Hunted [The Flash Gold Chronicles]

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I only mention the latter thing, because it would puzzle me,” Kali said, “seeing as how you turned down my suggestion we might go to the dancing hall last month and I’ve never caught you leering suggestively at me when I’m bent over a steam engine.”

  That drew a chuckle from him, but then another silence. She pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders. Maybe they should just go to sleep. Sebastian had left, disappearing into one of the tents.

  “When I was a boy,” Cedar said, “there was this hound that showed up in town. He was all mange and ribs, but you could tell he’d be a handsome boy if you fixed him up. He was a smart feller too. He knew how to open Old Lady Harrison’s screen door and filch her meal preparations off the kitchen counter. The dog didn’t have a collar, so I figured I could claim him and he’d be the perfect hunting companion for a boy. Trouble was, he was scared of people. He’d flinch away if you lifted a hand to pet him, and if you cornered him he’d growl and snarl like a rabid wolf. My grandpa said folks had beat him, and it’d take a passel of patience for someone to get past that fear and turn him into a friend. I, being ten or so, reckoned I was just the person.”

  Kali was quite positive Cedar had never strung so many words together in a row. She was not sure she liked the implied comparison, but she listened without interrupting, curious where he would take the story.

  “I used some meat to trick him into a pen,” Cedar went on, “and I trapped him there. I brought him food and water every day and I spent hours talking to him and trying to get him used to me. It seemed to be working. He didn’t growl so much, and he wagged his tail when I showed up. Well, I wanted to pet him powerful bad, so I slipped into his pen one day, gave him his food, and tried to get close to him. He got real still and wary, but he didn’t flinch away, so I thought everything was working like I’d planned.”

  Kali had an inkling of how the story would end, but she asked, “What happened?” anyway.

  “He bit me, jumped the fence of the pen, and ran off. I never saw him again.”

  “Am I correct in guessing you’re comparing this mangy, scrawny dog to me?” Though more amused than angry, she had a feeling she should give him a hard time.

  “No, of course not.” Cedar cleared his throat. “Maybe a little.” Another beat passed, and he switched his answer to, “Yes.”

  “At least it was a handsome and smart dog,” she muttered. “Under the mange.”

  “Very smart,” he said carefully.

  “So, this story means...you’re afraid I’d bite you if you took me to the dancing hall?”

  “More afraid I’d bite you,” he said. “And then you’d run away.”

  “Oh.” Kali caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She grew aware of her heartbeat, its rapid thumps against her ribs. Her eyes were probably huge too. Like those of a startled doe. She was glad for the darkness and that he was behind her so he could not see her face. “I...know I can be a little...standoffish at times.”

  He snorted.

  “Most times,” she admitted. “But nobody ever beat me. No scars or anything. Well, except for that one scar from the time I decided to make guncotton. Oh, and the first time I tried to make those metal dogs and incorporate the flash gold, well, that needed stitches from Doc. Marvin, but I’m not bite-you-and-jump-the-fence damaged. Really.” She winced. She meant the words, but at the same time she felt like she was trying to convince herself.

  The fire had died down, and men snored. Up and down the river, the sounds of croaking frogs competed with the gurgling water.

  “It’s possible to scar someone without touching them,” Cedar said quietly.

  “I guess.” Between Sebastian, her mother, and her father, she had certainly been hurt often enough. It was hard to dismantle her booby traps and let people get close. She was not certain she could even have this conversation—admit this vulnerability—with Cedar by the light of day.

  Cedar stirred. Since she had crawled under the blanket with him, he had been careful to keep his distance, but now he rested a hand on her waist. Her instincts reacted before her mind, and she tensed. She rolled her eyes at herself and forced herself to relax.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Just depressed. I am that dog.”

  He chuckled softly, his warm breath stirring the hairs on the back of her neck. He started to retract the embrace. Kali caught his hand to keep it there. She wrapped her fingers about his calloused palm and she shifted onto her back, turning her head toward his. Darkness hid his face, but, for what she intended next, maybe that was easiest—safest. She wanted to believe he desired a relationship with her, but nobody ever had before, not without an ulterior motive, and it was hard to believe someone like him would be the first.

  Stop analyzing this, came the thought from the back of her mind. Do it before you lose your nerve.

  Cedar must have sensed her intent for he was the one to lean close. She almost grinned when that beard stubble rasped against her jaw, but then his lips pressed against hers, and she forgot about that earlier conversation. The chilly Yukon evening grew warm. She was vaguely aware of releasing his hand and sliding her arm around him, twining her fingers into the soft, thick hair on the back of his head. The closeness of their bodies.

  Too soon, he broke the kiss. His calloused hand came up to cup her jaw, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Another night, the touch seemed to promise, when we’re not on the ground, in a camp full of strangers, with a mission to accomplish. And, as close as they were, she had no trouble believing his interest now.

  “Milos,” Cedar murmured.

  “What?”

  “My name.”

  Oh! The M on his Winchester. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she said.

  “Milos Kartes. I got close to Cudgel in Denver, and he framed me for an ugly series of murders. There may be a Pinkerton detective after me. I figured it wisest to go back to my childhood nickname.”

  “Ah.” So, someone was hunting him as well. Although it was criminals who sought her, while the law stalked him. If she continued to work with him, could that mean trouble for her someday? Did it matter, given all the trouble already courting her? Once she had her airship, she could evade those who hunted her. No need to stay in any one port for long, not when she had a world to see. Maybe Cedar would even want to come along. “Thank you for trusting me with your name. Though I must admit, your reluctance to share it had me hoping for something embarrassing.”

  A long moment passed, as if he were considering something. Finally, he said, “My middle name is Kallisto.”

  “That’s...pretty.”

  “Oh, very pretty. It was my Greek grandmother’s name.”

  “Grandmother?”

  “Yes, my mama had been saving it for when she had a girl. After only boys, she decided to pass it on to her youngest. Me. Apparently it means most beautiful.”

  Kali did not manage to keep from laughing, though she stifled it quickly. The last thing she wanted was to ruin things by offending him.

  “My Hän name is Tsul Gäh,” she said, feeling the need to match his honesty. “Small rabbit. My mother thought I was going to be a precious little daughter, not a troublemaker who disassembled the chief’s dog sled to make skis out of the runners. When I went to live with my father, he just called me, “girl,” so I decided to pick my own name, a white name. The only white women in Moose Hollow were prostitutes. Kali was the middle name of one who was decent to me. I later learned it was a Hindi name that means black. Guess I wasn’t meant to be white.”

  He did not speak for a long moment, and she wondered if she should have kept the information to herself. The explanation for his middle name was cute and endearing. Her explanation was... Well, it certainly made her childhood seem pathetic.

  “Did you ever know happiness growing up?” Cedar asked.

  “Making things made me happy. Being good at making things. If you’re good at something you like to do, it gives you the self-assurance and co
nfidence to deal with the world’s disappointments.” Mostly.

  “Then I’m glad you had that.”

  He kissed her again, though it had the brevity of a goodnight kiss. She forgave him for not offering more when he slid his arms around her and snuggled against her back.

  “I like Milos,” Kali said. “May I use it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Kallisto?”

  “Not unless you want me to use your pliers to pull your tongue out through your nostrils.”

  She smirked. “Do you always threaten women after you kiss them?”

  “You didn’t think I was a nice boy, did you?”

  PART IV

  Kali woke to something pressing against her mouth. Her first thought was of Cedar giving her a kiss, but that fantasy evaporated quickly. The pressure was too hard. It smothered her nose as well as her mouth and cut off her air. Someone’s hand. She tried to unleash her teeth, to gnash down on it. The grip merely tightened.

  She tried to sit up, but failed to rise an inch. Hands forced her shoulders down, and something across her legs pinned them to the ground.

  Darkness still blanketed the forest, but she figured out what was going on. Cedar had gone to investigate the other camp, and Sebastian was taking the moment to truss her up for...whatever stupid plan he had now.

  She writhed and bucked in the blankets, though only to disguise her real goal: she found the two smoke nuts in her pockets and yanked them free.

  “Hurry, pick her up,” Sebastian whispered.

  Trying to be quiet was he? He must fear Cedar would hear and return. Good.

  Now if Cedar’s fancy blanket weren’t constricting her almost as much as her assailants, she might be able to do something. The men—at least four of them—hefted her into the air with the Euklisia Rug still tangled about her. She gripped a smoke nut in each hand, thumbs poised to press up on the trigger tabs.

  “In the tent?” a man with a guttural accent rasped.

  They started moving her, stumbling over the rocky ground as they went. Maybe they would be more distracted now.

  “No, we don’t want her lover to be able to get to her,” Sebastian said. “We need to—argh!”

  Kali grinned fiercely as she bit down on his hand, glad he was the one who’d sport tooth marks. He snarled and let go.

  “Cedar!” she bellowed.

  One of the hands gripping her shoulder let go to reach for her mouth. The maneuver dipped her down, so her head almost cracked against the rocks.

  Sensing she had her moment, Kali yanked her arms from beneath the blanket, flicked a trigger tab, and dropped one of the smoke nuts. She twisted and used her free hand to grab the closest thing to her face. A belt. Perfect.

  Something slammed into her back. She almost dropped her second smoke nut, but she managed to yank on the belt and stuff the device down the owner’s trousers.

  Unfortunately, she was as close to the smoke weapons as the men. Kali burrowed back into the cocoon of blankets, squeezed her eyes shut, and dug for the knife at her belt.

  “What did she—”

  “Damn it, move!” Sebastian yelled. “It’s one of her things!”

  Whoever held her legs dropped them. Kali thrashed, though she made sure not to leave the padded shelter of the blankets. The last man with a grip on her lost it, and she hit the ground, a hard nodule gouging into her side. She rolled away, not wanting to smother her own artillery.

  She did not hear the click that heralded the release of the metallic shards, but yelps of pain told the story. Though she was rolling away as fast as she could, several projectiles struck the side of her blanket. A couple burrowed through the material and her clothing, slicing into her skin. It was not as bad as it would have been if she had no padding though, and she scampered out of the blankets without permanent damage.

  Smoke from the weapon stung her eyes. In the darkness, she struggled to see what was happening, but angry shouts of “It got me!” and “Get it out!” told her where people were. Agonized screams came from the man who had taken the projectile in the pants. Given these thugs’ goals, she could feel little remorse.

  Kali patted about, looking for her rifle. They must have taken it. She could not find her packsack—her tools!—either. Damn Sebastian. He must have moved all her belongings first. Damn her heavy sleep too.

  Knowing the smoke nuts would not buy her indefinite time, she scrambled away from the camp. All the fires along the shoreline had gone out, and clouds hid the stars and the moon. Only the sound of the river helped her navigate. Though she was on the wrong side of the waterway, she headed in the direction of the Wilder camp, hoping Cedar had heard the commotion and was coming to help.

  “Which way’d she go?” one of the men behind her snarled.

  Kali kept running, not bothering with stealth. The pained curses of the most injured man pierced the night, and concerned calls from other claims covered her retreat.

  “Get her, you idiots,” Sebastian yelled. “She’s worth a lot of money.”

  That quieted some of the outcries.

  A blocky shape loomed out of the darkness ahead of Kali. She threw out her hands to keep from crashing into it. Hard, cold metal met her touch. A couple of seconds of groping allowed her to identify a steam engine and furnace. Had flames been burning in the firebox, she might have come up with a creative use for the machinery, but she merely noted it was probably used to aid in digging and that a mine shaft would be nearby. She skirted the area.

  “Sebastian?” came a man’s whisper from ahead of Kali.

  She froze.

  “I lost track of the big bloke with the gun skills,” the speaker went on, raising his voice. “Sebastian, is that you?”

  “Stay up there,” Sebastian yelled to the man. “She may have gone that way. Head her off.”

  Boots crunched on river pebbles. Kali eased back until she bumped against the boiler. She hunkered in its shadow, hoping it would camouflage her. A hint of dawn brightened the sky, and it would grow harder to hide soon.

  “A hundred dollars cash to whoever finds the girl,” Sebastian called.

  At first Kali thought he was still trying to rally his men, but an answering call came from a claim downriver. “What’s she look like?” That wasn’t one of Sebastian’s thugs.

  “A woman!” Sebastian called. “There aren’t many up here.”

  “Oh, right. You want her dead or alive?”

  “Women ain’t no good dead!” came a call from across the river.

  Kali thunked her head back against the boiler. The entire Sixty Mile River was going to be after her in a minute. She glared down at the puny knife she still held. If she had her pack, she would have tools and supplies and might be able to build something. In lieu of that, her rifle would be handy just then too.

  “Anyone who touches the woman dies.” That was Cedar. Good. His voice came from across the river. Not good. How had he gotten over there and how long would it take him to return? She had not seen any boats.

  “Says who?”

  Kali had no idea who that was.

  She patted around the dormant steam engine. Maybe this claim held something useful she could use. Since nobody had come out to check on the ruckus, she figured the owners were in town.

  “The last man you’ll ever see if you hurt her.” Cedar’s voice was closer. He must be on the shoreline directly opposite from her.

  In the growing light, she thought she could pick out his tall form over there, but she dared not call to him. She patted the ground, found a stone, and hurled it in his direction. The surrounding shouts kept her from telling if it splashed down or clattered onto the bank next to him, but she hoped he heard and guessed where it had come from.

  A shot fired. It originated in Sebastian’s camp, and she had little trouble guessing the target. Her stomach churned with concern for Cedar, but it was best to leave him to his own devices and figure out a plan of her own.

  Kali returned to her inspection of th
e equipment. Her knuckles bumped against a wood box. She found the lid, opened it, and groped inside. Charcoal and a smaller box containing long wooden matches. She grabbed the latter, though she did not know how she might use them yet.

  More gunshots fired, going back and forth across the river, and the chatter died down. So far no bullets had slammed into the ground near her, but the scout was still standing guard up ahead—she could make out his dark figure now too—-and he was bound to see her if she made a run for the forest.

  On her hands and knees, she crept around the boiler, still hoping to find something she could use. Her fingers brushed air. The mine shaft entrance, nothing but a hole in the ground with a pipe leading into it. Not digging equipment after all. Maybe some sort of heating system to thaw the permafrost and make it easier to work? If so, there might be a whole network of tunnels beneath her.

  Tunnels she could get herself trapped in. She shook her head. Going in was not a good idea.

  Unless...

  Could she make them believe she had gone in, get them all to follow, and then escape into the forest while everyone was searching the tunnels? She better check and see how extensive the system was first.

  Hoping the one-man-versus-the-entire-river gunfight Cedar had started would give her time, she eased over the lip of the hole. She probed for a bottom with her feet. There. Five feet below.

  She released the lip and dropped to the bottom, clunking something with her elbow on the way. A lantern stuck in a niche in the wall. She grabbed it and followed the piping system into a low tunnel that led away from the river. The walls radiated coldness and smelled of damp earth. Creeping into the Stygian darkness made her think of the tombs and sepulchers in a book she had once read about the Dark Ages. The gunfire grew muffled and distant. When she judged herself far enough from the entrance so the flame would not be visible, she lit the lantern.

  Pickaxes and shovels leaned against dirt and stone walls marbled with quartz and thin threads that might have been gold. For all she knew about mining, it might have been iron pyrite too.