Bred by the Bushmen

“You think this is the answer?” asked Caleb.

“I don’t care.”

“Well, you fucking need to care. You’re all I have, Damon!”

“I’m not strong like you. I have feelings. I just want to forget everything.”

Caleb grabbed him by the scruff, bringing his slumped body straight. “I’m not strong. I’m a mess, Damon. But I keep going on, and do you know why? Because of you. I’m being strong for you!”

He looked at his brother. Really looked at him. In all his pain, he never considered his older brother and the same loss he’d endured. Damon had been selfish, only considering himself.

“What do I do?” Damon asked, feeling like a shell of his former self.

“You keep going. One day at a time. We’ll do it together,” said Caleb. “But no more drinking. Understand?”

His faculties slowly returned as reality began to come into focus. Damon brought a hand to his head, and he wasn’t sure if the wetness was booze or blood. Maybe both.

****

It was time to get shit handled. Caleb cocked his rifle, the muzzle right at the man’s temple. “Drop the bottle and step back. Nice and slow, asshole.”

He dropped the broken bottle neck and put his hands halfway up as he complied. “You must be Caleb.”

“You know my name. That doesn’t bode well for you. I like my privacy.”

“Nothing personal. Just a job.”

“You fuck with my brother, it’s personal,” said Caleb. “Stand there. Don’t move.”

He reached down and helped Damon to his feet. His brother was a brick house, so to see him swaying on his feet showed how hard he’d been hit on the head. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I won’t drink again.”

He frowned. “Damon, snap out of it.” Caleb gave his brother a little slap on the cheek. “Where’s Opal?”

Hearing her name seemed to bring some sense back to his brother. “Opal. She’s in the house.” Just then a shot rang off inside the cabin.

“Fuck.” Caleb grabbed the arm of the trespasser and pulled him along as he raced to the front of the house with Damon. Once on the wraparound porch, he shoved the trespasser into his brother’s arms. “Here, hold him.”

Caleb got his rifle at the ready before kicking the front door in. He froze in place when he saw the fat bastard lying on the floor and Opal still holding a gun with her arms outstretched. It was an eerie scene, but he still felt the flood of relief seeing Opal alive and well.

He set his rifle down and took the handgun from her, prying her fingers apart one by one. “Opal, look at me.” She was in shock, her body rigid and eyes glazed over. “Opal, it’s okay now.”

Caleb cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips.

“I shot a man.”

“I’m sure he deserved it.” He kissed her again before leading her to the sofa to sit down. She was shaky and needed time to come to grips with the horror of what she’d been through.

Caleb used his boot to roll the body over. The pig had a bullet wound to the shoulder, but he’d live. At least Opal wouldn’t have to live with any guilt that she was a murderer.

“How’d he get out of the chair, baby?” asked Damon.

“He had a pocket knife. When he stood up I just shot him without thinking. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” she said.

“Are you kidding? I’m glad you did it.” Damon shoved the other man to the floor beside his friend, but nearly toppled over himself. He was covered in blood, his face stained red.

“Damon, sit with Opal. You have a concussion and you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Another shot rang off, making Opal squeal. Caleb nodded, pleased with his handwork as the second man fell down and grabbed his knee. “That’s my insurance policy. Neither of you move a fucking muscle until the cops get here.”

He got on the phone and called the cops. It would take them at least a couple hours to get to their neck of the woods, but they had the time. There were only two trespassers, so now that they were debilitated, Caleb was in control again. That was the last time he made a town run on his own. He’d brought back enough supplies and batteries to get them through until spring.

“Who hired you?” he asked, aiming his gun at the skinny man’s good knee.

“I don’t know. It was just some guy at the dock. He was paid a pretty penny to get rid of you two. Said he’d give us a thousand dollars if we took care of it for him.”

“Why us?”

“I don’t know.”

Caleb twisted the end of his rifle into the fresh wound. The man squealed like a pig. “You better know something.”

“Something about trees! Fuck, we just wanted the easy money.”

“If you were willing to kill two innocent men for cash, then you both deserve to rot in jail for the rest of your lives.”