Ride On Read online

  I want to say I’m not an outlaw. “I can pay in either trade or coin,” I tell him instead. “Whichever you prefer.”

  “Coin.” He still doesn’t trust me but removes his hand from under the counter. It’s already better than most places I’ve come to. “I have enough things as it is and none of it’s worth anything around here. What is it that you need?”

  “Feed for my horse, if you have any, enough for a week. And seven ration bars for myself.”

  He nods again. “Just got a shipment in yesterday.”

  “Where from?”

  “Kev.” He spits on the floor. It falls with a heavy splat. “We get everything from Kev, but it don’t come cheap.”

  “How much?”

  “For what you need—three hundred.”

  I cringe, acting like I don’t have it. “I’ll give you one-fifty.”

  He shakes his head. “No good. It’s three hundred, or you walk. Like I said before, we don’t do donations here.” His hand disappears under the counter again.

  “How about I give you two hundred,” I tell him, “or you don’t get paid at all.”

  Again, he shakes his head. “You won’t make it to Kev without supplies. Two-fifty. I can’t go any lower than that, especially for someone like you. I have quotas to keep.”

  “Fine. I’ll take my chances or find someone who’ll take two hundred.” I turn to leave, making my steps determined and fast, giving him no time to think it over.

  I’m almost to the door when he says, “Hold it right there.”

  Cade stares at me from the bottom of the steps, ears perked. I feel the barrel of a gun pointed at my back, and a sigh almost escapes my lips.

  These people are so predictable.

  “Take three steps back and let me see those hands.”

  “I thought we could be reasonable about this,” I tell him, not moving. “My money is good as anyone else’s.”

  His steps echo around the counter and stop behind me, probably a couple feet away.

  “And that’s exactly why I’m taking it. You loners don’t belong here. You bring nothing but trouble.”

  “Now that’s where you’re mistaken,” I say. I crouch and spin, my pistol pressed up into his crotch before he has time to lower his gun to my head. He stiffens immediately. “It seems you’re the one bringing trouble. Not me.”

  I stare up at his wide eyes, my gun steadier than the blood pumping through him. “Now, are you going to trade with me like a civilized human, or am I going to have to shoot you?”

  His licks his dry lips. “I think two hundred will be fine. Just … don’t shoot me.”

  “And how do I know once I turn my back, you won’t do the same to me? We can both walk away from this unharmed. It’s up to you if there’s blood spilled on this floor.”

  The man drops his gun and raises his hands, palms out. “I won’t. I swear.”

  I stand and holster my gun, nodding back to the counter.

  He disappears to the back, his hands creating a symphony of crashing boxes and broken glass. Now that the man isn’t a threat to me, I can finally examine the shop. Sacks of grain and boxes of random tools and utensils line the walls. No space is unused. Fishing nets hang from the ceiling. Odd pieces of furniture crowd the corners.

  In a place where people don’t have much, nothing ever gets thrown out. The poorer they are, the more they hoard. This place is a cave full of unwanted treasure.

  It reminds me of pirates.

  Pirates have ships full of things people couldn’t even dream of. Ships that float on the ocean and are carried by the wind. I’ve never seen such a thing, but Dad used to tell stories before I fell asleep every night. He talked about things that never seemed real, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming about them. Water and light, waves that make sounds I’ve never heard.

  The ocean …

  The man says something behind me and I spin around, pulled from my thoughts, which seem to wander farther and farther every day.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you have the money?” he asks. Nervous again, thinking I may take it without paying him. Only outlaws do that, and I like to prove them wrong.

  “Oh, of course.” I reach into my bag and only take out what I need, not wanting him to see that I have more than what I claim. Once I hand him the thin pieces of paper, he puts my supplies on the counter. One small sack of feed and seven ration bars. Cade only needs a few handfuls a day to survive, something that has to do with the added protein and fiber—things I know nothing about—but there’s only a few days’ worth left. I stuff the bars into my bag and nod my thanks, grabbing the sack with the hand that’s not constantly hovering over my gun.

  “Wait.”

  I pause and look back. The man looks between me and the door. “Don’t linger here if you can help it. There’s a gang that runs this town, and if they hear of you, it won’t be good.”

  My heart tries to stay steady. “Have you seen them lately?”

  He hesitates and nods. “It may already be too late. We don’t get many travelers here and word spreads fast.” Then he says, “I’m sorry. I always have to expect the worst from strangers coming through town.”

  “I understand.” I nod once and walk out, my fingers white from holding the saddlebag so tight. Cade stomps the ground. I hear nothing yet, so I may be in the clear. I feed him a handful from my palm to reassure him and then go to secure the saddlebags, putting my money under his grain.

  Then I hear pounding hooves.

  My hands pause over the leather clasp, everything in me hoping they’ll pass by and aren’t who I think they are. Cade stops being restless and his ears go flat. I still have time before it’s too late.

  Swearing, I hook my foot into the stirrup and mount. The horses come from behind us. Closer now. I turn Cade down the street, pretending nothing is wrong, keeping him at a steady trot. We get about ten strides until a voice rings out.

  “Stop right there or I shoot you in the back,” he says. “It’s up to you, kid.”

  Cade stops, giving me a moment to clear my face and harness the adrenaline flowing through me. I can get out of this. I have before and I will again.

  I squeeze Cade with my right knee and he turns around to face the men behind us. There are seven of them. A good-sized gang to be going after a lone traveler like me.

  “I’m just passing through,” I say, making sure my voice doesn’t waver. “I’ve done my business and now I’m leaving.”

  I look them over, picking out the stronger ones and studying the leader. Most of them wear wide-billed hats and long coats. Bandanas hang around their necks and unshaven jaws. Even though I’m not downwind of them, I can smell them. Unwashed with dirty clothes.

  The man in the middle smiles, showing me his gold tooth. “You gotta pay the tax first. Nobody comes through town without paying.”

  “I don’t have any more money. And even if I did, I’m not paying any tax.” My hand rests near my holster—waiting. Gangs like this one make a living preying upon travelers. The same type of gang that murdered Dad in cold blood. Still, to this day, I haven’t forgotten the bald man with the scar along his scalp. I never will.

  “Everyone pays tax. If no tax …” He shrugs and brushes his coat away to reveal a gun. “It’s up to you, cowboy.”

  Cowboy.

  My mouth twitches and then I remember where I am.

  I have to get away from here, and quick. Some men in town are probably willing to help them stop my escape. Anything to get more money or food. There used to be laws. Ones where people couldn’t go around killing others or stealing.

  Before I can give the man my answer, a shout rings out nearby. It stops everything. An older man steps into the street, gun in hand. But instead of turning toward me like the others, he shows me his back, positioning himself between us and the riders. My hand freezes over my pistol.

  “Leave him alone, Durk,” the man says. “Don’t you have anything better to do than prey upon eve
ry traveler passing through town?” He points back at me without turning. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. And don’t give him that bullshit about some tax. We all know you’re full of it.”

  The gang leader’s eyes are crazed as he stares down at him. “If you don’t get out of my way, old man, you’ll receive the same fate as the kid. Or maybe your family will be punished instead.”

  The older man shakes his head, determined. “You’ve already killed my family. How can you not remember the people you’ve killed? You’re a monster. You’ll sooner become a man-eater than stop murdering.”

  “Because the people I kill don’t matter to me,” Durk says. “The ones I kill don’t deserve to live. Only the strong survive. Now get out of my way before I shoot you myself.”

  “No.” He stands tall despite being looked down on. “I will not let you kill another for your own gain.” The older man raises his gun and tilts his head back toward me. “Ride,” he tells me. “And ride fast. I can only stall them for so long.”

  “This isn’t your fight,” I tell him. “There’s no need for you to die.”

  “That’s up to me,” he says. The gang leader laughs without humor, still wary of the gun pointed at him. “It’s about time I help someone who doesn’t deserve this. Now, go.”

  I hesitate while Cade backs up, throwing his head and urging me to move. I try to hold him steady. The horses across from us snort, nowhere near as lively as Cade with their rough coats and protruding ribs. Still, they know a chase is coming.

  The older man yells again, “Go!”

  And I do. Cade swings around on his hind legs and shoots forward. Gunshots echo behind us, creating a scene I don’t have to see to figure out how it unfolds.

  They’re chasing us and coming fast. I give Cade the rein he needs to pull away. His ears are flat but his focus is forward, following the road that leads out of town. Stray bullets explode into the nearby buildings as we bolt past, some of them breaking the only windows still standing. The wind rushing into my ears drowns out their shouts.

  When we pass the last structure and come into open ground, I glance over my shoulder. Now with the buildings getting smaller and smaller, I don’t see the gang anywhere.

  It would be easy to say they gave up, that once they realized they couldn’t catch me, they headed back into town to wait for their next victim. But it’s always too good to be true. I turn back and urge Cade to keep going.

  When the road starts to bend, I realize why they’ve stopped following me. They’re going to cut me off. The only advantage they have is knowing the land, knowing I have no choice but to follow the road because of the steep ridge on the left side of us, created by the flash floods coming through this area.

  As the small hill disappears on my right, blocking my view of everything around me, I finally see the dust drifting into the air from the horses’ hooves. Cade is going fast, but it might not be fast enough.

  They see me and urge their horses faster, one of the riders pulling ahead of the others, whipping his horse with the reins. The flat plains loom in the distance before me. If we can get to flat ground, with no ridges and no towns, we’re gone. Their horses won’t be able to keep up.

  The wind howls and hooves pound the earth. I stretch low over Cade’s neck, my fingers digging into his coat to urge him on. The two roads connect up ahead. We’re flying across the land, yet not going fast enough. The riders appear larger as they close the distance between us. Their mouths open and close, yelling words to one another I cannot hear.

  The rider in front continues to pull away from them, lying flat on his horse in a way that mimics me. Cade gives one last burst of speed and we’re suddenly riding in front of them, leaving only mere feet between us and the horse behind us.

  He’s closing the gap.

  I see him from the corner of my eye, and when I glance over my shoulder, it’s already too late.

  The man jumps from the back of his horse and collides with me, curling his arms around my chest, causing me to pull the reins. Cade jerks and stumbles, sending us both to the ground. My shoulder explodes with pain when I fall and the man loses his grip on me, yelling out with pain of his own. I don’t have time to catch my breath or think.

  Yells and shouts grow louder in the wind as the gang catches up, kicking their half-starved horses to move faster than they should be able to. My rifle is still strapped to Cade’s saddle, along with the rest of my belongings—everything I own besides the clothes on my back and the pistol at my hip. He’s trotting back to me, seeming unhurt but shaken.

  For the first time since Dad died, I realize it’s over. Cade’s too far and they’re coming too fast. There’s a chance we could escape, but it’s slim and I can do only one thing right now.

  “Cade, go!” I shout at him. He stops short, his ears perked. It might be the last time I see him, and I don’t even have time to think about it. “Go!”

  He tosses his head and slowly backs away, not wanting to leave me. “Cade, go.”

  Finally, after what seems too long, he turns and gallops away as fast as we’d come.

  With Cade gone, I rush back to the man on the ground. He tries to get up but falls, holding his head where blood rushes from an unseen cut.

  This man is the only thing keeping me alive right now.

  I pull him to his feet and bend his arm behind his back, using him as a shield between me and the riders. With my free hand, I press my pistol against his throat. He doesn’t dare move as his gang surrounds us.

  They bring the noise and the dust with them. I stand steady and fight to keep my face clear of emotion. The leader, Durk, is the last of the riders. His eyes take one glance at me before searching the area.

  “Go find the horse before it gets any farther,” he yells at two of the men. “And be quick about it!” He dismounts, gun already in hand, and stares.

  The others wait around me with their guns drawn. Sweat rolls down my temple despite the cool wind.

  “Drop your gun, kid,” Durk says. “We both know you’re aren’t gettin’ out of this. And if you do it without a fight …” he shrugs, “maybe I’ll kill you sooner than later.”

  “And if you take one step closer, you’re going to have one less man on your crew. And don’t think you won’t be the next person I’ll be aiming at once he’s dead.”

  Durk cocks his head and smiles. “You really think I care about him enough to let you go?” He brings his pistol up and aims at the man’s chest instead of at me.

  My eyes narrow.

  The man fights against my grip, and I press the gun harder against his throat. “Durk, what are you doing?” he asks. “I’ve been on your crew for years. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “No, not really.” He pulls the trigger.

  The man jerks against me and then slumps to the ground, his blood already soaking into the dry dirt. I can only stare at him, barely believing his own boss killed him.

  With a half-dozen guns pointed at me, my own pistol hangs idly from my hand.

  It’s over.

  “How can you do that?” I ask. “How can you kill someone who’s unarmed? Someone who’s been loyal to you?”

  Durk steps forward, close enough for me to smell his foul breath. “Do I look like I care who I kill? My men work for me because I pay them. Loyalty has nothing to do with it. If Eddic here didn’t want to die,” he nudges his boot into the dead man’s shoulder, “he shouldn’t have gotten himself caught by you. You see? I didn’t kill him. He killed himself. And do you know who else will get himself killed by acts of foolishness today?”

  I normally use my fear and adrenaline to stay focused and calm. Keeps my hands steady when I need them to be. Not today. Not now when I can do nothing to save myself. It overcomes me and my hands threaten to shake. They haven’t shaken since Dad died.

  He wouldn’t want this for me. Wouldn’t want me to feel this way now that I’ve been beat. He would have wanted me to stay strong until the very end. And that’s w
hat I’ll do. For him.

  Keeping my back straight and forcing my hands steady, I look the man in the eye and say, “The only act of foolishness I’ve done today is believing someone like you could do something good.”

  “You’re full of yourself,” he says.

  I shrug. “At least I’m not like you.”

  He looks past my shoulder and nods. When I follow his gaze, all I see is the butt of a rifle.

  4.

  Avery

  The day starts out as a warm one. It makes me think that maybe winter isn’t coming as soon as we thought. But even so, it’s still dry outside, so we both head out with our bandanas around our necks in case we need them.

  Finn takes off toward the tracks, where the empty train waits to be loaded, and I start hauling manure from Jack’s lean-to to the greenhouse where I trade it for more potatoes. Then I feed Jack and brush his dark coat until it shines. When I finish, I slip a bridle over his head and jump onto his bare back. We don’t need to go into Kev today, but he gets restless if I don’t take him out.

  The clouds hang low, dark with a coming storm, but I leave my jacket inside, trying to enjoy the warmer weather before it leaves us for good. For a long while, I give Jack free rein. He takes me out of town and along the river, wetting his hooves along the shallow shore. When the wind picks up and blows dust from the dry ground, I move my bandana up around my nose and mouth and head back.

  Neither of us feel like riding in dust, but it was enough to stretch his legs.

  The mine is closed today so they can load the train before the Lawmen come. I follow the tracks on the outskirts of town, waving at the few people I see. As I’m passing by the Pole house, I see Darcy with her three-year-old son, Will, bringing in clothes from the drying line before it gets too dusty.

  Jack slows to a stop when Will runs up to us, his cheeks warm and red. I pull my bandana down now. The wind isn’t as cruel between buildings.

  “Hi, Will!”

  He smiles big. “Hi.”

  It’s rare when he says more unless he’s talking to his parents, but sometimes I’ll catch him mumbling words to Jack.