The Bridge

64

“Eddie,” Virgil said, tossing Eddie his knife, “cut some lines off that tent. Tie up that big boy under Chastain’s boot first. Tie him up good.”

Eddie nodded and did as he was told. He cut the tent ropes, then moved to the man under Chastain’s boot.

“Hands behind your back,” Chastain said.

The man did as he was ordered.

“Snug ’em tight to his feet, Eddie,” Chastain said.

Eddie did just that. He tied the fella’s hands behind his back, then looped the rope around his feet, and with a half-hitch jerk he pulled the man into an uncomfortable backward arch.

“Gag him,” Chastain said.

Eddied nodded and crammed his handkerchief into the man’s gaping mouth.

From a ways down the dirt path of shacks and tents that lined the creek we heard some music start up, a fiddle and a guitar. They were working on some dancing tune.

“Dmitry,” Virgil said. “The more you tell me, the better off things will be for you when we take you in, that is if we take you in. If things go a way we might not appreciate, there’s a good chance you will burn and die here tonight.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Dee said, struggling to speak.

“The less you tell me of what you know, Dmitry,” Virgil said, “the worse things will be for you.”

“Wha... what do you want to know?” Dmitry said.

“First thing I want to know is where are your horses?”

“Corral down at the end here,” Dmitry said.

“All seven of you here?”

Dmitry nodded.

“Where are the other four?”

Dmitry nodded up the path.

“Whore shack,” he said.

Out of the darkness came the three men we saw chopping wood. The woodchopper was a big man and he had the ax in his hand. The two men following him were kind of pint-sized. They both were holding beer mugs.

“What the hell?” the woodchopper said.

Chastain and Eddie trained their guns on the men.

“Don’t move,” Chastain said. “Stay right where you are.”

The men raised their hands up away from their bodies.

“They with you?” Virgil said to Dmitry.

“They are not,” he said.

“We’re law,” Virgil said. “Just stay where you are.”

They did as they were told.

“You damn sure,” Virgil said to Dmitry, “they’re not part of your kettle?”

“They’re not,” he said.

“You lie to me,” Virgil said, “and if shit goes down, you will be the first to die.”

“They’re not,” Dmitry said.

Virgil looked to Dmitry for a bit, then looked to the men.

“You fellas,” Virgil said. “Like I say, we’re law. We’ve located these critters here and we’re sorting them out for the lawbreaking they’ve done. You can be part of this or you can go back down on the other end and keep out of this. The choice is yours.”

The three of them started backing up.

“We got no dealing with nothing that the law needs to be part of, mister,” the woodchopper said, “No dealing.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “I see you or anyone else come down the road this way, they will become part of something they’d be better off not being part of, comprende?”

The men nodded and started backing away.

“One thing,” Virgil said to the men.

“Yes, sir,” the woodchopper said.

“How many people are here?” Virgil said. “In this camp?”

“There’s us down here,” the woodchopper said. “Six of us, we’re all from Missouri. Be on our way to California when the weather clears. And down there, on the other end, there’s them fellas there, them seven, and there’s five other fellas, regulars that are here all the time.”

“Whores?” Virgil said.

“Three,” the woodchopper said. “Indians.”

Virgil nodded.

“Go on back,” Virgil said to the men. “Go on back or get yourself into some shit you don’t want no part of. Go on.”

The three backed on down the road and disappeared into the darkness they came from.

“Who’s behind all this?” Virgil said to Dmitry.

“Goddamn you,” Dee said.

I pressed my eight-gauge on Dee’s bloody mouth.

“Behind what?”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Virgil said.

“I’m not,” Dmitry said.