Devils & Black Sheep

By S. F. Silver

Overnight the world had changed.
U.S. currency failed and lawlessness ruled.
A small group of people turned to the
historical rules of pyracy to survive.
They found others in the Rocky Mountains
and soon became a strong crew
that cared for one another.
Their leader was their Captain,
and like many before her,
she was capable of both
great and terrible things.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514451588

S. F. Silver

Miss Silver lives with her family in the mountains of Colorado. She has studied pyracy since 2008. Her love of history and freedom inspired this book.

Book preview

Bloody Pyrates

Dirty little faces and blank eyes peered through muddy glass panes. A sharp, muffled word and they disappeared behind a dropped cloth. The cabin door suddenly swung open to reveal a thin, dark-skinned woman wearing camouflage. She shut the door behind her with one hand as she raised a shotgun with the other. The stranger in the old Chevy pickup licked his fat lips when the barrel pointed his direction. His pride in reading people for his own benefit wavered when he saw the hard eyes glaring from beneath the brown hat. She moved carefully but deliberately towards the yellow vehicle and stopped twenty feet away with Betty the shotgun held in constant aim.

The fat man cursed under his breath as two men stepped out from beside the cabin. One kept a limping pace with the woman and got a better bead on him with a 270. The other mounted the porch from the far side and held guard at the door with another rifle in hand. This wasn’t going to be easy. He lifted his sausage fingers up in a gesture of peace. The shotgun never bobbed. He reached down slowly with one hand and unlatched the door. Wriggling, he freed his body from the truck with hands held high before he could second-guess himself.

Hello, he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again, stepping toward the woman. Hello there. She circled to his right. Not wanting to turn his back on any of them, he moved to the front of the truck.

What do you want? the older man with the limp asked. Although in t-shirt and shorts, the fat man had a bead of sweat run down his jowls. He bobbed his big head before answering.

I’m looking- for food, for safety, for me- for a place to stay. He stumbled forward with his thumb pointing over his back until the aim came up on the old man’s gun. It’s crazy in town. He put his hands out in front and darted a quick glance at the leveled shotgun to his right. In that moment, the third gun slipped into the cabin. Please. I need a place to stay. The single shot bobbed.

On your knees, the older man growled through his grey and white beard. The stranger knelt awkwardly, his hands going to the ground with him. A sudden blast opened the back of his skull down to the base of his neck. A spray of blood, bone, and tissue erupted then settled onto the man as he fell to the ground with a jiggling thud.

What! the old man startled. The lady cocked and shifted her aim to the truck but tilted her head at the body.

Get the gun and take that side, she ordered in a quiet tone. The old man turned his aim to the truck and limped forward. He glanced nervously between the truck and the body as he stepped forward. He avoided looking directly at the mess his wife had made and saw instead the hand gripping the butt of a pistol still caught in the sock. With another quick look at the truck, he carefully bent over and tugged it loose. He stuck it in a back pocket and pulled his gun back up.

The woman was still standing back from the truck. Without looking at him, she nodded to the front and started gliding to the passenger door. She shifted Betty into her left arm and stayed low. Her husband stood near the driver’s front panel aiming into the cab but away from his wife. He saw the back of her hat bob just before the door latch sprang. She swung the door open and Betty around to face a young lady crouched on the passenger floorboard.

She too had a little pistol but was pointing it up between her spindly hands. Her blond hair was askew and eyes wide. Fear had her in its grip. One wrong move and she would either shoot herself or the one in front of her.

Hell, she might even shoot the truck, the woman thought. Very slowly, she moved Betty to her other hand but kept it off her shoulder. She noticed the bruise along one cheek and more on a forearm.

No one is going to hurt you here, she said slowly. Unless you shoot that gun, she added. As if suddenly aware of what she was holding, the girl dropped the pistol and let it clatter from her feet out of the truck and to the ground.

I…I didn’t want…he told me to, but I… The lady pointed Betty at the fallen pistol and held out a hand.

Come on out of there, she suggested. In jerky movements, the girl unfolded herself from the truck and stood next to it, her knees turned in under her cutoffs. Okay, the lady sighed. Now lock your hands behind your head. The girl complied keeping her arms tight about her hair. Kneel down. Careful of the rock. The girl whimpered as she contemplated her death but obeyed. Now fold over and stay that way for a few minutes, the lady said as she leaned over quickly to retrieve the pistol. The scrawny thing bent down and stayed in a shivering hunch.

By then, a quick glance told her that the cab was empty. She heard a sound issue from the bed of the truck. A cheap blue tarp was tied down over lumpy items. One corner looked loose. She motioned for her other half to peel that corner back as she settled in for a better shot. A quick nod and he snatched the tarp back. Behind the driver’s side a man was curled up, his fingers twitching emptily above his head.

Yes. I’m here and not armed, he announced. His glasses were crooked on his long nose. He sat up using his elbows. With Betty facing him four feet away, he held still.

Strip it, the woman ordered. The old man slung his gun and started freeing the tarp from the bed. Are there any more surprises? she asked the man. He shook his head. Up and over this way. She backed up as the stranger stood and stepped up onto the objects under cover. The girl was still on the ground.

You didn’t have to do that, he observed when he saw her huddled below. He hopped carefully down, keeping one hand up as he used the other for balance.

Let’s try it again, was the sharp reply as the lady nodded to the ground. He set a grimace on his face as he assumed the same position as the girl. The tarp came free to expose boxes, coolers, and bags. The old man hoisted an ammo can onto the side of the truck and grinned.

All clear, he announced. The lady whistled.

Gunner, she called out. Bring out the manacles. Soon the front door opened and the younger man trotted out to hand her an antique set of cuffs. He took aim with his .22 as she shouldered Betty and screwed a key into one of the locks. The iron rung opened and she clamped it tight over the man’s left wrist. When she pulled the key free, the iron was pinching the skin.

Sorry, honey, she murmured as she took the left hand of the girl from her tangle of hair. I know you aren’t going anywhere so you’ll keep him here, she explained as she secured the other shackle. Up, she told them, stepping back. She leaned over to whisper to Gunner. Grab that tarp and cover the fat man then help Quarter.

Aye, Captain. He jumped to comply.

This way, she said louder to the captives. They moved slowly, the girl holding her arm across her body. Her eyes were wide and mouth open as they approached the blubbery carcass. She suddenly spun as they passed and spit on the dead man.

Serves you right, you lousy shit! she screeched. Captain brought Betty up for the episode but relaxed as the girl swung herself back around.

Left, the woman directed as she marched them around the cabin. In the backyard stood a younger lady with a big pistol on her hip. Next to her was a thick post rising out of the ground. Go to her, Captain ordered. As they stumbled dejectedly through the tall grass, they heard the rumble of the truck engine out front.

We don’t want any trouble, the man explained. We just thought it would be safer away from- Captain nudged him in the back with Betty to shut him up.

Stop, the young lady in front told them. The truck engine died as they halted. She withdrew her pistol and cocked it. The black powder gun looked heavy, but didn’t waver in her hand.

Rope, Captain called. The curly-haired girl reached back with one hand and slung a few feet of soft rope over to her. The pistol faced off with the man while Captain turned to the thin girl. She secured the rope snugly around her wrists leaving a small lead dangling. Producing the key, she also removed the manacle.

Knees, she said kindly. The girl knelt. Hand, she said brusquely as she tugged at the iron. The man gave over his free hand and turned slowly to look at her.

Why are you doing this? Sincerity rang in his voice. She looked him over.

For me and mine, was the answer. She stepped back and pointed Betty at his head. Ready to hoist the colours! she called out.

Read to hoist the colours, aye! was the reply as the young lady holstered her pistol. She stepped up and clicked a large metal clip onto the chain between his wrists. A rope ran from the clip to a ring near the top of the pole and down through a pulley into the girl’s hands. The man took a step forward then stopped as he realized both ground and pole were spattered with old blood. He balked and leaned back.

Oh, please. Oh, please no. Betty shoved him hard from behind. He turned to plead with Captain. She gave him a pathetic smile.

I won’t hurt you if you cooperate. He wanted to believe her, but something shone in her eyes. He looked back at the pole. No… he moaned and fell to his knees. She leaned forward, pressing Betty to his skull.

My children are watching, she whispered. They have seen enough death this day. Walk up to the damn pole like a man and stand still. She stood back above him and waited.

The girl knelt, the sun grew warm, and he stood with gritted teeth. He didn’t know if she was telling the truth, but he didn’t want to die although the gun would be faster than whatever butchery they may have planned. He took one step then another. His feet moved like logs attached to the ends of his legs.

Turn, Captain almost purred as he faced the tall pole.

As he turned around, he heard the younger lady say, Ready, sir.

His eyes met Captain’s as she ordered, Hoist the colours! His hands jerked upwards and his back slammed into the pole in two quick jerks of the rope. The third pulled him up onto the tips of his toes. Captain raised a hand and the girl tied off the rope.

Bo, take the other prisoner to the porch, the lady said as her eyes watched the strung man struggling with his plight. The young lady took the bound girl by the lead and, speaking gently, led her away. Captain dropped to one knee slinging Betty across the other. She pulled out a shell from her pocket and shoved it into the bottom of her gun.

You don’t believe me. She looked up from under the wide brim. Do you? She stood up slowly and made two short whistles. A black a white dog came out from under the porch, trotting up to her. She patted his scarred head above his one good eye. Watch him, Grog. Stay. She started walking back to the cabin. The man started laughing hysterically.

Pirates? he asked through his mirth. Captain stopped without turning around.

Aye. Bloody pyrates, she answered and left him to think on it dangling from the bloody pole. The truck started up again and the sound faded into the mountains.

Captain deliberately chose not to remember her old name. Pain and grief sprang sharply to the fore whenever she even considered thinking of it. The pain hit her in a wave until she pushed it back down. The bruises on the girl reminded her of her old self. She gave and inner shake to set those thoughts aside. She had things to deal with first. She took Bo by the arm as she leaned in.

Keep a knife, but no guns near this one, she whispered. Get her clean and show her how it’s done. Bo nodded. Keep her isolated and I’ll talk with her soon. She released the younger lady to her tasks.

Captain never asked to be this way. Happenstance and fate had played their parts in her leadership. She straightened herself and stepped back off the porch. The man was staring with fear at her dog. She gave a small chuckle and whistled to release him. He bounded to her side and they walked back around to the front.

The men were handing the stash through the door to smaller sets of hands that struggled with each load. She jumped up and made a couple of trips herself. When the last of the items were carried inside, she secured the door.

Coolers to the kitchen. Everything else can wait, she directed. Her oldest put a hand on her young hip.

That girl’s in there and Bo won’t let us in to see her, she reported. Captain might have smiled at the twelve-year old if not for her thinness and the little boy beside her.

You and Cabin go look out the window at the man. Let me know if he is up to anything, she added to the beat of their retreat. She looked over at her husband. Just the food for now. Gunner and I have a hole to fill. He had learned long ago not to argue.

And dinner? he asked.

Later, she answered as she juggled a mental inventory of their current supplies. Captain and Gunner went back out to face the grey tarp and quailed.

Axe? Gunner suggested. She nodded.

And my knife. They went around to the east side of the cabin near the back. Captain kept one eye on the sagging man while they loaded assorted sharp implements into a yard-wagon along with a roll of plastic and kitchen aprons. Gunner topped the pile with two sets of leather gloves and began to tow it around to the front.

Captain paused to regard the hanging man. Beneath his mop of brown hair and sagging glasses, his tear streaked face murmured pleas and prayers. He had succumbed to his position and hung limply against the tall pole. She nodded in approval and went to follow her friend.

Did you have to drop him here? Gunner asked as he uncovered the corpse.

Either that or start a shootout, she answered as she donned her black gloves. He backed away and pulled on his own gloves. She came forward to crouch at waist level. Holding her breath, she searched a back pocket and side pouch of the shorts yielding a half pack of sugar free gum. As Gunner checked the other side, she went to the shoes. The sneakers were only halfway laced and bursting at the seams from the feet jammed into them. She struggled with the closest one and sat down hard when it came free.

Shoes? he asked.

These weren’t his, she answered. The soles weren’t worn down yet. They might fit someone on the crew. As the second shoe came off it yielded something shiny. Bingo, she said as she snatched up a small key. She tossed the shoes aside and stood up.

Let’s roll him, she suggested. The right arm was pinned under his body, but the task wasn’t easy. Purple staining was already forming on his nose and lips.

Well, Pete, let’s get you done, Gunner said.

Pete? Captain panted as she stuck a hand into front pocket for nothing.

On the registration in the truck, he answered. She realized that he knew it was quite likely that Pete was the real owner’s name and not this fellows, but went along with the farce. Captain avoided looking at the man’s face, but noticed a glint of metal between his chins. She fished out a set of dog tags and a small silver key. Two keys in two places. She snapped the chain and pocketed the treasure. Gunner secured a fat wallet. He shook his head as he looked inside and tossed it over by the sneakers.

Captain walked over to the wagon and pulled out a large machete. She straightened an arm out from the body, felt where the shoulder joint was located, and swung at the armpit. The first cut went deep into the tissue and stuck in the bone. She wrenched it free and walked around to the other side. Her next swing parted the top of the shoulder. She set the blade aside for a large meat knife to carve the remaining flesh free. Captain and Gunner spent a good hour separating the man into five pieces.

Broken Laws

Where’s Rat? Captain asked Gunner as they finished piling dirt on the corpse down in a hole. He stood up to stretch and scratch at his beard.

Should be back soon.

Already here, a voice said from nearby. A thin man with dark hair sticking up in every direction and toting a green sack stepped out from behind a nearby tree.

Just in time, Captain told him as she stepped forward. She held her tools out to him and motioned for the sack. Rat blew his hair from his face and grinned as he handed over the booty from the truck. The pack felt light. Captain grimaced. Go over it again tomorrow, both of you. They nodded. Help him, she told Rat and walked back towards the cabin across the field.

She went through a small grove of trees first and stopped to look out over the grass. The sun was dropping in the afternoon sky. Another hour and the deer would be out. She sighed and continued her journey. He couldn’t see what they were doing, but the hanging man had a good idea when he first saw them drag the wagon out that direction.

Sweating, dirty, and blood spattered, Captain removed her over-shirt and balled it in one fist. She tossed it at the back porch when in range and whirled to face the man in glasses. She marched over to the nearby woodpile and chose a smooth, round log nor more than six inches across. Swinging it in front of her, she approached the captive. She pointed the end at him.

Name, she ordered.

Si-Simon, he whimpered. She turned as if to leave but stopped to put the log in front of his toes. She backed away quickly as he shot a foot out in search of purchase. He rolled the log back under his feet and sighed in relief. The numbness from his shoulders up lessened to a tingle. He gave a sob of gratitude, but the Captain was already walking in the back door.

In the mud room, she deposited her bloody shirt into an empty sink and stooped to pull off her boots and pants. Her hand found the keys and tags and held them tight. Tank top and underwear clad, she stepped into the kitchen. Bo and the girl were pouring hot water into the sink to wash dishes. Both stopped when they saw her. Captain motioned to the metal tub with steaming water.

May I? she asked.

Sure, Bo answered. Captain pointed at the girl with the open mouth.

Name? she asked.

Susan, the girl murmured.

Good. The woman dipped a bowl into the water. Give me ten, she said as she walked away. Quarter was waiting in the main room as he hovered over the unopened containers. Hey, babe, she said as she sloshed past. He followed her to the bathroom. She nonchalantly removed the rest of her clothing as she dug out a washcloth and a towel from under the counter. Her husband shut the door and sat on the wooden toilet lid. His eyes noted the lean musculature over her frame as she stepped into the tub. Once soft and plump, her visage was of something more primal now.

What’s the butcher’s bill? she asked as she dipped the cloth into the water bowl.

One cooler of bacon and sausage, one with hot dogs and brats, another full of beef, ribs, and hamburger, and one with chicken and pork.

The fifth? she asked as she started washing her face and neck moving down to her arms.

Cheeses and butter mostly. Captain’s hands rinsed the cloth and washed her breasts and torso.

Move it all down to the cool room. How melted is the ice? Quarter shrugged.

Not even half. He layered everything. She nodded and washed the cracks before lifting the bowl over her head to rinse the soap away. There is bread and buns in one of the totes and dry goods in two others, he admitted. She had known he would look into some of the other boxes beside what she had said.

Dig out the brats, buns, and condiments for tonight. Captain reached for her towel. Two each. Beans if we can manage too.

And the new folk? he asked.

Them too, she answered and stepped out from the tub wrapping herself in the soft cloth. I gotta find some clothes. She stooped to scoop up her belongings as well as the keys and kissed her husband on the forehead. He stood and followed her from the bathroom. Leaving the door to the bedroom open, she dispensed with her towel. He shut the door again and peered at her while she rummaged through a dresser.

What? she asked of the obvious inspection.

Just looking, he answered. She turned to face him.

Trying to see if I’m going to break down again? she asked then turned to the bed to dress.

Last time… he began.

That was different. Captain pulled a shirt on. I have things to deal with first. Up came the panties. If I do feel something coming on, I’ll tell you right away, she promised with one hand on his arm. She plopped down onto the bed to feed her legs into a long skirt.

What are you going to do with those people? Quarter asked bluntly. She tugged the waist into place and sat back down.

I don’t know yet, was the admission. I haven’t really spoken to them. He turned to leave and stopped with his hand on the knob.

Don’t do it alone. His brow was furrowed with worry.

I won’t, she promised as he left, her fingers prying her braid loose. Silver strands shone in the light brown mass. She fondly recalled when she had teased her husband about his wealth stating that he was worth more because of all the silver he had in his hair. It had long since filled in on his body leaving the occasional stray brown thread behind. A few soft knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts. She tossed the brush aside and sat up straight.

Come in, Captain invited. Bo opened the door and ushered the girl prisoner through. Her wrists were still bound, but her shaking had lessened. She kept her blue eyes downcast and shuffled her feet when she moved. Captain could almost smell the fear on her. The girl seemed to pose no threat, but threats weren’t the only danger in their situation.

Have First help you with dinner and check in with our other guest, she told the guard. Bo gauged a quick look through her curly hair at the girl and then left closing the door behind her. Sit, the Captain directed at the empty chair by the door. The youngling complied while looking at her feet. I take it that you weren’t very fond of Pete. The girl looked up sharply.

Who? she asked. Captain grimaced at her mistake. She hadn’t meant to trip up so easily. She knew that wasn’t his real name.

The fat fellow, she supplied.

Oh, him. She looked back down. No.

Susan, Captain sighed. It’s hard to talk to someone staring at my floor. The girl slid her eyes up to the stern lady perched on the edge of the bed. Give me the short version of who you are and how you came to be here.

She listened as the girl spoke of the local university and her home back in California. When the crash came, she latched herself to Roy the fat man because he promised to take her home. He beat and raped her often the last few weeks. Tears rolled down her face in silent currents.

I just want to go home. Roy thought we could hide up here in the mountains until things calmed down enough to travel. She had the realization as she spoke that Roy had lied to her about everything. Captain let it sink in for a moment.

You’re probably not going to get home for a long time. The statement was met with more tears. Surviving is all that matters right now. Do you know who we are? The girl shook her head. Pyrates, and as such we follow our own rules. Laws of the land have failed so we fell back on each other. Terrible things have happened to us all so we assumed a new identity, a stronger one. The girl sniffled. Watch my crew and learn. Perhaps we can help you. Hope shone through the red eyes. Captain knew this child would never see her home again. Safety and food were all they could offer her.

Come here. Susan stood facing the older woman. Captain took her by the wrists and held her gaze firm. Do you swear not to harm any of my crew and do what you are asked? she asked and the girl nodded. Captain’s eyes grew stern.

I swear, Susan supplied. The strong hands deftly unbound the smaller ones. Susan rubbed her wrists as Captain suddenly threw the rope around her waist and tied it loosely.

There are punishments for disobedience. Do what you are told and one day the rope will be gone. The girl nodded again. You know as I do that there are worse things than death.

Yes, Captain, she answered. Is there a… she left hanging. The elder put a hand on her shoulder and opened the door.

Kind of, she answered knowing it was a bathroom query. They went through the cabin to the kitchen. Bo and another slight young lady in glasses were busy prepping a meal while Captain’s children played quietly in the corner with a toddler.

First, take her to pee then have her sit in the front room until later. Bo cast a knowing look at Captain. The younger wiped her hands on a dish cloth and nodded. Once they left through the back door, Captain set herself to opening cans of baked beans.

Are we keeping her? Bo asked.

Only if she behaves, was the answer. Bo opened her mouth then checked herself and went to the fridge instead. How’s he doing? Captain asked tossing her head toward the backyard. Bo shrugged.

Rat’s playing with him. The young woman was an endearing sort with a wicked streak under her curls. There was strength in her with an assurance that she would face whatever needed done with conviction. Captain went over to the window to look at the captive. At that moment, Rat was circling the hanging man and fingering one of his sharp oriental blades. This one was going to be different. She sighed and spooned the beans into a Dutch oven and set the lid on top. The girls reappeared.

Captain followed them into the main room and pointed at a chair in full view of the kitchen. Once Susan was seated, First left to return to her work. Quarter was talking on the front porch to Gunner. Captain hesitated by the door to listen in as she slipped on her shoes. Her crew was loyal, but opinions often went unsaid in her presence. She valued them, as she should, and so wanted to know what they truly thought.

-didn’t find much in the truck, Gunner’s voice came through.

You know she killed a man today and what that can do to her, Quarter’s voice mumbled.

And she probably saved your life, Gunner pointed out. You mean way more to her than he did. That was