Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

12

Ethan Langer woke with a start, a scream sounding in his ears. It wasn’t his own scream, for as he looked around the camp, no one was stirring or paying him any mind. He laid back down on his back and waited for his breathing to slow. It was that woman again, only hearing the scream was odd, because he recalled that when he’d run her down she hadn’t made a sound.

Or had she?

Was he recalling her scream only in his dream?

No, he was sure she hadn’t screamed at the time. The look on her face had been one of pure shock. She hadn’t even had time to scream before she was trampled beneath his horse’s hooves, and then those of the horses behind him.

Ethan wasn’t sure why he kept dreaming about her. She was the first woman he’d ever killed, maybe that was it, but killing had never bothered him before. Why now? She hadn’t been real young, but she had been pretty. He’d noticed her even before they hit the bank. She’d been across the street in the dress shop, but then he lost sight of her when they went into the bank. The next time he saw her, he was riding her down.

Someone stirred. He looked over and saw Petry at the fire, making a pot of coffee. He needed to get up and move around. He wished Aaron was there, but they were days, maybe weeks, from meeting up with his older brother. Besides, what could Aaron tell him? He’d probably make fun of him for dreaming about a woman he’d killed. Aaron had killed lots of people and, so far as he knew, not one of them haunted his dreams.

No, he couldn’t tell Aaron about this, or anyone else for that matter. This was something he was going to have to deal with himself.

“Coffee’s almost ready,” Petry said to him when he approached the fire.

“Good.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Fine,” Ethan said. “Why would you ask me that?”

Petry shrugged and said, “I’m just makin’ conversation.”

“Well, talk about somethin’ else.”

“You think we got a posse after us from Epitaph?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Ethan asked. “We robbed a bank. Don’t they always send a posse after us when we do that? They won’t cross into the territories, though. They got no jurisdiction.”

“What about that woman we killed?”

“What about her?” Ethan snapped.

“Won’t they cross the border ’cause of her?”

“Even if they do, they got no authority,” Ethan said. “And if they catch up with us, we’ll do what we always do.”

“Take care of ’em?”

“That’s right,” Ethan said. “We’ll take care of ’em.”

Petry poured out a cup of coffee and handed it to his boss, who took it without thanks.

“I was just thinkin’ about Epitaph—” he began, but Ethan cut him off.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you talk about nothin’ else?”

His voice was so loud he woke the rest of the camp. The men sat up or rolled out of their bedrolls and looked around to see what all the ruckus was about.

“It’s time for all you sonsofbitches to get up!” Ethan shouted. “We got to get a move on.”

“What about breakfast?” somebody asked.

“Fuck breakfast,” Ethan said. “Have some coffee and get your damn horses saddled.”

He stalked away from the fire with his coffee.

Red Hackett walked to the fire and took a cup of coffee from Terry Petry.

“What’s eatin’ him?” he asked, nodding toward Ethan.

“I don’t know,” Petry said. “He’s been actin’ real peculiar since we left Epitaph.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Hackett said. “He ain’t been sleepin’ real good and he’s real short-tempered.”

“How can you tell?” Nick Taylor asked, coming up behind them. “He’s always short-tempered, far as I can see.”

“You ain’t rode with him as long as we have,” Petry said. “This is different.”

“Well,” Taylor said, “he killed that woman.”

“We all killed her,” Petry said. “We rode her down.”

“Stupid bitch got in the way,” Hackett said.

“Yeah, but Ethan’s horse was the first one to ride over her,” Taylor said. “He killed her. He ever killed a woman before?”

Petry and Hackett exchanged a glance.

“Can’t say I know,” Hackett replied.

“Naw, that can’t be it,” Petry said. “Ethan’s killed lots of people. Him and Aaron have killed more people than the rest of us put together.”

“Yeah,” Taylor said, reaching for some coffee, “but has he ever killed a woman? Makes a difference to some men.”

Maybe, Terry Petry thought, but did it make a difference to Ethan Langer?