I don’t know why I’m even explaining it…
Jude’s smile widens, holding my gaze.
“So, I’m guessing you’re not here just to say hi,” Jess says, as if sensing I was a heartbeat away from launching myself at him and cooking his brain in his skull with my electricity.
“One of their aero engines is missing a blade,” provides Margaret. “Bullet impact, judging by the damage.”
She must have noticed it when we landed in the courtyard.
“Courtesy of theHighwaymen,” Jude says.
“They’re still looking for you?” Jess asks.
He shrugs. “I don’t think they’ll ever stop. But this time they didn’t know it was me. They were aiming at the King’s men. We just happened to stand in the middle.”
So, he has beef with theHighwaymen, too. Why doesn’t it surprise me?
“It’s a fairly easy repair,” Margaret says. “It won’t take long. But I—” She stops talking abruptly, and tilts her head, listening. “Hide, now,” she orders.
There is noise coming from outside.
I drop to my knees as Jess urges me to crawl under the table. Jude tries to hide behind a shelf, but too late. A man enters the room, holding a gun. He’s squat, in his late thirties, with dirty ginger hair and a beard.
“Oh, look who’s here,” says the newcomer, smiling at Jude. “My fucking little brother.”
Two more men and a woman enter. They have the look of hardened but healthy travelers. The red patches sewn into their clothes are enough of an explanation. They’reHighwaymen.
And I recall that the group of aggressive nomads are led by a family of six brothers and sisters. Redheads, all of them. I’ve had skirmishes with one or two during my time in the wastelands.
Jude’s family, apparently.
“Malcolm, you don’t raise a gun in my house!” bellows Margaret.
The Highwayman, Malcom, retorts, “I do as I fucking please, Mag. Now, you should have called me as soon as my weasel of a brother came back. You know I’ve missed him very much.” A few of his front teeth are broken and his smile looks disturbing.
Jude’s eyes are glued on the gun aimed at his forehead.
There is a lot to unpack here, and it gives me a headache.
I rise to my feet slowly from the half-crouch I’ve been in since they entered. The woman—a dirty-looking thing with a shaved head and piercings—walks to me and kicks the back of my knees without warning. I fall to the floor hard and taste blood as I bite my tongue. I see red.
“Do you know, little Judy,” continues Malcolm, “that mom and dad are dead?” From the shock registering on Jude’s face, I don’t think he knew. “Which means no one will care if I shoot a bullet straight through your pretty face. Oh, I’ve been dreaming about it for years…” He nudges Jude’s nose with the gun. “The others will be so jealous that I’m the one who got so lucky.”
I should be enjoying this. If he shoots Jude, my number one problem is gone. They might kill me after, but I would die knowing the little fucker was dead.
I share a glance with Jess from where I’m lying on the floor.
She moves closer to Malcolm and starts talking. “Come on now, boys. You’re family. Isn’t it past time you stopped hating each other so much?”
While they are all distracted by her pleading gestures, I crawl closer.
“Over my dead body,” says Jude.
“That can be arranged…” his brother says.
And right as his finger is about to pull the trigger, I get a hold of his naked leg, just above his boot. I let the little electricity I’ve been building up cross over from my body to his. It might be a small percentage of what I usually have in store, but it’s more than enough to kill a man.
The gunshot echoes in the room, the bullet flying close to Jude’s face. Margaret and Jess act before theHighwaymenhave time to understand what is happening. Jess uses one of her kitchen knives that had been laying on the kitchen counter to slice two throats, while Margaret crushes the last one’s skull with a monkey wrench that somehow ended up in her hand. Those two women didn’t survive this long in the new world for no reason.
