Death and all Her Friends

It's a crisp, clear morning when the duo of Jake and Isabella rouse Ripley from her pit and all but force her in to joining them on a days hunting trip. There's a lot of grumbling and snappy remarks as the young woman tries defiance and swiftly admits defeat in the face of Jake and the sternest of glances. Having still not entirely forgiven her for her Valentine medicine run stunt, he was now determined to get her to pull her weight around their hidden away homestead. They saddle up horses and make surprisingly good time, even with Ripley dragging her heels. There's a thud of hooves and a promise made to be back by nightfall as they ride out, leaving the the rest of the kids in the capable hands of Leon and Mia.

By midday the sun peeks through winter clouds and bathes the stony ground between the two cabins in light. There's little warmth in the air, a chill wind blustering down from the mountains, but it becomes sunny enough that Mia ventures out with a basket of damp clothing. Setting up a line to hang washed garments out to dry.

With a wooden peg between her teeth and standing on her tiptoes, she waves to Leon as he dumps an armful of chopped wood in to the storage shed. He waves back, adjusting leather gloves and returning to his chores around the back of the main cabin.

She smiles to herself, fixing one of her daughters dresses to the line and reaching for another item. Jake's vest. It looks so massive beside little Lizzie's blouse that she takes a moment just to take it in. That swell of motherly pride or something, fluttering around in her stomach. So much so that after a minute she realizes her hand has come to a rest over her belly.

Brushing the thought off, she laughs softly to herself and hangs the last few pieces. Gathering up the basket and holding it to her hip she makes her way back to the cabin she shared with Jake and their daughter. Expecting to find her daughter scribbling away with crayons at the kitchen table, instead, she's greeted by a sight no mother should ever have to see.

The basket clatters to the ground and her hand flies over her mouth, the sound escaping her instantly cut off by the warning she receives.

"Don't make a sound. Not unless you want to find out what she looks like on the inside."

The voice is cold and harsh, yet eerily musical, and it emanates from a familiar face. One Mia hasn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. Sat neatly on the bed with Elizabeth on her knee, the out of control sun bleached blonde hair and icy blue eyes of Leanna Harper freeze Mia in place. It's the gleaming knife that she twists in the hand she doesn't have around the child that really sells it. A leather clad wraith clutching her baby.

Leanna tilts her head to one side, like a Raven studying prey, regarding her old 'friend'. "My my the years do seem to have been kind. Look at you. Glowing. The dutiful housewife in a pretty little dress." Leanna's lip curls, her voice dripping with contempt as her eyes flick briefly around the cabin and back again. "Went from lying down for one murderous piece of shit to another, I see. Seems to be a pattern for you."

Elizabeth squirms and the predator tightens her grip around the child, making her tiny face fall and tears well as she reaches for her Mother. Leanna's sneer remains fixated on Mia.

"Please, don't hurt her." Mia manages in a trembling whisper.

A smirk flicks up the corner of Leanna's mouth, her stormy eyes twinkling with near glee. "Don't worry Princess, I won't hurt her. Not yet."

As she says it, Lizzie goes to let out a frightened wail. Leanna's hand clamps quickly over the infants mouth and she raises the blade to the child's cheek. Mia darts forward as terror fills Lizzie's eyes.

She doesn't make it to her daughter.

Screaming erupts in the opposite cabin. A Blood chilling choir of frightened children, accompanied by the splintering sound of gunfire shatters the peace of the little homestead. Mia's thrown to the floor by a man twice her size, appearing behind her as a dozen men invade the small ranch. She screams for the life of her child as her hands are tightly bound behind her back.


Four Hours Later | Cattail Pond



She'd made a mess of it, though it wasn't so bad for her first try with a bow. Hanging back, Ripley curls her arms around herself and glowers from beneath the rim of her hat, watching as Jake and Isabella approach the fallen, writhing deer beside the water. They were losing light fast, she would likely forever blame the poor shot on that, another in her long repertoire of excuses. Still, Jake's bow was heavy and even he hadn't expected her to pull off the perfect shot the first time she tried.

Jake drops to a knee beside the animal, resting a hand on it's neck and soothing uselessly.

"Shhh. Nearly over." He murmurs, the sound of metal unsheathing from a leather scabbard going unnoticed amidst the doe's braying and kicking. Ripley had managed to impale the doomed beast through it's throat, but not in such a way as to kill it quickly. He hated seeing things suffer - ironic, all things considered - and swiftly he drives the blade through soft skin beneath it's jaw, hitting the jugular and slicing through.

It's messy, but it's fast. In a matter of moments the poor creature stops flailing and lies still. Jake pats her shoulder and rises to his feet, wiping his blade with a rag Isabella hands him as the pair of them watch the blood trickle through grass and reach the water. Staining the small shore and disappearing in to the murky depths of Cattail Pond.

Looking over his shoulder, Jake beckons to Ripley, calling her over. The youngster shuffles like a teenager of the future that's just been told she's grounded. Pouting and clutching her arms with her hands.

"Sorry." She mumbles, looking down at the deer.

Jake simply claps his bloodied hand on her shoulder, giving her a big brotherly smile. "Hey, we all gotta start somewhere."

"I didn't mean for it to suffer." She mutters.

"Bows are heavy. You'll get it with practice." Isabella reasons, pulling strips of cloth from her satchel to bind the wound so they could transport the deer back home without leaving a blood trail behind them.

Jake nods, moving to the waters edge and dunking his hands in to clean them. "It's over now. Sometimes things just don't go how we hope."

Ripley makes a grunt of a sound, bending at Isabella's behest to help her bind the deer. "You should write that in a book or something."

Jake glances back at her with a smirk, hitching a shoulder. "Maybe I will. Memoirs of Jake Torres. I could be the next Billy the Kid."

"Billy the grouchy old man." Ripley grumbles, causing Isabella to stifle a laugh.

"I heard that." Jake warns, looking back down to the water as he finishes rinsing blood from his fingers.

He sees it a fraction too late. The reflection dancing on the surface of the pond in the dying light. The unmistakable glint of a scope bouncing off what was left of the sun. Wanted by almost every lawman and bounty hunter in two states, his immediate thought is that they'd been found. It's a bolt to the heart he barely has time to process as he turns and dives toward the two women. Yelling at them to get down as a bullet whistles over his head. He catches both of them, tumbling them to the ground beside the deer and then hissing at them to move.

It's a blur of confusion and haste, as they bolt to their feet while the sniper on the hill takes pot shots. Thankfully, a terrible aim.

"The deer!" Isabella glances back.

"Forget it, go!" Jake orders, ushering Ripley ahead of them. Almost on cue, a bullet strikes the body of the animal, a spray of blood highlighting the urgency of their escape.

They bolt toward the horses. Toward the line of trees.

It's like something out of a nightmare, as each of those trees seems to move for a second. The trio skid to a halt as their frightened horses stamp their feet and from behind each tall, sturdy trunk, figures shrouded in black leather and sporting eerie masks emerge. An arsenal of guns aimed directly at them. Already he can feel the prickle of eyes on his back as more men arrive behind them, seemingly from nowhere.

It's too fast, too organized. The three of them had let their guard down a few moments too long and the wolves had pounced. The sniper on the hill merely herding them in to a trap.

Jake draws his navy revolver and assesses the approaching targets, his aim bouncing between them, but there's no first shot he can take that didn't stand to get all three of them killed in a hail of gunfire. With no nearby cover and utterly surrounded, any move he made was a death sentence. He didn't care about himself, but he'd die for the two women at his side before he saw them hurt.

"Jake.." Isabella's voice wavers behind him as the three of them stand back to back, watching the circle close around them. Too many men. They weren't Bounty Hunters. They weren't law.

He fixes his stance and feels Ripley grasp the back of his vest, as though holding on to a life raft.

"Who are you? What do you want?" He speaks up, his revolver still raised, however uselessly.

"Put the gun down."

"Answer me."

"You ain't in any position to be makin' demands." A voice rumbles from beneath a pale featureless mask, to the sound of hammers being cocked. "Do as you're told, like a good dog."

Jake's teeth grind so hard, his jaw aches. After a long moment, he relents, relinquishing his gun and setting it on the ground. "Fine. Take me. Let them go."

One of the men steps forward, picking up the revolver and shoving it in to his coat. He presses the barrel of his shotgun against Jake's chest. He looks the other man in the eyes, unafraid for his own life, just fearful for theirs. "I won't fight you."

Someone laughs and it's catching, a ripple of it spreading through twenty-something men that surrounded them.

"Quiet!"

A woman's voice cuts through the laughter and silences each of them instantly. It's like flipping a switch. Immediate obedience you rarely saw in any collective. The voice is eerily familiar, an echo of sorts. It's travels up his spine like an icy cold hand and comes to a rest, a dark shadow at the back of his head. Jake lets out a breath, his brows furrowing as he watches the crowd part like the red sea to allow her through.

"Jake, who are they?" Ripley asks behind him, a hushed whisper barely masking fear.

He has no answer, and it's not that he doesn't know, it's just that he can't quite form the words as an apparition appears before him. All wild blonde hair and black leather. Frozen eyes that target him and him alone, each footfall closer to him sounds like the bang of death drum in his ears.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." She purrs as she reaches him and raises a hand, touching the scar beneath his eye. She seems fascinated for a moment, then draws her fingers back as her face contorts in to disgust. "Damn. I spent so long imagining what I would say to you when this moment finally came, and here I am wasting it on an old cliche."

Her eyes flick around her circle of loyal men and then back to Jake, a viper with it's prey already poisoned. Her expression changes again in an instant, this time to a bright smile as she takes a step back and spreads her arms. "No matter, here we all are. I have such fun planned for all of us."

Jake watches her through narrowed eyes, his heart thudding in his chest.

"What's the matter, aren't you pleased to see me?" She asks, her jovial smile twisting in to something cruel. She lifts a hand to her chin, tapping her finger over her pursed lips. "Oh that's right, I was supposed to hang wasn't I. Atone for the crimes you judged me for. Well I'm sorry to tell you things didn't work out for the poor Sheriff. He lost his head and here I am instead, come to make good on a promise I made you."

She steps closer, leaning in to whisper beside his ear. "I keep my promises, Jake."

"You can have me." He rumbles in return. "Just let the others go."

Leanna pulls back, studying him a moment. Her eyelashes flutter in consideration and eventually she lifts a finger as though making a point. "You know, I don't think I will. I think there's enough fun to be had for all of us. Take them, will you."

She gives the order and it happens immediately. The circle closes around them and men reach for Isabella and Ripley.

It's an eruption of yelling and fighting. While Jake's restrained by the biggest of the men, Isabella and Ripley struggle valiantly to escape with their lives, only to end up bound and gagged and on the ground, still straining against their restraints.

Jake's brought to his knees, though two of Leanna's men now sport broken bones. Three sets of heavy hands finally keep him there, a hefty boot on his calves pinning him. He seethes, every sinew and muscle straining against them. Pure rage at the sight of the two women he cared about, bound so viciously. It's an echo of the past, one that instills searing anger and the cold clutch of dread in his heart.

"I swear to God.." He snarls through his teeth as Leanna approaches him again.

She puffs a lock of blonde out of her eyes and crouches down before him, smiling. "The only God you believe in is Death, you and I both know that. Well, here I am." She reaches out a hand and boops the tip of his nose.

He snarls like a chained hound, baring his teeth at her and fighting against his restraints still.

"You're going to do something for me. You owe me that, I think. We're going to take a little ride and when we get there I will explain.."

He spits a glob of saliva at her boots. It's unwise.

She grabs his chin and spits in his face.

He surges forward, hands clawing and wanting to strangle her and very nearly toppling the men grasping at him.

Leanna snaps her fingers and behind, one of her men kicks Ripley in the stomach. A hefty blow that doubles her up, choking and struggling for air around the gag. Another grasps Isabella by the hair and wrenches it so hard while digging a foot in to her back, she wails in pain against the cloth in her mouth.

Jake relents. His chest heaving quickened breaths of rage.

"I'll fucking kill you." He hisses.

Leanna grins, plucking something from the pocket of her trench-coat. "You had your chance, now it is my turn. Do as I say.. or you'll never see them again."

She lifts her hand before his eyes and shows him a bonnet. A tiny, toddlers bonnet. One he'd seen on the head of the most beautiful girl in the world just this morning.

Elizabeth's.

All of the color drains out his face and his eyes search hers for an answer. "What have you done to them?"

Leanna bites her lip and clicks her fingers again, leaning forward she crams his daughters bonnet in his mouth.

"You'll see." She sing-songs.

Standing tall, she barks her orders.

"Get them on the horses. Lets go."