Mr. Shivers

CHAPTER TEN

The next morning the wind died and though the dust still hung in the air they ventured out. They walked about through the town but they could not see anyone through the clay haze. None of them went to the house the scarred man had stayed in, nor did anyone suggest doing so.

They buried Ernie twenty paces from the dried river beneath the oak. They wrapped him in one of the blankets and covered him with layers of stone and earth and Jake tried to say something but could not. Pike stood at the head of the grave and said, “Lord, we lay this man to rest, fallen in the road that You have set for him that leads to glory. And in his trials and efforts to follow this road surely he has moved on to better worlds than these. His death was cruel but his life was righteous and we shall remember him as one of Your warriors. His memory shall stir us forward on the path and so he shall live forever as we try to achieve Your works. Amen.”

“Amen,” said Roonie.

The others muttered their own thanks. Jake stared at the rocks and did not move for the better part of an hour, even when called.

They walked farther into the hills in the direction the scarred man had gone. They were starving for meat as they had eaten nothing but a shared handful of beans and cornmeal in the past days. Roosevelt took his gun and found a nest of rabbits and tried to shoot some. He missed several times, stirring them up.

Lottie said, “Here. Let me see it.”

He looked at her doubtfully.

“Let me see it. I’ve shot before,” she said.

“So have I.”

“Let me see it, Roosevelt.”

He gave it to her. She took it and they sat for a while, watching, and then she picked up the gun and aimed carefully. They could not see what she was pointing it at. Without warning she fired, surprising everyone but Lottie, and she got to her feet and walked into the brush. There they found a mewling coney, bullet drilled into its side. She approached it, uncertain, and Pike strode forward and took it and broke its neck.

“That was well done,” he said.

“I should have killed it in one shot.”

“It’s killed, either way,” he said.

They cooked it and one other she managed to get and ate them with wild spring onions. They camped underneath the runny red sky and when they woke Pike said, “We have a decision to make. We’ve lost him. We’ve lost the scarred man. But we know the direction he was going and we know he could not be going far. Who knows this area?”

“I know a little,” said Roonie.

“What would you say?”

“About what.”

“About where he’s gone, of course.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Could be a ways, could be a lot of places. Nearest town is some fourteen miles, I’d say.”

“He’d want to move fast,” said Connelly.

“And why’s that?” Pike asked.

“He knows we’re on to him now. He knows how close we are.”

“So?”

“He likes to ride the rails. Where’s the nearest freightyard, Roonie?”

“Ferguson,” he said. “Straight north of here. Lots of cattle cars through there.”

“Then that’s where he’ll be,” said Connelly. “Dollars to pesos.”

They nodded. “I see sense in that,” Hammond said.

“We’re agreed?” said Pike. “We keep together and keep moving, make for Ferguson?”

“It’s our best shot,” said Monk.

Jake frowned and rubbed his hair. “I don’t like it.”

“Why not?” said Lottie.

“Just don’t. I don’t… I don’t…” He sniffed and looked over his shoulder to where his brother’s grave was.

“We have to move,” said Pike.

Jake shook his head.

“We’ve eaten,” said Pike. “We’ll search the town for what we can carry and what we need. Probably not going to be much, it was stripped clean. At first light we’ll try and close some of this distance.”

“Fair enough,” Roosevelt said.

* * *

Connelly awoke to the pale dawn the next day. Just barely morning. Somewhere birds wheeled through the cold skies, whistling mournfully to one another. He sat up and looked and saw Jake’s bedding deserted. He reached out and prodded Hammond.

Hammond rubbed at his eyes. “What?” he asked.

Connelly nodded at Jake’s empty place. Hammond sat up. The two of them stood, looked at each other, then began searching the nearby area.

Somehow Connelly knew where he would be. He went down to where the dry creek ran and began walking along its side. He spotted him sitting on a large red rock, his form hunched and drunkenly leaning. Connelly approached slowly.

It had not been done neatly. The thin slice of obsidian had been a good tool but Jake had not known where the arteries would be and so had ravaged his upper arms and wrists. His lap was red and a pool spread from his crotch and ran down the face of the rock like he had shat or urinated blood. He was cross-legged and his arms were up against his belly like he was carrying some tiny precious package, like a child.

He was facing east. He had wanted to see the dawn. Perhaps he had.

They stood looking at Jake. No one spoke. Roonie began sobbing, small, weak animal noises. Lottie took him and held him and he buried his face in her neck.

“Despair is the greatest sin,” said Pike.

“Go to hell,” said Monk. “He had just lost his brother.”

“All the more reason not to give up.”

“What do we do?” said Roosevelt.

“Burial will have to be quick,” said Pike. “If we give him one.”

“We will,” Lottie said savagely.

“Then we will.”

“We should bury him with his brother.”

“If you want to carry him the mile back to that place then by all means, do so,” said Pike. “But we’re limited by time and by distance. If we’re going to do this it’ll have to be quick and close.”

It was a shoddy job. Not much more than a shallow hole in the ground. They piled stones upon it until it was a malformed cairn and made a cross out of timber and hammered it into the ground.

“Do we say anything?” said Roonie.

“What is there to say?” asked Hammond.

They did not answer. They took off their caps and held them before them and bowed their heads. Then they shouldered their grips and began their way to the freightyard.