Through Darkest America

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Kari grinned without looking at him. “You let what you feel get in the way of your head, Howie. You hate Pardo so you don’t mind thinking he’s stupid. He isn’t.”

“I never thought he was, Kari. I didn’t say that.”

“You do, or you wouldn’t listen to stuff like that, or come talking to me about it. Pardo knows what he’s doing. Or he wouldn’t do it.”

“Well godamn,” he said irritably, “I can figure out things like that, too. I sure don’t need you to explain it to me!”

She faced him in the dark, the pale starlight showing him the deep, curious eyes, the tiny frown above the bridge of her nose.

“All right. What would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we get past Monroe,” she said patiently, “and meet more Rebels than we can handle, Howie.”

“Well hell, I don’t know. And I don’t figure anyone else does, either.”

“Pardo does,” she said simply.

Howie’s ears burned. “You’ve sure taken a sudden liking to him. I reckon I should have figured.” He knew what he was trying to say and was immediately sorry. But Kari didn’t take it that way, or didn’t care.

“No,” she told him, “that really isn’t true, Howie. I don’t guess Pardo’s better or worse than any man. He just wants more than some and goes after what he wants.”

“Meaning what?”

Kari gave him a questioning look.

“You mean something,” he pressed her. “What did you mean?”

“Nothing, Howie. I didn’t mean anything at all. Why does everything have to mean something?”

Howie bit his lip. “You’re always doin’ that. Saying something and then saying you didn’t say anything. Or that you don’t care one way or the other anyway!”

“I don’t, Howie.”

“Come on. Kari…”

“No. You care, Howie. I know you do and I know a lot of other people do. Maybe I’m just different. But I don’t. And I don’t think I want to.” She studied him a long moment. “I don’t want to be like you. Or anyone, if that’s what I have to do… care so much I can’t think straight.”

Howie didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Kari wrapped her arms around slim shoulders and shivered. “I’m cold, Howie. I’m going to wrap up and try to keep warm and get some sleep. If you want to come and bring your blanket you can, but if you’re thinking about feeling around and stuff like that I don’t want you to.”

She turned and disappeared around the stone pillar and Howie stared after her. He didn’t know whether he hated himself more right then, or Kari. Why did it always have to end up the same way, every time? Why did she have to say things like that? It wasn’t true, anyway. People had to feel things—whether they said they did or not.

Someone laughed softly in the darkness, right behind him. Howie went cold, then jerked around quickly. Pardo grinned up at him. He was stretched out on a flat rock, his hands behind his head. Howie felt sick. Lord, he’d been there all the time and heard everything!

“Sure is an interestin’ night, ain’t it?” Pardo cleared his throat, sat up and spat into the dark.

“Guess you got yourself a earful,” Howie said soberly. “Sure hope you enjoyed it.”

“Couldn’t much help loin’ some hearing,” said Pardo. “It’s a natural thing if you got them little holes in the sides of your head.”

Behind Pardo, the pack animals stirred as one of the

beasts brushed his hide against stone. He’d brought his valuable cargo to the highest, safest point on the rise, then. Howie wanted to leave. He was embarrassed, and angry.

“I reckon I’ll get myself some sleep,” he said.

“You do that,” said Pardo. He grinned at Howie. “Go an’ get yourself under your blanket an’ dream about your true love…”

Howie bristled. “Listen, Pardo

Pardo laughed. “Shit, boy, you might’s well poke it in that big old rock there. Do you ’bout as much good as sniffin’ after that one. You ain’t goin’ to get any.”

“I suppose you tried!” snapped Howie.

“I got more sense than that.”

“Well, I ain’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“And… and I reckon that’s my business!”

“Sure is. You can’t tell nobody nothin’ they don’t want to hear.” He paused a moment, chuckling to himself. “She ever tell you ’bout Sequoia?”

“What?” Howie tried to see the man’s face in the dark.

“High Sequoia.” Howie caught his grin.

“Well, what’s that?”

“Just ask her sometime. See what she says.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Howie said stubbornly. “Suit yourself…”

“Maybe I don’t care nothin’ about High whatever it is!”

Pardo laughed. It was a deep, whiskey laugh that started in his belly and came rumbling out of his throat. Howie knew he was going to kill him, right then and there. He knew it and felt it rising up to happen. His hand went right to his pistol like it already knew what it was supposed to do.

He knew something was wrong, because he hadn’t fired a shot yet and everybody in the world was shooting at him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The fight lasted no more than a good quarter hour, though it seemed much longer than that. The Loyalists sent every man in camp scurrying for cover under a deadly hail of gunfire. Pardo and the Rebels recovered quickly enough and returned the favor with a vengeance. For a while, a small part of the mesa was nearly as bright as day. Then, the government troopers suddenly broke off the attack and disappeared into the night.

“I don’t like it,” scowled Hacker, “it don’t taste right to me.”

Hacker was a big man, with a fat belly and thighs round as oaks. He’d spent all his life outdoors, but his face refused to take the sun. That, and the raw corn he consumed in great quantity, left his beefy features puffed and florid. He sat his horse between his two lieutenants and eyed Pardo against the faint smudge of dawn. All three soldiers were clad alike in pale blue uniforms and black Rebel caps. They kept their mounts a respectable distance from Pardo. Klu, Jigger, and two more of the biggest men among the raiders were close behind their chief.

“The thing is,” said Hacker, “I’ve fought them fellers before and they ain’t no fools. Monroe and Conner is smart as whips, and I figure one or both of ’em was out there last night. Why, hell…” He spat contemptuously into the dirt, “we was all shootin’ at nothing in the dark and so was they. If Monroe’d wanted to take us he’d of been halfway up that rise ’fore he let off a round.” He looked hard at Pardo. “There sure wasn’t nothin’ stopping him.”

Pardo let the remark go by, but he met Hacker’s gaze straight on. There wasn’t much he could say, without starting a small war right there. It had been his men on outrider duty when the government troopers attacked. Instead of cutting a wide patrol so they could warn the camp in plenty of time, they’d hugged the base of the rise like birds on an egg. The government soldiers had sliced an extra mouth in four of them before they knew what was happening. They’d been the only casualties in camp except a Rebel trooper who couldn’t keep his head down. If the Loyalists suffered any losses, they’d taken them with them. There wasn’t a sign on the mesa that anything bigger