One Day Too Late

One Day Too Late

The sound of hooves on a paved road, a thunderous and powerful sound, echoed into the night as a group of six horses tore through the night. Trees blurred, small woodland critters scurried, and yet no words were exchanged between the group of riders. Over the horizon, plumes of smoke wove into the air, coupled with the smell of fire and burnt meat.

At the head of the group, riding atop a dark brown horse, a pale-skinned woman with long flowing blonde hair under a wide-brimmed hat sneered. Turning to her companions, she edged them to a halt before turning to them and grasping something at her belt. When she picked her hand back up, a shining metal pistol was in her hand, which she used to point back down the path.

“Keep your eyes open, everyone. We may be too late.” Her words were heavy, laden with conviction. 

From atop a gray horse, a taller figure nodded. At first glance, he seemed to be wearing a large helmet with red glowing eyes. Upon further inspection, though, he seemed to be a giant man made of metal. How his horse was supporting his almost definitely overbearing weight was a secret known to him. He turned his head toward another of their companions, a woman on a horse with a golden coat.

“Scholar. Did you ever place who sent us the warning?” His voice was deep, interwoven through with clear signs of electronic whirring. Scholar, in response, shook her head. She was as tall as the former man with dirty blonde hair, a pair of small circular glasses, and large ram’s horns extending from the sides of her heads.

“Not a clue, Bot. There’s no trail that I could follow and if there was one, it’s tracks were wiped clean.” She shook her head, then readjusted her glasses. “It’s like a ghost came through and dropped that note off.”

Another man on a tan horse laughed aloud, shaking his head to whip the dredges of humor away. He had short white hair and his face was covered by a black gas mask.

“A ghost? Preposterous! It had to have been left by someone, my dear!” He shook his head, still chuckling, before a long arm came out from his side and slapped him over the back of the head. Off to his side, sat a man upon an almost ghostly white horse. He was thin, with a long black shawl over his shoulders adorned with small white bones, and a wide black hat. Under his hat, the mans’ face seemed to be made of straw and stitched together. 

“Doc. We’ve talked about this.” He complained, pulling his arm back. Upon further inspection, he had four long, gangly arms, each one crossed over his chest. “Leave the girl to ‘er business. She says she ain’t find a trail, she ain’t find a trail. Leave it at that.” 

The last figure, resting just next to the blonde woman, sat atop a dark red horse. His hat hung over his face, long black hair wrapping over his shoulders and hanging down his front. The long black coat he wore seemed to writhe in the darkness; Though maybe it was just a trick of the light. He turned to the woman, his voice quiet and contained, unlike the rest of the companions who continued to mumble in argument behind them.

“Everyone, quiet down.” He said and the noise dwindled to a halt. “Head. If we’re too late, then...”

She nodded, looking up at him. Her bright orange eyes met his own dark red and a silent conversation seemed to take place between them before he nodded in response. She then turned to all of them, trotting on her horse.

“Demon, you take Scholar and Crow with you to the west side. I’ll take Bot and Doc over to the east. Go about the usual plan; Fan scan from the outside to the inside center. You find anything to hint at who was here, take it. You find anyone, keep them safe.” She paused, looking over all their faces to gauge their reactions if any. “We may be too late to save them all. But if there’s even one person left, then we can at least say we tried. Break up, Band, get to searching.”

Head reared her horse and the others followed, turning back to the path and breaking out into a gallop toward the rising plumes in the distance. As they rode, the group split into two: Demon at the front on his red horse followed closely by Scholar on her golden ride and Crow on his deathly white steed. Behind Head followed Bot on his gray warhorse and Doctor, his tan horse carrying him forward as well.

Once the group made through to a clearing, they split and each took a different route, Demon taking his group to the left and Head taking hers to the right. Before long, they were merely a speck in the distance, though it was hardly of worry to Head. She was concerned with the still burning village coming closer and closer into view. 

“Head.” Over the roar of the wind between them, Bot spoke up, facing forward as the aforementioned woman turned to him, questioningly. He simply pointed forward “There is a child on the road headed our way.”

Eyes widening, she turned to look where he was pointing and, sure enough, there was a small child limping on the side of the path leading away from the village. Upon hearing the thundering stride of the horses, he looked up, and Head could see the fear register on his face before he turned to run, only to trip and fall face-first into the dirt. 

Head eased her horse over to him, gesturing toward the village with a free hand. 

“Bot, Doc, keep on to the village. I’ll stick with him for now.” She told them. The two men nodded and kept moving, dust kicking up behind their hoses hooves as Head slid off of her horse deftly and knelt down close to the ground. The boy looked up at her and began to scoot away before wincing, holding onto his leg.

“Hey, kid. I’m not here to hurt you or anything,” She held her hands up, fingers splayed. He slowed down, though it didn’t quell the fear in his eyes. Head reached down to her waist and unclipped her belt, which housed a pair of matching guns, before tossing it off to the side, at least ten feet away from the both of them. “See? Not gonna hurt you. Promise.”

The boy stilled, his breathing labored as he looked her up and down. His skin was dark, scarred in a hundred places, and bleeding from half of those. His right leg looked unnaturally bent in the wrong direction. His eyes were wide with fear, though they looked mostly unharmed, save for the bags under his eyes that came with a lack of sleep. His hair was stark white, though whether it was natural or from stress or some other reason, Head couldn’t tell.

“Y-You sure?” He asked. His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. “N-No, seriously, y-you won’t hurt me...like, at all?”

“Not at all.” She confirmed with a nod. He still didn’t seem to trust her. “You look like you could use some help, kid. Those injuries are gonna slow ya down if you plan on runnin’.” 

He seemed to wince in response, clutching his busted leg as she gestured toward the ruined village.

“My friend, the one with the mask, can help you.” She offered, extending a hand. “He may not look it, but he’s a good doctor. He’ll have you right as rain in no time. Just let me help you up onto Malady here, alright?” 

The kid seemed to think about her words, glancing back toward the ruins of the village before looking at her again and nodding shyly.

“Pl-please. My family, they...” Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he reached forward for her outstretched hand. Head grasped it firmly and, in a swift motion, stood up, pulling the kid with her. He gasped as she took hold of him and picked him up as she stood. 

“There, there, kid. Take it slow, alright?” She carried him back to her horse, Malady, and eased him on before climbing on herself, pulling him close against her chest. “Start small. What’s your name?”

She mustered Malady into a slow trot as she pulled the reins closer, keeping an arm around the boy as they moved. He seemed to pause for a moment before answering.

“I-It’s Desmond. D-Desmond Whitechapel.” He murmured.

“Desmond. That’s a nice name. It’s nice to meet you, Desmond,” She told him, bending just low enough so he could see her smile. “My name’s Evelyn, but all my pals call me Head. You can call me that, too, s’that alright?”

“Head?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head. “That’s a weird name...” He droned off for a while before: “...are we pals?”

Head smiled, nodding.

“Sure, we can be pals, Desmond. I’ll introduce you to the rest of my friends, too, if you want.” She tapped his shoulder. Up ahead on the path, she could see a group of five horses coming toward them.

“Okay, sure...” Desmond replied, finally seeming to grow comfortable as he relaxed back against her. “Thank you, Head.”

She smiled down at him before reigning her horse in and waiting for the others to reach her. By the time they got to her, Desmond had fallen asleep, having apparently been exhausted and kept awake by simply adrenaline alone. Demon approached her on his horse first, looking down at Desmond before his eyes jumped back up to Head.

“He a survivor?” The man asked and when Head nodded, he shrugged. “Then he’s the only one. We scanned through the rest of the village; It’s completely empty. Not another living soul in sight.”

At her downtrodden look, Doctor trotted over to inspect the boy as the others formed together in a small circle. 

“So that’s it, then?” Head asked, looking around at everyone. “No one to find except a kid who looks like he’s gone through hell?”

Scholar shook her head sadly, gripping the reins on her steed with bone-white knuckles. 

“This whole village...empty. The fires are fresh and the bodies...” She shook her head, taking off her glasses to wipe away the tears welling up. “We were two⸺no, one day too late to save this village, Head. One day.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening. In the distance, Sonim continued to burn as they all huddled together again, letting the weight of their failure sink in.

“Like I said,” Head spoke up, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “If we save even just one person. We can say we tried. We tried, everyone. Let’s get Desmond back to the campsite for now. We can talk about our next move in the morning, once the boy is healed.”

The sun rose early the next morning. By the time Desmond was awake, the rest of the group were already up and moving, preparing breakfast, breaking down camp, and simply passing the time. 

“The boy has finally awoken!” A voice exclaimed, making Desmond jump. He expected the familiar pain in his leg but was surprised to not feel it. The man standing near him⸺the one with the big mask called the Doctor⸺clapped his hands excitedly. “It’s nice to see you up and awake, my boy. Head wishes to speak with you when you’re ready.”

He knelt down and thrust a plate of food into the boy’s hands. Desmond didn’t know what it was, but his stomach grumbled excitedly and, before he knew it, the plate was clear and his stomach had been filled. Finding his way around the campsite after that was surprisingly difficult; Every time he walked into one of the members, they pointed him in a different direction which simply led him to someone else who wasn’t Head. 

It took fifteen minutes before he found her behind the campsite, meditating. Before he had the chance to say anything, she turned to face him and smiled.

“Desmond! You’re looking well this morning,” She stood up, dusting off her pants, before making her way over to him. Once they stood across from one another, she knelt down to his level, the smile still plastered onto her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, better.” Desmond mumbled before adding; “My leg doesn’t hurt anymore. I told Doctor thank you.”

“Ah, good, good. He’s good at patching us all up.” The two of them fell quiet for a moment before Head opened her mouth to speak again, but Desmond cut her off.

“My family is gone, aren’t they?” He asked. Head pursed her lips before nodding solemnly. “Then can I stay with you guys?”

A sigh of relief left Head as she hung her head and nodded.

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you, Desmond. We’ll take care of you and, if you want, you can join our little group when you’re older. How does that sound?”

Desmond seemed to think on it a moment before he nodded slowly.

“Sure. I guess that’s fine.” The boy shrugged, turning away from her. “I guess you guys are my family now.”

Head stood up and ruffled the young boy’s hair before taking her own hat off and dropping it on his head.

“I guess we are, huh? That’s fine.” She smiled and gestured him forward as the two began to walk back to the campsite. “We’re all family here, Desmond. We’d love to have you.”