“Children of the Rock been around here for almost as long as I can recall. Started real small. Brother Joshua Wolfe came with a couple of shootists. Half a dozen women. Some hunting hounds. Now there must be close on a hundred of them. But that’s only a guess. I haven’t been there myself. Not for years. Fortified ville. Big buildings. They say they got electrics there. Power mill and shock fencing.”
She elaborated a little, saying there was a reasonable mix, with a few more men than women, but hardly any children. There were plenty of weapons and they were always on the lookout for recruits. They were at war with the local ranging band of Apaches, and they were seriously religious.
“They leave me alone and I leave them alone. I just take care not to—” She stopped abruptly, as if she’d gone a few paces farther along the line than she’d intended. “Take care not to upset any of them who pass by.”
Now the meal was nearly done.
In the end they all joined Doc in steaming mugs of coffee subs, served with plenty of cream and a large bowl of unrefined sugar.
“Guess I’ll be closing up soon,” the woman said, leaning on the bar counter. “Light’s most gone. Won’t be any travelers passing through now.”
“You get troubled by mutie rats?” Ryan asked.
She whistled between her gapped teeth. “Do I, outlander! I surely do. Biggest sons of bitches I ever saw. They reckon that it’s one of the results of the old rad hot spots nearby, among the big trees.”
Ryan and J.B. both glanced automatically at the small lapel rad counters they wore, noticing that both were showing somewhere between the orange and yellow. They were some little distance away from the safety of green, but an equal distance from the imminent danger of red.
Mrs. Fairchild carried on, seeming oblivious to their rad counters. “They come for miles after the offcuts from the butchering we do here.”
“Can’t you poison them? Or just chill them with blasters?” the Armorer asked. “I never saw such mean, sickly bastards in all my life.”
“Just keep coming. Think they got some kind of underground nest out in the forest. Wouldn’t want to be the one that stumbled on a place like that.” She shuddered theatrically at the thought. “Anyway, you folk like some more coffee sub?”
Doc, Dean and Jak both raised a hand at the invitation. The others refused the offer.
“You three goin’ to share a room together, tonight?” the woman asked as she poured out the hot, black, bitter liquid from a blue enameled pot.
Dean and Jak nodded. Doc smiled up at the woman. Ryan watched and realized that the old man was entertaining lecherous thoughts. Mrs. Fairchild looked like she could have eaten up Doc for supper and spit out the bones. But there was no accounting for taste.
“I’ve put you three into the end cabin. Kind of a few steps away from the main building, toward the stream. But there’s plenty of bedding. You’ll be snug as bugs in rugs. Now drink up, there’s good boys.”
Doc sneezed and coughed at the same time, spluttering coffee onto the table. “I am so sorry, my dear Madam Fairchild,” he said, wheezing.
“Think nothing of it. Listen up, strangers. Make sure you keep the doors bolted tonight. Windows got armored shutters and locks. Keep them secure. This is a dangerous part of the country, what with the Apaches and all. Also been some trouble with stickies, within the last six months. Plucked folks out of their sleeping beds with their evil suckered fingers and slobbery mouths. Never a trace of them seen again.”
“We’ve gotten used to looking after ourselves.” Ryan stood and stretched. “But we surely thank you for the warning. Old friend of mine used to say that an ounce of warning was worth a ton of regret.”
“Ready for bed,” Doc said, wiping his nose with the blue kerchief.
“Take one of the lamps from the table there. You’ll find candles set ready by the beds. Plenty of blankets. Extra ones in the closet. Got your own John and washing facilities just off the bedroom. Won’t be too much hot water. Plenty of cold. Comes straight from the stream out back.”