Just Cause Universe 2: The Archmage (19 page)

Sally went out into the passage to look for the group of shooters. An icy breeze came from the open door at the end of the coach where a cluster of men had rifles out and laughed as they shot. Suddenly, the ghostly form of Shannon rose up in their midst. She dragged her fingers across her face, distorting it into a frightful mask, and screamed at them.

The men screamed likewise, and leaped from the train in fear, tumbling into the deep snowdrifts alongside the tracks. They made no effort to get back on the train as it pushed resolutely on past the slow-moving herd. Shannon solidified and looked very pleased with herself.

“
That’ll
show them,” she said with glee. “Did you see their faces?”

Sally frowned. “They could die out here, you know.”

Shannon shrugged. “Seems a fair trade to me. Assholes.”

“It’s not right!”

Shannon’s eyes narrowed. “
Everyone
has to die sometime, Sally. Not one person we’ve seen this entire trip is alive in
our
time.”

“Yeah, but leaving them in the snow is pretty cruel.”

“Not as cruel as shooting buffalo for sport. It’s not like they were hunting for meat or something. Don’t you know the buffalo were almost hunted to extinction during this time period?”

“Sure, but they came back. There are
lots
of them in
our
time.”

“So that makes it okay that these guys were just shooting them?”

“Of
course
it doesn’t. But it isn’t any better for those guys to freeze to death.”

Shannon paused, looking over Sally’s shoulder at the horizon. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” she said quietly. Sally turned to look.

Four horsemen sat atop a ridge. It was hard to make out details at this distance, but their long dark hair, buckskin outfits, and unsaddled horses left little to the imagination. They began to ride downward toward the men in the snow.

“No wonder they hated us so much,” whispered Shannon.

“Shouldn’t we
do
something?” Sally couldn’t help but feel sorry for the men as they floundered around in the snow and tried to run after the train in spite of their scare.

“Look, what’s done is done. If they’re meant to survive, they’ll tell their grandkids about the ghost they saw on a train once. If they’re not meant to, what business is it of ours to interfere?”

“We
already
interfered. Or rather, you did.”

“What’s going on, girls?” asked Juice as he stepped up behind them.

“Nothing, sir,” said Shannon.

Juice raised an eyebrow at Sally.

“Nothing.” She felt her friendship with Shannon was starting to grow a little strained.

“Well, then let’s get this
nothing
back inside where it’s a bit warmer,” said Juice as he guided the two of them back into the car.

The remainder of the trip to Denver was uneventful, if snowy. Sally and Shannon avoided speaking to one another about Shannon’s actions on the train. When they’d stepped off the train into a chill wind carrying minuscule ice crystals, Will and Ace went to see about renting or buying a wagon and team and outfitting it for travel across the snowy plains. Juice, Shannon, and Sally pored over maps of the region as they tried to figure out exactly where the team’s headquarters would be a hundred and thirty years later. They would have to place Sally’s horseshoe where she would find it in the future. Once they did that, Will and Tesla had agreed that it would be the best possible chance for them to return to their own time.

Nobody talked about Sally’s fear that she was destined to die. It was constantly in the back of her mind though, yammering to be let loose like a prisoner in chains.

Will returned without Ace, carrying his guitar case as if it were an extension of his own body. “Congratulations, we are now the proud owners of a Benchley and Rowe covered wagon with a pair Clydesdales.” He winked. “Same as the beer company.”

“Where is it, uh, parked?” asked Juice.

“There’s a shop just up the street. Ace is supervising while the owner finishes outfitting it for us.”

“How much money is left?”

Will extended his hand and dumped a handful of coins into Juice’s upturned palm. “Enough for souvenirs. Not much beyond that, I’m afraid.”

“
This magnificent feast represents the last of the petty cash
,” quoted Sally, turning to Jack’s favorite standby movie
Ghostbusters
. She missed him terribly, as well as Sondra and Jason and everybody else. Now that they were so close to reaching the end of their journey, she really felt the rift of time between her and her dearest friends.

“Let’s go have a look at this wagon,” said Shannon.

They hurried up the road, keeping well away from the deep, ruts lined with frozen mud and horse dung. They passed several shops and a couple taverns on the way, all cheerfully lit with hanging lamps and the smoke pouring from chimneys promising warmth and comfort within. Sally shivered, wondering if she’d
ever
be warm again.

Benchley and Rowe was a large building with a tall façade and a lot fenced with split rails. Numerous horse-drawn contrivances were parked within it from basic haulers all the way up to fancy coaches. The proprietor was a fat man with a fringe of oily black hair, a gleaming bald pate, and cheeks reddened from exertion. A deeper, more pronounced redness around his nose spoke of much strong drink.

“Ah, good day t’ ye, friends!” The man had a rich Irish brogue that immediately made them feel at ease. “Yer lovely companion said ye’d be arrivin’ momentarily. Ay’ve just been takin’ care o’ last-minute adjustments. If ye’re sure ye’ll be travellin’ in such weather as this, ye’ll need the best that Patrick Benchley can provide. Sure an’ that’s me name…” He rushed behind the counter and emerged with an armful of leather tack and hurried into the back of the store.

Shannon grinned. “He sounds
exactly
like my grandmother.”

“He sent his assistant to go fetch the horses from the stables. Aren’t Clydesdales the really big horses?” asked Ace.

“Yep,” answered Shannon. “They’re the SUVs of horses. We should get where we’re going with them doing the hard work.”

Benchley stuck his head through the door. “Young Thomas just arrived wi’ yer horses. We’ll have ye ready in two shakes o’ the lamb’s tail.” He vanished again.

“He’s certainly eager to help,” commented Sally.

“I kind of get the impression that this is his slow time of year,” said Will. “I think we’ve spent more money here than anyone in months. Now all we have to do is find the right spot.”

“Not much in the way of landmarks or GPS to help us, unfortunately,” grumbled Juice. “We’ll just have to get there by dead reckoning. Ace, I’m going to count on you to figure the distance and direction. You’re probably the most experienced that way.”

The diminutive Israeli woman nodded.

“Shannon, you’re driving the team. I’ll ride up front with you and keep watch. Sally, stay under the tarp and keep that horseshoe safe. Will…” Will’s face broke into a cheerful, slightly zany grin. “Will, do whatever it is you need to do to prepare. I’d like to have a hot shower and sleep in a bed tonight.”

“Amen to
that
,” said Shannon.

Benchley came bustling back into the front room of the shop. “All ri’, gentles… yer wagon’s all loaded an’ the team is hitched. Ay’m certain ye’ll find it all in order. If ye’ll follow me? Bundle up, though… it’s ri’ cold out back, and the snow’s pickin’ up.” His bald head shone with a fine sheen of sweat from his hustling. He wrapped a thick wool scarf around his neck and jammed a beaverskin cap down over his ears. Thus accoutered, he led them through the cluttered back of the shop into the yard beyond.

The snow was really starting to fall and the wind likewise had picked up. Benchley beamed like a kid at Christmas as he cuffed the boy who fiddled with the horses’ harnesses. “Well? What d’ye think?”

Painted in a fine, glossy black, the wagon seemed to glow in the darkness of the day amid the snow. Fine filigree in gold leaf decorated the panels in between the vertical supports holding up the large canvas cover. The wheels had small steel rivets nailed into them for increased traction in the snow.

The wagon would have seemed overly large if not for the gigantic horses harnessed to it. “
Look
at the
size
of those things,” whispered Sally to Juice. “I bet they weigh a ton each.” She stepped up to one of them hesitantly. She barely came up to its shoulder. It lowered its head and blew out a lungful of steamy breath which smelled sweet, like hay in the summer.

“Go on, miss… ‘e won’t ‘urt ye!” The boy grinned.

“Uh, what do I do?” Sally looked up at the massive beast that regarded her with some sort of equine interest.

“Give ‘im a lump o’ sugar, or an apple, if you ‘ave one.”

“Oh… I don’t. I’m sorry.” Sally felt crestfallen as she looked into the mournful eyes of the horse. The boy stepped over to her and pressed an apple into her hands. He nodded as she held it up gingerly. The behemoth stretched his neck down and took the apple gently from her hand. Sally looked at the others and grinned. “What are their names?”

“Whatever ye want, miss,” said Benchley.

“But I calls ‘em Sampson and Delilah,” said the boy. “Sam and Delly for short.” He ducked a poorly-aimed blow from Benchley.

“Well, everything seems to be in order,” said Will. “I suppose we’ll be on our way then. Thanks for doing such a bang-up job on short notice, Mr. Benchley.” He handed the last of their cash to the proprietor, who made it disappear.

“My pleasure, sir. I hope ye have a safe trip. The weather’s not much good for travelin’ now.”

“We’ll be fine, Mr. Benchley, and thanks again.” said Juice.

Shannon swung up onto the driver’s bench. Juice joined her. The others climbed up the short ladder in the back of the wagon and under the canvas cover.

The boy ran to pull open the barn doors while Benchley shouted some last-minute suggestions at them. “Light the lamps; they’ll give ye a bit o’ heat for those inside. There’s blankets and furs aplenty for ye too.”

Sally waved at the boy as the two horses pulled the wagon out of the barn into the lazily swirling snow. He waved back. She drew the flap at the back of the wagon shut. Will lit the oil lamps hanging from the overhead frame with a single strum on his guitar. Ace grabbed one of the blankets from the floor and wrapped herself in it as tightly as she could, then pushed out through the front to stand behind Shannon and Juice, squinting into the wind.

“That way,” she said in a moment, pointing to the right. “I saw bridges across the Platte as we came into town. Once we cross one of them I’ll have a better sense of where we are. What I wouldn’t give for a decent modern landmark.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to complain about that if this doesn’t work,” chuckled Will as he lounged back against the sideboard and ran his fingers quietly across the guitar frets.

“Don’t even
joke
about this not working,” admonished Sally. “We’ve
got
to get back.”

“Don’t worry, Sally. All we have to do is get that horseshoe to the right location and then it’s
sayonara
,
1876
.” Will smiled.

The Clydesdales were sure-footed despite the accumulation of snow and had no problem pulling the wagon, although they didn’t move fast enough to please anyone. Sally, especially, felt impatient and Juice banished her to the back of the wagon after the fourth time she’d popped out of the front flap to check on their progress.

“Are we there yet?” she grumbled to herself.

A couple of hours passed and the sky darkened as the sun dropped behind the mountains. Soon it was dark enough that Juice called a halt for the night. “Without landmarks and the sky clouded over, we’ve got no way of knowing where we are for certain. It would be foolish to flounder around in the darkness out here. We’ll camp here and find our departure spot in the morning.”

“
Early
morning, I hope,” muttered Sally. “I’m ready to
shave
my hair off as it is. I’d kill for a bottle of detangling conditioner.”

Shannon laughed from the driver’s seat and stood up.

Suddenly Sally’s perceptions accelerated until the world seemed to be frozen in place. She didn’t understand why; something had happened that she’d missed, at least on a conscious level. She looked around the wagon; nothing out of place. Will’s eyes were half closed and he was locked in a loving embrace with his guitar. Ace was rummaging around in the bag of food. Juice had pushed aside the flap and was moving into the back of the wagon. Shannon was standing on the driver’s seat, an odd expression on her face.

A slender feathered shaft protruded from her chest.

Sally screamed and pushed past Juice in a blur of motion. Shannon was already starting to topple off the wagon as Sally reached her. She slapped two more arrows out of the air before they could strike her friend. Another arrow splintered in slow motion against Juice’s tough skin.

Ululating yells echoed around the wagon as several horsemen rode in on them. Sally dragged Shannon into the comparative safety of the wagon, and ducked under another hail of arrows. She forced herself to slow down enough to make herself understood. “
Help her!
” she hissed at Will, who looked stunned at the sudden turn of events.

Frustrated at her inability to move in the thick layers of clothing, Sally shrugged out of them until she only wore her corset, shift, and pantaloons. When she and Shannon had shopped for clothes, she’d made a special effort to find a corset compatible with physical activity. She took the extra half second to lace her boots back up, because she was going to need protection for her feet. She figured that she could act fast enough not to freeze to death for the seconds she’d be in the snow. To the others it would have seemed as if Sally’s clothing simply exploded off her as she jumped through the flap and off the wagon.

She tucked and rolled as she hit the snow and kicked up a big cloud from the speed of her impact. She took a moment to look around and mark the opposition: seven men on horseback, all with long dark hair and various feathers, beads, and baubles decorating their garments. Three of them carried long rifles and the others were armed with spears and bows.