Murderer #5
#71 of Prequel
If you didn't expect Skooma would make an appearance, shame on you. Of course it does.
"That's much better. Asshole eh? Yeah, good choice really. You could get raped and, unless they're really kinky, you'd still have it. Plus they'd have to get stinky. How much?"
"Twenty," she said.
"Hmph," he said. "Twenty. Lady, I've seen boys half your size stuff at least 50 up there. But thanks. You're a smart lady. Keep it."
The sigh of relief was quite sincere. She would be essentially completely broke without that, and she'd been broke before. The word didn't convey the feeling nearly well enough, but it was appropriate. When you're truly broke, you are broken. And it's hard as hell to climb back out of broken.
"Now, he said, and he reached for her back. Let's get this off of you. Don't worry, I really am honest. I'm not going to bother you."
In a moment he had the bondage free and she unwrapped herself, then put the shirt back on.
"Well, Honest John," she said, trying to recover some dignity, "if you've seen enough..."
"Not enough for my preference, but it's all you got. I know the feeling. Not exactly packing a serpent myself, but it gets the job done. So, where you headed? Need some company?"
"WHAT? You rob me and now you expect me to continue with you?"
"Never know. It's a wild world out here. I might get killed by something. Then you can get all your loot back. Besides, it's not like you're going to report me to the Imperial Legion, are you? You're on the run."
"Maybe," she admitted.
"Yup, what I thought. Come on, I can at least keep the worse robbers from hitting you up again. And they're more likely to take more than your stuff. Might like little kitty titties too. You're better off with me, I'm telling you..."
She stood up and brushed off the dirt. "I'll do fine. I just won't leave the road again!"
"Think that'll help?" he said, as he handed her the much-lighter backpack.
She shrugged.
"It won't. Not unless you stick by a Legionnaire, or a caravan. And there aren't any caravans today, and... well... Legionnaires ask questions."
She considered her options.
"Good," the highwayman said. "You're thinking. I knew you were a smart cat."
"Don't call me a cat," she said, growling.
"Fine. What do I call you?"
"Don't. But okay. Thanks, I guess."
"Then I'll call you... Doll. For your doll you like so much."
"Honest John, I've been awake all night. I'm sleepy as hell."
"Oh! Say no more. Curl up right here. I'll keep an eye out for you. Not like I'm in a hurry. I've made enough today."
"Off of me!"
The big man shrugged. "Sorry lass, you were easy. Easy is a highwayman's best friend. Weeks go by without finding an Easy. But I've got relatives over near Anvil that could use a bit of this coin. You go to sleep, then we'll head that way."
Odd as it seemed, it was the best option she had. She curled up at the base of the tree and slept.
Five minutes later, she awoke screaming. Honest John had his hands over her mouth as soon as she'd started.
"Hush cat! Want the whole Imperial Legion on us? What the fuck is wrong with you?" he said as quietly as his anger would allow.
She nodded and he removed his hands.
"Don't call me cat," she said again.
"Nightmare?" he asked, to which she nodded. Her head was still bleary.
"I had those before. Here," he said, rummaging through another pocket. He produced a small vial. "Drink a drop of this."
She held it up, uncertain. "What is it?" she asked while sniffing at it.
"Skooma. Don't touch the stuff myself anymore. But I keep some around. Comes in handy if you break a leg or something out here."
Skooma. Of course. She should have guessed. But she was so tired.
"Aren't you supposed to smoke it or something?" she asked.
"That's the best way. But this is a good alternative when you need a quick hit."
Ra'Jirra shuddered, remembering the thing that awaited her in her dream. "Fuck it," she said, and downed the vial.
"HOLY SHIT! God dammit lady, you just killed yourself! Oh fuck. You just drink a drop or two! What kind of idiot..." said Honest John, standing up with horror on his face.
She felt funny. The world started spinning and her ears stopped working.
"Killed myself," she thought as the colors in her eyes began to spin. "Figures. All that work, for nothing. I should have turned myself in. Sorry S'thengir. Sorry Katia. Sorry Mom. I fucked up."
Her last thought was that at least the skull hadn't followed her into wherever she was going. And then her consciousness disappeared for a while.