see. If you think that will stop that for you, stop whatever it is from dying inside you, then… then I can’t hold it against you. I don’t know if I can take you back after, but I can’t hold it against you.”
He bowed his head. “But there is a chance.”
“Yes. There’s a chance. There’s always a chance.”
“I hope things will be better,” he said softly. “I hope I can love you again.”
She looked away. “I hope so, too.”
He shut his eyes. He heard her walking away and he began to say something after her but could not think of anything. Then he sat and thought.
Hours later he realized she was gone. He had not even seen her head toward the street. Had not even heard the car start. He imagined her fading into the night like some ghost, her dress a warm honey flame swallowed by the dusky shadows, traveling forward into the darkness with a hat on her head and her suitcase in her hand. Movements slow and dignified and normal. Like she was expecting something. Waiting for something to appear before her on the road.
Then he had walked back into the house. Every inch of it had been soaked in silence. He had stood there in the living room and known he stood in the belly of something once pregnant and full of promise. A future and a life violently aborted without even a cry to mark its passing from the world.
* * *
Dawn climbed in the distance and gave the gray land texture. They stopped again to scout. Hammond saw no pursuers but then he did not see much of anything; whatever forest they were in was a deep one. Roosevelt and Lottie foraged for food but Pike whispered an order not to use the gun. He would also not bother to set traps for they would not be staying long.
They returned later with mushrooms and roots they figured were good enough to eat. Pike inspected them, having some rudimentary knowledge of this, and they muddled a thin, watery broth of the ones he approved and sipped it gratefully, trying to ignore its gritty texture. They continued on until the trees came to an end and the stream turned into a river. They bathed and washed their wounds and their clothing, Lottie going downstream for decency’s sake but not all that far as decency didn’t have much to do with anything right now, she said. Connelly and Hammond watched her walk away, undoing her shawl and letting her hair spill out. They shared a look but said nothing.
Roosevelt had woven fishhooks into his coat lapel, each sharp prong carefully wrapped in paper to protect him. They made makeshift poles out of string and reeds and Monk managed to catch three of some kind of small trout. They gutted them and cooked them over an open fire and they had stew once more, but this time their bellies awoke to the fat and meat and for a while they were sated.
Lottie undid Roonie’s bandage. It was ugly but she said it was healthy enough. Pike agreed. They both undid Connelly’s and winced at the gash running down his eyebrow and temple.
“It’ll scar,” said Lottie.
“He still has the eye,” said Pike. “You do, don’t you?”
Connelly turned to look at the glimmering surface of the river, and though the specks of light came through somewhat smeary he said he could still see fine.
“Good,” said Pike. “Now we’ll risk a fire. A real one, for warmth. And we’ll talk.”
“Back there,” said Monk softly, “back there in the woods… You said that was a trap.”
Pike nodded. “I did indeed.”
“What’d you mean by that?”
He hesitated, idly drawing in the mud with a finger. “Well, you heard them back there, didn’t you? Just a snatch of conversation, but it was enough. They had been sent. Sent by someone who we were following and didn’t want us following anymore. Someone who knew we had to be on that train and that we’d be traveling illegally.”
There was no sound but the running water. No one looked at one another.
“He’s covering his trail,” said Pike finally.
“Who?” asked Roonie.
“The shiver-man. The gray man, of course. They were helping him.”
“Why would anyone agree to that?” asked Monk. “I-I can’t imagine him… imagine him…”
“What?” Pike said. “Buying thugs?”
“No. I can’t.”
“It’s a challenging thought, that I admit. We think of him as a monster. But others may just see a scarred man. We know what he is, they do not. They would just listen to the money in his pocket.”
“Could be more to him,” said Connelly, looking keenly at Pike. “Could be he’s used to being chased. Used to tricking the folks who chase him.”
Pike returned his gaze, his face fierce and furious. “Yes. It
“So what does this mean?” said Lottie. “What does this have to do with us?”
“It means we can no longer use the rails,” he said.
“That will cripple us,” said Monk.
“Yes. Yes, it will,” said Pike. “But it’s better to be crippled than dead. We’ve killed two men on the railroad —”
“But they were trying to kill
“That’s true. We know that. We know that well and good. But will a lawman? Will the railroad man? For all we know the railroad man was in on it. And besides, who are we to trust? Who are we to be believed?”
“Americans,” said Roonie defiantly. “American citizens.”
“We are hobos,” Pike said harshly. “Beggars. Vagrants. We have no town or state and we barely have a country. We operate outside of the law and the law knows that.”
“I don’t,” said Hammond.
“Yes you do,” Pike said. “You travel illegally on trains. You have intimidated men for help. And don’t forget why all of us started this journey in the first place. Murder is usually illegal no matter where you go.” He surveyed their faces in the firelight. “That’s what we wish to do, isn’t it? To murder?”
There was no sound but the crackling of flames. Connelly said, “Yes.”
“Yes. You all’ve just tasted violence. You’ll taste more, certainly. If you continue, that is.”
Lottie covered her mouth with one hand.
“So what do we do?” said Roonie quietly.
“We keep going. We can find out where that train stopped and search for the gray man there.”
“But he’ll be miles away by then!” said Hammond.
“I’ve never let distance deter me,” said Pike, and his voice was like ice. “It didn’t at the start. It won’t now. I’ll walk until my legs are stiff and broken, that I’ll do, amen.”
He fixed his gaze on them, and, feeling its force, they nodded, one by one.
Connelly’s thoughts strayed back to the few words they’d heard their attackers share. He couldn’t help think that they were somehow familiar with the scarred man, which made him wonder if more than miles lay between them and their quarry.
“How many more rounds do you have, Roosevelt?” asked Connelly.
“Dozen or so,” he said softly.
“I hope that’ll be enough, if we need them,” said Hammond.
“I hope so, too,” said Pike. “Buying bullets gets a lot of attention. Attention we don’t need.”
Lottie shivered and wiped at her eyes. Roonie was rocking back and forth like a clockwork toy. The only ones who did not move were Pike, Hammond, and Connelly, who sat like they were made of stone.
“Well, then,” said Hammond. “Well, then.”
They then turned in for sleep, and, exhausted, slept soundly.
