Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) (30 page)

With no other option, she raced across the courtyard and swung her cudgel with all her might. The creature’s head separated from its shoulders, and its body fell in a sickening heap.

Arga’Zul blinked several times before retrieving his sword.

By the end of the first day, more than half of the Flayer army had been lost. But they managed to fortify their position inside the northern tower. The wounded had been allowed to leave without execution. Their efforts had won them that right. Most went out together to clear as many creatures as they could before they, too, transformed. Friday admired their bravery, but she felt no love lost for any of them.

Among their party, Jaras had fared the worst. He sat against a wall, catatonic, unable to respond to his father’s commands. Friday wondered what would happen if he remained like that in the morning.

As the sun descended, Saah and Arga’Zul pored over a map and planned the remaining trip to the CDC for dawn.

Later, when the bulk of warriors sat down to rest, Arga’Zul called Friday to his fire.

“You fought bravely today. Your actions in the yard … were you any other slave, I would name you to my brigade, though you are but a woman. But you would not accept, would you?”

Friday said nothing.

“As I thought. After the stranger gets his prize and we get our weapons, I will return to my village. There, I will kill my brother and make you my queen.”

Friday was too tired to laugh. Too tired to shake her head. She barely had the power to speak.

“If you think I could ever love you,” Friday said, “you are a fool.”

“Love.” Arga’Zul snorted. “Love is a woman’s tool. It is your strength I admire. Your fire. Such rare qualities in such abundance. In time, you might see we are not so different.”

“We are nothing alike,” she spat out.

“No? I have hated the Aserra all my life, as you have hated my kind. I have sworn no concession, no reward would ever stop me from destroying you all. And yet, as I sit here, I offer you this proposal: cleave to me, and I will never make war on the Aserra again.”

Friday was shocked. More than she’d ever been in her life. Arga’Zul was right. She hated him beyond the pale, but she loved her people more. Could she give up everything, including Crusoe, to save them? Did she have it in her to make that ultimate sacrifice?

“There is a whole world to conquer,” Arga’Zul continued, as if sensing her hesitation. “What care have I for a stubborn few on a faraway mountain? With you by my side, all my days could feel like today.”

Friday lay down in a corner of the building, the cold air drawing away the smell of sweat and blood. She didn’t rise when she heard Arga’Zul fall into a deep sleep. She didn’t flee when her guards nodded off. But neither did she stop the men who whispered from the hall when they broke to return to the ships and report back to Baras’Oot everything they’d seen and heard.

The horse was old, but its pace was steady. Robinson ached in places he never imagined.

He tried to keep his mind focused on things other than Friday, but most memories he had only harkened of loss. Even the ones of his family and friends pricked line thorns in their absence.

Oddly enough, he found his reprieve ruminating on the mute brother and sister. They were out there with the Prophet, watching his back and keeping him safe. They’d discovered nobility in this calling, and it gave them peace. But Robinson didn’t think it would last. He pitied them, even while they most assuredly pitied him. That was the ultimate irony. They saw a reckless young man who trudged through the dangerous places of the world without caution. And yet, he had hope. He had a future. They had only the present. They had their precision and each other, and it would take them far, but without something more—faith or some article of promise—he expected they’d wake up one day, maybe years down the road, and feel hollow. It’d seem as if life was a puzzle, and they had only just discovered pieces were missing. That hollowness would grow from the outer edges of their consciousness until it consumed their every waking thought. And then the day would come when one of them, in some benign moment of weakness, would let their guard down. And fate would strike. Then, two would be one. By then, the course would be set, and all that would remain would be for the one alone to hunker down by their sibling’s side and wait for the end to come.

It’s sad,
he thought.
But that’s the way of things. The mind is linear and fragile. We trudge forward, stand still, or fall behind. It’s rare when we break from the road to take new paths. And rarer still that we appreciate them when we do.

The ride took most of a day. When Robinson finally crested the hill of the train yard, he got off his horse and handed the reins to Chimosh.

“If I’m not at the meeting place by noon tomorrow, I won’t be coming.”

Chimosh nodded before he and his party vanished into the brush.

Robinson arrived in Cowboytown just before noon. The bustle was gone. The people had obviously heard what had transpired at the City of the Pyramid, and many had moved on.

When he turned onto Main Street, a whistle sounded. Robinson looked up to see a Big Hat sentry signaling his approach. By the time he reached the saloon, Boss was already waiting.

“You’re like a bad penny,” she said. “You keep turning up. Did you find your girl?” Robinson nodded. “That’s good.”

“But I couldn’t keep her.”

“That’s bad. I suppose you have a reason for being here.”

“I do.”

“And I suppose I won’t like it.”

“Probably not.”

“Come on in, then,” she said, pushing through the saloon doors. “I’ll order us some joe.”

With her feet on her desk and her hat on the rack, Boss listened to Robinson’s tale. When he was done, she set her coffee down and folded her hands on her lap.

“Sounds like someone should be making a moving picture of your life.”

“They’d be missing the best part.”

“So if I get the gist of your proposal, you want me to provide transportation for a race of dangerous savages to a location where they’ll battle a second, much larger, group of savages that already wants to peel me like a spud. And you want me to do this without my own men, away from the security of my town?”

“I guess that sounds about right.”

“And all I get in taking the side of this outmanned, outgunned band of killers is your assurance that, on the ridiculously low chance of their success, I will be hereto afforded no future grievances via them, along with a potential pat on the back.”

“Correct.”

“Kid, you need to work on your negotiating skills.”

“You’ve heard the saying, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’?”

“I have. But I’ve always been particularly fond of: ‘you can’t lose what you don’t throw in the hat.’”

“The Flayers already want you dead.”

“You mean after I blew up half their army covering your ass?”

“Technically, it was your own ass you were covering. I doubt mine being there had much to do with it.”

“Up for debate.”

“And if we’re being truly honest, I doubt you took out more than a quarter of their army. Maybe less.”

“How reassuring.” Boss smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Wellie entered carrying a tray of food. Her face lit up when she saw Robinson.

“Morning, Mr. Crusoe,” she said.

“Wellie. What are you doing here?”

“You may not a heard,” Boss said. “Wellie, my biggest earner and the best whore this side of Kansas, decided the
game of billiards
is no longer the trade for her. Believes she has more to offer than being on her back. Wonder where she got an idea like that?”

Robinson swallowed. Wellie winked at him and exited.

“Next, you’ll be telling me them damned mutos have rights too.”

“I’m not that progressive.”

Boss stood up and looked out the window. “Kid, I like you. You got huevos. And I admire huevos, especially when they’re paired with some ham upstairs, but this deal isn’t slated much in my favor. Tell me why I should consider it.”

“First, nobody chases Boss from a fight.”

She laughed heartily.

“Flattery will get you further with Wellie than with me.”

“Number two: as you so succinctly pointed out, the Bone Flayers already want your hide. Here’s an opportunity to take a big bite out of theirs without losing a single gun.”

“And number three?” she asked.

“If Baras’Oot’s army takes the kind of casualties I suspect, it’ll make him mighty vulnerable. And that will look awfully enticing to the river clans they’ve been robbing blind all these years. After what transpired last week, it’s clear this area needs a new center of trade. I imagine someone could make a serious profit providing the kind of stable market from which others might peddle their wares.”

“Now, you’re talking sense.”

“Plus, fall is a beautiful time of year. I expect the train ride would be something special.”

Boss agreed to the deal, if not for the simple fact that she was a proactive woman. She’d rather be doing something than sitting around waiting for the killers to come to her.

A small percentage of Boss’s Big Hats had fled following the debacle at the City of the Pyramid, but most remained. Boss chose five to accompany her on the ride east.

With preparations underway, Robinson met with Sal again for some specialty tailoring.

“You want what?” she asked when she heard his request.

“Cotton fabric, but reinforced with leather strappings that lay tight across the body but give enough room to move. Like this.”

He drew her a picture.

“Looks like something a savage would wear.”

He nodded but didn’t bother telling her it was inspired by the Aserra’s dress.

“And do you have anything other than boots with heels?”

“Have to check with the cobbler. He’s got some old stuff no one else wanted. Can’t speak for how this getup’s gonna look.”

“That’s okay. I’m not what you would call a peacock
.
”

Sal cackled. “I am assured of that. You gonna keep that hat?”

Robinson turned toward the mirror. The black hat was dirty, scuffed, and torn, but it fit well enough.

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“Eh,” she said. “It’s beat to hell is all. Then again, so are you.”

This time, both of them laughed.

Later that night, Robinson was settling into his room at the motel when a knock came at the door. He opened it and found Boss outside.

“Train’s prepped. Got a full load of coal. We’ll be ready to depart first thing in the morning.”

“Good,” Robinson said.

A silence ensued.

“Been wondering,” Boss said. “What’s next? For you. If you survive.”

“I guess it comes down to whether Friday’s alive.”

“If she isn’t?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve imagined life without her. My family lives across the Atlantica. I could go back, I guess, but it would be hard. I’ve come to love this land in a way I never expected. I think I’d like to see more of it.”

“Offer I made you last week still stands. I could use a man like you here. And if your woman comes along, I suppose I could find something for her too.”

“I appreciate that.”

“It’ll have to go in the ledger, though.”

Robinson smiled. “Doesn’t everything?”

Robinson never believed in portents or omens, but he couldn’t help noticing the heavy mist that blanketed the train yard the next morning. When the train rolled out, Cowboytown disappeared almost instantly. He doubted he would ever see it again.

Boss had arranged for the engine to pull five cars, which would’ve made it easy to carry two hundred Aserra, but Robinson noticed she had added a sixth. He asked about it.

“Weight difference isn’t enough to affect the speed one way or another. And we might need it if there are extra weapons to come home with.

“Just so we’re clear, my purpose here is to provide transportation. If you have any notions of me or my men fighting, put them out of your head here and now. I haven’t survived this long risking my tail for others.”