The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  “Make a hole! This is city business, anyone that doesn’t step aside is going to be spitting teeth! Now get the fuck back!” the Black Jacket sergeant shouted.

  Behind Jasper, the work crews pushed ahead as their Black Jacket escorts shoved, punched and kicked anyone that didn’t move fast enough. Juan watched as one of the guards shoved a woman aside and when the man next to her tried to shove him back, he got a nightstick across the face for his trouble. The wounded man fell back into the crowd clutching his broken face as the woman screamed for help. Others in the crowd began to shout and push the guards back and soon all of the guards were swinging their clubs seemingly at anyone in reach. The situation would have gotten even worse if the water tower’s own contingent of Black Jackets hadn’t arrived just then, pushing the people back and allowing Jasper and the work crew to break free of the mob.

  Juan stared in disbelief as Jasper walked up still wiping the blood from his nightstick and grinning, “That should keep them in line, now they know we mean fucking business,” he said.

  The work crews quickly moved the heavy containers into position and immediately began filling them. Juan shook his head and quickly began to write in his notebook.

  What are you doing here? We filled the container for the distribution centers earlier, what happened to that water?

  Jasper glanced at the note and chuckled, “Relax kid, the centers got their water, and they’re handing it out same as always. Now we’re taking a load or two down to the clubhouse. You know, like the councilwoman said, for just in case.”

  The mute boy began fiercely scribbling again. But that’s not right, some of these people have been here for hours! And I don’t know how much longer the pump is going to hold out!

  Jasper shook his head, “Kid, the truth is I don’t give a shit about these people. Most of them this town would be better off without anyways. The council tells me that today I’m supposed to get as much water stashed away as I can, so that’s what I’m going to do. That means as long as that thing is still pumping me and my boys are going to be hauling water back and forth. So, you better get used to the idea, because I’m not going to let no uppity townies or no deaf and dumb kid get in my way.”

  Juan’s jaw clenched tight, and the note in his hand crumpled in his closed fist. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to hit the Black Jacket Sergeant, but he held back. The man was more than a foot taller than Juan, he was still gripping his bloody baton and Juan knew the man wasn’t afraid to use it. The Black Jacket turned to look directly at the boy as if reading his mind.

  “Careful Juan, I think maybe you’ve grown a little too big for your britches. The truth is that after that pump goes tits up. You and that old man become about as useless as……uuuhhhhh!”

  Allen hit the man at a dead run smashing his shoulder deep into Jasper’s stomach. The Black Jacket was caught completely off guard, and though he still outweighed the orphan boy, Allen’s sheer momentum lifted him off of his feet and planted his squarely on his back. Rolling in the dirt Jasper gasped for breath, but the boy wasn’t done. Straddling the man Allen began to punch Jasper in the face, swinging wildly with both hands and landing blow after blow. The Black Jacket was stunned taking five or six good hits before he even managed to get a hand up to protect himself. Then as if realizing for the first time that he still held his nightstick Jasper made a wild swing for Allen’s ribs. The blow connected and Allen made a low throaty growl that made him sound more like an animal than a man.

  Juan saw it then, the look on Allen’s face suddenly changed, and the mute boy knew something terrible was about to happen. Allen punched the man in the face two more times before Jasper took another swing with his baton, which was exactly what Allen was waiting for. The boy raised his left arm accepting the blow to his ribs with a grunt and then dropping his arm back down and pinning the nightstick to his side. Then Juan watched in horror as Allen’s other hand reached for his waist and came back up with his belt knife in hand. Quick as a snake the boy slashed a deep line across Jasper’s inner forearm, the man screamed as his tendons were severed and the club fell from his useless fingers. Allen pulled the blade back, reversing his grip with the flick of his wrist. Juan saw it all then, the look in Allen’s eyes, the knife in his hand and in that moment, for some reason the boy reminded him of Coal. Juan wouldn't stand by and watch any longer he dove forward, tackling Allen before he could land the killing blow.

  The two boys went spinning across the ground tumbling over one another each trying to wrestle the other into submission. But the contest was over before it began, the only advantage Juan had was surprise and once that was spent Allen quickly rolled him over, pinned him down and put the knife to Juan’s throat. For a moment Juan thought he was about to die. Time seemed to stop as Allen just stared down at him. The orphan boy’s face was a mix of anger, confusion, and regret. Juan realized it must be the same look he wore on his own face. The sound of shouting and the stomp of running boots suddenly grew louder, and a second later Allen was up and running. Juan sucked in a sharp breath, realizing for the first time that he hadn’t been able to breathe. He sat up just as a Black Jacket arrived and put a meaty hand around the back of his neck.

  “What in the fuck is going on here Juan?” the Black Jacket demanded.

  For a moment Juan tried to find his notepad and realized he must have lost it in the excitement, but in the end, it didn’t matter anyway. A half a dozen Black Jacket’s had run to Jasper’s aid when the man started screaming, and others had chased after Allen. The crowd, already angered and now seeing the guards running, surged ahead pushing aside or over the few Black Jackets that remained. Within moments the work crews that were still filling their massive containers were overrun. Men and women alike, scared and angry, pushed them aside helping themselves to whatever water they could scoop out for themselves. Others went straight for the Black Jackets, swinging fists, water buckets and whatever else they could find.

  The Black Jacket holding Juan dropped the boy and turned just in time to hit a man wielding a half a pool cue in the face. “Get the fuck out of here Juan!”

  The boy dropped to the ground as violence erupted all around him. Townspeople fighting each other, Black Jackets fighting townspeople, men, women and even children trying to navigate through it all desperate to find water, it was madness. At some point, one of the work crew’s water containers was overturned sending a wave of dirty water out across the ground, knocking people from their feet and quickly turning the whole area into a sea of mud. Juan just kept his head down and kept crawling, after a few feet he felt a sudden heat and looking up he discovered that he had reached the pump. Kneeling there in the mud in front of the rusty beast a thought struck him. This is why they were all here, maybe I can use it to drive them all away?

  Juan scooped up a length of scrap wood waiting for the furnace and then climbed to his feet. On the side of the old tank was a shiny brass valve. It was a later addition to the pump that Miles had insisted upon in case of emergencies and looking around Juan was certain that this would apply. The boy swung the length of wood around and hit the valve on the first try. Immediately a deafening roar erupted from the valve followed a split second later by a billowing cloud of steam. The valve directed the pressure upward, but even still Juan could feel the heat on his face and quickly staggered backward in retreat. The reaction of the crowd was immediate, people stopped fighting and stealing long enough to turn and look in the direction of the pump and its towering cloud of vapor. The steam quickly cooled in the shadow of the tower and fell back to earth as a light mist.

  If it was the sudden noise of the valve or perhaps the memories of rain that the mist provided Juan couldn’t say. But after all the pressure was vented and the water vapor burned away, the fight seemed to have gone out of the crowd. The people began to disperse and went flooding back into the street in every direction, many of them were bloodied, and few had to be carried, but thankfully it looked as if no one had been killed. Juan
turned to look at the battered group of Black Jackets that remained. Everyone was injured in some way or another, broken noses, black eyes, cuts to the hands and faces, anywhere their jackets didn’t cover. The worst by far was Jasper, he sat on the ground still clutching his wounded arm, which was now wrapped in a blood-soaked shirt. The Black Jacket sergeant looked up at Juan, and his eyes were filled with hate, it was enough to make the boy take a full step backward.

  “Arrest him,” Jasper said. “The charge is instigating a riot, striking an officer, theft of water and whatever else you can think of.”

  “And the other kid?”

  “Attempted murder. Get the word out, I want him brought in, alive or dead, it makes no difference to me.”

  They laid Miles down in a bed in one of Zebadiah’s back rooms. The old man remained silent throughout the walk, and that scared Kyle more than anything. Miles’ eyes remained open, and at times he would look around the room as if he wasn’t sure where he was. The scavenger just finished tucking Mile’s into bed when a woman stepped into the room, Becky presumably. She was in her mid-40s and was tall, with curly red hair tied back and covered. Becky dressed in the same simple dress that Zebadiah’s other wives had, but she carried herself with much more authority. As she approached the bed Kyle recognized the look on her face, it was the look Anna wore when she was working, and Kyle knew enough to stay out of her way.

  Becky went directly to Mile’s side, first looking into his eyes, then checking his pulse. Finally, she pulled up the old man’s stained shirt to look at the bloody bandage around the arrow shaft.

  “Did you do this?” she asked.

  “We did,” Kyle replied.

  “You did, I just pushed the arrow through remember,” Coal added.

  “Well, I’ve seen worse. Though at the moment I can’t seem to remember when.”

  The woman then produced a pair of shears from the pocket of her apron and began cutting away at Mile’s shirt. The old man watched her work with an expression of confusion on his face but otherwise didn’t complain. Claire came through the door a moment later carrying a basket of linens and a few other things.

  “We’ll want fresh bandages,” Becky announced. “Leave the old ones in place, and when we’re ready, we can rock him forward and secure it around his back.”

  For the first time, Becky glanced towards Coal and Kyle, “Your friend is starting to go into shock. Hopefully, it’s just from blood loss. But if he has picked up an infection, well, that could be a very bad sign.”

  “Pardon me for saying so Doc, but ain’t blood loss a bad thing as well?” Coal asked.

  Becky cut away the last of Miles shirt and then raising his right arm began to inspect the side of his ribs. “It is, but maybe we can do something about that, at least temporarily as soon as I can…”

  The woman trailed off as if she was suddenly confused and then walked around the bed she raised Mile’s other arm as if looking for something she expected to find there.

  “Is there a problem Doc?” Kyle asked.

  “It’s just Becky, I’m not a doctor, and I can’t seem to find your friend’s blood type. Isn’t that what all you Protectorate types do, tattoo your blood type on your side?”

  Coal and Kyle shared a quick glance, and then Kyle replied, “Not always.”

  “Well then do either of you happen to know his blood type?”

  Kyle looked at Coal and was about to reply when Miles reached up and put a hand on top of Becky’s. The old man tried to say something to her, but his voice was to faint to understand, so Becky leaned in and asked him to say it again. On the third try, she understood.

  “You’re in luck, Margaret is an A- also. I’ll run and fetch her, she won’t be happy about it, but she is rarely happy about anything these days. Claire, go and see if that water is boiling yet and if it is, start sterilizing the equipment.”

  “Will do…Doctor Becky,” Claire replied with a giggle and ran from the room. Becky followed her a moment later shaking her head.

  Finally, alone Kyle turned to Coal and whispered, “The more I hear about the Protectorate, the more I’m starting to doubt that this was a good idea. I don’t suppose you have any idea what they keep talking about?”

  The bounty-hunter shook his head, “No clue, but whoever or whatever it is has these people scared shitless. Old Zeb had us dead to rights back there stealing his water, he could have blown us away easy. Then suddenly it’s yes sir and no sir. Please sir, have some water and then come back home with me and fuck one of my many wives.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the conversation went.”

  “Really? I was there, and I’m almost positive that’s how it went down,” Coal replied.

  “Damn it Coal focus! These people have already given us water, shelter and now they’re helping Miles. Whatever this Protectorate thing is we need to keep playing along, I don’t want to mess up a good thing if we don’t have to. So just keep it simple, smile and nod and don’t say anything that would make them suspicious.”

  “Relax Tonto, you’re forgetting I’ve had years of practice at being a bad guy. I got this.”

  At that moment Margaret stepped through the doorway and stopped abruptly when she saw the two men standing together and talking quietly. “Keeping secrets is the first steps on the road to hell.”

  “And listening in on a private conversation between members of the Protectorate is a good way to get yourself bitched slapped old woman,” Coal snapped.

  Margaret’s mouth dropped open at the half-breed’s words, her face a mix of surprise and fear. Kyle looked down at the ground shaking his head and giving Coal a sideways glance, “Really?” he asked.

  “What?” Coal replied, “I’m tired of tiptoeing through the tulips with these assholes! We’re the Protectorate god damn it!”

  Drawn by the shouting Zebadiah suddenly appeared in the doorway, the man looked white as a sheet “Margaret!” he shouted. “How dare you insult guests in our home!”

  For the briefest of moments the woman looked as if she was about to object but seeing her usually mild-mannered husband in such a rage was enough to stymie her anger. Instead, she lowered her head and stared pointedly at the floor.

  “For the love of god apologize! Apologize now!” her husband shouted.

  “There’s no need for that Zebadiah,” Kyle cut in. “We came in here unexpected, and you and your family have been nothing but kind and courteous to us. We can understand how stressful our arrival must be on all of you, just like I hope you can understand how concerned we are for our friend’s health,” Kyle said looking between Margaret and then pointedly at Coal. The bounty-hunter gave his friend a little thumbs up in reply.

  The farmer nodded slowly in agreement looking between the two men and then at his wife. “Becky is nearly ready to start your friend’s blood transfusion. In the meantime, we’ve prepared a meal for you. It’s not even midday yet, but with your long night in the storm I figured some food would be welcome.”

  Kyle nodded, “That’s very kind.”

  Coal and Kyle followed Zebadiah from the room passing Becky and Claire along the way. Becky was carrying a series of long tubes all leading back to a central glass container. Anna had used a very similar setup for years to transfuse blood, but this looked different the tubes seemed thicker for some reason, and after a moment Kyle realized it must have been originally intended for use on farm animals.

  “Becky will take good care of your friend,” the farmer promised.

  “I’m sure she will.”

  Returning to the main room, the men found that the thick wooden table was now covered with a red table cloth. Two plates, each with a fork and a knife were laid out side by side.

  “Please, sit gentleman.”

  For a moment Kyle was stunned, it had been so many years since he had even sat down for a meal, sat down at a real table to eat he almost forgot that that was what people had always done. Coal didn’t hesitate, and the bounty-hunter sat down as
if he ate every meal this way. Kyle sat down at the table next to him, and Claire appeared carrying a cast-iron frying pan. She quickly dropped a sizzling cut of meat on to each of their plates, followed by a brown object roughly the size and shape of a clenched fist. Kyle stared at it for a moment before he actually recognized the baked potato. Claire returned a moment later placing a bowl of freshly churned butter between them, a smaller bowl of salt and then proceeded to pour each of them a glass of milk.

  Zebadiah stood beside the table watching them intently, “I apologize,” he said. “We only have simple fair out here, just what we can provide for ourselves.”

  Kyle looked up at the man for a moment as if confused. This was easily the best meal he had seen in years. The scavenger was so surprised that he nearly said as much, but it was Coal that saved him. “This is all goat? The steaks, the butter, the milk?” he asked.

  The farmer nodded, “Yes, we keep about two dozen of the animals in a little box canyon nearby. There isn’t much soil around here, just sand and rock. But we manage to grow a few potato plants and some herbs in some planting boxes. I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re used to eating much better.”

  “No, no this, this fine,” Kyle replied. Next, to him, Coal was already slathering a potato with butter while chewing on a bite of steak.

  “Gentleman, if you’ll allow me I would like to say a prayer.”

  Kyle froze, leaving the first cut of meat hanging inches in front of his mouth and after a moment he just nodded in reply. Next to him, Coal had the decency to stop shoveling food into his face and just chew what he already had in his mouth while giving the farmer a suspicious look.

  “Okay,” Kyle replied.

  “Dear heavenly father, I ask that you bless this food that we are about to consume. I ask that it strengthens our hearts and our minds as well as our bodies. I would also ask that you look over our new friends that are here with us today. That you heal and soothe their wounded friend and look after him both body and soul. I ask oh heavenly father that you guide these men safely upon their journey and of course that you continue to bless and maintain the Protectorate. I ask this in the name of your son Jesus Christ, Amen.”