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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun: Past Sins

Chapter 37


Cody felt the woman fly into him, throwing her weight against his body and driving the two of them out the door of the stage. Cody landed hard on his back, the air momentarily driven from his lungs. The impact had knocked his precious Colt from his hand when the woman, Eva, landed on top of him. She was not a large woman, but she was strong. He felt her shapely curves as she writhed for position, never belittling the hardened muscle underneath her the form fitting clothes. He tasted blood as she smashed her fist into his jaw, screaming at him. If this old maid didn't have such a stick up her ass, he might even have enjoyed this.


The momentary impact passed and Cody managed to find a small measure of breath. He grinned, blood trickling from the cut on his lip as he used his now free right hand to force it into Eva's face. His left hand grabbed at her right, blocking it from landing another free blow as he brought his knee up between her legs. He bucked his knee twice in fast succession between her legs, admittedly not as effective a move against a girl than some other bastard, but he outweighed her by a good hundred pounds and the sheer force behind it helped to dislodge her from his chest. He could hear her grunt in pain as the impact of his knee reverberated up her spine.

With her weight shifted, Cody moved his right hand away from her face, where he had been pushing her away, and brought a hard slap across her face. His first instinct had been to hit her, and hard, for laying her hands on him, but his peripheral senses had kicked in and he'd noticed the other members of her group joining the fray. That fat stage driver had pulled his rifle and the old man had his pistol out as well. Even that foppish dandy that fancied himself a gunman had his gleaming sidearm out. Despite his natural instinct, Cody knew that if he really hurt this bitch there was no way he'd get out of this alive. Still, the slap had felt good and he made a mental note to continue this line of action later. No one treated Cody Jarrett this way, especially not some uppity bitch.

The slap had jogged Eva to the side and with his leg free he used his boot to kick her off of him. He rolled to his right, coming up by his gun, which his hand hovered over quickly, before coming to his feet, his arms raised in submission. Eva, her face red from the slap, roared to life and tried to take another swing at him until the dandy, Thomas, pulled her back, away from him. Her arms and legs flew out as she screamed obscenities at him.


Cody wiped the blood from his lip and looked at it briefly, before sliding an oily smile across his face. His eyes never left the rifle trained on him by the stage driver, nor the pistol from the old cripple in the stage door as he spoke.

'Listen...listen... I acted rashly, I see that now. It's just that your friend was infected. I've seen that kinda wound before, the pus, the black seepage, it's the sign that he's about to turn into one of those fuckin' creatures. I watched two of my best friends succumb to that fate, if he'd have turned in that cart then he'd have infected all of you. I didn't want that to happen. So I acted. I realize now I should have said something, but I didn't want to take the chance. I'm...I'm sorry."

He noticed the fat driver, Bartley, lower his rifle and the old man's gun started to waver, and he knew he was nearly in the clear. He turned his attention to Eva, who was still fuming with anger, trails of tears running down the dirt on her  face as she sneered at him. He hated biting his tongue, especially to this cow, but this wasn't the time or the place, not with Desperation so close, not with freedom at hand. Besides, he could see that Bartley and the old man could see his line of thinking, hell even that fop Moore had holstered his gun.

"Eva... my dear, I acted rashly. I left my fear govern my thoughts. I didn't think about what this man must have meant to you. I only feared that he would turn. that what had happened to me would happen to you."

Eva sneered at him as she shucked off Moore, throwing him to the side. Her face was mixed with disgust and anger as she glared at him. It was the old man who spoke first though, breaking the tension.

"Listen...Mr. Johnson, you an travel with us until we reach town. Then I think its best for all of us... if you made your own way. I'm sure you understand."

He nodded to Eva, who climbed into the cab with him with Moore, but not before giving him a final look of derision. Moore followed them and the three started to wrap Rex in a blanket. Bartley gave him a final look and started to haul his fat ass up to the drivers seat and Cody turned his back, walking over to where he'd left his saddle bags. He checked the load on his scatter gun again and shouldered it as he patted down the prized contents of his bags. Cody cast a last look over the cliff ledge, down into the valley of death, at the grim lights of Desperation in the distance. The valley teamed with undead, getting across the flats wouldn't be easy, even with the extra guns these damnable fools offered. He shouldered his gear and turned his eyes back to the. A slow smile crept to his bloody lip and suddenly he knew just what to do. He just figured out the perfect distraction.

End of Line.

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