CHAPTER XXV
BLUEWATER MARSH, LEMOYNE, JUNE 9TH 1900
Blood continued to run down Vic's cheek. With every trot April made, the deputy could feel the warm fluid going down his face no matter how many times he wiped it away with his wrist. The pain was unbearable, but the need to find Ellie really helped him ignore it. He still hadn't really stopped to consider the fact that his left eye had been gouged out and that the wound was seriously in need of attention. All he'd done since leaving Saint Denis was wrap his head in crude bandages that April had in her saddle-bag and lay his coat over his lap to keep the drops of blood from covering the rest of his clothes.
Grunting and panting in exhaustion, Vic just kept patting April's neck, "That's good, girl. C'mon, keep goin'."
The lawman had made a beeline for the nearest stable to the Saint Denis train station after leaving the bank and Sawyer behind. He knew that's where April would've been kept, fed and watered since they'd all arrived. Vic had saw her, cracked his first smile in probably a day, and immediately climbed his pearlescent mare and took off. So quick he'd even forgot to pay the stable hands for their work. He could've sworn one of them shouted obscenities at him as he rode off, but didn't give it an ounce of attention.
All Vic could see in his mind was Ellie. That moment she'd been carried away by Roland would not leave his mind. Vic didn't really know who to blame, whether it be Roland himself, that swine Agent Wilson, Sawyer the liar or himself. Mostly, Vic couldn't stop laying the blame at his own door. The guilt in his mind was like a plague. Why did he agree to let her tag along? He kept thinking to himself. Why didn't I just send her back home? But deep down Vic knew that trying to order Ellie to do that would've been a hopeless cause. She was a little rebel, didn't like abiding the rules, just like her Father.
"Fuck sake, Ellie... Why'd you do this to me?" He kept painfully muttering to himself amidst the darkness of the swamps.
The feeling of failure was strong, as Vic had sworn to Ellie's Father many years earlier that if anything at happened to him that Vic would always watch out for her. For twelve years he'd managed that, until today. If things weren't as tense and he wasn't completely focused on the problems at hand, the injured deputy would surely have sat and cried to himself for breaking such an important oath.
All Vic could do was hope and prey that she was still as safe as she could be. Ellie might've been young, but she was far from stupid and very world weary. He had no doubt she'd be putting up a fight one way or another, but that didn't stop the lawman from riding ferociously into the night to find her and finally put an end to the madness that he'd witnessed ever since stepping off the train that day in Valentine.
The path ahead was dark and all Vic could navigate it with was the gloomy night sky above. He had past a few people on his relentless search, but all had given him nothing when asked of Ellie or Roland's whereabouts. Vic understood that they may have been intimidated by the sight of a bloodied lawman with a patch over a missing eye, but he'd tried to make himself as coolheaded as he could to not unnerve them. He'd described a young girl, slightly freckled around the cheeks, a flowery yellow shirt that was slightly too large and if she was accompanied by a much larger man with a bald head and a gaunt, hungered face. Either would've been enough to put him on the right track.
Of the five travelers that had passed during his hour trotting through the swamps of Lemoyne, none had any information that was helpful. Most just wanted to continue on their way, looking nervously at him as they kicked their horses into movement. So, as it stood at that moment, squinting and gritting his teeth with frustration, Vic kept riding along with April at a stern pace, hoping to hell that someone or something came out of the woods to help him.
A few minutes on, Vic patted himself down to find a smoke, pulling one out awkwardly. Setting it between his lips, the deputy tried to get a match lit, but April began to jolt and stumble suddenly, throwing him off focus.
"Hey! Hey! What's the matter, ol' girl?" Vic said aloud in surprise, patting her gently on the head.
The mare began to gently snort, as if something was bothering her. Within a second, Vic saw the lantern up ahead. It was there, within the darkness of the muddy path, brown shrubs and leaning trees. It was a single person on a horse. The maverick lawman was immediately fixated on the figure coming upon him that he made April come to a complete halt in the road.
Vic saw, even with his one good eye, that the man noticed him a good few meters before he eventually got up close. Vic held his right palm over one LeMat out of pure safety. The last thing he needed now was a bullet wound that would surely seal his and Ellie's fate.
"Howdy there, friend." The man greeted him politely, before his face twisted, "Holy hell, you a'ight?"
Vic shook his head, "Can't say that I am. But maybe you could help me with somethin'."
The stranger began unclipping the satchel on his horse's saddle, "Of course, Sheriff. I got here some bourbon. Might help clean that wound there."
"Nah, I ain't lookin' for medical shit. I'm lookin' for some folk. Might be you've seen 'em."
"It's a long empty road," The man replied with a sigh, "Even emptier at night."
Vic motioned with his hand, "I know, I know... But if you could at least answer me a question, I'd be more than grateful."
The stranger, clearly a rancher from his rugged, dirty attire, could see that the lawman was short of breath and at the end of his tether.
"A'ight, Sheriff. Anythin' to help." He finally responded with a sincere, caring tone Vic noted.
"I'm lookin' for... A young girl. She's only sixteen, dark haired. Got an attitude to rival a coyote... Wearin' a yellow shirt with flowers on it? A little on the bigger side for her?" Vic asked, his voice breaking with exhaustion with every word.
The stranger shook his head with a guilty face, "I'm sorry to tell ya, Sheriff... I ain't seen anyone to that description."
"Fuck..." Vic whispered to himself, "How 'bout a big fella? About seven feet, built like a grizzly? Bald, deep eyes that could kill? He'd look in a bad way right about now too?"
"Can't say I have, my friend." The man sighed again, clearly sorry that he couldn't help, "You need to fix that wound, ya know. Could get septic that way. Those bandages clean?"
"Look, I'm sorry to bother you, a'ight?" Vic replied, still out of breath, probably didn't even hear the man's concerns, "I guess I'll keep on goin'."
"Well hold on there, Sheriff." The stranger stopped him, "There's a small fishin' town only a few miles down the road there. Lagras it's called. They even got a store there that'll get you what you need for that eye there. And hell, maybe some folks there seen these two people you're lookin' for."
Vic nodded at the man before taking a look down the dark-filled road. He knew he could make it a little further if he pushed himself on.
"I'll head there then." Vic said graciously, turning back to the man, "I appreciate the help, friend. Thank you."
The stranger tipped his worn hat to Vic, "Happy to help there, Sheriff."
"Look, I ain't a sheriff, you don't need to keep callin' me that " Vic replied with the first laugh he'd had in a while.
The rancher pointed, "You got the badge there. If you ain't a man'o the law then what would you be?"
Vic looked at the badge and back up, "Deputy, up until this afternoon... Now I'm just a man on a hunt, I suppose."
"Well, I hope you find what you huntin'." The man said with a smile, "You need a light for that there smoke?"
The maverick deputy noticed he'd not taken the cigarette from his hand the entire time. He didn't know what to thank the stranger for more. Getting him some useful info finally or offering to give him the smoke he'd been craving for hours.
"I'll take that." Vic said before moving April a little closer to the other man's horse.
The rancher lit a match promptly and Vic leaned over to see the ember spark. Once it did, Vic could've sworn some of the pain went away. He took a few long drags immediately, getting as much of the tobacco in his lung as he could before holding his hand out to the man, covered in dried blood.
"Please know I appreciate this, a'ight?" Vic said as the man shook his hand, "Won't forget it."
"Don't mention it, hunter. Good luck out there." He replied before heading off on a strong gallop into the darkness that Vic had already come from.
The deputy almost felt sad that the man had gone so soon. He'd been the first friendly and helpful fella of a useless bunch. But he couldn't let his feeling dawdle for long, he had to get to this Lagras as soon as he possibly could. So before long, with the smoke between his lips, the renegade took April's reigns and whipped her into a gallop too.
On the ride there, Vic could think of nothing but Ellie and Roland. How much he wanted save one and how much he wanted to kill the other. Even if he now knew the truth, that Sheriff Freeman had sent him after the wrong man for the deaths of his colleagues, Roland was still a plague roaming the lands that had to be put down. The deputy had failed in that mission on the bank's rooftop, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't make the same error twice if he could help it.
But nevertheless, his main goal was to save Ellie. Ever since she'd first waddled towards him as a toddler back in Tumbleweed, he'd had an affection for her that he'd had for nobody else. Her father was a great friend and Vic was forever in his debt, something that the New Austin deputy would never let himself forget about. He had promised that man that he would always look out for her, and now Vic was fixated on it, even if it killed him.
Once he'd finished his smoke, he and April rode relentlessly. They even shot past a few other people, but didn't stop to ask questions again. The deputy wanted to make it to Lagras more than anything at that moment. If it was a remote settlement out in the bayou, then surely it would have many travelers come through often, as was usually the case with those sorta towns. And if that was the case there, hopefully someone knew about Ellie and Roland.
He was almost completely drenched in his own sweat and blood by the time Vic saw the lanterns, candles and campfires in the distance. He needed to rest and April needed watering, but he knew they didn't have long to do so. Every moment Vic spent resting or recuperating was a moment Ellie was getting further away. The deputy made a plan to be out of Lagras as soon as he could be, he didn't want to stay a second longer than he had to.
April slowed down to a gentle walk as she and Vic passed the small, wooden barriers at the town's entrance. It was guarded by just one man wielding a Carbine Repeater. It was clear from just that to the lawman that this settlement wasn't exactly affluent or popular, yet it was definitely preferable to him than the arrogant, self-absorbed vibes he got from Saint Denis.
"Howdy." The man standing guard said to Vic without even looking up.
Vic didn't return the greeting, too focused on finding a watering trough for his pearlescent mare. It didn't take too long to find one thankfully and soon he'd dismounted the saddle, led April up to it and gently lowered her snout to make her drink.
"Drink up, girl. I'll be right back." Vic whispered to her, stroking the fur on her head and patting her neck.
Shortly, after tying her reigns to the trough's nearby post, Vic took his Bolt-Action rifle from the saddle and hung it over his shoulder, turning around to take his first real glance of the Lemoyne fishing settlement.
Even in the darkness Lagras was clearly visible, thanks to its small size. It had a small dock where people were still fishing even at night. It hung over a large lake in the swamps, the gloom of the night sky glittering off of its calm water. Vic had heard how many alligators roamed the Lemoyne swamps, and they did have a reputation for being nocturnal, so he was surprised to see anybody fishing that late at all. But, people still had to make a living he guessed.
The town did have a butcher's stall in one corner of town, though it was unmanned at that time. Across from it stood a makeshift wooden spit hanging multiple pieces of fish and meat. It was clear this town thrived off of the sales of fresh food. Even the air smelled pretty good thanks to all the meat and people cooking at night. It certainly helped wash away the rancid smell of the bayou he'd rode through for far too long.
At the center of the settlement was where the largest campfire was, with a few people sat nearby on logs, drinking, cooking, eating or just resting. One settler was laying completely on his back in the dirt, propping only his head up against the log.
Seeing the relaxed vibe of the settlement helped Vic become a little more relaxed himself, which felt strange after being so tense, stressed and enraged for the last few hours.
People had already started to notice him, Vic realized. It was nothing bad, but he certainly knew that he must've stuck out like a reverend in a brothel. People were nudging their friends and pointing discreetly, but he still noticed. One woman even let out a small gasp.
He could feel the bandages around his eye socket begin to dampen with the blood that had continued seeping through, so he still looked like a man only inches from the grave. The deputy knew he had to change them and sterilize the wound somehow, and this was the best time to get what he needed, then he'd make his inquiries.
After taking one last check on April, who was still gulping away from the trough, Vic began making his way towards the campfire. He felt weak on his legs and as he went to light another smoke, he noticed his hands were slightly trembling. From blood loss, that was certain, but nonetheless he kept fighting onward.
Taking his first drag of another cigarette and wafting the match out, Vic arrived at the campfire and the few folks sitting by it. It was a couple of guys and one woman. All looked rough, especially given the area they appeared to belong to. They weren't from the wealthy world of Saint Denis, that was clear and he didn't mind it one bit.
"You a stranger around here, fella?" Said the woman, chewing tobacco and spitting it whenever she could.
Vic blew out a cloud of tobacco before replying, "What gave you that idea?"
"Men of the law don't usually be comin' through here." She said with a smirk, looking towards the shiny badge on Vic's blood soiled waistcoat.
"Believe me, darlin'... At this point I'm far from any fuckin' kinda law." Vic said somberly, looking away with his one eye.
"Well, lookin' at your face there, I don't imagine you've managed to dish out any sorta justice as of late." She replied before pointing, "Bait and Tackle store over there. Get you some tonic's and fresh cloths, 'cause you get an infection out here, you as good as dead."
She was right and Vic knew it. The bayou and its labyrinth of swamps was a haven for bacteria's and toxin's. If he was gonna fight his way to Ellie, he had to be at his best and right now he was far from that.
"Place still open?" Vic then then asked the lady.
She scoffed, "Never fuckin' closes."
Vic noticed the fella next to her was half way down a bottle of scotch and it began to look pretty darn dreamy to him. The kind stranger back on the road had offered him some to clean his eye socket, but Vic hadn't been as focused on it at the time. Now, looking the chance again, he wanted a drink. He needed a drink.
"Mind if I take a sip'a that, friend?" Vic asked the man, his voice deep from holding in his latest drag.
After swallowing his latest mouthful, the rough, jeans clad man gave the deputy a thumbs up and handed him the bottle without question, just as the woman next to him spat her own latest mouthful over the fire.
Vic took the bottle of golden fluid and took three deep gulps, probably more than the man was expecting. Yet, seeing how trashed the deputy looked, the Lagras settlers didn't seem to mind. Clearly he needed it more than they did.
After relishing the satisfying burn of the whiskey going down his throat, Vic let out a small but contended moan of pleasure. It was the best thing he'd drank that day. Soon enough, he passed the bottle back.
"Much obliged. Both of ya." Vic said, placing the smoke back between his teeth.
The settler's gave him a respectful nod and watched as he turned and walked on towards the Bait & Tackle shop. It was up a small flight of stairs, above not just the dusty ground, but the murky water's behind it too.
The deputy had thought about asking the people around the fire about Ellie and Roland first, but the fear of still losing blood and possibly his consciousness became stronger and more urgent. Plus, the only store in the swampy settlement was likely to have had every single visitor's custom at some point, so the owner there would probably know more than most others, Vic thought.
The cigarette was at its end by the time he'd climbed the small set of wooden planks posing as stairs, so Vic threw the butt away and swiftly entered the cramped shop. It was almost as small as some communal toilet you'd find far outer the way on a farm. Yet the owner was still somehow able to sit behind the counter on a small stool, fiddling around with fishing line and hooks.
"Evenin'." Vic greeted him.
The shop owner looked up once casually and then snapped back again after seeing the man before him, face caked in dried blood and even fresher blood coming through the crude wraps around his head.
"Mother'a fuckin' christ, what in the hell happened to you?" The owner said, his mouth agape.
Vic grunted and shrugged, "Long story, don't care much to tell it... But, you think I look bad? You wanna see the other guy's knuckles."
"Uhh, what... What can I do for ya?" He then asked Vic, perplexed.
"Gimme somethin' to clean this fuckin' hole." Vic said, pointing to where his left eye had been, "Some better bandages... And a pack of cigarettes if you don't mind."
The owner nodded and began rummaging underneath his counter, the sounds of which made it seem like he had a wardrobes worth of gear in there.
"We got uh... Like a tonic here." The man said, laying a strange brown bottle on the counter, "That should take away any infection you might've already got and keep other ones away."
"A'ight... Anythin' else?"
Still rummaging, the man continued speaking from down below, "Yeah I got some bandages left and even a little whiskey?... This the kinda shit we use out here for 'gator bites and fishin' hooks grabbin' hold'a the wrong thing."
"Many folk around here get bit by fuckin' alligator's and live to talk about it?" Vic asked, his face painfully grimacing.
"You'd be surprised... Most of 'em scatter once they see you ain't alone."
With that, the shop keeper stood back up, this time with a handful of cloths and a pack of Premium Cigarettes. Not the type Vic usually liked to smoke, but he'd take any of 'em at this point.
"So uh... Just douse the tonic on the bandage and apply it to the wound, a'ight?" The shop keeper advised, "Now I ain't no fuckin' doctor, but that's how we do it out here and it works. Won't tickle, I can tell ya that, but it'll hurt a lot less than any infection."
Vic nodded impatiently, he knew what to do but didn't wanna be impolite to the second man that was trying to help. Yet he couldn't help but become more focused now on asking his questions once again.
"A'ight yeah, I think I got it." Vic said hastily, his voice raspy, "Listen... I'm also here to get information on a couple people. You might'a seen 'em out here today sometime?"
The owner nodded, "I do get a lot of folk comin' through here on the daily. I'll give y'all my best but I can't promise nothin'."
"Yeah well, I'll take what I can." Vic sighed after a moment of silence, "One I'm lookin' for is a girl, uh.. Sixteen. She's a little viscous, freckly 'round the cheeks, got a yellow shirt that ain't her size. Might've looked... A little worse for wear."
The owner listened and then looked away in deep thought for a few moments before slowly shaking his head, "No... Afraid I don't recall anyone like that."
After another painful sigh, Vic's face dropped, "A'ight, fine... What about a big guy? Taller than both you and me, bald, bearded, looks fuckin' dangerous? He'd look pretty gnarly 'round about now too."
"Sorry fella, can't say that I have." The owner said with a scrunched up mouth, "We get a lot of folks ridin' through here, and those two would stand out, and nobody's mentioned anyone of the sort."
Vic knew a liar when he saw one, and this man wasn't one of 'em. It hit the deputy's heart like a sledgehammer but there wasn't much he could do. At least the guy had been kind enough to give him supplies to help fight off whatever damn toxin might get in his eye socket. All Vic had left to do was face the fact that he was on his own now for the most part.
"A'ight well, thank you then." Vic said, his voice a grim whisper, "How much do I owe ya?"
The shopkeeper took a glance at the wares he'd lain out on the counter and looked back up at Vic, "I tell you what. It's on me, a'ight?"
"Sorry, friend, I can't do that. Just tell me what I owe ya. Please." Vic replied with a hint of impatience.
"I'm serious." The man said with a stern face, "If I can't help you findin' those two folk then the least I can do is give you that shit for free. You'd likely die without it anyway."
Vic laughed a little, which hurt is face, "There some catch to this?"
"No catch. I just don't mind helpin' polite folk sometimes, a'ight?" The man said, his voice and demeanour very honest, "Got alot of rude sons'a bitches comin' through here recently."
The New Austin lawman took the medical supplies, whiskey and then the smokes before turning towards the door, "Well then I appreciate it. And any rude motherfuckers come through here again, don't be afraid to sling their asses out, a'ight?"
The shopkeeper scoffed, "Couldn't do that today. One of'em was some Pinkerton agent. Would've been nice to throw him out on his ass."
Vic almost dropped the supplies from his hands. He even fell foward a little and had to grab the store's doorframe to hold him upright. In an instant, he turned back to the shopkeep.
"What'd you say?" Vic asked, his voice frantic, "A Pinkerton agent?"
"Yeah, stuck outer the crowd, let me tell ya."
"You get many of 'em? Pinkertons?"
"Nah, he's first in a long time. Why d'ya ask?"
Vic looked away in deep thought for a moment, to both him and the store owner it was one intense pause. It had to be him, he thought. Had to be.
"What'd he look like?" Vic then asked, like an eager child.
The owner's brows dropped low, "Uhh... He was tall. Pretty fuckin' gangly, ya know? Thin as a pine branch."
"Ugly motherfucker?" The deputy then asked sharply, his teeth gritting.
"Uh I mean, I guess so... I don't usually go 'roung judgin' fella's looks but yeah, he weren't a pretty one."
It was Wilson, Vic thought. He knew it right away. He'd never given him much thought since leaving Saint Denis, given that it was Roland that hoysted Ellie over his back. But this could've been the break he needed.
"You know him?" The owner then asked.
"You could say that." Vic replied, "He happen to say where he was goin'? Or where he came from?"
"He came outer the swamps at the other side'a town there." The man pointed, "Came on a horse carriage alone. He was in a pretty pissed off mood, so I didn't care much for conversation."
"What'd he buy?"
"Whiskey. That's all."
Vic thought about it all so hard. So hard his head throbbed with pain. If Wilson had came to Lagras alone and from a different path than himself, surely he'd came from somewhere specific. His years as a deputy had helped him make such deductions, as far reaching as they could be.
"Listen, you got no idea what you just did for me." Vic said to the store keeper, almost angrily, "I owe you a fuckin' lot, friend."
The owner was bewildered and at a loss for words. He just watched with a very confused expression as the outer town deputy put down a handful of notes on the counter.
"Keep the change." Vic said, his voice quick and pained, but also invigorated.
Before the owner could count the wad of cash, Vic was outer the Bait & Tackle shop and back over to April within seconds. The deputy secured the supplies in the saddle's bag before untying his mare's reigns from the hitch by the trough. He had his lead, as good a lead as any, and he had to act fast if we was gonna follow it up.
"C'mon, girl. We gotta move." Vic whispered to April, patting her neck before climbing the stirrups.
He was certain that the friendly folks around the main campfire were watching him make such sudden movements, especially given his injuries, but Vic gave it no thought. All he could think about now was his one and only goal left.
Trotting over to the back entrance to Lagras, about a hundred yards from the one Vic had came through, he began inspecting the ground for any tracks. If Wilson had came through on a horse carriage, which is usuaully pulled by two of them, then there would surely be some deep evidence left over.
Even in the dim night light he could see them. Deep marks in the mud. Lagras having a few campfires, torches and lanterns lit in every cabin didn't hurt either. There they were, Vic noticed. Straight lines depressed into the gravel and dirt. Sure they could be anyone's carriage, but having not seen a single one on his journey's through the bayou, it was enough for Vic to follow confidently.
"Let's find her, girl." Vic said aloud again to his mare, "C'mon!"
Kicking his boots, Vic got April into a gallop almost immedietly and shot out of Lagras and back into the darkness of the swamps as the folk there watched him go. It hadn't been a very long stay in the Lemoyne settlement, but if Vic could find Ellie because of it, the place was somewhere he would never ever forget.
It wasn't long down the dark road following the tracks that Vic slowled April down again so that he could finally apply the aid to his face he was so desperately needing. He'd been feeling his head getting lighter, so if he didn't do something soon there was a good chance he'd collapse from April and be swallowed up by bandits, thieves or alligators.
Pulling out the bottle of tonic liquid and the bandages, Vic struggled to open the first. April's trotting jolted him about a little but he didn't mind. As long as his horse was getting them both to wherever the tracks led, she could shake him around all she liked. Soon he got used to it and managed to soak a chunk of the bandages in the clear, fresh fluid and removed the crude wraps from around his head.
At first it hurt, as the cloths had stuck slightly to his wound through the blood and ooze that had leaked from it. No amount of pain was about to stop Vic, though, so he powered through and yanked the bandages from his face as quickly as he could and soon pressed the new, drenched ones against it.
It burnt like nothing he'd felt before. Even Vic Noble, the notoriously tough man from the desolate landscapes of New Austin let out a long, pained shriek. He could've sworn he heard a sizzle come from the wound after applying the liquid. It sounded very much like a spit of meat when you cooked it over a fire.
"Jesus... Fuck!" He shouted through teeth grit together harder than ever before, "Argh! C'MON!"
The pain was so bad it began to feel like it was heading in other areas. He felt them shoot down into his neck and his left shoulder. He knew there wasn't anything wrong with his body other than the lost eye, but clearly this medicine was doing something nothing else would've been able to.
The deputy even felt like his eye socket was crying tears again, even if it was hardly possible anymore. It was probably blood and the tonic running down his face, yet it was still strange feeling, like wiggling the toes of a lost leg.
April began to snort again, likely concerned with what was happening to her rider. Vic strained his face, clenched his teeth so hard his gums bled, but still managed to stroke her mane gently and carefully to make sure she didn't get too distressed.
When he couldn't hold his breathe any longer, Vic sighed the longest sigh of his life. Spitting blood and the bitter liquid from his mouth, he began to see stars. The store owner was right, it did not tickle in the slightest, but surely that meant it was working and gonna keep away any infection. It wasn't a process Vic wanted to repeat, yet he knew he'd have to a few more times if he wanted it to be real clean.
"Just... Keep goin' girl." Vic said to his horse who seemed to be reassured by his voice, "I'm gonna be a'ight."
The renegade lawman kept his mare riding on into the dark, keeping his one remaining eye on the tracks of what he assumed was Agent Wilson's cart. He made sure April was travelling on the far side of the dirt road as to not mess up the markings. He may have been in some excruciating pain, like none he'd felt before, but the thought of finding Ellie kept him going like nothing else.
Vic tried everything possible to distract himself from the pain, even after he'd cleaned it enough to satisfy himself. It was still hard to come to grips with no longer having a left eye, but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused on his mission and the promise he'd made so many years back to Ellie's father.
They had trusted eachother implicitly, and always had eachothers back, which was why Vic had became so loyal. Nobody gave him the time of day when he'd first became a rookie man of the law, but Ellies's daddy was always his friend since they were kids, so he'd given Vic all the support he'd needed after taking on such a job at that age.
"I'm sorry Eric." Vic whispered aloud, "Goddamn it... Why's she so fuckin' much like you?"
Vic kept feeling the guilt, pain and exhaustion. He was starting to lose his sense of hope. How could he have let this happen? He thought. Should he have been sterner? Less lenient? He didn't know. Though it was doubtful, given Ellie's tendancy to completely defy any sense of authority. It was one of the reasons Vic loved her so much. She was her own person, something not a lot of people he knew could say. And once Eric had been taken from the world, she'd became the closest thing he had to his best friend.
"Fuck... I'm so goddamn... I'm sorry." Vic kept saying, his voice breaking.
Vic closed his one eye and let his face fall to his chest before he he felt the light. It was a warm light, warmer than the air in Lemoyne, he knew that right away. Soon he looked up again to see the cabin.
"Whoa..." Vic muttered suddenly, before pulling back on the reigns, "Whoa, whoa! Hol'up now!"
April came to a skidding halt. Vic patted her neck for the effort she'd put in as he glanced at the rundown structure that sat idle on the edge of a muddly bank overlooking a pretty big lake. It was dark still, but the lanterns inside were still flickering away.
Looking down on the ground, Vic saw the tracks of the carriage still there. They'd clearly came upon the cabin before riding off in the direction he had came from Lagras. There was a few rough marks where the horses and the wheels had came to a stop, plus a bunch of footprints. Some small, some big. A great fucking sign, the deputy thought.
Slowly and carefully, Vic climbed down from the saddle again and inspected the foot tracks that led to the cabin's deck, clear as a cloudless sky. He couldn't hear anything coming from within, but it was enough for him to investigate.
"It's a'ight, girl. You just stay put." Vic calmed his mare before equiping a LeMat from it's holster and cocking back the hammer.
April was quiet and calm, which was good but also a strange sign considering their surroundings. The bayou was packed with snakes, birds, rabbits and given how close they were to water, alligators too. Yet his mare was quite happy where she was. Maybe something had scared off most of the wildlife, Vic thought.
The lawman followed the footprints up to the wooden deck, his gun held out carefully. The pain in his face was still pretty bad, yet this was the msot alive he'd felt all damn night.
There was still no sign of life when Vic came upon the door to, yet he still proceeded with as much caution as he could, slowly pushing it open but not stepping foot inside. When the entrance was wide open and he still heard nothing, he felt confident enough to go in, gun at the ready.
What Vic saw inside was exactly what he'd been looking for, but also a nightmare he had been wishing would never become a reality. The place was trashed, probably wasn't in good condition to begin with, but it was clear there'd been a recent commotion inside. The table was tipped over, a chair was laying off its legs, broken glass was covering most of the floor. Thats when he noticed the blood.
"Oh christ..." Vic whispered in despair.
At the back end of the wrecked room, full of trash, mould and grime, was a beam holding the entire structure up. Around the bottom of it were a set of ropes, clearly used to bind hands or feet, Vic knew from experience. They'd been cut apart with a blade and dried blood was all over the floor in a grim circle encompasing the base of the wooden pillar.
"No... Please fuckin' no."
The deputy knew a place of torture when he saw one. He'd seen worse, for sure, but this one meant a hell of a lot more. He didn't wanna believe himself, but he'd seen enough in his years to know what had happened here. He struggled to bring himself to inspect further, wanting instead to just back out of the building, until he saw her hat.
The oversized one that Ellie had been wearing was there at the back of the room behind the makeshift torture pole. He soon rushed to see it up close by hand and found it was also coated in marks of blood. He didn't know whether to let his emotions out and cry or destroy what remained of the interior in a fit of rage. He knew he'd followed the right track, but felt sick to his stomach and was feeling more pain than he'd felt when cleaning his wound.
Shaking and clasping the hat, Vic collapsed back onto the floor, sitting with his eyes fixated on the piece of clothing she'd been wearing shamelessly.
Burying his disfigured face into the hat, Vic fought tooth and nail to hold back a stream of tears. That was the moment he felt a weird sensation underneath him. He'd sat on something hard.
The lawman crouched back up and turned to find the knife. Once sharp but had clearly been blunted slightly by something. He knew that knives were one of Ellie's choices of defense if she was up close with someone. He'd been the one to teach her that for years. Yet the blade didn't seem to have been used on a person, so he looked a little closer.
"What'd you do, Ellie?" Vic asked out loud to the empty room.
Looking closer at the knife, Vic picked away some shards of wood from it. Tiny splitners and dust. It finally hit him, harder than any bullet or punch. He turned around and saw it there on the floor, behind the pillar and just outside the dried smears of blood.
There, scratched hard into the planks that held the floor together, was a message. Written as clear as she'd been able to make it given what Roland and Wilson had likely been subjecting her to. In crude markings and scrapes, was the letter 'W' followed by an arrow pointing towards it. And next to that, the incomplete word 'GRIZ'.
Vic's eyes widened, and he almost felt himself smile again. She wasn't here anymore. They'd taken her with them again, because she was still alive, he realised.
"You smart little shit." Vic said loudly, chuckling slightly.
In her weakened state, she'd told Vic, or whoever had found the cabin first, that Roland was heading to the West Grizzlies. It was a harsh, frigid place up in Ambarino that Vic had heard about. And the bastard still had Ellie with him.
This was it, this was his chance. Vic had never been a believer in any higher power, but if there was one, he was more grateful that day than he'd been at any other moment in his life.
Holstering his LeMat and taking the knife, Vic stood back up with a new found strength and purpose.
"A'ight, Ellie... I'm comin'"
