Through Darkest America

knees tucked tight under his chin.

“I said get up, boy,” Pardo said evenly. “I swear I’ll plain stomp you to death if you don’t!”

Howie knew he meant it. He fought back pain, brought himself to his knees. “I… can’t go no further.”

“You better.”

“What… for? So you can… hit me again?”

“The hittin’s done.”

For some reason, Howie believed him. He pulled himself up. His head swam and his knees buckled. But he stayed.

Pardo studied him in the darkness. “Now, boy—or Howie, I reckon. You got what was comin’ and it’s over and done with and we ain’t going to talk about it any ’cept right now. You run into a feller tonight that knows who you are and where you came from. He seen you with your pa, once. He knows what happened to your folks. Seem’s like most everyone east of here does and I ain’t surprised. He knows what you done to that Colonel Jacob feller, too.”

Pardo paused a minute. “Now listen careful and don’t git nothing wrong. What you done was right and ain’t anyone can take it from you. You ruined him good and I figure you had call for it. Only what you done back there in the hills weren’t right. You lied to me, boy. An’ maybe I can see you had cause, but that don’t change nothing. I could have taken you into camp first time I went down, and left Klu and Jigger behind. I thought serious on it, but somethin’ told me better. So where’d I be if we’d ridden in with them army fellers still there—and some of ’em maybe the ones after you? Just where’d I be, boy? You answer me that.”

Pardo shook his head and scratched his beard. “You’re just damn lucky you got caught by a feller that’s a lot scareder a’me than he is of them soldiers. ’Cause they sure as hell want your head in a sack, boy, and they’re willing to pay for it. Reckon I’d be a sight better off if I sold it to ’em!”

“Whyn’t you do that, then,” Howie said darkly. “Wouldn’t surprise me, none.”

“Reckon I won’t,” Pardo told him. “For now, anyways.”

“And I reckon I’ll just get out of your hair so you won’t come to no more trouble. That’ll suit me well enough!”

“Well, it don’t suit me,” said Pardo: “Just get that out of your head.”

“Why!” Howie exploded. “What you want me around for? I ain’t anything but trouble, you said so yourself. An’ I don’t want to be here no more’n you want me to!”

Pardo looked off in the dark toward the river. “Guess you better get down to the creek and wash up and get some sleep. You’ll likely be sore come morning, and I don’t want you mopin’ around none.”

He started down the hill, then stopped. “I reckon you’ve earned this right enough. Considerin’ how you come by it.”

Something flashed between them and landed at Howie’s feet. He picked it up, and felt Jacob’s pistol and holster.

“We git some time,” said Pardo, “I’ll show you what to do with it, ’sides struttin’ around looking all rough-like. Mean feller like you can likely use some gun-learning.”

Chapter Sixteen

Getting cleaned up for bed was about the last thing on Howie’s mind. If he could make his body move up the hill and back to camp, he knew exactly where he was going— and it didn’t have anything at all to do with working his tail off another day for Pardo.

He felt better about having the pistol back—Pardo, of course, hadn’t given him any cartridges for it. He never would, either, Howie figured. That business about teaching him to shoot was so much talking. Pardo was real good at sayin’ and not doing, unless it fit his needs.

The idea made Howie so mad he near forgot his aches and pains. Was that what Pardo thought? That he’d be so dang excited about getting his gun back he’d just run and hop in bed like a good boy? After near getting beat half to death? Well old Pardo could just think on that some more. Howie didn’t intend to be around long enough to care.

The camp was in a small hollow on the far side of the hill, protected from the wind. He was relieved to find both Klu and Jigger off somewhere. Getting by those two wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world.

It didn’t take long to gather up his few belongings from the leanto. Most important of all was the good ash bow. He’d kept it wrapped from the weather in his old jacket, and there were even half a dozen good arrows left. And until he could shoot…

He wondered what Pardo had done with his rifle. It’d be a good thing to take if he could find where it was hidden. He dismissed the thought, knowing Pardo would have it stashed in a good place. Along with cartridges and other valuables.

He hadn’t even thought about where he’d go. It didn’t really matter much, long as it wasn’t east. Just about everyone seemed to be after him back there. West, maybe. ’Cept there was fighting. And in the north, too, most likely. Maybe he’d head south. Whatever was there couldn’t be worse than anywhere else. And it stayed warmer longer in the south. For someone on the run, camping out—

A twig snapped just behind him. Howie froze, then turned quickly and threw himself to one side.

“Lordee, Burt. You sure are a jumpy one!”

Howie sat up, feeling foolish. “Aimie. What you doin’ out here?”

“Looking for you, silly. What you think?”

“Listen, that’s fine, only…”

Aimie fell down beside him and drew herself close. “Boy, your pa sure was mad. Was it ’cause of me, Burt?”

“It didn’t have nothing to do with you. It was somethin’ else. Between me and him. And he ain’t my pa, Aimie.”

“He’s not?”

“No. We’re not kin at all, and I’m grateful enough for that.”

Aimie looked at him curiously. “I don’t have no idea what you’re talking about, Burt. But I don’t much care.” Her face brightened. “Thing is, I found you again.”

“Yeah. You did that. Only—ow!”

Aimie drew back. “Now, what?”

“It ain’t nothing you did,” Howie explained. He felt his side gingerly. Something seemed to slip back and forth over his ribs. “I just got busted up some, is all.”

Aimie looked pained, then thoughtful. “Burt?” “What?”

“It doesn’t hurt… there, does it?”

“Oh, Lord, Aimie!” Howie almost jumped out of his skin. Aimie worked skillfully at his trousers. He could feel her breath on his cheek, in quick little bursts like his own.

“You just can’t… get a girl all worked up…  and then run off and… leave her, Burt…”

“I didn’t exactly…  go on my own… Aimie…  Aimie!”

Lying back, she spread her skirts and pulled him to her. “God, you ain’t no boy at all, Burt. Burt, honey, I can’t wait no more!”

In the dim starlight he could see the flash of creamy skin. His legs met the inside of her thighs, his hardness touched incredibly warm softness, and the whole world exploded in his loins.

Aimie sat up and stared. “Oh, Burt, you didn’t!” Howie swallowed and looked away. “I couldn’t help it, Aimie, I just—”

“You just nothin’ is what!” she snapped, pushing him off. She turned from him briefly, then stood up smoothing her skirts. Howie helped her. His hand brushed against her breasts and she jerked away.

“You done about all the playing you’re going to for now,” she said hotly. “Such as it was!”

Howie’s embarrassment turned to anger. “Listen. You didn’t have to follow me up here, Aimie. Nobody asked you to. What’d you want to bother with me for, anyway? You got plenty of others to