Dustland Requiem (A Bard's Folktale)
Chapter 37. …A Woman Scorned
“Eye, foot, arm, and half your army for an eye.”
– Lorena’s Prayer Book
Jake struggled to get free, dragged up the staircase by a small group of banditos. He fought, but to no avail. He remained unable to shake himself free, and was forcefully marched across the breezeway to the private abode he had been to only once before. Thrown onto the petrous floor of the quaint adobe dwelling, he saw Kody sitting just a few feet away, apparently bored.
“The hell? Are you a fuckin’ hostage or a guestage?”
Kody shook out his ankle, revealing the chain affixed to the wall. Jake scoffed, kicked aside as banditos made room for Adelais, setting him on a nearby table. Behind the table, Jake noticed something new in the old place: a steel door built into the wall. This revelation was quickly dismissed when Estaban came in behind Adelais, looking a bit worse for wear, but sturdy as ever.
Estaban bypassed Jake on his way to the table, examining Adelais. Jake tried to get a view of him, but received another kick in the ribs as he moved. Grunting at the injury, he attracted the attention of Estaban, who finally took notice.
“Jake. This has been a busy day for me, and I have to admit—I’m not a fan of busy days. My vitality isn’t what it used to be. I suspect all this ruckus is due in no small part to you.” Estaban walked over to Jake, squatting in front of him. “Big day for you though, I suppose. The brothers that hunted you for so long are dead—you must feel pretty good about yourself. Even if your life is one big, tragic failure.”
“I’ve had worse days.” Jake looked up to Estaban, grinning as he shrugged.
“I’m sure that’s true. Unfortunately for both of us—mostly me, and a little bit Adelais—that disreputable cur of a lieutenant put a bullet in our friend here. From what I’ve heard, you know a little about medicine. Do I need to keep going?”
“Ain’t any friend a’ mine.”
Jake crawled off his knees, rising to stand. Estaban met his posture, and walked him over to the table to examine Adelais.
“I imagine not, no. You don’t really keep friends. Or hygiene habits. But his family’s diversions were the reason you got away in the first place, and they seem like pretty decent folks, so I’d count him among the people you want to stay in this world.”
Jake cocked his eye at Estaban as he looked Adelais over, noticing a pool of blood streaming from his shoulder. Jake felt around his body, checking for any other wounds. He felt something in one of Adelais’s pockets, and pulled out a small piece of paper. He opened it up, reading the list of names, his and Arturo’s being at the top.
“The hell is this?”
“Oh, his list. I guess we can cross one of those off right now, can’t we?”
Estaban took the list from Jake, picking up a pen off the table and scratching out Arturo’s name. He folded the piece of paper and set it back down on the table.
“An’ me?” Jake asked.
“This has been an interesting day. I’ll leave that to your friend. It is his list, after all. Though I should tell you, the rest of the names on that list aren’t really all that important with the Romeros gone. So, if you’re the only thing standing between him and the assured safety of his loved ones…”
“Fuck that.”
Jake turned about and headed toward the door, blocked off by several unpleasant-looking banditos.
“Let him die if you want. But if he can’t make a decision, I will. And believe me, I’ve become more than a little absent minded lately. It could take a while before I come up with anything that doesn’t involve slow, brutal castration. You took the fruit of my loins, so it only seems right that I aim for the same. You know, for poetry’s sake and all.”
Jake stared at Estaban, and then at Kody sitting pathetically against the wall. He sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up as he resumed his examination of Adelais.
“At least let the kid go. He’s just a fuck-up we dragged in from outta town.”
“Unfortunate for your confederate. Get to work. I have a syndicate that needs attention.”
Estaban exited the abode, leaving an ample contingent of banditos to guard it. Jake sucked down the nicotine, embracing the burn and working on patching up Adelais. One of the banditos brought him a first-aid kit and some basic surgical implements, presumably what they kept on hand in case Estaban ever became ill. Jake inspected the sight of injury, and began to extract the bullet.
“Sonuvabitch!”
Adelais’s body jumped. Adelais reached for the bullet wound, but couldn’t fully extend his arm. Jake held him down, motioning for a few banditos to assist.
“Calm down, big guy. I’m helpin’ ya’ out, so uh… put in a good word for me, okay?”
Jake inhaled the nicotine once more, snuffing out the cigarette and folding it behind his ear. He wiped his hands off with the first-aid kit’s antiseptic and got to work.