The Devilstone Registry: Among the Fragments (5/10ish)
Prologue:
"Mornin', Sherriff"
Michael woke with a start, yelping as the chair he was sleeping on tipped backwards and crashed to the floor. It wasn't morning. It was the middle of the night. From underneath his desk he could see a single pair of boots, spurs glimmering in the moonlight. Michael hurried to right himself and put his hat back on.
"Folks call me Mac." Michael said, holding out his hand. "How can I be of service?"
The man chuckled, a low threatening sound that made the hairs on the back of Mac's neck stick up like heckles.
"I got something' of yorn, and I ain't givin’ it back. You folks is gon’ have to come git it." The man's voice was thick, his accent marking him as a Texas man like Mac himself but apparently this man's momma hadn't taught him any manners.
"I see. I don't suppose you are gonna offer any proof. Would hate to send somebody off on a fool's errand." Michael said, fingers itching themselves into fists. If this fella got any more uppity, Michael would show him exactly why he was called Fighin' Mac.
"You close to your townsfolk, Sherriff?"
"I know every man, woman, and child in this community." Mac boasted, feeling more than a little proud. He considered everyone in Westport a member of his family. Granted, some of them could be unruly, and every family has its black sheep and strange uncles, but on the whole most of them were good people.
"Then I suppose you'll recognize this."
The visitor threw a burlap sack down on the desk. It landed lightly. A little nervous, Mac took the bag and peered inside.
"Shit." He cursed, and bit his lip. He hated cursing, even when it was appropriate.
"Yeah, that's right. You've got three days, Sherriff. I reckon you'll need thirty thousand dollars or thirty thousand bullets."
"Thirty thousand?" Mac said, sitting down fast. It was a fortune. He only knew one Westport citizen with that amount of money, but money wasn't the issue. If he paid up the ransom, he had no doubt that more folk would start getting kidnapped. No, a problem like this had to be dealt head on. Mac wouldn't take the coward's route.
"Or you could rustle up your little errand boy-" The man spat chew right onto the floor, ignoring the spittoon in the corner "-Krissy the Kid and we'll have ourselves a grand old time. Your call.
"Where should we ride?"
"There's a small camp south of The Crater."
"The Crater? That's Howler land."
The visitor laughed again.
"We have an ... understanding. I'm sure if you ask nice, they'll let you through. Or you could just ride around. Course you've got nothing but The Fragments to the east, and riding to the West would take you a week." The man smiled a wicked grin, revealing several gold teeth.
"Or I could kill you now." Mac snarled.
"Oh, now that wouldn't be to wise. Unless of course you want your pal Matty to get his old nickname back. Permanently."
"I'll be there." Mac said, gripping the edges of his desk so hard his knuckles shone white in the dim light.
"Bring The Kid. It'll be a grand reunion.
"Reunion?" Asked Mac, but the stranger was already leaving.
"Shit." Mac swore again, and pulled the contents of the bag out onto his desk. It was a little straw fedora, wrapped round with a red ribbon. It belonged unmistakably to Matt Giraud - once called Matty the Mute.
***
The Tale
For the fourth night in a row, Kris lay awake, staring down through the bathroom into the open door to Adam's room. For the fourth night in a row, that room was empty. The man had been working himself to the point of exhaustion every night. Last night Kris had tried to get him to sleep. He had succeeded in getting him to his bedroom, but once there Adam only paced back and forth for the balance of the night. He was in the lab again before the sun rose.
Kris got out of bed and moved to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Though Adam had told him he would be perfectly safe in the lab, Kris still worried. What sort of hired gun slept while his employer worked away? And what sort of...Kris gulped and searched for a proper noun... well whatever he was to Adam, he should be making sure Adam was well-rested.
His eyes fell on the bathing tub and inspiration struck. Kris grinned. Adam wasn't the only genius around here. Now there's an idea, he thought to himself, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest. His smile broadened as that flutter traveled lower. A brilliant idea. He pulled on some clothes and made a few preparations before setting out to the lab.
***
Adam was so focused on the slate he didn't seem to notice Kris enter the small Lab office. Kris walked quietly, not sneaking per se, but not announcing his presence either. He placed his hands on Adam's hips and mumbled
"Just me " when he felt Adam tense beneath his hands. "Don't be scared."
Adam relaxed instantly. "I'm not scared." He turned around to face Kris, and Kris moved closer as Adam's arms fell around his shoulders. "Just exhausted. And frustrated. And I hate mathematics."
"Aw, come on. You're brilliant at figures, just like everything else."
"Just because I'm good at it doesn't mean I like it. This formula has to work. She's...she's getting worse." Adam's face crumbled, looking as if he might cry. He didn't though, and Kris was relieved. He was worried over Adam enough without him crying.
"You need to take care of yourself." Kris asserted. "You stay awake much longer and you're going to make mistakes. Start hallucinating. Then The Snoop will be running stories about Mad Doctor Lambert again and I'll have to find him and teach him the meaning of crazy. You don't want that."
"I guess not. But I'm so close. It's right there, just beyond me. I -
"You need to relax. It'll come to you." Kris's voice was soft and steady, and he almost chuckled when he realized it was the same voice he used on skittish horses. Really, there wasn't too much difference between a prideful colt and the unsteady man in his arms.
"I can't relax. How can I relax when - oh." Adam's protestations fell into a sigh as Kris leaned towards his neck, pressing kisses just under his earlobe.
"Kristopher...my math."
"Shhh." Kris hushed him. "It'll still be there in the morning, but you'll feel good enough to figure it out. Come with me." Kris pulled Adam's chin down and kissed him chastely on the lips, pulling back as soon as Adam started to respond. "Come with me." He repeated, letting his right slide down Adam's side as he reached up for one of Adam's hands with his left.
Adam took one last look at the chalkboard before stepping away from it.
"Fuck." He swore, but there was a smile on his face as he followed Kris out into the muggy August midnight.
***
"What's this?" Adam asked as Kris led him into their shared bathroom. "I thought you were taking me to your bed." Kris handed him a warm mug of brandy, from which Adam sipped.
"Patience is a virtue, Dr. Lambert." Kris teased. "And honestly, you smell like a Hobbler."
"Do not!" Adam protested. Kris just laughed and pulled him into a kiss, his fingers making fast work of Adam's button down shirt. Kris smiled into the kiss as Adam slammed the mug down on the counter. The bathing tub was already full of steaming hot water, and Kris could feel himself starting to sweat. He moved his mouth lower, to Adam's throat, and his hands followed suit, unclipping the suspenders and pushing the waistband of Adam's trousers till they lay in a pool at his feet. Kris stepped back to admire his handiwork while Adam undid the buttons to his linen smalls. The one piece garment soon fell away, and Kris' breath caught in his throat.
Adam cut an intimidating figure with his clothes on, and with them off Kris lost some of the swagger and confidence he had used to lure the doctor away from his work. Adam held out his hand, and Kris took it, allowing himself to be pulled in close again.
"So serious, Kristopher." Adam nipped in his ear. "Were you hoping I'd taken the Change elixir? Forget that those lips you've been lavishing so much attention on lately belong to another man?"
Kris shook his head fast, feeling his stomach drop out. That wasn't it at all. He tipped his head back and looked Adam square in the eyes.
"Not for a moment. Not either of those things. You just stole my words from me, that's all. Next to another sunrise, that's the sight I'll always want to see most."
Adam was still and silent for a moment, and when it breathed at last it was a long, gasping sigh.
"God, Kristopher, that mouth of yours." Adam murmured into his hair, tugging the short strands to bring Kris's mouth closer. They kissed once before Kris pulled away.
"Into the tub with you, Dr. Lambert." Kris said, and began rolling up his sleeves. "Judging by the looks of things I've got a whole lot of work to do."
The hot water felt wonderful on his skin, but not nearly as good as the sensation of watching Adam, head tilted back against the rim of the tub, mouth open in stunned satisfaction, as Kris moved his hand beneath the water. The quiet sound of motion was sweet to his ears, but not nearly as sweet as the sound of Adam's ragged breath falling from him in an ever accelerating rush as Kris chased the tension and weariness from Adam's body the best way he knew how.
***
"Kris! Wake up. Sherriff’s here to see you." The voice on the other side of his door sounded urgent, but Kris couldn't bear the thought of unwinding his limbs from Adam's. They lay in a tangled mess of still-damp sheets, as there hadn't really been time to dry off. Kris smiled at the memory of Adam pulling him into the tub, clothes and all. The memory carried him back to sleep, and he snuggled deeper into the crook of Adam's neck, hips shifting involuntarily as the morning itch rushed through his veins.
"Arkansas. God damn it, I'll come in there."
The sound of his door opening made Kris jump up and pull a sheet over himself to hide his nudity. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes a few times to see Scott standing in the middle of his room, goggles perched on the top of his head.
Adam groaned and tugged the sheet back.
"M' cold Kristopher." He mumbled, still fast asleep.
"Mornin' Kris." Scott said, covering a laugh. Something tells me I'm awfully glad I put my goggles up before coming in here."
"Uh. Ummmmorning." Kris stammered, trying to figure out how to explain Adam's presence in his room. He gave up after a moment, dismissing each excuse as absurd. Scott obviously knew what was going on, and it clearly didn't bother him. "Who did you say was here?"
"Fightin' Mac Sarver. The law. He's in the parlor with Lil fawning all over him. She's already fed him your pancakes since you ... decided to have a little lie in."
"I'll be right there. Just let me get dres- just tell him I'll be right with him."
Kris hustled to slide on his trousers and a clean plaid shirt, not even bothering with smalls. Time for that later. He pulled a comb through his hair and gave himself a once over in the mirror. He smiled at his reflection shyly, seeing Adam's eyelids flutter in the background as he lay sprawled over Kris's bed.
"Be right back." Kris said, leaning over Adam and kissing him softly on the lips. Adam groaned, opening up his mouth. "Lawman's here to see me." Kris said, pulling away.
"Wait..." Adam's eyes went wide, and he hastily tugged Kris back down into another kiss. It was devastatingly deep, all tongue and teeth, and it left Kris aching for breath when Adam finally shoved him back and leapt out of bed.
"I've got it. Kris. I've got it. That has to be it. You, you are a godsend. Why didn't I see it before? Must have gone over that equation a thousand times..."
Kris chuckled to himself as Adam went back to his room, mumbling under his breath. As usual, he had no idea what Adam was talking about, but was relieved that the doctor had evidently found some inspiration by taking his mind off the problem.
***
Fightin' Mac was perched on the settee when Kris entered the Room. Mac rose and offered his hand.
"Pleasure to see you again, Sir."
"Please, call me Kris, Sherriff."
"Call me Mac, Kris." Mac replied with only the ghost of a smirk.
"Southern Boys." Lil said, shaking her head and leaving them to talk business. Kris listened with rising anger as Mac told his story and offered Kris the "proof," Matty's hat. Kris frowned, turning the hat over and over in his hands.
"So I'm guessing you want my help for the rescue." Kris surmised, flipping the hat one more time and handing it back upside down to Mac.
"Hold that thought, Kris. There's something in here." Mac fished into the hat, and sure enough, tucked in the hatband, was a small white photograph. Mac looked at it a few seconds before shaking his head.
"I don't know her. An old sweetheart of Matt's, maybe?" Mac said, handing the photograph to Kris.
The woman's face reached out to him like man holding onto the ledge of a cliff. Though she was clearly older that she had been when last Kris laid eyes on her, she still had the same forlorn expression that she wore as Kris watched her shrinking into the distance on the back of her father's wagon. Katy O'Connell.
The years had not been kind. She was still beautiful, objectively, but what had always drawn Kris to her was the smile always ever present just behind her eyes. That spark was gone from her, and the lines around her eyes belied her 27 years.
"You know her." Mac said, somewhat unnecessarily as Kris had been staring at the picture in stunned silence. "Well maybe that's what the stranger meant about a reunion."
"What?"
"He told me to bring you, that it would be a sweet reunion. I thought he was talkin' about you and Matty, since Matty literally sings your praises every night. Have you heard 'The Kid from Arkansas?' Mouthful of a title. Most just call it "Krissy the Kid" and have done with it. No offense, Arkansas."
Kris shook his head, not paying any attention to Mac. He was still staring at the photograph, feeling like Mac had just sucker punched him in the gullet.
"I'll need to speak to Dr. Lambert. I'm in his employ, and as such my time is not my own. "
"Do what you need to do, but I'm leaving in an hour. It's a long ride through Howler country, and we've only got three days before Matty's swingin' by his newly reconstructed throat from some high oak tree. I'm leavin' with or without you."
"I'll...I'll be there. Wait for me." Kris said, holding out his hand.
"Going somewhere?"
Kris jumped, startled by the appearance of Adam in the parlor entryway.
"Forgive me for interrupting, I'm not accustomed to company." Adam continued, his speech suddenly formal, the way it had been in the Kris's letter.
"Not at all, Doctor." Mac said, rising. "Always a pleasure. Beautiful home you have." He said, eying the brightly colored wallpaper and eccentric art on display. "You've been a busy fella, helpin' those who need it. I admire that. Hope that gal you've got is gettin' better."
"I was just on my way to see her. I think I may have worked out a solution. Well, Kristopher helped. He's quite inventive." Adam said, shooting a sly, appreciative glance towards Kris.
"That so?" Mac said, clearly impressed.
"Shucks, Doc." Kris said, stifling a laugh. "I barely did anything. You did most of the work." It was true. Kris bit his lip in recollection.
"Well, I should let you get ready, Arkansas. And let you get back to your patient, Doctor. That's a very special little lady you've got there."
"Thank you!" Lil called from the kitchen.
"Make that two." Mac said, grinning warmly. "See you soon." He said, donning his cap and striding out the door. Adam smiled and waved as he left before turning to Kris. The happy, friendly veneer had dropped from his face.
Adam and Kris took a moment to stare at each other. Kris knew his face was the picture of guilt, and Adam - Adam just looked worried.
"Leaving so soon, love?" Adam's voice was pitched low, but Kris was relieved when he heard the kitchen door bang shut. Lil had evidently decided to give them some privacy.
"Not for long, if that's alright. Matty's been kidnapped and Sarver asked me to help him."
"I heard. Howler Territory. That's a rough ride, Kristopher. The only guy I know who rode that way came back with half his leg missing and a new-found appetite for raw meat."
"Come on, Adam. I'll be alright. But I gotta do this." Kris sighed and handed Adam the picture.
"Who's this?" Adam asked, unable to keep the panic from his voice. "Your sister?" He added, hopefully.
"That's Katy O'Connell. She's my...she was." Kris stammered uncomfortably. "We were childhood friends. Haven't seen her since I was 15."
"What happened?" Adam asked, studying the picture closely as if hoping to see something of himself in the picture of Kris’s childhood sweetheart.
"She was kidnapped, I guess, on the road from Arkansas to California with her family. They moved away after the war. I tried to find her. Years, I looked. Gave up eventually and drifted ever since."
"Drifted to me." Adam said simply.
"To you." Kris agreed. "Adam, I don't want to drift anymore. But this is something I gotta do. I owe her that. I owe myself that. You wouldn't turn your back on a friend in trouble - why, everything you do you do to help complete strangers. If it were me they had, you'd come for me."
"What if it were me they had?" Adam looked miserable, and for the first time in their acquaintance, he seemed small. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were lowered.
"I'd already be riding. But that won't happen, cause you've got me to keep you safe." Kris put his arms around Adam, feeling the man's stiff posture relax into the embrace. "I've gotta go. Be back soon." He whispered into Adam's ear, placing a kiss on his temple.
"Yeah, alright." Adam didn't sound sure, and the pain in his voice was enough to break Kris's heart.
"Allison needs you now. Come on." He pulled back and grasped Adam by the shoulders. "Believe in me."
"I do." Adam said, and Kris smiled, ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach that Adam wasn’t so sure he’d ever see Kris again.
***
"This is shit" Kris complained as he maneuvered Conway through the endless maze of towering needles of rock, pointing accusingly towards the sky from where the meteor came.
"This is the Fragments, and just the tip of them at that." Sarver corrected. "They were here before the Great Trembling, but not like this. Pressure from below pushed them higher and pieces of the Tower flew over here, I guess, but the Doc could probably tell you more about that than I."
"He isn't a geologist." Kris said sullenly, annoyed with how often Adam came up in conversation and at the fact that it was usually him that did the bringing-up.
"Boy, the way I reckon, there isn't much that man don't know. Those Bluefire Lights, those were a stroke of genius. He was on the team that invented the Trackless, you know."
"No, I didn't." It occurred to Kris he didn't know a lot about Adam's past, other than what was in the letter. Adam didn't know enough about his, either. They'd have to rectify that when Kris made it back.
If Kris made it back. Conway had stopped, ears pricking forward like they always did when they sensed danger. Kris looked up, and realized why she had stopped.
They were at the edge of a crater, miles wide and seemingly just as deep. The meteor lay at the center, a deep cobalt rock that lay along with jagged pieces of the huge white formation that used to be called Devil's Tower. It was desolate, alien in its scope. Kris never felt so far from home looking into that wide bowl.
"Terrifying, innit?" Mac said, riding up next to him. "Even without the Howlers."
"I read about Howler's in the Doctor's book before leaving." Kris had practically memorized the page on them. The Badlands Bestiary had quite a thick "H" section, he had noted. The creatures were apparently the offspring of anyone that had lived too close to the crater when the meteor fell. Whatever chemical change had brought about Devilstone had changed the inhabitants of the western Black Hills in a horrifying way. They hunted in packs, intelligent and ferocious, and were difficult to see in the crater due to their signature blue and white coats. The Bestiary even theorized that their fur could change in reaction to their habitat. The reproduced naturally, but like the Hobbler's, a bite from a Howler would bring about a slow and painful change. But they usually didn't let you live to survive the bite. The few survivors told stories of being kept alive for weeks, hacking off a limb and cauterizing the wound until the pack needed to eat again. They liked their dinners fresh, and raw. Legs were always the first to go. Kris reckoned it was tougher to run away with a missing leg than a missing arm, though either prospect turned his stomach.
"I don't suppose you ever killed one before." Mac asked, eyeing Kris hopefully.
"Naw. But I reckon we'll both have the chance before the day is out."
"Always a silver lining with you, Arkansas. Tell me why the papers make you out to be such a cold hearted bastard."
"Search me." Kris said, shrugging. "Guess it makes for a better story." Kris had read up the past issues of the weekly, and that question was beginning to wear on him. Who was this "Snoop" character, anyway, and where did he get off ruinin' a fella's reputation?
"Well, I like you better this way." Mac said, slapping a hand on his shoulder as their horses proceeded down the narrow, winding trail into the crater.
"That makes two of us."
***
It was after two am when Kris heard it; a blood-curdling howl, answered by at least twelve more. Kris realized that they were surrounded. Though still at a distance, the Howlers were moving around them, and closer, like a tightening net.
"Mac." He hissed, elbowing Mac hard in the ribs. "Wake up, company." Mac sat up, bolt-straight and gun drawn.
"Where?"
"Listen." The light from the fire they had lit made their eyes strain to see shapes moving in the darkness.
"Aaaaooooooo" Came another long howl, high and sharp, bouncing off the crater walls. The creature's fellows answered, each howl sounding more upset.
"Why aren't they coming any closer?" Mac mumbled, and Kris could only shrug. After a few minutes of waiting in silence for a charge that never came, Kris pulled a log from the fire and held it aloft like a torch. Staying close to the fire, he walked in a slow perimeter, gun held steady in his right hand. A glance over his shoulder told him that Mac had traded out his pistol for a shotgun. That made Kris feel much better. The frustrated howling subsided as Kris circled, when out of the corner of his eye he sensed motion. Close motion. He pivoted and yelled -
"Arms up!" In the event that he had stumbled upon some unfortunate traveler. As the shape shambled closer into the small ring of light from the torch, Kris's eyes widened.
In front of him was man, of sorts. His back was crooked at an awkward angle, and his legs and arms seemed to bend in reverse. The thing had the face of a man, but his ears had grown long and sharp; twin blades that curved back like the horns of a gazelle. Twenty paces from him, the creature seemed to regard Kris for a moment before bobbing his head slightly. It was almost like a bow. Kris's first impulse was to return the gesture, but he didn't like the idea of losing sight of the beast, even for a moment. The thing tilted its head and opened his mouth. Mac rose, pointing his shotgun, but Kris waved to him to hold still.
"It comes to the Great Hole. Is it a tribute?" The voice was raspy. From the expression on the creature's face, Kris could tell it hurt to talk.
"A tribute?" Kris was confused. What could that mean.
"The tribe of men send us meat. Us leave them be, us they feed." The thing pointed towards Mac. "Is it a tribute?"
"No!" Kris spoke, comprehending now. The outlaws must have some sort of treaty with the beasts. They must trade human lives for safe passage through the crater. Kris's blood boiled. Filthy, no good cowards. "I'm a traveler, trying to reach the, um, the man-tribe. They took a friend of mine."
"Friend of thine, Food of mine. Half-man I am through one more moon, then beast I become and feast will I."
Kris shuddered in disgust, but pity swam in his heart. This thing had been a human once, and from it's jerking movement, it was in pain. He remembered the paragraph on transformation in the Bestiary and it steadied his gun hand.
"Well, sorry, but you can't eat me. Or my friends."
"This one knows. What does it carry that keeps it safe? Master is curious. Master can't come close. Only Half-man. It hurts Half-man less than the others. The snout, the snout." The thing cried, rubbing at its nose with his misshapen paw. "My eyes, they weep and water."
"I don't know what you mean." Kris said honestly, even as relief flowed through him
"Begone, shaman." Half-man begged. "Master wants find a way to kill, but Half-man wants you gone. Take bad thing with you. Don't come back. Master listens to Half-man." Half-man added a bit proudly.
"Thank you for putting in a good word for us, Half-man. We'll leave at first light.
"Now!" Half-man insisted.
"I don't like this, Arkansas..." Sarver warned, finger heavy on the trigger. "Our path moves awfully close to the wall. They don't have to come close to kill us if they drop something. And the horses could break a leg. There's cracks and chasms all over."
"You made deal with man-tribe. I make deal with you." Kris said, slipping into the cadence of Half-man's speech momentarily. "We'll leave as soon as the sun comes up. If you attack us, I swear to the almighty I'll bring a whole train full of the bad thing and leave it here. You leave us alone, and I'll never bring the bad thing back." Whatever it is he silently added.
Half-man tilted his head as if considering.
"It sleeps lightly. Half-man tell Master. Maybe Master listens. Short days and safe moons, shaman."
With that the thing bowed again, and this time Kris returned the gesture.
"Well, that was interesting." Kris said as he returned to Mac.
"You've got nerves tougher than a wooden door, Kid." Mac admitted. "If it were me I woulda shot that thing as soon as I saw it."
"I kinda felt bad for it, really. Not so long ago he was no different than you or I. He's still not too much different. Course, not for too much longer. Another month and he'll be -" An angry howl sounded in the distance, followed by several yelps. "One of them."
"You think we're safe?" Mac asked. "What was it talking about, the bad thing?"
"I don't know. But he called me a shaman. That's like an herbalist, I think." Kris hummed low in his throat and remembered Adam explaining to him about the Redfire plant. His hand throbbed in remembrance of the burn, and soon the rest of him was throbbing too, his body recalling the cure.
Kris walked over to Conway and rooted through his saddlebags. It couldn't be their trail provisions, everyone had those and clearly they hadn't stopped a Howler attack. Reaching the bottom of one of the bags, his fingers felt an unfamiliar cloth satchel. He pulled it out and moved towards the fire. It was doubled up cotton, hastily stitched up, with a button closure. Kris opened the pouch.
"Whatever it is you're doing, I suggest you hurry. I don't think Master wanted to listen to Half-man. My guess is that Half-man isn't going to see the next moon."
"Hold on." Kris said, fingers trembling. A note was tucked inside, along with three smaller pouches. Kris squeezed one of the pouches. It crunched a bit, and smelled like lavender and something else Kris couldn't name. He unfolded the note, and in Adam's careful handwriting he could read.
"Burn me."
The words left a knot in his throat. Kris removed one of the small pouches and tossed in into the center fire. The flames instantly died down, but it was only a moment before they shot up, higher than before. Smoke began billowing out from the fire in cascading rings.
Kris could hear the Howlers all around them, moving closer. He could even see their eyes glowing a sickly blue gray in the reflected light. The biggest one advanced, Kris could see his giant wolfish body and hear his slavering growl.
The first ring of smoke washed over Kris and Mac and pushed around them, bubbling over rocks like water boiling in too small a pot. It entered Kris's nostrils and mouth as he breathed, and Kris absentmindedly thought it tasted sweet.
"Screw this." Mac said, and the twin blasts from his shotgun rang out. The shot only struck rock however, as the Howlers were retreating into the darkness, sounding their anger and discontent.
"Half-man told you!" Kris heard a female half-breed shout. "It fills our land with smoke and fire. It chokes us." Her complaints were met by a snarl, and Kris had to cover his ears to keep from hearing the sounds of tearing flesh and tortured screams.
"Told you there ain't much that Doctor of yours don't know." Mac said, slapping Kris on the back.
"Wish he would have told me."
"Maybe he hoped he wouldn't have to. Hell, the smell kept them away well enough without being burned. Maybe he thought if you believed you were safe you wouldn't be careful." Sarver said, reloading his gun. "I'm sure he thought it best."
"Yeah." Kris was torn between feeling intensely grateful and mildly annoyed that Adam didn't mention the pouch. Then again, after their goodbye in the parlor Adam had gone straight up to the lab while Kris packed. Perhaps he just couldn't break away from Allison. He recalled the look in Adam's eyes. Perhaps he just couldn't bear another goodbye.
Kris let himself be hypnotized by the fire and the sweet taste of the smoke rings as he tried to chase away the ghost of the sad morning. It was better to think about the night before, and all the night that were yet to come. Short suns and safe moons, Adam. He thought as he slipped off to sleep, leaving Mac to stand watch.
***
"There looks to be six, at least right now." Mac said, peering out over a ridge. "Could be more in them tents. There's Matty right there" Mac pointed to a figure, hogtied and laying in the dirt. "No sign of your girlfriend."
"She's not my-" Kris started, but shook his head. Not important right now. Something was bugging him. This felt wrong. "I thought this was going to be a more permanent settlement." Kris said with a frown. "Not a bunch of tents. Why drag us all the way here when they could have met us anywhere?"
"Hoped the Howlers would take care of you for them, I guess,
"But they think we're bringing money. You think the howlers would have brought them the money?"
"It's possible." Sarver said with a frown. "Look, I ain't much of a detective. But I have been known to gamble. There's two of us and six of them. With you here, I like those odds, Arkansas."
"Right on, Mac. Which one do you reckon came to see you."
"I don't see him. They coulda hired someone, I suppose. Or maybe he's out making more threats, how the hell do I know? Look, you take those three and I'll take the balance."
"I could hit one from here. Maybe two, depending on how fast they moved." Kris said, squinting one eye. The tip of his tongue snaked out as he took aim.
"Count to ten first, let me get into position." Sarver said, moving slowly so as not to attract attention. Kris used the time to scan the camp again. No sign of Katy. There were exactly six horses and one mule. Kris focused in on Matty, and was relieved to see him wriggle a bit.
Ten, Kris thought, and squeezed the trigger. A second later, one of the gunmen was bleeding out onto the red soil. He took aim again, trying to find a second target amongst the rabidly scattering men. Matty screamed through his gag, looking terrified. Kris thought he sounded a bit like the Harpseechords whose vocal chords he now possessed. He took aim again and fired, missing a second bandit by an inch. Kris needed to get closer.
He launched himself down the hill, scurrying from rock to log to rock, trying to pick an unexpected path down the side as the outlaws fired at him. He heard the satisfying blast of Mac's shotgun and the even more satisfying sound of two bodies hitting the dirt.
"Two to one, Arkansas." Mac bellowed, ducking behind a rock to reload. Kris popped up and fired off one shot from each pistol. He caught one straight between the eyes and another in the chest.
"Damn" Kris said, and leaned out again to hit the wounded man in the head. It was a mercy, and besides, the man could still fire a weapon.
"Last one's mine" Sarver said, moving from behind his boulder.
"Look out!" Kris called, but it was too late. Mac was so focused on his target that he completely missed the tree branch in front of him and tripped, rolling down the side of the hill into the open camp.
"Son of a-" Kris head Mac exclaim as he instinctively reached for his ankle. Kris saw the lone gunman take aim. He only had a second to react. He raised his left hand and shot, sending a bullet into the gunman's hand. The gun he held fell to the ground, and Kris ran over to it, kicking it as far as he could.
"Where is she?" Kris screamed at the trembling outlaw, years of frustration falling from him in one livid shout.
"Que?" Kris heard him respond, and swore under his breath. Of course the one left alive wouldn't speak English. Kris pulled the picture from his vest pocket and repeated. "WHERE?"
The captive began to babble animatedly, and Kris didn't like the look on his face. The man wore an arrogant smile. Kris didn't speak much Spanish, but he knew a few choice words, and hearing those words applied to Katy filled him with boiling rage, even after all these years. Sad last words for a man, but Kris wasn't in the forgiving mood.
"God damn, Arkansas." Mac said, looking Kris up and down. His vest was splattered with blood from shooting at far too close of a range. "Remind me to stay on your good side."
Kris didn't respond, couldn't respond. If what the man was saying was true, Katy had been ...he couldn't even bring himself to think the words. He could only think of how she must be suffering. If there was even a chance she was still alive, Kris had to find her. Kris bent down and prodded Mac's ankle.
"Alright?" He asked, finally finding his tongue.
"Think it might be broken. Tough to tell, really."
"Hang on." Kris pulled out his knife and cut away a sleeve from one of the shirts the bandits had been wearing. Carefully removing Mac's boot, he wrapped the injured foot as best he knew how. Mac pulled a flask from his pocket and drank the whole thing in one long pull.
"MMMmmmmpppphh!" Kris heard over his shoulder, and turned round. In his anger over Katy, he had completely forgotten the reason they were there. Matty was trying to wriggle his way towards Kris, but his hands and arms were tied behind his back so he wasn't going anywhere fast.
"Hold on there, Matty." Kris said, rushing over to him and cutting his bonds. Matt pulled the gag out of his mouth.
"Damn. You think I'd be used to it but it's really nice to be able to talk." He threw his arms around Kris and hugged him close. Kris felt a bit uncomfortable, but supposed he would cling onto anyone that rescued him from death too. "Thank you."
"Weren't nothing." Kris smiled, patting his back. "Getting past the Howlers was the scary part. These guys were practically green peas."
"That's just 'cause you were here, Mr. Arkansas." Matt gushed.
"Aw, Mac Sarver's the one you should be thankin'" Kris said, trying to squirm away.
"Yeah, I saw him fall. Is the doctor with you? You're still ridin' the rivers with him, aren't ya?"
"He's not here. But yeah, I still work for him."
"Aw, shit, don't give me that. You two get on real famously. Like Old Clyde Hutchins and Steely Pedro." Kris had no idea who Old Clyde and Steely Pedro were, but it didn't matter since Matt launched into a ballad chronicling their friendship as they helped Mac onto Prince.
"Guess you can pick a horse." Kris said, gesturing towards the herd of animals. "That blue roan looks the best to me."
"Yeah. I could call her Kalamazoo, where I'm from." Matt said, delightedly hopping onto the horse’s back.
"Sounds great, Kris said, patting Conway as he mounted. "Hey Matt, can you tell me somethin?"
"Sure. Anything."
"They have you anywhere else before you came here?" Kris asked, hopeful.
"Don't rightly know. We might have stopped, but they hit me over the head pretty hard after my set on Thursday. I came-to here, on the ground." Matt volunteered.
"Thanks Matt. Kris said, nudging Conway into a brisk trot. "Ready, Mac?"
"As I'll ever be. Boy, Matt, you sure are makin' up for lost time." Sarver said with a smile.
"Hey, Arkansas, can I ask you something? What ever happened to that lady you met on your first day here? Gosh she was swell, wasn't she Mac?"
"She did cut quite a figure. What happened to her, Kris, she give you the mitten?"
"Something like that." Kris said, arching his brow as the other two men laughed.
"Well don't worry. Plenty of grass widows out here." Matt said, bringing Kalamazoo right up alongside Conway.
"Arkansas don't need no grass widows, he's got a gal." Mac said.
"Oh, of course." Matty said. Kris closed his eyes and discreetly spurred Conway into a canter.
***
It was late the next day when Kris put Conway into her stall. The moon was already high in the sky, and he could see the faint blue glow of the newly Bluefire-lit laboratory. He had wanted to turn in, but if Adam was still awake...
A hunger tore through his belly that had nothing to do with food. He had only been gone for three days, but it felt like an eternity. He was going to have to be gone longer than that in order to find Katy, and that knowledge ate at him even as he slid open the tin door to the lab. He'd have to make Adam understand. It wasn't about love, finding Katy. Well, maybe that was part of it. But it wasn't the same sort of love he felt for Adam. Helping her was no different than staying at home to help his Mamma when she was sick so many years ago. Sometimes you couldn't follow your heart. Sometimes a man had to do what needed doing.
"I'm home" Kris called into the empty room, knowing his voice would carry through the thin walls.
"Mmmmhhhhmmph!" Was the only reply. Kris thought of Matty immediately, how he had sounded when gagged. Kris burst through the door of the study and his heart fell into his boots.
Lil, Scott, and Allison (who looked markedly less blue but whose hair remained a brilliant pink) were tied together and gagged, sitting on the floor. Scott's goggles lay on the floor, smashed. Dried blood was beneath his nose, which had obviously been broken and he appeared to be passed out. Adam was nowhere to be seen.
He was about to cut them free when he saw something else that made his blood run cold.
On the slate, in angry chalk letters, was a message confirming Kris's darkest fear.
"Don't come looking, Arkansas."
***
Epitaph.
Well readers, I've got good news and I've got bad news. I'll give ya the good news first since I'm such a positive guy. My sources tell me that Arkansas and Fightin' Mac Sarver took a small excursion west, visiting such scenic holiday areas such as The Fragments and the howler infested Crater before getting down to the business of freeing the kidnapped Matt Giraud, who was being held for $30,000.00 in ransom. Who knew his golden throat was worth that much? Of course, Arkansas doesn't pay ransom, so he and Mac made short work of butchering those outlaws. When are you going to learn, bad guys, don't mess with Krissy the Kid. It'll only end with a bullet between your eyes.
Krissy came home unscathed, but poor Mac will be laid up for a few weeks with a bad sprain. How he got a sprained ankle in a gun fight is beyond me.
More good news! Dr. Lambert has managed to reverse the transformation of Allison Iraheta from famed young singer into slobbering Hobbler! The singer, recently turned twenty and still unmarried, gentlemen, says she is feeling fine and "loves her new look." Her new look, of course, is the permanently pink coiffure she wears as a badge of honor.
Now, for the bad news. Dr. Adam Lambert has been featured here recently for his philanthropy and for his invention, the Bluefire Light. Turns out that wasn't the only invention he was working on. While his hired gun hand was off saving the piano man, the Doctor was removed from his laboratory, along with a cart full of scientific experiments and notes. What could he have been working on, and more importantly, who decided that the invention was valuable enough to abscond with Westport's number one citizen (even if he is a bit of an odd stick?) No news of who could be responsible, though this reporter thinks that the timing is a bit of a coincidence. Something tells me Krissy is in over his head on this one. Maybe The Snoop should offer his detective services. But then who would there be to report the aftermath?
Till next week, like the Howlers say, Short suns and safe moons!
The Snoop
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