The last of the General’s war wags stood by the double doors that were the only exit from the section.
At around a hundred feet from side to side, it was too wide for Ryan and the others to cross it in safety or for the General to send any of his forces out after them.
From the passage beyond the garage, Ryan and the others could hear shouting and men running. A couple, of times there were shots fired in their general direction, but everyone was well under cover and the futile exercise wasn’t repeated.
“Could take the tires out on the wag with the Steyr,” J.B. suggested.
“All goes well and that’s our way out of here,” Ryan said. “Things go wrong we can stop it.”
Krysty had crawled alongside him, with Doc and Mildred sandwiched between her and the Armorer. Jak had volunteered to go back a short distance and guard their rear. Though the evidence was that the General’s forces hadn’t infiltrated into the tourist side of the caves, it wasn’t worth taking any chance.
“Lover?”
“What?”
“The Navaho?”
He sighed. “Told you. There really wasn’t anything that looked like a way out of it.”
“It was cold-blooded murder, Ryan.”
“That what you want to think?”
“No. I don’t want to think that at all.”
“So?”
They were lying within three feet of each other, but they were separated by an enormous cold gulf.
“You weren’t surprised.”
He half turned, keeping part of his attention focused on the far side of the cavernous room. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I think you do. I think you were razor-ready for Sleeps In Day to make that play.”
“He tried to gut me!”
Now everyone was listening to their argument, as both of them raised their voices.
“And you chilled him. Then you guessed the others would try to avenge him, and you were ready for that and you chilled them, too. You, John and Jak.”
Ryan shook his head. “You know none of that’s true. None of it.”
But he knew that it was all true.
Once Two Dogs Fighting and Thomas Firemaker had flippedhe hadn’t really expected that to happenthen Ryan had seen the path that would be followed, saw how his own anger provoked the Navaho leader to attack him, an attack he was tensed to repel. And after that he had also seen the strong likelihood that the other Native Americans would try to chill the Anglos.
He’d even had the confidence to be sure that J.B. and, he thought, Jak, would be honed and ready to come immediately to his assistance.
“Liar,” Krysty said very quietly.
“How can you know that, Krysty?”
“I can feel it. Smell it on you. Taste it in your words. I’m not saying you planned it all like that. It’s not the way you go about things, Ryan. But your mind was so far ahead of everyone else that it turned out easy as putting a .38 through a blind man’s eye.”
“Trader said a man who wasn’t ready for living was ready for death,” J.B. said. “You can’t condemn Ryan for what he did, Krysty. Anything elseany other fall of the cardsand we could all be dead meat by now.”
There was a long stillness while the six friends considered the situation and what had been said.
Doc broke the silence. “Someone once remarked that it was the biggest treason to do the correct thing for the wrong reason. Though I think that it might have been put with a little more elegance than that.”
“What are you saying?” Mildred turned her head toward the old man, her beaded plaits tinkling softly. “You saying Ryan did right or wrong?”
“I am merely noting that all truth is perceived. As a consequence, all truth is fallible.”
“Cut the Delphic Oracle crap, Doc, and climb down off the fucking fence. Right or wrong?”
“Both. Both and neither. The means of this are that six good men lie dead back there, at our hands. The end result is that we are all still alive where we might not have been. Thus, I fear that the end probably did justify those means. But that does not make me like it any the more or feel specially proud to be a party to it. Like so many things in this sorry vale of tears, it has turned out to be more than somewhat inconclusive. Does that answer your question, Dr. Wyeth?”
She didn’t reply.
But the ethical discussion was brought to an abrupt halt by the hissing, booming sound of a powerful loud-hailer.
“Best we talk,” the magnified voice said.
Ryan looked around him, lifting a finger to his lips to ensure silence.
“I am the General. That is what I am called by my people and by the poor of this region. I do not know who you are out there, or how many there are of you.”
There was still no answer. Ryan considered trying to make it across the space to the cover of the wag. If the hatch was open, then it might be possible to get in and use it against the General. But it was a long shot.
“My work party has not reported back yet. I wonder why that is. And my other wag? My heart is filled with sadness and my spirits are low.”
The voice was educated and gave little clue to the origins of the speaker. But Ryan felt he could just detect the faintest hint of a Mexican accent. Almost concealed, but still there.
“You want to talk or fight, General?” Ryan called on an impulse.
“Talk first. A gentleman will always talk first. Under a flag of truce, perhaps.”
“Don’t do it, lover,” Krysty warned. “Strong bad feeling on this.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Judas paused from nibbling the stubby grass that lay in the hollow where he and the other animals had been tethered. His Satanic head came up, and he sniffed at the cool air. There was rain on the way, moving from the far dark horizon. But there was something else. The bloodshot eyes rolled in their sockets as the mule considered what it was scenting.
A few yards away Dean stirred in his sleep. The sudden movement of the mule penetrated into his rest, but not quite enough to bring him fully awake.
Three hundred yards away, picking a silent path along the abandoned highway, were two young men, swarthy, with long mustaches, dressed entirely in midnight black, with a single crimson slash along each leg. Each held a greased Kalashnikov assault rifle at the ready.
As soon as the General realized that the caverns had been infiltrated from the far sidesomething he had always considered impossiblehe had ordered the two men out on a recce, from the rear exit, scouting up toward the rectangular shape of the Visitors’ Center on the hillside.
They were to find what they could up there, and chill anyone they came across.
They were about two hundred and fifty yards from Dean Cawdor. The sleeping boy was still invisible to them, in a shallow hollow, though they’d already heard the snickering of the restless horses.
Judas swung his head from side to side, disturbing a swarm of small gnats that had been feasting on the salt sweat that coated his skin.
Something was wrong.
THE SUGGESTION of a truce talk had surprised Ryan. He’d called back for them to have a few minutes to consider the offer.
Ryan had beckoned them all to join him, speaking first to Doc. “Go and tell Jak what’s happening. Warn him to keep extra watch. Could be a way between their section of the caverns and ours. Then come straight back.”
“Your wish is my command, Excellency,” Doc replied, knuckling his forehead. “I shall spin a loop around the globe and be back at ten to three to find if there is honey still for tea.”
“Just go, Doc.”
The four companions sat still and quiet, listening to the resonant click of the old man’s boot heels, diminishing in the distance.
“What do you reckon?” Ryan asked, looking at J.B., Krysty and Mildred.
“No,” Krysty replied immediately. “I vote we get out the way we came. Pick up the horses and head north. Decide at Jak’s what we’ll do then. Make a jump. Move on. There’s been too much death, Ryan.”
“Sounds good to me.” Mildred looked at J.B. “What do you reckon, John? Fight or run?”
The Armorer slowly unhooked his wire-rimmed glasses, holding them toward the overhead light, angling the lenses and then wiping away a tiny smear. “Nobody ever told me to take my blaster and run. Nobody tells me that now. I say we listen to what the General has to say. He’s backed into a corner. Lost half his forces and one of his wags. I figure he’ll want us to pay a price for that. One way or another.”
“Jak needs his price paying.” Ryan looked around as he caught the sound of Doc returning. “Have to ask him what he thinks we should do.”