Something About - Chapter Five

Faeryn found herself startled awake. She wasn't asleep very
long, the coals of her fire still sent up smoky tendrils into the
night sky. She sat bolt upright on her blanket, her 6 shooter in
hand. There was a sharp crack from back the way she came.
It rang out through the night loud and clear, as the only other
sounds were those of nature. Another sharp crack. It was
what woke Faeryn up, and there was no mistaking the source
of the noise, it was a noise Faeryn had grown very
accustomed to: gunfire.
Faeryn thought she could hear a scream from back in the
town, carried to her by the wind on the clear night maybe. She
thought it was, but there was no way to be sure. She was just
glad she was far enough away from things to maintain her
own safety. For now, anyway. All the same she got up and
kicked dust over the coals of her fire. She knew she wouldn't
be able to go back to sleep though, so she packed up all her
stuff into her backpack.
She sat on the dirty ground with her pack slung over her
shoulder and her gun in hand. She cocked her carefully
trained ear into the depth of the night, hoping for some sound.
She wanted anything to calm the storm of her curiosity, before
it killed her. Curiosity was a dangerous thing to have,
especially in these days. It was much better to let it lie.
Faeryn was not one of those "let it lie" people though, and her
curiosity was eating her inside out.
She got up and made her way softly down the hard pack dirt
road. She was careful of where she put her feet as not to step
on a very inconveniently placed twig or branch. She had no
way of knowing if there was anyone in the group behind her
with as much skill of the track as she had. It was a very rare
thing for anyone after second generation survivors of the
purging of the earth. Faeryn was third generation; her
grandfather was of the first born afterward. She had unusual
skills, skills that got her harassed when she was younger, but
came in handy now.
She didn't regret anything she learned from Ryder, that was
for sure, and especially for her as she sneaked down the dirt
road back toward town. Toward the source of the gunfire and
the possible, yet still questionable, scream. She had her gun
out, and loaded, her finger hovered, with the years of practice,
over the trigger. Her breaths were none more than a whisper.
Faeryn sneaked on the flickering orange light of the fire the
group had lit. They were dead center in town square, the
orange light danced off the old buildings creating strange and
frightening shadows. Faeryn made her way around the
square, behind the circle of store fronts until she was behind
the Edge Of The World. The old garage was still standing
behind there. There were two overturned crates up against the
back of the building, almost like it had only been yesterday
her and Ryder sat there, smoking cigarettes and getting
covered in motor oil. Smiles plastered on their clueless faces.
But she couldn't stop to remember any further, and she had to
brush off the crazy idea. She had suddenly to go inside the
garage and look for the bike. She shook it off and kept going.
She sneaked as silently as the wind through the grass around
the side of the building. The Edge Of The World was the last
building on the north side of the square, and as Faeryn stole
around the side she gained a perfect view of the group she
had come to think of as simply, the Travelers.
They stood in the dusty, swirling wind and cast flickering
shadows on the batwing doors. There were three men, and
two women. Although, by Faeryn's guess, the girls were
caught more than slaves, or captives. They sat covered in the
soft shadow of the benches in the square. The men were
crowded around the fire. Two were standing tall and laughing
heartily, the third was hunkered down with his back to the fire
and his gun on the girls.
Faeryn was trying to process the images she was seeing. Her
eyes focused on certain small details that she could see. For
instance, she couldn't tell from where she saw that hunkered
down gentleman had soft blue eyes, but she could see the
way he swayed slightly, even in his crouch, either with
exhaustion, or drunkenness. She guessed it was the second of
the two options, due to the fact that the two standing men
were as well swaying back and forth like branches in the
wind. They were also speaking loudly to one another and
laughing loudly. Anyone with half a brain in their head would
keep it quiet out here, who knew who else could be watching.
Although, it also occurred to Faeryn that they probably didn't
even have a half a brain between the three of them, even in the
dead of sobriety.
Faeryn crept closer to their little, conspicuous camp. She was
crouched just behind a rotting bench now; she was close
enough that she could smell the smoke off their fire. She
could hear their conversation now too.
The crouching man looked up and behind him to the two
standing/swaying beside the fire. He grunted to them in a
rough, gravelly voice.
"Someone fucking switch with me on watch duty, I need to
piss and unless you want our toys to get away..."
"Your turn Brian," laughed standing man number one, he was
wearing a cowboy hat, "I relieved the watch last time."
"Yah, you relieved yourself alright," laughed Brian, "You
relieved the hell outta your sexual frustrations, I guess I could
take a turn."
The crouching man looked up again, his shadowed face livid
in frustration, "I don't care who does what as long as
someone is watching the girls, I'm about to piss my pants."
He stood up from his perpetual crouch, his bones cracked
loudly. He walked off in Faeryn's direction. She gathered
herself together in preparation for what might happen as the
crouching man came toward her. She had her 6 shooter in
hand.
The other two men were busy dragging the girls out of the
shadows into the light of the fire, both of them were grunting
loudly with the effort. The girls were putting up quite the fight.
But they were still no match for the two drunken men. As the
girls were pulled roughly from their bench one of them let
loose a sharp cry.
As they were pulled into the light, Faeryn recognized one of
them. Faeryn cocked back her gun, and fired.

By Brittney Tracey