Chapter Fifteen: I Must Say that You Have My Attention
Rachel's Plantation
Tennessee
April 1887
Rachel swept furiously at the dirt on her porch as sweaty strands of her red hair clung to her cheeks. She shoved those strands back into her bonnet and swiped the sleeve of her white gingham dress across her brow. The world might very well be falling apart but that was no excuse for letting her house fall into disrepair. Her husband, God rest his cheating, unfaithful soul, would be horrified to see the state of this porch.
It wasn't entirely her fault. She'd been rather preoccupied with the chaos going on in the world around her peaceful little plantation. It seemed that every other person in the world other than herself had gone stark raving mad.
She had actually been forced to kill several people that had tried to come into her home and, (the thought was nearly too terrible for a proper lady such as herself to think), had tried to eat her.
Never in her life had Rachel been forced to take the life of another human but as soon as she had seen those demon possessed monsters coming at her with slobbering mouths, bleeding bodies and snapping teeth, she had known it was either she or them, and she hadn't been in any hurry to die.
She had wondered often over the last month since the sickness had first arrived at her plantation home about her family in Georgia. Was the sickness there as well? Had her sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew already fallen victim to these monsters? Or had they themselves become monsters such as the ones she had seen?
She truly hoped not. While she had not seen them in many years, she could remember how beautiful little Evangeline had been and how much of a gentle giant Ox had been turning into. Pity filled her as she thought of Joshua. The boy hadn't gone by that name in nearly twenty years. Ever since it had become clear that his body was going to continue to grow while his brain was not he'd been known as Ox. The only person that had not called him Ox was his mother. Rachel's sister had always insisted that she had given her boy a good name and that was the name she was going to use.
Rachel kept one eye on the surroundings and both ears alert for any sign of those moaning shuffling monsters. They certainly were no good at sneaking and that, at least, was something to be thankful for. That was why when she heard the sound of horse's hooves and the creaking of leather she thought for sure she was hearing things. Dear God, those monsters hadn't mastered horse riding had they?
Quickly she grabbed up the .45-70 buffalo rifle from beside the door and leaned her broom against the wall, fully prepared to shoot whoever was coming should the need arise. Up until these monsters had come Rachel had never killed a soul but now she had killed many and she would kill more in order to ensure she herself remained alive. She was nowhere near ready to die.
"Sure would be a shame if you shot me, ma'am." A man said with amusement in his raspy voice as he rode into view and Rachel was taken aback by his appearance. He was long and lean, maybe even thin though it was hard to tell with his body all wrapped in worn and stained skins the way it was. His dirty blond hair, streaked with white and gray was hanging long around his bearded face and the hat on his head was tattered with a red twine wrapped round it stuffed full of feathers.
"Who are you, sir?" Rachel demanded knowing that in desperate times such as those they lived in now monsters were easily created, and they could take any shape and form. They did not have to simply be of the moaning and flesh eating variety.
He pulled his sleepy looking gray mare to a stop and slid from the saddle before taking his hat in his leathery hands and offering her a broken toothed smile that creased his wrinkled and age spotted face. The man's pale blue eyes sparkled with a good nature that instantly had Rachel feeling more at ease.
"My name is Jedidiah Gray, ma'am, and I don't mean you any harm."
"Forgive me for not welcoming you more openly, sir...." Rachel replied, still unsure if she should put her gun down.
Jedidiah waved his hand. "Nonsense! You can't be too careful in this day and age."
"I'm glad you understand. Is there something you need or are you going to be on your way now? I'm sorry I have no room for you here." Rachel knew the man would know she was lying. Her plantation home was quite large and she was the only person currently living here.
"I was hoping I could wait here, Rachel. I have some friends that will be joining me soon."
Rachel took a step back and her grip on the rifle tightened. "How do you know my name?" she demanded and Jedidiah chuckled. It was a good natured, full bodied chuckle that had a smile wanting to pull at her mouth despite her confusion and uncertainty.
"I know lots of things about lots of things." He replied vaguely. "I don't mean any harm to anyone though. I've just gotta wait here for my friends so we can take a trip together."
Rachel frowned. Was this man crazy? Or was he a member of a gang that planned on taking advantage of her? "Who are your friends?"
"There's quite a few of them, actually." The man replied as he swiped the dirty sleeve of his shirt across his face. "They are all on their way here even if they don't realize this is where they are coming. Ox and Evangeline are coming as well."
"What... How... How do you know Evangeline and Ox?"
"We're gonna go on us an adventure together." Jedidiah replied. Thunder sounded in the cloud filled sky above their heads. "Would you really leave an old man out in this coming storm?"
"I would." Rachel replied honestly. "I want to know how you know my niece and nephew. How did you know my name?"
"You won't believe me, Rachel. No one ever does."
"Try me." Rachel replied. Her mind was very open these days. That tended to happen when you found yourself surrounded by flesh eating monsters intent on eating your face.
"Truth is, Rachel, that I am a prophet of sorts. I know things that have happened in the past, I see glimpses of what is going to happen in the future and I am going to lead a group of folks to a sickness free land to the west full of promise and healing."
Rachel sat the butt of the rifle down on the wooden porch boards, gripping the barrel in her hand and leaning against it much like a cane. She ran her free hand over her skirt and blew a long strand of red hair from her face.
"Well, Jedidiah, I must say you have my attention. Lock your horse up in the barn and then come on in and get a cup of tea. I have some water heating."
***
Tennessee
April 1887
Comanche was very concerned about Frankie. It seemed she had either been sleeping or sitting and staring at nothing for the last four days since her uncle had been killed and they had found this cabin.
Thankfully their cabin had so far remained nearly flesh eater free. Only a couple straggling flesh eaters had shown up and Comanche had easily ended their lives and then dragged their bodies a good distance from the cabin before burning them. He had a feeling more would be coming soon however. They could only stay here so long before their scent would draw the flesh eaters in.
There was still a decent amount of food in the cellar and Comanche had managed to trap a few animals for fresh meat but he was getting eager to move on. Staying in one place had never been something he was good at, not since he'd gained his freedom after being prisoner to those white captors for so many years.
And he suspected that Frankie needed to be on the move as well in order for healing to happen. It was too easy for her to remain quiet and lost in sorrow when she had that big bed to lie in all day and night.
He poured the freshly made stew into a bowl and carried the steaming dinner to the room where Frankie still remained. Knocking once, Comanche walked in without waiting for a response and he found her standing at the window and staring outside. She turned slightly, her dark hair falling across her face as she looked back at him.
"You need to eat." Comanche said gently as he sat the bowl of stew on the small table beside her. Frankie nodded.
"Yeah I know. I ain't some baby that you gotta coddle and tend to, Comanche. I'm a grown woman who just happens to be hurting a bit right now."
Comanche nodded, happy to hear her speaking more than one or two words at a time. Though he would have preferred she hadn't used scolding him as an excuse, he had been desperate and would take whatever he was given.
Without another word Frankie sat down and began to eat. Comanche stood there awkwardly a moment longer and then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Darkness was already falling outside and Comanche did a quick security check to ensure all the windows and doors were secure before going into the sitting room and lighting a small fire in the fireplace.
He pulled up an arm chair, grabbed his knife and sharpening stone and stared into the dancing flames as he sharpened the trusty blade.
Comanche was surprised when a short time later, Frankie made her way out of the bedroom and he was shocked when she pulled up another arm chair and sat down beside him at the fire. Comanche did not speak a word as he continued to sharpen his knife and it was Frankie who finally broke the silence.
"So what do I call you? Comanche or Phillip?"
"Comanche." Comanche replied with a shrug and he was aware of Frankie's eyes narrowing as she stared at him.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you change your name, you crazy injun?"
Comanche couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips. It seemed the woman he had met on that rooftop was slowly coming back.
"Names have never much mattered to me and Phillip reminds me of a bad time. I like Comanche. When people think of Comanche they think of a wild, lawless, savage killer and that is what I am to these flesh eaters. It is a fitting name."
"You're a strange one." Frankie stated and Comanche simply shrugged one shoulder and continued sharpening his knife. Frankie shifted in her seat and tugged on her pants leg. "Thank you for keeping me from jumpin' off that roof. I don't know what came over me."
"I do." Comanche sighed with a nod. "Loss is hard, even for the strongest of people."
"Uncle Gibbs raised me." Frankie said quietly, her eyes never leaving the glowing orange flames. "My parents could not be bothered with a girl that had no dreams of marriage or fancy dresses. Uncle Gibbs understood me."
"It is good that you had him." Comanche stated with a nod. "We all need to have that one person who understands us."
"What about you, Comanche? Who do you have?"
"No one." Comanche replied simply. He was surprised by the sadness that entered Frankie's brown eyes as she looked over at him.
"Who did you have?" she asked, obviously assuming that he'd lost the ones important to him to the flesh eaters. Comanche shifted in the chair and slid his knife back in the sheath on his leg.
"No one. Not in a long long time."
Frankie was quiet for several long moments and then she sighed and looked back at the fire. "I reckon we're just two poor souls left alone and lonely in this hell on earth then aren't we?"
Comanche's head tilted to the side as he studied her face glowing in the flickering firelight. "I am not alone, Frankie. I am with you."
She smiled, though the light in her brown eyes remained a dark one as she looked at him once more. "Not for long, Comanche. If this curse on us all has taught me anything it's that I don't ride along with anybody. I'll be heading my own way in the morning."
Over Comanche's dead body would she be leaving alone in the morning. Now that he had found her he sure as hell wouldn't let her go. Comanche had not cared about anyone since the age of eight when those white monsters had ridden in killed his tribe and kidnapped he and several other children, but he cared about her.
"On foot?" Comanche questioned and Frankie shrugged.
"I'll find a horse somewhere along the way."
"I know that you are sad about your uncle but I wish you would reconsider..."
"This has nothing to do with my uncle!" Frankie snapped. "And you'll do well to not mention him like that again. You have no idea what he met to me and what I feel now that he's gone."
"And what do you feel?" Comanche questioned.
Frankie was quiet for a moment and Comanche saw her throat bob as she swallowed hard. "Nothing. I feel nothing......"
She pushed herself to the feet and Comanche was at a loss as what to say to comfort her. He was not good at expressing himself. He had spent a very long portion of his life being taught not to let emotions show and he had never truly learned how to turn that habit off.
"I'm tired." She stated and then she walked away, going back into the bedroom where she had spent the biggest part of the last four days and closed the door behind her.
Comanche sighed as he looked back at the fire. He remembered how it had felt when everything he had known, trusted, loved and believed in had been ripped away from him. He remembered how it felt to feel nothing.... Hell until he'd seen Frankie's face on that rooftop he had still been spending much of his time feeling nothing.
She would be okay given time. At least she had left the room and had a conversation with him today. She was a strong woman and simply needed her time to grieve. He would give that to her just so long as she understood that she was not going to leave him... Wherever she went he would follow. He'd be a fool to let the one thing that made him feel again slip away.