“Thanks for coming,” Doctor Bauer began, stepping out from behind his desk.
Thomas, arms crossed at his gray vest, stood sturdily beside a larger man in brown overalls tucked into work boots. The mayor’s confident pose—not to mention the shotgun hanging from his shoulder—was a stark contrast to the dark-haired man’s hunched posture and wrung hands.
“I wanted to give the mayor an update on the young woman in our care, and I know Hudson has an update of his own concerning her.”
“Yes, sir,” Hudson bobbed his head, balling an oily handkerchief in his tan hands as the young mayor kept his eyes firmly upon the doctor.
William leaned forward to glance through the open door leading to the medical ward. “Would you care to join us, ma’am?”
The woman in question was sitting on the edge of her bed with her hands folded in her lap. Her downcast eyes lifted on William’s urging, and she quietly obeyed, taking her place at the doctor’s side.
“I’m happy to report she’s made a full recovery,” William smiled. “I can discharge her from my care, but there is a question of where she should go from here.”
“That’s not much of a question considerin’ we’ve got the answer,” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Hudson?”
The mechanic opened his mouth, only to mash his lips together and cautiously answer, “Well, sir, her ship is... inoperable.”
The woman shrunk back.
“Inoperable?” Thomas’ scowl deepened.
The dark-haired mechanic pocketed his hands, and the handkerchief, into his overalls. “Yes, sir,” his head dipped. “Everything that’s damaged is well beyond any repair I could manage. Besides, we’ve got no parts for it; nothin’ around here is built the same.”
The woman bit her lip. She could feel the tension rising in the room, and that only further twisted her insides as she tried to process what an inoperable ship meant for her.
William gave a short nod when it appeared no one else would be responding. “Thank you, Hudson. I appreciate you taking the time to look it over.”
“Oh,” Hudson’s form perked up, “now, me and Paw could certainly use a few things from it, like the fuel and some of the panelin’—if it’s all right for me to take it apart,” he added, glancing at the woman worriedly.
“I... um,” she found it difficult to answer.
“We’re not takin’ nothin’ apart!” Thomas spat.
“...I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have to—”
“Keep workin’ on it,” the mayor stressed as Hudson again pocketed his hands and hunched forward. “See if you can figure out some other way to fix it.” He shook his head. “She ain’t staying here!”
Anger flickered in her chest; a fire that had not been sparked in some time. She did not like how this man was belittling the mechanic—much less her. “She is in this room; you can speak to her directly,” the woman spoke before she was able to restrain herself.
“I beg yer pardon?” Thomas tilted his head, asking facetiously.
“You heard me.”
“All right,” he stepped forward, squaring himself up with her. “You’re an alien from space who crashed here out of the blue—and we’re supposed to just treat yeh like you’re part o’ the family??”
“I’d appreciate at least being treated with a little more respect,” she growled.
“Respect!” Thomas’ expression contorted and he lunged forward. “You give me a single reason why we can trust yeh!!”
His posture alone was enough to trigger a previous memory of another man who used his body against her. She instantly crumpled, dropped her gaze, and turned her head away.
“Mr. Hiller,” William instantly threw a hand out to block his approach when he noticed her reaction.
“Well??” Thomas ignored him and yelled louder.
The fire in her veins strengthened her, and she shot forward into William’s outstretched arm. “What have I done to make you not trust me??” She shouted, red-faced.
This startled Hudson more than anyone else in the room, though even the mayor had taken a step back at her outburst.
A light rapping on the door cut the confrontation short, and soon, a middle-aged woman in a peach dress made her way inside with a pot in her hands. Margaret froze when she saw the varied faces glaring back at her.
Thomas’ arms were tight at his sides and Hudson’s chin was pressed against his barreled chest. The nameless woman was scowling at the ground, and William stood among them with concern obvious upon his face.
“Am I interruptin’ something?” She asked hesitantly.
“No, ma’am; we’re just finishing up.” William stressed more to Thomas than to Margaret.
Carla peeked around her mother, still outside the door. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I was just bringin’ dinner for our visitor—and for you and Lillith of course.”
“She ain’t lookin’ like a visitor anymore,” Thomas muttered under his breath, garnering a weak grimace from the woman in question.
“Thomas is in there? Momma—can I—please—” Carla finally squeezed past her mother and found herself face to face with Thomas. Her toothy grin, however, did nothing to soften his lingering frown.
William brushed past the couple to accept the pot from Margaret. “Thank you, ma’am; this is very kind, but I don’t expect you to keep this up, you know.”
“Oh, I know; but it’s the least I can do,” she gave a curt bow. “Our chickens and goats are producin’ well this year, so we’ve got a bit more to go around.”
“You know, the upstairs of our house beside the shop is still vacant,” Hudson piped in with a finger raised, turning to the woman. “Paw and I can fix it up for you, if you need a place to live.”
“So, we’ll throw more resources we don’t have at her?” Thomas growled.
“Would you rather us throw more resources into a ship we can’t repair?” William’s voice was heavy with cynicism.
Thomas offered a grunt and turned toward the door. He stopped when Carla blocked his path. His anger faded sharply when he met her fierce gaze.
William glanced between the pairs of eyes within his room, concluding with the darkening eyes of the woman at his side. He finally turned back and gave a short nod. “That would be very kind of you to do that, Hudson,” he returned them to the previous conversation. “I don’t mind covering the cost of this or any of these meals—”
“No, I want nothin’ else but to help—and I know Paw would, too.”
Margaret’s hands grasped at the doctor’s arm. “You do so much for this town already. It’s about time we all pitch in.” She turned to the woman, offering a smile.
Thomas’ weakened scowl bruised further when Carla’s narrow eyes continued to burn into him. With dampened spirits, he ripped his arm from Carla’s grasp and dejectedly pushed his way out the door.
“I’ll work on him.” Carla reassured with her arms crossed.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Of all the boys in this town—”
“Not now, Momma!” The teen threw her hands in the air and followed the woman returning to the medical ward. Her demeanor instantly shifted to wide-eyed delight when the woman sat down at the edge of bed and noticed she had been followed. “Hey!”
The woman’s expression and posture did not change. Only her cold green eyes had shifted to meet Carla’s.
“How’re you doin’?” The teenage girl sat beside her.
“Considering everything that’s happened in the last two weeks,” the woman offered dully, uncomfortably leaning away from Carla. “It’s no wonder I’m having nightmares,” she added under her breath.
Carla’s exuberance flattened. “You’re having nightmares?”
The woman shrugged, glaring at the ground.
“But now you’re gonna be movin’ in above Hudson?”
Her eyes darted sharply to Carla. “No! Well—I...” she ended her attempts at speaking with her lips pressed tight and her body twisting away.
“I mean, once you’re better,” she paused. “Are you better?”
“I don’t know.” The woman spoke to the floor.
Carla grasped her hands together in her lap against her pink dress and apron. “You know, if you want—and you’re feeling up to it—you’re always welcome to come to the chapel with me.”
She swallowed, her head moving ever-so-slightly towards the girl at her side.
“When I’m having a hard time, it helps to bring my troubles to God. And it helps me to focus better when I go there, away from all the rest of this world.”
The woman found herself intrigued, though much of it was from the strangeness of hearing Carla’s voice free from her usual accent. It seemed the calmer she was, the less her words would get cut and mashed together.
“I believe in him, and I know he’ll take care of me. He’ll take of you too.”
The woman took a slow breath. “I’m not sure he would want me.”
“‘Course he would,” Carla offered a warm smile.
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
Carla curled inward at her bristling remark. “You could tell me,” she offered almost as a question.
“No.”
Her brows curved in sadness and she wrung her hands together. “Just... know that no matter what it was, he can forgive you,” she spoke softly. When the woman didn’t offer a response, she quietly rose from the bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
She nodded simply without raising her eyes. Her mind had shut down; too much had happened, and too much was happening. She could not think about how she could be forgiven. She could not think about attempting to face what she had done. The flicker of anger rising within her and the way she crumpled—it scared her. It reminded her of what had happened that had led to the deaths of hundreds.
The door at the far end of hallway burst open and the town’s nurse flew harriedly inside. “Will, they’re in the streets!!” Lillith shouted as she rushed down the hall.
“Mm—stop yelling, Sue!” Mr. Hennessey grumbled from his bed, half-asleep.
“That wasn’t me, you nincompoop!” Mrs. Kirkland shot back.
William grew tense while the others in the office shared his expression. “The beasts? In broad daylight??”
Lillith bit her bottom lip, her panicked expression more than enough of an answer.
The nameless woman watched as the small group turned to peer out of the office window. Curious, she stood and squeezed in beside Carla. She caught a glimpse of a dark, wooly form in the shadows between the buildings down the road. Townspeople were rushing wildly away.
“What do we do?” The woman asked them, watching a man waving a pitchfork towards the creature.
Lillith glanced at her. “Wait for the aftermath,” she admitted despondently while Hudson shook his head and Margaret retreated from the window.
“Thomas!!” Carla suddenly pressed her hands upon the glass.
Sure enough, the young mayor had rushed onto the scene wielding his shotgun. He fired a shot, knocking the beast backward. He then had to stop and reload, giving the beast time to climb back to its feet in the process.
The woman turned back to the medical ward, finding the end table beside her bed in view from the open door. She walked towards it, slowly at first, only to gain speed as she ducked down and pulled open the drawer. She threw the extra dresses out of the way and pulled out her sonic blade. Gripping the blade firmly by its leather handle, she ran across the hall, through the office, and out the door.
Thomas fired another shot into the beast’s wooly hide, and it barely fell back before lurching forward. He struggled to pop open the barrel and dodge the creature, dropping his bullets in the process.
Footsteps and a glint of silver redirected both the beast’s attention and the mayor’s when a woman in a long blue skirt and a blade in her outstretched hand slid between the two of them.
Thomas stammered in shock. “Hey—what’re yeh—”
“Go away!” She shouted at the beast. “You’re not taking any more of these people!!”
The beast cautiously backed away from her, though its yellow eyes swiveled upon the tendrils atop its head as attempting if to better focus on her—and the faint blue light shimmering at the end of her blade. Its lips tugged around its knife-like teeth. Its four arms took turns repositioning itself and covering its multiple wounds, now oozing with yellow blood.
The woman kept her knees bent in a ready stance. Her narrow eyes, and her pointed blade, followed the creature’s every move, though her eyes widened as it straightened upon its back legs to its full height. The mass of wool, teeth, and arms now stood a good three feet taller than her.
It let out a growl and attempted to dive at her, but the woman swiped the blade through the air and cut across its middle. It squealed and recoiled, and with a loud shriek, it dove at her.
The woman dodged, flipped her blade in a reverse grip, and carved through its side with a wide slash. It again bellowed painfully and collapsed to the ground—leaving Thomas an opportunity to fire a round into its head. It heavily flopped to its side, at last unmoving.
The woman straightened, giving a wary glance at Thomas as he lowered his rifle. He looked at her in stunned surprise.
“Look out!!” The man with the pitchfork yelled.
The two turned their heads to see a second beast barreling from the shadows on all six limbs. Thomas fell back to reload, and she rushed towards it with her blade held out at her side. Seemingly effortlessly, she slipped to its side and dipped the blade. She sliced through two of its limbs before it tripped and fell over itself, rolling up to Thomas’ feet. He dipped the barrel of his shotgun into its head, but it shot upright and knocked the barrel into the air moments before he pulled the trigger. The shots blasted into the corner of the house instead.
Thomas let out a yell, half from the frustration of striking the house and the other half from the fear of having a very angry beast looming over him. He tried to use his gun as a battering ram, but the beast swiped past it and caught his cheek.
The woman grit her teeth rushed at the beast before it could land another blow. She leapt onto its back and thrust her blade into its hide. It immediately uttered a gurgling cry, writhing and bucking to remove her. She finally jumped off before she was slammed into a nearby house, but she didn’t get far when the beast clawed at her dress and drug her down with it.
She tried to roll back to her feet, but the bloody beast threw itself upon her. It roared in her face, teeth inches from her glasses. In this moment, she remembered her sonic blade was equipped with a blaster.
She shut her eyes and fired the blaster into its side. Both were engulfed in a burst of flames.
Thomas’ hand fell from the side of his face in shock as townspeople screamed and rushed away in horror.
The beast rolled off of her as it fought in vain against the fire ripping across its wooly hide, and she turned on the ground to douse her clothes. But as a flame painfully licked past her arm, she noticed the burn mark fill and fade to pink.
She was interrupted when the burnt beast rushed at her while she was still on the ground. Shouting with rage, she thrust the blade into its stomach. As she used the resistance to push back to her knees, the beast sunk further until it collapsed to its haunches. As a final move, the beast hacked blood into her face, at once covering her glasses in slimy, yellow fluid.
She angrily pulled out the blade, glanced over her glasses, and fired a blast into the space between the creature’s eyestalks.
Another wave of fire engulfed them, and the ailing beast screamed a final cry as it fell backward onto its deceased companion.
The nameless woman also staggered back and collapsed, holding her arms up to shield her eyes. At once, she was grasped by her shoulders and pulled away from the flames.
“No!” Thomas laid her down as he tried to pat down the flames on her body. “What were yeh—what did’ye—gah!” He fought through the beginnings of phrases before he fell onto his knees. “William!!”
The doctor, already running towards them, recognized the same frightened tone from when the mayor had first discovered the unnamed woman in her ship. He quickened his pace.
“Oh, my goodness!” Frieda gawked at the fire and blood-stained warrior now wincing on the dusty ground. “Is she all right??”
The doctor collapsed at the woman’s side, grasping at one of her hands to inspect her arms. His eyes widened. “You’re not burned??”
She groaned and looked at her arms and legs in relation to the charred portions of her dress. Her clothing was streaked with black and the fabric was crisp from the cinders. Her skin, however, only bore faint pink scars.
“Thomas!” Carla was next onto the scene, falling to her knees as she clutched her boyfriend’s face and began to wipe away the blood with her apron.
Thomas, however, would not remove his eyes from the woman on the ground beside them, still trying to process what he had just seen.
Behind them, the man with the pitchfork had begun to laugh. “We’re safe!!” he shouted. “The beasts have been killed!”
“I hope the rest of those damned beasts can see this!” Another quipped.
“Yeah—we hope the rest of you saw that: we have a fire-maker on our side!” The man pointed his pitchfork at the flames and shouted in victory.
Frieda had her hands clutched at her chest as she watched the man dance through the street. “I thought for sure I was going to lose Joseph like I lost my Arianna and Ella,” she winced, only for her sorrow to squish into proud determination. “But Thomas and her—they rescued him, and all of us.”
The doctor returned his attention to the woman, shaking his head. “I had no idea you were capable of such a feat.”
“I couldn’t just watch,” the woman frowned as she tried to get up, using him as a crutch to steady herself while she clutched her weapon in her other hand.
“I thought that seemed important,” he said, handing her a handkerchief from his pocket as she continued to scowl through her dirty lenses. “The goggles seemed important, too.”
“They would have helped,” she offered a mild smirk as she removed her glasses to clean them.
Thomas also stood up, leaving Carla on the ground. The side of his face was still smeared with blood from two gashes that ran from his ear to his nose. His blue eyes, however, were wide as he stepped up to the nameless woman. He watched as she returned her glasses to her nose, following her arm as it fell back to her side. Not even the remnants of scarring were left from her burns. He then met her eyes, a mixture of confusion and regret across his battered face. “You saved Westfall from the beasts,” he uttered.
“And she can make fire—I saw it!” Carla clutched Thomas’ arm, bumping the shotgun looped over his shoulder. “And see—she won’t get burned!”
“You risked yer life fer us.”
“Is that a good enough reason to trust me?” The woman asked the mayor softly.
The regret deepened as Thomas bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
She accepted with a nod. “Thanks for helping me.”
The smallest hint of a smile pulled at Thomas’ lips. “I wa’n’t doin’ much.”
“The Wildfire saved us!” Joseph shouted, holding the pitchfork in the air and leading a chant that repeated the name. “The Wildfire! The Wildfire!”
“Yeh are a proper Wildfire, aren’t yeh,” the mayor returned his eyes to hers. “A good deal unpredictable... but powerful.”
“The Wildfire! The Wildfire!” The chanting continued behind them.
William glanced at her. “It would seem you’ve been given a new name.”
The Wildfire watched the scene as if it were still taking place behind her smudged glasses. It was surreal: hearing the chants, cheers, and praise—all directed at her. She could feel William’s hand on her back, caught the glances of Carla and Hudson, and, for the first time since her arrival, she could see a measure of respect in Mayor Thomas’ gaze.
In that moment, she truly felt as if she were a part of this small community called Westfall.
Still, a pang of guilt throbbed deep within her mind. A part of her did not want to be a part of the community.
And, as she watched the burning corpses flicker in the street, another part of her feared her continuing ability to kill.
She gripped the sonic blade in her right hand. Maybe the Wildfire would be a fitting name after all.
Chapter Notes