Midnight Jewel
Page 66
“Then they’re lucky we’re around,” Tom said cheerfully. “The burden of justice falls on us.”
“Something tells me your justice is selective. And profitable.”
“A city watch would get paid. Why not us?”
We stopped about a quarter mile from the jail while Lesser Tom—the young, skinny man—scouted ahead. Since his name was Tom too, the “lesser” designation differentiated them. It wasn’t clear to me if Tom or the other men had come up with the addition.
“Jenks was right,” Lesser Tom said, trotting back to us. “More than usual. Six.”
“Six?” said Tom irritably. “You promised me four, Jenks.”
“I didn’t promise you nothing. I just said probably it’d be double.”
Lesser Tom added, “They’re militia. Not soldiers.”
“Well, that’s something,” said Tom. “Now. Tell us everything else you saw.”
Five minutes later, we had a plan and were all moving toward the jail, keeping off the main road. A lamp near the front door showed us what we needed. The rectangular building was barren and rough, with no windows. Two men stood sentry at the front, and each corner was guarded by one man.
We spread out into the positions Tom had designated for us, and anticipation crackled through me as I moved to a dark patch of trees with Elijah. I’d never gone into a planned altercation. Usually they just happened to me. My grip on the dirk was so tight that I had to keep adjusting it so my fingers wouldn’t kink up.
The action started with a gunshot. It was Lesser Tom, firing near one of the guards in the back of the building. Tom had made it very clear he wanted to avoid killing anyone tonight. “The militia is very lenient with us,” he’d explained. “And I want to keep it that way.”
He’d also warned that because the militia were so inconsistently trained, they were likely to react recklessly. At the crack of the gun, all the guards raced off toward the sound’s source—except one. He remained at his post by the front door. Elijah, who was with me, swore. We’d hoped that the guards would all run to the building’s back, where our other three companions were waiting.
“Nothing for it,” said Elijah. “Let’s go. Stay behind me, angled over there. You’re the smaller target—he’ll go for me, but it’s better if you’re still out of the way.”
The militiaman at the door saw us coming and raised his musket. He fired at Elijah, as predicted, but missed. He’d shot too soon with a gun like that. A few more feet would have given him better accuracy. Elijah and I were on the man before he could reload. Elijah knocked him to the ground and kept him pinned. The guard shouted obscenities as I tied his hands and wrists, and I wished we’d brought gags as well as ropes. Just as I finished, I saw the door open behind Elijah.
“Look out!”
Elijah turned as the barrel of a gun poked out. I leapt up and swung my dirk like a club, knocking the gun off-kilter just enough to miss Elijah when it fired. That gave Elijah the opportunity to pry the door open and grab the gun’s owner, another militiaman. Elijah swung him hard into the wall, but the man was stockier and pushed back with his own brute strength. Looking beyond their fight, I spotted yet another guard. Lesser Tom’s scouting had only shown us the outside defense. We hadn’t known for sure what to expect in here.
That second man hadn’t seen me yet. As much as I longed to valiantly wield my dirk, it was Lonzo’s training I used. This guard wasn’t as muscled as the one Elijah fought, but he was taller than me. I darted forward and took him by surprise, slamming my elbow into his face in a move that put me too close for him to shoot. Instead, he immediately tried to strike back by swinging his gun like I had the dirk. His height worked against him. I wasn’t where he expected, which forced him to shift his footing in order to keep his balance as I kept moving erratically. He dropped his weapon and started to go for me with his fists. I used those split seconds to deliver another upward hit, this time to his neck. It lacked precision, but it was efficient. The man let out a small cry and staggered backward. I snatched up the musket and pointed it at him, yelling at him to drop to his knees. I’d never fired a gun before and hoped I could bluff convincingly.
Apparently I could. He obeyed, and I heard a great laugh behind me. “Look at you,” said Elijah. “You didn’t even need me. No wonder you were able to scare off Abernathy’s gang that night.” His combatant was lying on the floor, presumably unconscious. Elijah strolled up to my captive and began tying up his wrists.
“I don’t know that I did that much scaring. But I’m glad to have helped your family.”
Elijah frowned as he finished his work. “They shouldn’t have been in that situation. That whole Abernathy mess was Tom’s arrog—”
A gunshot sounded from outside, and I looked around in alarm. “Should we do something?”
“No,” Elijah said. “That’s their job. Let’s do ours.”
He took the keys from the unconscious man, and we searched the building. It had two corridors splitting off in opposite directions, with ten cells in each. Frightened men and women peered at us through the bars. They’d heard the commotion but had no idea what it meant.
“It’s okay,” I said, as Elijah unlocked the cells. “We’re here to help.” As the prisoners hurried past one by one, something occurred to me. “We don’t know that they’re all Alanzans. We could be freeing hardened criminals.”
“Yup,” Elijah agreed. “But we don’t have time to conduct interviews.”
The last of the prisoners ran out the front door, just as Tom and the others strolled in. He grinned. “Looks like everything worked out.”
“You should’ve seen your girl,” said Elijah. He pushed the man I’d subdued toward one of the cells. “You didn’t tell me she could fight like that.”
“Something tells me your justice is selective. And profitable.”
“A city watch would get paid. Why not us?”
We stopped about a quarter mile from the jail while Lesser Tom—the young, skinny man—scouted ahead. Since his name was Tom too, the “lesser” designation differentiated them. It wasn’t clear to me if Tom or the other men had come up with the addition.
“Jenks was right,” Lesser Tom said, trotting back to us. “More than usual. Six.”
“Six?” said Tom irritably. “You promised me four, Jenks.”
“I didn’t promise you nothing. I just said probably it’d be double.”
Lesser Tom added, “They’re militia. Not soldiers.”
“Well, that’s something,” said Tom. “Now. Tell us everything else you saw.”
Five minutes later, we had a plan and were all moving toward the jail, keeping off the main road. A lamp near the front door showed us what we needed. The rectangular building was barren and rough, with no windows. Two men stood sentry at the front, and each corner was guarded by one man.
We spread out into the positions Tom had designated for us, and anticipation crackled through me as I moved to a dark patch of trees with Elijah. I’d never gone into a planned altercation. Usually they just happened to me. My grip on the dirk was so tight that I had to keep adjusting it so my fingers wouldn’t kink up.
The action started with a gunshot. It was Lesser Tom, firing near one of the guards in the back of the building. Tom had made it very clear he wanted to avoid killing anyone tonight. “The militia is very lenient with us,” he’d explained. “And I want to keep it that way.”
He’d also warned that because the militia were so inconsistently trained, they were likely to react recklessly. At the crack of the gun, all the guards raced off toward the sound’s source—except one. He remained at his post by the front door. Elijah, who was with me, swore. We’d hoped that the guards would all run to the building’s back, where our other three companions were waiting.
“Nothing for it,” said Elijah. “Let’s go. Stay behind me, angled over there. You’re the smaller target—he’ll go for me, but it’s better if you’re still out of the way.”
The militiaman at the door saw us coming and raised his musket. He fired at Elijah, as predicted, but missed. He’d shot too soon with a gun like that. A few more feet would have given him better accuracy. Elijah and I were on the man before he could reload. Elijah knocked him to the ground and kept him pinned. The guard shouted obscenities as I tied his hands and wrists, and I wished we’d brought gags as well as ropes. Just as I finished, I saw the door open behind Elijah.
“Look out!”
Elijah turned as the barrel of a gun poked out. I leapt up and swung my dirk like a club, knocking the gun off-kilter just enough to miss Elijah when it fired. That gave Elijah the opportunity to pry the door open and grab the gun’s owner, another militiaman. Elijah swung him hard into the wall, but the man was stockier and pushed back with his own brute strength. Looking beyond their fight, I spotted yet another guard. Lesser Tom’s scouting had only shown us the outside defense. We hadn’t known for sure what to expect in here.
That second man hadn’t seen me yet. As much as I longed to valiantly wield my dirk, it was Lonzo’s training I used. This guard wasn’t as muscled as the one Elijah fought, but he was taller than me. I darted forward and took him by surprise, slamming my elbow into his face in a move that put me too close for him to shoot. Instead, he immediately tried to strike back by swinging his gun like I had the dirk. His height worked against him. I wasn’t where he expected, which forced him to shift his footing in order to keep his balance as I kept moving erratically. He dropped his weapon and started to go for me with his fists. I used those split seconds to deliver another upward hit, this time to his neck. It lacked precision, but it was efficient. The man let out a small cry and staggered backward. I snatched up the musket and pointed it at him, yelling at him to drop to his knees. I’d never fired a gun before and hoped I could bluff convincingly.
Apparently I could. He obeyed, and I heard a great laugh behind me. “Look at you,” said Elijah. “You didn’t even need me. No wonder you were able to scare off Abernathy’s gang that night.” His combatant was lying on the floor, presumably unconscious. Elijah strolled up to my captive and began tying up his wrists.
“I don’t know that I did that much scaring. But I’m glad to have helped your family.”
Elijah frowned as he finished his work. “They shouldn’t have been in that situation. That whole Abernathy mess was Tom’s arrog—”
A gunshot sounded from outside, and I looked around in alarm. “Should we do something?”
“No,” Elijah said. “That’s their job. Let’s do ours.”
He took the keys from the unconscious man, and we searched the building. It had two corridors splitting off in opposite directions, with ten cells in each. Frightened men and women peered at us through the bars. They’d heard the commotion but had no idea what it meant.
“It’s okay,” I said, as Elijah unlocked the cells. “We’re here to help.” As the prisoners hurried past one by one, something occurred to me. “We don’t know that they’re all Alanzans. We could be freeing hardened criminals.”
“Yup,” Elijah agreed. “But we don’t have time to conduct interviews.”
The last of the prisoners ran out the front door, just as Tom and the others strolled in. He grinned. “Looks like everything worked out.”
“You should’ve seen your girl,” said Elijah. He pushed the man I’d subdued toward one of the cells. “You didn’t tell me she could fight like that.”
