James Axler – Trader Redux

“Sure,” the man replied. “Sure. Take a look. But the thing we got. It’s wrapped up. Please don’t You know?”

Jak called up the stairs. “Dean. Come down and have look inside rig. But don’t go in and don’t touch nothing.”

“Anything,” Krysty corrected automatically. She grinned at Jak. “Sorry. Used to that with Ryan.”

“Name’s Ronny Warren,” the man said. “This is my woman, Raelene. Traveling from over White Sands way. Good distance. Found our treasure there. Taking it to find a real triple-powerful baron. Where’s the nearest ville like that?”

Jak shook his head. “Don’t know. One a ways east. Direction you’re heading. But”

“What, mister? Can’t we get in and have a rest and some water, please?”

“Sure.”

Dean appeared on the steps. He walked past the strangers, pulling himself up and unlacing part of the back of the canvas covering, peering in.

“Don’t let him touch our” the woman began, but her eyes rolled white back in their sockets and she slumped unconscious in her husband’s arms.

Krysty and Mildred moved to help, while Jak stayed, watchful, on guard, waiting to hear what Dean reported.

“Nothing in here. Pots and pans. Clothes. And this thing they’re so fired about. Looks around eight feet long. But it’s all tied in rags. Want me to”

“Leave it,” Jak said. “Just leave it and come in.”

The man looked over his shoulder. “Could the boy see to the team? Put the rig into your barn for safety?”

“Sure. I’ll help him.”

“Grateful, folks. Most grateful.”

Jak nodded, his ruby eyes staring intently as Mildred and Krysty half carried Raelene Warren into the house. Though he said nothing, he was looking puzzled.

Doc’s room had a big double bed in it, and the strangers were put there. The woman was moaning, tossing her head from side to side, almost delirious. Mildred fetched some cold fresh water and bathed her forehead, mouth and neck, cooling the fever. Ronny stood helplessly by, watching.

“Get her into bed. Take a rest yourself. Anything we can get you?”

“No, thanks, ma’am. Don’t know your names. Should do so we can say a prayer to the Good Lord for sending us your way.”

“I’m Mildred Wyeth. This is Krysty Wroth. Boy with white hair is Jak Lauren. His spread. Kid is called Dean Cawdor. Son of a friend who’s away for a few days.”

“I thank you. The Lord’ll be certain to reward you for your Christian kindness.”

KRYSTY FOUND MILDRED scrubbing her hands with carbolic soap in the kitchen sink, working at her nails with a stiff-bristled brush.

“What’s wrong? You think they got a bad illness?”

Mildred dried her hands on a small towel. “Don’t know, Krysty. Need to examine them more carefully. But I don’t much like what I’ve seen so far.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was ten minutes off noon, and another of the brilliant, crystal-clear days with an untouched sky from horizon to horizon. Only a light breeze ruffled the sagebrush and swayed the stately tops of the ocotillo. A red-breasted jay was perched snugly in among the murderous spikes of a tall saguaro, only a few yards from the main doors of Hightower ville.

Ryan had moved as close as he dared to the brink of their tottering balcony, peering into the singing abyss at the snaking river far, far below.

“Don’t know why I keep on doing this,” he said to Trader, who was sitting on the broken bed, knotting the laces of his worn combat boots.

“What?”

“Looking over the edge.”

“No hope of getting out there. Unless you stand on the balcony and jump up and down.”

“Then you get all the way, no stopping.”

The older man stood, testing his feet for comfort. “Don’t feel even part-dressed without my blaster and knives. Those bastards!”

“Time’ll come, partner.”

“Sure. But how long? They won’t give us blasters for a while. Even after this dark-nighted wedding.”

“Probably folks’ll find it sort of amusing. When words leaks around Deathlands.”

“Think Krysty’ll laugh in a bright and merry way, Ryan?”

There was no answer. Ryan was flexing his fingers, one hand against the other, just for something to do. The rehearsal for the double marriage ceremony was scheduled to take place at midday, in about five minutes.