Chapter Fourteen

 

 

As soon as the wag, with Ryan and Dean waving goodbye, had vanished from the outskirts of Glenwood Springs, J.B. suggested they should start looking for transport to follow up the southeasterly trail.

 

But they quickly came across three problems.

 

One was that parts of the ville, mainly along the Frontage Road, had suffered badly from an earthquake and few of the buildings in that sector had more than a shell left. Which cut down the options of locating a rig.

 

Secondly, as the weather had deteriorated, becoming colder, with a short flurry of snow, all of the wild horses and mules that had been feeding quietly on the lower pastures around the ville chose to kick up their heels and trek west out of town, moving parallel to the Colorado River, the ruined railway and the buckled interstate.

 

But the third unexpected problem was far more dangerous to the five companions.

 

They'd split up to facilitate the search, and Krysty and Doc had paired up, moving along the side roads, past what looked like a park.

 

"That might perchance be worth a little investigation," Doc said, pointing with the tip of his swordstick at a rusted wrought-iron sign that had toppled sideways, but was held up by a spreading fig tree. It read, Rio Rancho Bar-B-Q Eats and Livery Stable.

 

Krysty grinned at the old man. "Sounds a better bet than Ma's Place, Doc."

 

"Of blessed memory," he said, crossing himself.

 

There was an overgrown entrance drive, between two rows of fallen picket fencing. The pavement was broken up and covered in weeds, though it still showed occasional smudges of white paint where cars had been parked.

 

The front of the building was designed to look like a nineteenth-century ranch, constructed from pitched logs with deep-set windows and rifle slits. But as Krysty and Doc drew nearer to the entrance, they could see that this was all a crude facade and that behind the exterior was a single-story concrete building in poor repair.

 

The doorway gaped like an unfilled tooth, and the row of shattered windows stared like blinded eyes.

 

"Some outbuildings around back," Krysty said. "Barn with its roof still in place."

 

The park was quiet, with only a gentle wind blowing through the fluttering leaves of some stately aspens that had seeded themselves at the rear of the restaurant. There were some peculiar shapes in what had to have been the back garden, mostly buried in yellow-flowering creeper and poison ivy, which Krysty finally realized were just the rotting relics of plastic picnic tables and chairs.

 

Thunder rumbled somewhere to the north of Glenwood Springs, where a bank of dark purple chem clouds threatened a serious storm.

 

"Long way off," Krysty said.

 

"I do most fondly hope so. I would not like to think of Ryan and the poor dear lad caught out in the open in inclement weather. I shall not feel totally happy until this year has crawled by and we are reunited once more with Master Dean."

 

"I'll feel happy when we meet up with Ryan again," Krysty said, running her fingers through her fiery hair, feeling the tightness of the curls.

 

"Up by Fairplay. One of the things that amazed me, when I was trawled back to the days just before pre-dark, was the way that snowy, remote Colorado had become infinitely fashionable Colorado. Little hamlets that one passed through, like Vail, becoming the abode of the briefly rich and famous."

 

They were only a few paces from the barn, with one door swinging gently back and forth, when Krysty held up a hand, silently drawing her Model 640 Smith amp; Wesson double-action .38. Doc raised an eyebrow, pulling out his own Le Mat, thumbing back the scatter-gun hammer.

 

"What?" he whispered.

 

"Someone in there," Krysty stated. "I can feel it. Someone frightened."

 

"Mayhap I should go on ahead and attempt to seek out this person, while you wait here, Krysty?"

 

She smiled. "I don't think so, Doc."

 

She raised her voice. "Come on out, whoever you are. We won't hurt you."

 

Nothing happened. A tawny bird, with a red breast, took off noisily from the aspens, fluttering north.

 

"We're coming in. If we do, then someone might get themselves chilled."

 

"Don't" said a small, quavering voice.

 

Krysty glanced at Doc. "I got a feeling I know who's hiding in there."

 

She called, "Come out, child."

 

The door opened wider and a young girl emerged into the daylight, blinking, hands held up in front of her as though she feared a blow. There was a deep bruise on her face.

 

"By the Three Kennedys!" Doc shook his head. "The serving wench from Ma's Place. Did you guess that it was her, Krysty? Quite amazing."

 

"Don't shoot me like you shot Ma."

 

"We won't."

 

The little face had sharp, foxy eyes and a pinched mouth. "They don't know you shot Ma, folks here. They think she died in the fire. And me. They get real hanging cross if they know truth."

 

The underlying message was all too clear.

 

Doc had holstered his pistol, but he half raised his cane. "You impudent little minx!"

 

"You can hit me, but that don't hurt. Been hit by Ma, then you been hit by best. One way stop me goin' and tellin' everyone in the ville that you butchered poor Ma."

 

"And that's doubtless a handful of jack, is it?" Krysty asked gently.

 

"Could be." She grinned confidently, sticking her tongue out at Doc. "And you better be nice to me, you old fart."

 

"What?"

 

"Or you get to dance on air from the hanging tree by river. Yeah, you better be real nice. Maria say kiss my feet, and you better get on your belly and do like I say. Or one word from me"

 

Doc's knuckles were white on the silver lion's-head hilt of the swordstick, and his mouth opened and closed like a stranded fish at the girl's rudeness.

 

Krysty was barely keeping her iron self-control, glancing casually around the garden to make sure that they weren't being watched by anyone.

 

She spoke to Doc. "You know what Ryan would do if he was here, don't you?"

 

He nodded, his face like flint. "For once I believe he might be right."

 

"What you talk about?" the girl asked, edging closer to them. "You don't whisper secrets or else"

 

"Can you do it, Doc?"

 

"In cold blood? Or even when I am angered, as I am now?" He hesitated. "I fear that I could not."

 

"Mebbe I can." Krysty drew her blaster and pointed it at Maria. "Don't make a sound or you get to go meet Ma again. Understand, child?"

 

"Sure," she replied, her eyes wide with sudden terror at the realization that her cunning plan was built on shifting sand. There was a faint tinkling sound, and a dark pool appeared in the dust between her bare feet.

 

"Turn around, quickly," Krysty ordered.

 

"You shoot me in back of the neck." Her voice was almost inaudible with fear.

 

"Turn around and lift your hair off your nape. Do it!" A harsh note of command had entered Krysty's voice.

 

"What is nape?"

 

"Off the back of your neck," Doc said, doing his best to sound kind and reassuring.

 

Maria did as she was told, standing in front of Krysty, looking toward the barn, her body trembling.

 

Krysty brought up the .38, pointing it at the back of the girl's skull.

 

She sighed, then reversed it and brought it down butt first with a dull thud on the back of Maria's neck, sending her sprawling into the dirt, instantly unconscious.

 

Doc tapped the ferrule on his cane on a loose stone. "Well done," he said quietly. "I admit that I had thought you were about to"

 

Krysty smiled grimly. "No, Doc. There's things that Ryan and I are real close about. And there's things where there's a chasm between us."

 

"Won't hold her for long."

 

"We could tie her up." Then she had second thoughts. "No. Do it properly and she'd likely die. Might deserve that but Tie her loose and you might as well leave her free."

 

"Talking's time, Krysty."

 

"You're right. Have to abandon any idea of finding transport. Meet the others as quick as possible and head out of town on the same trail as Ryan."

 

"On foot?"

 

"Have to be. Take what food we got. Going to be a tough hike, Doc."

 

He shrugged. "What will be, will be, my dear. If it's to be done, then it will be as well to get it done quickly. Let us go unite ourselves with the others."

 

 

 

IN LESS THAN THIRTY minutes they were all together, walking fast out on old 82, following the route taken by Ryan and Dean.

 

Jak had been all for going back and quietly strangling Maria, unable to believe that Krysty and Doc had spared her. "Don't you learn anything?" he asked.

 

"Life is precious, Jak," Krysty replied, defending their actions.

 

"Our lives!" he said angrily. "She comes around quick and gets mob after us. Be lot more dead than one girl. Real stupe, Krysty. Real stupe, Doc."

 

By late afternoon the albino teenager was in better spirits, leading the way south and east. He climbed a spur of rock to peer back down the track behind them.

 

"Nobody coming. No posse pursuit. Mebbe hit her hard enough to put on last train to coast."

 

There had been a number of marmots, almost as large as domestic dogs, popping up out of burrows as the five friends strode along, and Jak had managed to kill one with a shrewdly thrown knife. He took out another one when it came sniffing inquisitively to see what was happening.

 

"Least we got meat," he said, skinning the animals as they followed the road.

 

 

 

EVENING CAME SOFTLY, almost unnoticed.

 

One moment they had been walking at a steady rate up a steep section of the trail, with woods close in around them. Only a couple of minutes later, so it seemed, twilight had come and gone and they needed to stop for the night.

 

Jak and J.B. collected plenty of wood for a good fire, setting it blazing as they cooked the butchered meat.

 

"Wonder how far ahead of us the others are?" Krysty said musingly.

 

Jak pointed ahead and a little to the left. "Thought saw pinprick of fire," he said. "Could be them."

 

They all stared into the clinging blackness, but could see nothing.

 

Krysty found it vaguely reassuring to know that they were, at least, on the same stretch of trail.

 

Though she slept restlessly, plagued by anxiety dreams.