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howdy-cowpoke · 5 months

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TIMING: Friday, 4/19 (Monty’s birthday! Oops!) LOCATION: Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Jade (@highoctanegem) SUMMARY: Jade pays a visit to Monty on the farm, but it's meant to be their last. CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use

—

The math had never ever mathed more. (2+2 should be shaking in its boots, in fact). Jade almost thought she was playing with a cheat code when all those lame hunters at The Three Daggers started grumbling about some farm filled with undead near the death pit. The little tip almost made up for the fact everyone in there preferred ABBA over the A-Teens.

Right, irrelevant. (But actually, the A-Teens were never irrelevant in her heart).

The point was, she didn’t even have to ask where said farm was located, cause she was positive she already knew anyway. Actually, she’d already visited once. So why not pay an old friend a visit? And maybe this sudden need to take on this side quest came from a need for a big moment, what about it? Maybe she had been in a bit of a flop era (one that could be dated several years back, hypothetically). Something something about her ego constantly getting beat down. Metzli. The banshees. And well, Regan too… in a different way. So what if she was doing this to feel better about herself? She was also putting a stop to a very obvious problem threatening Wicked’s Rest population. Two undead birds (or like, dozens) and one stone (several knives and a gun) (She was gonna have to work on that analogy).

Jade showed up to Prickly Pear Acres dressed as one of their own. Throwing ‘howdys’ and tipping her hat (that she bought at a costume shop) at everyone who wished her a good day. It was a very polite group, she had to admit, despite her skin thrumming in their presence. And see! Everybody was so quick to judge her commitment to ridding the town of the undead. They always assumed she like, despised the creatures she’d vowed to cull. It was so not like that at all? It was never personal. Case in point, Monty was the metaphorical father to her pride and joy. Her Lullaby. Why would she have anything against him? Nope. It was just that she had to uphold the Bloodworth’s code and this big farm concealing something that was totally starting to feel like a horde the more she sauntered around the field was a stepping stone in her journey. Similar to how every pop girly had to have a feat with a problematic rapper to appeal to a different audience. Simple as that.

Eventually, Jade found her way toward the big main house. (And yup, she did get distracted with all the adorable animals. Sometimes multitasking existed, alright?). She did not plan on starting little. Big prizes only. Her mind was set on Monty before she could think of going down the metaphorical food chain. Thinking too long about food as it pertained to zombies wasn’t something she wanted to do, actually.

She didn’t barge inside the residence. She had like, manners and stuff. But she did tap on the window and stared from outside in a totally non-creepy way as she spotted the man of the hour. She waved at him enthusiastically, beckoning him outside.

—

Things on the farm had been… chaotic.

No. That was putting it mildly. They'd been fucking awful, and Monty had no one to blame but himself. He'd not believed the threats he'd been getting, and his poor animals had paid the price of that hubris. So many of them were brutally slaughtered, and he couldn't—no. No more of that. Wallowing would solve nothing.

The man of the hour, as he would've been very embarrassed to know he was thought of, was just emerging from the master bedroom downstairs when he spotted movement in one of the windows. Plopping his hat down on his head, he smiled tiredly when he realized who it was, returning the wave and giving a nod. He grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall and headed to the front door, shrugging it on as he opened it and stepped out onto the porch.

“Buenos días, amiga,” he greeted Jade with a grin that might have been a bit lacking in the usual warmth. “What brings you here today, ah? I was just about to go take Nero for a run… come! Walk with me.” He'd spent just about every afternoon with his horse since that night, recalling the terror that had gripped his unbeating heart as he raced to Habanero's stall, dreading the worst. But the Thoroughbred was fine, if not a little spooked, and he hadn't had yet another loss to mourn yet.

Motioning in the direction of the horse stables with a jerk of his head, he took a step and waited for Jade to fall in beside him and explain why she'd come. “Is Lullaby all right?”

—

“Buenos!” Jade replied, her head bobbing with enthusiasm, bringing two fingers to her forehead for a salute. Despite his grin (the type that didn’t reach all the way to his eyes), Monty looked a little rough. But like, who wouldn’t look a little worse for wear if you had to sustain yourself with brains? Tragic, wasn’t it? But Jade could help with that. She would help with that. She’d erase that tired look on his face. The how was just… a small detail. (Don’t even worry about it)

Jade was momentarily thrown off by the mention of his horse. Cause, look… She could’ve been a horse girl in another life, okay? If she hadn’t grown surrounded by weapons and hunter codes, if her life had been different, she could’ve been a horse girl. She would’ve loved being one. The first time she rode one, (just like, a couple months ago in that weird silent stable) was the freaking best time of her life. So duh! She definitely wanted to say hi to Monty’s horse. “I was in the neighborhood,” she circled around… the acres of field. “Metaphorically. I was visiting a friend in the death pit” she pulled her lips together into a frown, cause she was sad for her imaginary dead friend and all. “And I thought, why don’t I stop by… and see if my bud has any more adorable kitties up for adoption?” That might just save his life again, actually. Nope, wait. Priorities. Focus.

“I can’t say no to Habanero time. Plus! you know, if any of your other babies are safe for a beginner, I’d love to join you on that walk. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks, days even, I’d love to just, sway a little bit,” Jade blew a dramatic sigh, falling into step. It wasn’t so hard, cause Monty wasn’t that much taller than her. (Her leg did feel a little stiff from the recently healed wound in her belly). “Oh! Lullaby is perfect. She’s the best cat in the world, and she has a twin now! My… friend gave him to me,” she pulled out her phone, from the big coat she wore for the only purpose of concealing her blades, and the gun. And whoops, she needed to change that lock screen, didn’t she? Maybe tomorrow, or like, next month. (No rush, Regan would stay gone). She searched through her photos, until she found one of her babies and turned the screen toward Monty to show him. “There they are, Lullaby and Melody” she smiled sweetly at the loves of her life. (The ones that couldn’t leave her). They were being especially cuddly with her these days, cause she was probably reeking pathetic girl scent.

Jade pocketed her phone and happily walked with Monty, eyes darting around, scouting the area. To the untrained eye, it might just look like her being super curious. It wasn’t too long a walk until they reached the stables. This was so convenient, actually. It was like Monty also got the script. (What a good scene partner). “You have a lotta people working here, huh? Is it like, one huge family to you?”

—

“Oh.” He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. “I am… sorry for your loss.” Visiting someone in the death pit seemed a strange custom, but then he supposed it was no more strange than visiting a grave. This grave just happened to be shared with many, many other people. And it had recently caved in on itself a bit. “You should be careful out there, the ground seems to be swallowing itself and I do not think it would be good for your health to fall in.” And who knew what sorts of beasts might linger in the underdark? Still he smiled, shaking his head. “Afraid I do not have any more kittens for you though. Maybe next time.” Only if another stray pregnant cat happened upon the farm, since Señora had been fixed since her last litter.

His smile actually brightened somewhat when she expressed interest in riding with him and he gave a quick nod. “Ah, yes! Manzanita is the perfect horse for beginners! I would love to have you come with.” He glanced at the phone as it was turned to him, expression softening at the sight of the cats. “That’s great, I’m glad she has a buddy! They’re very cute together.”

After the pair had arrived at the stables and Monty had started the process of getting Habanero saddled up, Jade asked him a question he didn’t rightly expect, but one he supposed shouldn’t have come as a surprise. A part of him felt a little guilty for feeling even the tiniest hint of suspicion, because Jade had never been anything other than kind to him. It was all this business with the night market and the threatening letters he’d been getting… after what had happened the night Kaden almost died, he was overly anxious about questions regarding the farm and the people that lived and worked there.

But this was Jade! There was no need for concern.

“It has become that over time, yes,” he agreed, smoothing out the blanket over Nero’s back. The blood bay craned his neck and nosed at Monty’s head, pushing his hat askew and nibbling at his long hair. The cowboy seemed unbothered, just smiling and letting the horse do what he pleased, focused on his task. “We take in… strays, as it were. People with no place else to go and with no one else to turn to. Help get them back on their feet. Many of them choose to stay and live here.” He glanced over at Jade before tightening one of the straps around the horse’s middle. “I found it difficult to connect with people for a long time, but the folks here… they have grown on me.”

—

Jade shrugged over her imaginary loss, not wanting to put Monty in an awkward position (not yet at least). “It's totally chill, it was her last wish. She said, and I quote: I finna be in the pit” She wiped her face for a fake tear, looking up at Monty when he offered advice. Aw. She really did like Monty. But there was no room for sentimentality when you were a hunter. Developing affections only led to failure to complete one's duty (Onyx, circa 2008). It made you sloppy weak sauce (Jasper, same circa). “It was looking pretty bad, I don’t think I’ll be returning… you have nothing to worry about,” she promised with a similar smile. That wasn’t exactly a promise she’d keep though (and provided this day unfolded as expected, he wouldn’t be here to check anyway). The death pit was like, an all-you-can-eat buffet for the undead. It was literally her obligation to do something about it. Then she sighed, a little disappointed to hear about the lack of kittens. Alright then, no saving grace for Monty. Bummer. It was fine. She had to keep her head in the game. It was the best for both of them.

Oh, speaking of distractions. Well, Manzanita would be there, how could she say no to that? Jade perked up, for several reasons. Actually, that would make it way easier to snipe Monty. She never liked her chances when combat was involved. But to shoot him at a distance? Maybe even with his back to her? Perfect. He’d never suspect a thing. (She’d never get to see the realization dawn on his face) (Which, she weirdly cared about, for whatever reason). She simply smiled at his observation of her adorable cats, cause duh! Of course they were. It was still super nice when people agreed though. She’d make sure to tell them when she… visited them. Times were tricky, she didn’t need the reminder that she couldn’t spend every waking hour with them anymore. Nope, forget about that, her mind was already shifting into slayer mode.

(She did have to stop herself one last time from vibrating when she caught a glimpse of Manzanita, though)

Her lips stretched into a sweet smile, the spark not quite reaching her eyes when Monty began spilling tea about his farm. Confirming all the rumors hunters were gossiping about at the bar. And there it was, again, the whole being a good monster thing Metzli drilled into her skull. Monty talked about people having nowhere to go and no one to turn to, so of course he stepped in to help rehabilitate zombies. Was he making sure everybody was living by his codes too? And actually, she had no clue what Monty’s codes were. He could be feeding on humans despite his sunny disposition. She knew something about being two-faced! And even if he did follow a similar mentality as Metzli, was he making sure all these zombies were playing nice too?

Jade hummed, tilting her head in consideration, watching him get Habanero ready and then move on to Manzanita. It would be weirder if she didn’t bring up the undead situation of it all, right? She let out a chuckle, pacing toward Monty. She still wanted to give friendly, not predator vibes. “That’s so cute, found family is like… a goated trope,” she pursed her lips, waiting for Monty to look at her before continuing. Her gaze narrowed, piercing through brown eyes. “I heard the craziest rumor, the other day…” she huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she did a quick mental inventory of every weapon she was carrying. She cared the most about where exactly her holster was attached to her belt. She couldn’t fumble. “I bet you’ve heard it too! This town I swear. What are you planning on doing about the whole ‘this farm is full of zombies’ stuff? It popped up on… TikTok! You’re gonna need like, a strong PR. My advice? You make fun of it. In on the joke and all,” and actually, depending on his answer, maybe the stables were already the perfect scenario to pull the trigger. Metaphorically and literally. Her problem with Metzli had been that she’d extended her monologue for too many pages, allowing for doubt to creep in. See she learned!

—

There it was again. A question Monty didn't expect on a subject he was loath to discuss with others. Not until he knew he could trust them. And as much as he liked Jade, how much could he trust her? How much did he know her?

The cowboy swallowed his fear and kept his gaze steady and locked with hers, manifesting a somewhat bemused expression and letting it slip over his soft features. “Oh… is that what they are calling migrant workers these days?” So there was a rumor. Whether or not it meant anything to Jade personally, there was a rumor. This was bad, very bad. He itched to pull out his phone and text Kaden at once, but he couldn't. It might look suspicious, and he was still on the fence of whether or not he could trust Jade. “Well, I do not think such claims will mean much in the face of the truth,” he answered coolly, mustering every ounce of his former bravery to keep him from showing his anxiety. He reached for the man he’d been before he’d died. The kind of man that would throw himself on the blade to protect those he cared about. Daisy was in his thoughts as he finished saddling up Manzanita. Beth, too. Denver, Dallas, Ford, and all the rest were all he could think about as he turned again to Jade, reins in hand. “Shall we ride?”

He chose not to bring the subject up again, waiting to see if she would. There was no point in it if she thought it was a ridiculous claim, and if she didn’t think it was absurd, time would reveal her intentions. That was part of the reason why he’d decided to take them on a ride away from the farm, rather than around its perimeter. If this turned bad, he didn’t want his people to be in danger. She might just be asking because she, like the rest of them, was dead. Maybe she was a different kind of dead, like Ariadne was, or something else entirely. Inhuman and seeking company of those like her. Or, the more worrying scenario, she cared about the liveliness of the farm’s inhabitants because she saw them as something to be gotten rid of. Whichever way it went, he didn’t see a benefit to staying on the farm.

He would not let his wariness show, riding confidently alongside her, and even pulling ahead now and then when the path narrowed. If he still had a heartbeat, it would have been as quick and fluttering as a jackrabbit’s as he tried to discern the nature of this visit. It was sudden, that was certain, and seemed to lack much purpose other than asking after kittens that didn’t exist. That felt a flimsy excuse, but then Monty wondered if he wasn’t just being paranoid. Friends did just drop in sometimes, didn’t they? Just to say hello? Yes, there was nothing especially strange about that, he assured himself. All the same, he kept a close eye on her as they rode, glad that the small talk had not yet turned back to the farm hands.

—

Monty played a good card, Jade had to hand it to him. Not a card that would stop her from doing what she had to do, mind you (no more Metzlis for her!), but… she could recognize the game. She could acknowledge a decent attempt at switching narratives. Her lips twitched, sharing a knowing look. There was no reason to goad him further, actually, she got the reaction she wanted. “Uh-huh, so awful, right? Kids on TikTok, they just have too much free time,” almost as much time as the people scrolling down for hours did. (She’d know). “We shall!” She changed subjects, grabbing the reins offered to her, and following Monty outside the barn. (The mounting took three tries, but if no one was there to see it, did it count?).

Jade had questions about his past, obviously. When didn’t she? Had Monty been a target B.M (Before Metzli), she would’ve wanted to hear him out, a lot of undead just needed that. He must’ve suffered horrors post-transformation, no doubt about it. He must’ve had tales about losing control and harming others. Killing, too. That was a given. Becoming undead was a curse she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy (the country of Ireland). And Jade would’ve found ways to reassure him, to look at him with compassion, a promise ready on her lips: She’d fix him. (Cause everyone wanted that, right?). But after Metzli, she promised herself she’d be careful with her sympathy. Maybe it had always been a mistake to approach it like that. As a kindness. Which, it still was, ending an undead’s suffering always was, but it didn’t need to be explained every time. And actually, yup! It was super dumb to feel like she had to justify herself, as if there was anything wrong with carrying her duty. She couldn’t expect every undead to get it, her purpose. Her decisions had to be sharper. So they would be (Ruby would be proud of her display of pragmatism).

There was somebody else in her mind though. Her heart, really (always). Someone who would’ve questioned her intentions, her need to go after someone who appeared innocent in every sense (as if there was innocence in a man turned monster, turned killer, stripped from humanity). But that person wasn’t here, and Jade didn’t have to answer to her. She was all the way in Ireland, they couldn’t make each other girl failures anymore! Wasn’t that what they wanted? N— Yup. Yup! She was doing the right thing. She was. Protecting Wicked’s Rest humans from this zombie farm. Stopping this from becoming a horde out of control. “You should totally tell me more about Habanero,” Jade cut off her thoughts before they escalated into something that would have her making stupid decisions. Stupid decisions were reserved for her personal life only, not her job. (Which was the best job in the world! Had she mentioned that lately?).

Monty took the bait, but Jade wasn’t really listening. Her right hand held onto Manzanita’s reins, while her left dug inside the coat, taking advantage of the small distance Monty and Habanero had created by walking a few feet ahead. She let out some excited hums, encouraging him to keep going, while she took out the gun from the holster and released the safety button. She wasn’t too comfortable with the weight in her hands, way more used to her crossbow, or her knives. But carrying a crossbow into the farm would’ve raised more eyebrows and turned more heads than needed. And when was hunting ever about comfort?

The window of distraction would never be long enough. A second. Two tops, before Monty sensed abnormal movement or checked on her. So Jade lifted her arm, set her sight, right in the middle of Monty’s skull and squeezed the trigger with no preamble. The way she should’ve done with Metzli. No dilly-dallying. Boom. Done. The thunder sent birds flying and… She wasn’t counting on Manzanita to try and save her owner. The horse reeled, sending Jade backward, and throwing her aim off. The bullet flew across the air, missing the target, but scraping Monty’s scalp. Jade tried to get the horse to chill out, but when she realized she wouldn’t, she decided to fire, anyway. It wasn’t about aiming now, she just needed Monty to lose his balance.

—

Click.

So he’d been right to be afraid. Damnit. He didn’t have time to think about these things between the sound of the safety being released, Manzanita neighing angrily, and the deafening crack of the pistol as it fired. His hat went flying though he barely felt the sting of the wound. The boom echoed through the trees, ricocheting off their trunks and frightening the animals they rode who were now uncertain where it was coming from. Habanero, at least, had more experience around firearms, and did not try to buck Monty, but instead stamped his feet and started to turn around with his ears pinned flat against his head.

As Jade came into view, Monty felt his fear turn into something else. That person he’d been trying to reconnect with before, the person he was when life was harder and demanded more of him in order to survive was the one who stared her down now. He drew his own gun, a revolver that had served him well for decades, but found himself staring down the muzzle of her pistol as she went to fire again. Manzanita was busy trying to free herself of her burden, which made Monty a harder target to hit… but it made Jade a harder target, too. He was careful, reflexively ducking as she fired off another shot, taking aim as he straightened up again but hesitating to shoot for fear of hurting Manzanita. Still, she was just going to keep shooting at him until she succeeded in her goal, so he had to do something. He shouted a command to Habanero, something in Spanish that rolled quickly off his tongue, and the horse ducked his head. Monty fired his weapon, hitting the woman in the shoulder.

He holstered his revolver and dismounted like it was nothing, racing over to Manzanita and grabbing Jade by the waist, ripping her out of the saddle and throwing her to the ground. As he dropped down on top of her to try and wrestle the firearm from her hands, he yelled another command at his horses. Habanero reared and then bolted, nudging past Manzanita on the way and urging her to follow. Both equines sprinted into the trees and away from danger, and Monty dug the thumb of his left hand into her right shoulder, into the bleeding gunshot wound, his right hand clasped over hers that held the gun, keeping her finger away from the trigger.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted, though he obviously knew the answer. Having the why wouldn’t make much of a difference, but he felt compelled to ask all the same. Dark blood dripped from the graze on his scalp, running through his long hair and down his face, unnoticed by the zombie.

—

Jade could’ve done better. Nuh-uh. Should’ve. Even before Monty’s horse messed up her shot. She was immediately surrounded by giant ghosts, ghosts she loved, sure, but ghosts who were only summoned to berate her for how she did her job. If she had aimed for Habanero… put a bullet through his leg. She could’ve, should’ve been more cold-blooded. But her heart couldn’t even entertain the idea. No harming the living, she was especially stubborn about that one. She would not join the ranks of all those “does the horse die” lists. The animal had no blame for what his owner did to sustain his lifestyle.

That was where she knew, she would’ve disappointed her older siblings. That’s how Jade knew she still wasn’t there, at their level. That she wasn’t at the point where she could skew the lines of her conscience if it meant securing the kill. But she would be. She would be. And taking Monty out was a good way of showing it. How committed she was. Despite her numerous missteps, one thing remained constant: She was above the moral conflicts that plagued every other hunter in Wicked’s Rest. She was a slayer. She would slay. (Except… forget about Metzli).

If anything, she should be grateful to Monty for getting in the way of her highly anticipated, one season in the making, mental breakdown. He was so quick drawing his gun, so sharp on top of the horse. Almost like, he had been a real cowboy and not just part of his gay identity. Her hat flew off her head when Manzanita bucked and thrashed to get rid of her. Joke was on the horse, cause Jade was an expert mechanic bull rider so this was like, a regular Saturday night. (And sure, her recent stab wound was politely asking she’d stop showing off). She wasn’t even sure why she was still trying to stay up on the horse, if not to display core skills that served no one these days (Regan’s loss). Cause the more she emptied her gun with shots that barely grazed him, the more she realized she was wasting time. And she was being ridiculed for the one thing she did know how to do expertly. (She did not practice shooting for two decades for a sweet horse with a gorgeous mane to put her on blast).

Speaking of blast: She heard it. Saw the muzzle on Monty’s revolver flash. Then a precise bullet punched through her right shoulder, exiting the other side.

It burned. (Duh!) It burned so freaking bad that for five long seconds, Jade had no jokes to crack. Partly shook, partly curious, (partly stupid), she couldn’t help but look down. These types of wounds were not common in her line of work. It was red, her flesh torn with like, a tiny hole. Oh, that did make her a little queasy, actually. Monty became blurry too, from the tears stinging her eyes, so it was kinda nice he seemed to be approaching.

Until she was slammed to the ground with a loud thud. Geez. She wasn’t gonna pretend it wasn’t a little bit hot? The skill, obviously. She appreciated skill in all sorts of creatures. Equally as hot but nowhere near as fun? The sharp, shooting pain all through her limb and chest as a mean thumb jabbed into her shoulder, blood gushing out of the wound. Her chest heaved, a scream threatening to rip her throat, but she contained it through gritted teeth. There was no time for the haze of pain or nausea. Adrenaline was kicking in. She tried to free her left hand, while her right hand tried to twist Monty’s wrist. The problem was, her fingers were not in the mood to obey, so it just felt like she was pawing at him. (She didn’t have it in her to make a joke about how her fingers always worked, but it was there, in spirit).

Oh no. Monty wanted to talk. While they both exerted over her gun? Jade was a multitasker, sure. But not to the point of miracles. And again, had this happened before she would’ve been so disappointed Monty couldn’t see why this had to be done. She would’ve made sure the math was mathing for him too. Screw that. “What does it look… like I’m doing? Taking out… the leader of Zombie Farm. There’s already a game about that, we don’t need the live-action!” dead-action? Her upper body was locked while they battled it out, but her legs still worked, kneeing Monty in the abdomen. One millisecond to ease his grip on her. She twisted (or well, whatever her fingers did) Monty’s wrist and bent her hand just enough for the gun to aim at his face. She squeezed the trigger tasting victory, and… Nothing. She was empty, and she was too tied down by Monty regaining control to reach inside her coat for another magazine. Oh boy.

—

As expected, he knew the answer. Of course, what else could it be? Whether or not the rumor was true, Jade was a slayer. Monty wondered why she’d held onto it before, why she’d accepted the kitten from him and pretended that they were friends when her ultimate goal was to kill him. Maybe this was what he deserved for trusting outsiders. Maybe he should’ve been more careful… or maybe she just needed to be more dead.

Wincing slightly at the kick to his gut, his grip on her wrist failed just enough for her to make use of it. She pointed the gun at his head, but he didn’t flinch. She pulled the trigger and nothing happened. “You should learn to count your shots,” he snarled, his tone carrying a cold viciousness that he hadn’t heard come from himself since before he died. “You know the scary thing about fighting zombies like this? The more you hurt us, the stronger we get. The harder to kill. You should never take a zombie in hand-to-hand. Never miss that first shot.” He headbutted her then, not hard enough to knock her out, but enough to daze her for a moment so he could get the gun away from her and securely in the waist of his jeans. He was giving her a quick pat down as she started to come back out of it, tossing aside whatever weapons of hers he could get his hands on.

“I should kill you,” he said once her eyes had focused on him again. He had his revolver out and pointed right in her face just as she’d done to him. Her arms were now pinned by his knees as he straddled her torso, staring down at her with a dark, uncaring gaze. “But then I would just be proving your point, wouldn’t I?” He seemed to consider the pros and cons of this for a moment, cocking his head to the side. His face was changed, and it harbored no fear. She couldn’t kill him, he knew that. She could try, and in the process she might turn him feral, but then he would be nearly unstoppable. He would devour her, come back to himself, and the problem would be solved. Or he could kill her here, now. It was self defense.

He’d been here before, of course. Without the near invincibility that being undead offered, he’d held a gun to a man’s head just like this. He was young, hardly done being a child, and this was the first time he’d had to do it himself. He was usually the decoy, or the sneak thief, but never the killer. Until that day, until things went wrong and he was the only one who had a clear shot. Still he hadn’t taken it, still he’d decided to tackle the man to the ground instead, where they’d struggled in the dust for some seconds before Monty came out on top, frantic and gasping for breath. “Shoot him!” one of his companions had cried out. Monty had faltered, the hand that held his revolver trembling like a leaf in the wind. “You fucking kill him, boy!” Hector’s voice had rang out above the rest, and it was like a sleeper command. Monty had pulled the trigger without hesitation then, blinking in surprise as blood splattered up his front and onto his face.

He pressed the muzzle beneath Jade’s chin, waiting to see if he’d hear that command again. “If I let you go, I get the feeling you will be back. Is that true?” Hector spoke in a voice only he could hear, and Monty could feel the weight of the hand on his shoulder.

If you want something to make it worth the trouble… tie her up to the horse n’ let him drag her to death. You remember when we did that to that deputy? Bastard was paste on the road by the end of it.

He remembered. He had called on that version of himself for bravery and strength, but now it had pivoted to violence and cruelty. To survival.

—

See this was why Jade preferred her crossbow. Or even the classic bow and arrow, (and nope, not just cause she’d gone through a Katniss Everdeen phase). This is what she got for trying to diversify. Ugh. A gun was nowhere near as sexy either. So call it a temporary lapse of judgment, always so rare for her. Monty snarled on top, his face contorting in the monstrous viciousness of his kind. The type of viciousness innocents must’ve seen right before he made a meal out of them. it was kind of him to supply some lore, albeit pointless, cause she already knew that. But it was rude not to reply to him, so she tried, through strained breaths. “Oh yuh— up, that’s like… chapter 3, nuh uh! Maybe 4 of The Book of Unlife, they even… made a movie.” That was why she’d try putting a bullet through his skull while he was at a safe distance, and she would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for Manzanita! “This crash course is fun though, I do… learn… getting my hands dirty. Should we go… to shooting practice too?” No answer, except… Monty had a very strange way of booping her nose. Ow. (So… was that a yes?)

Nope. Jade felt a little lightheaded, her forehead buzzing from the headbutt. And oh, crap… he had her gun. And a few of her knives. She could forgive him for shooting her, but she did not like him patting her down. It was the only time she showed her discontent with a grunt, keenly aware of the ring in her left hand. It almost pulsed. The ring in her hand which led to the woman who gave it to her, whose hands were the only ones Jade wanted. Speaking of… If, (hypothetically) she were to kick it, would she sense it? She hated that. Jade’s bones were too fresh still for her to come to collect. She needed them to be a little more decomposed. Perfect for her lady. Besides, she had promised to be careful. And right, yikes, there were weapons being pulled from inside her coat, focus, but…

Monty should kill her, was his idea. Jade wasn’t too big of a fan. “I dunno, should you? Cause... that’s definitely not a good look,” he seemed to agree with her in the next beat. Perfect! And talking was really helpful in getting her mind off the pain, actually. Yapping was always the solution, it seemed. But then Monty had the gall to remind her just how much her nerve endings were screaming, once his knees pinned her arms. Feeling left out, the stab wound in her belly also protested. Jade chewed her bottom lip, keeping a scream at bay.

Monty drew his revolver again.

The muzzle was still hot from his last shot. Not enough to burn into her skin as he pressed against it, but enough for Jade to let out a small sound of discomfort. But like, maybe that was the fact that she was held at gunpoint, not so much the temperature of said weapon. Could she breathe a little, please? Her chest shook with a labored breath. “I mean, I could lie. I’m good at that. But honesty is the best policy and all so uh, yup! We’re definitely getting a sequel, unless we flop at the office and the studio cancels us. But like, I’d carry a sword or something next time… maybe… my own horse.” Someone, far, far away (where Boneios were a thing) would’ve probably wished she had more self-preservation instincts. Her siblings were rolling their eyes, for sure. She’d seen that look too many times. Most recently when her confidence got that old fart released into the world. Jade stared at Monty with an insolent look. A lot of stuff seemed to be going through his head too, so maybe there was a chance to prey on that. “For what it’s worth it’s not personal. I can’t let fondness get in the way of my duty,” and there was warmth, still lingering. But it was so easy to make the distinction when she weighed the pros and cons. It would always be a no-brainer. Unlike Monty, by the looks of it. “You’re doing dangerous stuff around here. One of your pals loses control… and innocent people pay the price.” That was it, that was all the context he got. It wasn’t like context had helped Metzli.

She wasn’t gonna die today, that was what she wanted to focus on. Jade lifted a challenging eyebrow at him. Even that hurt like she was being zapped, actually. “Come on. Prove it to yourself, you’re a good monster,” cause apparently everybody was a good monster in this town. Not one shady vampire or savage zombie. Nope. They all stayed home to write poetry or knit or whatever it was they were doing when somehow, humans turned up dead, their blood slurped or their insides munched. Undead here were built different, which was totally suspicious considering the sheer volume of them frolicking around. “You’d let a baby without her mother? Twins! Without their mother. They have no one else,” it was fleeting, but genuine concern passed through her features as she considered leaving Lu and Mel orphaned. She just couldn’t. She lifted her knee again, hitting Monty in the back of his thigh.

—

She should have lied, probably. Not that Monty would have believed her, but still. “This is why I keep my pals fed and happy,” he retorted, looking less upset and more curious. “That’s what we do here—that’s what the livestock is for. Do you really think a bunch of zombies would be capable of running a farm if they were on the edge of starvation? No… we get by on the brains of the cows, the sheep, the goats.” And whatever random human chose to attack one of them and die as a consequence… “People like you, people that we have to kill in self defense… your organs bolster our diet. We ration your pieces to give the animal viscera that extra kick that it needs to keep us going. We have a system, and we do not harm anyone who does not try to harm us first.” He frowned. “When they do try to harm us, they are creating the danger. You shooting me, you created the danger today.” And the way he was feeling now, like the lock had been broken off of a cage door, she may have created the danger that would exist for quite some time.

Kill her. She’s a threat to you n’ yours. Kill her, it’s what we would have done, Hector said. Monty drew in a long breath, lifting his chin as he still stared down at Jade. “They will find another family,” he said grimly. He had, after all. Everyone he knew had, in some way or another. It was just a fact of life. And death.

Kill her.

His finger twitched on the trigger, squeezing but not hard enough to fire. He could feel Hector’s presence behind him, looming over him and bidding he do what was necessary. But there was something else, some small voice that begged him to stop. Begged him to consider the consequences. Emilio would be given reason enough to come for him, he figured. The people that had attacked the farm not that long ago would hear about if they were in fact connected to the hunter bar, and if Jade was not lying about the rumor. She would become a martyr to some he could guess, and likely many more that he could not. After all, hunters still loved. Kaden…

Kaden would think less of him, wouldn’t he? He might be alarmed by this behavior, it might push him away… he couldn’t live with that.

“I am a good monster,” the cowboy answered before pulling his arm back, flipping the revolver around in his hand, and whipping her in the head with the grip. Her eyes rolled in her head for a second before they closed, and he was quick to whistle for his horse’s return. Habanero came trotting back up to the scene with some trepidation, but moved to Monty’s side with another coax. Monty grabbed the rope that was attached to his saddle and rolled Jade over, tying her hands and feet behind her back. Her knives and gun he stashed in his saddlebag, then hoisted her up from the ground and draped her over Habanero’s hindquarters. Manzanita came quietly over to them and Monty made sure to give her a treat before climbing onto Habanero’s back and urging the mare to follow with a click of his tongue.

They’d been riding for about ten minutes or so when the slayer came around, making a sound behind Monty. “Do not throw yourself from the horse,” he warned, not looking back. “Your ankles are bound and you will not get far.” Around them, the trees were starting to thin out and the vast fields were getting smaller as they got closer to town. Monty turned them into the ditch, figuring this was close enough. He stopped, dismounted, and pulled Jade from Nero’s back, throwing her over his shoulder. A few more paces down into the ditch and up the other side, and he set her down roughly against a fence post. Removing his own hunting knife from its sheath on his belt, the zombie paused, staring at her.

“I am not letting you go because I believe you will change, but I will be prepared for you next time. And there will be no second chances.” With that, he roughly sliced his blade through the ropes at her feet so she could walk herself back to town, but her hands stayed secured behind her. “I’d wish you luck, but… I think I’d rather you die on the road.”

#. thread ;#. with ; jade bloodworth #. nothing personal ;#gun use tw

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