“I’ll go see him,” Eric said at last. “I won’t promise I’ll stay there a whole day.”
“As you please. My business with you and your father is concluded when you set eyes upon each other. I wasn’t contracted to be your guardian angel.”
“Fair enough,” the young man agreed.
Ann suddenly said, “Lawson! She’s coming around!”
At once Lawson was on his feet and walking back along the car toward where Blue lay. Ann was kneeling at her side and the conductor was standing over her. He moved aside to let Lawson kneel down. The aroma of dried blood in the packed wound hit Lawson with a force that no one else in the car could possibly understand. His face tightened. His lower jaw wanted to unhinge and the fangs to slide out from the upper. The images of destroying everyone here in a fury of insane greed wanted to further unhinge the iron door of the crypt he carried with him to protect weak humans just like these.
Blue’s eyes fluttered. She was as pallid as death, and already she looked to Lawson as she might if she were turned…and yet, if she were turned she would never need worry about lead bullets again. They might hurt, but they could never kill.
“Water,” Blue whispered.
A leather-covered canteen was offered from an age-spotted hand with crooked knuckles.
Lawson took it. He unscrewed the cap and as gently as possible put the canteen to Blue’s lips. She was able to drink just a little, but most ran down her chin. Lawson handed the canteen back. “Thank you,” he said.
“Sorry she’s in such a bad way,” said the conductor. He returned the canteen to a shelf above where he usually sat. “Which one of them fellas shot her?”
“The one who used to have a gunhand,” Ann said.
“Somebody talkin’ about me?” Rebinaux spoke up. “Hell, ain’t my fault Deuce pushed her! I weren’t aimin’ to shoot no saloon girl!”
“But you did,” the conductor answered. “I ought to come over there and knock a few teeth outta that dumb-lookin’ face.”
“Come on then, pappy!” Rebinaux started to get out of his seat. He was grinning like a pure fool but there was meanness in his mouth. “I’ll bust yore ass with one gotdamn hand!”
“Sit down.” Mathias reached up and took hold of Rebinaux’s jacket sleeve. The man’s voice was a weak ghost of what it had been at the first of the evening. “There’s no point in that, Johnny.”
Rebinaux jerked away. His cheeks had reddened and his overhanging brow seemed even lower than a few seconds before. “No point? No point? Hell, we’re all bound for Mexican neckties and we’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’? Jesus eatin’ hominy, Deuce! You’re supposed to be lookin’ out for us! In the old days we’d storm this bunch and turn ’em guts-side out! We’d take this whole damn train over! And look at us, Keene!” he said to his other companion, trying to pull him into this fray. “We’re the saddest sacks ever sittin’ in shitty britches!” Presco responded by staring at the floorboards. “Well,” Rebinaux raved on, “you can both go all hangy-dog but at least I can knock a damn old man into next week!”
“Come on yourself, sweetpea!” The conductor smiled, though his face was also blooming red and his white eyebrows were dancing. He turned to fully face his adversary. His hands had become fists, and he planted his feet like a man who would not be moved. “One wallop from Glorious George Gantt and your head’ll be on the moon ’fore mornin’!”
“Sit down,” Mathias repeated.
“Seems we ought to clean house startin’ with that punk!” Rebinaux showed his bad green teeth at Eric Cavanaugh. “I told you we shouldn’t oughta take him on! Look what he’s brung us!”
“Sit down, Dixie,” said the vampire. He stood up and drew back his coat to show his two guns. Of course no one but Ann knew that the Colt with the grip of yellowed bone, sitting backwards in Lawson’s holster on his left side, was loaded with six silver bullets blessed with holy water by Father John Deale. The silver angels could kill a human, yes, but they were meant to penetrate the skull of a member of the Dark Society and in so doing burn the creature’s body to a fine ash. Within Lawson’s coat was a derringer that also carried two of the consecrated bullets. “Down,” he repeated, putting a hand on the pistol with the rosewood grip.
“You ain’t gonna shoot an unarmed man!” Rebinaux spat back. “You ain’t got the stones for that!”
“You and I measure courage in different ways. Ann, which ear should I take off?”
“Gentlemen,” said a hollow voice. “Please.”
Eli Easterly had risen to his feet. He came along the aisle slowly, and though the train was moving at a good clip now and the car was rocking a few degrees back and forth he kept his balance well, not needing to touch any seatback as he passed. He positioned himself between Lawson and Rebinaux. “I have no idea what’s transpired here,” he said, “but violence is never an answer.” His sad gray eyes in the gray face under the gray but carefully-combed hair were fixed upon Lawson. “You’re an intelligent man. You understand the futility of violence.”
“I understand it’s sometimes unfortunately necessary.”
“Perhaps. But I doubt it’s necessary to deprive anyone present of an ear.” He turned his head toward Rebinaux. “You should sit down, sir. God is in this place. He will protect, if you allow Him.”
“I don’t need protection! I need a damn horse and two hours head start!”
Easterly nodded. “Even so,” he said quietly.
The moment hung. Then Rebinaux made a farting sound with his mouth toward Glorious George Gantt. He said, “You can all go straight to Hell and roast your nuts! You too, lady! And you most of all, ya coward!” After making this statement to Deuce Mathias he staggered across the aisle and sat by himself on a seat toward the front.
Easterly came forward a few more paces to look down upon Blue, who was making small whimpering sounds but appeared to be for the most part unconscious again. “Wound near the heart,” he said. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”
“She has,” Lawson answered.
“Dr. Fossenhurst couldn’t remove the bullet?”
“No. We’re taking her to the hospital in Helena.”
“And these men?”
“Bound for Cheyenne. Wanted for crimes in the territory.”
“Ah. You and the young lady are the law?”
“In a way.”
A faint smile pulled at the corners of the man’s mouth, but his eyes remained cold. “I thought I recognized you for what you are on the trip up. I’ve seen many of your kind, but this is the first time I’ve met a female bounty hunter.” He gave Ann a slight nod.
“We have a job to do.” Lawson decided not to try to correct the man as to their true mission. “We intend to do it with no further violence. About Dr. Fossenhurst…are you a friend of his?”
“Not exactly. He wrote a letter to me informing me of…” The gray eyes blinked, and the faint smile was gone. “A tragedy in my family.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Easterly,” Lawson said, and immediately he realized what mistake the need for blood and all this aroma of gore had done to his senses.
Eli Easterly’s face remained blank. His head cocked slightly to one side, as if he were trying to puzzle out exactly what he was looking at. “I don’t recall telling you my name,” he said.
“Didn’t you?” Lawson asked, himself feeling as if his world was rapidly spinning out of control.
“No, I did not.”
“Surely you—”
“No.” Easterly’s right hand slid into his coat. It emerged again holding a small unornamented silver crucifix, which he clasped to his chest. “It’s Reverend Easterly,” he said, and Lawson felt the drawing of some sharp blade between them. Red embers of a fire had begun to ignite deep in the man’s eyes. Lawson thought He doesn’t know, but he senses—