Animal (Animal 13 - Part 2)

John wakes with a shout, revolver drawn. The cold has returned. He shudders as he holsters his weapon and tries to regain control of his body. He lies still, longing for the touch of Rose. But Rose is dead, alone in a charred field, gone forever from this world. He sits up hugging himself and gasping for breath.
Outside, the sun is a large blob shadowed by the rising moon. Evening has come. John ceases shaking long enough to pull his clothes back on. He buttons his shirt and opens the door that separates his room from the rest of the tavern, not bothering to grab his boots or turn the lock.
Below, the tavern is almost empty. Billy sits behind the counter with a book in hand, eyes scanning yellowed pages. He glances up from the novel and nods to John before returning to the words. His father has gone, the poker players left. The laughing men sit fast asleep at their tables, faces pressed into the countertops, drooling against the wood.
John makes his way down the stairs, taking his time as he goes, the soles of his feet pattering against the steps. He gives the barkeep a sheepish wave upon reaching the first floor landing.
“Can I help you, John?”
John tries to keep his cheeks from flushing. He stutters with the words.
“You, uh…you mentioned company?”
“Oh yes.”
Billy shoots him a sly smile, places his finger to his lips, and lets out a shrill whistle.
“Jane! Jane, you got a customer!”
The door beside the bar swings open and the girl in violet burlesque enters. She pushes her blonde hair back, a look of annoyance splashed across her face. She crosses her arms and glances in the bartender’s direction, hips swung to the side, drumming her fingers against her bare skin.
“I was having dinner, Billy.”
“Hey, it’s your money.”
Jane stops and eyes John. Her face clears.
“I guess I’m finished.”
Jane straightens her dress. She grabs John by the shoulder and pulls him along with her. John turns back to see Billy shoot him a coyote grin.
“What room, honey?”
“I’m guessing the only one occupied right now,” John replies.
“Smart guy, huh? Get in.”
Jane opens the room door and pushes John inside, shutting it behind her.
“Sit on the bed,” she says, voice stern and professional.
Her eyes betray her calamity. They sparkle like a precious stone.
“You got money?”
“Yeah—”
“It’s a dollar for a full night,” Jane replies, cutting him off.
John passes the girl a crumpled bill. Jane removes her purse and places the money inside.
“So how we going to do this? You ever been with a working girl before?”
“Uh…no, not really,” John replies, face tinted with a swirl of red.
“Don’t worry, there’s a first time for everything.”
Jane reaches down and removes her stockings, tossing them across the room. She starts to undo her skirt but John grabs her hand.
“Stop,” he says.
“You want me to do it slowly?”
“No.”
“You want to do it?”
“No, just…stop for a second,” John whispers, “look, I don’t want to sleep with you.”
The woman eyes him with suspicion. Her gaze drifts back to the door that separates them from the rest of the tavern.
“What?”
“I just want the company.”
“You some kind of nut?”
“I just need the company, just for the night.”
Jane clicks her tongue against her teeth and stops. Her bright blue eyes shudder slightly, the fear in them vanished.
“Alright,” she says, “Okay, just let me get my nightgown.”

* * *

John wakes in the night with the familiar, crushing fear. Jane’s arm wraps around his chest. The warmth of her skin calms him. His chest rises and falls normal once more. The shaking fades.
“Bad dreams?” Jane asks.
Jane sits up, dressed in a modest but beautiful sleeping gown. The silk fabric drifts across her body. John lies in the same clothes he’d worn when they first met.
“Always.”
“What are they about?” Jane asks.
“A girl I knew.”
“What was her name?”
“Rose.”
Jane lies back, her hair spilling across the pillow, and stares up at the ceiling.
“Was she beautiful?”
“She was divine,” John replies.
“Did you love her?”
“I did.”
“And she loved you.”
“Yes.”
Jane turns on her side to face John and strokes his messy hair.
“I’m sorry," she says.
“Don’t be.”
The two lie without speaking. Crickets chirp beyond the window. John breaks the silence.
“Why do you do what you do?”
“I think you should go back to sleep, John.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Jane turns away. John watches her, knowing better than to continue with his questions. She speaks, back kept to him.
“I lost my family some time ago. Jed and Billy took me in. They’re kind of like family now. I worked in the bar for a while until I figured I’d make a lot more doing this. That’s really all there is to it."
John nods. “I can tell you’re scared.”
Jane lies quiet, offering no response. John turns away and shifts against the sheets. The sounds of the world fade.

* * *

John wakes to the sound of screaming. Night has fallen. Rays of silver moonlight pierce the thin curtains and illuminate the room. Muffled voices rise from the floor below.
John leaps to his feet and opens the door, grabbing his belt from the bed stand. One of the silver revolvers falls from a holster as he races down the stairs. He doesn’t bother to head back for it.
Billy lies on the floor holding his hand against a deep gash carved into his arm. A second cut crosses his cheek. Jed kneels beside him. Tables are upturned, mugs smashed, the two laughing men stand in the center of the fray. Dark splotches of red stain their eyes. The smaller one pins Jane’s arm behind her back and presses a knife to her throat. The giant raises a shoddy six-shooter above his head. A second pistol tucks into his belt.
“Where’s the money? Empty the register!”
Jed remains at his boy’s side.
“It’s open. Just take the money and go.”
The men fall silent as John steps into the middle of the tavern, revolver shifting between the two men. The giant sneers.
“Drop the gun, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy,” John replies, “Let them go.”
“Nah, we’re taking this whore here, understand?”
“You hurt her and you’re dead.”
Jane struggles against the lanky man. Tears stream from her eyes. Bruises cover her pale face. Ribbons of torn cloth hang from her nightgown.
“Help me,” she whispers.
The man with the knife laughs and digs the blade into her throat just enough to draw a thin line of blood. His hand fondles her chest.
“Back up, buddy. Ya see we’re takin’ this here whore with us, gonna show her a fun time. Then, when we’re done, we might jus’ leave her bleedin’ in an alley stead of cuttin’ her up. That all depends on her and you. So back off. We both know you ain’t gonna fire.”
John looks back and forth between the two men. His face reveals nothing.
“I’m giving you one last chance, take the money and leave.”
The giant smiles. He turns to his partner.
“Jus’ kill her, Mark.”
“Jane, duck!” John screams.
Jane leans to the side as he fires. The redhead with the knife flies back, clutching his shoulder and screaming. John spins to face the stunned giant. The man’s gun goes off but his shot sails wide. John ducks down, steadying his aim, and pulls the trigger a second time. The man’s thumb disappears in a thick spray. John cocks the hammer again but the skinny man tackles him from the side, pulling him down across the blood-splattered floor. His revolver falls with him.
The man grabs wildly for John’s arm, trying to pin him, his hand scratching at his bare skin. John wrenches himself free and elbows his opponent twice in the face. The man’s nose breaks with a sickening snap. Two spurts of dark blood stain his lips. The man releases his hold, grasping his nose and shrieking from the pain. John forces the man to the ground, holding him in place with his knee buried in his chest, and slams his fists into the drunk’s flushed face twice more. The man twitches once before blacking out. John leaps to his feet and faces the giant, fists raised.
The giant holds the knife now. Its stained blade shines in the light. He paces to the side, jabbing forward randomly, taunting his opponent. He rushes John and lashes with reckless abandon. John sidesteps the man and draws his hunting knife, thrusting it into the man’s hip. The giant howls and falls against a table, teetering on shaky arms as he tries to rise once more. He reaches for the six-shooter on his belt. John drives his blade through his opponent’s palm, pinning him to the tabletop. The man shakes with shock and stares up at John. Dark blood pours from his wound as he tugs at the stuck blade.
John stands over the man. His hands shake from the rush.
“You should have left,” he says.
He strikes the man across the face. He slumps to the side, held up by the blade in his hand. John stands above his body, chest rising and falling each exhausted breath. He grasps his hunting knife by the handle and tears it from the table letting pinned man fall.
Jed and Billy sit watching him with wide eyes. Jane stands alone, her dress stained with the men’s blood. Her hands cover her heart as she steps towards John mouthing silent words. She stumbles. John rushes forward, catching her before she can fall.
Jane grasps John’s hand, squeezing it tight. Her head slumps against his chest as she succumbs to her exhaustion. John takes her up in his arms and stands before the aftermath. He turns to Jed and Billy.
“Jed, take care of your son, these men aren’t getting up anytime soon. If you want to, maybe tend to them, especially the one without the finger.”
Jed nods with dumb silence.
“I’m going to take care of Jane.”
Jed nods again. John approaches the stairs, speaking words of comfort to the unconscious girl. Jed calls after him.
“You’re a true Rider.”
“My father was a Rider,” John replies, “I’m not.”
John turns and makes his way to his room holding the beaten girl in his arms.

* * *

Jane wakes. Her eyes adjust to the thin light of the room. A dark bruise forms against her cheek. A cut stretches across her brow. John dabs her face with a wet rag.
“How do you feel?”
Jane flinches and turns away. She knocks the rag from John’s hands and pushes him back, scuttling to the edge of the bed. John doesn’t follow.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispers.
“You’re a Rider.”
“No. My father was. I’m not.”
Jane leaps from the bed.
“The Riders killed my family,” she says, voice soft and broken, on the verge of tears, “how do I know you’re not one?”
John grabs her by the hand and pulls her to him. She lowers her head but he pushes her chin up. Her face is bruised and swollen, her lip split. John passes a hand through her shining hair.
“Look at me. I will not hurt you. I hunt a Rider, a man named Varlyn.”
“The man who burns the corn?” she asks.
John nods. With sudden movement Jane leans forward and embraces him. He holds her close, feeling her breath upon his neck.
“Please, make him pay. Make him pay for what he’s done.”
“I will.”
John leads her to the bed. He lays her back and dabs her face, washing away the powder and makeup. It glows despite the bruises. John opens his bag and removes a needle and thread. He stitches the cut over her left eye, then bandages.
“Thank you,” Jane says.
“Don’t worry.”
Jane sits up, eyes wide. “You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
John glances down at his right arm. A patch of blood blossoms along the surface. John removes his shirt and lets it drop to the ground below. The gunshot wound has opened. Blood drips slowly down.
“Let me see,” Jane whispers as she studies John’s arm.
He pulls away, stooping to pick up his shirt and supplies.
“It’s okay,” he insists, dropping the contents upon the bed.
“Let me see.”
“I’m fine.”
Jane grabs John and shoves him back onto the bed. John tries to sit up but she pushes him down, her delicate hands surprisingly strong.
“You going to let me see your arm?” she asks, holding him in place. Her hair spills over her chest.
“Okay.”
John sits up. A small smile spills across his lips. Jane takes his needle and thread and begins to sew, carefully looping the thread through his skin and pulling it tight. John hisses in pain. The minutes pass but he sits without protest and lets the girl work. She soon finishes, cutting the thread with her teeth.
“There. Good as new.”
John smoothes out the stitches with the tip of his finger.
“I never thought the woman I carried over the threshold would be a woman I paid to keep me company the first time I met her.”
Jane giggles. The two stare at one another. She sits up without warning and kisses John’s lips. John turns his head.
“I’m sorry,” Jane whispers, rubbing her hands together in nervous shame.
“It’s okay.”
“I really am.”
“Don’t be. It’s just…”
Tears fall from John’s eyes. He covers his face and curses his weakness.
“I just miss her so much.”
“I understand.”
Jane wraps her arms around John. She holds him close as he weeps, still trying to hide his tears.
“He took everything from us,” John says, “The Tall Man killed our families.”
“I know.”
“He won’t get away.”
“I know.”
Jane places her hand on John’s chest and feels the beating of his heart. Together they watch the clouds drift beyond the moon. The two orphaned children sit alone, rocking back and forth, forever united by the forces that tore their lives apart.