Katherine scowls at me. “Jane.”
“What? He’s dead, he ain’t going to need it anymore. Besides, this is a quality bit of haberdashery.” Katherine says nothing, and finally makes her way to the armory. “See if they got a belt to hold my sickles,” I call. Her response is silence.
The preacher’s breath is coming in pants and whistles now, and his front is pretty well soaked through with blood. He won’t last much longer. I grab a chair and swing it over near where he reclines on the floor. His breaths come faster as I sit down, and I give him a wide smile.
“Now, now, no need to panic, I ain’t going to kill you. I reckon that leak in your chest is going to do that.” I cross my legs and lean back in the chair, the revolver heavy in my lap. “Since you’re a man of God, I’m going to tell you a story, confess some sins.”
The pastor doesn’t respond, so I continue.
“You recall the Years of Discord? I was only a child, but I remember them. The constant fear of someone turning, the packs of dead prowling the countryside, the news that another person had died, only to return and eat half the household. It was unbearable. I still picture the fear on my momma’s face whenever we got word another person went missing. But we endured. We came to be self-sufficient, we built strong fences. And we learned to work together to survive.
“But my momma’s husband? Well, he was a man like you. Enamored of the past. Stubborn. He returned home after things had settled, as the Years of Discord came to an end, as something like that order you speak of was restored. And he brought with him all the fear and turmoil of that time.
“He had the idea that he was still the master of the plantation, that the old ways should hold sway. He beat anyone who stepped out of line. He sent children out on patrols. People died needlessly, and he counted it the price of progress. He had it in his head to build something like your Summerland right there on Rose Hill, and damned if anyone was going to stand in his way.
“So one night, after he had gotten a bit drunk and more than a bit violent, I snuck down to my momma’s study and stole her gun. And the next morning, while he was still abed, I shot him twice in the head, the way my momma had taught me to put down a shambler.”
The pastor’s eyes go wide with terror and I shrug. “See, the problem in this world ain’t sinners, or even the dead. It is men who will step on anyone who stands in the way of their pursuit of power. Luckily there will always be people like me to stop them.”
I stand and resettle the sheriff’s hat, now my hat. “That horde will be coming through town soon enough, and if you ain’t already dead by then, the shamblers will surely oblige. As for me, I’ve got quite enough stains on my soul, so I hope you meet your end quickly.
“Either way, when you get to hell, give the man who fathered me, Major McKeene, my regards.”
I head into the armory. Katherine stands there, open-mouthed. I don’t know how much she heard, but it seems to have been enough. I can’t meet her gaze.
“My momma is passing light, just like you,” I say, because she deserves to know. “She was a slave. When her mistress died on the road to meet her fiancé, my momma pretended to be her, and that’s how she came to be the mistress of Rose Hill. It near drove her mad, all the lying and subterfuge, but she did it to save her family. To save everyone. When I was born, it was only a matter of time before her secret was compromised. She should’ve killed me, and one time she tried, but I survived.”
“Jane,” Katherine begins, but I hold up my hand.
“I know what I asked of you, and I’m eternally grateful. You helped to save my life,” I say. “Now, we might not survive what comes next, and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you.”
Katherine grabs me up into a hug, her tears hot against my face. I pat her awkwardly.
“Not now, we got a horde bearing down on us. I reckon we’ve dawdled long enough.”
She gives a hollow laugh and releases me, then steps forward and grabs a pair of Mollies, twin swords as long as a woman’s forearm and wickedly sharp on either side. Of course, Katherine would naturally grab the flashiest weapons available.
Our moment of confession is over, and now there is only work. Katherine catches me watching her as she straps the swords across her back. “These are quality blades, Jane.”
“How can you even tell? I can barely even see anything in here.”
She crosses her arms and taps her foot. “That is not something I want to hear after you just shot a man who had been standing right behind me.”
“I suppose you’re right. Now, let’s see if we can’t generate a few more miracles between the two of us and save some of these miserable people.”
Katherine nods, and we head to the door. I pause on the threshold, my hand on the knob. “Kate?”
“Yes?”
“Take off that damned corset. We’re going out to face down a horde, not to a ball.”
“It’s isn’t a full corset; it’s a half corset. It’s the newest style. Besides Jane, the day I cannot take down a few shamblers wearing something fashionable is the day I turn in my rifle.”
I grin at her and say nothing, just tip my hat in acknowledgment.
I’m almost out the door when I look down and
