The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

188: Fallacy and Conceit

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta.  All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

Hester sat up straighter when she heard the footfalls coming towards her from behind the stalagmite, long yellow shadows flowing past her as someone...probably Aussie...approached.

"I brought you something to eat," the Australian said gruffly as he stepped around the column and held up a lantern in front of her. "And I should take a look at that hand."

She recoiled, squinting her bruised eyes at him. Her shoulders ached from her arms being bound behind the stone column, and her mangled hand throbbed with pain. Several hours ago, he'd hastily staunched the bleeding and tied on a crude bandage before securing her there, so she supposed it might be at least marginally lucky that her aim had been off and she hadn't succeeded in killing him. Still, he looks terrible. He's going to fall over any minute. He's barely on his feet.

"So," she murmured sarcastically. "Things didn't work out with the little mouse, so you're here to get friendly with me, is that it?"

A scowl broke across his bruised, exhausted face. "You would think that, wouldn't you, love?" He shook his head. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm only here so I can face myself in the morning, yeah?"

"Where's Richard?"

He stopped, flinching slightly, compassion softening his expression. "Miss Lovelace...he went over the falls. He's most likely..."

"Dead?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Probably. I'm sorry."

From the beginning, Hester knew she'd been planning on discarding Richard as soon as he stopped being useful. She didn't expect to feel any remorse about it. Still, a tiny twinge of regret twisted inside her. It wasn't much, but she knew Aussie would expect her to be far more upset than she was. She could tell by his face and his tone that he hadn't wanted to tell her this.

"Oh," she whispered, turning her face away from him as best she could.

"Yeah. I don't...I don't think he suffered. Pretty sure it was quick. Look," he said, stooping down to her level. "Why don't you eat something, and..."

"With my hands tied? You gonna feed me?"

"No. You need to listen very carefully. I'm going to untie you long enough to clean up your hand and let you eat. Then I'm tying you back up. And if you try anything stupid, I'm going to shoot you dead. And that, love, is the fair dinkum oil."

"I'm not going to try anything," she muttered, letting her voice break. "I'm done. It's over."

Bender shifted behind her and untied her, gently gripping her injured wrist as he slid back around to face her. She looked him over as he worked, taking in the bruises on his scruffily handsome face and the ragged cuts and scrapes on his callused hands. He was favoring slightly on one side, as if he was in pain. His eyes were bloodshot, dark-circled and drained.

"So...Aussie..." She remembered the damaged coat he'd worn when he first tied her here, the seam under his arm torn apart and streaked with blood. "That shot hit you?"

He stopped what he was doing and gave her a brief glance before going back to work on her hand. "Yeah. You cut me up pretty good, thanks."

"I'm sorry about that." She frowned, grimacing as he picked sand out of her wound. "I shot you and here you are being kind to me. So...thank you."

"All you had to do was tell Miss Lil what was going on from the start." Bender frowned, reaching for his bag and shaking it open. "We could have avoided all this bollocks." He uncorked a bottle of whiskey with his teeth. "You didn't have to shoot anybody. All this is buggering insane."

"Ow!" She flinched, jerking her arm in pain as he splashed the icy alcohol onto her injuries. Her free hand clenched deeply into the sand and she stiffened against the rock behind her.

"Sorry," he grunted, deftly binding her hand with fresh bandages.

He's done this before... And he's awfully well prepared. Hester kept her expression neutral, watching his adept fingers. If he's not a doctor...he's damn close to it. "Thank you," she said, hauling herself haltingly to her feet, flexing her stiff legs. "That's uncomfortable."

"Saint thought so, too, when you did it to him."

"Fair enough," she said, rubbing her aching tailbone with her clenched fist and peering at the pistol he had trained on her. "I'll see you, Aussie." She stepped quickly away from him before he could grab her and started towards the cavern entrance.

She heard the pistol cock and she froze.

"Miss Lovelace," he said, his voice flat and icy. "You shot me. You buggering well nearly killed Bari and Miss Lil. Do you think I won't..."

"Shoot an unarmed woman in the back?" She smiled broadly over her shoulder. "Naw. Not you, Aussie." I know firsthand how crippling this is...She flung the handful of sand she was gripping into his face as hard as she could and broke into a run. Thanks for the tip, Gorgeous. It was the only smart thing I've seen you do.

"Bugger!" She heard him cursing and spitting sand behind her, his boots slipping on the wet stone in the corridor as he stumbled after her. "Hester, damn you!" He regained his footing and bolted, close behind. "Miss Lil, wake up!" he howled as he ran. "Hester!"

She dodged through the deepening shadows, carefully avoiding the voids and dips she knew were in the floor. He'll fall and break a leg before he goes twenty feet.

She pelted deftly through the tunnel, hearing his footfalls echoing behind her. No way he's catching up. Not in the kind of shape he's in. She headed straight for the locked grate she knew was just ahead, her hand out before her in the dark in case it was closer than she thought.

Her thumb caught on a sharp metal slat, jerking her hand back. She cried out in pain, swinging herself around the end of the grate and shoving herself through the gap.

"Hester!" he howled, and she heard him slam hard into the rattling obstacle. "I can't have you running loose! I can't! For God's sake don't make me shoot you! Hester!"

Breathless, she bolted ahead, something in his voice striking fear into her. She hadn't been afraid of him when he was angry and cold. Now, there was a pleading tone in his voice, a desperation that chilled her blood. I should have gone for his gun. I might have gotten it. And he'd be dead and I wouldn't be running. Time slowed down, the darkness billowing around her like heavy water, and the click of the hammer was nearly deafening. She dove against the corridor wall and the world exploded in a terrifying Hell of gunshots, muzzle flashes, and agony.

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