Devils Unto Dust(82)

“Absolutely not.”

“Do you have another suggestion?” Curtis has his reasonable voice on, and I can tell Ben and Sam put him in charge of the talking.

Ben unrolls the litter they want me to ride in. “It’s—it’s humiliating. I don’t want to be carried like some wounded animal.”

“You are a wounded animal,” Ben says under his breath.

“You’re not helping,” Sam tells him.

“Not trying to,” Ben counters. I narrow my eyes at both of them, but they don’t scare easy.

“Look, Will, stop being difficult,” Sam says. “You can’t make it back to Glory on foot; how else are we supposed to move you?”

I weigh my options, and they don’t look promising. My legs are trembling and there’s a fine sheen of sweat covering my face and arms. I suppose I could insist they let me sit here until I die, but that doesn’t seem likely.

“If any of you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll—I’ll—” I can’t think of a good-enough threat. “I’ll do something horrible to you. Something permanent.”

“Agreed,” Curtis says. “Now get in.”

The litter is fashioned out of an old saddle blanket and some rope. It’s rough and it smells like horse, and I protest one last time purely for pride’s sake. Then I climb onto the scratchy blanket gratefully, and with a grunt I’m lifted up, Ben taking the front while Sam helps Curtis on account of his arm. It’s a strange sensation, to be lying down and carried; I feel like I’m floating over the desert. At first I try to keep scanning the ground, but it’s too difficult to keep turning my head from side to side. I let myself lie back and just stare at the pale sky. The moon is still visible, just a thin splinter so light it looks transparent. The sun is starting to burn off the grayness of the early morning, a promise of a beautiful day.

I feel safer in the litter, which I know is silly; if anything happens, I’m at a disadvantage. Still, being wrapped in a blanket is always comforting, especially one carried by well-armed hunters. I start to relax, lulled by the movement, and close my eyes.

“You always this sweaty?” Ben rudely interrupts my reverie.

My eyes fly open to find him staring at my face. He’s trimmed his beard recently, I guess at the station.

“I’m ill,” I tell him. “And I have hunters chasing me. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m carrying an ill person. Who’s being chased by hunters.”

I grin ruefully, because there’s nothing I can say to that. I study the leather guard at his throat; it looks sturdy and well made. I wonder if I could make one out of snakeskin. There has to be some way for me to bring in more money. Under the sadness and the shame, the reality of losing Micah is starting to sink in. My brother is really gone, along with everything that entails. Who’s going to keep me truthful now? Who’s going to help me skin snakes and chase after the twins? I don’t know how to survive without him. I don’t know if we can survive at all.

“I don’t mean you’re heavy,” Ben says, disrupting my thoughts again.

“What?”

“You’re looking blue at me. I was only joking, you’re not making me sweat.”

I frown at him. “Oh, it ain’t about that. I’m just thinking.”

“’Bout what?”

“My brother. We always worked together, you know? Like you and Curtis. It was hard enough with the two of us, what am I gonna do now? I got nobody else.”

“You’ll think of something.” Ben gives me a steady nod. “You’ll find a way to get by.”

“I reckon I must.” My mind goes back to the conversation I had with Clementine. I scoffed at her then, still sore about the Judge. I never thought things would get bad enough I’d really consider joining up with Pearl; that’s for girls with no other options. But I’m looking around, and my options are mighty slim. And one thing’s certain; I didn’t survive the sickness just to starve to death in Glory.

“Why did you become a hunter?” I ask him.

His eyebrows shoot up before he schools them back down. He pauses before he answers me, choosing his words carefully. “Our family were horse breeders, up in Ennis. Our granddaddy started the stables, and Pa took over when he passed. Only I don’t need to tell you what happened—everybody knows shakes go for the animals first. Our horses got sick, or died on the road, and we had to shut down.”

“So you decided to go kill shakes.”

“Seemed like the thing to do. What else is there out here?”

“You could go north. I hear they got real cities there, with proper roads.”

Ben shakes his head. “Ain’t no way out. No railroads, no stations once you get past Llano. Judge don’t want us leaving, and neither do the folks up north.”

“He can’t control y’all forever.”

“Someone else will take his place. Don’t much matter who’s at the top when you’re scraping the bottom. Look, I know you don’t like hunters, but there ain’t many ways for a man to make a living now.”

“A woman neither,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “And I like you fine, Garrett. You done right by me, hunter or no.”