Authors: Adam Lewinson
Tags: #romance, #scifi, #action adventure, #robots, #montana, #cowboys, #westerns, #scifi action, #dystopian fiction, #scifi action adventure
Pace ignored the platitude. “Judge, I want to
know what’s being done about this.”
“Well, Boze has conducted a thorough
investigation.” Boze. You may as well let a wolf pack do the
investigation. “It’s being treated as a robbery, and if Boze can
bring me a suspect I’m pleased to hear the trial.”
“A robbery?” Pace seemed surprised.
“The looters stole your family’s gold,” the
judge explained. “It is a robbery.”
“I don’t care about the gold! I care about
who shot my father!”
“Probably not planned. Just a heat of the
moment sort of thing. Or someone panicked. Leave it to Boze. He’ll
find out who shot him.”
“How did anyone get a gun in the first
place?” Pace had a fair point. “Let alone the bullets! The only
person around here who I know is allowed to carry a gun is
Boze.”
The judge leaned his girth forward toward
Pace. Seemed like he was trying to be helpful, in his own way.
“Careful to accuse the only lawman we’ve got. He’s on your side.
Besides, someone did break into the armory last night and stole a
revolver. Find that revolver and we’ve found your father’s
killer.”
Pace turned around to leave, but then he
stopped. “This is the first murder we’ve had in Great Falls since…”
Pace hesitated and glanced at me for a second. “Apologies Ash, but
we know when the last murders were. The whole town banded together
to handle that situation. So how come this time I’ve got to rely on
Boze?” No one had to answer that question. It was because Pace’s
father was rich, and the innocent people my father killed were
poor. “Someone knocked me out when I wasn’t looking. I know I saw
some of his Nuggets in that house. Two of them tried to skull me
with a fireplace shovel. Do you think Boze is actually going to
investigate his own guys?”
“You’re upset,” the judge said, leaning back
in the comfort of his chair. “But you should watch your
accusations. Boze is well aware that a few of his men participated
in the looting. They’ll be dealt with properly.”
“I don’t care about looting. I only care
about who shot my father.”
“Well the Nuggets didn’t shoot your
father.”
“And I’m to take Boze’s word for that?”
The conversation was over. Pace stormed out
of the courthouse and I followed. Unspoken was that even though
Boze never liked Pace, he was especially motivated to not help us.
That night we were out with Becca cemented it. If Boze found out
who the gunman was, he’d just appropriate the weapon and the gold
and keep both in his personal collection. Or maybe he wouldn’t even
lift a finger to try to find out.
Then, as if he was waiting for us, Boze was
outside the courthouse leaning against the wall. As he saw us
approach, Boze removed his hat and stood upright. He almost looked
contrite. “Pace, I am very sorry for your loss. Know that my
investigation will uncover…”
“Save it!” Pace barked. Then before I could
stop him, even if I wanted to, Pace hurled a fist and it connected
with Boze’s chin. It didn’t move Boze much, but it was the thought
that counted. Then I pulled Pace away before any real damage could
occur.
I muttered in his ear as I walked him away.
“Not sure that’s gonna help.”
“I don’t care,” Pace said, nursing his sore
hand. “It felt good.”
Later that day I walked Pace back to his
relative’s house where he was planning on staying indefinitely. I
was open to inviting him to stay with me, if it came to that. But I
could tell he needed some time to himself. There would be time for
all else.
That night I headed to the saloon, and was
surprised to see that Pace wasn’t there. I would’ve kept him
company, I suppose. Instead I drank alone, as usual. To my surprise
Becca sat down next to me at the bar. I hadn’t noticed her, which
isn’t like me.
She seemed very woeful. “I wanted to go to
the funeral but my father forbid it,” Becca explained. “He doesn’t
want anyone thinking we’re sympathetic, just so we don’t make
ourselves a target.”
“Target?” I asked, not sure what she
meant.
“It was probably just about gold, but my
father is afraid there was some sort of grudge involved, and he
doesn’t want us to get in the middle of that. This isn’t about a
grudge, is it?”
Sure, I thought. We all have a grudge against
the only rich family in town. But it’s not about anything
important, just money.
“He took it hard, didn’t he? I can only
imagine.” I could more than imagine. I was twelve years old when my
father was gunned down by an angry posse. Old enough to remember
him, or at least the sting of the back of his hand. My mother was
there to comfort me. And so was Becca. “I want you to know I’m so
sorry,” Becca continued. I looked down and noticed that she was
covering my hand with hers. How much whiskey had I drank? I
couldn’t believe I didn’t notice immediately.
“Why say sorry to me? I barely know
Pace.”
“It’s just, well, you both lost your
fathers…” I kinda liked that she remembered what I went through
when I lost my father. Maybe she wondered if I’d need to be
comforted all over again. I could be okay with that. “I’d like to
pass along my condolences to Pace. Do you know where he is?”
I’m not sure why but I pulled my hand away. I
guess it was cause she was showing interest in Pace. “Is it
important?” I asked.
“Of course! He’s got to be hurting right now.
He probably needs someone to talk to.” I wondered how it was
possible that she cared for him, after one stupid night in the Old
City. Unless they had secretly seen each other again without me
knowing about it… “I just assumed that if anyone knew where he
went, you would.”
“He’s staying with a relative, I dunno.”
Becca sighed and said, “I hope he’s holding
up okay.”
The conversation trailed off for a minute.
Didn’t much want to talk about Becca’s obvious feelings about Pace.
Whatever.
“How are
you
holding up, Asher?” I
looked into the beautiful face in front of me. She seemed genuinely
interested in my welfare. But how was that possible, when she
clearly cared so much for Pace?
“I’m fine.”
I’m real good at ending conversations. But
Becca kept sitting there, kinda hanging around. Finally she said,
“so which relative is Pace staying with? It might be nice to bring
him some food or something…”
I feel stupid, looking back at that moment. I
had her all to myself. But all she could think about was Pace.
“You like him that much, huh?” My tone was
kinda accusatorial. Not sure if that’s a word, you know what I
mean.
She got kinda defensive. “No, I mean, he’s
just been through a lot, I’d do the same for you…”
“You did the same for me,” I interrupted.
“Fine.”
I collected my hat, tossed a gold coin to the
bartender and headed outside. I mounted up on Charon as Becca came
outside after me.
“Where are you going, Asher?”
“Pace’s relative’s. You comin’?”
We rode in silence to the relative’s house.
Not sure exactly why I was taking her there. Delivering her to him
I guess. He won I lost. Or maybe I just kinda wanted to check in on
Pace. I dunno. Anyway we got there and it was pretty late but I
knocked on the door anyway. His Aunt was kinda grumpy when she
answered the door.
“He’s gone,” the Aunt said.
“What girl’s he been sleeping with?” I asked.
“We’ll find him there.”
Becca hit me pretty hard. “Shut up, you’re
being rude!”
I was being rude. Also practical. Also
reminding Becca of the truth.
“He’s not with a girl,” the Aunt explained.
“He took off for the air force base. He likes to go there sometimes
to be alone.”
“It’s pretty late,” I said. “You expect him
back tonight?”
“Might be a while. He brought enough
provisions to last a few days so I really can’t say.” I nodded and
expressed my thanks. As we were leaving, Pace’s Aunt said one more
thing. “Oh, and Ash, could you kindly return the suit you
borrowed?”
I grunted a reply. Sure. Don’t think I’ll
ever wear a suit again, don’t really want to.
“I’ll take you home Becca,” I said.
“Will Pace be all right out there at the air
force base overnight?”
“I’ll ride out there and see.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s not a safe place to go.”
“You took me to the Old City,” she said.
“This can’t be any worse.”
Probably not, I thought.
“It’s almost midnight, and it’s nearly
freezing. Best to set out in the morning. Meet up at my place at
6am. Dress warm.”
I did sleep a few hours, but found myself
awake at 5am. So I packed up my gear and headed out early. Alone.
Did I do it on purpose? Kinda. I envisioned Becca showing up at my
place and finding no one there. That’ll serve her for getting a
crush on Pace.
I rode east for a few miles before I realized
something. I could have been riding alone with Becca. What the eff
was I thinking?
I remember it was so effing cold that
morning. Unseasonably cold. I’m pretty accustomed to the weather
though, and garments made from bison hair kept both me and Charon
warm enough.
I made my way across the undeveloped plains
until I reached the Missouri River. I followed the river’s edge
northeast. The river’s not wide around there and you can easily see
across to the other side. Getting across is another matter. Traders
avoid this whole area entirely, approaching from the west along
what used to be called Route 15 and crossing over a massive bridge
built for cars, which supposedly is holding up well. Black Eagle
Falls, just south of our settlement, used to be a way across until
the dam there collapsed a hundred years ago I’m told. Now there’s
just a thirty foot drop and chunks of concrete where the dam used
to be. Hell of a place to fall in. Just ask my mother. Anyway, I
needed to get across the Missouri to get to the air force base. I
could have doubled back to Route 87 and make my way across that
rickety bridge again, but I had another plan.
On our way east, me and Charon passed by a
structure on the other side of the Missouri. The tall gray walls
were covered in moss and surrounded by weeds probably as tall as
me. Big panes of shattered glass filled up half the walls facing
out toward the river. Probably a fine place for eagles and vultures
to nest. A sun-bleached flag still waved in the crisp breeze. I
remembered being shown pictures in history books of what that flag
was. Red white and blue. A bunch of stars and some stripes. All
that used to be symbolic for something, but not anymore I suppose.
I guess technically we still lived in the United States of America,
but I’m not sure that has any meaning anymore.
I knew what that sign read in front of the
structure. Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail Interpretive
Center. Some big words there. I only knew it cause someone once
read it to me and I remembered it. They also told me about who
Lewis and Clark were and why they used to be so effing important a
couple hundred years ago. Whatever. Their Interpretive Center isn’t
looking so good anymore, so what difference did they make? Whatever
the eff an Interpretive Center is anyway.