I am not nearly as foolhardy as I was in my youth, though, at times, this doesn’t say much about me. I am pleased to say that this day, I did not play the part of the fool.
Before returning to Tregaskis’ estate, I stopped off at Coffin Farm and spoke with an old friend of mine: Rebekah Coffin. She was undeniably the finest shooter I knew, and I was pleased beyond words when she agreed to accompany me on my task.
We left shortly after the destruction of the undead guard, gathering supplies and weapons as we went. There was little time to spare.
By noon, we were back at Tregaskis’ estate, and by one she was in position to protect me. With her at my back, I advanced upon the building. I knocked on the door and shot the man who answered. From outside the heavy walls of the main building, I heard the steady, careful firing of Rebekah, and I knew that a man died with every shot she fired.
I made my way deeper into the house, killing everyone I met. As I ascended the stairs to the second floor, I heard Tregaskis ushered to another room. Where he hoped to hide, or how firmly he believed in the prowess of the hunters, I didn’t know.
I lost track of the number of times I reloaded the pistols, or of the number of men whose bodies I stepped over. In the basement, I knew, I would find the undead. That would be for later when I would stake them all and burn their corpses.
When I reached Tregaskis’ room, I found it guarded, and I killed the two men, pumping six shots into each. It took me a moment to realize they were more than mere men.
Like men, however, they died.
Soon, Rebekah and I had the floor secure, and we began the laborious process of prying Tregaskis out of his room. He was like a tick, bloated, and hidden behind the walls.
But we had plenty of time when it came to digging him out.
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