“What’s going on?” he asked her.
“Kyle, do you know who that is?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do,” he replied.
“If half of the stories that I’ve heard are true, that isn’t a man in there, it’s a monster,” Anna said pointing to Coal but looking at Kyle.
“A monster? Anna, how many of Murphy’s men have you patched up over the years? How many killers and rapists walk through our door every day? Why is he any different?” Kyle asked.
“Have you heard the stories? He kills for the sport of it, not to survive, not because he needs to. He is one of the richest men around, but he takes contracts and cuts off heads because he is a killer, that’s what he does. I’m not going to waste what little we have trying to keep a man like that alive,” Anna said with finality.
Kyle held his hands up in front of her, they were still covered in Coal’s drying blood. “We all have blood on our hands Anna,” Kyle paused uncertain of how much he really wanted to tell her, unsure of what it could risk.
“My last trip out I killed a man, I blew his head right off of his body. Then I shot a second man who probably died slowly and alone. I wasn’t out there to survive; I wasn’t protecting my family. I was out there to scavenge. To find anything that could keep this place running, to keep you safe in here and helping people. I was doing it for money, same as him. The same as I have done for years," Anna was looking down now, shaking her head trying to deny the truth of his words.
“Coal found me out there, he saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I would have died that night. The drugs that I found, Coal is the only reason those made it back here. He is the only reason we have a chance to escape this hell, and with his help, we’ll be able to take a lot more people with us when we go," Kyle continued, but Anna cut him off.
“I was told he came in with a few horses," Anna said.
Kyle paused. “So, then we just let him die so we can steal them? Is that what you want to do? A few days ago, you wouldn’t even consider selling a dead body to the rat farmers, now you want to let a man die so we can take what’s his?”
“That’s not what I meant," Anna responded defensively.
“Well, that’s what it sure in the hell sounded like. Anna, it’s not just the horses. This man knows the desert, he knows how to survive out there. One of the few left in town that I’m certain doesn’t work for Murphy. You want to save people Anna? You want to lead all of these people across the desert to find a better life? Start by saving that man. If you’re not willing to even try, then I’m done trying too. I’m done with this place…I’m done with all of it," Kyle said not able to look at Anna as he said the last of the words. He turned and walked away from the group.
Anna watched him go, then she raised a hand to cover her face, to hide her tears and her shame.
Kyle busied himself for the next few hours. First seeing to the Animals. With Dante’s help, he managed to get them moved to the far back corner of the compound behind the service station. He poured them each a gallon of precious water and then wiped the mare down with a damp rag. The water dripped pink from her bloody hide by the time he was done.
When they had finished, Dante asked simply. “What happens if he dies?”
“We keep them," Kyle replied still watching the animals.
“And if he lives?” Dante asked.
“We convince him to help us," Kyle said shaking his head and turning away.
“And say he doesn’t want to help us?" Dante asked, but Kyle just continued to walk away, after a few paces he stopped though.
“I want you to send a couple men we can trust over to Miles. Somebody that knows something about construction preferably, they’ll be gone a few days,” Kyle said, and Dante nodded.
“Also, from now on I want the clinic on lockdown, nobody in or out. We need to keep these animals a secret, by morning everybody will know they are here, we can’t let word get back to Murphy," Kyle said.
“People won’t like that," Dante pointed out. “It’s not like they are prisoners here.”
“I thought we always had trouble getting people to leave? You think they’ll be fighting to get out?” Kyle asked confused.
“Don’t know, but people get funny when you tell them they can’t do something," Dante replied.
“That’s for true, tell them that Coal’s ranch was hit by raiders. Everybody in town heard the shooting last night. Tell them the streets aren’t safe, even during the day, at least until things calm down," Dante was nodding at the words.
“When are you going to tell them about the plan? It’s asking a lot you know; they’ll need some time to decide.”
“After we know about Coal, if he lives, and if he’s on board. Then we tell them," Kyle replied as he walked away.
Kyle walked around the front of the clinic. The sun was just starting to crest the horizon in the East. The garage doors were down, and a faint light could be seen through the windows high in the door. Kyle walked over to the office door, he reached for the handle and paused. Then taking a breath, he opened it and walked inside. The bedroom he shared with Anna was dark, the first rays of sunlight just beginning to find their way through the drawn shades.
“I did what I could for him,” Anna whispered. The bed hadn’t been pulled out, it was still a couch, and Kyle could just see her curled up in a ball sitting in the darkness. Just in the way she said his name he could tell she had been crying. He went to her in the dark, they sat holding each other for a time, watching the shadows lighten and fade.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last.
“Don’t. Anyone would have had the same questions, the same doubts and I’ve seen Coal kill. He may not be a monster, but he can sure play the part when the mood strikes him," Kyle replied.
“I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about you," Anna shifted so she could look up into Kyle’s eyes.
“I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. Since the day we met you have done everything you could to help me, to support me, to protect me and this place. I knew that you have seen some terrible things out there. But today is the first time I realized, no, that I accepted, that you would be forced to do some of those things as well. But you have never asked for anything in return, not ever," Anna paused as if trying to read Kyle’s face in the dark.
“I was always worried about this place, about these people. But you were always worried about me. I’m sorry I doubted you, I’m sorry I questioned your plan. When I forced you to bring along all of these others, I didn’t think it would even be possible, that you would be forced to admit you were wrong. I still don’t know if it’s the right decision, to risk the desert, but I trust you. I have faith in you like you have had it in me all of these years," Anna squeezed Kyle tightly, choking down a fresh wave of tears.
“One more thing,” she added.
Anna pulled a silver chain from around her neck. A simple wedding band hung from it. Kyle knew it was all she had left of her mother. She slipped the ring on her finger.
“About time we made this official,” she said with a smile.
“I do,” were the only words Kyle could choke out before kissing her deeply.
Strange Bedfellows
Councilman Murphy had retired to his private rooms shortly after sunset, just as he did every night. He wouldn’t allow the fact that he had planned and ordered a mass murder to take place just across town to ever affect his sleep cycle. Vincent stood in front of the kingpin’s door and after a pause he quietly knocked. Silence was his only reply for a few minutes and then just as the giant raised his hand to knock again the door swung open. Councilman Murphy stood in the doorway, he wore a matching set of gray pajamas and a white bathrobe with matching slippers. His face held a look of mild irritation.
“Yes Vincent, what is it?” he asked.
“Rory sent a rider back with Tamara," Vincent explained.
“And?” Murphy prompted.
“The ranch is ours, along with the workers and most
of the horses," Vincent paused and watched as the councilman’s face hardened and then he continued.
“Coal was wounded, but he escaped.”
“Fuck! Where is Tamara?” the boss demanded.
“Waiting in your office," Vincent replied.
Murphy turned and stepped back into his room leaving the door standing open. A few moments later a pair of naked girls scurried from the room and out into the bar. Vincent waited patiently and after a few minutes Councilman Murphy emerged wearing a jet black suit and a silver silk vest with a matching tie. The councilman began walking towards his office, the bar patrons giving the man a wide berth.
Tamara sat in the high-backed chair in front of Murphy’s mahogany desk. She was still covered in drying blood; it was even clotted into dark chunks in her tangled mess of blond hair. The lingerie she wore was beyond ruined, stained with blood, dirt and smelling of smoke. Her teddy that she had purposefully torn had been hastily knotted and tied back into place, but even now her left breast still hung free.
When the door opened Tamara’s head came up and she launched herself from the chair and ran to the Kingpin. “Oh Murph!” she cried.
The councilman caught her by the arms, keeping her blood-soaked body away from his clean suit. He then leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead.
“Hush now angel,” the Councilman cooed softly and then raised a hand to gently brush the hair from her face. The hair fell away revealing the badly bruised side of her face. Her left eye was nearly swollen shut.
“Sit,” he commanded and Tamara reluctantly released him and sat back down.
The councilman walked around his desk and took his usual seat. Vincent closed the door and stepped around to stand behind Tamara’s chair.
“Murph, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for putting your faith in me and giving me this chance to, to serve you…I…” Murphy held up a hand silencing her.
“Tell me about the ranch,” he asked in a quiet voice.
“I did just like you told me. I got in and then I got him to notice me. Soon enough we were fucking, at first in secret and then he asked me to be one of his wives. I never, I never said no, no matter what he asked me to do. I did like you asked. I kept my mouth shut and I watched him and tossed the notes over the wall regularly, like you asked," Murphy held up his hand again.
“Did you do everything I asked? Did you do everything I asked tonight?” Murphy asked, anger simmering beneath his words.
“I, I killed them. His wives, all of them, I butchered those bitches. I opened the gates for the Rangers like you asked!” Tamara pleaded.
“And did you kill that fucking Indian like I asked?” Murphy demanded.
Tamara stared at the councilman for a long moment before she replied. “I stabbed that son of a bitch, I got him good, and I know that he is lying somewhere dead or dying right now!” she insisted defensively.
Murphy slowly shook his head. “You stupid bitch, you don’t even realize how badly you failed me do you?”
Tamara leaped to her feet, and Vincent took a step forward keeping her within easy reach if need be.
“A year, I lived with and lied too and fucked that pig for a year! I did my part. You owe me, you owe me what you promised me!” Tamara shouted.
“What I promised?” Murphy laughed.
“What you promised!” Tamara repeated.
“What did I promise?” the Councilman asked still smiling.
“A place here, with you, in your organization. A chance to be one of your Lieutenants, like Vincent, like that fuck Rory," Tamara replied her voice losing the edge, her anger seemingly drained from her words.
“Tamara, angel, why would I ever trust a whore with my business interests? That’s all you proved you could do this last year. You fucked when, where and whom I told you too and then got paid well for it. All the food, water, and booze you wanted. We call that prostitution honey," Murphy explained in a calm and quiet voice.
Tamara slumped back down into her chair. Her energy spent, she suddenly felt bone tired. Tired of men taking all that they wanted, using her and again leaving her with nothing. The dreams that she had cautiously allowed to grow over the last year were dead. Maybe this was truly all she would ever have, all that she would ever be.
“I’m sure we can still find a place for you here, always room for a pretty whore like you. That is if your face heals up right, I mean if that cheekbone is broken…well then…” Murphy trailed off holding his hands up and shrugging, a smirk on his face.
Tamara raised her head and met the councilman’s eyes. She knew he would never let her be more than a piece of meat, not now. She was tired, tired of this man, tired of this life. She decided then, she would rather die on her feet than live life on her back. She stood and pointed a finger into the councilman’s face.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit!” she shouted.
The smirk slid from Murphy’s face. He looked Tamara straight in the eye and then looked up past her and gave Vincent a slight nod. Tamara spun, but Vincent was already in motion. He swung for her head with a ball peen hammer. At the last moment, she tried to turn away, but the rounded head smashed into her skull with a wet crack. Tamara’s world went black. She collapsed backward, her head coming to rest on Murphy’s desk.
The councilman looked down at the dying woman, and a smile spread across his face. He glanced further down at his lap, and his smile disappeared.
“Vincent! What the fuck?” Murphy screamed jumping to his feet.
“I, I, you gave me the nod!” Vincent replied defensively.
“No, you fucking idiot, I mean look at my vest!” Murphy shouted tugging at the silver vest for the big man to see. It was splattered with a dozen small droplets of blood.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry boss, she moved, she moved when she saw you nod," Vincent babbled.
“Oh, I see,” the councilman shouted stripping off his suit jacket. “I guess it was my fucking fault then, is that it?”
Tamara’s body shivered on the desk, the left side of her head was caved in, brain and bits of bone visible through a hole near her right temple. A long slow hissed escaped her lips.
“You see, it seems the dead whore agrees with me as well,” shouted Murphy, pulling off the stained vest.
“But boss,” Vincent stammered but was cut off when Murphy threw the wadded up vest in his face.
“Tomorrow morning. I want to wear that fucking vest when I ride over to inspect our new ranch tomorrow morning. Do you understand me? It had better be perfect, I had better not be able to find a speck of blood or brain or fucking anything on it by then," Murphy shouted.
Tamara’s left arm reached up and weakly batted at her ruined skull. She gave a long wet whimper, followed by a few quick breaths. Murphy glanced down at the dying woman and then pulled his nickel-plated .45 from the humidor on his desk. Vincent’s eyes locked on to the gun.
“Yes boss, not a speck, it’ll be perfect you’ll see," Vincent insisted.
“It had better be. Now I want you to send word to Rory, have him gather up the ranch workers. I’ll want to have a nice team meeting and welcome them into the fold, that chinamen in particular.”
Tamara batted at her skull again and released another series of quick breaths that may have been a sob.
“Quite right my dear," Murphy said glancing down at her.
“If Rory hasn’t killed that fucking Indian by morning, I want you to put a bounty out on his head. Spread the word that I won’t stand for that kind of wife butchery in my fair town or something like that. Let’s say 200 chits, wait no, make it 100. Any more and people may think I may want him dead for some reason more than just civic virtue," Murphy explained gesturing with the .45 as he spoke.
“Yes, yes sir Boss," Vincent said his eyes never leaving the pistol.
“And clean up this fucking mess," Murphy said dismissively as he stormed from the room.
Tamara let out a long-wet moan.
“Oh, right," Murphy said
to himself and then stepping back through the door, he shot Tamara once in her ruined head.
Coal’s eyes came open slowly, his mouth was dry and felt like it had been packed full of cotton. He smacked his lips awkwardly and then looked down at the rest of him. He was very confused and very naked still that hadn’t changed. But someone had wiped all of the blood from his body. He was covered from the waist down by a thin white sheet. A bandage covered his lower abdomen where it seemed someone had sewed him up.
“Want some water? They said if you woke up that you would probably be real thirsty," said a voice to his left.
Coal turned his head; the movement took a surprising amount of effort as if his head was filled with sand. In the bed next to his lay a man over 6 ft, with a thick five o’clock shadow and long…purple hair? Coal forced himself to take a slow blink and then tilting his head looked again. Yep, purple hair and fingernails painted to match.
“The name is Pauli if you care,” his roommate said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.
Coal blinked again, looked away and then back at Pauli. He moved his head a bit too quickly apparently as it seemed to slosh back and forth once he stopped. Pauli was wearing a purple sequin top and a hot pink mini-skirt. Her legs were long and covered with a dark curly hair all the way down to her flip-flops, her toes were painted purple and matched her nails. She was reading a battered copy of Fabulous Magazine.
“Don’t stare too long baby, you may just fall in love," Pauli said with a grin and turning to look at Coal blew him a kiss through her bright pink lip gloss.
Coal’s head snapped back from Pauli, and he quickly looked down at his lap. His head sloshed back and forth again.
“Or don’t see if I give a shit," Pauli said turning back to her magazine.
As Coal looked awkwardly down at his lap, he noticed a strip of tape on his left wrist for the first time. A small plastic tube led from under the tape and up to his left. The plastic tube was red with blood. He turned his head to allow his eyes to follow the tube and found it leading to the bottom of a glass jar suspended from a hook above his shoulder. Curiously a second tube was attached to the top of the jar producing a steady drip of blood. Coal’s eyes followed that plastic tube down to a few strips of tape very similar to his own on Pauli’s right wrist.
To Cross a Wasteland Page 24
