Inferno – Chapter Twelve I own no rights to Firefly. No infringement is intended. Just good, clean fun for all. ------------ “Mal, has there been any word?” George Harwell asked. He had waited by Mal’s vehicle when he saw the Sheriff saying good-bye to Inara. “Nothing more than rumors,” Mal said evasively, and Harwell nodded. “I’ve heard them,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to reach Linda,” he added. “I try about once every hour.” “I heard that the smoke from the fires has the cortex blocked off pretty much,” Mal told him. “Figure that’s why we ain’t heard from Companion.” Harwell nodded. “I’m sure they’re all right,” Mal offered up. “Zoe’s smart, and capable. And she’s got some good help with her.” “If all I’ve heard is right, she’ll need it,” Harwell said sadly. Mal could only nod in agreement. “How’s everything else?” Harwell asked, closing the subject. “There’s good, and bad,” Mal shrugged. “Like everything, I guess. Speakin’ of the good, though, I want to thank you for the three men what accompanied Inara. She said tell you she’d like them back for the next run, it wasn’t a problem.” “Not at all,” Harwell agreed at once. “In fact, I’ll just send them back now. Assign them to your ship until. . .” “Right,” Mal nodded, when Harwell broke off. “I’d take it as a kindness. I worry about her, being in the black without me.” “I know,” George smiled. “That’s why I chose those men. Known them for a lotta years. All family men. Dependable, and honest.” “I’m beholden to you,” Mal said kindly, and Harwell snorted. “Remember what you said? Friends means family. We take care of our own.” ---------------- “Okay, so do we know where this Linda Mann lives?” Goldie asked as he piloted the shuttle toward Hopewell. “We know where she was living,” Jayne nodded. “No idea if she’s still there or not.” “We even know what she looks like?” Goldie asked. Jayne held out a picture of Linda Mann, her husband, and three children. “How old’s the picture?” “Three years, according to the date on it,” Jayne told him. “Shouldn’a changed too much since then.” “We’ll see, maybe,” Goldie nodded. “Looks like we’re coming up on the town. Let’s see if Kaylee’s magical map works.” He punched several buttons, and the screen popped up a street diagram. Complete with a dot representing the shuttle. “That girl’s a pure marvel,” Goldie shook his head. “She is that,” Jayne nodded, studying the screen. He pointed to a spot. “That’s the street, anyway,” he said. “We need to find 4474, Whitefall. That’s the address.” Goldie nodded, punching the information into their computer. Presently, an arrow appeared. “That way,” Goldie said, pointing north. The shuttle flew on. As the blip for the building they were searching for appeared on the screen, Jayne begin to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. Nearing the address, Goldie eased the shuttle into a near hover. Shock rolled across all three men at the devastation beneath them. More than three square blocks of what had once been Hopewell were flattened. Smoking ruins were all that remained. And right in the middle of that ruined mass, was the address they were looking for. “Tah ma de,” Goldie whispered, and Jayne nodded. “Looks like we’re not the first ones here,” Liam Greggs spoke quietly, pointing off to the east. Following his finger, the two older men saw another shuttle, larger than their own, sitting in the middle of the street. “I wonder what they’re. . .” Goldie broke off as two men suddenly emerged from a still erect building, dragging a woman between them. As they watched, the men carried the woman onto the shuttle. After a few minutes, the men returned, without the woman, and re-entered the building. “Slavers,” Jayne breathed, and Liam Greggs growled, deep in his chest. “Want to say hi?” Goldie asked. Jayne looked at him for a moment, then at Greggs. The younger man’s eyes were alight with a fire that Jayne knew all too well. “Why not?” --------------- Goldie eased the shuttle to the ground, and Jayne released his harness. Goldie did likewise, and Jayne looked at him. “Where do you think you’re going?” “To say hi,” Goldie replied, then looked at Jayne’s face. “I’m not going to say hi?” “You’re not,” Jayne nodded firmly. “You ain’t a hundred percent yet, Goldie. I had to bring you anyway, cause I can’t fly. But this is where you stay.” “Aww, kid, don’t be that guy!” Goldie whined. “Let me at least. . .” “Nope,” Jayne said shortly. “I mean it, Goldie. You stay put. On top of every other reason, you’re our only shuttle pilot. I can’t spare you. None of us can.” Goldie sobered at that. “You’re right,” he sighed in defeat. “Say hi for me.” “We’ll do just that,” Jayne promised, then looked at Liam. “You ready?” “Damn straight, boss,” the younger man nodded. Jayne grinned at his fire. “Then let’s go see us a man or two.” The two men disembarked, Goldie locking the hatch behind them. Jayne pointed in the general direction of the slaver shuttle, and the two set out. As they picked their way across the debris, Jayne wondered how the fire had started. And when. Had it been the reavers? Or had it come later, when the pirates, and the slavers, had arrived? The fire had been out for a while, he could see. The ash was already white looking, meaning it had been exposed for several days. Maybe rained on. And the wind had blown a good bit of it into small drifts. “Boss,” Greggs hissed, and Jayne looked at him. Greggs pointed forward, and Jayne followed his point. Three men were lying on the ground. All were likely dead, from the look of them. Jayne approached them slowly, Greggs maintaining a watch. Jayne liked the kid. He was steady, a good shot. And didn’t have an ounce of back-up in him. Jayne turned the first body, for it was a body, over, noting at once the bullet hole between the eyes. Small caliber round, he figured, as there hadn’t been an exit wound. He moved to the next one, and found the same thing. Sighing, he checked on the last one. As he turned the man over, he heard a groan. This man hadn’t taken a bullet to the head, Jayne realized. He’d been gut shot. As he looked to see if he had any other wounds, Jayne realized with a start that he was looking at Weldon Mann. ------------- It didn’t seem like they’d been gone more than a minute when Goldie heard a banging at the hatch. “Goldie, open up!” he heard Jayne yell, and went quickly to the hatch. Swinging it open, he found Jayne holding an unconscious man. “It’s Weldon Mann,” Jayne told him, moving into the shuttle. He laid the man on the floor, and grabbed a first-aid kit. With Goldie assisting, Jayne quickly patched the wound, working feverishly. “Get him back to the ship,” Jayne ordered, when he and Goldie were finished. “He needs Simon, and sooner rather than later.” “What about you and the boy?” Goldie asked. “We’ll keep looking,” Jayne told him. “If he was here, then his wife and kids may still be around. If they are, maybe we can find’em.” “Kid, I hate to be a downer, here,” Goldie told him, “but if he was here, shot, then the odds are that. . .” “I know,” Jayne cut him off, grimly. “But I owe Harwell, and Guilford. If I can find’em, I aim to. And they ain’t been gone long, I’m thinking. The two dead guys with Mann ain’t long dead, Goldie. I’m aimin’ to have me a look at that shuttle.” “Maybe I oughta. . .” “You oughta be goin’,” Jayne told him pointedly. “He needs a doc. Once you get him seen to, you come back here. This is where me and Liam’ll expect you. Things change, we’ll com you when we see you gettin’ close.” “Okay,” Goldie lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m going. But you watch yourself, kid. Hear? I ain’t gonna get my balls handed to me tellin’ River you’re dead.” “Don’t worry,” Jayne grinned. “She’ll likely kill you first.” With that, Jayne ducked out of the shuttle, and he and Liam took off, back toward where they’d found Mann. Goldie shook his head, closing the hatch. He lifted off three minutes later, staying low to the ground, and headed for the ship. He hoped those slavers were in the mood to co-operate. He could tell that Shade wasn’t. ---------------- “Any news from the shuttle?” Simon asked, as River walked into the infirmary. “No,” she shook her head, then smiled down at Zoe. “How are you feeling, Captain?” she asked. Zoe frowned. “To quote you, ‘like I been shot’,” she growled, and River giggled in delight. “I see you’re better already,” the little pilot teased, and Zoe grinned in spite of herself. “I feel a little better,” the amazon admitted. “How are things?” “Fine,” River assured her. “Two of the Frye’s and one of the Willis’ are standing the watch. The ship is secure, and we’re all accounted for.” “Good,” Zoe nodded. “I should be up and around in a. . .” “In a week or two,” Simon finished for her, ignoring the glare she shot him. “I’m serious, Zoe. You suffered a good deal of internal damage. There’s no way you’re going to be able to get up from there for several days. Even then, it will be slow going for another few weeks.” “Doc, there’s too much to be done for me. . .” “To add to the problem,” Simon finished for her again, smugly. “Things are running just fine. There’s no need for you to be concerned, and no reason to fret.” “He’s right, Zoe,” River nodded. “Jayne has taken good care of things. He established the watch order before he left, and made sure we had alternate plans, in case something went wrong. There is no need for you to be worrying. Try to rest and mend.” “Jayne’s in charge?” Zoe asked, forgetting that she already knew that. River frowned at that. “Who else is there?” she asked calmly. “I can’t run things. Simon hasn’t the time, and Kaylee isn’t able, even if she wasn’t needed to replace Goldie while he’s gone.” “River I didn’t mean it like that,” Zoe told her contritely. “Then how did you mean it, Zoe?” River asked, still calm. “You expressed surprise, and perhaps a bit of anxiety. One must conclude, therefore, that you were unhappy to hear that Jayne is in charge.” “It’s just. . .it’s difficult to grasp, I guess,” Zoe admitted. River nodded. “Yes, I imagine it is. But don’t worry. He’ll be back, soon enough, and then we’ll be on our way home. Once we’re there, you won’t have that worry any longer.” With that said the little assassin turned abruptly, kissed her brother on the cheek, and walked out. Simon stood there a minute, then looked at Zoe. “What was that all about?” he asked. “I guess it’s River telling me she’s unhappy with how I’ve treated Jayne,” Zoe sighed. Simon nodded. “Oh, that. Well, everyone else is too,” he told her, missing Zoe’s glare at his back. “But, we’re far too kind to say so,” he added with an unseen smirk. “Well, I’m grateful for that,” Zoe’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Simon turned to look at her seriously. “You should be,” he said simply. “Kaylee thinks you ran him off because of the fueling arrangement,” Simon informed her. “And since he did that in an effort to get us to her family quicker, she feels at fault. Not to mention that she’s confused why Jayne’s ability to get us here faster was the cause of your. . .ire, I guess.” “Doc, I ain’t having this discussion with you,” Zoe said flatly, and Simon chuckled. “River was right,” he said sadly. “You have learned too well from ‘Captain Daddy’s Leadership Manual’. You sound just like Mal.” “And that’s a bad thing?” Zoe demanded, raising her head slightly. “At times,” he sighed sadly. “At times.” ------------- Mal got back to his office to find a reporter, of all things, waiting for him. “Bev Jackson, Sheriff Reynolds, of the Bickford News. Can I have a moment of your time?” “If by a moment, you mean sixty seconds, then yes,” Mal replied warily. “That’s about all the free time I have at the moment.” She smiled. “I understand that you’re investigating a series of rather brutal murders, is that correct?” Mal nodded. “We are. Though I’d not call it a series. There was one incident, with three victims, and another with one. At this time, nothing suggests that the two were related in any way.” “Oh, come on, Sheriff,” Jackson rolled her eyes. “Everyone in the parish knows they were dealing in dash, and other dangerous drugs. How can they not be related?” “I’m not sure I understand the question,” Mal looked at her closely. “As I said, nothing at this time suggests any connection. We’re still investigating, however, so that could change.” “So you think they are related,” Jackson seized on that statement. “I don’t prefer to think anything, until the investigation is completed. I’ll follow the evidence, wherever it leads, and that will tell me what to think.” “So you’re trying not to think about it?” Jackson scribbled furiously. Mal decided he now knew what kind of journalist ‘Bev’ Jackson was. “Sorry, Miss, but your sixty seconds are up,” he smiled, and walked inside. “Messages for you, sir,” Evelyn held up a handfull of papers. “And Toby wanted to see you as soon as you got in.” “Tell him to come to my office,” Mal nodded, going through his messages. None of them were from people he knew. He sighed. This was a mistake, he decided, as he sat down heavily in his chair. I ain’t got no business being the Sheriff, here nor nowhere else. He looked up when his door opened, seeing the smiling face of Toby Bontrager. “Tell me you’ve got good news, of some kind,” Mal pleaded, and Bontrager nodded. “Very good news.”