“But they couldn’t buy any beef. You see, the only reason Sal can get beef is because his brother is a big rancher in Smyer, out west of town. The other guys couldn’t get any beef because they didn’t have the connections he’s got. But dead bodies were plentiful.
“Rumors were that they killed their victims and then sliced ‘em up into steaks and sold the steaks to folks passing through. But I don’t think the killing part is true.
“My guess is they just followed the gunshots at night and collected the bodies that way.”
“The gunshots?”
“Yeah. Listen for them tonight. Odds are you’ll hear at least one, sometimes three or four. It’s the sound of people giving up. And ending it all. For some reason it almost always happens at night. Right around sundown. I guess that’s the time for giving up.”
Come to think about it, Red had heard gunshots every evening since she’d been in town.
“I just assumed it was people shooting game. Rabbits and squirrels.”
“Ain’t no game left in the city limits. Hell, even the cats and dogs are gone. I saw a dog a few months ago, but he was wasted away and getting ready to drop. Looked like he had worms. I guess those worms saved him from getting eaten.”
“So that really is why he puts the cow head on display out front? So people will know they’re eating real beef?”
“Yep. That’s why he lets them go in the kitchen too, so they can see Charlie slice their steak.”
“Why does he go through all this trouble? I mean, if he has a brother who’s a rancher, why don’t he just go live with his brother and have all the steak he wants?”
“Oh, his own brother despises him. They have this mutual understanding. Kind of an unwritten agreement. His brother sends out two ranch hands with a horse drawn wagon every third day. On the back are two freshly slaughtered and cured sides of beef. He sells them to Sal at slightly below market price, plus slaughter and delivery charges. But he doesn’t do it to be nice. He does it so old Sal doesn’t go out to the ranch and start mooching off of him.
“Old Sal, he’s a fairly good businessman. He hires people to go near and far around town and spread the word that he’s got real steak and potatoes for sale. And that he only takes gold and silver. He’s got people coming from all over town, even from out of town, with their granny’s silverware set or silver or gold bullion, old jewelry and collector coins they steal from abandoned houses, wherever they can get the stuff.
“He told me once that at the prices he charges he clears about half a pound of gold and a pound of silver a week. That’s a damn good trade, if you ask me. I asked him the same question you just did. Why did he go through all the trouble?
“He said the world won’t be like this forever. That someday they’ll figure out how to get everything working again.
“He said when that happens most people will be dirt poor from selling all their valuables to survive. But that there would be a few smart guys out there who found a way to use the blackout to their advantage.
“And he said he plans to be one of those smart guys. He hates his brother so much, you see, that he’s determined to be so rich that his brother comes to him to mooch. Instead of the other way around.”
“Greed and hatred are two of the most powerful motivators there are.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s a fact.”
As she was preparing to leave the restaurant Jeff reappeared from the kitchen.
“Here, I’ve got something for you.”
He handed her a small bundle, weighing about two pounds and wrapped tightly in plastic food wrap.
She looked at him curiously.
“Beef jerky. It’s what I do with the leftover scraps and the pieces nobody wants. In this heat, the meat only lasts about three days. When it gets close to that I go ahead and cook it, then I turn it into jerky for my friends.”
“Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“I guess you didn’t hear that part. I turn it into jerky and give it to my friends.”
Red was used to getting unexpected gifts from strange men. All pretty girls do.
But this particular man seemed genuine. Like he was out to get nothing for himself, other than the satisfaction of making a new friend and then helping her out.
It was a refreshing change from what she’d gotten used to.
“Thank you,” she said, before heading on her way.
Chapter 7
When she walked back out of the restaurant and onto Slide Road it was dusk. The sky had started to darken a bit. Her belly was full and she was starting to get sleepy.
She wondered what she should do with Luna. Surely he was awake by now. Should she deal with him tonight, or let him stew until morning?
She supposed she’d see whether he was in a talking mood. If he wasn’t she’d tighten the ropes holding his hands and ankles and let him suffer through a long night of misery. Perhaps that would loosen his tongue.
First, though, she had a couple of stops to make.
Jacob, the boy who was watching Luna’s horses, had appeared to her to be skin and bones. He’d looked as though he hadn’t had a good meal in months.
She’d thought about inviting him over for a steak dinner, but had worried someone would steal the horses in his absence.
So she did the next best thing.
While she was eating her steak, she’d asked Jeff to scrounge around in the back of the kitchen to see if he could find an old carryout container.
He happily complied because, well, Red was a very pretty girl. And that’s what guys do when a pretty girl asks for something.
Red saved roughly half of the steak and half of the baked potato and placed them in the container, along with all the beans.
She didn’t cotton much to pork and beans. Especially canned ones. And although she would eat them in a pinch, this didn’t qualify as a pinch.
Perhaps Jacob would like to have them.
She carried the container to the abandoned building where she’d seen Jacob sitting in a lawn chair babysitting the ponies, and looked around for him. The chair was empty, and the ponies were seemingly unattended.
But then she looked a bit closer. In the darkened doorway she saw the barrel of a rifle, atop a sleeping bag and pointed out toward the street.
There were two lengths of rope which extended out from the doorway, each one tied to the hobbles which held the horses’ front hooves in place. From what little light remained in the western sky she could barely make out the other ends of the ropes, tied securely around a young man’s ankle.
Red smiled.
At least she knew how Jacob guarded the horses while he slept.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that anyone wanting to steal the horses had only to carefully cut the rope, unhobble the horses, and back them away.
Of course, it was tough to do that without making enough noise to wake the young guard. And anyone on the outside couldn’t see in far enough to tell whether the guard was awake or asleep.
Only the foolhardy would take a chance of trying to steal the horses, not knowing whether he was being watched by whoever was at the other end of the rifle.
So perhaps Jacob wasn’t as foolish as he first appeared.
She stood directly in front of the door and called out softly, “Jacob! You awake?”
“Huh? What?”
He scrambled to his feet and to the doorway.
She asked, “How long since your last meal?”
He was still sleepy and confused.
“What? Oh. A few hours, I guess.”
She handed him the Styrofoam container.
“What’s this?”
“My leftover steak. I couldn’t eat it all, and I thought you might like to have it.”
His eyes grew big and his mouth watered.
“Steak as in… steak?”
“Yep. As in steak. There’s a plastic knife and fork inside there, and some steak sauce. I think it tastes just fine without it, though.
Enjoy it.”
She turned to walk away while the boy was still stumbling over his words and looking for the right thing to say.
And trying his best to remember the pretty girl’s name.
“Uh… Debbie…”
She turned and said, “Yes?”
“Uh… thank you. For the steak, I mean. Thank you.”
She smiled. He was most likely one of the few innocents left in Lubbock proper. It was refreshing to meet him.
“Don’t mention it. And by the way, the name is Red. See ya later.”
Chapter 8
There was one more thing Red needed to do before she bedded down for the night.
She had a major soft spot for those who were too old or too infirm to take care of themselves. And the old man who ran the apartment complex-turned-motel had worried her.
Her work here in Lubbock would likely be finished the next day. But she was in no major hurry to get back to Blanco. Not so much that she couldn’t afford to spend an extra day or two in Lubbock.
Her plan was to make a list of the medications the old man should have been taking and wasn’t. To check the abandoned tractor trailers a few miles outside of town which hadn’t been picked through yet.
Surely one of them had a pallet destined for one of the big box store’s pharmacies.
And if it did, there was a fair chance that pallet might contain some of the life-saving drugs the old man needed.
It wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. John Savage and his man Sloan weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And if her gesture of kindness could keep the man alive for a few more years it would be worth the trouble. God knew there weren’t many decent men left in the world. She’d try to help keep this one around a little bit longer.
The door to the office was open and it was dark inside.
She took a kerosene lantern from a nail adjacent to the front door and shook it back and forth. The sloshing sound from within the small tank told her there was fuel inside.
She pulled a Bic lighter from her pocket and lit the lantern.
She’d only let it burn for a couple of minutes. Any light source in the darkness attracted mosquitoes. And while she’d heard that the plague had pretty much run its course, she wasn’t one who liked to take chances.
“Hello,” she called out as she walked through the place. “It’s Red. I was here earlier.”
No answer. No movement. No nothing.
She proceeded further, entering another room. Then she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she noticed a man lying on the floor at her feet.
She went to one knee and felt for the old man’s pulse. She knew as soon as she felt his cold and clammy skin there wouldn’t be one. He’d been dead for hours.
She lifted the lantern from the floor and held it high so she could get a good look at the body.
The man’s eyes were closed, his face reflected pain. There were no bullet or stab wounds that Red could see. His left hand was clenched into a tight fist and held tightly against his chest.
Massive heart attack. He’d gone home to be with his family.
She felt bad for him. His last moments were almost certainly pure agony.
She hoped he didn’t suffer for long.
She looked around for a blanket and found one rolled up beside an old wooden rocking chair.
It was nothing fancy, but would help keep the flies off of him until morning.
Red wasn’t one prone to sobbing, but found herself doing so. It surprised her, for she’d considered herself too hardened after everything she’d gone through in the previous year.
She rolled him onto his back and covered him, head to toe.
Then she leaned back on her heel and said, “Rest peacefully, my friend.”
She was in a foul mood by the time she carried the lantern over to Luna’s room and slipped the key in the lock.
Whatever euphoria she’d gotten from eating the steak dinner and visiting with Jeff was swept away by the sight of the kind old man on that cold hard floor.
She carried the lantern, still burning, with her. She figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. And she hadn’t seen one in Luna’s room before.
As she walked in, she held the light high and in front of her. Luna was wide awake and trying his best to work himself free.
But because the room was pitch black when she opened the door, and the light was so bright, he was momentarily blinded. Because Red held the lantern in front of her face, he couldn’t see who was holding it. She was but a shadow behind the brilliant light.
It wasn’t until she lowered the lantern and said, “Hello, Mr. Luna. I trust you’re comfortable?” that he realized who was holding him captive.
And the anger on his face immediately turned into horror.
With a touch of guilt mixed in.
His efforts to free himself went into high gear. They were a wasted effort, for she’d tied him quite securely. But in his position it was the only option he had.
He fought the bonds so furiously he resembled a fish out of water, flopping around and trying desperately to find the means to survive.
He rolled over so fast he went flying off the side of the bed, landing face first on the floor with a sickening thud.
Red smiled and said, “Ouch. I’ll bet that hurt. You poor thing.”
He winced in pain.
Red stood over him and drew her sidearm.
He looked at her in desperation. It was obvious to her that he’d be begging for his life, were it not for the rolled up dirty sock in his mouth and the duct tape wrapped tightly around his head.
But she didn’t shoot him. She desperately wanted to. But she needed some information from him first.
“You know what, Mr. Luna? I’ve had a very hard day today. I need a good night’s sleep before I have the stomach to deal with your sorry ass.
“And that leaves me with a problem. You see, I won’t be able to sleep a wink with you thrashing about and making all kinds of racket. So that means you’re gonna have to get a good night’s sleep as well.”
With that, he watched in horror as she drove the butt of her pistol hard against the side of his skull.
“Nighty night, you filthy animal.”
Chapter 9
Red placed the lantern on the floor and rolled Luna back onto his stomach. She was careful not to hit him quite so hard this time. She didn’t want to have any trouble bringing him to in the morning.
The side of his head was bleeding, but not profusely. He was in no danger of bleeding to death, but he’d wake up with a powerful headache.
Not that she cared much.
She checked the knots on his wrists and ankles as well as the short rope which connected the two. They were tight. Way too tight for him to work himself free. Even if he awoke before she did, the most damage he could do was wake her up with his squirming and whimpering.
For a moment she stood over him, the lantern still on the floor. She thought how easy it would be to take the cap off the lantern’s fuel tank and to pour some of the kerosene onto the carpet beside Luna’s body. Then to use the flame to light the oil before walking out the door.
The thought troubled her. It played on her conscience. She was almost embarrassed for even thinking it.
But a tiny part of her, the vengeful part, thought it was a good idea. Perhaps a quick way to exact justice. A quick and easy way to avenge her family’s deaths.
And therein lay the rub.
For although she was certain Luna had been involved in the murders, she couldn’t afford to make a mistake. She wasn’t against punishing the man, but she had to be sure beyond a shadow of a doubt. Were she to exact justice with anything short of that, and she was no better than him or Savage.
And they, in her mind, were little more than monsters.
She made her way to the living room couch before turning out the light. And in the few minutes it took her to fall asleep, she entertained herself with her options. If by talking to Luna at len
gth she was able to satisfy herself of his guilt, what her next step would be.
She couldn’t turn him into the authorities. There were no more authorities.
She couldn’t hang him in a public square, like he’d deserve. He might have friends in Lubbock who might try to free him. Then she’d be back where she started, having to track him down again.
She could put a bullet in his head, but that was too easy.
He wouldn’t suffer, as her father had.
She could tie his ankles to a long lead from a fast horse and drag him at a gallop through the streets of Lubbock.
But that was too gruesome for the townsfolk. And they’d been through too much already.
Her preferred method of revenge was still undecided when she drifted off to sleep.
She dreamed of happier times, playing in the front yard of her ranch house with little Rusty. Watching him play in the dirt with his favorite Tonka dump truck. Transporting load after load of dirt across the yard and back again.
Relishing in his filth, as boys of his age tended to do.
Then giggling as his mom picked him up and tickled him, carrying him upstairs for a much-needed date with Mr. Bubble.
She awoke when the first rays of the morning sun shone through the window and onto her face.
Red wasn’t one who remembered her dreams. They generally disappeared into oblivion the moment she opened her eyes.
Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks were pasty from dried tears. She’d been crying in her sleep, but she knew not why.
She sat up, a stab of pain running through her back from the too-soft couch and making her gasp.
Luna was still out like a light.
The night before she was tired and at her worst. If she’d exacted justice then, he’d have been shown no mercy at all. She’d have done her level best to send him straight to hell, and to make each step along the way as painful as possible.
But a full night’s sleep had restored her humanity.
She looked at Luna, on the floor next to the bed, and actually felt sorry for him.
Not a lot. But enough for her to at least try to make him more comfortable.
A Lesson Learned: Red: Book 3 Page 3
