The Emissary (Horse Women of the Zombie Apocalypse) by K. A. Jordan Page B
Authors: K. A. Jordan
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fussed the entire time, tucking her head to her chest and swatting her tail to express her annoyance. As the youngest horse, she was the lowest on the pecking order. Leading the herd had given her temporary status.
The filly liked being first. Beth gave the filly a pat on the neck. It was the only way Lil' Stinker was going to learn.
When Beth took point again, Lil' Stinker ignored the trash on the road.
The sun was mid-way to the horizon when Alexis came up beside them.
"You've got your hands full," Alexis said.
Beth patted Lil' Stinker. "She's hyper-sensitive. A timid horse needs a bold rider." Beth grinned because they'd both heard their father say that a thousand times.
"Tyler says we're only a couple of miles from Fort Chatten. I'm going to call a halt so we can get cleaned up before we go in. I never knew I was so vain." Alexis gave a little laugh.
Alexis was covered in dirt, slime and sweat. Her face was streaked red from caustic muerto slime. The day was warm, and they were dressed in leather for protection from muerto. The horses were sweaty and slimy as well.
If Beth could smell her sister, she had to be just as ripe.
"Hmmm, bathe in a cold creek and look good or wait for a hot bath?" Beth laughed. "Either way, I want clean clothes."
"Ew, put the same dirty clothes back on…" Alexis shuddered. "Gag me."
Beth itched all over. Just thinking about a bath made her to feel just how filthy she really was, and how awful she smelled. Beth scratched her head. She didn't want to arrive at Fort Chatten that way either.
Lil' Stinker raised her head and snorted. Movement on the opposite side of the creek, high on the hill, caught Beth's eye.
A horse and rider silhouetted against the skyline.
Beth shaded her eyes to see better.
The horse was light-colored with a huge red star painted on its shoulder. The rider was dressed in a multi-colored leather vest, carrying a spear with streamers tied to the shaft. The rider looked like an Indian.
"Hey! On the ridge!" Beth held up her hand for a halt then pointed at the rider. The rider brandished the spear. They all heard the yip and ululation over the rush of the creek. Some part of her leaped in recognition and welcome, at the same time she feared a hostile force.
The rider appeared to be alone. Even if he wasn't, there was no clear road off the cliff. His group would take time to get down, cross the creek, and so forth. Her group could be long gone.
She heard the collective reaction: excitement from her sisters, a long, low whistle. Zack swore, Hector swore in Spanish.
"Oh for god's sake! Overreact much?" Beth said. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." She turned around and repeated it so the others could hear. Then she stood in the saddle and shouted it to the Indian on the hill.
"The enemy — of my enemy — is my friend!" Her voice echoed - striking the cliff and mocking her a hundred times a second. The rider brandished the spear a second time, as though in reply, turned the horse and vanished into the trees.
"What the hell was that?" Zack shouted at Beth.
Beth snapped, "Diplomacy. No doubt you've never heard of it." Her sister's snickered, which made Beth smile.
"Beth is a peace maker. She's our emissary." Alexis explained with a grin.
Emissary - Beth savored the word. It felt right, like a purpose and a title all in one. The was exactly what she wanted to do - bring people together so they could take the world back from the stinking muerto.
"Step it up," Tyler ordered.
Beth moved Lil' Stinker to the left, off the pavement, before asking for a canter. Her sisters followed, so the truck pulled up to the right. Tyler was level with Alexis.
Beth saw the way he smiled at Alexis and smirked. Love was in the air all right.
"Heads up," Hector called from the back of the truck. "We got muerto on our six." He was looking through binoculars, studying the road behind them.
"How many?" Tyler looked in the rear view mirror.
Hector replied, "More than usual. I've
The filly liked being first. Beth gave the filly a pat on the neck. It was the only way Lil' Stinker was going to learn.
When Beth took point again, Lil' Stinker ignored the trash on the road.
The sun was mid-way to the horizon when Alexis came up beside them.
"You've got your hands full," Alexis said.
Beth patted Lil' Stinker. "She's hyper-sensitive. A timid horse needs a bold rider." Beth grinned because they'd both heard their father say that a thousand times.
"Tyler says we're only a couple of miles from Fort Chatten. I'm going to call a halt so we can get cleaned up before we go in. I never knew I was so vain." Alexis gave a little laugh.
Alexis was covered in dirt, slime and sweat. Her face was streaked red from caustic muerto slime. The day was warm, and they were dressed in leather for protection from muerto. The horses were sweaty and slimy as well.
If Beth could smell her sister, she had to be just as ripe.
"Hmmm, bathe in a cold creek and look good or wait for a hot bath?" Beth laughed. "Either way, I want clean clothes."
"Ew, put the same dirty clothes back on…" Alexis shuddered. "Gag me."
Beth itched all over. Just thinking about a bath made her to feel just how filthy she really was, and how awful she smelled. Beth scratched her head. She didn't want to arrive at Fort Chatten that way either.
Lil' Stinker raised her head and snorted. Movement on the opposite side of the creek, high on the hill, caught Beth's eye.
A horse and rider silhouetted against the skyline.
Beth shaded her eyes to see better.
The horse was light-colored with a huge red star painted on its shoulder. The rider was dressed in a multi-colored leather vest, carrying a spear with streamers tied to the shaft. The rider looked like an Indian.
"Hey! On the ridge!" Beth held up her hand for a halt then pointed at the rider. The rider brandished the spear. They all heard the yip and ululation over the rush of the creek. Some part of her leaped in recognition and welcome, at the same time she feared a hostile force.
The rider appeared to be alone. Even if he wasn't, there was no clear road off the cliff. His group would take time to get down, cross the creek, and so forth. Her group could be long gone.
She heard the collective reaction: excitement from her sisters, a long, low whistle. Zack swore, Hector swore in Spanish.
"Oh for god's sake! Overreact much?" Beth said. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." She turned around and repeated it so the others could hear. Then she stood in the saddle and shouted it to the Indian on the hill.
"The enemy — of my enemy — is my friend!" Her voice echoed - striking the cliff and mocking her a hundred times a second. The rider brandished the spear a second time, as though in reply, turned the horse and vanished into the trees.
"What the hell was that?" Zack shouted at Beth.
Beth snapped, "Diplomacy. No doubt you've never heard of it." Her sister's snickered, which made Beth smile.
"Beth is a peace maker. She's our emissary." Alexis explained with a grin.
Emissary - Beth savored the word. It felt right, like a purpose and a title all in one. The was exactly what she wanted to do - bring people together so they could take the world back from the stinking muerto.
"Step it up," Tyler ordered.
Beth moved Lil' Stinker to the left, off the pavement, before asking for a canter. Her sisters followed, so the truck pulled up to the right. Tyler was level with Alexis.
Beth saw the way he smiled at Alexis and smirked. Love was in the air all right.
"Heads up," Hector called from the back of the truck. "We got muerto on our six." He was looking through binoculars, studying the road behind them.
"How many?" Tyler looked in the rear view mirror.
Hector replied, "More than usual. I've
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