HOME | DD

Description

“What is it Peyt? Is it them?” Matty asked, his voice high and thin with fear and exhaustion. God it grated on her nerves when he was like that. For a moment she considered telling him the truth. A simple, ‘Hey kid, we’re completely fucked’ would probably suffice. He was old enough, he’d get it. No point in mincing words.

Peyton lowered the ancient binoculars, took a breath, and bit down on the inside of her lip, hard.

“It’s nothing. Just dust is all. ” She lied and spat into the dust, resolutely turning her back to the horizon.

There were five horsemen by her count, all probably heavily armed, and she with naught but a rusty rifle and three bullets. Not exactly the most promising odds.

The mountains were still at least five days trek away, and before them lay a featureless nothing of cracked earth, rocks and sand scorpions. This place had to be the most godforsaken shit-hole she had ever encountered, and Peyton had been places aplenty, yes Sir, so she knew what she was talking about.

Peyton looked over to where Matty stood anxiously gnawing on his fingernails, and suppressed a weary sigh. The child was just full of bad habits.

“Oi!” She batted his hand away from his mouth, looking stern.

“Earlier on I saw some rock formations a few miles north, might be they could give us some cover so we’re going to bed down there for the night. Can even light a fire, if you want.”

She felt awkward saying it. She didn’t do kindness, kindness was not her thing. But on occasion she tried to be gentle, for the kid.

Matty’s face lit up just as she’d known it would. After weeks on the road with only their threadbare blankets for warmth a fire would be heaven. Normally it would have been out of the question, but the hard-men knew exactly where they were so there was no use hiding out.

“Really, Peyton?! That’d be great.” He said, beaming like an idiot.

“Yes. Really.” She said, and hitched her pack higher on her shoulders, careful to hide her smile.

Last light was falling just as they reached the first stone. The rest of the formations spread out before them in a rough circular pattern, some were no higher than her shoulder, others upwards of ten feet high. They were an aberration in the landscape, hunching out of the dirt like twisted giants, their faces raised to the sky in a silent plea. Peyton picked one that had a nicely hollowed out space beneath it and a good view of the southern approach.

There was no wood around for the fire, so they made do with stones.

Without needing to be told Matty started clearing a space for the fire, and Peyton pulled out the bit of precious Pyre-rock she still had in her pack, carefully removing it from its padded canister and cupping its small heat in her palms.

They gathered up scattered stones from the surrounding area, and once they had enough Peyton placed the Pyre-rock in the centre of the makeshift pit and smashed it with the butt of the rifle. A few sound blows and the flammable geode split into glowing segments like a strange pitted orange, and within seconds the small rocks beneath it had started to burn with a fierce heat.

She shut her eyes and paused to warm her hands on the fire. If the riders didn’t stop for the night they’d reach the makeshift camp by mid-morning, maybe sooner.

After supper Matty curled up beside the fire, and Peyton set her back against the rock, resting the rifle across her knees. She took turns eyeing the dark space in the sky that marked the southern approach and watching Matty sleep. When they came she had to be ready to move fast, it was the only way.

“Peyt! Someone’s coming!”

Shit. She thought, waking with a start. She must have dozed off just before sunrise, because first pale rays of light were already spreading across the desert. The riders were early, they must have ridden through the night.

Lurching upright she went over to her pack and dumped the contents, grabbing anything of potential use and shoving it into Maddy’s bag.

“Here, take it.” She hissed and shoved it towards him.

“No.”

“Yes dammit, you have to take it. Go, run for the mountains, hide, do whatever it takes, you hear?”

“No! I won’t leave you.” He said, and she nearly sobbed with desperation.

“Matty! Look, you aren’t leaving me. You’re running ahead, that’s all, and if there’s a snowballs chance in hell of this succeeding, you’ve got to go now, and go fast. Understand, kid?” Grabbing his shoulder with one hand she pushed the pack against his chest.

God, she thought, don’t let me cry, not now.

He had a stubborn jut to his jaw, for a moment she thought he’d refuse again, but then something inside him subsided and with stooped shoulders he accepted the pack from her and slung it over his back.

Blurting laughter she pulled him into a hug, and pressed a dry kiss upon his forehead.

“Remember, whatever it takes.” She said, and pushed him forwards, spinning back to pick up the gun from where it had fallen. She couldn’t turn around, couldn’t bear to watch him leave. Instead she took a deep breath, in and out, and raised the rifle to her shoulder, drawing a bead on the first rider that came into focus.

They were still a little ways out of range, but it wouldn’t be long.

She wasn’t greedy, she didn’t ask for much. There were three bullets, three shots, and if there was a god, or luck, or fate, or fuck all out there listening to her, she prayed it would hear her now. She prayed that she might make three.

After that, it would be up to the kid.

Description

“What is it Peyt? Is it them?” Matty asked, his voice high and thin with fear and exhaustion. God it grated on her nerves when he was like that. For a moment she considered telling him the truth. A simple, ‘Hey kid, we’re completely fucked’ would probably suffice. He was old enough, he’d get it. No point in mincing words.

Peyton lowered the ancient binoculars, took a breath, and bit down on the inside of her lip, hard.

“It’s nothing. Just dust is all. ” She lied and spat into the dust, resolutely turning her back to the horizon.

There were five horsemen by her count, all probably heavily armed, and she with naught but a rusty rifle and three bullets. Not exactly the most promising odds.

The mountains were still at least five days trek away, and before them lay a featureless nothing of cracked earth, rocks and sand scorpions. This place had to be the most godforsaken shit-hole she had ever encountered, and Peyton had been places aplenty, yes Sir, so she knew what she was talking about.

Peyton looked over to where Matty stood anxiously gnawing on his fingernails, and suppressed a weary sigh. The child was just full of bad habits.

“Oi!” She batted his hand away from his mouth, looking stern.

“Earlier on I saw some rock formations a few miles north, might be they could give us some cover so we’re going to bed down there for the night. Can even light a fire, if you want.”

She felt awkward saying it. She didn’t do kindness, kindness was not her thing. But on occasion she tried to be gentle, for the kid.

Matty’s face lit up just as she’d known it would. After weeks on the road with only their threadbare blankets for warmth a fire would be heaven. Normally it would have been out of the question, but the hard-men knew exactly where they were so there was no use hiding out.

“Really, Peyton?! That’d be great.” He said, beaming like an idiot.

“Yes. Really.” She said, and hitched her pack higher on her shoulders, careful to hide her smile.

Last light was falling just as they reached the first stone. The rest of the formations spread out before them in a rough circular pattern, some were no higher than her shoulder, others upwards of ten feet high. They were an aberration in the landscape, hunching out of the dirt like twisted giants, their faces raised to the sky in a silent plea. Peyton picked one that had a nicely hollowed out space beneath it and a good view of the southern approach.

There was no wood around for the fire, so they made do with stones.

Without needing to be told Matty started clearing a space for the fire, and Peyton pulled out the bit of precious Pyre-rock she still had in her pack, carefully removing it from its padded canister and cupping its small heat in her palms.

They gathered up scattered stones from the surrounding area, and once they had enough Peyton placed the Pyre-rock in the centre of the makeshift pit and smashed it with the butt of the rifle. A few sound blows and the flammable geode split into glowing segments like a strange pitted orange, and within seconds the small rocks beneath it had started to burn with a fierce heat.

She shut her eyes and paused to warm her hands on the fire. If the riders didn’t stop for the night they’d reach the makeshift camp by mid-morning, maybe sooner.

After supper Matty curled up beside the fire, and Peyton set her back against the rock, resting the rifle across her knees. She took turns eyeing the dark space in the sky that marked the southern approach and watching Matty sleep. When they came she had to be ready to move fast, it was the only way.

“Peyt! Someone’s coming!”

Shit. She thought, waking with a start. She must have dozed off just before sunrise, because first pale rays of light were already spreading across the desert. The riders were early, they must have ridden through the night.

Lurching upright she went over to her pack and dumped the contents, grabbing anything of potential use and shoving it into Maddy’s bag.

“Here, take it.” She hissed and shoved it towards him.

“No.”

“Yes dammit, you have to take it. Go, run for the mountains, hide, do whatever it takes, you hear?”

“No! I won’t leave you.” He said, and she nearly sobbed with desperation.

“Matty! Look, you aren’t leaving me. You’re running ahead, that’s all, and if there’s a snowballs chance in hell of this succeeding, you’ve got to go now, and go fast. Understand, kid?” Grabbing his shoulder with one hand she pushed the pack against his chest.

God, she thought, don’t let me cry, not now.

He had a stubborn jut to his jaw, for a moment she thought he’d refuse again, but then something inside him subsided and with stooped shoulders he accepted the pack from her and slung it over his back.

Blurting laughter she pulled him into a hug, and pressed a dry kiss upon his forehead.

“Remember, whatever it takes.” She said, and pushed him forwards, spinning back to pick up the gun from where it had fallen. She couldn’t turn around, couldn’t bear to watch him leave. Instead she took a deep breath, in and out, and raised the rifle to her shoulder, drawing a bead on the first rider that came into focus.

They were still a little ways out of range, but it wouldn’t be long.

She wasn’t greedy, she didn’t ask for much. There were three bullets, three shots, and if there was a god, or luck, or fate, or fuck all out there listening to her, she prayed it would hear her now. She prayed that she might make three.

After that, it would be up to the kid.