moonyscribbles

The horses’ hooves made hollow clomping sounds as they plodded down the packed-dirt path toward the old Resistance encampment. It made the perfect backdrop for how Jeb Cain felt: hollow and empty. The past eleven annuals had done much to destroy the young commander. No man witnesses the horrors that he had seen without growing completely numb. Jeb was no exception.

He didn’t feel victorious the day his troops soundly routed the Longcoats at the tower three annuals ago. He didn’t feel jubilant when the first charges were set off to bring Azkadellia’s tower to the ground on the anniversary of the Sorceress’ downfall. He didn’t rejoice with his father a few weeks ago when Wyatt had announced his engagement to a childhood friend with whom he had reconnected six months after the Eclipse. Jeb didn’t even feel jealous that his father was marrying again while Jeb simply couldn’t move on with his own life. There was nothing in his heart, not even spite for the man who, in Jeb’s mind, had started it all.

Zero.

Azkadellia, possessed by the Sorceress, may have been the chief instigator of evil, but Jeb identified Zero as the man who had destroyed his entire life before it was lived. It was Zero who had brought a squad of men to the Cain homestead, ripped Jeb from his mother’s arms, and imprisoned his father, among other unspeakable acts. After Jeb and his mother had been released, they’d joined with Wyatt’s old Resistance cell and Jeb spent several annuals engaging in skirmishes and wading through the aftermath of Longcoat cruelty, most of which was done by Zero’s men, according to any survivors. Then came the three annuals after the Eclipse, in which Captain Jeb Cain of the Royal Army experienced his first, and hopefully his last, real war. It didn’t matter that the former Longcoat captain may have been locked in a Tin Suit at the time; in Jeb’s sometimes irrational mind, it still all came back to Zero.

Jeb couldn’t remember at which point he’d lost his heart, but it certainly had happened somewhere along the way. He spent so much of himself on his hatred for Zero over the annuals that it eventually overcame his capacity to feel anything else. Each patrol, each scouting trip, and each skirmish reinforced that hatred. It had cost Jeb his relationship with the one woman with whom he could have shared a very happy life. That breakup was another one of Zero’s casualties, and another reason to hate. Soon, the bitter taste of hatred lessened and Jeb became incapable even of malice for the one man who truly deserved it.

Even now, as the squad slowly made its way back to their old camp, where the last remaining Iron Maiden stood, Jeb felt nothing. As they neared their objective, there wasn’t even the slightest twinge of satisfaction, not even a modicum of anger. Jeb just sat woodenly in his saddle, empty eyes focused in front of him.

The company pulled up in front of their old shelter, most of them feeling an odd nostalgia for the place they had once called home. None of them had been back since the Eclipse. They hadn’t had the time. They quickly got swept up in the campaign to retake the Zone from the nefarious influences that had overrun it. It had been a three-annual struggle, and they had finally come to the point that they could tie up the loose ends, like apprehending the most heinous Longcoat of them all.

Jeb dismounted and coolly motioned to his men to bring the handcuffs and shackles. They cautiously approached the last remaining vestige of the Sorceress’ tyranny, unsure of what they might find when they opened its heavy door. The Iron Maiden stood before them, tall and imposing, chilling the blood of those who had survived the Reign of Terror with their hearts even remotely intact.

With his mouth set in a firm, thin line, Jeb took the remaining steps toward the Maiden and woodenly pulled at the pin holding the clasp in place. It was rusted slightly but the oxidization gave way easily to the pressure. He took a deep breath and swung open the door.

Zero tumbled to the ground, gasping for the fresh air after having been deprived of its sweetness for more than three annuals. He distantly heard the sound of someone snapping their fingers before he was pulled roughly to his feet. The cold steel of the cuffs and shackles bit at his skin. He looked up, squinting, and was not surprised to be faced with several men in bright red uniform coats astride well-fed horses.

Jeb watched from behind as Zero was restrained. Jeb kept waiting for the once-familiar bile to rise from his belly, but it never came. There was no disappointment, either. There was only an emptiness sitting in his soul. He exhaled deeply before approaching his horse and swinging into the saddle.

Zero paled at his first sight of Jeb since being locked away in the Maiden. Then he smirked, his trademark evil half-grin playing across his grizzled features.

“Sir,” said a lieutenant, “there’s no horse for the suspect to ride.”

“Suspect?” shot Jeb.

“Well, we are bringing him in for a trial.”

“Only as a formality. My father’s testimony alone will earn Zero a lifetime reservation in a jail cell somewhere in the underbelly of Central City.” Jeb tossed a thick chain to the lieutenant. “Attach this to the cuffs. He’s walking. And make sure his hands are empty.”

Zero grimaced as the lieutenant found the right pressure points to force his hands open. He wasn’t holding anything, of course, but he didn’t feel like being compliant. The chains were fastened with a sharp click and the other end was handed to another soldier.

Thus began the long trek back to Central City, the seat of the new government under the House of Gale. It was a three-day journey at their walking pace, but Jeb couldn’t manage the sadistic desire necessary to increase the tempo. Zero spent his waking hours glaring daggers at Jeb’s back as he was tugged along at the end of his leash.

When they stopped to make camp each night, they chained Zero to a tree. They kept a constant watch. Only once, on the last night of their journey, did Jeb take a shift to watch and the conversation was anything but pleasant.

“Ah, the wayward son,” sneered Zero malevolently. “It seems you’ve finally moved out from your daddy’s shadow.”

Jeb said nothing. His eyes never wavered from Zero’s face.

“Or maybe you haven’t.”

“By now you must have gathered that you’re under arrest,” said Jeb in a calm, almost clinical tone. “You’re to be taken to Central City to stand trial for your crimes against the people of the Outer Zone. Your conviction is a foregone conclusion. After your trial, you will be transferred to a prison in an undisclosed location where you will live out the rest of your pathetic life. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is far more merciful than you deserve.”

“Why you?” asked Zero, his voice hardening. “Why did they send you to collect me? How could they be sure that you wouldn’t kill me before we ever got there.”

“They don’t. Look, let’s get one thing straight, right now. I don’t care anymore about what happens to you. I’ve got plenty of blood on my hands, and regardless of what you’ve done, I won’t add yours to it. My men might have a few creative interrogation techniques they’d like to use on you, but I’m under orders to bring you back to the City in no worse condition than I find you. Be grateful that you have the undeserved sympathy of the Queen.”

“That must tear you up, not being able to lay a hand on me. I seem to remember you having a vindictive sense of humor the last time I saw you.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t give a damn about you. And, regardless of my sense of humor, I won’t soil my hands or my reputation with your murder. I owe it to your victims, including my mother, to make sure that you’re given the justice they were denied.”

Zero gave Jeb a calculating look, trying to read the young man who spoke so calmly and with such measured precision. He found it hard to believe that the person before him was the same whining kid from the cabin so long ago. The annuals had been anything but kind, to either of them.

The rest of Jeb’s four-hour watch passed in an uneasy silence between the two men. Zero spent the last night on the road as sleeplessly as the first. The restraints made it impossible for him to find a comfortable niche in the roots of the tree to which he’d been chained, and he’d never been able to sleep with someone watching him, not even his wives.

The last leg of their trip was short and they arrived at the barracks in Central City at midday. Jeb made sure that Zero was secured before reporting to the Queen, who informed him that he had earned a much deserved week of leave. Before she dismissed him, she told him the one thing that he’d wanted to hear.

“Oh, and Captain,” she said with a small smile, “Zero’s trial will begin in three days.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll be sure to attend.”

“Your father has submitted his deposition. Is there anything that you would like to add to the record?”

“Would I be called to testify if I did?”

“It is likely.”

“Then no, I don’t.”

The Queen looked at him, one eyebrow raised, and tried to see beyond the mask of passivity to what might lie underneath it. Even she could find nothing behind the blank and cold green eyes. She nodded.

“Thank you again, Captain Cain, for your loyal service.”

“It’s my honor, Your Majesty.”

Jeb turned snapped a smart salute then turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Three days later he found himself sitting in an echoing hall filled with all manner of people: peasants, officers in the Royal Army, newly restored gentry, even a few visiting dignitaries. All had come to witness the last Longcoat come to his reckoning. Hours passed as Jeb listened to the handful of witnesses who were still capable of testifying to the terrible evils Zero had committed. The last was Wyatt Cain. His story ensured that every person listening wept openly, every person save one. But no one noticed Jeb’s lack of reaction to his father’s testimony. They were all captivated by Wyatt’s words.

At the end of the day, Zero was given an opportunity to speak for himself, an opportunity that he declined. The panel of magistrates took very little time in deliberation before handing down their verdict and sentence. Guilty on all counts, Zero would spend the rest of his life in prison.

When the chief magistrate finished his speech, chaos erupted on the heels of a sharp noise. Shouts and screams sounded through the chamber as the members of the guard rushed to their positions around the royal family. Panicked citizens pushed for the exits. The room cleared in short order.

When the chaos subsided, Zero’s advocate was hovering over his body. He was on the ground, a pool of blood issuing from the bullet hole through his heart. The wound was instantly fatal.

At that moment, something in Jeb broke. Whatever dam had been holding back the tide of his emotions crumbled as the first tear trickled down his cheek. He sank to the floor as the hardness from the annuals of anger and hatred began to melt away. His father was suddenly beside him and Wyatt pulled Jeb into a strong embrace.

“It’s over,” whispered the father softly as he rocked his son like he had when Jeb had been a child. “It’s over.”

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