October skies

‘Oh dear,’ he said, grinning and shaking his head. ‘Well, this ain’t a smart way to go now, is it? Goddamn stupid, if you ask me.’ He looked at the half-dozen rifles held ready amongst the men standing behind Preston. ‘See… reckon it would be you and me, Preston, who’ll be the first to get a lead shot, eh? Don’t make no sense, that.’

Preston said nothing, grinding his jaw in silence.

‘How ’bout we all lower our guns an’ we put this down as a little misunderstandin’?’

The men standing behind Preston looked to him for a sign, a word of command.

‘See, we all need each other. Biggest thing we need to be considerin’ now ain’t no demons or monsters, but this winter and makin’ do ’til spring.’ Keats turned to look out at the faint outline of the trees. ‘An’ whatever’s out there in them woods, the more eyes we have’ — he nodded towards the Paiute — ‘keepin’ a watch out, the better for everyone, right?’

Ben noticed some murmurs of agreement amongst their people, but a stony silence from Preston and the gathered crowd behind him.

Keats slowly stepped forward, stretching out a hand. ‘Preston? You know I’m talkin’ sense here. Them Paiute can stay with us, on our side. An’ we’ll keep it like it is… ain’t none of my people, nor these Indians, goin’ to step beyond them oxen. How’s that sound?’

Ben was close enough to Preston to see he was trembling; subtle repeated tics on his face and hands that shook gave him the air of a badly stacked lumber pile ready to tumble.

Preston shook his head almost imperceptibly. ‘A storm is coming, Keats.’

He turned away from them towards his people and spread his hands. He spoke quietly to the armed men standing next to him and gently ushered them away. The crowd, men, women and children, drew away into the mist, heading back towards their side of the camp. The rumpling sound of boots on compacted snow slowly diminished as they faded into the grey.

Ben thought he saw Preston’s tall frame lingering on in the mist as his people trooped back, and thought he heard whispered words, perhaps intended for his ears, perhaps not.

He will come for you all, and soon.

CHAPTER 54

Thursday

Palo Cedro, California

‘Can I top your coffee up?’

‘Yes, please,’ she answered, eyes still locked on the laptop’s screen and the lengthy email she was tapping out.

‘Real good brew,’ the waiter added. ‘Ground the beans myself, just for you.’

Irritated at her train of thought being broken, she looked up.. and caught her breath.

‘Here you go.’ He poured a rich dark blend into the dregs of her cup.

She figured he was three or four years younger; at a guess, still at college. Gorgeous didn’t do justice to his sculpted cheeks and warm Travolta eyes beneath a floppy fringe of dark brown hair.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

His eyes narrowed curiously. ‘You British?’

‘Yeah, well… uh… English, actually.’

He grinned. ‘God, I love that.’

Rose’s cheeks burned, caught off guard by such intimacy. ‘What? What do you…?’

‘The way you guys say that: act-u-all-y. That’s just s-o-o-o British.’

‘Oh, God, that’s embarrassing,’ she muttered self-consciously. ‘I’ll remember not to use that word again.’

‘No way, I love it,’ he said. ‘You staying in town?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I’m just passing, really.’

‘Where you going?’

‘Where I’m going you probably haven’t heard of, but I’ve just been up to Portland.’

‘Cool,’ he said, ‘that’s where I go to college. Linguistics and media.’

Rose smiled and nodded, wondering what to say to that.

‘So… are you, like, on holiday?’

‘Um, no, not really, it’s work. I’m doing some research.’

‘Yeah? Cool,’ he said. He glanced over his shoulder quickly. ‘Look, uh, my shift manager would kick my ass if he heard me, but are you, like, in town tonight?’

She felt the colour drain from her face as she looked up at him — a lean young man with the chiselled contours of a Calvin Kline model.

What? Is he actually hitting on me?

‘Umm, I’m…’ She looked out at the mid-afternoon sky. It was still several hours’ drive back to Blue Valley, and whether she grabbed a motel room here, or booked back into the room she had been occupying for the last fortnight, it was still thirty-nine bucks out of the dwindling slush fund.

‘Only, I know a nice bar nearby,’ the waiter continued. ‘Nice food, nice place. Just a drink and a burger. I’m buying.’

‘I, uh, I really, I’m… I wasn’t…’ she stammered awkwardly.

Dammit, Rose, get a grip. You sound like a retard.

The young man shrugged apologetically, realising he’d caught her on the hop. ‘Sorry, there’s me diving in like that,’ he said quietly. ‘I just fell in love with that accent when you asked for a table earlier,’ he added, taking a step back with the coffee pot in his hand. ‘I finish up here at six, if you wanna go get something?’

Rose managed a composed smile. ‘I’ll think about it.’

She watched him head back to the counter, irritated with herself for being caught off balance and coming across as a gibbering idiot.

She slurped a mouthful of her coffee and sneaked a discreet glance at him.

Gorgeous though, isn’t he?