by Beth Lewis
I turned away then heard a mighty growl behind me. Wolf weren’t playing games. Soon as I turned back he started dashing about again.
“Where you want me to go, huh?” I said to him.
I folded my arms and shook my head at him.
He growled again, fiercer.
“Where you been?” I said, fiercer too. “You just up and leave me then come back like nothin’ happened, tellin’ me to leave my cushy setup? What you thinkin’, Wolf?”
I knew he didn’t know my words, I weren’t touched in the head like that. I figured he might get my meaning though, wolves ain’t stupid, they’re meant to be part of a pack and all packs got their issues.
Wolf yapped and run quicker into the forest and back. His eyes was full of something close to worry. Maybe he’d seen something while I was away, some kind a’ danger that was headed this way. Maybe he’d seen the demon and knew I was in trouble. Something was wrong in that lake. Something in the deep, dark part that put this whole area into a fog a’ forget. The North weren’t no more’n a compass point to me no more.
Maybe whatever bomb was in that lake was leeching out something nasty. Maybe it was drinking that water, eating meat what lapped it, bathing in it, letting it in my blood. No wonder them rabbits and squirrels were so easy to catch, they were all drunk and stupid.
Wolf was right. Time to go.
“Should call you Wise Wolf from now on,” I said, and nodded firm to him. I quick gathered up my stuff, still had a can or two left from the reverend, and figured filling up my flask from that water was a fool’s idea of a good time.
He didn’t growl at me. I suppose he knew us humans weren’t well equipped for outdoors in just our skins. Once my pack was strapped to my back, I followed Wolf away from the lake. Maybe he had some kind of plan told to him by the wolf god; maybe he just wanted a change of scene or to punish me for not giving him better cuts of rabbit, but damn that beast, he took me straight to Lyon’s front door.
There weren’t no snow.
Least, not big drifts of it I expected from a winter in these parts. There were a few branches still laden with white but that was old fall. It hadn’t snowed in days. Ground was wet and muddy with melt and my heart dropped right out my stomach. It was spring. I’d been by that lake near half a year.
That first night away from the water I wished I was dead. Had shakes and shivers and they weren’t from the cold. I screamed at high heaven to strike me down and I must a’ told all them hungry woken-up bears just where to find me. Wolf stayed close, kept me warm with his fur, kept me still with his weight. Woke up the next morning breathing him in, my face right up in his neck.
Took me two days away from that poison lake, but I soon started to feel more like old Elka. I was a bit slower, bit quieter, but I felt my wits coming back. Felt my tongue sharpening up. Felt all them things I forgot coming back to me. Tell my little girl, I love you. Them words hit me first and hardest. I was getting closer to my momma and daddy. I was looking forward ’stead a’ looking back. I didn’t want no life with Trapper no more. Trapper weren’t really Trapper after all. But my parents, they was real and they was waiting in the Far North.
Their words came back to me but so did pictures a’ Matthews’s basement. Them legs I saw walking ’round, they came clearer in my head, saw stitching and red stains. Seen the stranger’s hand on the table next to my head. Scar on it. More a’ them words spoke in my head, like they was struggling through a snowdrift. Ain’t no sport in killin’ something caught in someone else’s snare. There was more. More words what was still buried, more smells and sights what my brain couldn’t pull out. Could a’ just been some crazy-ass bastard what hated the reverend. Could a’ been Kreagar. But shit, Lyon must a’ caught him by now. All that ice and bluster in her, all that law she got on her side.
When I saw a town from the top of a rise, I dropped flat onto my stomach and cursed the wolf. I weren’t in no mood for humans. He lay flat beside me and didn’t say a word. Felt like he was rolling his eyes at me like my nana did when I said something stupid. But when I thought about it more, I said all right then, Wolf.
I needed to know where I was and how far it was to Halveston. Trapper told me stories of fools rushing up there hundred years afore the Damn Stupid and they all went through Dawson City. Dawson weren’t there no more. It got hit nasty in the Second Conflict when them over the ocean tried their luck few years after the Damn Stupid but from a different direction, down ’stead a’ up. Shit, them Ruski folks Trapper spat about, they tried it every which way, but the Mussa Valley men cut ’em off at the knees, so says the old’uns in Ridgeway anyways. They said with an actor running our show and a woman in charge ’cross the ocean, it weren’t no surprise that them Ruskis got as far as they did. It was the Mussa men what single-handed won the Second Conflict if you believe the talk. Hard to put too much stock in what them sodden men say. Damn Stupid and Second Conflict, hell, they was what they was and they both done and dead now, ain’t no sense in dwelling.
Dawson was gone but I figured another town must a’ sprung up in its place, figured that might be Halveston. Just like the reverend said, the North is big and I admit I didn’t know what road was leading me where.
This town was built up at a crossroads. One road ran east-west, the other north-south, and the north-south was wider and more traveled. Wooden arches over each road marked the boundaries. Even saw a few folks heading north, dragging sleds and bulky packs. This was one a’ them “gateway” towns. It was maybe twice the size of Dalston and mostly acted as a trading post for them passing through.
“You go in that town,” I said to the wolf, “and they’re going to string you up and skin you.”
Wolf huffed and crawled forward.
I put my hand firm on the back of his neck and said, “They’d kill you soon as look at you. Stay here.”
I think he got my meaning ’cause when I stood up, he didn’t. Looked right forlorn he did, gave me a few yaps, few little howls, but it was for the best. He knew it same as me.
I turned up my collar as I went ’neath the town’s south arch. Few folks milled about, old-timers sat outside stores and chewed on ’bacco, a rifle resting on their bony knees. Nobody paid me much attention. Streets were quieter than I expected and the buildings, all wood boards, were bigger’n they looked from the rise. Never been in a town this big and it sent prickles running up my neck. Kept my knife close to hand. Kept my wits. Get in, get out, and get back to Wolf.
I came to a general store. Usually them shopkeepers are gossips a’ the worst kind. They know everything and everyone what has passed through their town and if anyone was going to point me in the right direction, it’d be them.
Stuck up in the window was one a’ them charcoal posters a’ Kreagar. Strange seeing his face after so long away from him. Made me miss him, but that passed quick like gas. Couldn’t tell if the poster was an old’un and he was caught already or if he was still running. I sure as shit weren’t ’bout to ask no questions to find out.
A tin bell tinkled when I pushed open the door. Two freestanding shelves stood taller’n me, running down the center of the shop. Walls was covered in goods and produce and on the far side, a thickset woman sat behind a counter, scraping at her nails with a file.
“Morning, love,” she said as I got to the counter, “help you?”
“Wonderin’ if you can tell me what this town calls itself?” I said.
Woman put the file down and looked at me, caterpillar eyebrows meeting in the middle of her head. “Can’t read the name on the arches?”
Shook my head.
“This here is Genesis and this is Maud’s General Store. I’m titular Maud.” She chuckled though I didn’t get the joke. My eyes went to her chest and she sure was titular, didn’t do much to hide it neither.
“Where are you headed?” she said.
Weren’t no point in lying. Don’t get no fruit out a’ good folks when all you feed them is lies. I could tell by this
woman’s voice she was a good’un. Had kindness deep in her though I wouldn’t want to push it too far.
“Halveston. Heard about a yellow metal makin’ men rich. Figured I’d get mine.”
Maud smiled, showed off teeth black from ’bacco.
“Ha!” she laughed like a donkey braying. “You and the rest of the world, darlin’.”
I turned my face meek, like her words had hurt my delicate feelings.
“Aw, hell, child, I didn’t mean nothing by it,” she said, and put a meaty hand over mine. With her other she took a map out the rack and spread it ’cross the counter. Was ’bout the same as Matthews’s map.
“All those guys who are looking for the gold and stones got to pass through Halveston, so be mindful. You take the road north through the mountain pass, cross the lake, careful though, only a handful of towns from here to there. Just follow the trail of fools.” She winked at me and I felt a mite of discomfort at how familiar she was.
Found the lake, skinny and long, and north of that by a fair way, ’neath her finger, was Halveston. Felt good to have firm points what meant I didn’t have to go on that road. Mountain pass. Long, narrow lake. Long as I kept that road close, I weren’t getting lost.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, and went to leave.
“Hold up,” Maud shouted, didn’t stand up, didn’t think she could easy lift all that bulk. “Hope you’re going to stick around town; we got a hanging today, whole town will be in the square for the celebration.”
“Who you hangin’?”
“A woman who kept quiet about her kid shooting up a store.”
Big cold rock sat in my throat. “They hang people for that?”
“Hang them for less than that around here.”
“Is that right?” I said, and I tried my damnedest to keep the tremble out my voice.
Maud nodded. “The kid turned the gun on himself when the law caught up. He got his, now the one who helped him hide is going to get hers.”
“Damn awful,” I said, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel like it was right. Sounded like the momma didn’t do nothing bad. Sure not bad enough to be hanged for it.
“You ain’t wrong,” she said. “Magistrate Lyon arrested her herself and brought her here for justice. After all, we’ve got the best hanging tree north of Couver City.” She laughed and all her flesh bubbled like a stewpot on coals.
That rock in my throat dropped hard into my gut. Lyon. Here. Right now. She knew my face and I didn’t much want a second meeting with her. But hell, something in me, some dark part, wanted to see her again, like I had an urging in me to face down a bear. I wanted to see if she could find me, if she still remembered my face after a winter a’ darkness. There was something about Lyon that scared me right to the core but damn it all, she made me curious. She made me wonder how anyone could get that cold.
“You all right, darlin’?” Maud asked.
I’d been standing still for too long.
“Never seen a hangin’ before,” I said. “Think I’ll stick around a bit longer.”
“She’s swinging at sunset,” she said, and I thanked her and left the store.
Sunset was near and I followed the crowd to the town square. A big oak grew in the middle and they’d slung a rope over the fattest limb and tied it off to a pair of horses ready to run. Rest of the tree had been lopped off. No leaves, no other branches. They’d turned the king of the wood into a death bringer. Like they’d taken a great proud grizzly, shaved off all his fur, and made him dance. Made me sick to see it. Didn’t care much for the woman going to die, but that poor oak didn’t deserve to be the gallows.
Spotted Lyon right away. She stood by the tree, all in black, her lieutenants either side, and a gleaming six-shooter on her belt for all to see. She was all ice. Wouldn’t surprise me if you cut her open you’d find glaciers ’stead of blood and icicles ’stead a’ bones.
Crowd started cheering and I soon saw why. Pair of deputies brought out the devoted mother. Skinny woman, looked like she’d had a hard winter. She’d tried to do right by her son and I found it hard to see the bad in that. Hell, maybe she didn’t even know what he done.
Saw her eyes, that woman, and they didn’t have no fear in them. Then I saw Lyon’s and they may as well a’ been black holes for all the feelings they gave away.
I bet my blade that Lyon had gone ’round questioning folk ’bout her, same as she did ’bout me. Wanted in connection with murder. Connection’s all it takes in this godforsaken country. You stand in the same room as someone what done bad and Lyon’ll string you up. Weren’t all that much hope for me, living so long with Kreagar.
Saw myself in that woman, defiant to her fate. She done right by her kid, best she could, and no one, not even Lyon, could take that away.
One a’ the lieutenants looped the rope ’round the woman’s neck. The horses stamped and blew. They were ready. The crowd was baying. Weren’t no stopping this train now.
I closed my eyes when the whip crack set the horses to bolt. Cheer of the crowd silenced the snapping neck. I’d never seen no one hang afore, and a loving mother weren’t going to be my first.
I opened my eyes when I heard the body hit the ground. Lyon hadn’t moved. Didn’t seem affected none by a woman dying beside her.
A kid brushed past me and I felt tiny fingers in my pocket. Thieving beast. I snatched the arm and pulled the kid ’round to face me. Mask of mud and grime but it was a boy no more’n ten.
“Let me go,” he wailed, but the crowd drowned him out.
I dropped to my knees and came nose to nose with him.
“Give it back,” I said, and my eyes told him not to play games.
He opened up his hand, and one a’ my old snares fell into the mud. Must a’ kept it in my pocket and forgot ’bout it. I didn’t have no coin to steal anyways.
“You tryin’ to steal with all these lawmen around?” I said.
Kid didn’t say nothing.
“Do somethin’ for me and I’ll give you silver worth a hundred a’ them snares.”
His baby eyes lit up at that and he nodded.
I whispered my instructions in his ear.
“You understand?”
“Yes ma’am, I do,” he said, and tried to pull his arm free, but I held on.
“You cross me,” I said, and slid my knife out its sheath, “and I’ll slit you neck to navel, get it?”
His body tensed and he nodded again, proper this time, none of that frantic kidlike excitement no more. There was fear in them eyes and fear, when used right, is better’n all the coin in the world.
I let him go and he run off in the crowd. I stood up and watched him push through and walk right up to Lyon. She knelt down to greet him, muddied up her black pants and didn’t seem to think nothing of it. The boy passed on my message and I held my breath waiting for her reaction.
Lyon’s head snapped ’round to her lieutenants and she said something I couldn’t hear. Then she smiled at the kid, gave him a coin, and sent him away. She quick stood up, said something to her stocky lieutenant, and strode off, both men right behind her.
The kid arrived back to me a few seconds later.
“I told her what you said.”
“You sure? Tell me exactly what words,” I said.
Boy took a deep breath and said, “ ‘My cousin saw a man with tattoos all over his face down in Martinsville not two days ago; he was saying the law burnt down his house.’ I told her that the man was hollerin’ about how he was going to kill all the lawmen he sees. I said I thought you should know, Miss Lyon.”
“Good,” I said, and felt a swelling a’ pride at my plan. It weren’t a total lie, after all, Kreagar could a’ been near Martinsville and the reverend, but that would a’ been six months ago ’stead a’ two days. I wanted to know for damn sure he weren’t in one a’ Lyon’s cells or hung already from that poor oak.
“What she do?” I said.
“Do I get my silver now?” he said, holding
out his hand, skinny eyebrows crossed up like I’d swindled him already.
I growled like Wolf and said, “What did she do?”
He huffed and finally said, “She asked if there was a girl with him.”
Lump grew hard in my throat. “What you say?”
“I said I don’t know nothing about a girl.”
A flutter of relief went through my chest but did nothing to break up the lump.
“Then what?” I asked.
“She shouted at them men to saddle the horses. She said, ‘I’ll watch that bastard swing for what he did to my boy,’ then she run off.”
Shivers went all through me.
I gave the kid one a’ them spoons and sent him on his way. My head was dazing worse than it was by the lake. Kreagar weren’t caught yet and Lyon’s boy had been one of his kills. No wonder she was so fierce about him. She’d ride clean across the country to find Kreagar, that was clear as day, and I bet whoever stood in her way would get a bullet and all. I felt cold. I had stood in her way, and now I was in her sights. I hadn’t told her the truth in Dalston and I felt sick for it, knowing what Kreagar’d taken from her. Maybe she figured me and him was in it together. Maybe she thought I’d known all about his wolf hunts. Maybe she was right. There was so much I didn’t remember from my life with that man. But the longer I was away from him, the more and quicker it was returning to me.
I don’t much like roads. Roads is some other man’s path that people follow no question. All my life I lived by rules of the forest and rules of myself. One a’ them rules is don’t go trusting another man’s path. No matter if that’s a real one trodden into dirt or all them twists and turns his life has taken. People do it, they do what their mommies and daddies did, they make them same mistakes, they have them same joys and hurts, they just repeating. Trees don’t grow exactly where their momma is; ain’t no room, ain’t enough light and water so they end up wilting and dying off. It’s the same with us humans, though you wouldn’t know it to look at them most a’ the time. Ranches and stores are passed father to son, momma to girl, but there ain’t no room for it. Son tries to run things like he wants, father ain’t having none of it, they start feuding and soon that family ain’t no more.
