The Wolf Road (18 page)

“I told you, you son bitch, I told you,” I said. “Women ain’t yours for coin, ’specially me.”

He bared his teeth and ran at me. I didn’t have the strength in my belly or the clearness in my head to move quick out the way. He fell on me hard and got both his hands ’round my throat. Rage made him stupid and he didn’t even notice I still had my knife. He started wringing the life out a’ me, put all his weight on it, started grinning like he’d already killed me.

Men got one hell of a weakness, and when it ain’t their arrogance, it’s their dangling bits. I drove my knee right up into his. He groaned, grip went slack for less’n a second. My eyes were going sparkly ’gain and that water filled up my ears. He’d made a mistake, see, he had both his hands on my neck but I had mine free.

I whipped up my hand and dug my knife deep into the side a’ his neck. I looked him right in those beady hog eyes and I saw his life leave him, same as he saw his death coming. Saw that light flicker out like I was snuffing out a candle. He slumped down dead on top of me, so heavy it was like a foul-smelling tree felled right on my chest.

Just like that.

I ain’t never killed no one afore.

Seen that light go in deer or moose but never in a man. Weren’t that different really, ’cept the man deserved it.

I rolled him off me and lay there for a minute calming my heart. I was bloodied and bruised but breathing and still whole. My hands shaking, I buttoned up my trousers and tightened my belt. Tried to do up my shirt and coat but the bastard had ripped off the buttons. Girl in the crate was calling for me to get her out but I weren’t in the right mind for a rescue. I stood up on trembling legs and pulled my knife out the hog’s neck. Didn’t bother cleaning it. I was gonna be using it again real soon.

I left that hold with one thought in my head and no man or god could a’ stopped me.

Found Colby on deck, cigarette ’tween his fingers, standing ’gainst the railing at the back a’ the boat. Right where he said he’d be, lit up by the moon. Weren’t no one else around and I weren’t bothering stepping silent. Colby heard my steps, no doubt, but he didn’t turn, just kept staring out into the white water kicked out by the props.

“That was quick, Tony,” he said, “you must have liked her more than you let on.”

I stood right behind him, knife in a back-side grip, back of the blade running along my arm. Hate burning in me, turning all my sweat to steam, making the fat man’s blood sizzle.

“He didn’t like me much,” I said, and he spun around. Cig fell out his mouth.

I grabbed his scruff and shoved him back against the railing, other arm across his chest, knife to his throat. He put both his hands up high in surrender but I weren’t in no mood for mercy. His eyes was wide like he was looking at a devil crawled right out a’ hell. Blood streaked down my face, out my mouth, and my eyes was red with tears and rage. My chest was bare but for the blood and in truth I must a’ looked like some kind a’ monster.

“E-Elka,” he sputtered. “Shit, Elka, what did he do to you?”

I tilted my head to one side and thought, You really gonna try to run this line with me?

“You tell me,” I said.

“I don’t…” His eyes kept looking ’round for help or for a lie to pluck out the air. “I thought you’d like him, thought you two would get along. W-Where is he?”

“You wanted to set me up with a husband? Is that right?”

“Elka, please…let’s talk about this.”

This was goddamn priceless.

“Ten,” I said.

He scrunched up his forehead like I was speaking in a different tongue.

“I don’t think he’ll be makin’ any woman a husband anytime soon,” I said, and pushed the knife hard ’gainst his neck, “so I want them ten dollars he paid for me and all the rest what you got, you know, for my trouble. Quick.”

His hands fumbled about in his pocket. I held out my other hand and he dropped them coins right into my palm. I put them in my coat and smiled wide, showing off the blood ’tween my teeth. Now I had coin. Nothing else I needed from James Everett Colby.

“Is…is he dead?” he asked.

“What do you think?” I said, and I took a step back, let the blade off his throat. I let him take a breath, let him think for a second I’d done with him. I spun the knife ’round in my hand then smacked him square in the side a’ the head with the horn butt a’ my handle. He cried out but weren’t no one ’round to hear him. Dazed, he stumbled ’gainst the railing. I grabbed him by the collar, fished out his cabin key from his pockets, then put my head right close to his ear.

“I hope you can swim,” I said. Using all the strength I had left, I flung that skinny man over the railing, right into the foaming wake. Barely made a splash. No shouts a’ “Man overboard,” no one come rushing to see what the fuss was over, no one on this boat cared for the loss a’ that man.

I could a’ stuck him or slit his throat afore sending him to the waves and I thought I might at one point but when I saw him and looked him in the eye, fear stayed my hand. Not fear a’ Colby a’ course, but fear for me. Fear for what it might do to me to watch that light go out again. Colby no doubt would a’ killed me first chance he got, but he weren’t right that moment. That hog man had been crushing the life out a’ me and would a’ taken more’n that if I let him. I did what any animal would do. I fought for myself. That’s when a kill is lawful in my eyes, when it’s him or me. Weren’t like that with Colby. If I’d killed him right there on that railing, no weapon in his hand, I’d be no better’n Kreagar.

Little bit a’ doubt crept up and sat on my shoulder. Maybe I should a’ made sure he was dead. I stared out into that black water, didn’t see no flailing arms nor hear no shouts for help. That water was colder’n snow, ain’t no way he could a’ lived through it.

Water killed him. Not me. And that’s the way I left it.

All my fierce left me. My body started shaking, my head started pounding like a boy just got a drum for his birthday. I fell down on my knees on the deck, hanging my hands off the railing, and breathed in slow and long. Pain hit me something wicked then, rushing through my stomach to my back, my chest, my head. I stared at the black water, spiked up with foamy white, and thought about jumping in right behind Colby. But I weren’t no quitter. No wolf nor bear just gives up when they get beat or hungry. You ever seen a bear jump off a cliff ’cause life handed him a few rough draws? No, you haven’t. The wild keeps going till it don’t have strength in its muscles and bones. The wild don’t give up; it’s forever, and so was I.

I made my way slow back to the cargo hold. Soon as I walked in, the smell of blood and bowels came at me hard and I didn’t have a chance a’ stopping it. I threw up everything in my gut behind a pile a’ boxes.

Felt better after that.

Found the crowbar by the door and went to the girl’s crate, trying not to look at the hog man’s body, unzipped and standing to attention.

“You alive in there?” I said to the box.

Heard scrambling and her hand poked out one a’ the holes. “Please. Get me out of here.”

I looked quick at myself, all the blood and the purple-black bruise across my belly, thought I better warn her. Girls scare easy.

“I don’t look…” I said, and a wave a’ sickness hit me from the rocking boat. “Don’t be screamin’ or nothin’.”

My ribs didn’t like me for it, but I dug the crowbar into the join and levered up each corner a’ the girl’s box. I threw the lid off and saw her, dressed in frills and flowers, kneeling in the middle of the crate. She had pillows and a bottle of water. She was bought and paid for, all right.

“Any left in that?” I asked, pointing to the bottle.

She handed it to me, staring openmouthed, and said, “Just a few drops.”

I gulped it down, swilling it ’round my mouth, and spat out some a’ the acid and blood taste.

“Come on,” I said, “you got to help me with him.”

She climbed slow out the box like she’d just learned to walk. Reed of a girl, arms thinner’n saplings and body to match. Light yellow hair and twinkling hazel eyes. No wonder Colby didn’t want the hog man grunting on top a’ her. She was a goddamn peach and worth far more to them types a’ men than I was.

“God,” she said, looking at the dead man, then back to me, “are you all right?”

I didn’t say nothing. Truth was I weren’t all right. I weren’t even close to all right and I had doubts I ever would be again.

I leaned up ’gainst a crate, catching my breath, and she came closer. Taller’n me.

“I heard it all,” she said, voice so clean I could hear all them letters. “I’m sorry.”

I frowned then. “Weren’t your fault.”

She had a soft smile, smile a’ someone who’s lived an untroubled life. “I know. I can’t believe you killed him.”

Then her face turned panic. “James. He’ll be coming back soon. We should go.”

I shook my head. “Colby gone swimmin’.”

“Did you…?”

Shook my head again and said, “He was breathin’ when he went in the water.”

She opened her mouth to say something but I spoke first. “Them pins in your dress,” I said, pointing to the ribbon ’round her waist. “Give ’em here.”

She looked where I was pointing. “These? Why?”

Damn idiot, I thought, and held open my shirt. “Don’t fancy flashin’ the world my tits is why.”

She blushed up something comic and quick handed ’em over, turning ’round to give me a touch a’ privacy.

Once I was decent, I nodded to the dead man. “We got to get him in one a’ these crates.”

Her eyes went wide and she burst out laughing.

“Ain’t no joke, girl,” I said. “You want him found while we’re still on this boat?”

Her smile turned dark. “How do you propose we lift
that
into a crate?”

Big damn idiot. “We ain’t gonna lift him. You soft in the head or somethin’? Get that sheet.”

I nodded to one a’ the tarps covering a group a’ boxes. She wandered over there, arms crossed over her chest and, like she didn’t want to be touching anything, took that tarp ’tween finger and thumb. I watched her struggling to pull it down, and to tell the truth, I didn’t know right what to make a’ her.

“You kiddin’ me?” I said, and she looked at me like I was talking foreign.

“It’s stuck,” she said, tugging it like she was teasing a thread out her skirts.

“Goddamn, there’s more strength in a mewlin’ babe just pulled out his momma than there is in all a’ you.”

I went over to her and took that sheet full in both hands. Pulled it and it came away easy. I was giving it some swagger, to tell the truth. I shouldn’t a’ pulled it that hard. My ribs ground ’gainst each other and sent my arms and legs shaking.

“Bring it over here,” I said, blinking away the pain best I could.

“I still don’t know how we’re going to get him into a crate. He’s a whale, we don’t stand a chance of lifting him,” she said, and I called her an idiot again in my head.

“Just do what I says and don’t get girly ’bout it.”

She sighed through her nose and the sound of it got right into my ear. She brought the tarp over and dumped it in a heap. Soon as we put the hog in his box, I’d get as far away from this waste a’ space as I could.

“What now?” she said.

I went over to the end a’ her crate as it was a mite smaller’n mine and nodded her to get to the other end.

“We gonna tip it on its side,” I said, hoping my ribs would forgive me. “Quietlike.”

She frowned deep and looked from body to crate to tarp to me. Quick the frown lifted and a look a’ surprise came over her. Goddamn lightbulb went off in her head, I could see the light flashing out her eyes. Weren’t nothing else in that skull a’ hers to stop it.

“Clever,” she said, and took hold a’ the crate.

Together we laid the box down, open side in line with the dead man. The girl knew my thoughts afore I had time to tell her and she was already laying out the tarp. One end inside the box, one end up ’gainst the body.

Both a’ us knelt on the same side a’ him. That’s when she got real girly.

“It’s just a body,” I said, “just meat and bones. Damn bastard deserved it, no question.”

Flashes of his weight on my chest hit me. Heard his breath in my ears, grunting and quick, the smell a’ his slobber still on my skin. My heart was heaving and I found myself staring at the hole I cut in his gut, wishing I could cut another.

“It’s not that,” the girl said. Her voice soft and sweet brought me out the dark. “Let’s be rid of him.”

She did something then that surprised me no end. She stood up and shimmied out a’ her dress. Folded it nice and laid it on top another crate. She stood there in her panties and bra and I didn’t know right where to look.

“What in the hell are you doin’?” I said.

“I don’t want to get blood on my dress. I’ll never get the stains out.”

Trapper always said an outfit ain’t complete without bloodstains, and he’d come back with fresh ones least once a week. I didn’t say nothing ’bout it to her, just nodded and tried not to look.

She knelt back down and didn’t seem squeamish ’bout touching him no more. She dug her hands into his pockets, rummaged around and pulled out a handful a’ coin. She stacked it neat next to her dress and nodded to me. Together we rolled the hog onto the tarp. Next part was easier. We lifted the ends of the tarp and rolled him right into the box. He made a wet slapping sound like flogging a bag a’ eels and I smiled all the way. We shoved the tarp into the box with him, covered him up best we could.

With the crowbar I pried the nails out my crate lid and took ’em over to the hog’s box. One for each corner. I got the girl to hold the lid in place. Few quick hits and the hog was sealed up ready for shipping to God knew where.

“Them folks at the other end a’ the lake are gonna have a shock when they open this expectin’ to find you,” I said.

“I hope they choke on him,” she said, and I didn’t figure words that bitter could come out a face so pretty.

She spotted something hooked up on the wall and said, “Stand over there, out the way.”

I did and she took down a hose and starting spraying the deck. The blood and shit washed away, down drains and ’tween the boards. Seemed strange, all that hurt and hate and bile, gone with just a splash a’ water. It weren’t perfect, but it weren’t quite as obvious now neither. We washed our hands and my face and my knife and she finally put her dress back on. I looked down at my hands, saw ’em shaking, saw black in ’em, like they weren’t my hands no more. Colby and his fella put something dark in me, like when I drove my knife into the hog’s belly it was driving something into mine at the same time. Felt it in there, squirming, growing. Didn’t feel like me no more. Tears came up in my eyes and I let them go. Let them fall down my cheeks and into my ripped up collar. Stood there swaying and couldn’t right figure where I was in the world. Was I still by that lake? Breathing in whatever poison mucked up my mind? I wanted bad to believe that none a’ this had happened, that that hog man hadn’t done what he done and I hadn’t done what I done.