Philadelphia and Atlanta. Aaron is frantically trying to reverse what he had done to turn the power back off, hoping to disrupt the guidance systems on the missiles. Unfortunately, it's too late; he can't beat the clock; there just isn't enough time, nuclear missiles hit and annihilate the two cities. Rachel is rendered catatonic as she realizes that by insisting that the power be turned on and helping Aaron do just that, she enabled the destruction of two cities, killing thousands. Not to mention it was her invention that turned the power off in the first place. She is wracked with guilt knowing her actions allowed Randall Flynn to carry out his mission.
Fifteen years earlier, just before the shadow government set their plan in motion, the leaders escaped to Cuba, bringing a large portion of the US Army with them. There, these traitors waited patiently for years for the opportune time to return and take control of what was once the United States. To do that, they needed to destroy the Republics that had formed post-blackout, the Monroe Republic and the Georgia Federation being first on their list. Then after taking Texas and California, they would assert their claim to be the one legitimate government.
Once the missiles were launched, the Tower had been programmed to self-destruct. Miles and Arron are running, dragging an almost catatonic Rachel along, barely escaping while the walls are collapsing around them. Charlie is right behind them as they just make it through the blast doors before it collapses in on itself.
When Monroe destroyed the helicopters, it took a lot of the camp with them. Neville gave up on the Tower. Most of the militia deserted in the chaos, leaving Neville just a handful of soldiers, and his plan for taking over the Republic all but lost.
Miles and Aaron managed to get Rachel back to their waiting wagon. After getting Rachel settled in the back with Aaron, Miles climbed up onto the seat with Charlie and took up the reigns. With nowhere else to go and knowing that he needed to get Rachel some help, Miles decided they would go to Willoughby, Texas, Rachel's childhood home, and her physician father, with the hope that Gene would know what to do and those familiar surroundings would help her recover. Thus began a long and stressful journey. One month later, they reached Willoughby's gates and a shocked Gene Porter.
It's been almost a month since their return to Willoughby, and Rachel is yet to show any significant improvement. Although she is now eating on her own, she spends her days at the kitchen table, writing in a journal and muttering to herself but not speaking to anyone.
Charley is becoming restless. After her father's death, and while trying to rescue her brother from Monroe, Charlie had come to depend on Miles. Now he was completely preoccupied with her mother, and she felt like a third wheel. She was being selfish, and she knew it, but she couldn't seem to help herself. For months after finding Miles hiding in Chicago, Charlie had Miles' full attention. That was until they found her mother and they rekindled their relationship. Now she was feeling lost, without a sense of purpose. (Time to go) she thought.
Ever since Danny died during an attack on a rebel base by one of Monroe's newly powered helicopters, her anger has been building, festering, and that anger morphed into hate. Monroe was the logical person and the perfect outlet to release that anger. The perfect someone to blame for her losses. He was the reason for all her pain as far as she was concerned. (Monroe is out there somewhere, I'm going to find him… finish him…make him pay for taking my family from me).
Decision made, she told Miles and her grandpa her plan to get away for a while. Rachel still wasn't speaking, so who knew if she understood what was happening. Charlie didn't tell Miles her true mission, to kill Monroe. Instead, she said that she needed some space.
Miles walked her to the town gate.
"Charlie, are you sure about this? I'm not happy about you being out there on your own. It's rough country."
"I'll be fine, Miles. I can take care of myself; you taught me," she said, adjusting her crossbow across her back.
"I don't doubt that Charlie, but everyone needs someone to cover their back."
"I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few weeks," wrapping her arms around the strong body of the man, her uncle…(father?), who has come to mean so much to her—even more so than her mother. Her mother, who hadn't been there for her since she was eight when she left to go and be with Miles.
"Keep your stupid to a minimum, kid!" Miles shouted as she walked away.
Charlie laughed, raised her hand, and continued walking.
It's been a month. Charlie approaches a small town in what was once southern Kansas and is now the Plains Nation. Luck had been with her, and her walk up to this point was thankfully uneventful. She had to fight a few aggressive men, but it was nothing that she couldn't handle, and her confidence just grew along with her no-nonsense attitude.
Ready for a hot meal, Charlie walked into the town, found the ever-present pub, went inside, ordered a drink and some stew. While eating, she chatted with the good-looking bartender, ready for a distraction.
"Hi, I'm Jeff, half owner of this place. Haven't seen you around; I think I would remember that" he flirted.
"Chelsea," Charlie replied. Charlie liked him; he was kind and friendly, easy-going.
"Where were you when the surge happened? Me, I missed it, passed out drunk. I heard people were crying." Jeff says, trying to make conversation with the attractive young woman.
Charlie just looked at him, smiled, "you know Jeff, that's the last thing I want to talk about…" She ended up spending the night with him in his one-room apartment over the pub.
It was morning, and Charlie was dressing while Jeff was cooking eggs. He noticed her militia brand. He hadn't noticed it in the gloom of the night before; besides, they were a bit busy.
"You were militia," he comments.
"Conscripted," Charlie replies.
Jeff raises his shirt sleeve and shows her his right arm; Charlie raises an eyebrow. "I joined up, you know… three hots and a cot. I didn't mind it."
"What did you think of Monroe?"
"Actually, Miles Matheson was General at the time. It wasn't all that bad. We were a peacekeeping force, keeping the villages safe from marauders."
"Huh… Monroe was kind of a psycho, though…."
"Yeah, he could be brutal, but he had a lot going on. There was the rebel faction that didn't like the laws of the Republic. They started making trouble, attacking the militia. We had to fight back; what were we supposed to do? Then there was trouble with the Georgia Federation."
"Why's that?"
"The Republic needed another food source. But, from what I understand, negotiations broke down. Monroe and Matheson weren't taking no for an answer."
"So, he went on a rampage?"
"Not really, but we did end up in a war with Georgia."
"Did you ever think that the rebels were right in trying to take down Monroe?"
"No. He and General Matheson may have been heavy-handed at times, but they were keeping our families safe. At least they were trying to."
"Didn't feel that way to me. Our village was so taxed that we could barely get through the winter. The militia would come to the village, take our crops. Some even raped women and young girls. They were brutal...animals. How is that protection when the militia themselves were marauders?"
"That's awful that happened, but there will always be those who take advantage of power. All the squads weren't like that. If the Generals knew about it, it most surely would have been dealt with. That was completely against the code and oath we were all made to sign if you remember." Charlie, of course, didn't remember as she was never really conscripted. "I understand if your village was in one of the outer areas, communication was sparse. Do you know if the town's council ever tried to contact the capital? "
"No, I don't know." Charlie continued, "the militia came into my village, killed my father, and took my brother hostage. They just rode in one day and demanded my father go with them to Philly. He was being summoned by Monroe. Someone in the crowd of villagers that were watching thought they were protecting him and shot a militiaman with an arrow. The squad went nuts and started firing at the crowd. Captain Neville sat there on his horse and let it go on for several minutes before stopping it. When it was over, five people were dead, including my father, and the asshole took my brother hostage. Evidently, Monroe wanted my father brought to the capitol. When Neville couldn't take my father, the dickhead decided to take my brother instead.
I was home on holiday and had gone out hunting that morning. I heard the shots and rushed back to the village to find several of my neighbors dead and my father dying in the street. As my dad was dying, he told me that Danny had been taken."
That was all the information that Charlie was willing to share. She didn't want it known that she was a Matheson. "After what had happened, I deserted and joined the rebels hoping to get my brother back."
Jeff scraped the eggs he had been cooking onto plates, and they sat down to eat.
The conversation continued. "Lucky you weren't caught; desertion was taken very seriously.
How is what happened in your village Monroe's fault? Was the squad sent to kill your father? Wasn't he supposed to just be escorted to Philly? It goes back to self-defense. The squad was fired upon and fired back. Granted Neville should have stepped in right away. I met Neville. He was a sleazy asshole. What happened to your brother?"
"He eventually escaped and joined the rebels. We were reunited in one of the camps. Danny was killed when he shot down one of Monroe's new helicopters. As the helicopter fell, the gun went off and raked my brother across the chest right in front of me."
"That's awful, but it sounds like your brother chose to fight. The rebels were becoming more active, aggressive. What was Monroe supposed to do? Surrender to terrorists? That's what they were. Were we supposed to allow indiscriminate attacks? Throwdown our weapons and throw our hands up and surrender?
It was war, Charlie. A war Monroe and Matheson didn't start. People died on both sides. Now they're saying that Monroe sent the missiles to Philly and Atlanta. Rubbish, why would he do that? He loved that city..."
"You keep defending him," Charlie said, getting a little huffy. "He killed my father and my brother."
Jeff shook his head. This was obviously a sore subject, and understandably. "Chelsea, in fairness, he didn't order your father killed, and your brother chose to fight." Jeff decided to let it go. "You know, I think that I saw him a couple of weeks ago."
That got Charlie's attention. "Monroe?"
"Yeah, I took a week and went to New Vegas for some gambling; took in the fights. I swear one of the fighters was Monroe. Can you believe that?"
"Really? I'm not sure that I would recognize him, only saw a poster once."
"Fairly sure." Charlie stood and started sorting out her pack. "Are you heading out?" Jeff asked. "How about sticking around for a while. I like your company; we could have some fun."
"Thanks, Jeff, it was fun, but I've got to keep going. I'm meeting up with someone."
Charlie said goodbye and headed out of town for New Vegas.
Two weeks later, Charlie found herself on a small hill looking down over "Sin City." It was getting dark, and the place was lit up with torches. A banner was hung across the wide dirt track announcing 'New Vegas' with a dozen or more shiny disks suspended from it, catching the light from the torches as they spun around, adding a festive feel. Several more ropes with hanging CDs were strung between the large circus-like tents. Someone played guitar and sang while the lane teamed with barely dressed women leading men in various states of drunkenness into tents and trailers.
Charlie wandered into a large tent proclaiming that it was a casino offering cards and table games. The tent was packed, and there was a smokey haze. Going to the bar, she sat and ordered a whiskey. She shrugged off a few men that were hitting on her. Finishing her drink, Charlie left to find the fight tent.
It wasn't too difficult; she just had to go to the loudest tent. When she entered the well-lit tent, two men were going at each other with their fists. She stared…(Monroe!) surprised to find how attractive he was. She had never seen him, only on posters. Charlie watched as Monroe took down his opponent. Then she saw him talking to a greasy-looking guy and shaking his head. He took his winnings and left the tent.
Charlie approached the bookie as he was paying out. He looked up from his paper, "You're too late to place a bet, sweetheart. Jimmy's done for the night. You like the fights?"
"I like him," she replied. "Jimmy, you said?"
"Yeah, Jimmy King. He's unstoppable. Been undefeated since he got here."
(I bet) she thinks. "How long is that?"
"Almost two months now, I guess."
Charlie handed the bookie several diamonds, "can I get an introduction?"
Palming the diamonds, he gives her a knowing smile, "I'll talk to him for you."
Telling her where to wait, the bookie made his way to Bass' trailer and pounded on the door.
Bass was sitting shirtless, dabbing at the cuts on his hands with some of the whiskey from the glass he was drinking, the first of what would be several.
"Hey! Jimmy!"
"Yeah, what is it? I'm busy."
"I know you're alone. There's a girl... wants to meet you."
"Not tonight; I'm tired," he growled.
"Trust me; you'll want to meet this one."
Bass downs his drink and pours another one, downs that one. "Where?"
"Back near the fight tent." Having delivered the message, he figured he had earned his diamonds, so he left.
Bass swallowed the remainder of his glass and shrugged on a shirt. He stepped from his trailer and headed back towards the main track. Hidden in the shadows, Charlie was watching him leave his trailer. With an evil smile, she took aim at him with her crossbow. Letting a bolt fly, it barely missed his head as at that exact moment he was whacked from behind and knocked unconscious. Two men grabbed him up by his armpits and dragged him away.
(DAMN IT!) Charlie was stunned and pissed. She had finally found him, and those jackasses had interfered with her chance to end him. She followed and watched as they shoved Monroe into the back of a horse-drawn trailer and took off. She followed.
As luck would have it, the bounty hunters didn't get very far before the trailer got a flat tire. They pulled into an old motel to fix it. Monroe was taken from the back of the wagon, still unconscious, and dragged to into the deep end of the empty pool. They secured him to one of the ladders and left him there while they went to tend to the tire.
It was late when they finished, and they decided to stay there for the night.
Charlie tracked them to the motel, easily catching up to them when they had decided to stay the night. Staying out of sight, she watched the two men. The trailer door was open… (where's Monroe?) Stealthily, she made her way closer and spotted Monroe, unconscious and tied up in the pool. (Like shooting ducks in a barrel.)
Old man bounty hunter was sitting at a picnic bench looking at porn when Charlie came up behind him and clocked him hard over the head with a thick branch. He fell over, solidly knocked out. Laying down her crossbow, she picked up the old guy's pistol. Looking around and not seeing the other younger guy, she crept over to the edge of the pool, intending to put an end to Monroe when BLAM! she was hit in the shoulder by a blast of rock salt, knocking her into the pool right in front of Monroe leaving her unconscious.
When his partner didn't react to the noise of the shotgun, Adam, the younger bounty hunter, went and checked on him; he was dead. Going down into the pool, angry, Adam picked up Charlie and tied her to the ladder across from Monroe. He was pissed. He couldn't believe that that slip of a girl had killed his partner. Now what?
The sun was rising over the trees and shining brightly into the pool. Bass groaned and shook himself awake. (Well, shit… fuck…this is a hell of a thing. God, my head hurts, and I gotta piss) Then he notices Charlie across the pool from him. She is just waking up as well.
"Rise and Shine," he says to her, and he can't help but smile. "Where did you come from?"
Charlie opens her eyes and immediately struggles, then realizes where she is. (Shit…)
"Monroe," she glares.
"Charlotte… It's been a while. How's your mom and Miles?"
Refusing to talk to him, Charlie's fiery blue eyes continue shooting daggers.
"So, it was you that wanted to meet me last night? What did you have in mind?" he said with a suggestive grin.
Charlie continues to glare (as if), "killing your sorry ass… for my father, for Danny."
Adam heard talking and came walking down into the pool and up to Charlie. "You killed my partner," he growled.
"I didn't mean to."
"Doesn't make him any less dead. I heard you talking. So, you're after Monroe." He takes a jar of salve and applies it to Charlie's shoulder, where she was hit with the rock salt. She flinches but doesn't make a sound, only glares.
"Yup, and so are you. So, what are you, bounty hunters?"
"Yeah, six ounces of diamonds for him alive. Six Ounces!"
"Who has the bounty out on him?"
"These guys up from Cuba. They say that they're the US government."
"What do they want with Monroe?"
"War crimes, for bombing Philadelphia and Atlanta."
"Yeah, that's right, I dropped the bombs," Monroe speaks up angrily. "Now, why the fuck would I do that?"
"Because you're crazy," the bounty hunter replies.
Bass listened to Adam and Charlie, taking it all in as he's working on loosening a piece of tile from the pool wall.
"You know, you should just kill him. He'll get free, and he'll kill you," Charlie admonishes the bounty hunter.
"Six ounces! For him alive. I'll take my chances." Adam turns and walks out of the pool.
Bass looks over at Charlie, "So, you're here on your own? What happened to Miles and your mom?"
Charlie continues to ignore him and just gives him a cold stare.
"Tell me... you were there in the Tower when the bombs were sent. It was Flynn, wasn't it."
Charlie dips her head just slightly, acknowledging that he was right.
"I knew it. I walked him right in. I may as well have pushed the button myself." Monroe sighs and takes a deep breath, then softly, "All of those people I was supposed to be protecting, and look what I let happen."
"I'm sure you're all tore up about it. Like you really care. Did it ever occur to you that you suck at your job?" Charlie sneers.
"You don't know me, Charlotte. So shut your mouth."
"I know that you are nothing, just a drunk fighting for coin in a whore house. How far the mighty have fallen," Charlie says with a wicked grin.
Bass shakes his head and chuckles sadly. He goes back to standing silently, waiting for the opportunity that Charlie predicted would come.
Adam took care of his partner, then loaded his wagon and went into the pool for Monroe.
"What about me?" Charlie asks him.
"Well, I can't have you trying to kill him, so I'll just be leaving you here. Hopefully, someone will be by to help you before you die of thirst." Then he releases Monroe from the ladder, grabs his rope, and leads him out of the pool. Adam shoves him into the back of the wagon, secures his hands and feet, and gags him. He takes off down the road leaving Charlie behind.
They hadn't gone a mile when just as Charlie had predicted, Bass was able to cut through his bonds using the piece of tile that he had worked loose and then slipped the latch on the trailer door. The door flies open, Bass jumps out and takes off through the woods. Adam heard the door bang, turned, and saw him running from the wagon. He stops the horses and chases after him. Running headlong into a fence allowed the bounty hunter to catch up to him. Adam didn't realize it, but he didn't stand a chance, just as Charlie had predicted. Bass was a fighter even without a weapon, an undefeated one, and along with his Marine training, almost unstoppable. Bass had him in a chokehold in just under a minute, and then a minute later, he was dead. Leaving him where he fell, Bass went back to the wagon.
As he rummaged about the back of the wagon, looking for weapons, he came across the stack of bounties. There were others, but of interest, in particular, there was his own and, to his surprise, one for Rachel. And there, on the bottom of the flyer, was the symbol of the eye in a concentric triangle. Randall Flynn's symbol. (This isn't good) he thought. While in New Vegas, he had run into a Patriot patrol. He listened to what they had to say and was convinced that they were trouble. Turning the wagon around, he went back to the pool for Charlie.
Charlie had been working on the ropes that were binding her but hadn't made much progress. She looks up when she hears the wagon and starts calling out for help, surprised but then not surprised when Bass walks down into the pool. (I told him he would get away.)
Raising an eyebrow, "You came back," she says to him. "Why?"
"Because, Charlotte, there's going to be trouble, big trouble, and your family is going to need my help. Miles will need my help."
"What kind of trouble? … Really… we don't need anything from you."
"You don't need me? Just how do you propose that you're going to get out of this mess that you're in?" She just glares coldly as Bass proceeds to cut her from her ropes.
"Come with me; you need to see this…."
"I'm not interested in anything that you have to show me."
"That's gratitude for ya. Trust me; you'll want to see this."
Bass leads her to the back of the bounty hunter's wagon.
"I was rummaging around for weapons when I found these," holding up a stack of bounties. The top one was for himself.
Charlie sneered, "Yeah, and your point?"
"My point is this one…" he holds out the next one in the stack for her to see. Wanted - Rachel Matheson - US Government.
Charlie's tone softened, "What do they want with my mom?"
"I don't know, but see this symbol at the bottom of the page? The concentric triangle with the eye in the middle?"
"What about it?"
"Randall Flynn had a lapel pin and ring with that same symbol. It means something, and it's not good. Have you run into any of those khaki bastards walking around with the US flag on their shoulders? They're gonna be trouble, and they're obviously part of this," he says, shaking the bounties at her, "and we need to warn Miles."
"We? Not happening. I'm going to leave now, don't even try to follow me. If you wanna stop me, shoot me," she says boldly getting in his face as he stands there holding the bounty hunter's shotgun. She turned, grabbed her crossbow from near the table where she had left it, and started marching down the road, leaving Bass to stare after her swaying hips.
Rather than fight with her, Bass decided to let her go. He would follow her, and despite her arrogance, she wouldn't know it.
Bass took care of Adam's body and then set out after Charlie at a slow enough pace being sure to stay well behind her. Just before dark, he stopped and made camp. He would pick up her trail again in the morning. And so, it went on like this for three days.
On the fourth day, Charlie approached the small town of Pottsboro. Night was falling, and she was hungry as she walked into the town looking for the bar that was a fixture in every town.
The town almost seemed deserted except for the dim light coming from the bar. Like the town, the bar looked grungy, but it would provide a warm meal and a drink. It was as sleazy on the inside as it looked on the outside. The windows had so much dirt on them that you couldn't see outside, or inside for that matter. The air was murky and heavy with smoke. A table was occupied by several unwashed men playing cards. The light was dim.
They all turn to stare as Charlie walks in and takes a seat at the bar leaning her crossbow against her seat.
"Well, sweetheart, haven't seen you around," comments the grungy bartender.
Charley says nothing, just smiles.
"What can I get-cha?"
"Whiskey. Any food?"
Slapping down a whiskey in front of her, "Have some stew."
"I'll have a bowl."
A few minutes later, the bartender returns with a bowl. Charley digs in; starving, she eats the stew like there's a race to see who can finish first. It's been a few days since she's had a good meal. She ordered another whiskey, drank it, then paid her tab, and stood to leave. She was approached by one of the men in the bar, wanting to buy her another drink.
Charlie brushed him off, told him she was all set and made a move for the door. Reaching the door, she found it padlocked closed. Turning back to the room, the men that had been playing cards were now crowding in on her, making lewd remarks and grabbing at her.
"You should let me leave," she says boldly.
"I don't think so, sweetheart," one of them said. "Pretty thing like you, we're gonna have some fun," as he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back towards the pool table.
Charlie lashed out and got in a few good licks. She broke a chair and used the leg for a weapon. Then the room started to feel off-kilter, and her eyesight blurred; she was dizzy and stumbling.
"What…wha… did you give me?" she said as she staggered back towards a wall on her way to losing consciousness.
At that moment, the doors crashed in, and a crazed Sabastian Monroe pulled both of his swords, looked the room over, and proceeded to slash his way through the would-be rapists before they even knew what hit them. When they were all dead or dying, he found the bartender cowering behind the bar; panicked, "I didn't know! I swear! Please…"
Monroe's steel-blue eyes bore right through him, "You didn't try and help her either, did you. How did that shit get into her food?" The bartender became his last victim of the night.
Bass found Charlie barely conscious where she had fallen against the wall behind the pool table. Finding her crossbow, he slings it over his shoulder. Then picking her up, he carried her out of the bar to where he had hidden the wagon. Laying her in the back, he took off, wanting to put some distance between themselves and Pottsboro before stopping for the night.
An hour out of Pottsboro, it started to rain, and Bass began looking for some shelter. Spotting a barn well off the road, he headed for it. It was in rough shape, but it would do. He unhitched the horses and led them into the barn before going back for Charlie, who was still passed out in the back of the wagon.
Grabbing a bedroll, he laid it out on the ground inside the barn, then went back, picked up her, and carried her into the barn. Laying her down, he positioned her on her side should the drugs make her sick.
Once Charlie was settled, he returned to the horses, wiping them down. There were feed bags for the horses in the wagon, and he rationed some out for them. Looking around, he saw an old hand pump near the side of the barn, and he was pleased to find that it was working. He brought buckets of water in for the horses as well.
After checking on Charlie, he went looking for wood for a fire and found some old broken wood pallets in the back of the barn. The rain was coming down hard now, with thunder moving in.
In the wagon, he found several cans of food. Getting a can of beans and a can of peaches, he put the beans into the pot that he found and heated them over the fire, stirring them with his knife.
Charlie slept through that night and most of the next day. Bass was just starting another supper of beans when she tried to sit up.
"Hey, slow down, take it easy," he said to her when he noticed her waking up.
"Wha.. what…happened?"
"You don't remember? You went into this dive bar, got yourself drugged, and almost gang-raped."
"You came in and stopped them."
Bass just looked at her and tossed her his canteen. "Drink; you need to get the drugs out of your system."
Charlie stared at him, then picked up the canteen and drank.
"Finish it," Bass said.
"So, how long was I out?"
"All of last night and today until now. Don't worry, I was a complete gentleman."
"How did you know where I was? You were following me?"
"You're not as hard to track as you think."
"What happened to the men in the bar?"
"What do you think? Dead. Do you feel like eating?"
"No, stomachs a bit off."
"Just keep drinking then," going back to his beans.
Bass had laid the knife that he had been using to stir the beans on the ground next to him. Charlie stared at it for a minute, then lunged for it. Bass stomped on it, just barely missing her fingers.
"That's not very gracious of you, Charlotte, after I saved your life and all."
Charlie glared, her hate radiating off of her. "Doesn't change anything." She sat quietly on the bedroll, contemplating her next move while Bass was sitting with his back leaning against the side of the barn staring into the fire. Images were running through his head about what had happened in Philly. (Man, I fucked things up...how could I have not seen Flynn for what he was...I ate up his bullshit and walked him right into the Tower… maybe if Miles had been there with me...)
Bass' eyes teared as he thought about what had happened and about the mess his life had become. He was muttering to himself, and Charlie heard him. "Why do you care?" she asks, her voice full of loathing. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. Are you trying to get sympathy out of me? Really? Can you just make your eyes water like that at will?"
Bass looked over at her with a steely glare. "Yeah, Charlotte, I don't care; that's why I dragged you out of that sewer. Like I said before, you don't know me."
"You dragged me out of that bar so that I would take you to Miles. You're a sociopath. You say what you need to get what you want. You're cold, empty, and a killer, and if you're that miserable, I'd be happy to help you with that."
Bass just looked at her and sighed. "You're right about one thing...I am good at killing, even better when I'm with your uncle. You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way." (What a royal bitchy pain in the ass… why am I doing this?) He got up and walked into the barn. The rain had stopped, and he wanted to let the horses out to graze.
Overnight, Bass had tied Charlie's hands and feet so that he could try and get some sleep without worrying that he would find the sharp end of a knife or be impaled by her crossbow. In the morning, Bass untied her and handed her a can of peaches to eat while he started getting the wagon ready.
When she finished with her breakfast, she decided to have a look through the barn. She found some old harnesses in the tack room in the back. Grabbing a bridle, Charlie snuck out a side window and into the old paddock where Bass had let the horses out to graze. She slipped the bridle onto one of the horses, walked him over to the broken fence, used it as a leg up, and settled onto its back. Then she rode away slowly, hoping that she wouldn't be heard. Charlie waited until she was well clear of the paddock before galloping away.
After rearranging the supplies and taking inventory in the wagon, Bass climbed out. Looking around, he didn't see Charlie. He called out to her, thinking that maybe she had needed a tree. No answer. Walking around to the side of the barn, he saw that one of the horses was missing.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
He went back into the barn hoping to find a bridle and found the tack room. Finding what he needed, he stopped at the wagon and snatched a length of rope. Bass approached the second horse and slipped the old bridle on, hoping that the well-worn leather would hold up. With a fist full of mane, he hauled himself up and took off after her.
Charlie had ridden hard for about twenty minutes when the horse spooked, and without a saddle, she fell off. That's how Bass found her—sitting on her ass on the side of the road. The horse grazing not too far away. She got up and found that nothing was hurt except her pride.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?!" Bass yelled as he rode up to her.
"Getting away from you."
"Fine, you want to go? Go. I'll find Miles without you. Might take me a little longer, but I will find him. You're more of a pain in the ass than you're worth. So go, but my horse stays with me."
"Your horse? You stole it!"
"No, I killed for it; makes them mine. So go."
Bass left her standing there as he went and collected the other horse. Wrapping the length of rope he had brought with him around the horse's neck, he led him back to the barn and the wagon.
Charlie started walking down the road, stopped, realized that she had no weapons, food, or pack. She thought for a moment, then reversed direction.
Bass finished cleaning up the camp, hitched the horses, and started off, continuing to head south. Then there's Charlotte, walking towards him. He stopped the wagon next to her and just stared at her with piercing blue eyes. She stared back then climbed up onto the bench seat without saying a word.