Orion's Belt - A Dark Sci-Fi Western Romance

“Maybe you’ll find something to live for one of these days.”

He laughs at me. “I knew it. You’re in love with that girl.”

“I am not in love with anyone,” I growl. “Lost my arm. Don’t intend to lose my heart too.”

Chapter Four

Josie

We’re heading north. Today, at least, I have my own horse, but damn if riding on a whipped rear isn’t one of the more painful things I’ve done in my life. Orion insists I stay close behind his horse, which is a hell of a job because his horse really doesn’t like my horse up close and keeps kicking out.

There are a couple riders up ahead of us, keeping an eye on what’s coming down the road. Most of the posse is strung out in a series of bunches, three or four men in each one. Orion probably wouldn’t like the comparison, but he travels like a military tactician in the Imperium army. Everybody has a place, and there’s a reason for every decision made.

I thought these men were wild outlaws, but they’re organized down to the micro level. When my mother and I made our way south, our journey was rough and mostly comprised of hitching rides on passing wagons and the occasional train. Sometimes the drivers knew we were there, but most of the time, not. I’ve never traveled in such a protected way before, and I have to say I like it.

I’ve been alone a long time, hiding and hoping for some chance at escaping this miserable excuse for a life. Every time I look up at the night sky and see the bright sparks of other suns burning far in the distance, I feel hope. That’s not an emotion I’ve ever felt in the sweltering heat and light of a Cabbage Patch day — until now, when I look at the big broad shoulders riding in front of me, and know that until we reach the ranch, I’m under Orion’s protection.

Safe feels good. Warm and cozy, but without all the sweat you get from the sun’s warmth. These are rough, lawless men, but riding with them is surprisingly peaceful. I should be afraid of them but I’m not.”

“Rion!”

Paris comes riding up from the rear. He’s younger than Orion, has endless energy and an intensity which I find compelling, if not a little intimidating. He’s scary, but in a different way than Orion who is all alpha energy and natural power. Paris has a wildness to him that makes me wonder if he’s really safe.

“We have riders on the horizon!” He shouts the words with a wide grin, gesticulating behind us, where sure enough at least half a dozen riders are coming over the hills we just left. I don’t know why he’s smiling, because this has to be bad news.

“Think they’ve been sent by Atticus?” Orion shouts back.

“We stole his fiancee from the train tracks he tied her to, and now we’re riding toward the ranch he’s planning on trying to steal. But, then again, you did rob the Slitneck kid last night, so it could be them. Or it could be any one of the dozens of people we’ve crossed, double-crossed, or murdered family members over the years.”

I wonder how Paris gets away with being such a smart mouth to Orion, who barely seems to register it.

“Take a couple guns to see if they’re looking for us. I’m going to take the girl and get her out of here.”

“Out of where? This is open ground. If they’re coming for us, we’ll do what we always do. Kill them,” I pipe up. The ‘always’ part is maybe a little presumptuous seeing as I only started riding with these men yesterday, but I have a feeling I’m more or less accurate.

“Contrary to what you might think,” he growls at me, “we do not murder a host of people every day of our lives.”

“That might change now I’m with you. Atticus isn’t going to let me live. You’re going to earn that ranch, mister.”

“Mister?” He laughs. “Well, it is probably about time I earned something. Let’s ride. Git up!”

The horses respond immediately, turning the easy trit-trot to a hard gallop, the thunder of hooves traveling across the valley creating an echo which comes rolling back from the hills to envelop us in the sound of our flight. There is a drama to the moment which makes a smile spread over my lips even though I know this is not a good thing. Only Orion could make fleeing the law feel like a bold charge toward destiny.

“They’re coming!” The call comes from behind. Then, in the distance, we hear the crack of pistols. I’m not sure if that’s Orion’s men shooting, or if the sheriff’s men have decided to just take pot shots on the off chance we are who they are looking for. How could they possibly know at this distance? We are fleeing, but anybody could be fleeing.