A Thousand Falling Crows (25 page)

A quick glance over her shoulder didn't make Carmen feel any better. Eddie was struggling to keep Tió upright, on two feet. He was nearly dragging him. Tió looked pale and weak. The blood on his shirt was unmistakable in the bright overhead sun. Vultures circled to the west, inching closer with every rotation, and there had been no one on the trail. They hadn't seen anyone since they'd left the fisherman. It was like they were on the moon, or lost in the desert—alone, without any idea of what was waiting for them around the next bend. They could hope for water, but it would most likely be a mirage.

Carmen pushed on up the hill, carrying the two bottles of Dr. Pepper and what was left of the bread. She was out of breath, sweating, tired, and scared, but she had no choice but to continue to climb. Time had faded away. She wore no watch, had no idea how long it had been since they'd abandoned the beat up Model A at the base of Quartz Mountain. It seemed like hours, but it had probably been less than that.

She finally crested the rise of the hill, and, much to her dismay and disappointment, there was no shack. There was nothing but more hills to climb. A few trees along the path, mostly dead or dying. Nothing green. Nothing to offer her any hope—not even a shadow.

Fear shimmered through her entire body from head to toe. Carmen was afraid Eddie would be mad, would scream at her, hit her. She had seen what he had done to Tió when he'd crossed him. Tió's eye was still black from the hit he took from Eddie after they'd robbed Lancer's Market. Still, she stood and waited for the brothers to catch up to her.

Eddie was sweating as heavily as Carmen was, maybe more. His shirt was soaked all the way through, like he had stood out in the rain without an umbrella. His hair was wet and his bronze skin shiny, like it had been waxed. Any resemblance to an Aztec god had left him long before he stepped out from behind the steering wheel of the car. Tió looked pretty much the same, except that he was frail, looked like he was ready to surrender to the fight to stand, to breathe, to live.

“I can't go on. We have bad luck because we left Mercury behind,” Tió said. He bent over and grabbed his knees. Every time his lungs heaved, more blood eased out of the wound on his arm.

“It's just a little farther,
me'jo
. That thing wouldn't have made a difference.” Eddie looked over to Carmen questioningly. She lifted her shoulders slightly, offering a negative shrug, hoping Tió didn't see it—but he did.

“Maybe we are on the wrong trail,” Carmen offered. “It's been a long time, and mostly it was my father in the lead.”

“He was on a run, wasn't he?” Eddie asked.

“I didn't know it then, but probably. What do we know of vacations? People like us. We were barely lucky enough to have enough masa to make tortillas.”

Eddie held onto Tió so he didn't teeter and fall forward. “We can only hope this is still a gin-running route. That there's still a trail through here. It's isolated enough. I see why Aldo was drawn to this place, used it. You have to figure out where we are, Carmen.” There was concern in Eddie's voice. He was afraid for Tió. But there was a hard edge to it, too. The hint of the threat she feared.

Carmen closed her eyes and tried to remember the path to the shack. There was a round rock in her memory, a rock like the one at the top of the rise. “I am pretty sure it was here. But maybe it is farther up. I had little legs then, and I was afraid. I had never been to a place like this. But who knows? There was once a town below. Now there is a lake. Things change, Eddie.”

Eddie stared at Carmen unfazed, then said, “Go on, go up and see what you can find. But leave me one of them bottles of Dr. Pepper.”

Carmen handed him a bottle and the bread and thought about offering an encouraging word to Tió but said nothing. She marched away with her unopened bottle, looking straight ahead, hoping upon hope that she was right. Time was not on Tió's side. He couldn't last on the trail much longer, she was sure of it.

It didn't take long for Eddie and Tió to be out of sight. If she had ever thought of making a run for it, this was her chance. Except there was nowhere to run. Sooner or later, Eddie would find her. She knew that as certainly as she knew that the sun was nothing but a big, round rock, set afire for eternity. Eddie would be as persistent as the sun. He would rise tomorrow and the next day to find her if she ran. So she pushed on, her quest certain.

About ten minutes into her trek, she came to another rise and a similar rock formation. To her relief, a small shack sat in the shadow of a high outcropping. It was smaller than she remembered, but it was there—a place for them to hide, to recover, to figure out where to go next.

Before heading back to Eddie, Carmen made her way to the shack. The door was closed, and the windows were covered with dust and grime. It didn't look like anyone had been around for a long time. There weren't even any coon tracks to be seen around the door or under the windows. Which meant there was no food to be found, inside or out. A determined raccoon would have had no problem making its way into the shack if it really wanted to get in, if there was a smell of the smallest bite to eat. But then she thought,
maybe there's not coons up this far. What do I know?

Carmen pushed her way inside the door, easing it open as carefully as she could. She held the remaining bottle of Dr. Pepper by the neck, like it was a miniature club.

There was no sign of life inside the shack, except maybe a startled spider. The window sills were lined with dead moths. Two bunk beds, an old Franklin stove with the exhaust pipe dangling from the wall, and a water pump next to a sink that looked like it had rusted up pretty much took up all of the room inside the small, one-room shack. A tall locker stood between the bunks. It looked like it was once used for storing clothes and guns. The shack smelled musty and a little pungent, like maybe something had crawled into it and died. But there was no sign of a skeleton or pelt to be seen. Carmen left the door open when she left to find Eddie and tell him the good news.

It didn't take long for her to the find the twins. They were right where she had left them. Tió looked a little stronger. The empty bottle of Dr. Pepper sat at his feet, and Eddie had refashioned the tourniquet on his arm.

Tió wobbled when he stood up, and Eddie was there to catch him if he fell, but he didn't. Tió walked the rest of the way to the shack on his own.

Once inside the shack, Eddie made sure that Tió was settled on the bottom bunk and stood back. “I‘ll be back as soon as I can.”

Carmen put down the Dr. Pepper, and Eddie handed her the bread and a bottle opener. It was all they had. “I‘ll get things straightened up. I hope that water pump works,” she said.

“I won't be gone long. Into Vinson and back. It'll be after dark.” Eddie dug into his back, and pulled out the handgun. He offered it to Carmen. “Take this. You might need it.”

She shook her head. “I don't want that. I never want to touch another gun in my life, Eddie.”

Eddie stared at her hard and pushed the gun at her, pressed it barrel down against her chest. “You'll need to protect yourself.”

“What if I killed that cop, Eddie? I‘ll go to jail. They'll electrocute me.”

“You don't know if it hit him or not. Don't matter. Nobody'll find us. I promise.”

“I don't like your promises, Eddie.” Carmen couldn't restrain herself any longer. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Thick tears that had had time to build up and break the dam of her eyelids and fall to the dusty floor in a splatter.

Eddie pushed the gun harder into Carmen's chest, and she stumbled backward, coming to a stop at the threshold of the door. “Take it,” he demanded.

Before Eddie could say another word, Tió jumped up from the bunk and put himself in between them. “Give me the gun, Eddie,” he said. “Ain't the girl's job to look out for me. I‘ll shoot if I have to. You know that.”

Eddie exhaled, let his own cheeks collapse from their tenseness, then pushed the gun at Tió. “Shoot to kill.”

Tió took the gun and glanced over at Carmen. “Ain't nobody gonna need to get shot, 'cause ain't no one that knows where we are. But if they come lookin', I‘ll do what I have to. Ain't none of us goin' to jail.”

Eddie nodded. “All right, then.” He pushed by Carmen and walked out the door.

She said nothing, just looked at the floor and tried to pretend like she didn't exist as Eddie stalked by her.

There was little of use in the locker. A couple of old rags, a half-burned candle, an empty crate that had once held ammunition, and a bunch of cobwebs that disintegrated upon being touched. But luck had smiled on them with a few things that could be of use, most notably, outside of an old coat, was a box of safety matches and another small box that held a couple of spools of thread and a sewing needle.

Carmen smiled at the discovery. “I can try and sew up your arm, Tió.”

He was sitting on the bed, stiff, alert at every noise. He had eaten nearly all of the bread. “Eddie can do it when he gets back.”

“I won't hurt you.” Carmen stood up and walked over to him carrying the thread in one hand and the matches in the other.

Tió stared at her for a long moment. “It stopped bleeding.”

“Let me see.”

He shook his head.

Carmen stared back at him, disappointed. “I won't hurt you,” she repeated.

Tió sighed and looked away, out the door. “I know.” It was nearly a whisper. He looked over at his shoulder, then slowly started to untie the tourniquet.

“I‘ve never done this before, but I‘ve sewed a lot of things. It'd probably be better if we had something to clean the wound with, but there's nothing.”

“Dr. Pepper,” Tió said.

“I guess it'll have to do,” Carmen said. She found the bottle, then shook out a rag and beat it against her leg. Certain that it was as clean as it was going to get, she dabbed the syrupy drink onto it.

The skin on Tió's arm gaped open like someone had taken a very sharp knife and slit it open. But it wasn't a knife. It was a bullet. A bullet that had cut right across the muscle and kept on going. The wound was bloody and deep but not deep enough to show bone. Carmen was glad of that. She didn't know if sewing it up would help if that were the case.

She eased in and touched the wet rag to Tió's skin as gently as she could. “Does that hurt?”

He shook his head and looked away. “Go on.”

“Okay.” Carmen cleaned away what blood she could, then set a flame over the needle, sanitizing it as well as possible, then threaded it and pierced the first bit of skin, while holding it together with her other hand.

Tió flinched but said nothing. His jaw tightened, and Carmen could tell that he was biting his lip as hard as he could without puncturing it. “Should I stop?” she asked.

“Finish,” Tió said. “Please.”

Carmen went on with the sewing, piercing and looping as tight as she could. Her movement caused the wound to start bleeding all over again, and her hands were nearly as blood-covered as Tió's arm.

Finally, she drew in the last loop, pulled the thread in, and snipped it off. “Are you all right?”

Tió nodded. “Are you done?”

“For now. As long as it holds.” Carmen touched the stitches as softly as she could, proud of her work.

She stood up, wiped her hands on her dress, and took a little swallow of the Dr. Pepper. There was only about half an inch left in the bottom.

Her stomach growled with hunger, and Tió must have heard it. He offered her what was left of the bread. “It's yours,” he said.

Carmen took the bread, bit off a piece and walked to the door. She stood just inside it and stared out into the world. She wondered where Eddie was, and, for the first time, hoped that he hadn't gotten himself in trouble. They needed him.

There were no clouds in the sky, and the wind had died away, vanished like it had worn itself out from blowing so hard. A coyote yipped in the distance, its lonely call soulful and frightening at the same time. Not only were they at risk from somebody finding them but from animals, too.

Carmen closed the door, bringing darkness inside the shack. The only light came in through the two windows.

“Leave it open,” Tió said. “Just a little.”

Carmen stopped, studied the look on his face, and said, “Are you afraid of the dark, Tió?”

He didn't answer. He pulled up his shirt sleeve, and lay down on the bed, his back to Carmen and to the door.