SMARMSLUT QUEEN: Hello, we're still speaking to you
from inside the storage closet of Smarmslut
Headquarters, where we've been locked in by our
pris-er, guest, who's going to be in for a big
surprise as soon as we get the lock picked.
SMARMSLUT ADEPT: Are you sure this is how the pick
goes in?
SMARMSLUT MASTER: Yeah, I think so-least that's how
they used to do it on Mission: Impossible...
QUEEN: Anyway, here's the next part of our story. Oh
for crying out loud, give me that- you're doing it all
wrong!
ADEPT: Well excuse me-I never had to pick a lock
before!
MASTER: Well we never would have either if you hadn't
locked US in the closet that time!
ADEPT: You guys were asking for it!
QUEEN: Pipe down, both of you! I've almost got-*snap*
MASTER: What was that?
QUEEN: The-uh-the pick-uh-broke off in the lock.
(Sound of evil laughter fromn other side of the
closet)
MASTER: I'm starting to really hate this job.
*******************
Ashes of the Mind, pt 21
by the Smarm Sluts
Disclaimer: see pt 1
Chris and Vin went in first, guns drawn. The
hallway was deserted at first; they proceeded further,
the troops filing in behind them.
They crept up to a corner leading to a hallway.
Chris held his gun aloft, threw a quick glance around
the corner, then drew back and looked at Vin.
"Looks like the main hallway, lot of locked doors,"
he said grimly. "Couple of guards standing duty.
This'll have to be quick and quiet."
JD appeared, his face pale. Vin shot him a worried
look.
"Y'okay, kid?"
JD nodded. "Yeah, " he gulped. "I'll be a lot
better once I know Ezra's all right." He waved one
Colt towards the hallway. "This here's the main
entrance, the rooms for the nonviolent inmates are
along this wall."
"Right." Chris hefted his weapon and nodded to Vin.
Vin hoisted his mare's leg and slipped around the
corner, followed by Chris. They were twenty feet down
the hallway before one of the guards turned his head
and saw the six men, along with several dozen troops.
the man's eyes bulged and he gripped his weapon,
gasping in surprise. The second guard, puzzled,
looked over and was likewise dumbfounded.
Vin came up to him quickly, the Winchester aimed at
his heart. "We got the Federal army here, friend.
It's all up, so y'might as well come peaceful."
The two men looked at each other and dropped their
weapons without hesitation, lifting their arms in the
air.
"We just hired on!" cried one.
"They don't tell us nothin' around here!" exclaimed
the other.
"Yeah, tell it to the court," Chris snarled,
grabbing the first man and hurling him back towards
the soldiers. He gripped the second man and shoved
the barrel of his gun into his neck.
"Them the door keys on your belt?"
The terrified man nodded.
"Y'got ten seconds to open this door before gettin'
a new breathin' hole in your throat."
The guard yanked the keys from his belt and quickly
opened the huge iron door. The army commander came
forward, an intense look on his face.
"I'll go in first, Chris," he said. "They might just
shoot at you."
"Whatever you say," Chris replied, not liking the
feeling of dread in his stomach.
The door swung open. The commander stepped in,
swiftly followed by Chris, JD and the rest of the men.
Most of the soldiers remained in the hallway, while
some began to spread out through the building.
The non-violent room was dim and quiet, but the reek
of misery and the stench was almost overwhelming.
Whimpers and moans could be heard in the still air.
The guards whirled as the door opened unexpectedly,
but before they could protest the commander stepped
forward, hand raised.
"I'm Colonel Jackson Hillard. This institution is
being seized under the authority of Federal Circuit
Court Judge Orin Travis and the Army of the United
States," he declared.
The inmates stirred, surprised. One of the guards
had been beating an inmate; when he realized what was
happening he gently lowered the half-conscious man to
the ground and backed away from him, hoping noone had
noticed.
The guard nearest to the door gripped his gun and
came forward. "What the hell is this?"
"You're bein' closed down," Chris said in a cold
voice, his gun aimed at the man's heart. "Care to
argue?"
"What do you mean?" the man sputtered. "Where's the
boss?"
"That piece of cow shit called Branford's tied up
outside," Chris said sharply, as Vin, Nathan, Josiah
and JD began to walk among the inmates, calming them
and searching for Ezra. "Don't worry, you'll see 'im
real soon."
The other guards in the room were quickly subdued
when they saw the odds they were facing; many of them
offered to rat out Branford in exchange for leniency.
The room soon began to hum, as the inmates realized
what was happening. Those who could comprehend it
began to weep.
Josiah approached Nathan, who was looking over a
sick woman. "Truly an unholy sight, brother," he said
sadly.
Nathan sighed. "These folks need medical attention,
they're starvin' an' dehydrated just to start with."
"The army brought some wagons, we'll get em to the
nearest hospital," Josiah reassured him, looking
around with a grave expression. "Best we can do for
'em."
Nathan swallowed, not looking at all reassured.
"Might be too late for some. Any sign of Ezra?"
Josiah shook his head.
Branford fumed as he sat with the soldier outside
the asylum near the back iron gate. How could this
have happened? His mind flew back to that woman-she
was in on it. They must have been allied with that
Standish bastard. Damn that Jed Maxwell and his
insistence on vengeance.
Suddenly a noise reached his ear. Turning, he saw
that the soldier guarding him had been grabbed by a
bald, burly man, who was withdrawing a knife from the
man's back. As the body slumped to the ground the man
leapt towards Branford and cut him loose.
"Watkins!" Branford exclaimed as soon as he pulled
off his gag. "Thank God you got to me."
"Looks like I picked a good time t'go out to the
privy, eh sir?" the man chuckled. "They never saw me."
"Hmmm." Branford adjusted his coat and looked
around; all of the soldiers were inside or around the
front.
"I'm going inside to get my cash and make sure our
guests are safely taken care of," Branford declared.
"If I am implicated in any of this I'll face the noose
for sure."
"Can you get in without gettin' noticed, sir?"
Watkins inquired.
The query was met with a confident smile. "I built
this asylum, my friend. There are ways in and out
that only I know about. I shall be quite safe."
Watkins nodded, hoisting his rifle. "Want me t'come
in too?"
"No, I'll move faster alone," Branford assured him.
"Stay here out of sight, then we'll make our way to
Mexico. The asylum may be overrun with the damned
Yankee army, but they will never see Silas Branford
submit to their vile sense of justice."
With that he turned and hurried back towards the
asylum, and was soon lost in the nocturnal gloom.
Chris picked his way through the crowd of tattered
bodies, his fury mounting with every step. The hollow
eyes and terrified faces which stared at him struck
him to the soul; he'd seen plenty of cruelty in his
lifetime, but this was among the worst. Every man and
woman there, it seemed, bore bruises, whip marks and
the pallor of illness. It made him want to strangle
the first responsible person he could find-if only he
wasn't a lawman.
Somebody suddenly grabbed his pants leg. He
staggered a bit, surprised, and looked down. At his
feet sat a pale, thin young woman, her face almost
hidden by her straggling, dirty blonde hair. She was
clutching a rag doll and staring at him in a wild,
beseeching manner.
"You all right, miss?" he said, turning to her.
"Robert gave me a message for you," was the fervent
reply. Chris hesitated; she seemed delusional, but he
couldn't just walk away after all she had obviously
been through.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I don't
know anyone named Robert."
"Yes you do," she insisted," he's my husband. He
said you'd come."
She's really far gone, Chris thought with sympathy.
"Look, the army'll come by an' help you, okay? I have
to go."
He tried to give her a smile and turned to walk back
towards the door.
Her anxious voice cut through the air. "Aren't you
looking for Ezra Standish?"
Chris jumped as if shocked and whirled, as did all
of the Four Corners lawmen within hearing distance.
He went back to her quickly and knelt before her, his
green eyes wide.
"Yeah, I'm looking for Ezra Standish," he said. "Do
you know where he is?"
She sighed sadly and looked down at the doll in her
arms. "Robert said to tell you Ezra was sorry. And
he-um-he was proud to ride with you!" She seemed
highly pleased with herself for remembering. Then her
face became sad. "That was before they took him away."
"Madeline!"
Chris looked up to see JD lunging through the crowd
of milling inmates and soldiers. He was soon by
Chris's side, along with the rest of their group.
"You know her, JD?" Nathan asked.
"Sure," JD said, gently taking her hands as he
crouched in front of her. "Remember me, Madeline?"
She stared at him very hard, then a radiant smile
split her face. "Oh, yes! You're the nice man."
"Yeah," JD said, trying to stay calm. "You know the
man I was here with?"
"Of course," she nodded, "he was with my dear
Robert. What was he doing with you?"
"Robert must be Ezra," Josiah muttered. "She got
them confused."
"He was just helpin me out," JD said quickly.
"Listen-you say they took him somewhere?"
She nodded, her eyes becoming clouded. "They said
they were taking him downstairs," she said lightly.
"He's probably gone by now. But Robert forgave me.
Isn't that wonderful?"
"It sure is," JD replied, almost bursting with
anxiety. "Where would they take him downstairs?"
Madeline seemed to shrink away, curling in on
herself. "You don't want to go downstairs. They'll
hurt you."
"We'll be fine, Madeline," Chris assured her.
"What's downstairs?"
She looked up at him with haunted blue eyes.
"The bad room," she whispered, "and the other room.
I've been there."
"Shit," Vin swore, seeing the look of terror in her
eyes. He knelt before her, speaking in gentle tones.
"Look, Madeline, you don't got to go there. Can you
just tell us how t'find these rooms so we can get the
men who've been hurtin' you?"
She stared at him wordlessly, then nodded.
"Thank you," Vin said gently, then glanced up at
Chris.
"Looks like we got 'em."