Besides causing a whole lot of noise, Nick’s shots also filled the narrow space between the buildings with gritty black smoke. A lot more of it rolled straight back into the faces of the two men still standing at the front of the opening.
Nick’s eyes narrowed reflexively as the burned powder drifted into his face. Since he couldn’t see much more than a bit of movement within the alley, he knew that Kinman must have been similarly impaired.
“Dammit,” Nick snarled as the echoes of his gunshots died away. “I’ll crawl in there after them.”
Kinman clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder and pulled him back a bit. “Don’t bother,” he said. “These Chinese are like rats. They got hidey-holes all over the goddamn place. Going after them now is just asking to walk into a shotgun blast or some other ambush.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. There’s plenty more where they came from. You want in on that railroad job?” Kinman asked.
“Sure. I could use the money.”
“Let’s do some more hunting and then we can go back to Hale’s place for dynamite. Where you headed from here, Nicolai?”
“Up into the Dakotas.”
Kinman smirked and said, “What a coincidence. So am I.”
THIRTEEN
Kinman was right. There were plenty more Chinese to be found inside of Rock Springs. As he and Nick made their way up and down the streets, it got harder and harder for Nick to pretend that he didn’t see someone hiding in a doorway or rushing into a building. More than once, Nick thought he would be called out on his attempts to draw Kinman’s attention away from those desperate faces.
Fortunately for those frightened souls, Kinman seemed more intent on talking up Hale’s plan to blow up the railroad tracks. As he spelled out the plan to Nick, he acted as if he was sharing the details of a surprise birthday party. Nick listened, nodded and kept looking for another way to keep from having to put another local in harm’s way.
“I need a drink,” Nick said as they walked down another street.
Kinman shook his head and replied, “You’re out of luck there. The saloons are closed.”
“What? Why would they be closed?”
“The barkeeps are trying to keep from adding fuel to the fire by getting these arsonists liquored up. Don’t try talking your way in either, because I gave it my best shot. Some of these saloon owners say they’re trying to settle things down, but my guess is that most of them just don’t want to be blamed for making things worse.”
Nick nodded and looked at the darkened windows of the nearest saloon with newfound respect. “They may be onto something,” he said.
“They’re just covering their asses.” Kinman grunted. “I’m inclined to toss a brick through one of these goddamn windows just so I can get my hands on a bottle. In fact…”
Recognizing the glint in the man’s eye from all the other times he’d been around dangerous men with too much time on their hands, Nick reached into his inner jacket pocket and took out a dented flask. “Here,” he said, handing the flask to Kinman. “Maybe this’ll help.”
Kinman looked at the flask and then back up at Nick. “I thought you wanted to head into a saloon to get a drink.”
“I just didn’t want to take a dent out of my personal supply.”
Kinman seemed more than a little skeptical. But once he screwed open the flask and sniffed the contents, he grinned and nodded. “Ah. Now I see. This ain’t your typical gutter-brewed whiskey.”
“I can’t even find it in most saloons,” Nick said. “Sometimes, there ain’t anyone in town who’s ever heard of vodka.”
Kinman tipped the flask back just enough for a healthy taste of the clear liquor. His eyes closed as the liquid heat worked its way through him and warmed his stomach. “That’s a hell of a treat,” he said, handing back the flask. “Thanks.”
Nick took a drink as well, savoring the taste and the feel of the liquor the way some folks savor a cigar or a finely cooked meal. When he let out the breath he’d been holding, Nick felt as if he were exhaling steam from the potent liquor burning its path down his throat.
“Seems like the fires are being put out,” Nick said as he put the flask back into his pocket.
Kinman nodded and spared a quick glance toward the section of town that had been ablaze. “Maybe we do got the saloon keepers to thank for that. The men who set them fires only burned down Chinese houses.”
“Houses?” Nick asked. “Not businesses?”
Shaking his head, Kinman replied, “Chinese businesses may have a few white investors. Chinese laundries may have some white folks’ clothes hanging in the back. Nope, they just stuck to the houses because that’s where they could burn down the most Chinese with the least bit of fuss.”
Nick felt his stomach shift within him in a way that had nothing to do with the vodka. He was taken slightly aback when he found the same disgusted look upon Kinman’s face. “Why would you take money from someone like Hale?” Nick asked.
“Why wouldn’t I? You think someone else wouldn’t just step up and do what I done? It’s easy work and it was gettin’ done with or without me. Sheriff Young’s got his hands full with the fires and the assholes setting them for now, but he’ll crack down on Hale so hard that prick won’t know what hit him.”
“What about the Federals?” Nick asked.
Kinman looked over at him. “Those Federals will roll into town sooner or later,” he said. “All we need to do is make it later rather than sooner and we can ride outta here as rich men.”
“It could be messy if any Federals get hurt.”
“Not if nobody knows who did the hurtin’.” As Kinman broke into laughter, he slapped Nick on the back and added, “We’ll just skin that rabbit when we get to it, as my grandpappy used to say. Speakin’ of rabbits, it looks like the Chinese rabbits are all back in their holes. Let’s get to work on our other business.”
The town had fallen into an eerie sort of calm. More folks were poking their heads out of their doorways and walking the streets, and there were more lawmen making their rounds. Nick figured that many of the men wearing badges were newly deputized or even part of a posse meant to regain order. The look in their eyes said they were both anxious to use their guns and afraid at the same time.
Kinman must have picked up on the same thing, because he became more and more silent as the folks around him got the courage to walk outside again. Even though the night air was filled with more cautious voices and less with gunfire, Kinman glanced around as if he was suspicious of every face he saw.
“Don’t let these folks get too good a look at you,” he said. “Once the law gets here, they’ll be apt to tell them about every stranger they’ve seen.”
“They’ve got to know about Hale,” Nick said. “A man like that surely hasn’t been silent while this mess was brewing.”
“Oh sure. And I’m positive none of these folks pointed out a Chinese or two to Hale out of spite. I’m also sure none of these folks happen to be miners as well and are looking to get anyone but Hale into trouble for this bloodbath.”
Nick nodded and choked down his disgust for his fellow man. “Point taken. Where are we headed?”
“There’s a hardware store just up the street. Hale said he’d meet us there with the supplies we need.”
True to his word, the hardware store was up the street and marked by a single lantern glowing in the window. As he approached the store, Nick felt like he’d been swept up by a passing twister and tossed a hundred feet into the air. Where he’d been before didn’t matter, and he was too busy to think about where he was headed. Looking back on it, Nick might have thought a week or two had passed since he’d been sitting on that train aching for a way to get off of it. Now that the twister had come, all he could do was try to position himself for the best landing he could manage.
As he followed Kinman around to the back of the store, Nick was reminded of something Barrett had once told him. His friend’
s words drifted through his head like a phantom breeze, bringing a hint of a smile to his face.
“A man don’t get rich without taking a wrong turn now and then,” Barrett had said during one of the many wrong turns their old gang had taken. “He’s gotta follow his nose no matter where it leads.”
“Most folks know better than to live life like that,” Nick had said at the time.
Barrett had looked at him and nodded. “That’s why most folks are dirt poor, breaking their backs and cursing every minute they got to spend on this earth without the sand to do a damn thing about it.”
At the time, Nick had liked the sound of that.
Now, it struck him as true but not quite as amusing.
He knew there was something important brewing in Rock Springs the moment he’d spotted the flames. Getting off the train was a bonus, but Nick had to admit he would have preferred to be one of the other folks that Barrett had talked about. At least that way he would still be on his way to Cheyenne with only a few loud children and smelly old men to gripe about instead of carrying an armful of guns and a crate loaded with dynamite.
Those things were handed over by a trio of men with faces that were so dirty, they might never have been clean. Those stern faces were unwilling to meet Nick or Kinman’s eyes as they followed through on Hale’s commands. Hale, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier.
“These are the only weapons we could get on such short notice,” Hale said. “But that shouldn’t be a concern to…men like yourselves.”
“Yeah.” Kinman grunted as he selected one of the shotguns from the pile and hefted it over his shoulder. “We got plenty of guns already. You need help with that crate?”
Nick got his fingers under the crate and lifted it. Since the crate was less than half the size of one of the coffins he’d built over the years, he managed to get the crate up onto his shoulder without much trouble.
“I got it,” Nick said.
Hale nodded enthusiastically and pulled a watch from his pocket. “Good, good. You’d better get moving, then.”
“Aren’t you coming along with us?” Nick asked.
Suddenly, Hale didn’t feel like smiling. “Why would I do that? You know what you need to do. Just do it. If I was going to do the job, I wouldn’t need to pay you men.”
“The locals are starting to walk about,” Nick said. “The fires are being put out and the law’s even coming around.”
When he saw Hale look in his direction, Kinman nodded. “He’s right. It’s not like we can walk down the street with a load like this and not expect to be noticed.”
“Jesus Christ,” Hale grumbled. “I might as well—”
“Might as well what?” Nick snapped. “Kill these folks your own self instead of piling up their bodies? Plant this dynamite yourself instead of sitting back and watching the explosions? Or maybe take some of the blame yourself rather than paying us to take it for you. Yeah. Maybe you should do it yourself.”
Hale obviously wasn’t pleased to hear what Nick had to say, but some of the indignant fire had left his eyes. In fact, Hale seemed to become downright uncomfortable the longer he stood there in front of the two men. Finally, he said, “I see what you mean. Fine, then. Let me get my wagon and I can take you to the tracks. I might even know a spot where you can take your time in planting that dynamite without being spotted.”
“See now?” Kinman said triumphantly. “Seems like ol’ Nick might know what he’s talking about after all.”
Hale ran across the street to a small lot where a few horses and wagons were kept. After getting a single horse tied to a small cart, Hale motioned for the others to meet him down the street. As soon as he drew to a stop in front of the Central Mining Office, Hale’s men loaded the wagon and Kinman climbed onto the seat beside him.
“Actually, I could just tell you where to go…” Hale started to say. Once he got a look at the glare Nick was shooting at him, he added, “You’re right. It would be quicker if I just took you there myself.”
“Bring the payment,” Nick said.
Hale froze with his mouth hanging open. After clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure in front of the rest of his men, he asked, “Why?”
“Because I don’t intend on staying here,” Nick replied. “You may fancy shitting on your own doorstep, but I’m moving on as soon as this job is over.”
“I need to bring you back to town anyway, so why don’t you just—”
“You don’t need to bring me anywhere.” Nick cut in. “I’m going to get my horse and then we’ll move along. I left him in a stable not far from here.”
Hale opened and closed his mouth a few times and even got out a few sputtering breaths without managing to form any words. Finally, he looked over at Kinman and said, “You vouched for this man?”
“Actually,” Kinman said, “I think he’s making a good point. If the Federals are on their way, they could arrive at any moment.”
“They won’t be here for a while yet!”
“Can you guarantee that?”
Kinman’s question hung in the air like the acrid smoke drifting in from Chinatown. Hale looked around at the few other men taking orders from him, but none of them had anything to offer.
Looking back at Nick, Hale had a coldness in his eyes. It wasn’t cold enough to make Nick turn away.
“Get the money, Cy,” Hale said. As one of his men ran off to follow through on the command, Hale said, “Get your horse, Nicolai.”
Nick straightened a bit and cocked his head to one side. The look he gave Hale was the same one he’d given countless other times in his youth. So far, no man had lived to see that look more than once.
“If you don’t mind,” Hale said to make quick amends. Although he tried to keep the same serious look in his eyes, he was unable to maintain the edge in his tone. “Since I’ll be carrying this much cash on me, I’d appreciate it if we stayed together until the job is done.”
Taking his sweet time before nodding slightly, Nick turned and walked to the stable where Kazys was waiting.
FOURTEEN
Nick and Kinman rode their own horses while Hale and two of his men rode in the small wagon. With the fires being put out slowly but surely, the night was reclaiming Rock Springs with its thick blanket of darkness. Even so, the smell of burnt gunpowder and spilled blood still hung heavily in the air.
Hale snapped his reins and got the wagon rolling ahead of Nick and Kinman. Just when he was about to mention how empty the streets were, he spotted someone standing at a window and tipped his hat to them. He kept quiet for the rest of the ride.
When Hale steered off the road and toward a cluster of trees, Nick thought the man’s hands had slipped from the reins. But rather than roll straight into the greenery, the horse nosed aside some branches to reveal a narrow trail that looked only slightly wider than a footpath. Nick made certain both the wagon and Kinman were ahead of him before he ventured into those trees.
The trail was mercifully short. Every step of the way, Nick got swatted in the face by low-hanging branches. Wooden barbs clawed at his arms and snagged at his sleeves when he tried to brush them out of the way. When he managed to wipe the dust and pollen from his eyes, Nick was looking at a wide stretch of land with a set of railroad tracks running straight down the middle of it. Hale was practically standing on top of the wagon as he snapped the reins to drive it to a spot beside the tracks. As soon as his brake was set, he jumped down from his seat.
“All right,” Hale said. “This is the spot. I don’t think anyone got a look at what was in that wagon, and they sure didn’t get much of a look at you two, so I’ll be on my way.”
“What’s the hurry?” Nick asked.
Hale started to reach for his horse to unhitch it. “I’m paying you men to do this job and that’s what you’ll do. If I wanted to do it myself, I could have saved the money.” He stared at Nick and Kinman. “What are you men waiting for? Get to work!”
“I think th
e plans are about to change,” Kinman said.
The fear had already taken hold of Hale’s features as he started backing toward his men, who were beside the wagon. Hale bumped against Cy, who was the closer of the two. “You two stand to make some easy money,” he said. “Don’t ruin it by doing something stupid.”
Kinman chuckled and said, “Stupid, huh? By stupid, do you mean being the ones to set this dynamite so your men here can witness it? Or do you mean stupid as in being the ones hunted by the army for killing its soldiers while you do whatever the hell you want right here?”
Watching the two men talk, Nick learned plenty from their faces. He learned even more from the faces of the men Hale had brought along with him. Although Hale looked more scared than anything else, Cy and the other gunman wore the expressions of men getting ready to make a move.
“Or maybe you just got a guilty conscience,” Kinman added. “Perhaps you’re just the sort of fellow who don’t like getting his hands dirty. You could be the sort who just likes to plan the deeds and reap the benefits afterward.”
“You’re the one who killed those Chinamen,” Hale said defiantly.
“That’s right. And they barely put up a fight. You could have done it your own self if you weren’t sitting in your office while your own town was on fire. Tell me something, Hale. Did you have enough sand to start even one of them fires or did you just watch from behind a window somewhere with the rest of the women?”
Hale’s face twitched and the muscles in his jaw tensed. After a few stuttering hisses, he managed to part his lips enough to speak to the men who’d ridden alongside him. “Blow this asshole’s head off.”
Kinman smirked and brought up his pistol in a quick, fluid motion. He took aim and prepared to fire with plenty of time to spare, but didn’t manage to get his shot off before his pistol was knocked off target. When he turned toward the man who’d swatted his hand to one side, there was an angry fire raging in his eyes.
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