Sacred Scars (Book I)

One Of The Family

*Warning* Mention of rape and captivity

     It was rare that the prestigious Dutch Van der linde went on a ride with his boys now a days. He usually just sent them out like dark riders into the night, to fetch or steal whatever it was the camp needed or wanted. But this night he tagged along. Lined up beside Arthur and John, Charles and Javier. They rode under the cover of glittering stars, shadow horsemen trailing the apocalypse.

      Around them the air was deathly still. Birds were hushed, save the lone owl singing eerily to the pale orbed moon. The horses beneath them padded more like wolves through the night then stallions, trotting over the railroad tracks and soft straw of the fields between Horseshoe and Valentine.

     Their target was the steep cliffs, just north west of the sleeping little town. There, the four men from the O'driscolls had already met up with another dozen or so cutthroats hidden deep inside the skyscraper rocks that formed an impressive maze of caverns.

     Doc and Colt rode in first, barley stopping the horses in their excitement while entering the dark mouth of the cave. Behind them walked Walt, drawing all eyes from the surrounding family of thieves to look up and stand expectantly. "Did ya get it?" The growl of a burly statue of a man hollered just beyond the campfire light to Walt as he approached, thumbs through his belt beaming with arrogance. "Oh yeah. We got it awlrite." Behind him walked Clayton, Lilah's motionless body swinging from his back like the wound pendulum of a grandfather clock. Only her hair moved, swishing back and forth against his burly shoulder, a curtain of black silk.

     Clayton walked over to the makeshift pallet of hay and bedrolls, and plopped her unceremoniously to the ground. She fell with a thud, crashing back against the thin film of hay. Her eyes squeezed shut in pain and she rolled her neck back and forth blinking away the fog that clouded her head. When her eyes managed to focus, she was met with a sea of O'driscolls. The bunch of them looking down at her like a fleet of hungry jackals. Eyes wide, she shuffled best she could up on her rump, pulling her knees into her chest and scooching across the floor. She was rewarded with a faint song of laughter from the men watching on like she was the presented entertainment from some secret demented performance.

     It was Clayton that finally walked over and knelt beside her. An ugly grin tapered his mouth. One grimy hand reached out, feathering the girl's hair from her face gently. Were it not for the cruelty in his eyes, one would imagine it as an almost kindness.

     He shuffled on his feet a little closer, hunching down to rest a relaxed arm over one knee. "Now don't you worry baby doll, ain't none these fellas gonna hurt cha. You're way too special for that." His voice oozed as he stroked a slim finger down the side of her cheek. She tucked her chin to her chest, shrinking away from his touch. Her puzzled eyes blinked up at him, dancing red and green against the brilliant glow of the fire. Confused, she watched as he pulled a rolled up paper from inside his coat and peeled it flat where she could see. "Ya sees this cupcake? This is your ticket to freedom. This little slip of paper here warrants you a bran'new life. We are all your family now." He stretched his arms wide circling it around to the gathering of gangsters in humble demonstration. When she finally looked down at the paper, she paused reading the words scratched in black across its surface.

Birth Certification.

We hereby present the born presence of Miss Lilah Anne O'driscoll.

 Mother-Jackie Swanson....

Father- Colm O'driscoll. Born February 22 1875.

     Lilah looked up at the man's eyes. Her own eyes growing watery and wide against her pale face. She shook her head no, as if to say it wasn't her. But somewhere inside she knew the man wasn't lying. She had lost her mother a long time ago, but the one thing she did remember was constantly running. Bouncing from one town to another. They never stayed long, until they reached Valentine. Lilah had gone by many names over the course of 13 years with her mother. The last one being Preston. A name Jackie had actually swiped off a coffee tin in the dry goods store. Preston Coffee-what wakes you up!, the can had read along its metal lid. And that's where the names had stopped. It was also the last name she knew before her mother had died. The sickness took her only three years after they had found Valentine. Lilah had been left behind at the saloon to fend for herself, keeping the name. It was the only thing left that her mother had given her. That, and the striking green color of her eyes. She never spoke of her father to her. A touchy subject that when once approached, she was met with the simple statement that he was dead to them. And for all purposes he was. He had left them years ago not even knowing the rape/robbery had left behind a walking dark haired legacy. It wasn't until years later he had heard news of the child, and as he had grown older, the desire to teach someone of his wretched legacy only grew. She would become a mother to the boys he had raised in his gang. She would one day lead them to fortune and glory well beyond the dreams of her ole man. And she would do all this compliantly by his side. There simply was no other choice for her.

     She continued to shake her head, shutting her eyes in a stifled wail of grief. She knew who the O'driscolls were. They had always been around Valentine since she was little. She had no idea they watched and waited these last few months, Colm finally pinpointing who she really was, his men on edge for their leader's command to strike. The old gangster had just surveyed her. Keeping her at arm's length until the time was right to make his move. Now, was that time.

     The shady outlaw rolled the paper back up tucking it in his coat, then pulled the coat from his arms and draped it around her shoulders with a soft pat. "Daddy will be here soon punkin. Don't you fret your pretty little head." He took her chin in his thumb and finger, lifting her eyes back up to meet his. "We're gonna have a real good time you and I." He promised rubbing a hand across his mud washed face.

      He let her go and rose, joining the rest of the boys as they chattered and cheered. The treasure was home. The master returning. All was well. Lilah bowed her head...and cried.