Darkness upon the Land

Reuben immediately stepped to the window and watched the dog. Henry was looking toward the driveway, and the Brittany barked one more time before he slinked toward the back of the house while glancing over his shoulder a few times.

The wait was over.

He tightened his grip on the rifle that had been with him most of the day. “Stay with Liana,” he told Alexia again while heading for the bedroom door. “Aim for the eyes.”

As he headed toward the back door of the house he considered her expression each time he told her that. She had never really killed anything beyond swatting flies. Even on butchering days she only helped with the cleaning and dressing. Her proclivity for nurturing wasn’t his main concern, however. This situation could give her an outburst that could take her out of action even faster.

Whoever was arriving would have at least one firearm, and he didn’t want to draw any gunfire toward the house, especially with Liana and Alexia in there. But when he slipped out the back door of the kitchen, he stepped to the outside corner and briefly scanned the yard. Not only could he hear voices, but he spied two men rounding the bend of the road.

Once they cleared the trees he was able to make them out enough to realize he’d never seen them before. Both appeared to be in their mid-twenties or so, and both leaned toward the portly side. The fellow with dark brown hair was taller and even heavier than the guy with light brown hair. Either way, they were both big guys. Reuben suspected they would be worse to tangle with than the thugs in Baton Rouge.

He was a little surprised to see there were only two. Generally he thought of a mob mentality as needing at least three participants. Two dogs that put their heads together couldn’t come up with a thought between them, but add a third mutt and suddenly an efficient pack could arise. He noticed the discussion the pair was having seemed to be a bit of an argument, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The intruders weren’t exactly empty handed, either. Both men had gear bags similar to his, and except for the empty cloth shopping bags hanging from their shoulders could appear like any other travelers still trying to reach an important destination. Reuben took no comfort in the fact he couldn’t see any weapons.

He felt his heart begin pounding in his chest as he raised the rifle and aimed at the invaders. This had to be done. He had the maximum capacity of six cartridges loaded in the firearm. He drew a deep breath and wished force of will could make his heart stop beating so violently. As they drew closer, he refused to think about the fact he kept the bead on the barrel pointing straight at the knees of the guy on his left. But he did begin to make out what they were saying.

“...said it was up to us,” remarked the fellow on the left with the dark brown hair and stubble. “Makes no difference if she’s dead or alive.”

“Well, anyways, I kinda hope she ain’t,” replied the guy on the right with the light brown hair and stubble. As he broke into a grin, Reuben noticed it just enough to feel an impulse to change which interloper he was going to shoot first. “It’d sure be a shame to let a woman like her go to waste.”

Lefty referred to his partner in uncreative language that was still considered colorful as he commented, “That’s why if she’s dead you get to be the one to haul her off.”

“You know you shouldn’t have shot her, man. And not just because of the fringe benefits.”

Reuben decided to stick to his original target.

They were halfway across the yard when he squeezed off the first shot. Lefty howled as one round hit his right knee just before the second round struck his left knee. As he stumbled to the ground he immediately switched to cursing. His partner added a few choice words as he dropped his gear bag and spun around to run in the direction they’d just come. Reuben fired again.

But luck was with the invader who continued to gallop unscathed toward the road. Realizing he couldn’t take the chance of missing another shot, he sprinted after the fugitive.

Lefty grabbed for the bag he had dropped when he fell. Reuben immediately slammed to a halt just yards from the attacker and barely bothered to aim as he threw the .223 back up to his shoulder. At that range it was practically impossible for him to miss. On the ninety percent chance that Lefty wasn’t one, he shot the man in the right shoulder.

Screaming and cursing rang in his ears as he sprang back into his pursuit of the fleer. Lucky had a head start, but Reuben was faster. By the time the invader had rounded the curve of the road, Reuben overtook him. He slammed to a halt again, swung up his rifle, and shot just under the back of Lucky’s left knee.

The man screamed as he hit the ground with a thump that seemed incredibly loud. As he grabbed at his knee, Reuben tried to take aim for his arms.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off!” He barked as Lucky started trying to scramble to his feet.

The crook looked back and froze in a half crouched, half lying down position. He proceeded to wail and moan and blubber that he hadn’t done anything, although there was no shortage of four-letter words in his plea. Lucky’s hands were wrapped around his left knee and blood oozed freely from between his fingers.

“Now listen to me and listen tight, you lousy bon rien!” Reuben snapped. “You’re gonna head back up to that house and you will not give me any trouble!”

Lucky wailed again, “I can’t walk!” Then he insisted Reuben indulged in indiscriminate carnal relations and added the reason why.

“You’ll crawl if you can’t walk!” He retorted. “And if you don’t get moving I’ll see to it you never walk again!”

At first Lucky started to protest, but as his gaze settled on Reuben’s face he suddenly became less spastic and more wary. Still swearing as he whined acquiescence, the bulky invader staggered to his good leg while continuing to grasp his wounded knee.

“Where’s the rest of the guns?” Reuben snapped.

Still bent over, Lucky glared up at him. “What guns?” And he added more assumptions about Reuben’s conjugal activities.

“There were three rifles, two shotguns, and two pistols kept here. What’d you do with them?”

Lucky insisted he didn’t know anything about any guns that he apparently assumed could also participate in coital relations.

“Then shut up and get moving! We’ll just go ask what’s left of your buddy!”

Cursing with every step, Lucky managed to shuffle and limp toward the house while Reuben followed him. The malefactor had to proceed stooped over, and it seemed the bright red blood that flowed from between his fingers as he continued to grasp his knee increased slightly in volume. Reuben was glad he had instructed Alexia to set out a stack of clean rags in the living room.

They rounded the bend of the driveway and just cleared the stand of trees when Lucky suddenly swore with more enthusiasm and staggered to one side. Reuben followed his cue and dodged in the same direction.

Lefty, still sitting on the ground and his right arm dangling uselessly at his side, raised his pistol and fired.

Reuben was down to his last shot, so he didn’t squeeze off another round even though the rifle was already in position and he heard a high-pitched whine pass his left ear. The next shot from the pistol seemed to go wild, but as both he and Lucky ducked toward the trees, Lefty took a third shot.

Lucky stumbled and dropped to the ground, landing in an even more crumpled heap than he did earlier on the road. Although Reuben reached a tree to duck behind, he knew he wasn’t going to have a chance to reload. He was going to have to take his own advice.

Chips of bark flew off the tree with another report from Lefty’s pistol. Reuben immediately twisted against the live oak and returned fire.

He would have preferred not to have seen the spray of blood that burst from the back of the man’s skull as his head jerked backward. Lefty seemed to freeze for a couple of seconds before he collapsed to the ground in an even more crumpled heap than his partner.

Reuben hesitated as he leaned against the tree and surveyed the scene of destruction before him. There was no question Lefty was dead, but he still wasn’t sure about the other robber. He reached into his pocket and withdrew only one cartridge which he loaded into the rifle without even looking. Then he cautiously approached the fellow who lay on the ground a few yards away.

Lucky’s namesake had run out. He wasn’t dead yet, and even under his shallow breathing the miscreant continued to mumble curses. But Reuben could see the results left by the exit wound of his fellow cur’s bullet. The back of Lucky’s shirt was soaked in blood.

He stared at the side of the man’s face and barely noticed the chill that spread from his chest to his face and stomach and limbs. One man laid dead behind him and another lay dying in front of him, and he was responsible for their condition. He had crossed a line. There was no doubt he could harbor or cherish or hope for this time.

Yet as he stared at the man whose muttering could barely be heard, the rules he had always lived by seemed to become inexplicably blurred. Euthanasia was the same as murder. End of story.

But exactly how long was it going to take this fellow to bleed out and die? Before the world ended, he could have called the sheriff and the ambulance and there might have been a chance to preserve this person’s life. There might still be some kind of aid and comfort he could offer, something to help with the pain, and maybe he could get some of that information he wanted.

But Reuben recalled this perp’s lewd grin as he mentioned not letting a woman like Liana go to waste. The memory of her lying on the table was vivid, and he remembered all the horror and anger when he discovered the extent of her injuries. This brute didn’t deserve to live, and he suddenly noticed that he was pointing the muzzle of his rifle at the fellow’s face.

A cold sweat suddenly popped out his pores immediately before he realized his lunch was coming back up. He managed to take a couple of steps closer to the trees when the first wave of nausea overtook him. The second wave hit a couple of seconds later, and a few more seconds after that the third wave pretty much cleaned him out. Reuben staggered a little because his knees felt weak, and he remained bent over because he wasn’t certain his stomach had finished rebelling.

“It’s over, Rube.” Alexia’s voice was as gentle as the hands she placed on his forehead and shoulder. “This time it’s my turn to take care of you.”