Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (39 page)

Gentleman Jim's shrill laughter rang out loud enough to drown out Jem's response.
 
"Look at y'all!
 
Standing around flustered, thinkin' I'm finished.
 
How you think I been getting all them girls off planet anyway?
 
Huh?
 
I ain't got no transports.
 
Do I look like I can get the clearances for that?
 
You all done stepped in it now.
 
You messed with the wrong man."

Saringo shoved him forward and Jim screamed as he put weight on the leg stuck with the arrow and cursed the man.
 
"Shut your hole," Saringo barked.
 
 

Jim nodded at Father Charles, "I remember your little girl.
 
That was the kind of quim you don't forget."
 
Before he got to the cart he winked at Ichante, "I bet you got something nice down there too for me.
 
I'll be seeing you real soon, sugar.
 
I'll be seeing all of you real, real soon."

Saringo shoved him down onto the edge of the cart and said, "That's enough.
 
Sit still while I tie you up."
 

Gentleman Jim kept laughing while Saringo fetched the rope, "Don't you sleep at night, Jem Clayton of Seneca 6.
 
Lawmen ain't hard to find at all."

"Come see me whenever you want," Jem said.
 
"I love company."

"I bet you do."
 

Saringo came around the side of the cart and said, "All right, put your hands together."

"I
like
being tied up," Jim said.
 
He looked at Ichante, "How about you?
 
You like being tied up?"
 
Saringo yanked the ropes tight around Jim's wrists and the bandit hissed, "God damn it, Johnny, not so tight!
 
What the hell you trying to do?"

Saringo grabbed Jim by the back of the hair and slammed him down onto the cart.
 
"You say another word and I'll kill you right here, you understand me?" he screamed.
 
He went around the side of his destrier and kicked himself up onto it.
 
"On second thought, I'd give it awhile before any of you come to Tradesville," Saringo said.
 
"I'm sure some people there are going to want to spend some quality time with this piece of garbage."

Jem and Father Charles watched Saringo snap his reins and lead his prisoner away.
 
"Is it just me, or did he never mention his first name to us?" Jem said.
 

"I do not believe he did," the preacher said.
 

***

They retrieved their destriers and set out to make camp for the evening, taking whatever supplies they wanted from the outlaws stores but keeping far enough away to remove themselves from the stench of death.
 
The men gave their blankets to the two women, but insisted Ichante keep hers.
 
She scolded them for being "stupid men" but kept it tight around her shoulders as night fell and the temperature began to drop.
 

Jem stirred the fire with a long branch, watching it spark and ignite and go back out again.
 
There had been no ceremony when they ate.
 
No celebration.
 
They were too hungry.
 
The two women did not eat, regardless of how much the preacher tried to coax them.
 
"You're safe now," he said, waving a spoon of hot pudding in front of them.
 
"It's all right."

"They will never be same," Ichante said.
 
"They are living ghosts.
 
Dead on the inside from what was done to them."

"I do not believe that," Father Charles said.
 
"In the morning, I'm taking them to the hospital in Seneca Four.
 
Maybe they can help find these women's families."
 

"What about Mr. Saringo?" Jem said.
 
"I figured you were headed for Tradesville."

"I'll get there," the preacher said.
 
"But I can't just abandon these two in the process.
 
For all of my little girl's life I was a preacher.
 
Sometimes I think about all the things I done since Wendy was taken and I wonder if she'll recognize the man who comes to take her home."

Ichante leaned against Jem and put some of her blanket over him.
 
"And what about you, wasichu?
 
What will you do now?"

He looked over at Haienwa'tha's sleeping form.
 
The boy was curled next to the fire like a cat.
 
"I'm gonna help him to catch up to his group.
 
They can use all these supplies we found."

"And after that?
 
Will you go home?
 
Back to your family and your woman?"

"I might just pay a visit to Tradesville.
 
Anyway, I'm not sure my family would be all too happy to see me since I run off again.
 
And as far as my woman goes, well, let's just say there isn't one."

Ichante looked up at him.
 
The blonde hair dye was faded and in the firelight reflecting from her dark eyes he saw a thousand years' worth of mysteries to explore and untangle.
 
She was as soft as she was hard and he wondered what kind of man would be the one to unlock her riddles.
 
"I am going to the salt dunes in the South.
 
They say that the moons hang so low over the planet that people have thrown rocks onto their surface."

"Is that right?" Jem said.
 

"I always travel alone, so do not ask me to come."

"Okay," Jem said.

"Because even though you are handsome, you are a wasichu.
 
And you are stupid."

Jem laughed, "That about sums it up."

She looked up at him, eyes as large as the moons she'd just described, "Unless you happened to be going to the salt dunes already.
 
Then I suppose it would be acceptable."

He ran his fingers through her hair and said, "I just remembered that I been wanting to go there my entire life."
 

Epilogue: Bart Masters' Decision

It was dark along Pioneer Way and late enough that Bart Masters couldn't make out the faces of the people sitting on their porches.
 
He could only hear the ice cubes swishing around in their glasses and their swings creaking back and forth on chains that had been strung three generations prior.
 
Old and rusty, Bart thought, but strong in ways that they don't make anymore.
 

Bart knew the way well enough.
 
He'd grown up in the house he was headed for.
 

He tied off his destrier at the porch and knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to startle anyone within.
 
A large woman answered and said, "Bart?
 
What brings you out this late?"

"Good evening, Janet," Bart said.
 
He took off his hat as she let him in.
 
The place looked nicer than he'd ever seen it since he'd sold it to Janet's father, Fred the old gatekeeper.
 
There were pictures hung on the walls and flowers in the vases atop the side tables.
 

"Is my sister giving you trouble?" Janet said.
 

"No ma'am.
 
We're happy as can be.
 
I actually came here on business.
 
I was wondering, is your husband still awake?"

A gruff voice called down from upstairs, "You think I go to bed at sundown?
 
I'm not that old, you disrespectful son of a bitch,"

Bart smiled and leaned over the stair rail, "And here I always thought the hearing was the first thing to go, old-timer."

James McParlan came to the top of the steps and planted his cane on the floor, using it to lower his stiff legs one at a time.
 
"Don't I wish.
 
Maybe then I'd have an excuse to ignore your sister-in-law when she bosses me around."

Janet laughed, "Bart, can I fix you something?"

"No thank you."

"I'll take a whiskey and soda," McParlan said.

"You can have warm tea and like it."
 

McParlan grunted with effort as he braced himself against the stair rail.
 
"See what I have to put up with?
 
Anyway, what brings you out here?"

"I've got a vacancy in the Sheriff's office.
 
Jem resigned his position temporarily and I need someone to fill it."

"Do you think maybe that when the villagers came after him with the fiery pitchforks you could have done a little more to defend him?"
 

"I probably could have," Bart said.
 
"Truth be told, Marshal, I don't think Jem's been real happy in the job."

"Retired," McParlan said.

"Sorry?"

"You said Marshal.
 
I said retired.
 
And the answer is no."

"I didn't ask you anything yet."

"You were about to ask me if I'd fill in while Jem is away, and the answer is no."

Janet Walters came out of the kitchen with a cup of hot tea.
 
She waited for McParlan to sit down and she handed it to him along with a napkin and a saucer.
 
"I thought I asked for whiskey," McParlan said.

"Just drink it, you old complainer."

McParlan lifted the cup to his lips and sipped it, then smiled.
 
"I'll take rum over sugar any day, darling."
 
He set the cup and the saucer on the table and said, "My days of carrying on are behind me, Mayor Masters.
 
If those boys had hit that bank and I was there, I'd be a bloody mess of holes on the street.
 
I ain't got the stuff no more.
 
All this damn domestic bliss has made me soft."

"He's done enough law enforcing for six lifetimes, Bart," Janet said.
 
"He's still suffering from what those bastards did to him out in the canyon and now you want him to risk his neck again?
 
Did you really think either one of us was going to say yes?"

"I understand what you're saying," Bart said, "but I really didn't have any other choice.
 
There's nobody else who can do the job."

"All you need is someone fair-minded, strong-willed, and who ain't got an ounce of quit in 'em," McParlan said.

"Every man I can think of who would be halfway decent at the job is making too much money in the unions to even think about quitting."