Dante was cradling Kyle’s shotgun and stifling a yawn as the pair crossed the street to the clinic.
“Morning Dante,” Kyle called out.
“Morning Kyle, I’m sure glad to see you,” Dante replied. “You had us worried, not coming home, Anna especially.”
“Yeah, I know. I have some explaining to do. Speaking of which, I need a favor,” Kyle asked.
“Shoot,” Dante replied.
“Take a couple gallons of water down to Walter at the rat farm. Get us some meat for tonight’s soup pot.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dante nodded.
“Also ask him how much he would want for a bulk trade, say…” Kyle trailed off and looked back at Coal. The Indian held up a hand with his fingers out in reply.
“Say 5 lbs. of dried meat. We’ll need it by tomorrow,” Kyle finished.
“Tomorrow then?” Dante asked.
“Yeah, looks that way. We’ll make the announcement after supper,” Kyle added, and with a nod, he and Coal stepped inside the clinic’s walls.
“Is 5 lbs. going to be enough?” Kyle asked the Indian as the men threaded their way through the RVs.
“It’ll have to be for the first couple of days. Then I can hunt us up some fresh game along the way,” Coal replied.
The men neared the service station and parted ways without another word. Coal walked in thru the open bay door, back to his bed in the infirmary and Kyle towards the office and his own bed. Kyle reached for the door, but it opened before he even touched the knob. Anna wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest.
“Sweetie it’s okay, I’m back,” Kyle whispered.
Anna looked up at him tears were rolling down her cheeks, but there was fire in her eyes. “Where were you? I thought, I thought, maybe he killed you,” she demanded angrily.
“No, my love, we’ve been able to stay one step ahead of Murphy and his goons, so far,” Kyle tried to reassure her.
“Murphy? No, I meant Coal!” Anna replied.
“You don’t have to worry about Coal. I mean he kinda tried to have me killed, but then I almost killed him and well, well we worked it out. Then the Indians decided not to kill us, so, so that worked out too,” Kyle babbled and looking into Anna’s eyes he immediately regretted.
“I need to sleep,” Kyle said and stepped inside.
“You were in the Nation? Why?” Anna demanded following him back inside.
“Making friends, I think,” Kyle said sitting down on the couch and pulling off his boots.
“I don’t understand,” Anna said obviously frustrated.
“I’ll explain it all tonight, at supper, that’s when we’ll tell everyone. Then we’ll see how many will be coming with us,” Kyle explained rubbing his eyes.
“What can I do?” she asked, seeing for the first time how bone tired Kyle was.
“Check out the people. Figure out who’ll need to ride in the wagon and who is able bodied enough to walk. I don’t know how many’ll want to join us, but it’ll help to know who’ll need to ride when it comes time,” Kyle said leaning back onto the couch.
“Okay, anything else?” she pressed.
“Yeah…get some, medical stuff…and put it into a…bag…,” Kyle began but quietly fell asleep before he could even finish the sentence.
Across town, a boy walked into Murphy’s club. He stepped up to the bar and waved over the massive bar tender.
“What the fuck do you want little boy?” Vincent growled.
“I need to talk to someone about collecting a reward. Last night two men on horseback killed by brother and my Pa, one of them was an Indian.”
Within the hour, Murphy’s club was a hive of activity. Dozens of Murphy’s men had been called in from his operations all over town. Rory walked into the Councilman’s office, Vincent was already there along with a half dozen other of Murphy’s handpicked men.
“About fucking time!” the councilman shouted at the Ranger.
“What’s going on?” Rory asked.
“Coal was spotted in town last night, he was on horseback along with another man,” Vincent said.
“Who?” Rory asked.
“If we knew that we would be out killing them already,” Murphy shouted and then continued.
“He was last seen down in the industrial sector. There is a lot of big empty buildings down there, so maybe that sneaky fuck has been hold up with his horses in one of those buildings. Maybe that’s why Rory’s men have failed so completely in finding him,” Murphy said looking at Rory pointedly.
“So this is what I want, Rory you and the Rangers I want you south of town, spread out and watching for that bastard to make a run for the desert. We have called in every swinging dick that’s not guarding the water or this building. So Vincent will be leading a block by block, building by building search of that whole area. Kill anyone that gives you trouble and find this fucker,” Murphy commanded, and his men began to pour out of his office.
“Vincent,” the Councilman called stopping the giant in the door.
“I want you to send someone down to talk to that old Engineer specifically. That boy was right next to that old hermit’s place when he crossed paths with Coal. See if he saw or heard anything last night,” Murphy commanded.
“Will do boss,” Vincent replied.
“And Vincent, whomever you send, make damn sure they understand how important it is we keep that old man alive. I don’t want him hurt,” Murphy added.
“Yes boss, I know just who to send,” Vincent replied.
Miles had slept in, the late-night excitement and hurried preparations had taken its toll on the old man, more so than even he wanted to admit. The old Engineer rolled over, and Juan was standing just next to his bed, the boy held a chipped coffee mug, steam still rolling off its top. Miles smiled at the boy, and Juan smiled back.
“I don’t suppose you brewed a cup of actual coffee, did you?” Miles asked looking up at the boy.
Juan frowned in response and handed the old man the cup with an apologetic look in his eye.
“Ahhh wild herd tea, again, should have guessed,” Miles said smelling the brew and then sipping it cautiously.
He let out a long sigh and added. “Thank you, Juan, it’s perfect.”
The boy’s face lit up at the simple compliment.
“Still if you just happen to turn out to be the Great Grandson and long-lost heir of Juan Valdez. Well feel free to pony up actual coffee anytime in exchange for room and board,” Miles said and then took another drink of the tea.
Juan watched Miles drink curiously, obviously not getting the reference.
“I mean tea, well tea is nice and all. In fact, they say it’s better for you, but son it’s been almost 15 years since I had a real cup of Joe. I mean we have given up a lot of things, but coffee, well hell, that’s just a low blow,” Miles took another sip and then added while looking up at the ceiling.
“Did you hear me fate or god or…whatever? That was one step too far!” Miles lamented at the ceiling and took another small sip of the brew.
Almost in reply, a heavy boot hit the steel steps outside of the passenger car. Juan was in motion before the second step landed, sliding under the bed with a speed only terror could muster. Miles was on his feet when Brooklyn began pounding on his door.
“Open up old man, we need to have a talk,” Murphy’s goon called through the heavy steel door.
Miles' heart was beating a mile a minute, were they on to him? To Kyle’s plans?
“What do you want Brooklyn?” Miles yelled back.
“We just need to talk, we‘ve been sent on a little fact-finding mission by the boss,” Brooklyn replied through the door.
“So nothing’s wrong with the pump then?” Miles asked at a loss for words and stalling for time.
“No, nothing’s wrong with the pump, other than your Greasers have turned into lazy pieces of shit!” Brooklyn yelled back.
“Get off my porch. I’ll be out in a minute,
” Miles called.
“You got one minute then,” Brooklyn replied, followed by the sounds of heavy boots retreating off of the railcar.
Miles wasted no time he hobbled over to the rack of pipe rifles and selecting a gun at random. If Brooklyn saw him with a gun in his hand, he would know something was wrong. Miles grabbed a screwdriver from the nearby shelf. The rifle’s pipe barrel was held in place by a series of metal hose clamps. He feverishly began to loosen the clamps from the rough wooden stocks.
“It’s been one fucking minutes Miles, where the fuck are you?” Brooklyn’s muffled voice demanded from outside.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to put pants on over this leg?” Miles screamed in reply as the last clamp gave way and the pipe barrel came free in his hands.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Brooklyn yelled in reply.
A few moments later Miles emerged from his railcar.
“About fucking time,” Brooklyn shouted.
Miles moved on unsteady feet, using his crutch to prop him up. He gingerly climbed down the back of the passenger car. Brooklyn, along with another one of Murphy’s men were leaning up against a dusty display case nearby. Miles' eyes glanced around the shadowy museum, it looked like it was just the two men.
“What do you want?” Miles demanded stopping a few feet away from the pair.
“What do I want he asks,” Brooklyn repeated loudly looking at the other goon and grinning.
“This has nothing to do with what I want old man. If this was about what I wanted, well then, we wouldn’t need you around, I can tell you that,” he said now grinning at Miles.
“This is about what Councilman Murphy wants. Councilman Murphy asked me personally, to come down here and get some answers out of you. I’m to beat them out of you if need be,” Brooklyn added.
Miles swallowed and found his throat was suddenly very dry.
“And what’s the question?” he croaked.
“See anything funny, anything unusual around here last night?” Brooklyn asked his grin now gone.
“No, can’t say as I did,” Miles replied quickly.
“Nothing? Well did you hear that gunshot at least?”
“The gunshot? Yeah, I heard the gunshot,” Miles replied carefully, knowing half the town had probably heard it.
“Seems it was real close to here, just over on the next block actually,” Brooklyn explained.
“Well, sounds do funny things in an old building like this. That and I’m usually in bed, inside of my car by sundown. That wouldn’t help me hearing something like that,” Miles replied.
“Right, right,” Brooklyn said nodding his head, as turned and looked up at the high ceilings of the massive structure.
“You know, a building this big, with all of these railcars and things. A man could hide out pretty easily in a place like this, maybe even a man with say a few horses,” Brooklyn said and turned back to watch the old man’s face.
Miles face may as well have been carved from stone, he didn’t even breath.
“Any chance that could happen? Without you even knowing about it I mean? With the building being so big, you being so old, and like you said, the funny things that sounds can do?” the little man pressed.
Miles just shook his head and said simply. “No chance.”
“Okay, okay, that’s all we came down here to ask you. It doesn’t really matter though if you seen them or not. The boss has us searching this whole part of town, building by building. So you can bet sure as shit we are going to find them,” Brooklyn replied, he then watched Miles for a long moment before speaking again.
“You know we should do this more, just talk and all. I think you and I, we have more in common than you might think,” Brooklyn said.
“You wouldn’t know this but when I was a kid, back before all this,” Brooklyn said gesturing around. “I use to love trains, I couldn’t get enough of them. In fact, I use to play hooky from school and spend all day, all day, down at the railyard.”
Miles remained silent just watching the little man.
“Can you guess what my favorite car was?” Brooklyn asked.
“The engine, kids always love the big locomotives,” Miles said confidently, and even Brooklyn’s no name accomplice was nodding.
“Most kids yeah, but me, no, not me,” Brooklyn replied now glancing between both men.
“Out of all the rail cars out there, the passenger cars, the dining cars, the boxcars, the cabooses, you want to know what my favorite cars were Miles?” Brooklyn asked.
Miles was silent, but his heart was pounding in his ears.
“Which one?” the other goon prompted.
“Me, I was always a fan of the cattle cars,” Brooklyn’s eyes settled back on Miles and then asked.
“Got any cattle cars around this place? You know the ones I mean, the ones with built-in troughs and ramps, the kind of things that cows and sheep and maybe even horses are kept in,” Brooklyn pressed.
“Yeah, I got a few cars like that,” Miles replied slowly.
“Show them to us, all of them,” Brooklyn commanded.
Miles nodded and pointed down the line of cars. He stepped forward and began to make his way in that direction one painfully slow step at a time. While his face was grim, his heart was racing. He knew they were done. Brooklyn would find the horses right in the cattle car where they had left them last night. He would be forced to tell Murphy everything. Kyle, Anna, Coal, they were all as good as dead. Would Murphy kill him? Would he need to? He could just grab Juan and keep them both close, make them live at the tower where they could be watched. No, no he decided.
The nameless goon walked a few steps in front of Miles as they moved down the row of railcars. Brooklyn was just a step ahead of him within arm’s reach to his right. Miles knew this was the time, he would never get a better opportunity.
Miles overextended his next step and he only had to half fake the fall. His right arm reached up and grabbed Brooklyn’s shoulder for support.
“Watch it you broken down old fuck,” Brooklyn shouted and half turning reached out to help hold Miles up.
“Sorry, sorry!” Miles began, “It’s this crutch.”
Miles raised the crutch that was under his left arm as if to show it to Brooklyn and pointed it squarely at the other man. Taped to the inside of the crutch was the barrel of the pipe rifle. Miles pulled the trigger, and it went off in a cloud of dirty smoke. Murphy’s nameless goon fell backward and died without uttering another sound, his body ripped apart by dozens of pieces of lead shot.
Brooklyn spun to face Miles, but the old engineer still held a firm grip on the smaller man’s shoulder. Miles dropped the now useless crutch and raised his fist to strike at Brooklyn, but the younger man was faster. He hit Miles in the face once and then again before he could recover, and now Miles was falling backward and it was Brooklyn holding on to him.
“You stupid old fuck, you’re a dead man, you and that boy!” Brooklyn shouted and struck Miles again.
The world began to shift and move in Mile’s vision, he lowered his head trying to protect his face from Brooklyn’s quick punches. His left hand brushed a hard object on the front his bibs and his hand wrapped around it. Brooklyn pulled his arm back to deliver another blow, and Miles' arm shot forward the screwdriver firmly in his grip. The narrow head punched through Brooklyn’s dirty shirt and buried itself all the way to the handle. Brooklyn looked down dumbly at the handle sticking out of his gut, both men shocked at what Miles had done.
“You fuck,” Brooklyn shouted in obvious pain.
Miles pulled the screwdriver free, causing Brooklyn to scream and then the old man drove it in again and then again. The engineer was old but the muscles he had made over 30 years of railroad work hadn’t left him completely, each stab struck deeply. He stabbed, again and again, holding the younger man close, pulling him into each thrust. Brooklyn’s knees buckled, and as he fell, he grabbed at Miles desperately trying to stop the killing thrusts. His hand
caught on the front of one of Miles pockets, but it ripped open before Brooklyn could use it to pull the old man down with him.
It didn’t matter, Miles fell backward breathing hard covered in the other man’s blood. He lay there for a moment trying to get his racing heart under control and rein in his breathing. He sat up and looked over at Brooklyn’s bloody body. Miles could see the man was no longer breathing.
“Juan! Juan! JJJJJJuuuuuuaaaaaaannnnn!!!!” Miles screamed desperately.
A few moments later the boy came running from the shadows. Juan didn’t look at Miles, his eyes were locked on the bodies of the dead men.
“Juan, Juan, my boy come here,” Miles panted, and Juan looked at him as if he just noticed he was there. Concern plainly on his face and with tears forming in his eyes, the boy dropped down to Miles side.
“I’m okay Juan, I’m okay. I need you to do something, something very very important,” Juan was nodding tears rolling freely down his face now.
Miles reached into his side pocket and pulled out the small notebook and grease pen he always carried. He wrote a few lines and then ripped out the sheet, folding the paper neatly he shoved it into Juan’s hands.
“Boy, you have to get this to Kyle, remember like I told you, just follow the arrows painted on the street. You run the whole way. You don’t stop, not for nothing. You give this note to only him or Doctor Anna. You remember her?” Miles asked, and Juan nodded shaking tears from his face.
“Good, you’re a good boy Juan. Now go, you must hurry. If you don’t, we’ll all die. Go Juan,” the boy stood, sniffing back tears and nodded to the old man on the ground.
“Go,” Miles said again, tears now rimming his own eyes.
Juan turned and gripping the note in his hand ran back into the shadows headed for the street.
To Cross a Wasteland Page 31
