Fragment - Backtrail II

Course, Captain Grant wasn’t scared of no man or mutie. But he says to me once, Tomas, I like the gentle things and I prefer them in their places of order. Mine is a dominion of stillness.


Always made an impression on me, him sayin’ that when he did – right after he shot Black Paul through the eye all them years back.


Tomas, the Captain says to me now. I want you and him – he was thumbin’ at Ruiz at the time – to go to the muties and hire out two of their best trackers. Betray no hint of what happened to the other two or the purpose to which the new ones will be tasked.

Fragment - Backtrail

Me and Dodge was the ones that found Collier by the fence like he was. Could tell from the brokeneck buzzards that Collier tried to stay alive. I don’t know what to make of it – her leavin’ him alive, gut shot like she did.

Dodge was sayin’ he knew Collie from way back. Two of ‘em used to ride with the Captain and the little woman out East in the old cities, keepin’ peace in a couple of black and red carros they got from God-knows-where.

Dodge said him and the woman was close on account of bein’ alike: didn’t wanna talk much, both just lookin’ out West like they missed it.

Maybe she was doin’ him a kindness, given Collie half a chance to make it ‘til we come back. Dodge said more’n likely she knew bein’ gut shot was the worst way to go, and for a big sumbitch like Collie it’d be the longest road.

Captain Grant didn’t have nothin’ to say on this. He didn’t have nothin’ much to say ‘bout any of it when we come up the road to see the farm mostly burned up. He didn’t even pull out his rifle then, likely figurin’ that she’d have been long gone.

I seen a picture of her once and she looked just like the girl. Miranda.

Ruiz found the mutie tied up in the barn, some of her hair burned off, half babblin’ in Spanish makin’ little noises like a dog. Captain Grant didn’t say nothin’ when Ruiz said he was gonna leave the mutie tied up.

Captain Grant didn’t say much of nothin’ for a spell. Just dug the toe of his boot in the ash here and there like he was lookin’ for salvage. Ruiz kept runnin’ his mouth, like he was tryin’ to fill up the silence with somethin’. We all felt before we even saw the Captain break Ruiz’s nose. Like as not because to shut Ruiz up as to just have somethin’ to do with his hands.

Captain led a row of trucks to Jude’s place. Later, I asked Dodge how the Captain would know she’d gone through Jude, but the wiseass sumbitch just said simpatico and left it at that.

Jude was worse off than Collie if that’s possible. He was wearin’ the butcher’s apron he put on when he was sewin’ us up and that’s how we recognized it was him. Otherwise, he ain’t had no head to know him by. That young boy call himself Pierce was the one found the bloody bandages in the back part burned. At this, the Captain got more philosophical, and so his mood got blacker.

We all of us kept quiet when we found the savages Jude and the Captain paid to keep watch on the border. Two savages and only one spear left between ‘em. It could be war with the jefe what hired these boys out to Jude on account of getting’ ‘em back without one of them holy spears. More likely as not, there’d be some real oro changing hands to make this right.

Fragment - El Orfaneo

Miranda grabbed the scissors when Black wasn’t looking and ran as fast as she could. She made it as far as the back fence before she ran out of breath and fell to the ground.

Catching her breath, Miranda placed the scissors in the dirt alongside the length of rope. She hoped she could remember how to tie the knot like Daddy taught her. She planned to catch a rabbit for him before he came back off the road. Black said they lived in the hills and there weren’t no rabbits out here and Miranda asked Black what did she know.

Miranda cut some rope about the length of her arm and started working on a knot. Thin ten-year-old fingers struggled with the twine, making the first knot. The sun was still high in the sky and Daddy didn’t usually come home until the sun was low and the sky had taken on the reds and purples like those in Black’s eyes.

So Miranda was surprised when she heard a horse coming up western path. She squinted because the sun was in her eyes but she knew the rider wasn’t Daddy. At first Miranda thought it was a thin man, maybe one who wore their hair long like Daddy’s friend Jude. The rider even wore a coat like Jude’s but it was different because the front looked like it had been dipped in maroon.

Black called from the main house.

‘Randa! Where you run off to with my scissors?

Miranda kept silent and worked on her knots, paying no mind to the rider. Her Daddy had riders come through all the time with bundles and bags and sometimes gifts for her. She thought about the coppery, hot smell they brought with them off the road. Most of them had scarred hands or were missing fingers. Miranda imagined sometimes that it was some kind of secret thing of going west – you had to come back with bags of secret things and gifts and more often than not, scars.

Her Daddy never came back hurt as far as she could see.

She was thinking about this and her knot when Black snuck up on Miranda and clouted her on the ear.

What you do that for?

You know what for! I’ma –

Black looked out at the rider.

Black wasn’t black like her name. Her skin was a deep dark grey. When Black looked at the rider though, she would swear up and down that dark grey went to pale.

Git in the house.

Miranda thought that maybe it was one of what Daddy called enforcemen coming up the way. Daddy would always promise to sic them on Miranda when she was being bad. But Daddy always talked of them coming in dozens and hundreds.

This was just one and he was riding funny.

And he was a she.

Git in the house, I said! Collie! Collllleeeeeee!

Miranda let Black drag her back to the main house. It was the only building on the property that had electricity yet and it was where Miranda and her Daddy slept. Black used to sleep in Miranda’s room but last year Daddy made her start sleeping round in the smaller house.

Big old Collie slept where he slept – in the sand for all Miranda knew. When Daddy went on the road, he left Collie there. Miranda was supposed to listen to Collie first, then Black, but Collie didn’t ever say anything. The stooped old man was still big, still needing to crouch when he walked through the door like he did now. With his one good eye he looked in on Miranda and Black. Satisfied they were okay he walked to the back path.

Miranda tried to twist free and follow Collie but Black was strong. Daddy said muties was always strong and Miranda had taken enough spankings to believe him. Miranda reckoned she’d have to watch through the window.

Collie reached the fence and for the first time Miranda thought about how old Collie must be. Miranda was sure he was the oldest person she’d ever seen and he looked so naked out there without his rifle.

The rider had a rifle out. He kept it across the horse’s back, cradling the stock in his arm.

She.

For the first time, Miranda noticed that the rider’s face wasn’t as hard as those she normally saw. It wasn’t doughy like Black’s but it wasn’t the face of a man.

Miranda recognized the nose and chin and the too-red hair. From when she looked in the mirror.

For some years Miranda thought that her Momma was dead, but here she was, pointing a rifle at Collie.

Fragment - Across the Wasteland

Fragment – The Savage

Because the Savage had the sun at his back and because of the steady loss of blood from Abby’s ear used to be and out of her chest it was hard to aim. She had no time to bandage her wound while keeping her rifle on the Savage – there was just no way.

She shifted her weight in the dirt, aiming up at the ridge. She was prepared to roll if he threw another spear, but didn’t know what fuck all good it would do. The Deacon once told her that muties could pass one of their bone-tipped spears right through a body at 1000 yards. Abby didn’t know anything about that, but she knew this one threw faster than she could draw on him.

That was something new.

So was this: she’d never heard of anyone being able to pay one of the grey-green skinned savages to do anything. Abby promised to revisit the question of how Jude got this one to come after her.

A high keening noise to her right, and Abby rolled to the left avoiding another of the Savage’s spears. It buried its six foot shaft in the sand beside two feet to her right. It was reassuring to think that maybe he was having trouble seeing her from up on that ridge.

Still, him and the compadre she shot didn’t have all bad luck: Abby spat out a wad of blood onto a patch of yellow sand. The spear that lanced her lung had gone straight through, which, all things considered was a plus. But on the way in and out it’d broken at least a rib. Worse still, breathing was a bastard.

But Abby noted that this wasn’t how she planned on dying. She’d make Jude patch her up after he answered her questions and before she shot him between the eyes.

For the second time today she lost sight of the Savage. This caused Abby to run through what could be approximated as fear for her. She scanned the ridge over the gunsight: nothing moved, not even the wind. Deacon would have said even nature conspired to bring Abby to the end of her path.

Of course, for what man, woman, child, or mutie was this ever not the case?

She sniffed the wind. What came back to her: the smell of her last spent round… her own blood and sweat… the recently-cured leathers of the dead Savage lying face down100 feet away. She thought about putting another round into the body, this line of thinking towards getting the Savage’s blood up. Abby rejected that line of thinking: she’d need the bullets if and when she caught sight of the Savage again.

She knew from the westward movement of the light that she’d been pinned here for five hours or more. She’d been skewered for half that, at least. An hour more and Abby wouldn’t have the strength to hold the rifle up.

Was he just waiting on her to die? Savages not being know for their patience, Abby didn’t count on it. Still, there was some inscrutable strategy at play, and Abby was having trouble sussing it out. Abby thought she’d been told that Savages would pound the earth with their palms to attract members of their tribe.

She pressed her ear to the ground, hoping to hear the tell-tale beating… getting nothing more than the pulsing of her own heart.

Abby lay like this for a while – enough for the sun to travel further west and long enough to allow the Savage to get within five paces of her. From the surprise in his gross black eye, he obviously thought she was dead when he came upon her. Her being dead didn’t preclude him from keeping a spear poised to strike.

It was only his startlement that allowed Abby to pull the trigger those four times before he could throw. Abby lost track of how much longer she stayed there – was it even the same day? She knew the Savage’s blood was cold and sticky on her cheek. But it hadn’t been long enough for carrion birds to decide that the two of them were fair game.

She propped herself up using the rifle, but used the mutie’s spear as a walking stick. Jude’s shack was near enough. She thought maybe he should do his doctoring before telling her what she needed to know. Thinking of how she’d probably have to ask her questions, Abby thought it best to let Jude keep his hands intact for the time being.