Stein and Maka barrel across the prairie, over windswept grass and encompassing veld. The air grows heavy, hot as a forge, as the wind howls around them. Maka dares a look back to the west as the disquiet encloses around them, a mighty wall of black leaden clouds smearing the horizon. The acrid scent of wildfire clings to the hot wind causing the horse to snort and fret.
They set upon the ranch, thundering hooves and frantic shouts greeting their arrival. Horses squeal in fright, and people rush about them in a cacophony of panic. Maka looks wildly around in the mayhem, searching and praying for a glimpse to confirm Soul is here and that he's safe. As if in answer to her urgent plea, their eyes meet in the scattered current of people.
Despite the harsh words of their earlier exchange, relief floods her. Soul's eyes flare at the sight of her, dark eyes, radiating a fierce, uncompromising message. "Stay here, stay safe."
She nods, hoping her face mirrors the exact words back to him. Then he's gone, riding away with several others towards the growing inferno.
The smoke blankets the sky within minutes as the prairie fire rages their way. It grows so dark the lamps have to be lit in the house. Curled, feathery ashes brush softly against her hair, raining down from the sky like snow. Clouds build up, but they're empty of rain, and the wind blows so hot and thick that the very air seems to ache and burn. Maka rushes into the house to help Tsubaki and Tad gather only the essentials from the house. They load a flat wagon down and wait, praying that it doesn't come to the worst, abandoning the house.
The men of Forsaken load butts filled with water and piles of blankets and gunnysacks that they soak in the river into hay wagons. They drive them out to fight the fire. They're back for more water within an hour, their faces scorched, their hair singed, their eyes full of worry. The third time they come back to fill the barrels, despite Soul's protest, Maka pushes him aside and climbs up the wagon, taking up the reins herself. Soul is too tired to stop her. She drives the water wagon into a boiling cauldron of heat and smoke.
They meet animals fleeing ahead of the encroaching flames. Thick flocks of birds fly with the blistering wind, the flap of their wings sounding like hundreds of whipping flags; jackrabbits, grouse, and quail dart in frantic circles as if they've lost their heads; herds of deer and antelope gallop through the crackling dry grass, white tails flashing their alarm. And their cattle stamped through the brush-choked coulees and draws, tongues lolling and eyes white-ringed with fright. The fire runs with the unceasing wind, and everything catches in its path. It burns and devours. It roars like a beast of wrath. The flames lick through the tall grass like a thousand greedy, hungry tongues. Great columns of black smoke roll up to meet the clouds, reflecting the fire on itself like the copper bottom of a frypan. The sky rains burning cinders, and ashes seep down like sifted flour.
People come in waves, many of them men from other spreads. The men of the country were at the front line of the fire. Forsaken was the first of the ranches and homesteads threatened, but they know the voracious flames would not be satisfied with only one family's land. It had to be stopped.
They spoke about how the grass had been like tinder for weeks, how when it got this dry and hot, a spark from a campfire or gun discharge could set the whole world ablaze. One man jokes about how they could use a few Indians to do a rain dance right about now. Soul gives the man a withering look, and no one laughs. A couple of the valley's new sodbusters bring teams of horses and plows, they dig a wide furrow to create a firebreak. But the flames spread too fast, the wind blowing too hard, and the grass too dry.
Stein orders her back to the house, but she glares at her uncle and stays. The choking black smoke burns her throat raw and sears her eyes; the stench of burning grass stings her nose, and the falling cinders blister her skin, but she stays. Maka fights the fire, standing beyond the firebreak with the men, flailing at the flying sparks with a water-soaked saddle blanket. Maka hates this country too much to let it beat her, and she loves it too much to let it be destroyed in flame and ruin.
The fierce wind sends glowing cinders flying, swirling, jumping over the firebreaks to spark dozens of small, flickering fires. They rush from one to the other, trying to tamp them down with the wet blankets and gunnysacks. It turns bleak as their efforts are thwarted every time the wind whips up its frenzied dance.
Fight fire with fire; it's crazy enough that the men try it. Soul and Blackstar tie ropes soaked with coal oil to their saddle horns, set the ropes alight and dragged them through the grass of their hay meadow, sacrificing their own land for the greater good. But the wind blows hard and gusty, and the grass around them is too dry.
Maka peers at Soul through the thick air, her eyes weeping from the smoke. He has never looked wilder, like the devil come up from hell than in that moment, dragging the burning rope behind him, with his soot-blackened face, fierce blood eyes, and dark ash-stained wind-tossed hair.
By late afternoon, the fire has spread into the timber that borders the hay fields. With an immense roar, it jumps into the crowns of the great larches and pines. They exploded like gunpowder, and the sky erupted into a volcano of burning cones and falling branches streaming death.
"We ain't stopping her now!" Blackstar shouts against the roar and crackle of the flames. "What should we do, boss?" Every red-rimmed eye turns to Stien. Through shimmering heat waves, his tall frame looms black against the wall of red light.
"We're going to have to pull back! Go! Get your families safely away, and then we'll meet back here. We hold the line as long as possible."
The rest of the men not from Forsaken mount their horses and flee back to their homes, ranches, and farms to save what they can. Maka slaps at her smoldering shirt sleeve with her scorched blanket. Soul grabs for her, pushing her towards one of the now empty wagons, all the water dry and gone. "You have to go! Drive back to the house and gather up pronto what you can't bear to lose! You've got maybe an hour!" he shouts over the din.
She looks wildly around her, trees erupting into flame. "What about you?! Where's Blackstar and Justin? I'm not leaving without you! Without all of you!"
"We'll be right behind you, kid. Now move!" He heaves her up like a sack of feed onto the wagon seat, his motions choppy with fatigue, but his hands are solid and reassuring around her waist.
"No! We can't let it beat us!" she shouts over the roaring trees. A burning twig lands in her hair, and she carelessly brushed it aside with her blistered hand. The heat from the fire has enveloped her for so long that she feels seared, as empty and dry as a seed husk. "I won't let it beat us! It can't take our home from us!" she nearly weeps.
Soul looks up at her, his hands coming up to cup her face. "This fire could take the trees, the hay, the cattle. It could take the whole damn world for all I care. My home is the people here, my home is with you. And I need you to leave here now and get as far away as possible."
She juts her chin up stubbornly, ready to argue, but the look on his face causes her words to catch in her dry, burning throat. The air is hotter than she's ever felt, but goose bumps clothe her exposed skin.
A panicked expression flits across his dark features. His gaze holds her pinned, his eyes imploring. "Go. Please." He whispers hoarsely, his voice dry and grating like the wind.
She nods once, and Soul drops his hands from her face. His expression is grim as he forces out a parched shout. "I need a volunteer!"
Justin is by his side in an instant, his tall, unwavering presence as solid as the wall of flame that swallows the sky.
"I need you to take her back to the house. I need y'all to evacuate everyone left there." Justin nods firmly.
"I need you to keep her safe." Soul says a little too forcefully.
"Yes, boss, I'll protect her with my life" Justin promises in that quiet way of his.
Something strange passes between the two men then, an awareness, a strained yet unspoken understanding of some kind. Maka doesn't know what to make of the look they share, but just as quickly the men break apart, Justin rounding for the horses and Soul turning to her.
The fire reflects in his eyes, making his crimson gaze ignite and burn bright. "See you soon, kid." He says solemnly.
There are no words meaningful enough to convey her fear for him, her adoration, or her love for him. So she leans down from the wagon and wraps him in a crushing embrace, burying her face into his soot-coated shoulder. His breath hitches on a sharp inhale, but he squeezes back once before pushing her away and whirling back into the inferno. She watches him go until the smoke and shadows engulf him completely.
Even in the house, Maka's eyes sting, and she pants hard against the breath-stealing heat.
Tsubaki and Tad had gathered and packed whatever would fit in the wagon. Maka is too stricken to take notice of what is deemed irreplaceable. This house, which had become her home, was in danger of being erased. She stops long enough to grab her gun, Soul's old hat that he had given her, and the locket that had belonged to her mother.
Outside, the wind roars hot and loud, as if from a blast furnace, and the horse that is hitched to the wagon rears in the traces, whistling in fear. Justin tries to settle the frightened horse, but even with his soft words, the horse dances on its haunches.
Maka feels it in her chest as she passes the threshold, that hard emptiness inside her heart at the thought of never seeing this house, the barn, the garden, and the hay meadows again.
Tsubaki opens all the gates wide, letting the horses and what few cows they have in the corral free. Little Chief and his calf companion bolt out the gate, lowing and barking mingled with the sounds of the prairie.
"Shouldn't we take them with us?" Tad asks behind her, watching the two animal companions flee into the brush.
"They're both smart critters. They'll find their way," Maka says gently, her thoughts darkened by the endless what-ifs.
In the distance, the sky smolders like the gates to hell. Tad sidles next to her in the doorway, his gaze also fixed upon the raging brush fire. He slides his hand into hers and squeezes it gently. The gesture is enough to tear her eyes away from the raging destruction. His hand is so small in hers, but she can feel the callouses there. A child with the work-hardened hands of a man. A boy with eyes that now look up at her for guidance. Soul was right. No matter what the fire took, as long as they were all safe, they would be fine. They would rebuild together.
Maka helps Tsubaki and Tad into the wagon, takes up the reins, and doesn't look back.
They head south across the prairie, the fire raging and clawing at their backs. Justin leads them on his leggy grey gelding, picking his way through dry gulches, long stretches of flat grass, and past windswept coulees of trees. The air is hot and choked, the wind swirling in heaving smoke-laced breaks. The sun hangs low in the west, but the light is lost in the clouds of ash and flame.
Justin's pace is urgent but careful as they flee, keeping his eyes sharp on their surroundings. It's like walking through a cloud or a thick wall of ill-smelling dark fog. Tad clings to her arm like her life depends on it, like the howling wind will carry her off if he lets her go. Tsubaki sits behind her in the wagon, her face pinched with worry. She keeps glancing back as if she can see back to where the men still fight the roaring fire. Maka squints her burning eyes ahead as she drives the team forward, she can barely make out Justin's frame silhouetted in the gathering gloom. He suddenly stops, throwing a hand out to signal her to stop. Maka pulls the reins up sharply, stopping the skittish horse.
"What is it?" She calls out, her voice oddly loud in the quiet shroud of smoke. Justin cocks his head, listening. Maka does the same, but she can't hear anything over the rush of wind. Then, she feels it, a faraway rolling that grows and builds until it trembles beneath them.
"Is that.." Tad begins to ask but is cut off by another quake that starts slow and then deepens. The wind, which had been unceasing, shifts, slowing to a whisper, then nothing. It's deathly quiet now, the stillness so sudden that it's unnerving. A great rumble tears above them, and Maka throws her head back to the sky as lighting splits the heavens. The hair on her arms rises, and her blood drums in response.
Could it be?
The sky is so dense with smoke and ruin, but maybe there is more to the churning of black above them than meets the eye. Then she feels it, droplets splatting upon her upturned face.
They are so cold against the fever of her scorched skin she hisses in pain, wondering if she's mistaken fire for water. But she's not mistaken, as it slides down her cheeks and runs like sooty rivers down the column of her neck.
"Holy shit!" Tad crows, his fist pumping the air in triumph. "Thank the Lord," Tsubaki whispers, slumping against the wagon seat, her face pale in relief.
It starts as a drizzle, then the sky above them opens up in all its beauty and wrath, sending great stinging sheets of cold rain.
God bless Texas and its unpredictable weather, which is both savage and unyielding, answering to no man but Mother Nature and her whims.
The smell of charred earth and timber still lingers, but the damp cold now seeping into the soil softens it.
Maka looks at Justin with wide eyes, almost not trusting her senses. Not daring to hope that this was real.
Jusyin throws his head back and laughs up to the sky like it's told him something so unbelievably funny. Tad starts to cackle beside her, his red hair frizzling from the rain. Even Tsubaki unsuccessfully stifles a few giggles. Maka is swept up in the mirth and unexpected joy and joins in the laughter. They are quite the picture, all standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, hands and face smeared black, laughing their heads off.
Justin leans forward in his saddle and grins at her, dark rivulets of ash running down his face, the rain washing away the smears of soot and all his worries.
Safe. They were all safe now.
There is a deafening crack, then a second. The flash of fire and lightning dangerously close. It's so close that the world tilts around her. Maka looks up at the sky in confusion, then back at Justin, her question dying on her lips. Justin's boyish smile slowly fades, replaced with confusion, like the mysteries of the universe are before him, yet he doesn't know how to unravel them.
A vivid splash of red blooms from his shirt, a sharp contrast to the colorless grey-black world around them. He looks down at that spreading spot of crimson, his face flashing briefly with shock before he slumps backward and topples from his saddle headfirst to the ground.
"Justin!" Maka hoarsely shouts. She fumbles from the wagon and scrambles towards him, the shouts of Tsubaki and Tad sounding distant and detached.
Another deafening crack rings out, exploding the ground before her, sending mud and dirty water spraying in all directions. Maka slams herself against the side of the wagon, the wood biting sharply into her back. Tad stumbles forward like he's drunk on his feet, but he manages to grab the reins before the frightened horse bolts and runs her over.
"Get down!" Maka screams at him as he tugs on the reins. Tsubaki hauls him backward into the wagon bed before another discharge roars overhead. The tree to their right explodes, sending wood to join the falling rain as it hisses around them.
Maka's breath snags, holding on to something jagged inside her chest. Her frantic gaze pierces the coursing rain, the water stinging her smoke-scourged eyes. There, crumpled on the ground, she sees Justin.
She freezes, eyes wide, struggling to comprehend.
Why wasn't Justin getting up?
"No, no, no!" She screams. Her listless thoughts do not keep pace with her thundering pulse. In a daze, she tries to stand, her feet slipping in the growing torrent of mud rising around her ankles.
"Hold it right there, Missy! " a strange booming voice shouts above the storm. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the shadow of a man and the glint of gunmetal through the tempest. She plods on shakey feet towards Justin, the warning bells in her brain strangely hushed as she pushes forward.
"I said stop! Or the next shot has their name on it!" The man's voice shouts angrily. For emphasis, another slug blows a hole in the wagon's side, sending more wooden splinters flying. Maka stumbles to a halt, Tubaki's strangled whimper clearing some of the cotton from her head. She tears her eyes away from Justin, his body lying motionless in the mud. She turns her vengeful gaze to the rain-soaked man emerging from an outcropping of rock.
He wears a red bandana around his face, showing only his cold, mean eyes glitter in the dim light. His silver revolvers flash in the rain as he levels them at the wagon.
"Take whatever you want from the wagon, we don't want no trouble," Tsubaki says firmly, pulling Tad protectively behind her.
The man barks a laugh, no mirth in the sound. "Shut up bitch. It's too late for no trouble." He points his revolver right at Maka's chest, and her breath freezes in her lungs.
"Shoot him, Maka!" Tad bellows, rage and fear laced in his voice. Her fingers twitch at her side, where her borrowed pistol rests against her hip.
"Don't even think about it." The bandit growls.
Maka grits her teeth, not daring to make a move. She had been so stupid. She had lost her head and, with it, the window for fighting back.
She'd never get the shot off in time now. Maybe she could hit the thug, but at what cost? The bandit carries two pistols and possibly has more friends nearby. They're sitting ducks out in the open.
"Shoot him!" Tad shouts again. Maka doesn't make a move for her gun, but she keeps her icy gaze fixed on the man. The man takes a squelching step forward and laughs.
"A right smart girl you are. Knows she can't git me without me blasting a hole in your head first, boy." He taunts. Tad's face pales, but he glares viciously at the man.
"What do you want?" Maka demands as calmly as she can.
"We're here for you, sweetheart." He sneers, taking another step closer. "Our employer, Lord Ragnarok, has paid a pretty penny to fetch you."
Panic swells up inside her at the sound of his name, and it threatens to swallow her whole.
Her fingers fly to her mouth as if to hold the fear inside.
All of this is because of her. She had caused all of this. Her hands begin shaking uncontrollably.
Ragnarok had come for her to fulfill the contract. She had almost escaped his clutches, or so she had carelessly believed. It was a lie she had become comfortable telling herself, though. The price was higher now, the toll on collecting her demanding blood. She had to keep the others safe. Nothing else matters. Maka grinds her teeth as she frantically searches the gumble in mind.
They want her alive. That much is clear to her. Maka juts her chin up, looking the gunman in the eyes. "If I go quietly, swear you won't hurt my friends." She demands.
You're in no position to make demands, little missy." He drawls. He eyes her warily, though, her gun concerning him more than he will admit. "If you go quietly, on my honor, I won't kill them. So how's about it? That's the only deal you're getting, girly." Maka stares at him long and hard, and reluctantly, she unstraps her pistol in a painstakingly slow movement. She didn't trust him, but she had no other option. She wouldn't risk their lives in a full-blown gunfight. The bandit watches her with his beedy gaze. She throws down her gun, and the deepening mud almost swallows it up. "Right smart of you." The man says, shuffling forward to retrieve her pistol. "Maka no!" Tad bellows, lightning cracking loud and hard above them. "Shut it, brat! Or I'll shoot you in the leg right now!" "You swore your word. Not to harm them." Maka seethes out. The icy rain smoldering off her too-hot face.
She can hear the grin in his voice as he says, "I swore on my honor; everyone knows thieves don't have honor. You stupid bitch." He reaches his long limbs down to pick up her pistol and in a split second, Maka knows what she has to do, deep in her bones. As quick as the sucking mud allows, she brings all her weight to one side, swiping her boot into the side of the man's knee. The man howls as he drops, but Maka's not done; she swiftly angles her body in front of him, blocking his line of sight from the wagon. If he was going to shoot, he'd have to hit her first, and that was something she didn't think he would risk doing. Ragnarok needed her alive. She would shield them and give them the chance to run.
The gunman recovers faster than she had anticipated; he lashes out with his gun pointed at her belly. His finger stills on the trigger, the half on his face she can see twisting in rage. She feels the flutter of triumph in her heart, but it's so terribly fleeting.
His fist whistles through the air, connecting with the side of her face, ringing with a sickening crunch. The air squeezes out of her lungs in a ragged rush. She doesn't feel herself falling, but the world tilts, the ground swaying dangerously close as she sinks to her knees.
Somewhere, someone screams. Or maybe the terrible sound is torn from her own throat.
Bright spots fizzle across her eyes, her sight going dark and fuzzy at the edges.
She struggles to concentrate, her head swimming. Everything is fading. The last haunting picture she sees is Justin, silent and still, crumpled on the ground, lying in a rising pool of dirty water and blood.
"Forgive me, Justin," she whispers as the world fades to that quiet void.