by Tonia Brown
“Where are we, anyway?” Dodger asked after a few hoarse barks.
“Somewhere just north of the new state of Texas, I should think,” the doc said.
“You think?”
“Ched tells me that we were at least half a day away from the northern edge of the state before the big bang. That puts us somewhere inside the Colarodo Territories.Or perhaps New Mexico. It’s hard to tell just where we are precisely without navigational equipment. And we can’t board the line until that gas dissipates.”
“Ya need me to fetch shomethin’ elsh, shir?” Ched asked. Unaffected by the gas, the driver had been a boon to the crew. He’d spent most of the afternoon hauling goods from the gas-ridden line. Everything from bed linens to books, one had but to ask and Ched would fetch it forthwith. That was to say, he’d fetch it forth with a whole lot of grumbling, but forthwith all the same.
Which left Dodger feeling even more useless.
“No, but thank you, Ched,” the doc said.
“It would help to know if there’s a town nearby,” Dodger said.
“And that’s why Feng has gone scouting. He will let us know what he finds when he returns.”
“I should’ve gone with him.”
“I assure you he is quite adept at this sort of thing. Let’s just enjoy the quiet evening. Yes? It’s been quite some time since I’ve had an outing like this. Even longer since I slept under the stars. I don’t get off the train as much as I used to.”
While the others had enclosed accommodations, Dodger and the doc were under Lelanea’s orders to sleep out in the open until the effects of the gas wore off. Dodger didn’t mind sleeping under the stars. He had slept in much shoddier locations, and with far worse company.
“You can always travel into town with me, sir,” he said. “Whenever you like. Just say the word. I’ll keep you safe and ward off any unwanted attention.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dodger,” the doc said “but do believe I’ll pass. I gave up on making personal appearances years ago. I found myself at the business end of far too many firearms. One loses the taste for such visits when one ends up with a rifle in one’s face more than once.”
“I guess one does.”
The doc yawned wide. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to catch a quick nap. All this chatting has left me a bit woozy.”
“I told you to keep quiet,” Lelanea said. “That goes for you too, Dodger.”
Dodger fell silent and tried to do as asked.
He clasped his hands together and twiddled his trembling thumbs.
He checked his pocketwatch. Six in the evening. The sun would be down soon.
He drew in and exhaled with an enormous yawn. Twice.
He watched as Lelanea excused herself and slipped into her tent.
He drummed his fingers on the edge of his cot.
He tried not to imagine her slipping out of those mannish clothes and into her feminine dressing gown. Or the red undies she probably sported underneath.
He rolled over and eyed the silhouette of the train in the distance, a steady stream of gas pouring from her windows.
He rolled onto his back and checked his watch again. Two minutes after six.
He huffed and sat up on the edge of the cot. “How long will it be before-”
“Forty-eight hours,” Lelanea said from the open flap of her tent. “For the last time, it will take Torque two days to vent the gas properly. Until then, no one goes near the line. Now lie back down and quit your whining. I swear, you’re like an anxious little boy.” Her piece said, she ducked back into her shelter.
Dodger folded his arms over his chest. “I am not whining. I just don’t like being bedridden.”
“Then get some rest,” Lelanea said from the depths of her tent. “The longer you stay put, the quicker you’ll work the chemical out of your system, and the faster you’ll recover.”
Dodger could feel his lower lip begin to tremble. He didn’t want it to tremble, but he couldn’t make it not tremble. Oh how he hated this! He supposed it was what he got for trying to save the day. Boon was right. He should’ve let Ched go after the med kit and Feng. But even as Dodger thought it, he knew he had done the right thing. It was his place to make sure the crew was safe, no matter the cost to him.
Even if that cost was being bored out of his skull.
Ched joined the circle of tents once more, dumping an armful of oddly uniform logs in the center. Where he got logs when there were no trees about, Dodger had no idea.
“What are you doing?” Dodger asked.
“Gonna get ush shome warmth goin’,” Ched said. “That shun will be down shoon, and I reckon it’sh gonna be a might bit chilly tonight.”
“Don’t you think the tents are a little too close to where you’re building that fire?”
Ched looked left, then right, then to his pile of logs again. “No.”
“I think you’ll find they are.”
“Show?”
“Show? Show if you light that fire here, it’s just gonna torch the tents. That’s show!”
“No it won’t.” And that was all the man had to say on the matter.
Dodger was of a mind to just let the man burn everything down. That would teach him!
Ched continued to build his fire, stacking log upon log until they formed a loosely built cabin.
“Teepee is better,” the doc said, without even opening his eyes.
“Cabin ish besht,” Ched said. “Teepee will jusht tumble. Cabin keepsh itsh shape.”
The doc kept his eyes closed throughout the entire conversation. “Be that as it be, I designed them for a teepee shape.”
“I don’t care. Cabin ish what I’m ushed to.”
“They will radiate heat more effectively as a teepee.”
“And you’ll be more effective if you shut up, shir.”
This said, Ched rapped the top of the cabin a couple of times until the logs began to glow. And yes, they radiated a warm, gentle heat. Not enough to catch anything aflame. Just enough to keep everyone comfortably warm. Another one of the professor’s marvelous inventions, no doubt. The thing even emitted a light campfire scent.
Ched turned to Dodger with his rictus grin spread wide. “Told ya show.”
“That wasn’t fair,” Dodger grumbled.
“Life ishn’t fair.”
Neither is death, Boon whispered.
“You can shay that again,” Ched added in a low voice before he slipped inside his tent.
Dodger rolled over to his side, away from Lelanea’s shelter, and asked in a hushed whisper, “Where have you been?”
I tried to follow Feng, like you asked.
“Where did he go?”
I said I tried. I couldn’t follow him. I wanted to. I would love to speak with him again, but when I began to follow him north, he said a few words in that language of his, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to go in the opposite direction.
“Probably another prayer of some sort. I wonder what his game is.”
I don’t know. Why do you think he’s avoiding me?
“Maybe the same reason he’s been avoiding me.” Dodger pondered this for a moment, then made a note to think about it later. He yawned again. “If you didn’t follow Feng, then where have you been?”
I decided to follow my urge and go exploring.
“And? What did you find?”
Not much. There is a small town about five miles south of here. Little else, I’m afraid.
“Tell me about the town.”
A hundred folks, maybe less. A small saloon with but a few rooms to let. A church, a general store and a fairly large blacksmith shop.
“That’s good to know.” Dodger couldn’t explain it, but knowing just that little bit more about his surroundings made him much more comfortable. Or was it the fact that he knew and the others didn’t? Maybe a bit of both. He yawned again.
How are you faring?
“I’m fine.”
You’re shaking like a lea
f.
“It’ll pass. Soon, I hope.”
You were incredibly brave today.
“I just did what needed doin’.”
No, you went beyond your call, Dodger. When you thought the doc was dying, you jumped right back into that gas without a thought for your own safety. Then you lingered long enough to hunt for Feng. Had I been alive, I can’t say I would have done the same. You’re twice the man I ever was.
“Thanks, Boon. But from the way folks talk, there’s more to you than you give yourself credit for.”
“What’s with all the whispering?” Lelanea asked.
Dodger jerked at the intrusion of her voice. He rolled over and found her wearing a gown similar to the white one of the previous evening. This one was pink, with small lacy flowers all along the trim.
“Nothing,” he said. “I was just talking to myself.”
Dodger wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear a faint chuckle, just at the back of his mind.
“I see,” she said. “And do I need to wake Uncle to make sure that’s not some strange side effect of the gas?”
“No,” Dodger assured her. “It’s just a side effect of being bored.”
“I am sorry, but you should be past the worst of it soon enough. I’m surprised the gas didn’t put you out completely. You breathed quite a fair amount.”
“I have a pretty strong constitution.”
“You do now. All things considered.”
Dodger wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he didn’t ask, for fear of sounding as defenseless as he felt. He gave another yawn. Why was he so tired? He’d lounged around all afternoon. How could that make you so sleepy?
He blinked his sleep-heavy eyes as he watched Lelanea shuffle back and forth between the doc’s cot and the fake fire and the tents. What she was up to, he had no idea. It wasn’t her actions he was watching, anyway. She stood high on tiptoe to hang a sunbox from the peg at the top of her tent flap. Her pink-clad, curvy form stretched into a long dart of feminine beauty.
She looked so much more like a woman than she usually did.
A very pretty woman.
Lelanea glanced over her shoulder at him. “Excuse me?”
“He shaid you look like a very pretty woman,” Ched said from the depths of his tent.
Dodger hadn’t realized he’d spoken the words aloud.
“I don’t know whether to thank you or strike you,” she said.
“I just meant that pink suits you,” Dodger said. “I’m used to seeing you in men’s clothes. I didn’t realize you had anything so … feminine.”
“Is that the gas talking, or are you just weary enough to start blathering on uncontrollably again? Because I don’t think my weaker constitution can stand another evening of intimate confessions.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“So I don’t look like a pretty woman?”
“I … well … I didn’t mean …”
Lelanea let out a soft laugh. “It’s all right, Dodger. You’re under the influence of some pretty strong chemicals. And despite your stronger constitution, you should be very tired very soon.”
“You sound awful sure of that.”
“I am, because you were right about the soup. It was more remedy than repast.”
Dodger blinked again, his eyes drooping with sleep. “You drugged the soup?”
She nodded. “‘Fraid so.”
“Why?”
“Because you need the rest, Dodger. And I knew you wouldn’t get it any other way.”
Sleep overcame him with heavy hands, pressing against his waking consciousness like a man trying to drown a fish. Or was that the other way around? He couldn’t remember. He had never been so tired in his whole life. “I can’ proteck ya eff I’m druggededed …” His voice slurred into a murmur that not even he could understand.
“Ched and I can watch the camp. You can sleep.”
“Yes’m,” was all Dodger could manage.
And for the second night in a row, he collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Dreamless, that was, if you didn’t count the busty brunette or the pink frilly gown. But Dodger reckoned it was okay not to count the gown.
His dream gal didn’t keep it on for very long anyway.
****
back to toc
****
Chapter Five
On the Prowl
In which Dodger worries about unwanted company
Dodger woke with a start. He sat up in the cot and glanced nervously about. His foggy mind searched through half-formed memories, leaving him unsure as to who or where he was. Outdoors. Campfire. Tents. Good heavens. Was he back on the front?
“Hello?” he asked of anyone who would listen.
A growling rose in the darkness. Steady and rhythmic. No, not growling. Someone snoring. A soft sound rose to his left: the whisking of movement through tall grass. Something big. Something coming his way.
“Dodger?” a woman whispered.
“Lelanea?” he called in return. The reaction was automatic, as if the very name had been etched into his soul.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
Thank God she was real. Let the rest of his world be a lie as long as she was real.
A soft hand touched his. He drew it to him and clutched it for dear life.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I …” Don’t know where I am, he almost said. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. Let me have a look at you.”
The hand released his, leaving him alone once more. There came a grinding noise over the snoring in the darkness, followed by a sudden bright light. Dodger winced and covered his face.
“Sorry,” she said. The light faded to a soft glow. “Is that better?”
“Yes,” he said. And it was better too. The bright light cleared the fog, exposing his memories, which came flooding back in a torrent of good deeds, bad deeds and dreadful deeds. The gas. The camp. The doc snoring. It all came back. “Much better. I was confused when I first awoke, but it’s passing.”
“It’s probably the gas mixed with the sleep aid. Let me see your eyes.”
Dodger held still while Lelanea checked his pupils.
“Even and reactive,” she announced. “Are you sure you’re well?”
“Yes,” Dodger said. “I’m sorry to have worried you.”
“I wasn’t worried. I was just … you startled me. That’s all.”
“Then I’m sorry to have startled you.” Dodger stretched full length along the cot. “In fact, I’m feeling a whole lot better. That rest was just the thing I needed.”
“I told you so.”
He pushed his sheet aside and sat up, propping himself on the edge of the cot. The night was clear, with the stars shining down in bright twinkles of jeweled wonder. “It’s a beautiful night.”
“Yes. It is.” Lelanea looked to the sky with a sigh. “You missed the moon. She was gorgeous.”
“Full, was she?”
“No. She’s in her waning phase. Won’t be full again for a few more weeks. Still, she was beautiful nonetheless.”
“She always is.” Dodger stared up at Lelanea, admiring her curvy silhouette in the thin moonlight. “If you hadn’t drugged me, I would’ve loved to have watched her rise with you.”
She looked back down to him and gave a tight smile. “If I hadn’t drugged you, you wouldn’t have gotten any rest. Speaking of which, lie back down. Sunrise won’t be for another hour or more. You have loads of time to get more rest.”
“Actually, I think I might need to walk around a bit. If you don’t mind.”
Lelanea tried to press him back onto the cot. “I certainly do mind. You’re still my patient, young man.”
Young man? Dodger almost laughed at her tone. He was well into his late thirties, and she was what … twentyish? “As much as I appreciate your care, young lady, I really do need to go for a walk.” Dodger got to his unstea
dy feet. He wavered a moment, but soon got the familiarity of his weight under him.
“Get back in the bed.”
“Nope. Gonna move about a bit.”
With a huff, Lelanea crossed her arms. “I want you in the bed.”
“And one day, you may just have me in the bed. But for now, I’m going to find a place to relieve my bladder. Is that good for you? Or do you want to help me with that too?”
Lelanea turned a shade of red not unlike that of her fancy undies. Was the blushing the result of Dodger’s saucy reply—what a rascal he was around her!—or was it just from the knowledge that he needed to relieve himself?
“Oh,” she said. “Well then. Why didn’t you just say so?” She pushed the Sunbox into his hands. “Fine. Wander off and do what you must. But if you aren’t back in five minutes, I’ll come after you.”
Dodger found his tongue at the mercy of his teeth once again to keep from adding a rather raunchy retort. Holding the Sunbox before him, he shuffled a few yards away from the campsite until he found an appropriate spot: a bare patch just soft enough to soak it all up, and just far enough away for inquisitive young ladies to remain in the dark. To the distant rise and fall of the doc’s gentle snore, Dodger clutched the handle of the Sunbox in his teeth and set about doing what came naturally at times like this.
As he stood there, attending to his body’s needs, he glanced down at an odd sight on the ground beside him. A foot or so to the right of his steady stream of glorious relief, Dodger thought he caught an impression in the dirt. An impression he would rather not have seen, but that ,once seen, he found needed further seeing to. Dodger finished his business, buttoned up and wiped his hands across the knees of his britches as he lowered to a squat above the soft earth. Sure enough, there in the dirt was just what he thought he’d seen.
A paw print. And a good-sized one at that.
Dodger held a palm over the print. Whatever it was, its paws were almost as large as his spread hand. He lifted the Sunbox and followed a line of the prints into the grass. From what he could see, the prints doubled, then tripled. More of the things? No. The same paws, over and over, as whatever made them circled the tents a few times, until at last they turned toward the campsite.
Toward Lelanea.
