The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(13)



What’s the most scared you ever were.

I was scared all the time.

The most.

I think the most worthless feeling was when you were being shot at by something really bad. In the air that would be SAMs. You took one of those your only hope was reincarnation.

Did you get fired on by them? SAMs. Missiles. Right?

Yeah. They came at you in pairs. The captain jerked the ship over and we went down damn near into the canopy. That’s it.

What else.

Jesus.

What else.

We had a 106 recoilless rifle home in on our base. We figured the thing was about two miles out. After the first round hit we just started running. Complete evacuation. Even the FNGs knew what that fucking thing was. That’s it.

What do you regret? Can I ask you that?

Regret.

Yes.

All of it.

How about some of it.

All right. The elephants.

The elephants?

Yeah. The fucking elephants.

I dont understand.

Where we flew out of Quang Nam we’d see these elephants in the clearings and the bulls would back off and raise their trunks and challenge us. Think about that. That’s pretty fucking bold. They didnt know what we were. But they were taking care of the old lady. The kids. And here we come along in this gunship armed with these 2.75 rockets. You couldnt fire them too close because the rocket had to travel a certain distance in order to arm itself. To arm the warhead. They werent even all that accurate. Sometimes the fins wouldnt open right and they’d go wobbling off like a goddamned balloon. They could go anywhere. So maybe we thought what the fuck. They’ve got a chance. But we never missed. And it would just blow them up. They’d just fucking explode. I think about that, man. They hadnt done anything. And who were they going to see about it? So that’s what I think about. That’s what I regret. All right?



* * *





He didnt know that he’d be asked so quickly. He walked back through the Quarter. Past Jackson Square. The Cabildo. The rich moss and cellar smell of the city thick on the night air. A cold and skullcolored moon driving through the skeins of cloud beyond the roofslates. The tiles and chimneypots. A ship’s horn on the river. The streetlamps stood in globes of vapor and the buildings were dark and sweating. At times the city seemed older than Nineveh. He crossed the street and turned up past the Blacksmith Shop. He unlocked the gate and entered the patio.

There were two men standing outside his door. He stopped. If they could get inside the gate they could get inside his apartment. Then he realized that they had been inside his apartment.

Mr Western?

Yes.

I wonder if we could have a word with you?

Who are you?

They reached into their coat pockets and produced leather fobs with badges and put them away again. Maybe we could go in and talk for a minute.

Vault the gate. Run away.

Mr Western?

Sure. Okay.

He put the key in the lock and turned the deadbolt and pushed open the door and turned on the light. The apartment was a single room with a small kitchen and a bath. The bed folded up into the wall but he always left it down. There was a sofa and an orange rug and a coffeetable piled with books. He held the door for them.

You didnt let my cat out did you?

Sir?

Come in.

They entered with a studied deference. He shut the door and then knelt and looked under the bed. The cat was crouched against the wall. It whined softly.

You hang on, Billy Ray. We’ll eat in a minute.

He rose and gestured toward the sofa. Have a seat, he said.

I have to say that you dont seem particularly surprised to see us.

Should I be?

It’s just an observation.

Of course. Would you like some tea?

No thank you.

Sit down. Let me just put the kettle on.

He went into the kitchen and lit the gas burner and filled the kettle from the tap and set it on the burner. When he came back they were sitting on the sofa one at either end. He sat on the bed and took off his shoes and dropped them over the side and pulled his legs up under him and sat looking at them.

Mr Western we’d like to ask you about the dive you were on this morning.

Go ahead.

Just a few questions.

Sure.

The other man leaned forward and put his hands on the edge of the coffeetable, one folded over the other. He patted the lower with the upper a few times and looked up. Actually we dont have a lot of questions. Just one pretty goodsized one.

All right.

There seems to be a passenger missing.

A passenger.

Yes.

Missing.

Yes.

They watched him. He’d no idea what they wanted. Do you have any identification? he said.

We showed you our identification.

Maybe I could see them again.

They looked at each other and then leaned and produced the badges and held them out.

You can write down the numbers if you like.

That’s okay.

You can write them down. We dont mind.

I dont have to write them down.

They werent sure what he meant. They flipped the badges up and folded them away.

Mr Western?

Yes.

How many passengers were in the aircraft?

Seven.

Seven.

Yes.

You mean plus the pilot and copilot.

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