Brimstone

60

IT WAS LIKE A SUMMER STORM approaching. The atmosphere tightened; I could feel the tension crackling. There was no thunder yet, or lightning, but I could feel it lurking. I knew it was coming. So did everyone else. There were more men with guns standing around. There were fewer people on the streets. The people who were on the streets walked faster. The dogs seemed to slink a little. The horses seemed edgy. Everyone seemed somehow wound a little tighter. Except Virgil. As always, he remained entirely Virgil Cole, regardless of what was going on around him.

“Gonna be one hell a deluge,” I said, as we walked in the evening back to Allie’s house.

“Deluge?” Virgil said. “Like rain?”

“Just thinking out loud,” I said.

Virgil shook his head.

“You’re kinda strange sometimes, Everett,” Virgil said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

Pony was sitting in a rocker on Allie’s front porch with a Winchester in his lap. Laurel sat on a straight chair next to him.

“Where’s Allie?” Virgil said.

“Cook supper,” Pony said.

“Uh-oh,” Virgil said.

Pony shrugged.

“We’ll be here for a while,” I said to Pony, “you want to go up to Pike’s or whatever.”

“Good,” Pony said. “Maybe eat.”

I grinned.

“Better hurry,” I said. “I think she’s coming.”

Pony stood and leaned the Winchester against the doorjamb.

“Watch the rifle for me,” he said.

Virgil nodded.

“Don’t go too far,” Virgil said.

Pony nodded and walked off toward Arrow Street. Virgil sat next to Laurel.

“You know something?” I said to Virgil.

“Just a feeling,” Virgil said. “Air’s kinda tight.”

I didn’t say anything. Allie came out in an apron. It wasn’t much of an apron, as far as keeping gravy off your dress. But it was cute-looking, and she looked cute in it.

“Supper’s ready,” she said.

She was making progress. The food wasn’t good. But nothing was burned, and we ate as much of it as we could so as not to hurt her feelings. We were back on the porch letting it digest when Pony came silently out of the darkness. Virgil had heard him, I could tell, because he had shifted forward slightly in his chair to clear his gun hand.

“Percival,” he said. “At Pike’s. All lined up. Singing church music.”

“Sounds like it’s gonna start,” I said.

Virgil nodded. He looked at Pony and jerked his head at the women. Pony nodded and picked up his Winchester and sat down beside Laurel. Virgil stood and went into the house. In a moment he came out with another Colt. One with a shorter barrel. A banker’s gun. He gave it to Allie.

“Showed you how to shoot,” Virgil said. “You need to, shoot.”

Allie didn’t say anything. But she nodded and took the gun. Virgil picked up his Winchester. I picked up the eight-gauge.

Virgil looked at the women.

“Be back soon,” he said.

They both nodded. And we started up toward Arrow Street.