Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Bender by Diego Candia. 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.
Bender pulled Swagman to a stop and sat staring down at the river from the sheltering crags of the stone outcrops. I don't know who's out here. I could be riding into... He took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. Getting myself killed, fair buggering dinkum. But then, I'd deserve it, yeah? Regret jabbed at him again, tormenting the raw wound in his soul. You can get away from a lot of things, mate. You can get away from the world and even the sky. But you can't get away from yourself. He let the pain twist inside him, accepting it like a penance before shoving it to the back of his mind and paying attention to the job before him. You're a sheep shagging fool.
The mid-morning sun left shrinking shadows across the wild landscape, and the cool breath of the day was warming. He forced his mind to clear, to focus. Jesse should have shown back up by now. Where the bugger is he? He was right here! Did he get lost?
He didn't know what he'd find as he threaded his way carefully down through the jagged terrain, down to where the sluicing waterfall sent a fine, icy mist sparkling into the chilly air. Jesse somehow made it to the bottom in one piece...Galloway might've as well. His hand rested on the pistol at his hip and he wondered if he'd actually use it to defend himself if he had to. The agony of his guilt was making him irrational, reckless. He glanced around for movement, keeping close to the rocks. Galloway may well have gotten to him. He drew in a sharp breath, turning the possibility over in his mind. Bugger me, he could be dead.
"Jesse!" he yelled through cupped hands, hoping that his voice might carry over the clatter of water roaring over rocks. The thought of going back to Miss Lil without him, of seeing her face when he told her that her brother was dead was unbearable. He didn't have the strength for it now. "Jesse! Mate!" The spray of silvery vapor suspended in the air flickered with the ghosts of rainbows. Bender craned his neck, shaking his head at the terrifying fall Jesse had survived, seemingly unscathed. Struth. That must have been some dive. "Jesse!"
Clicking his tongue, he directed Swagman to a flat, sandy shoal and slid from the saddle. He quickly scanned the banks to either side of the river, sniffing as the musty sourness of damp, charred wood and burnt pinion teased his nostrils.
Across the water, a blackened scar marred the pale sand of the riverbank. It had been kicked apart and scattered, but black chips of char lay jumbled in the unmistakable pattern of a recent fire. Bender stepped closer to the water and stared. "He came up on the wrong bloody side of the water," he breathed, thinking, his mind darkening with the implication of this piece of news. If he tried to cross here...no. Surely that's not what he would have done. He would know better. He might be crazy, but he's not stupid. He must've headed downstream after building that fire to warm up.
On one hand, Bender was glad to see the fire scar. It meant that Jess had at least managed to get a fire going and probably used it to warm up before going on. On the other hand, Bender thought grimly, it's cold at night. And he was soaked. He walked back to Swagman.
"Let's go, old governor," he muttered as he swung himself back into the saddle, wincing as the deeply bruised rent in his hide under his arm pinched and pulled. "Let's figure out where he crossed over. If he ever did."
Swagman's heavy feet were steady and reliable as he made his way through the green tangles of the riverbank. Bender reached down unconsciously and patted the horse's sturdy brown neck.
The river widened, breaking up into fast-moving creeks as it split and sprawled itself across the thirsty landscape. The sound of the water grew louder, becoming a loud hiss as it sped up over the rocks. Swagman slowed down, stepping carefully along the edges.
"Right there, mate." Bender rode towards the section of the water just beyond, where the water calmed and he could hear the hissing of a rapid somewhere ahead, just beyond the still area. The water was much shallower here. If I were Jesse, and I'd made it this far, this wouldn't be a bad place to cross.
His heart squeezed hard in his chest and he felt the breath leave his lungs. "No," he groaned, giving Swagman a firm nudge into the water. There was a pale, blond form lying face down and half submerged against the low rocks at the far end of the glassy black water. "Oh...mate..." He rode Swagman alongside and slipped quickly from the saddle, his worst fears confirmed. It was too much. He barely felt the icy shock of the cold water filling his boots and soaking his calves and he reached down and grabbed the limp corpse by the shoulder and turned him over.
Richard Galloway's sightless eyes stared at him from a dead face the color of ash. Bender nearly deflated with short-lived relief, his mouth falling open in surprise and growing horror as he realized what he was seeing. The corpse had been partially scalped.
"Bugger me with a broomstick," Bender breathed heavily, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand. "This ain't good."
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