“No.” Ryan shook his head again. “The signs are that they left in good order. Mebbe because of the rad sickness. But I know” He punched his fist into his other hand. “I know that Krysty would’ve left me a note.”
“Where?” Trader asked.
“Table inside, but there isn’t one there. By the front door or the back door. Checked them both and there’s nothing. Doc and Sukie would’ve spotted them easily. There was enough light for it back then.”
They all sat in silence. Trader walked into the house, and they beard his heels clicking on the oilcloth of the hall. He opened the front door, and there was a stillness. Then the door closed and he came back again. Taking the lamp, be held it close to the kitchen door, running his fingers over the scarred wood. The only person who showed any particular interest in what he was doing was Sukie Smith.
“The poor wretch in the bedroom could not tell us anything of what happened?” Doc asked.
Abe laughed. “That stupe bastard only got one thing to say and that’s ‘Goodbye,’ ain’t it?”
Trader turned back and replaced the lamp, moving to stand in front of Doc and the woman. “Which one of you came around to the rear of the house?” he asked with a gentle quietness.
Ryan sensed the implicit threat and started to stand, hand going to the butt of the SIG-Sauer.
“I did,” Sukie replied, her voice shaking like an aspen in a hurricane. “And there was no note.”
Trader slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to her knees in the dirt. “You’re a fuckin’ lyin’ bitch! “he yelled.
Chapter Two
Doc Tanner wasn’t essentially a man of violent and furious action. But be was up and across the porch and had swung a good solid haymaker at Trader’s jaw before anyone could try to stop him.
Trader parried it without much difficulty, though he was taken aback at the speed of the old man’s response. “Just hold off,” he grunted.
“You damned dog!”
“What was that for, Trader?” Abe asked.
Neither Ryan nor J.B. had moved. They’d ridden enough miles with Trader to know that he wasn’t a man to do something like that without having a good reasonor at least thinking that he had a good reason.
Doc stood in front of Trader, his fists clenched, eyes wide with anger. “You dare to strike down a defenseless woman like that?”
“I’m all right,” Sukie muttered. She was on her hands and knees, head down, a line of blood, black in the lamplight, trickling from either her nose or her mouth.
Doc was blind with anger. He looked around and saw his ebony sword stick lying by the bench seat. He snatched it up, twisted the silver lion’s-head hilt and withdrew the slender rapier. “I’ll cut your damned throat open,” he snarled.
Trader held the Armalite in his left hand, offering no threat with it. “Back off, Doc.”
“Back off! How dare you?”
“Just let me ask the woman a question. One question. If she gives me the truth straight off, then we’ll all know just what has been going on around here.” He paused. “And if she lies again, then I’ll keep beating her until she decides to show some sense.”
Doc took a shuffling step closer to Trader, the point of the sword weaving like the tongue of a snake. “And you consider that enough explanation, do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Ryan?” Doc turned to his friends. “You go to the ends of the earth to bring back this this person and stand by as he insults my friend.”
“Let him ask the question, Doc,” Ryan said. “Then we’ll all know what’s happening.”
Sukie had struggled into a fetal crouch. “Give me a hand up, Doc?”
He offered his left hand and pulled her upright, brushing dirt from her back and shoulders. He looked at the blood that came from a cut at the corner of her mouth. “Are you all right after that brutish attack?”
“Been better, Doc. Then again, I guess I also been a lot worse.”
“What’s this important question, Trader?” J.B. stared at his former leader. “You sure already?”
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