Those Poor, Poor Bastards (Dead West Book 1) by Tim Marquitz & J.M. Martin & Kenny Soward

Author:Tim Marquitz & J.M. Martin & Kenny Soward [Marquitz, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ragnarok Publications
Published: 2014-02-18T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Something burned Nina's forehead, and her face was wet with sweat. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember where she was. Her ears still rang from all the gunfire. Darkness, death, and blood were all she remembered. All good reasons to let this moment ride on by and fall back into a stupor.

But her face burned.

Nina opened her eyes to find herself staring directly into the sun. She squinted, catching the fragments of a partially collapsed roof and a bare beam once covered by wooden shingles dividing the gap. Nina pulled her hat down and rubbed her eyes, but couldn't get rid of the sting.

Her mouth tasted like she'd et raw shitbird for breakfast. Between the deaduns beating their rotting selves against their bastion of faith and the arguments between the living, there'd been no peace and she’d slept a might fitful and sometimes not at all.

Speaking of fits, an argument seemed to have started up in No Man’s Land. She heard Strobridge and Manning's voices raised with smatterings from others. Must have been that and the beam of sun on her face that’d woke her. She yawned and frowned as she rubbed her crusty eyes.

“You awake?” Pa said from right next to her.

“Who can sleep?”

Pa cleared his throat and sighed. “Let’s go try’n bridle that ruckus.”

Nina whined and sat up, moving out of the sun. “Who cares what they're jawin' about? Me and you just need to figure out what we're gonna do.”

Pa clicked his tongue. “I hate to say it, but gotta reckon our fates are intertwined like pigs in filth. Ain’t nobody movin’ without flingin’ a little crap our way.”

Nina shook her head and sighed, then sat up and ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth. Red Thunder watched them from the other side of the fire. It was impossible to tell if the Indian was tired, pissed off, or about to break into a war dance. In any case, there was an intensity to his every move, a sort of coiled energy.

Nina stretched her neck, moving her head side to side. “That may be true, but you think when the shit flies anyone will check to see if we’re keepin’ up? They’ll leave us high and dry. Every one of ‘em.”

“Not Mister Manning. He seems a good sort.”

“Pa, neither of us know what the man's gonna do. You taught me that.”

Pa smiled. Nina could see the pride in his eyes. “I did teach you that.”

“We need to make sure we can get to that wheelbarrow when the time comes.”

Pa put his hand on Nina’s shoulder. “What are you going to do then? Roll me uphill? Push my lard ass down a rock-strewn bank and across Maples Crick? No, girl. Comes to that, you leave me behind and go to high ground.”

She glared at him.

“Nina girl, I’ll put a bullet in my own head if I got to, and you won’t have time to shake that pretty head of yours.” Pa took her hand, squeezing hard.

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