Devils Unto Dust(7)
Then something changed, and people stopped talking, or if they did it was in hushed voices. I remember the fear in the air, and not knowing the reason. It hit Silver first, a mining town to the east. The docs thought it was hydrophobia, and that was bad enough; then they realized it was spreading too fast and people were taking sick too quick. So they said it must be something the miners dug up in the dirt, or caught from the red bats hunting at night, but even I knew they were just guessing by then. They started calling it the Silver sickness, and everyone shook their heads for the poor city folk. But didn’t those people go putting on airs, thinking themselves better than the rest of us? Then the animals started dying, the cattle and the horses, and dogs stopped coming home at night. When it hit Hide Town and then Best, the fences went up and folks stopped calling it the Silver sickness. It didn’t need a name anymore; Silver was gone, and the sickness was everywhere.
The fences kept the shakes out, but they couldn’t keep folks in. And people still needed to go from town to town, especially when there’s nothing out here to grow. Lots of folks died those early years, trying to get supplies through the desert. I reckon people even thought the Judge was a godsend, the way he came in and set up the stations. And at first his hunters seemed like a fine idea, to protect folks on the road. But the prices got higher, and the hunters got rougher, and the Judge started charging just to live in our own homes. By then it was too late. The Judge controls the hunters and the hunters control our movements, and I’m broke and half-starving with no way to get out.
I pass Old Bess’s place and it snaps me out of a past that won’t do me any good to linger over. Her front porch is cluttered with a rocking chair, clay pots, an ill-shaped bench, and an empty barrel with dirty cups on top. Bess has been ancient for as long as I can remember, and most nights she just sits in her rocking chair, drinking cup after cup of coffee and staring out at the desert. She’s a strange old bird, but a tough one, and the only person the twins seem to listen to. My mother used to take us over to visit, and the inside of Bess’s house is even worse than the outside, filled with all manner of odd knickknacks. Ma once tried to tidy up the place, but Old Bess just yelled at her and waved her cane around until she knocked the broom out of Ma’s hands. I feel guilty as I walk by, and I lie to myself, promising to visit soon.
A volley of gunshots echoes up ahead, I reckon somewhere close to the gate. This early, that’ll be the guards warning shakes away from the fence. I barely flinch at the sound of the blasts, that’s how used to them I am—Glory’s twisted version of a rooster’s crow.
Doctor Kincaid lives with his son in the next house, which is in far better shape than the others. He could afford to live closer to town, but I think he likes the quiet. He’s been the only doctor in town for some time now, and he delivered all my siblings and me. I don’t know why he still lives in Glory, but I’m grateful he does. The door opens as I walk by and Samuel waves to me from the porch.
“Hi, Willie,” he says with a small smile. The doctor’s son looks just like him, round glasses, slightly hunched shoulders, and hair that refuses to lay flat.
“Hi, Sam. Your pa’s out?” It’s more of a statement than a question; Doc Kincaid is always needed somewhere.
Sam nods. I wonder if he gets lonely in that big house all by himself. His mother ran off years ago, lost to the safety and the comfort of the north, or maybe it was the west.
“I thought I might stop by today,” Sam says hesitantly, and I try not to sigh at him. Sam comes over so often he’s practically another brother, yet for some reason he still feels the need to ask permission. He’s nearer in age to me, but he and Micah have always been close. Sam’s a bit more outspoken, but they’re both the shy, bookish sort, and particularly awkward around girls.
“Go on ahead,” I tell him. “I’m sure Micah will be glad of the company. It’s been a hard morning.”
“Twins at it again?” Sam grins at me, looking so much younger than I feel. I open my mouth to explain, but if I start to talk about it, I’ll only feel more helpless. Suddenly I’m tired, and I need to keep moving.
“They’ll tell you about it. I have to go,” I say quickly. “I’ll see you later, Sam.”
He says good-bye to my back as I walk away, and I raise a hand without turning. I focus on the road, watching my boots slowly coat with another layer of dust. The houses get closer together and then give way to shops the nearer I get to town. What used to be Jensen’s Candy Store is now a hollowed-out square building with a faded sign. Along the side of the building is a row of small glass windows, most of them cracked or broken, with shards of glass clinging to the edges. Every once in a while, when the twins get too rowdy to be contained, Micah and I bring them out here to throw rocks at the windows. Their aim is decent; they’ll be good with rifles, I think.
Only one wall of the church remains standing, with empty spaces where the glass used to be. The ground is scattered with split pieces of wood and fractured bricks, and the rest is just sand and brush. Every year more of the wall chips away, until at last we won’t even have the sad reminder of what used to be. Ma told me when times get hard, people either turn to god or against him. People in Glory turned their backs on god years ago and haven’t looked back since. We got no use for a god in these parts; we’re already damned.
I breathe out sharply and kick up a cloud of dirt, mad at the world. I don’t need to pay attention to where I’m going; I’ve taken this walk more times than I care to remember. My feet do the work for me, following the road as it forks and taking the path to the right. I thought the walk would settle me some, but the closer I get to town, the angrier I get. I keep picturing McAllister making this same trek back, only I’ll bet he did it with a smug smile on his face. It won’t do to get this worked up before I even step foot near the hunters, so I start to hum to distract myself, then sing in a low voice.