Red was strong for a girl of her size. It had come from a lifetime of insisting she could do things on her own. That she didn’t need a man to do for her what she could do for herself.
She’d been hoisting saddles on horses since she was an adolescent. Stacking bales of hay since she was a teenager. Toting fifty pound sacks of seed, feed and fertilizer since she was a young adult.
She could certainly get Luna back onto the bed.
She didn’t do it for him, though.
She did it for herself. For by displaying a bit of humanity it made it much easier for her to convince herself she was a good and decent person.
Regardless of whatever happened in the coming hours.
Once Luna was centered in the bed, Red looked through his saddlebags, stacked haphazardly in the corner of the room. She sound a small leather pouch full of gold and silver coins.
She wondered which ones John Savage had paid him for the murders of her father, husband and son.
And which ones he’d outright stolen from her friend Crazy Eddie.
It was blood money. She hated to even touch it.
But perhaps some of it could at least be put to good use.
She looked at Luna one last time and walked out the door.
Chapter 10
“Hey, Jacob. How are you doing this morning?”
“Oh, hi. Thank you so much for the steak I had last night. It was the best steak I’ve had since the lights went out.”
Red felt a tinge of sympathy for him. His words sounded… rehearsed. Like he’d practiced half the night exactly what he was going to say to her, in an attempt to avoid being tongue-tied.
Jacob, where’s your family?
“My what?”
“Your family. Your mom? Dad? Sisters and brothers?”
He looked down, and she suddenly knew the answer even before he said it.
“They’re all dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I’m… I’m pretty much over it now.”
He obviously wasn’t, and she felt bad for bringing it up.
He looked at her. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you seem lonely to me. I wanted to find out if there was someone you could spend time with, other than these horses.”
“No, not really. I mean, I’ve got a couple of friends I see sometimes, but they live kinda far away. And we’re not real close.”
“You seem like a good man. You haven’t made friends with any of the people around here?”
“Not really. The people around here, they mostly just make fun of me. They say I’m slow. Sometimes they call me names, like retard or stupid. They laugh at me when I walk by.”
“How old are you, Jacob?”
“I’m seventeen. I think. My birthday is the ninth, but I’ve lost track of the days. I don’t know if the ninth has passed by yet or not. If it hasn’t I’m still sixteen.”
She laughed easily.
“Well, I’m definitely the wrong person to ask. I don’t know if it’s the ninth or the twenty ninth, or even what month it is anymore.”
He smiled, and she thought it might be a good time to change the subject.
“Hey, what kind of a business arrangement do you have with Jesse Luna?”
“Who’s Jesse Luna?”
“He’s the man who’s paying you to watch these horses.”
“Oh. He’s paying me a silver quarter a day. Two up front and the rest when he leaves town. I have to watch them and water them, and twice a day I have to walk them over to the park and let them graze for a couple of hours.”
“And you haven’t had anybody try to steal them from you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m a pretty good shot, and they’d better not dare.”
She looked at him hard. She could see a fragile boy who was trying his level best to prove himself a man. She felt a need to wrap her arms about him, to protect him.
“Look, Jacob, I have a job for you to do. It won’t be pleasant. But I’ll pay you two silver quarters to do it.”
His face brightened.
“Two quarters? Seriously? What do I have to do?”
“Do you know the old man who runs the motel behind us?”
“Sure. Walt. He comes over to talk to me sometimes. Or to bring me a bottle of water.”
“I was hoping he wasn’t someone you knew. I found him last night on the floor of his office. He’s dead.”
“Oh, no. Who killed him?”
“I don’t think anybody did. I think he died of natural causes. Of old age.”
She thought it sad that he immediately associated a man’s death with murder. It was an indication of the sorry state the world had become.
“He was a very nice man.”
“Yes. I only talked to him once. But he struck me that way too.”
He opened his mouth again, then paused, as though trying to say something else. But he gave up and said no more.
Several seconds of silence went by before he found his words again.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to bury him. Do you think you can bring yourself to do that?”
“I guess so. I buried my dad after he caught the plague. Then my brother and my sister.”
Red caught her breath and paused for a moment before going on.
“Is there a place close by to bury him?”
“Sure. The park two blocks south and one block west. It’s got a playa lake, and lots of people are buried down there. My family isn’t, but a lot of others are. Folks wanted them to be close to the water, I guess. That’s where I take the horses to graze twice a day.”
“Do you know if there are any shovels over there, by the graves?”
“Oh, yeah. Several.”
“Okay. Here’s what I want to do. I want to take both horses over to the motel office. I’ll help you get his body onto one of their backs. You can take the horses to the park and let them graze while you dig a grave and bury him. I’ll be along in a couple of hours and we’ll say a prayer over him together. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Let’s go get him.”
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first body Red had handled since the blackout brought the world to its knees. At least this one hadn’t had a chance to rot yet. Rigor mortis had set in during the night and Walt’s body was stiff as a board. They could wait for it to relax, but that would take another two days and it would start to decompose. Red didn’t want to wait that long.
She wanted to get this man buried and help him to preserve a semblance of dignity, rather than lie on the floor for two more days.
She noticed that Jacob zoned out while they were loading him onto the back of the Morgan. And she wondered if this was bringing back memories of the day he buried his family members.
Once he was ready to go she asked, “Will two hours be enough?”
“Yes. Plenty.”
“Okay. See you then.”
Chapter 11
Red noticed that Jacob had gone eerily quiet, and hoped that burying the old man wasn’t more than his fragile psyche could handle. She placed a hand on his shoulder before she walked away.
It was a simple gesture, really. Meant to convey to him that there was at least one other person in the whole rotten world who understood and shared some of his pain.
He turned and looked at her. There was something other than sadness in his eyes. Something akin to defeat.
“Don’t give up,” she said. “Even in the ugliest of times, you’re still breathing and walking around. That can’t be said of most of the others. You owe it to your family and friends to get through the bad days and carry on. For their sake, if not for your own.
He very briefly reached up and placed his hand on her own. Then it seemed to occur to him that she was right. He was strong. He’d survived when most others hadn’t.
“You’re right about that,” he told her. “The world has become a very shitty place. But I
owe it to my mom and dad to carry on their family name if I can.”
He wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Instead he mounted up and led the pack horse behind him.
Red watched as he disappeared around the corner of the building, then turned and headed toward Luna’s room.
Halfway there she encountered an old man in a rocking chair outside one of the other rooms.
“Hello there, ma’am. Can I ask who was on the back of the horse that just rode out of here?”
“You mean the one sitting in the saddle or the one laying across it?”
“The one who was lucky enough to get out of this hellhole.”
“Walt. The man who ran this place.”
He didn’t seem surprised.
“Pity. He was a good man. Did somebody kill him?”
“I don’t think so. I think he died of a heart attack. Did you know him?”
“Not well. I try not to get to know anybody well anymore. Every time I get close to somebody they go and die on me. Where’s the boy taking him?”
“To the lake. He’s gonna bury him there.”
“I’ll make a point to say a prayer over him next time I go for water.”
“Good day to you, sir.”
“And to you, ma’am.”
Chapter 12
Luna woke up stripped down to his underwear and unable to move, but he couldn’t figure out why. His head was a fog even before Red knocked him cold, because of the six shots of whisky he’d had at the bar down the street.
And he couldn’t remember the second time she’d hit him at all.
Now it was very much worse, for in addition to his stupor he had a pounding headache. The back of his scalp screamed in pain. And it felt sticky for some reason. The side of his head was swollen and ached as well. At least it seemed dry.
He was much too out of it to figure out what was going on. And he couldn’t ask the shadowy figure, standing in the darkness of the corner of the room watching him. The three layers of duct tape wrapped completely around his head and over his mouth made sure of that.
He whimpered and squirmed a little bit, but was unable to do any more than that.
Red walked nonchalantly over to the center of the room, to a small table on which an unlit oil lamp was sitting. She picked up a box of wooden kitchen matches from the table next to it and lit the lantern.
Several things happened almost simultaneously.
The room was instantly bathed in a soft yellow glow.
The glazed look in Luna’s eyes was replaced by one of terror, when he recognized the shadowy figure as Red.
And Red smiled.
She thought the look of terror suited him well.
Luna looked to his right, and then his left. Red had found enough rope to cut into two twelve foot pieces. She ran both of them beneath the mattress on the bed, one at the head and the other at the foot. Protruding from the right side of the mattress were two sections of rope, each about three feet long. The left side had two similar ropes.
They were perfect for tying him down at the wrists and feet.
Through the foggy and confused state his mind was in he realized he was totally at Red’s mercy.
And she didn’t look very sociable.
“Hello, Mr. Luna.”
His eyes grew and he struggled to get loose.
Red watched him, slightly amused.
She reached into her back pocket and took out a Waverly folding knife, with a polished oak handle and a six inch blade.
Luna’s eyes widened even more.
She opened the knife, and a bead of sweat suddenly appeared on the man’s forehead.
He furiously shook his head back and forth, silently pleading for his life.
Red placed the blade against the side of his neck, and pressed it hard against his jugular vein.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t even twitch. I keep this thing as sharp as a razor blade, and it would be very unfortunate if we were to have a little accident.”
He started to sweat profusely, but grew still.
She moved the blade to the side of his face and used it to slice through the duct tape.
“Now then, Mr. Luna. What happens next is totally up to you. If you yell for help or scream like a little girl, I will cut your throat from ear to ear and watch as you bleed out onto this flea-infested bed of yours. Or you can keep your cool and we can have a nice little discussion. Your choice. Makes no difference to me at all.”
Then she lifted the cut end of the duct tape and ripped it over his face, taking a good part of his mustache with it and causing him to shriek in pain.
But to his credit, he didn’t call for help.
“Now then, Mr. Luna. I’ve gone through a lot of trouble finding you, and I’m in absolutely no mood to play games. Do you understand?”
He very vigorously nodded his head yes. Several times.
“Good. Now then. I’m going to ask you a series of questions. I don’t want any hesitation, and won’t tolerate any bullshit from you. Do you understand?”
He managed a weak, “Yes.”
“Did John Savage have anything at all to do with the deaths of my husband and son?”
Luna said nothing. He was afraid to.
Red jabbed the end of the blade a full two inches into Luna’s upper thigh, causing him to wince and make a face so contorted and ugly it was almost comical.
But not to him.
“Yes. Yes he did. He paid… somebody to blow up the house with dynamite.”
They both knew why he blamed the deed on a mysterious “somebody.” But he didn’t know that Red knew who that somebody was. She didn’t call him on it. Not just yet.
“Was I supposed to die too?”
The pain in his thigh, the knife still embedded in it, caused him even more pain than the wound on the back of his head.
But he still didn’t want to tell her any more. So like an idiot, he hesitated again.
Red twisted the knife a full ninety degrees.
And he decided he couldn’t talk fast enough.
“Yes. Yes. You were supposed to die too, but you walked outside just before the blast went off.”
“And my father. Was Savage responsible for his death too?”
“Yes! Savage paid the same killer to give your father something to induce a heart attack.”
“And this killer. The one Savage paid. Who was he, exactly?”
“His name is Sloan. Ed Sloan. He’s still in Blanco, waiting for orders from Savage to kill some more.”
Red knew he was lying. She knew it was he and not Sloan who murdered everyone she loved. She could see it in his eyes.
And he, looking in her eyes, realized for the first time that she knew.
“What are you going to do to me?”
She removed the knife from his leg, wiped both sides of the blade against the bed sheet, and refolded it.
“I’m afraid I’ve already done it, Mr. Luna. I know you can’t see it, but your leg is bleeding profusely all over the bed. I’m afraid I accidentally nicked your femoral artery. I’m sorry.”
Now she was lying as well. Something in her voice told Luna she definitely wasn’t sorry. Not at all.
He raised his head and looked down. He felt faint when he saw bright red blood gushing from the inside of his thigh and pooling between his legs.
“You crazy bitch. I’m going to bleed to death!”
Red remained calm and stood up, returning the folded knife to her back pocket.
“No you won’t, Mr. Luna. I’ll go get a doctor, and he can patch you up. Wouldn’t want you to miss your trial for murder, now would you?”
“Please hurry. I don’t want to die.”
“No, I suppose you don’t. My family didn’t want to die either, by the way.”
Red took her time walking toward the door. In a sadistic way, she enjoyed the look of panic on Luna’s face.
She stepped out into the afternoon sun and closed the door behind
her.
Then she walked over to the office, to find the same old man sitting on a lawn chair just outside the office door.
“How come you’re sitting out here, sir?”
“Cooler out here. Hot as hell in there. The one thing I miss more than anything is air conditioning.”
“Yes, sir. I miss it too. Hey, where is the nearest doctor?”
The old codger laughed.
“Hell, we ain’t got no doctors left, as far as I know. The last of ‘em treated the plague patients, then caught the plague themselves. Ain’t no doctor, or nurse either, for at least five miles in any direction.”
Red smiled.
“Pity,” she said, and walked off toward the boy and the horses.
Chapter 13
Red walked to the park with the playa lake, following the directions Jacob had given her.
From a distance she could see the boy, knee deep in the shallow grave, tossing shovel after shovel of rich earth into a pile.
He used his shirt sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow, then shoved the shovel into the soft mound of loose dirt and sat down beneath an oak tree to take a rest.
The two ponies grazed nearby, their leads tied together to discourage either from wandering off.
Without a word, Red pulled the shovel from the dirt mound and hopped into the half-finished grave.
Jacob started to object. Started to get up. Started to take the shovel back. But Red waved him off. She could see he was exhausted, and probably dehydrated as well.
And he seemed to be something else too. Distracted might be the right word. He seemed barely cognizant of Red’s presence. Had, in fact, let her get right up on him before he even acknowledged she was there.
Perhaps Red was tainted by the cold and harsh place the world had become. Perhaps she was getting good at watching her own back. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help thinking how vulnerable the boy had made himself. If Red had been a bad man intent on attacking the boy and taking the horses, she wouldn’t have had any trouble getting the drop on him.
She hoped he didn’t make a habit of being so careless.
She finished the grave. It was just deeper than her waist when she deemed it good enough. About three feet or so.
A Lesson Learned: Red: Book 3 Page 4
