Disclaimer: I just love this little Verse that Mr. Whedon and friends created and own. I am so happy I can sneak in and visit. Translations are at the end.

The Butcher (4 of 4)

The tap on the door sounded like gunfire. He was shooting the Butcher over and over. With each shot, the image of Miguel’s belly opening up under the vicious blade happened again and again, interspersed with images from long ago. Images of soldiers slaughtered like cattle and of old men, women and children mutilated and murdered for no other reason than the pleasure of it. The knocking on the door got louder but the gunfire in his head blocked out everything else.

The door opened silently and the Preacher stepped in, a pile of clothes on one arm and boots clutched by fingertips. The Captain was still lying the in the bathtub, up to his chin in water. The light was low, but Book could see Mal’s right hand gripped the side of the tub so tightly that the knuckles were white under the tan acquired in the last two days. The left was over his eyes and he seemed to trembling. It was several seconds before Book realized the man was not asleep. He was in some other place.

Book tried to back quietly through the door again. He realized was invading the privacy of a very private man. But, before he could step outside, Mal dropped his left hand to his chest and tilted his head back to glance at the Preacher.

“Are those for me?”

“Yes, I came to bring these and tell you dinner will be ready in a few minutes. I’m sorry I disturbed you.” Book set the clothes and boots down again and stepped toward the doorway.

The Captain sat up and twisted to look up at him again. “I’m obliged you did, and for fetchin’ these.”

“Do want Simon to look at your shoulder?”

Mal touched the abrasion made by the bullet. It was oozing a little blood and clear fluid. “Yeah, I suppose it’d be a good idea. I don’t have so many shirts that I can afford to ruin another. And, it wouldn’t be good manners to bleed at the dinner table. Thanks.”

Book squatted and began to gather Mal’s soiled, bloody clothes and boots. “Let me take these. I’m sure Franka wouldn’t mind having them washed for you.”

“Burn them. Burn everything.” Mal didn’t even look at him as the Preacher stood with the bundle.

By the time he was out of the tub and dressed, except for his shirt, Simon tapped on the door with a handful of bandages and ointments. He sat Mal on a chair and quickly cleaned and bandaged the shallow groove.

“How’s the boy and his teacher doing?” Mal sat patiently through the Doctor’s ministrations. He was daubing antiseptic on several small abrasions as well as the shoulder wound.

“Lucas is in surprisingly good shape. He has some sunburn and was a little dehydrated, but other than that, he’s good physically. I’m a little worried about his mental and emotional well-being, though. He has been severely traumatized.” He finished taping the gauze over the wound. “The tutor will recover, but it’ll take time. He was severely beaten and hadn’t been given much water for two days. Any longer out there and I wouldn’t have given much for his chances.”

“Thanks, Doc. ‘ppreciate it.” Mal stood and rolled his shoulder to test it then slipped on his shirt. “He’s a brave kid and folk around here seem to take care of each other. How much more time do you need here?”

Simon exhaled slowly in thought. “Twenty-four hours, if at all possible. I had to amputate a man’s foot and I want to make sure it won’t go sour. And, the tutor could have some internal injuries. I’d like to observe him for a day.”

As they left the bathroom, Zoe came from a room down the hallway, followed closely by her husband. Her hair was still wet and she was also dressed in fresh clothing.

Wash pointed at Mal, but talked to his wife. “See, I told you. They have more than one bathroom.”

Peter met them at the top of the stairs. “It is one of the very few luxuries we have. Mrs. Fong was a genteel lady from the Core. Master Charles built this house for her and their children. Our wells are quite deep. We can use all of the water we need or want. I take it that the facilities on your ship are a little more limited, Captain.”

“You could say that. Just not enough space to carry the water.”

They walked down the stairs and into the dining room. Peter turned, blushing. “I meant no offense, Sir.”

“None taken. It‘s been a welcome thing for us.” Mal grinned at him. They started down the stairs. “I thought there was only one son?”

“Yes. Sadly, there was only one child for the Fong’s. But, they treated all of the children here as their own. I grew up with Matthew Fong. We were very close.” Peter smiled.

The dining room was a different scene to the one Mal and Zoe saw just the day before, as was the rest of the house. Kaylee had quickly repaired the heat exchangers which lowered the temperature inside the house to a comfortable level now that the broken windows had been patched. While all evidence of the raid would take some time to erase, everything possible had been cleaned up and set in order. The large table was set for twelve, with Charles Fong already seated at the head.

Dinner was quiet, but satisfying. There was a reluctance to mention the afternoon’s events, so everyone avoided the subject. And, when Charles Fong asked Mal to speak with him after the meal, they all breathed a sigh of relief. It allowed for polite conversation without having to deal with folk that dies at the ranch yesterday, Miguel or the dozen bodies at the well.

*****

Simon helped Peter settle Fong into his bed then turned to Mal. “Fifteen minutes. No more. He went downstairs against my express wishes. I’m going to check on Lucas and his Mother. I’ll be back in…”

“Fifteen minutes.” Mal finished for him with the ghost of a grin “Don’t worry, there ain’t much to tell.”

After the Doctor left, Mal sat in the chair Peter indicated near the bed. The young man made to leave the room, but Fong waved him back. “You should hear this, too, Son.”

“The Doctor says you have agreed to stay until tomorrow night.” Peter looked hopeful.

Mal smiled at him. “Simon wants to make sure all your folk are okay. And, we don’t have anyplace else to be right now.”

The Captain took only ten minutes to tell the story. He polished over the fact that Miguel’s role was supposed to be restricted to that of a guide. He also left out that his death was avoidable if he had only ridden a little faster or a few feet wider of Fontaine. Instead, Mal told them that the old man had been very courageous and sacrificed himself for Lucas and Kevlan.

“The man called Simmons was actually Calvin Fontaine. He was about as close to evil as can still breathe and call himself human. To be honest, I am surprised he left anyone here alive.” Mal stopped and stood up. He turned away for a moment, then back. “Mr. Fong, there is no good way to tell you this. Fontaine killed Miguel, but my bullet stopped his heart. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your honesty.” Fong smiled sadly. “My grandson said something earlier that makes more sense now. I know it must have been very difficult for you.”

“That’s kind of you, Sir, but it ain’t a whole lot of help.” Mal nodded. He bit his lower lip before continuing. “About the boy, Mr. Fong. He saw things today that no grown man should ever have to see. He’ll need careful watchin’ for a long spell. Don’t let him bottle it up. It’d just twist him up inside, and he’s too young for that.”

A tap on the door prevented the old man replying. Simon stepped inside. He looked from Mal to Fong to Peter and back to Mal as he crossed to the bed.

“I’m just leaving, Doctor.” Mal headed for the door.

“Captain?” Fong stopped him as Mal turned to close the door. “Thank you. I truly did not expect to see my grandson alive. I am indebted to you and your crew.”

*****

The near-full moon lit the way back to Serenity. The Doctor was staying at the house again to be close to his patients. Kaylee, River, Inara and Jayne were already back onboard before others left the house. For their own reasons, Zoe and Book wanted to wait for Mal to finish talking with Fong, and Wash just wanted to be with his wife. The Captain was a little dismayed when he saw them. He wanted to be alone for the walk back.

A short distance from the house, the Preacher spoke softly to Mal. “So, it was Calvin Fontaine?”

Zoe, a few paces ahead with Wash, whipped around. “Excuse me? Fontaine?”

“Yeah.” Mal stopped in front of her.

Wash hovered at his wife’s side. “You really knew this guy?”

She ignored him. She was more than a little annoyed. “You knew he was here? And, when were you thinking of telling me?”

“I didn’t know it was him until you’d gone.” Mal made to move, but she blocked him. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Are you sure it was him?” She didn’t budge.

“Yeah, it was him. I heard his voice a coupla minutes after you left. Then, I saw him.” Mal’s voice sounded weary. “He won’t be cuttin’ up anyone else.”

“So she was right.” Wash shuddered slightly.

“Who?” Zoe started to walk again, but slowly.

Wash shrugged. “River. She mentioned Fontaine and that it had started. Shepherd got all excited. That’s why we were coming out to find you.”

“Hmm. She did, did she?” Mal muttered. “What did she say?”

The Shepherd cleared his throat. “It was my fault, Captain. As soon as River mentioned Fontaine, I felt we needed to warn you.”

“You could’ve gotten the boy killed.” Zoe looked hard at her husband, who shrugged sheepishly.

Book spoke again. “Well, from what River was saying, it seemed that you had already started the rescue before we were half-way to the well. I knew that he would have assembled the worst kind of men.”

Mal came back to the conversation. “We were lucky.”

“What about the man who went with you?” Wash was a little shocked.

“He was dead as soon as Fontaine got his hands on him.” The Captain walked up the cargo bay ramp, followed by the others.

“Xiong meng de kuang ren!” Zoe almost spat. “He was a butcher who enjoyed cutting up folk just for no reason whatsoever.”

“He’s dead. It’s late. Get some rest.” Mal turned to Wash. “I’m gonna take a few of Fong’s men out to the well early to bury the bodies and fetch the saddles.”

“Why? Let ‘em rot.” Jayne was picking up several of the weapons from where he’d dropped them earlier.

“Smell would keep the livestock away from the water.” Mal started to climb the stairs. “And, yes, Preacher, you can come say words over them if you feel the need.”

*****

Serenity was silent very quickly. Shepherd Book sat in the lower common area, Bible open on his lap but unread. It was a few seconds before he realized the noise he heard was someone coming down the stairs in the cargo bay. The footsteps were light, but familiar. They reached the bottom and headed for the door to the ramp. Unsure whether to follow, he didn’t move until the door opened and the footsteps faded outside.

Making a decision, the Preacher stood up suddenly, almost dropping the Bible to the floor. He set it on the chair and followed the Captain outside. Mal was several yards from the bottom of the ramp, sitting in Kaylee’s folding chair and watching the moon drop towards the horizon. He did not turn.

“I thought I told everyone to get some sleep.”

“You actually said to get some rest. And, I was, reading.” Book drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “What about you? I should imagine that you’d be quite tired tonight.”

“To the bone, to be honest.” He took a sip from a fair size flask then offered it to the Preacher.

Book accepted the flask and sipped. To his surprise, the liquor was a good quality whiskey. He handed back the flask with an appreciative nod.

“Yes, I know what good booze is and occasionally indulge in it.” Mal drank again then put a finger to pursed lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

“How much have you had to drink, Captain?” Book jiggled the flask when Mal handed it back. It was almost full. He returned it without drinking.

“Not enough, Shepherd. Not near enough.” This time, the Captain gulped a mouthful. He slouched in the chair and stretched out his legs. “I don’t think I could tonight.”

“Do you mind some company for a little while?” Book looked down at Mal, who had not taken his eyes from the moon.

Mal tugged at the flask again and waved it at the expanse around them. “No questions?”

“No questions.”

Mal inhaled deeply, enjoying the open air. He absently swirled the liquid in the flask then put it to his mouth for another swallow. He suddenly stood up, grabbed the back of the chair and headed for a small rise nearby.

“Let’s go up there.”

“Is it true?” Inara came down the ramp and hurried to follow. Her voice was accusatory and angry.

The Captain continued to climb, but Book hesitated. “You comin’, Preacher?”

When they reached the top, Mal put the chair down and offered it to the Companion. The watery light faded all colors, making her ethereally beautiful. He looked down at her.

“Is what true?”

“Jayne said you shot him. Did you?” She remained standing.

“You don’t want to go there.” His tone was even, but firm. He offered her the chair again, as well as the flask. “Make yourself to home. Care for a little refreshment?”

“No, thank you.” She refused both. “Well, did you?”

“Sit.” He pointed to the chair. The hard edge now in his voice made her reluctantly comply. As he sat on the ground next to the chair, he glanced toward Book, who seemed to be wanting to leave. “Stick around, Shepherd. I don’t want no questions about this later. ‘Sides, Inara don’t mind, do you?”

Mal didn’t look at her or wait for an answer. “I assume you are referring to Miguel. Yes, I ended his life. But, before I did, that insane bastard cut his belly open from one side to the other. Mind you, it weren’t deep enough to kill him. Just deep enough to spill his insides out. And then he began to cut him from the belly, up. Miguel just pushed the knife in as far as he could.”

Inara brought one hand to her mouth and tried to get up. Mal reached up and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay. “You can’t leave yet. The story’s not done.”

“Mal…” Book stepped forward.

“No, I insist. She wanted to know if I murdered that old man.” He looked at the flask but set it on the ground without opening it. “She should hear everything.”

Inara settled in the chair again and tried to sound cold. “Thank you, Shepherd. I’ll stay.”

“Let me start at the beginning. Zoe and me came across Fontaine’s work a coupla times late in the war. He had about twenty-five men in his unit. They worked for the Alliance, but I doubt you’d find mention of ‘em in any official reports. They were used to intimidate the locals and get information, and there were no questions asked.” He turned his head toward Book. “What did you hear about him, Shepherd?”

“Not much. Mostly rumors about a man called Fontaine and his men killing villagers. The stories were usually dismissed as exaggerations or isolated incidents. The name popped up a little too often, though, to reject the stories out of hand.”

Mal turned to look at him. “Hmm. One of these days, you are gonna tell me.”

The stars gave just enough light to allow him see the grim smile on the Preacher’s face. “Yes, one day. I promise.”

“Once we went into a village on Sheridan right after Fontaine and his bunch left. They’d enter a small town nice as pie then they would round up all the folk there and…” He offered the flask to Inara and Book, who both refused, then dropped it on the ground without opening it. “He’d give the women and children to his men for their amusement and force the men-folk to watch. Fontaine’s crew was gathered from prisons and insane asylums. He was barely able to keep ‘em under control, but he did ‘cause he was worse than any of ‘em, and would kill any of ‘em that was a serious threat to him.

“When they finished with the women and children, he would start on the men. Some were killed outright. I suppose because they probably didn’t know nothing. The rest he’d cut up slow. That’s how he got to be known as the Butcher. Didn’t matter these folk had never even seen an Independent. He never left anyone alive.”

“What about the children?” Inara whispered.

“Killed ‘em all. It wouldn’t be wise to leave behind witnesses, would it? Fontaine didn’t have any feeling about life except his own. The man was almost like a gorram Reaver walkin’ around in the world.”

“Maybe he was.” Book rubbed the back of his neck. “He was definitely a sociopath. But, you recognized him today? How?”

“I talked to him once when I was on recon in an Alliance held town. Drinking establishments are a good source of information.” He offered the flask again. Again, it was refused. This time he took a mouthful. “Some folk say a little too much once they’ve had a few. I was sittin’ at the table next to him, but didn’t know who he was at the time. Didn’t find out ‘til I reported back to my commander. Bastard wouldn’t let me go back.”

Inara bowed her head then looked at him. “Did the Alliance really allow him to do those things?”

“Yes, they did. I heard they had a coupla units like his. Only difference was that he was the worst and he lived through the war. But now he can’t kill anyone else now.” Mal spoke slowly and his voice was distant. “He got a hold of two of my men once. Skinned ‘em alive, but left their faces so we’d know they were when we found them.”

He fought to keep emotion out of his voice. “Yeah, I shot and killed Miguel. Then I picked up his guts and stuffed them back into his belly. I wrapped him up and brought him home to be buried with the wife and grandson that bastard murdered two days ago. Fontaine was using him as a shield. The only way to stop him from killing the boy was to shoot the old man. Miguel knew that, so he pushed the knife in to the hilt.”

“My God. I’m sorry, Son.” The Preacher put his hand on Mal’s shoulder and squeezed. Then he stood up. “I might turn in now.’

Mal picked up the flask and opened it. “Would you be kind enough to see Inara to her shuttle, please? I think I’ll enjoy the scenery for a tad longer.”

“I’ll be happy, too. Don’t stay too long. You need to get some sleep, too.” Book stepped around Mal and gently helped Inara rise. She was trembling. As they walked down the slope, she glanced back but said nothing.

Mal drank more of the strong liquor, swallowing twice. He closed the flask again and laid it on the chair. He wished it would numb him for just a little while even though he knew it wouldn’t. A few minutes later, he lay back and watched the stars on their slow march around the sky.

*****

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to go tomorrow. They’re just going to bury the bodies.” Wash was hoping to persuade his wife, even though he knew it was hopeless. He sat on the bed and watched her pace in their cramped quarters. “Mal said it was this Fontaine and that he’s dead.”

Zoe glanced at him. “You don’t understand. You can’t. You didn’t see what the Butcher did. I need to see his body. I need to see his dead face myself and know he’s dead. I really took no notice this afternoon. I need this, Dear.”

He nodded and smiled at her. “Okay, but I’ll fly us out there. Oh, don’t worry, I don’t need to see him. I just want to be there.”

She stopped and sat next to him. “I knew there was a good reason I married you.”

*****

One of the ranch hands, a foreman, approached Mal, Zoe and Wash as they waited by the shuttle. He was a big, burly man and wiped the sweat from his face as he neared. It was still early, but the temperature was already close to one hundred.

Zoe had not said a word since she stared down at Fontaine’s blood-stained body. The face was visible, though, and she burned it into her memory. As the ranch hands began to dig a mass grave and gather the dozen bodies at the far end of the gully, she walked up to the spot where the Butcher fell. She stood there, stony-faced for three or four minutes, eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Finally, with a long exhale, Zoe turned and walked back to the shuttle.

Mal was anxious to be out of there. He did not move from the side of the tiny ship from the moment it landed. Wash tried to follow his wife down to the well, but Mal silently reached out and grabbed his shoulder, holding him back. Wash opened his mouth to protest, the Captain merely shook his head once. Wash nodded and waited next to him. They both hoped the makeshift funeral would be quick.

“Captain, we’re done burying the dead. Your Preacher is saying words over them.” He looked back at the large, long mound of newly turned earth. Book was standing at one end of the mound, Bible open in his hands. “If you don’t mind, we would like to catch the horses and pick up the saddles. “They’re too valuable to lose.”

“Not at all. Take whatever time you need. ’Fraid we might not be able to squeeze ‘em in, though.” Mal nodded towards the small ship that had barely fit all of the men they brought out to the well.

The man waved his hat at his men and chuckled. “Just want to cut ‘em loose from each other so’s they won’t get all tangled. Our own horses will come back to the homestead on their own. The others we’ll catch in the next muster. We can stack up the saddles and sit on ‘em. We’re much obliged to you, Captain, Ms. Zoe.”

“We didn’t have anything better to do today.” Mal shrugged and half smiled.

“Well, we are obliged, all the same. You got these heathen and brought young Lucas and Mr. Kevlan home safe.” He hesitated, smoothing his hair with a calloused, dusty hand. “Captain, we know you did your best and want you to know we don’t hold no blame against you for Miguel. It was all that liou mahng and his men. We’re grateful for you treatin’ him with respect when you brung him home to us.”

Now Mal hesitated. “That’s kind of you, and I appreciate it.”

The foreman half bowed then turned to watch his men for a moment. He tipped his hat and began to walked away. “Won’t keep you good folk out here much longer. The boys are almost done catchin’ them nags. We are beholden to you and your crew, Captain.”

*****

Serenity slowly lifted off and made a long graceful arc through the bright moonlight and into the black. After setting course and engaging the autopilot, Wash joined the crew at the dining table. Mal was counting out ten equal shares of the reward money, one for each human being and one for the ship’s upkeep and fuel. He was relieved that they would have enough for some much needed parts.

Jayne swung between grumbling about non-combatants getting a full share and delight at all the cash. “Well, they really didn’t do nuthin’ so I don’t get it.”

“Bi zui!” The Captain finally had enough. “I told you from the get go, everyone was doin’ a job, so everyone gets an equal share. Why are you arguin’ what’s been decided?”

“Well, I’m just sayin’.” Jayne let it drop when Mal pushed a stack of currency in front of him. The mercenary grinned and started counting it, closely inspecting each bill.

The Captain quickly passed out the rest of the money to everyone except Inara. The Companion was conspicuously absent. He folded her share, along with his and Serenity’s, and pushed it into his pocket.

“I don’t understand.” Simon frowned after Mal as he walked into the kitchen and began to pour a cup of… he opened the lid and looked in…and thought better of it.

“Well, I hear you did some mighty fancy work, Doctor. And, that River here helped out as she could, too. So, you’re entitled to your share of the reward.” Mal flashed a brief smile, then looked at River with a barely perceptible bow of his head. “Take it, Son. You earned it.”

River lowered her eyes, then looked up and smiled as wide as was possible and began to smooth out each bill with great care. When Simon held out his hand to take hers, she quickly swept up the pile, rolled it and held it close with both hands. She glared at him until he nodded and dropped his hand.

When he saw Kaylee’s look of disbelieve, Simon held up his hands. “I just want to put it away, that’s all. You keep it safe.”

Kaylee smiled and tucked her share into a pocket. Book held the money in his open hand for several seconds before bowing solemnly towards the Captain without a word.

Mal left them talking about what they would buy with their reward money. He pulled the money from his pocket and peeled off Inara’s share as he climbed the stairs to her shuttle. He knocked on the closed hatch door. After a few moments, it slid open.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly.

Inara compressed her lips then stepped back. “I’m tired, Mal. What do you want?”

He followed her, but stopped just inside the hatchway. “I’m not here to argue. I came…”

“What?” She clasped her hands at her waist.

“I came to give you this.” Mal held out the money. She looked at it then up at his face.

“What is this for?” Her tone was suspicious. She moved back one more step.

He frowned and looked at his outstretched hand, trying to work out why it disturbed her. “It’s your share of the reward. Everyone gets an equal share of this one. Doc says you worked hard, so you deserve it.”

Inara didn’t move. He was too weary to try to figure out what she was thinking. He stepped far enough into the room to drop the money onto a small table. “I know it ain’t much by your standards, but it was fair earned. Job we did was legal and needed to be done.”

Mal walked back to the hatch, stopped and half turned. “We got another job possibly coming up over near Raleigh. If nothing comes up after that, we’ll head for someplace for you to get off. It’ll be three, maybe four, weeks. Will that be soon enough for you?”

She nodded once and he left, hitting the control to close the door as he stepped out.

****

Translations:

dong ma? – understand? huh choo-sheng tza-jiao duh tzang-huo – mongrel scum tzao gao - shit guay – hell liou mahng - bastard chao-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo - Animal-fucking bastard tah-mah-duh-huun-dan: Mother-humping son of a bitch yaoguài - monster Kwan Yin! - Goddess of mercy! whoo dahn - stupid bi zui - shut up ma shong – hurry, fast huh choo-sheng tza-jiao duh tzang-huo - Mongrel scum xei-xei – thank you Xiong meng de kuang ren - Violent madman