Marked in Flesh
Page 58
He noticed Tobias Walker didn’t deny that observation, so he took the middle position on the seat.
“Please drive around the town square,” Tolya said.
“Not a good idea,” Tobias protested. “There’s a bad feeling in the air today.”
“I feel it too,” Jackson murmured.
“Please drive around the town square,” Tolya repeated. “I’ve been instructed to look at the businesses.”
Clearly unhappy, Tobias put the truck in gear and obeyed.
“What would you say are essential businesses?” Tolya asked. “The railway station, of course, for transportation and to send and receive food and merchandise. The gas station because vehicles would need fuel and servicing. The bank. What else?”
Jackson wasn’t sure if the question was for him or the human.
“People need a place to buy supplies,” Tobias said. “Hardware store is useful. And someplace that sells feed as well as ranch and farm supplies and equipment.”
“A place to eat and a place to sleep,” Jackson said. He thought of Hope. “Someplace you can buy books and music and pencils and paper for drawing.”
“A clothes store, unless the general store is going to carry basics along with shoes and books,” Tobias said.
Jackson thought, If the Tobias was a Wolf, he’d be panting and whining. <Why are you asking, Tolya?>
<I was asked to consider how many humans would need to be replaced to maintain the buildings and essential businesses.>
<Are the humans in Bennett going to be replaced?>
<I don’t know, but I don’t think this is an idle consideration.>
<Could the Intuits here take over those businesses?>
<Not easily. They have only the people they need for their own settlement. Besides, Intuits or not, they’re still human, so I don’t think it would be wise to ask it of them. Not at first.>
That sounded ominous. What had he walked into?
They circled the town square a second time, but no one had further suggestions beyond a barbershop or similar place.
Tobias breathed a sigh of relief when they drove away from the town. So did Jackson. Tolya didn’t seem concerned, but he could turn into smoke and outmaneuver almost any adversary.
They didn’t speak. If Simon wasn’t expecting him, if he didn’t want to talk to Meg Corbyn in person about the Hope pup, Jackson would have shifted to Wolf and headed home on his own four feet, despite the distance.
• • •
Daniel Black swore fiercely as the wind slammed against the pickup. The dust that covered the road and filled the air was as thick as a mean bitch of a blizzard.
“Mr. Black?”His foreman braced a hand against the dash. “We have to stop. We’re not going to make it to the crossroads in time.”
“We damn well will make it,” Black snarled, fighting to keep the truck on the road. Fighting to see any part of the road. “The longer that community receives supplies, the longer they’ll hang on, and until they’re gone, we won’t have a way into those hills and the riches they hold.”
The men riding in the pickup’s bed pounded on the back of the cab.
“They can’t breathe in this dust,” the foreman said. “We have to stop.”
“We’re not—” A wall of fence posts and barbed wire suddenly appeared in front of him. Black slammed on the breaks and yelled, “Fuck!” as the truck became tangled in the posts and wire.
He threw the truck into park, then slammed his fist against the dash, over and over.
The wind died. The dust settled. Black listened to the men in the back struggling to sit up, struggling to breathe.
Should have been as easy as the last time, he thought as he saw the dust of at least one vehicle driving down the road to Prairie Gold.
He tried to open his door and swore when he realized he was trapped by the barbed wire. So was his foreman. They would have to wait for the men in the back to pull away the wire.
While he waited, he watched the pickup that belonged to the Prairie Gold ranch hesitate at the crossroads, as if whoever was driving was thinking of stopping to help. Then it drove on when four of his men climbed down from the truck bed.
“I’ll get the men started on restringing that wire,” the foreman said.
Black didn’t reply.
“Any word yet about the attack?”
“We’re supposed to wait until the special equipment from Cel-Romano arrives. Once the designated HFL chapters have that equipment, we’ll be ready to make a coordinated attack.” Black didn’t like taking orders from anyone, especially some slick prissy-boy from Cel-Romano. Scratch’s plans had worked just fine at first, but they’d started to unravel when the scandal broke about that farming association selling grains and feed to Cel-Romano that ranches and towns here needed. Without the feed to help the cattle through the coming winter, would he be expected to sell his beef at a loss because he wouldn’t be able to feed the whole herd? No, this next strike would drive the fucking terra indigene so deep into the wild country no one would need to kowtow to them again.
“We’ll wait for the order to attack.” Black opened the door that his men had freed from the barbed wire and posts. “Let’s get to work on those fences.”
• • •
Joe Wolfgard stood at the doorway of Tolya’s motel room and watched Prairie Gold’s residents drive up and form a line of vehicles, waiting for the fuel truck to fill the storage tanks at the gas station across the street.
“Please drive around the town square,” Tolya said.
“Not a good idea,” Tobias protested. “There’s a bad feeling in the air today.”
“I feel it too,” Jackson murmured.
“Please drive around the town square,” Tolya repeated. “I’ve been instructed to look at the businesses.”
Clearly unhappy, Tobias put the truck in gear and obeyed.
“What would you say are essential businesses?” Tolya asked. “The railway station, of course, for transportation and to send and receive food and merchandise. The gas station because vehicles would need fuel and servicing. The bank. What else?”
Jackson wasn’t sure if the question was for him or the human.
“People need a place to buy supplies,” Tobias said. “Hardware store is useful. And someplace that sells feed as well as ranch and farm supplies and equipment.”
“A place to eat and a place to sleep,” Jackson said. He thought of Hope. “Someplace you can buy books and music and pencils and paper for drawing.”
“A clothes store, unless the general store is going to carry basics along with shoes and books,” Tobias said.
Jackson thought, If the Tobias was a Wolf, he’d be panting and whining. <Why are you asking, Tolya?>
<I was asked to consider how many humans would need to be replaced to maintain the buildings and essential businesses.>
<Are the humans in Bennett going to be replaced?>
<I don’t know, but I don’t think this is an idle consideration.>
<Could the Intuits here take over those businesses?>
<Not easily. They have only the people they need for their own settlement. Besides, Intuits or not, they’re still human, so I don’t think it would be wise to ask it of them. Not at first.>
That sounded ominous. What had he walked into?
They circled the town square a second time, but no one had further suggestions beyond a barbershop or similar place.
Tobias breathed a sigh of relief when they drove away from the town. So did Jackson. Tolya didn’t seem concerned, but he could turn into smoke and outmaneuver almost any adversary.
They didn’t speak. If Simon wasn’t expecting him, if he didn’t want to talk to Meg Corbyn in person about the Hope pup, Jackson would have shifted to Wolf and headed home on his own four feet, despite the distance.
• • •
Daniel Black swore fiercely as the wind slammed against the pickup. The dust that covered the road and filled the air was as thick as a mean bitch of a blizzard.
“Mr. Black?”His foreman braced a hand against the dash. “We have to stop. We’re not going to make it to the crossroads in time.”
“We damn well will make it,” Black snarled, fighting to keep the truck on the road. Fighting to see any part of the road. “The longer that community receives supplies, the longer they’ll hang on, and until they’re gone, we won’t have a way into those hills and the riches they hold.”
The men riding in the pickup’s bed pounded on the back of the cab.
“They can’t breathe in this dust,” the foreman said. “We have to stop.”
“We’re not—” A wall of fence posts and barbed wire suddenly appeared in front of him. Black slammed on the breaks and yelled, “Fuck!” as the truck became tangled in the posts and wire.
He threw the truck into park, then slammed his fist against the dash, over and over.
The wind died. The dust settled. Black listened to the men in the back struggling to sit up, struggling to breathe.
Should have been as easy as the last time, he thought as he saw the dust of at least one vehicle driving down the road to Prairie Gold.
He tried to open his door and swore when he realized he was trapped by the barbed wire. So was his foreman. They would have to wait for the men in the back to pull away the wire.
While he waited, he watched the pickup that belonged to the Prairie Gold ranch hesitate at the crossroads, as if whoever was driving was thinking of stopping to help. Then it drove on when four of his men climbed down from the truck bed.
“I’ll get the men started on restringing that wire,” the foreman said.
Black didn’t reply.
“Any word yet about the attack?”
“We’re supposed to wait until the special equipment from Cel-Romano arrives. Once the designated HFL chapters have that equipment, we’ll be ready to make a coordinated attack.” Black didn’t like taking orders from anyone, especially some slick prissy-boy from Cel-Romano. Scratch’s plans had worked just fine at first, but they’d started to unravel when the scandal broke about that farming association selling grains and feed to Cel-Romano that ranches and towns here needed. Without the feed to help the cattle through the coming winter, would he be expected to sell his beef at a loss because he wouldn’t be able to feed the whole herd? No, this next strike would drive the fucking terra indigene so deep into the wild country no one would need to kowtow to them again.
“We’ll wait for the order to attack.” Black opened the door that his men had freed from the barbed wire and posts. “Let’s get to work on those fences.”
• • •
Joe Wolfgard stood at the doorway of Tolya’s motel room and watched Prairie Gold’s residents drive up and form a line of vehicles, waiting for the fuel truck to fill the storage tanks at the gas station across the street.
