Pax seemed oddly quiet with the militia gone. Those who had remained behind were just enough to hold the inner perimeter against the mutants, should there be an attack, but no one really begrudged the need for most of their able-bodied fighters to head to the valley in answer to the signal lit on the mountaintop.
Life continued on, much as it always did. Ember remained with Joss, Ethan's father, in his absence; Han and Uther had chosen to remain and look after Aedan and Brona in Mahon's absence. But despite their best efforts, Brona was still the main healer for the area, and she still had work to do. Called out at all hours, she was rarely home for longer than a few hours at a time, with accidents and illnesses necessitating her attendance all over Pax and the surrounding farms.
Three nights after Mahon and Ethan had left with the militia, she was called out to the mill, on the very edge of Pax's territory, to check on Old Man Green, who had been suffering with almost continuous infections since his foot had been crushed months before. She was with him most of the night, leaving only when she was sure he would sleep soundly, and promising his granddaughter that she would return the next day to check on him. She'd walked the few miles between the mill and the Dugan farm enough times to know the route in her sleep. But even so, she found herself walking faster beneath the full moon tonight, feeling oddly exposed in the knowledge that so few of their own were watching the perimeter. The sooner she was home, the better.
Maybe it was a sixth sense, but she had good reason to be wary out there on the edge of Pax's territory. For one thing, there was the constant threat of mutants, even in the daylight, though they'd been strangely quiet lately. And there were the ruffians and outlaws who sometimes roamed from village to village, raiding and taking what they wanted, too wild to settle down. Though they were human, they were a threat of a different kind. Mostly, they were interested in supplies - food, medicine, booze, and sometimes women. There were rumored to be several small packs of them that roamed the wild, though it had been a long time since anyone could remember them visiting Pax.
A long time, yes; long enough that it wasn't the thought of being attacked by other people that was on Brona's mind as she walked along in the chill of the spring night. Hugging her shawl tighter about herself, she fixed her eyes on the dim outline of the farm in the far distance and picked up the pace, one hand inside her basket of medical supplies gripping the small knife she usually used for ad-hoc surgery. Well, if she had to use it tonight, it would definitely be ad-hoc, but probably not what you might call surgery.
It was the sound of a pistol being cocked that was likely her first sign of trouble. The sound came from somewhere in the shadows behind her, and in the darkness it was hard to tell how many there might be. Not mutants, obviously - mutants usually kept to their own territory. This was some other threat. "Stop right there and don't make no sudden moves," a male voice warmed from somewhere in the shadows.
Startled by a sound she had never expected to hear in the still darkness, Brona stuttered to an abrupt halt on the track, her back suddenly stiff with painful tension. She felt her hand flex impulsively about the knife in her grasp, but didn't make any moves, just as she was told. "What do you want?" she asked, surprised by her own audacity.
"You a healer?" asked a second voice, confirming that there was more than one of them. "Seen you going to see Old Man Green. Them medical supplies in your bag?" the second voice continued, the vague outline of a tall man partially hidden in the shadows nearby.
Of all the questions she might have anticipated, that had not been one of them. Brona felt her grip on the knife relax a little. "I ....I'm a healer," she nodded in answer to the second voice, her head turning toward the deeper shadow it seemed to be coming from. "I-I'm just going home." Some slightly bolder part of her added, "If I drop this basket, things will smash, and it won't be pretty."
"Put the gun away, Eli," the second voice whispered, presumably to the first.
"So, she can run away?" the other argued.
"You're gonna scare her and then what?re we gonna do?" the second countered, arguing back and forth. "We don't mean you no harm, miss. We just - we need your help."
"How am I gonna outrun two men when I'm carrying this?" Brona interjected over her shoulder to the owner of the first voice - apparently named Eli. At least it didn't seem as though they were in the market for a captured bride, which was the initial thought that had shocked through her mind. "You need a healer?" she asked quietly. "You could've come to the farm any time today, I'd've come. Why stop me in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere?"
"It's our little brother, ma'am ..." the second one, thus far unnamed, blurted.
"Shut up, Nate," the one named Eli scolded, most likely the elder of the two. "You gonna come nicely or do we gotta get nasty?"
"Ain't no reason to get nasty, Eli," the one named Nate said, as he stepped into the moonlight. He was young - younger than he sounded maybe, probably in his early to mid-twenties - a little disheveled, but not bad looking. He had a chestnut-colored mare on a lead behind him who was snorting and nodding her head, as if in greeting to the young woman. "Brother's in a bad way, ma'am. He needs help, and we're afraid if we move him, he might not make it."
The other brother - Eli - could be heard growling a few choice words, not unlike Brona's brother might have in his shoes.
Daring to move, Brona turned toward Nate as he came out of the shadows, worry crossing her expression at the back and forth between the brothers. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, before dismissing the question with a shake of her head. "Look, I-I need to tell them at the farm where I'll be. They'll worry, and they've got enough to worry about right now."
"Ain't no time for that," Eli snapped, moving into the light so that she could see the moonlight gleaming off the pistol in his hand. "We can talk about sending word to the village later. Time's a wasting," he added, waving toward the horse with his pistol.
Nate frowned in the darkness. "Please, miss. He's just a kid. Mutants got him, and if he don't get some help soon ..." He broke off, not wanting to finish that thought, much less speak it out loud.
"But ..." She looked hopelessly toward the dark shape of the farm, too far away for her to even consider making a run for it, especially now she knew they had horses. On the other hand, their brother had been attacked by mutants and could well be at death?s door already; without some intervention, he would die. "You'll bring me back, right?"
"Soon as he's out of trouble," Nate replied agreeably.
Eli only scowled, refusing to make any promises until his brother was well, but despite the talk about outlaws, he'd never hurt a soul in his whole life who didn't deserve it. After a moment, he finally told her grudgingly, "You help him get well, and I'll bring you back myself. You have my word."
"What if I can't?" Perhaps it was a heartless question, but she needed to know the answer to that one before she agreed to anything. What would they do if she couldn't do anything for their brother" Would she disappear"
Life continued on, much as it always did. Ember remained with Joss, Ethan's father, in his absence; Han and Uther had chosen to remain and look after Aedan and Brona in Mahon's absence. But despite their best efforts, Brona was still the main healer for the area, and she still had work to do. Called out at all hours, she was rarely home for longer than a few hours at a time, with accidents and illnesses necessitating her attendance all over Pax and the surrounding farms.
Three nights after Mahon and Ethan had left with the militia, she was called out to the mill, on the very edge of Pax's territory, to check on Old Man Green, who had been suffering with almost continuous infections since his foot had been crushed months before. She was with him most of the night, leaving only when she was sure he would sleep soundly, and promising his granddaughter that she would return the next day to check on him. She'd walked the few miles between the mill and the Dugan farm enough times to know the route in her sleep. But even so, she found herself walking faster beneath the full moon tonight, feeling oddly exposed in the knowledge that so few of their own were watching the perimeter. The sooner she was home, the better.
Maybe it was a sixth sense, but she had good reason to be wary out there on the edge of Pax's territory. For one thing, there was the constant threat of mutants, even in the daylight, though they'd been strangely quiet lately. And there were the ruffians and outlaws who sometimes roamed from village to village, raiding and taking what they wanted, too wild to settle down. Though they were human, they were a threat of a different kind. Mostly, they were interested in supplies - food, medicine, booze, and sometimes women. There were rumored to be several small packs of them that roamed the wild, though it had been a long time since anyone could remember them visiting Pax.
A long time, yes; long enough that it wasn't the thought of being attacked by other people that was on Brona's mind as she walked along in the chill of the spring night. Hugging her shawl tighter about herself, she fixed her eyes on the dim outline of the farm in the far distance and picked up the pace, one hand inside her basket of medical supplies gripping the small knife she usually used for ad-hoc surgery. Well, if she had to use it tonight, it would definitely be ad-hoc, but probably not what you might call surgery.
It was the sound of a pistol being cocked that was likely her first sign of trouble. The sound came from somewhere in the shadows behind her, and in the darkness it was hard to tell how many there might be. Not mutants, obviously - mutants usually kept to their own territory. This was some other threat. "Stop right there and don't make no sudden moves," a male voice warmed from somewhere in the shadows.
Startled by a sound she had never expected to hear in the still darkness, Brona stuttered to an abrupt halt on the track, her back suddenly stiff with painful tension. She felt her hand flex impulsively about the knife in her grasp, but didn't make any moves, just as she was told. "What do you want?" she asked, surprised by her own audacity.
"You a healer?" asked a second voice, confirming that there was more than one of them. "Seen you going to see Old Man Green. Them medical supplies in your bag?" the second voice continued, the vague outline of a tall man partially hidden in the shadows nearby.
Of all the questions she might have anticipated, that had not been one of them. Brona felt her grip on the knife relax a little. "I ....I'm a healer," she nodded in answer to the second voice, her head turning toward the deeper shadow it seemed to be coming from. "I-I'm just going home." Some slightly bolder part of her added, "If I drop this basket, things will smash, and it won't be pretty."
"Put the gun away, Eli," the second voice whispered, presumably to the first.
"So, she can run away?" the other argued.
"You're gonna scare her and then what?re we gonna do?" the second countered, arguing back and forth. "We don't mean you no harm, miss. We just - we need your help."
"How am I gonna outrun two men when I'm carrying this?" Brona interjected over her shoulder to the owner of the first voice - apparently named Eli. At least it didn't seem as though they were in the market for a captured bride, which was the initial thought that had shocked through her mind. "You need a healer?" she asked quietly. "You could've come to the farm any time today, I'd've come. Why stop me in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere?"
"It's our little brother, ma'am ..." the second one, thus far unnamed, blurted.
"Shut up, Nate," the one named Eli scolded, most likely the elder of the two. "You gonna come nicely or do we gotta get nasty?"
"Ain't no reason to get nasty, Eli," the one named Nate said, as he stepped into the moonlight. He was young - younger than he sounded maybe, probably in his early to mid-twenties - a little disheveled, but not bad looking. He had a chestnut-colored mare on a lead behind him who was snorting and nodding her head, as if in greeting to the young woman. "Brother's in a bad way, ma'am. He needs help, and we're afraid if we move him, he might not make it."
The other brother - Eli - could be heard growling a few choice words, not unlike Brona's brother might have in his shoes.
Daring to move, Brona turned toward Nate as he came out of the shadows, worry crossing her expression at the back and forth between the brothers. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, before dismissing the question with a shake of her head. "Look, I-I need to tell them at the farm where I'll be. They'll worry, and they've got enough to worry about right now."
"Ain't no time for that," Eli snapped, moving into the light so that she could see the moonlight gleaming off the pistol in his hand. "We can talk about sending word to the village later. Time's a wasting," he added, waving toward the horse with his pistol.
Nate frowned in the darkness. "Please, miss. He's just a kid. Mutants got him, and if he don't get some help soon ..." He broke off, not wanting to finish that thought, much less speak it out loud.
"But ..." She looked hopelessly toward the dark shape of the farm, too far away for her to even consider making a run for it, especially now she knew they had horses. On the other hand, their brother had been attacked by mutants and could well be at death?s door already; without some intervention, he would die. "You'll bring me back, right?"
"Soon as he's out of trouble," Nate replied agreeably.
Eli only scowled, refusing to make any promises until his brother was well, but despite the talk about outlaws, he'd never hurt a soul in his whole life who didn't deserve it. After a moment, he finally told her grudgingly, "You help him get well, and I'll bring you back myself. You have my word."
"What if I can't?" Perhaps it was a heartless question, but she needed to know the answer to that one before she agreed to anything. What would they do if she couldn't do anything for their brother" Would she disappear"