The Time Rippers Book 3: Food For The Gods by Pete Bertino - HTML preview

PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR.

DEDICATION: FOR BERT I GORDON AND HIS AWESOME MOVIES

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Qcalc Coordinates 34.39329-104.21531

Fort Sumner, NM 04_09_1906 (ALerd UVErse 4)

As Butch Cargill screamed out the last words of his prayer, Halley White Feather tasted the scream and the blood from Butch. Halley sat up from his sleep quickly for an old man nearing 80. His frail body shook, as cold sweat dripped from him and the death screams echoed in his skull.

He looked out through his window on the night time sky remembering when he had last woken like this. A quarter century ago it had been, and the sky had been filled with green lightning and whipping winds turning the world into a sand storm. That night wasn’t long after the massacre at the Pecos river, and he had hardly slept much since. The earth had shaken so hard he thought the Sky God himself had actually come down from above to crack open the land in a rage.

He tried to ride his horse but the lightening had frightened it badly Halley instead walked to where the green bolts had struck. He wasn’t sure why he had to go there at the time, but it was his gift, his second sight that drew him towards there. He didn’t what he was going to find, certainly not a machine that called itself Bob.

It walked with out taking steps, he looked down and saw it was rolling on wheels and held up some kind of object that made very little sense to him. Its face was a picture on a dark window.

And without speaking it showed him things, horrible things that would come to pass. The one called Bob held out the object with a pair hands that looked like pincers on insect but were made of metal and looked as greasy as the wheels on a bicycle chain.

Bob told him years would pass, and they did. And that death would come, and it had. In his dream he saw the two men being eaten. It was the same place the green bolts had struck 25 years earlier, right where the silver mine was located. The dream he had awoken from was leaving a sour taste in his mouth, his stomach churned at the taste of blood and fear.

It had begun with random men dying from unknown causes, then his nephew Red Feather who had been working there since it opened had disappeared one night during his shift. Halley had spoken briefly to Sheriff McCarty about the situation, though he had nothing to offer the lawman about Red. He had been missing for many days now and was believed to have died.

For the last few nights Halley had been having dreams about Red Feather and knew he was still alive. Red Feather’s children, Daniel and Dawn may or may not have given up on him, when his

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wife died he began to drink. Halley had given up years before that because of the massacre and because of Rachael, Red’s wife.

Red Feather had met her in town at church, where Rachael, who was the niece of the minister, taught Sunday school to the children. They had fallen in love and wedded after a year of courting, he had even changed his name to Rex Winder and took up work as an every man in Sumner, a town which had it’s own variety of people didn’t care that he was a red. When Halley was that age though, that kind of relationship outside of a whore house would have been unheard of. Much had changed since Halley’s boyhood years, not a lot of it had been good.

Once upon a time near the silver mine in the mountain at its base, there had been just a small pile of rocks for young boys such as he and his brothers used to build a fort acting as heroes in one of grand mothers tales. The small pile had grown to a wall wide enough for a man to walk on and and high enough to see the lights back in town and extended a quarter mile. It had been built from the rocks dug out of the mountain where the silver laid below.

He would never forget when there was only that mountain, dirt and brush and a blue sky clear and unmarred by the black stink of machines, spewing their sickness on everything. Digging the marrow out of mother earth. The pain of that thought though paled to the fright he felt now, as he quickly dressed.

Halley stepped outside of his tiny four wall domicile into the chilly desert air that sent goose bumps across his flesh in waves. He looked towards the dusky red light of a camp fire a mile or so in the distance where the mine laid. His horse was stubborn at first for being woken up, but got Halley there swiftly.

He dismounted at the edge of the rock wall and entered the fire light slowly on foot then stopped when he saw the bloody entrails of the man whose eyes he had been seeing through just a short while ago. At the mines entrance was a set of ribs still filled with meat, a hip bone and part of a leg was laying bent in a pool of purplish red blood, flies had already began to buzz at the ripped apart body despite the chilly night.

Halley stared at the gruesome puddle, but it was seeing the fire light reflecting in the pool of fluid that caused him to bend over and vomit. That reflection in the blood was the first image Bob had shown him long ago, it had warned him what would come next. Halley wiped his mouth with a shaky and wrinkled forearm and walked closer into the light, he felt the darkness of the desert closing in on him.

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He saw the firelight again and felt his stomach heave and fought from having to spew up any more bile, as he had very little in his stomach to start with. A sudden nefarious laughter filled the night in his mind and in his ears.

“You didn’t get sick when your sons died, did you, uncle?” said his nephew Rex from the darkness.

Halley looked behind him but saw nothing, not even starlight. It was deathly quiet before Rex spoke again, startling Halley.

“Are you afraid, uncle?” he asked in his native language.

“I have no fear of a coward.” Halley said standing up straight.

There was no response at first, then a pair of green malevolent beastly eyes shined in the darkness behind the rock wall where he stood just a moment ago. A low throaty growl came from the grotesque animal as another pair of emerald eyes appeared next to it, Halley walked just a few feet to the other side when another deep growl rang out. On the other side of him were two more of the freakish beasts, standing just out of the darkness.

“You should choose your words more carefully, uncle.” said Rex coming into the light.

Halley noticed the similarity between his eyes and those of the beasts. It was another sight Bob showed him that wanted to turn his stomach. He had called his nephew a coward, simply because he believed that Rex had been. Many had left the tribe in fear of the blue coats, going farther west instead or south into Old Mexico.

Halley, one of the high chiefs, gathered all the men and boys old enough to fight. They rode to a ranch home Rex had built for his white wife, and they came armed to the teeth with pistols, rifles, blades, bows, and arrows. They had been within shouting distance when they saw his wife Rachael standing on the porch. He had refused to even speak with them or show his face, only Rachael was there and spoke for him. Although she was white, she was darker skinned than most whites, and was not fair haired but had chestnut colored hair and eyes that showed a deep and unshaken love for Rex.

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Rex had a vision identical to Halley’s own the night before. He would be killed, most likely all of them would be killed. Halley though had witnessed many of the genocidal brutalities the Federals unleashed on his own tribe since before the states war. He would have preferred death than to see the rape of his home.

“He is a coward! He has a war to fight!”

“No!” she shouted curtly. “A coward doesn’t walk away from his family to fight a losing battle, it’s pointless. He doesn’t wish to die! Anymore than to see those he loves murdered. He doesn’t want blood on his hands” she said.

“They have defiled of our women with their rifles!” Halley countered with finger pointed at her.

“They have cut open bellies of our children with their bayonets! More will die still! Whats to keep the blue coats from coming and raping you as they did my wife. What will they do to your half mongrel child?! His hands are already stained with the blood of his ancestors!”

Halley knew that she was with child then and there and that Red Feather had made his choice, he took his reins and gigged his horse away in the direction of Pecos river where the blue coats were. Halley looked up to the sky that was going cobalt from the coming night, slowly the light from stars began to show.

“What my daughter-in-law says, do you believe it to be pointless?” Rex’s father Sand Feather asked.

“It does not matter.” Halley said with out looking away from the young night time sky.

Despite everything who ever didn’t get killed by the blue coats, would be pushed out by Dolan eventually. Halley saw Dolan in the vision as a man covered in silver dust coughing black mucus into the sky while digging the bare earth with his own hands. Large gushers of water began to erupt and drown all the life, no not drown, but deform, all the life in its path.

Halley saw this vision clearly the vents would not change despite Red Feathers actions or lack there of, what was coming wouldn’t be stopped. Halley’s sons were all dead when the moon was still at its highest, he mourned their deaths by scalping a blue coated officer. The night sky was awash in conflagration and the echoes of rifle fire.

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He and three men were climbing a short hill where on top a half dozen blue coats were working a twelve pound Napoleon cannon. He wanted to be the first on top but the men he led were younger and quicker so he was the last one up which probably saved his life.

The only thing he saw when he reached the crest was a Federal on a horse that was screaming and bucking from all the excitement, then there was a terrific boom followed flash of yellow light and heat, then darkness. A cannon had misfired as they charged and killed everyone except him. He awoke under the face down carcass of the blue coat that had been on the bucking horse.

The back half of the soldiers body was charred black and had shielded Halley, though his arm and shoulder were scalded some.

Halley cursed himself for not dying in battle. He a blade or a bayonet to fall upon, but instead he decided he did not want to give the white man the satisfaction. He thought of Rex, feeling a great rush of anger that because of Rex he had to live in a world with out his sons.

“What has become of you?” Halley asked trying to forget that morning after at the Pecos massacre.

“The water that has taken lives of the whites, has given me life.” he said pointing at a long pipe with a pump handle. “Much like the god the whites know as Jesus, I drank, now I am everlasting.

As will be my power.”

Rex smiled and held up the rifle used by one of the men the coyotes had eaten. He turned the firearm to one of the beasts and pulled the trigger. The side of the animals pelt rippled and a tiny trickle of blood flowed as the malformed animal snarled in anger but didn’t take its emerald eyes from Halley. The smile on Rex’s face vanished when he spoke again.

“You said I was a coward. I will soon show you and the white man I am no coward, I will skin them alive. These beasts will lick the blood of the white man off my boots when I am finished.”

he said with eyes glowing dimly as he receded into darkness.

“Red Feather...”

“I am no longer Red Feather, nor am I the savage with the white mans name...” he said from the darkness, only his eyes were visible which shone a ghastly bright luminescent green.

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“I am Atahsaia.” He said before his eyes went dark.

He tried to tell himself Bob hadn’t been real but the green lightening was real and the things he saw were happening at a frighteningly accurate pace. He could feel his nephews hatred flying out of the darkness with green sparks.

Halley’s rage had been quick to build that day during his confrontation with the now departed Rachael. That rage had still been hot when he saw the one called Bob, after the visions and the slow pass of years his rage became despair. The opposite had happened to Red Feather, he knew he had caused Halley to survive by his own absence, and though he had done it to live a long life with Rachael she had died on him anyway. The despair Red felt slowly became rage as the years passed and this unnatural transformation was the head of that rage.

“We can rule over them. We can take it back, or you can stay out of my way.”

As suddenly as the deformed animals appeared they retreated back into the shadows and darkness of the desert. The second to last vision Bob had shown him was like a nightmare made real in his ind, in the vision was his grandmother telling the story of Atahsaia, the cannibal demon.

But Red Feather was sitting there with him too, only as a little boy like him though they were many years apart in age. They sat there as children listening to the story, Halley growing more frightened, while Red Feather began to laugh and smile as grandmother told them about how the demon fed. Halley shouted at his grandmother to stop telling the story, but she continued as if she couldn’t hear him.

In the vision Rex began to grow a tail, while his skin the color of deep red, changed to a gray fuzz and with lizard like scales as he laughed through teeth slowly growing into points like an animals mouth. Before the vision ended the little boy slowly turned his head with eyes that were glowing a repugnant green and leered at him with a long serpents tongue. Halley shook the memory away as a chill raced down his back.

After a moment Halley re-climbed the rock wall and looked towards the direction of the train station, thinking of the last vision from Bob, it had shown a pair of tracks upon which two whites would arrive. One a scholar, the other a warrior. Halley felt this land had too many white saviors already and was loath to help one.

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The idea of a white scholar made more sense than a white warrior. Halley tried to scoff at the idea of any white man facing such foul ugly beasts. But Halley knew something was coming, he would not have needed Bob to see that. He could not be totally sure if it was good or bad as the aura that approached was the color of a storm cloud.

What warrior could fight with such dark clouds swirling around his soul. He had seen the same clouds around Rex long ago. Now Rex had a different aura, one that mirrored the ugly shine of green light from his eyes. The same fate could befall this white warrior.

“Warrior.” he said still unbelieving.

The soldiers he had fought against hadn't needed courage, just a lot of cannon balls. Halley remounted his horse and went back to his home, along the way he began harvesting a cluster of bulbous green plants adorned with a flower on its top like a crown jewel for the spirit battle that was to come, he feared he was to old for The Ordeal.

He found his mind wondering back to a ritual his grandfather had given called The Ordeal. There was blood every where. Blood of his own kind, shed by another of his own kind. He thought of the bloody hands of the men in the ritual and saw in a vision he would have bloody hands, one day.

He remembered wanting to run out to his grand father, shouting to him. Telling him that this was not the way, he didn’t want to see his hands covered in blood. But he would never have done such a thing, he had only enough courage to ask him why afterwards. Why did it have to be this way?

“Sometimes blood must fall.”

That was as all his grand father had said about the ritual, he was an tall broad shouldered man who had fought in the French and Indian war before heading west. He was the bravest man in the tribe and wore feathers with many notches from battle. He put more plants in his satchel and looked to the sky above him remembering that Bob had told him that as well. Sometimes blood must fall.

Qcalc Coordinates 40.02183-75.26418

Porter, PA 08_06_2011

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Doug ‘Dig’ Robins stood on the corner of Cedar street just a few hundred feet from Jeter’s Garage in one direction, and nearly a mile from his former home he had shared with a woman named Cammie. It had felt like a hundred years had passed since the night his car died and was drinking his sorrows away. Abraham Mordecai ‘AM’ Lincoln, sixth cousin to the late 16th President of the United States, sat in his car a few feet from Dig. It was hot and muggy, as the sounds of clunking tools and Jeter’s good natured laugh echoed from the garage.

“I’ll contact you with the Qpad. OK?” AM asked.

“Yeah, no worries.” He said lifting the back pack that hung on his good shoulder which held his Qpad and cube.

His other shoulder was slowly healing and was free of infection but still sore. He knew he had gotten away light after running through a hail of rifle fire coming in all directions. He thought about the soldier he killed again and held his breath.

“You sure, you’re OK?” AM asked.

Did he mean his shoulder, the dead soldier, Marisa? Did it matter?

“Fine,” he said trying to give a firm nod. “go see your folks.”

Dig said sounding more upbeat than a moment ago.

“If you need me...”

“Seriously no worries, AM.”

Dig walked towards Jeter’s Garage giving AM a thumbs up before leaving his view. AM started his car and drove towards Capital Row, where the houses were priced in the six figure range and up. AM’s childhood home, that his parents still resided in was among these. He pulled up the driveway to the mailbox with the name Lincoln printed on both sides with brass letters that had a mirror shine.

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Although his parents wouldn’t have minded him living there during his college years, AM felt compelled to jump into adulthood with both feet and moved out before he was nineteen years old. AM stopped at the mail box and took out three pieces of junk mail, two addressed to his father, Russell Theodore Lincoln, and another addressed to his mother Gwendolyn Marie Lincoln.

The two car garage held one car at the moment, a cobalt colored BMW his mother sometimes drove. His father normally drove the Lexus to the office. His mom didn’t usually drive, and spent her time during the day either volunteering for the garden club, grass rooting for her alma mater, or a number of other civic duties. He was at the front door when it opened suddenly by his mother, who looked tired and anxious, but also relieved to see him.

“Are you OK?” AM asked worried.

“Come in, its your father. He is sick.” his mother said simply as she held the door open for him.

AM quickly walked in, his mother wore a sweater from the air conditioner running, why she didn’t just turn it off instead of wearing a sweater was a mystery to him. His mother was the most calm headed of the family, so it irritated AM not being told right away what was going.

“Come into the kitchen I made coffee.”

“God damn it, what’s going on?”

His mother stopped walking and turned to face her son and said sternly:

“Abraham, we need to discuss something before you go see him. I just got back from the hospital, I was meeting him for lunch and he started sweating badly in the lobby of his building before we went. He looked so pale I made him go to the hospital, but thank God it’s nothing serious.” she said then continued her way to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I got angry, mom.” AM said.

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His mom was silent while pouring coffee but she gave him a half humorous look with a raised eyebrow that Dig would have recognized.

“Your stubbornness you get from your father, the temper from my side of the family. If you swear in front of me again, I don’t care how old you are, I’ll put my foot in your ass.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

He spent more than an hour with his mother, telling her much as he could tell her with out all the time travel and alien hardware details, he didn’t elaborate too much on Angie. Just that it hadn’t worked out because that was life sometimes.

She tried to prod more out of him, he was able to sway the conversation in his own way like any good debate club veteran. But his mother who was not a lawyer but married to one of the best, knew how to stay on subject.

‘Damn, she’s better than Dad.’ He thought to himself.

“Why are you smiling?” his mother asked smiling herself.

“Was I?”

“Abe, come on. Have you thought about some kind of career.” she asked.

The dinner he had with them a few weeks ago she had only glossed over the subject, and he had no real plausible answer that could satisfy them with out lying. However much had happened since then. He had thought back to teaching the children under Sister Eva’s care back in the 2nd universe, since then he had been seriously considering becoming a teacher if he ever finished his search.

“Well I had been considering a degree in teaching.”

“That sounds wonderful, Abraham.”

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“I had planned on waiting on after the holidays before I enrolled.”

“Why don’t you enroll now so you can start by next year?” she asked.

He explained to her that he had previous engagements he could not cancel. That worried her a little because it was what she called lawyer speak for “I can’t right now or I don’t really want too and you can’t make me in any legal way.”

Having to be sated with her son’s vague reasons, she suggested he go see his father.

“Maybe he can talk you into going back to school sooner.”

“Maybe, but I promise I will do go back soon.” he said sincerely.

He weaved through traffic on the interstate and arrived at Penn hospital in pretty good time despite the late hour, finding an open parking spot was bigger chore however. The hospital was one of the first in America, founded by Ben Franklin, and considered the finest around the world.

The original building was now a landmark, it was in one of the many add ons that AM was born in during the age of Reagan and the Rubik’s cube.

The hospital had immensely grown since it’s inception during the revolution, buildings that looked clean and sleek compared to the original hospital which looked like a large school house.

It was twenty five minutes of walking down the steps of the multi level parking garage with the broken elevator and forty five minutes searching the building before he found a room with a white marker board with the name Rusty Lincoln written beside patient. His father sat up in bed, his hair was short and neat like AM’s but not as short as he had in pictures of his days with the Marine Corps.

He had a ruddy face below his bristles of gray going on white hair. He wore reading glasses as his eyes quickly scanned a section of the Inquirer. AM was just coming through the doorway when his father noticed him.

“Abe, I’m glad you finally came. You missed Quake and Aunt Patty by a few minutes.” he said sounding upbeat, folding up the paper and removing his glasses.

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“How you doing?” AM asked sitting down in a plastic contoured chair that was very uncomfortable.

“Better than the Phillies.” he said with a smile.

His dad looked well, exhausted but well. He was hooked to a heart monitor that beeped at regular intervals.

“I wish they’d put a friggin mute button on that thing. Giving me a damn headache.” Rusty said

“How else are they going monitor your heart?”

“I’m just sick of that god damn beeping.”

AM felt alarmed and wanted to say something.

“Dad I...”

“Abe, I’m retiring from the firm.”

AM felt his gut twist up into a knot, his father had wanted him to follow in the family tradition.

Hence why his father named his only son not after himself but after the greatest lawyer in his family’s history, and one of the greatest in American history.

“I should have done it a few years ago your mother said. And I admit she was right, don’t tell her though.” Rusty said with a smile. “I had hoped for too long you would come around.”

AM lowered his head, he felt a burning sense of anger and shame that he had disappointed his father, though he had good reason to turn his back on the family tradition.

“Abe, don’t look so glum.” Rusty said trying to catch his sons eyes with his own. “A man has to do what makes him happy. Your grandfather, William Lincoln, wasn’t a lawyer. Do you remember him?”

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“A little.”

His memory of the man was that he was very tall and lanky, wearing denim coveralls splattered with paint. AM remembered he had a white beard that would have looked perfect on an Amish man.

“He was a farmer. He didn’t go to college, so when ever he talked about what I was doing I didn’t take him seriously. He said something to me not long after you were born and I was working late nights at the firm, that I didn’t appreciate until now.”

“What did he say?”

“He said ‘it ain’t up to us fathers to decide what our sons will do, Russ. A man can’t get happy livin for someone else.’

“Those were your grandfathers exact words. Of course I didn’t listen. It’s in our blood Abe, we do our best in our duty until the day we die or retire in my case. That’s why your names sake was able to reunite this country. It was selfish of me to put all the pressure I did on you, I understand why you used to resent the name.”

“Dad, I never...it was...”

“Angst?” he asked his son.

AM was silent so his father continued.

“In the sixth grade you were learning about the Civil War for the first time. And your teacher thought it would be a wonderful idea if you did a special report for extra credit on the rail splitter.

However you, ever the rebel...” his father said with a warm smile. “insisted you do a report on Frederick Douglas. Do you remember?”

AM laughed and thought back to the eulogy Mr Douglas had given at Lincoln’s funeral, he learned for the first time Abe Lincoln was racist too and felt a deep sense of shame and

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mortification. AM had felt more than angst when he read that, also hadn’t he felt differently towards his father after that?

“I should’ve realized then, you wanted to be your own person. You felt so guilty about that and I just got a laugh out of it. It hurt your feelings to learn that and I’m sorry, Abe. I didn’t even realize it until your mother was driving me up here and had me convinced I was having a heart attack and I’d never see you again.”

His father shook his head looking as ashamed as AM felt just a moment ago.

“Abe, I’m sorry I never thought about you’re feelings or your dreams. Your mom and I have asked a lot from you. Being there for Quake, keeping on the honor roll regardless of how swamped you got with every other thing school threw at you. Prepping you for a life you had no say in, a man doesn’t do that to his son.”

“Dad, just worry about getting out of here.” he said reaching for his fathers hand.

“No, you should have heard this sooner.” he said taking his sons hand. “I was angry when you left college, and I still was until this morning. I know its difficult for you to tell me why you left, I don’t understand it, but I accept it. I always asked so much of you. All I worry about is my son resenting me.”

“Resent you? Dad, I don’t, I just have other things in my life that are important to me, that’s why when I do go back to school, I want to get a teaching degree. I just have a lot of...”

“Yes, I know. Prior engagements that can not be avoided. Your mom texted me, while you were on your way over.”

AM chuckled: “You two make a good team.”

“Whenever you’re ready too go back to school. Give your cousin Stradivarius a call, he’s still at Temple.”

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Stradivarius or Steve as what everyone called him instead, was currently earning a second degree in History as well as getting a secondary degree in Sociology, on top of numerous other degrees he’d already earned. In AM’s opinion, Stradivarius was probably the smartest one of the current generation in the Lincoln family, though he had an odd sense of humor that some might call eccentric. His grandfather on his mother’s side of the family had founded a restaurant chain called ‘Cluck You, Chicken’ that specialized in southern fried chicken, and had made a fortune selling the franchise.

“Maybe I will, dad.”

AM spent the next few days with his father until he was released from the hospital, with a clean bill of health. AM had texted Dig and told him he might take a few days longer than expected but to be ready to go soon.

It was a week later when AM found Dig at Jeter’s, they had been sharing a joint sitting in his garage after closing. It was a cool summer night filled with fireflies and the sent of burning wood not far off, the jubilant laughter of children could be heard near by. Dig was drinking a bottle of cherry Pepsi while Jeter had a mason jar beside him filled with a red orange liquid that only he drank from.

“AM, hey hows your pops?” Dig asked when he saw him approach.

“Much better, thanks.”

“Mr. Lincoln, how are ya, baby. Have a seat, partake.” Jeter said cheerfully.

Despite it being night, he still wore his sunglasses.

‘I wear my sunglasses at night’ chimed in AM’s head.

Despite the oddness of the sight, the worn denim vest and sunglasses worked for Jeter making him look right out of the 1980s.

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“Good Mr. Jeter. A pleasure to see you again.” he said shaking his hand and pulling up a seat similar to the one in his fathers hospital room.

Jeter handed AM the still smoldering joint, he thought about refusing but shrugged and took a drag. He coughed as he blew out smoke and passed it to Dig.

“Are we leaving?” Dig asked as he took a drag and passed it to Jeter.

“Tomorrow, if its not too soon for you?” AM asked.

“No.”

“Leavin already? You just got back.” Jeter said.

“I am sorry, Mr Jeter. Hopefully it will be a short rip...uh trip, and we’ll visit again soon.” AM

said taking the joint from Jeter.

“Well my friends call me Jeter, baby, any friend of Diggy, is a friend of mine.”

“Then call me AM, my friend.” AM said raising the joint to his lips and dragging.

AM began to cough harshly, although he was not choking it was a dry hacking cough. Dig laughed and held out his Pepsi to him.

“Here, take a drink.” Dig said.

AM reached out with eyes closed from the force of the coughing and had grabbed the mason jar that Jeter was drink from.

Before they could warn him, AM gulped down half of the red orange liquid. It was cold and felt fine and refreshing for a few seconds. Then an immediate rush of the most intense heat filled his mouth and stomach, followed by a sickeningly sweet aftertaste.

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“What is....” he slurred out the word is before he passed out and fell on the dewy grass.

The next morning AM awoke to the squeal of a drill loosening lug nuts a not far away. The sound made AM want to rip his ears off, instead he did the near seemingly impossible task of opening his eyes to a morning sun that he thought would cook the pupils out of his skull the felt like was pulsating. The sun was suddenly blocked from his eyes by Dig standing over him with a cup of water in one hand and some antacid and aspirin in the other.

“I know eating is probably last on your list but the Tums will be your best friend today. Believe me.”

AM looked around at the small bed room that had a couch and recliner in the corner of the room with a balled up blanket and pillow. AM saw he was laying on a twin bed wrapped up in its sheets with a crumpled pillow between his legs. He sat up slowly trying to recall last night.

“What happened?” he said rubbing his temples and wincing.

“You downed some apple moonshine when you were choking.”

“Did I? I had a bad dream I was drowning in apple sauce.”

“No shit?” Dig said laughing when AM nodded.

“Well it’s not the worst bender I’ve ever seen.” Dig said.

AM began to feel embarrassed and said: “I’m sorry, Dig.”

Dig handed him the water and tablets looking perplexed.

“Here don’t chew the aspirin, why are you sorry?”

“Well, I got drunk and...” he took the pill and followed it with a sip of water.

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He licked his lips and gulped the rest down after chewing up the antacid, his tongue felt like it was coated in a thick paste, the water helped though.

“Hey, just cause I’m a recovering alcoholic doesn’t mean you can’t get drunk. I mean, I don’t recommend it, unless you start waking up everyday like this like I used to, I’m not gonna judge you.”

“You’re a good man, Dig. I can see why you didn’t need AA.”

“They were OK, but they tell you you have to believe in God in order to beat it, and telling me not having God was the reason I got addicted to begin with. Fuck that, I created my problems.

And I fixed my drinking problem on my own. Anyway it’s like I told ya, us Misties gotta stick together. Hikeeba, mofo!” Dig said with that cocky smile holding out his fist.

“Hikeeba.” AM said bumping Digs fist with his own.

“Mindy gave you a shirt you puked a little on yours. There’s a shower down the hall, you should use it you smell like rotten apples. ” Dig said leaving the room after finally getting a laugh from AM.

After a shower and a fresh black T shirt with Jeter’s business logo on the front, AM felt the hangovers pain ebb somewhat and went downstairs to a private garage. At the entrance was AM’s car blocking in an early model Dodge Charger that was a spectacularly bright yellow and looked new despite it’s being from the early 70s, besides that was an early model GTO that was a sky blue. Dig stood nearby with a mug of coffee in hand looking into the forest that surrounded Porter.

“No more Pine trees.” he said when AM was standing next to him watching the same view. “I was kind of depressed when we got back. I got used to smelling pine all the time.”

“The times they are a changing, said Dylan.” AM said with a nod.

“AM, glad to see you awake, baby. Coffee?” Jeter said coming from a door into the house beside the garage.

19

“No thank you, Jeter. I apologize for taking your drink.”

“No worries. I got more in the basement fridge, I could give you a jar. Free a charge, baby.”

“No, thank you.” AM said quickly holding his stomach with a small smile.

“I like this guy, I really do!” Jeter said with a laugh giving AM a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Yeah, we got to split anyway Jeter. Thanks for the hospitality. Is my bike taking up to much room in your garage?” Dig said shaking Jeter’s hand.

“No problem Dig, baby, if it gets too cluttered, I can put it in storage for ya, no charge. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a pair of Detroit’s finest iron awaiting my expertise.” he said with a wave and headed back inside.

They walked to AM’s car, as they approached a blue compact pulled into the driveway. AM

noticed Dig eyes widen a little and his breathing sounded tight. He looked at the car approaching and saw a young woman with wavy red brown hair driving, she stopped her car a few feet away.

“Do you know her?” AM asked.

Dig didn’t speak, he just walked towards the vehicle. AM turned around and wandered a few feet away finally realizing who this woman was. She gave Dig a smile and got out of her tiny vehicle.

“Hey, Dig.” she said.

Dig nodded.

“I heard you were around and...” she looked down at her hands trying to speak.

“And what Cam.” Dig asked with a heart that beat with anxiety.

20

“I wanted to know if we could talk. About us.” she was dressed in a business suit minus the name tag, she had gotten her promotion it seemed.

Her skirt was short and showed off her long legs encased in black stockings that would have made any man insane with lust filled thoughts but Dig hardly noticed nor cared.

“Why now? Its been almost two years.”

“I was afraid. I did something horrible to you. I did it because I was so angry with you. I heard you had been doing better not drinking so much.”

“I don’t drink at all.” Dig said firmly.

Cammie smiled a weak smile, and nodded quickly agreeing with her error.

“I still have feelings for you, and I ...I know we can have something still.”

Dig thought for a moment while looking for the pines that were no longer surrounding his hometown. She had done something horrible to him, but he had done his share of bad deeds as well to her and himself. He looked back towards his ripping companion who was facing away from them.

Could he forgive her? He had forgiven himself a long time ago, but had never imagined Cammie would ask him for forgiveness. It had caught him so off guard he almost laughed but didn’t. Yes, he could. He still loved her, but not like Marisa. Marisa was like the pine forest of Pennsylvania, a beautiful memory, though it was nothing more than that now.

He thought of her and longed to see her face just once more, but that would not be and it was his fault. His heart would always belong to Marisa even if she was gone, so he would surrender his life or any semblance of one and leave with AM for New Mexico circa 1906.

He looked back to her and said: “I love you, Cam. But my heart...” he didn’t know how to put it in the right words.

21

“Some one else?” she said looking sad but not surprised.

Dig nodded, that was the truth.

“I hope she is the one, Dig.” she said with sincerity.

She turned around and got back into her car and drove away. AM was standing beside Dig again as her car turned down the road heading towards the interstate.

“You OK?”

“Yeah I was over Cam, long before Marisa. Marisa gave me courage, I felt whole...I...I...fuck...I don’t know.” he said weakly and got into AM’s car.

AM knew what Dig meant, Angie had given him a feeling that truly did need a poet to explain.

“So can we go to New Mexico from the safe room?” he asked as AM got behind the wheel.

“Yes, though I’ve never done that before.”

“Why?” Dig said surprised.

“I never had too, the first cube I ever located was in Philadelphia. As I said I was always reluctant to rip unless necessarily. Are you worried?” AM asked staring the car.

“I just don’t want to wind up in Canada during the last Ice Age.” he said with a half smile.

“I’ll try my best to keep us in the southern hemisphere.” AM said sounding almost serious.

Qcalc Coordinates 33.34368-104.57931

Roswell, NM 04_10_1906 (ALerd UVErse 4)

22

Dig stood on the open landscape of the dusty brown hard pan, tasting the alkali in the air on his tongue. It was early morning cool, the sun was rising turning the eternal sky into a pinkish red water color. Dig saw the pink and his heart twisted as the color brought his thoughts to her again.

He looked back at AM who stood looking intensely at the screen of his Qpad his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked back out into the desert, standing less than a mile or so from the Town center of Roswell.

“The signal is still screwy.”

The words brought Dig out of his thoughts of Marisa for the time being.

“What’s screwy about it?”

“It sounds like static and there are signals all over the map, look at your Qpad.”

There was no one near by for at least a half mile so Dig removed his Qpad and brought up the Sir Doyle app. The visual marker for a signal was a green translucent dot that would decreased in size as you closed in on a cube, currently there were four or five different locations all over the outskirts of Fort Sumner. A few of the signals appeared to be drifting.

Dig placed the special hearing aid in his ear to listen. The sound was indeed filled with layers of static. Similar in sound to when you have a radio dial set between stations.

“Is it radio interference? Have radio’s been invented yet even?”

“Yes but they don’t cause interference on these. Perhaps we have hit the mother load and found more than a few cubes.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I can’t think of anything else, if it had been destroyed there would be no signal. So maybe they are interfering with each other.”

23

“Do you think they were found? Why are they moving?”

AM looked up at Dig, he hadn’t thought of that.

“I wish I knew.”

AM had decided to leave from Roswell instead of ripping to Fort Sumner. They would purchase horses and ride the rest of the way on horseback since the signals were jumping around. One signal being as close as seventy miles away then fifty but then slowly veering away from them.

AM hoped maybe they might cross the signal at some point in hopes of having to avoid anymore human contact than necessary as he preferred. The bright sun slowly rising above them made their shadows as black as a moonless night. It took an hour to reach town, and half that to find a horse trader. Roswell had a small population.

There were a few farms and businesses, and one church at the edge of town. The trader was a young man with a thick mustache curled at the ends wearing denim overalls, who had four strong looking steeds. He was exiting the stable as AM and Dig arrived. AM saw the man, smiled at him, then looked just over the mans shoulder his smile faltering a little.

“Can I help y’all?” The mustachioed trader asked.

Dig looked at AM who seemed to ignore the trader, and was staring intently beyond him towards a squat blue building slightly longer than most of the other buildings. Dig looked but saw nothing but a building that could have been a business or a home.

“AM,” Dig said when AM still didn’t answer.

“Yes, my friend and I would like to purchase a pair of horses.” he said still looking beyond them at the building across the road.

AM handed Dig his satchel that held the money.

24

“I’ll be right back, take care of the transaction.” AM said not looking at either of them and headed towards the tiny blue building.

Dig watched him walk away wondering what caught his attention. He purchased the horses, and the trader allowed him to keep them there until AM returned. Before leaving the trader warned him.

“You might want to pack a fire arm if you’re goin far. I would anyway.” he said putting a blue tipped stick in his mouth to chew.

“Why’s that?” Dig asked.

“I don’t mean offense, you seem to know your way around a horse, just got to be careful of wolves and coyotes is all. Least that’s what the newspaper said.”

Dig wasn’t worried about wolves or coyotes. Wild animals usually kept away from humans, packing heat was only good for hunting which was a good enough reason to consider getting one though.

“OK.”

“I’ll throw in the holster for another ten.” the trader said when he showed Dig it was in working order.

“Deal.” Dig said when he was able to fire off a round with ease himself.

“Also might wanna consider some oil.”

Dig stopped checking the barrel of his Colt and looked at the trader.

“Uh..does it work like car oil?” Dig asked.

25

“Uh well it’s for your pistol, gets dusty quick on the trail.” The trader saw how painlessly the man reacted to the exaggerated prices and tried to sell more to the traveler.

“Oh, uh no I’m good. Thanks though.” Dig said.

The man shoulders slumped a little as he walked away still trying to figure out where in the territory you would find something called car oil and if it was good to use on guns. A moment later AM returned jogging at a quick pace with a roll of what looked like newspaper tucked under his arm. He stopped at the stable and looked around not seeing Dig at first.

“Where did you run off too?” Dig asked.

“Did you get...”

“Yeah, yeah. Saddles and all, what’s up?”

AM looked around again quickly, the trader was no where to be seen.

“Do you see that building there, with the pale blue paint?” he asked pointing down an almost empty road.

Dig looked and saw a few men come out laughing and slapping each other on the back.

Although it had a no sign, Dig knew it was a bar from watching the behavior of the men who walked out.

“The bar?”

“Yes. Frank’s, named after the proprietor. It was the first business to be established here. You can gamble and have drink or rent a room on the second floor.”

“OK, is it still around in 2011?”

26

“Yes, but it’s different here.”

“OK, so what’s different about it back home?”

“In 1884, Pat Garrett visited here, our version back home I mean.”

“Pat Garrett.” Dig said curiously.

“He was...”

“Yeah, yeah I saw the movies.”

“He was a big gambler so is the owner Frank. He and Garrett were playing Texas Hold’em and Garrett was losing and out of money. According to the story back home he had a big hand and Frank had raised the ante, but Garrett was never the type to back down and put up the only thing he had on him, a revolver. A revolver used to gun down William McCarty aka...”

“Billy the Kid.”

“Yes. Garrett lost and handed over his revolver to Frank, who felt bad about it so he changed the name to ‘Garrett’s Place’. The revolver was put behind the bar as a show piece. It helped increase his business and was Roswell’s claim to fame until the events of July 1947 of course. My Uncle Howdy told me the story and even brought me to this place once after he took me and Quake to see a matinee for Young Guns 2.”

“Okay, but where’s the gun that killed Billy The Kid?”

“I imagine it still exists somewhere, as does the man who was killed by it, look here.”

AM handed over the newspaper tucked under his arm. Dig unrolled it and looked at the picture below the headline which was the word murder in bold letter followed by a question mark.

“He’s alive? And sheriff, holy shit!”

27

It was a black and white picture of Billy The Kid showing the signs of being middle age, he had lines around his eyes and mouth, his youthfulness was still some what preserved by a small showing of two large front teeth. He wore a star on his chest as he sat at a desk that had a wooden template which said ‘Sheriff.’ He sat with his hands folded looking every bit the lawman, behind him a Winchester Rifle was leaning against the wall, he wore a black or brown hat that sat squarely upon his head.

“Something has been seriously altered.” AM said.

“Does this have something to do with the cubes?” Dig asked rolling the paper back up.

“I don’t know. I think it may, the location of the signals are close to the area The Kid frequented.

But the cubes may have been there long before he was around and may have had nothing to do with this situation.”

“You think it’s a coincidence?”

“Maybe, but this unlikely in my opinion.”

They saddled their horses and began the trek to Fort Sumner, Dig took the newspaper out again and read some of the story below.

“Guess the silver mine is keeping Sheriff McCarty busy.”

“What silver mine?” AM asked quickly.

“Here look.”

AM took the paper and skimmed the article before handing it back.

“There has never been a silver mine in Fort Sumner.” AM said with his brow furrowed. “We are totally ignorant of the history here.”

28

“Has there ever been a serial killer here before?”

“Serial killer?!” AM said astonished.

“The headline article towards the end says so, a guy named Rex disappeared and a few people died,but the article doesn’t say how. Yesterday two guys got butchered, but there aren’t any witnesses.”

Dig handed the paper back, AM read the rest of the article more closely and then once more in its entirety. All kinds of violence was happening in the former wild west.

“All the victims were employees of The Dolan Silver Company.” Dig said pointing at the other side of the paper,

“Dolan.” AM said.

“Huh?” Dig said.

“Dolan...that name.” AM said eyeing the article closely.

“Yeah, didn’t he run with whats his name...uh...the guy from City Slickers played him in the first movie...damn it..”

“Lawrence Murphy.”

“No, it was Jack Palance.”

“He’s long dead now though.” AM said ignoring the joke. “Murphy, I mean. And Dolan had as well, but he was a drunk and died from it in the 1890‘s in our universe. Apparently his failure to kill Billy The Kid gave him a purpose greater than drinking. Also this silver mine, he is more than wealthy enough to feed his habit and yet he doesn’t. He was a bitter man, a horrible man who was still horrible and bitter even after he got Billy.”

29

“So he’s not dead here which gives Dolan what a reason to quit drinking? Do you laugh or cry at someone like that?”

“Hate is a great motivator. This story about a possible serial murder as they’re calling it could be related as well to the cubes, there was never a serial killer in New Mexico’s history this early on nor the suspicion of there being one.”

“The trader back there said something about picking up a gun might be in our best interests.”

“He said a killer was on the loose?”

“No he said wolves or coyotes we running wild or some shit like that. The article there even says some of the killings could be just wild animal attacks.”

AM adjusted his raccoon skinned hat and looked at the large horse he would have to ride for the next fifty to one hundred miles.

“So you think we need a weapon?” AM asked looking back at Dig.

“Way ahead of ya.” Dig said revealing his new iron piece. “Seems like things have been altered here for a long time now like you said. If there is a killer running around maybe we should both have a gun.”

“Man or beast we most likely will be in danger. The signal is all over the map. Why we are going out in the wilderness to avoid people in an already altered universe?”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying get our money back, we’re taking a train to Fort Sumner. The problem has to be the silver mine, something happened at some point in time before we arrived. I want to get there as quickly as possible.”

30

The train station was small, with only one set of tracks beside a tiny building where a man worked in a booth behind a window screened with chicken wire fencing to sell tickets and train schedules. Besides the man in the booth was a door leading inside.

“I wonder if there is a book store?” AM asked.

“Is it a long ride by train?”

“No, but they may have a book about the local history here. Maybe it will help give us an idea of what happened and where to look for the cubes. I’ll get the tickets you return the horses.”

AM walked his customary brisk pace and waited in a line that moved slowly despite its shortness. He finally reached the front and purchased two tickets for ten dollars.

“Do you have a news stand here?” he asked the ticket clerk.

“Inside just past the vestibule.”

AM thanked the ticket clerk and went inside and found the newspaper stand that had a trio of spinning wooden spindles with mounted shelves that held paperbacks. He found one about the settlement of Lincoln County after the Civil War and another about Billy The Kid written by a man named Miguel Otero. After his purchase he came back outside and saw Dig returning with horses.

“What happened?” AM asked.

“No refunds, he said. What an asshole.”

“I gave you too much money to buy the horses. I was worried about the bar.” he said with a laugh.

“Well, maybe the train will have a stable.” Dig said hopefully.

31

Two hours later, with their horses in a stable car for an extra five dollars a piece, they rode towards Fort Sumner. AM skimmed over both books as he and Dig rode across the dusty landscape on a Pullman car. The benches they sat on were lined up in two rows side by side.

They were just polished up planks of wood that looked fancy but made Dig’s lower back and and upper legs ache.

AM sat his customary Buddha style despite the narrowness of the benches. He filled in Dig on all the big details in the book including a green bolt of lightning that struck on the night Billy was supposed to have been killed by Pat Garrett.

“Green lightening? I guess it’s related to the cubes after all. Does he say where the lightening struck exactly?”

“South of Fort Sumner, there is no other mention of it in this book. Perhaps we can ask him ourselves. From what I have read he is very open and friendly.”

“Yeah, but that was back in 1881 and the copyright on this book is 1904. He might have forgotten it if it’s not in there.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try, though.”

“True, true. But what do we do if he asks us why we want to know. We could mess with people and say we’re on a mission from god to convert them all to atheism.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.” he said dryly as he skimmed over the other book.

The train was was just a few cars attached to a steam locomotive. Dig felt his heart lifted by sight of the black locomotive spewing its sooty coal smoke into the sky, it reminded him of the Lionel Kiddie City toy store from his youth that his father would take him to when he had extra cash to spend. The store had an area that specialized in model railroads, one of the models he remembered that was on display was an old steam locomotive that had actually spewed out black smoke from its stack.

32

The car they sat in was sparsely occupied, a half dozen other riders looked on the land surrounding them disinterested or chatted quietly. Probably a daily commute for most of them, Dig thought.

“I thought this thing would be packed.” Dig said.

“Well it’s mid morning, most of the commuters probably only take this trip early in the morning and between three and five PM. Most of the people that work the silver mines already reside in Sumner. The town has seen an economic boom and will be changed considerably in comparison to our universe, both economical and population wise.”

“Did one of those books say that?”

“No, it’s just an educated guess from my experience. I’m more worried about the lightening than this towns economic history.

Dig nodded his head and watched the scenery of brush weed and cacti and sky race by.

“So is there anything in the other book about the lightning?”

“No, this book is more a summary than a real history. If necessary we’ll see if this town has a library or not. I’d hate to think this acquired wealth isn’t being used to fulfill basic civic needs.”

“I’m sure they have a library, hell its the twentieth century, not the 1880s. All that wild west Clint Eastwood shit is over, now we start with all the X-Files shit. Learning about the world being round and the benefits of having a flush able toilet in your own home instead of crapping in a hole in the ground.”

AM looked at Dig with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I know the X-Files.” Dig said with a firm nod.

“I watched it fairly often myself.” AM said.

33

“Oh hell yeah. That Agent Scully was on my top ten most wanted list when I was a kid.”

They were silent again as the train sped onward. The thought of that old TV show brought Dig to another question.

“So where are they? The aliens I mean.”

“Maybe they’re gone, perhaps maybe even before the ship crashed in Roswell.”

“You think the UFO was stuck on auto-pilot the rest of the way?”

“Could be why it crashed. Besides I don’t believe my Uncle could have hidden an alien somewhere in his home.” AM said.

“Yeah.”

The Qpad was still giving off sporadic beeps and squeals with static. The car was close enough to empty for AM to remove it from his pack. One of the green dots on screen for a short amount of time was just a few miles from the car they sat in. AM had the urge to pull the emergency stop cord which ran the length of the car, but resisted.

He sat closer to the box sized window and looked out on hard pan which gave way to rocky terrains at the base of a mountain. Perhaps there was iron in the mountain that was causing the interference. AM assumed it had to be that, why else wound the dots on screen appear to be moving?

The train pulled into the station that was bigger and more populated than the one in Roswell. The crowd was mostly male, nearly all were sitting on benches reading the newspaper while others stood either in one of three lines to a ticket booth or looking up at a large wooden sign painted an ugly snot green that sat high next to a large round faced clock sitting higher up on a wall. A man in a red vest and crisp white shirt stood in front of the green sign on a tall ladder removing a template with the word ‘arriving’ written in block letters. He replaced it with another that said

‘departing.’

34

“It’s funny I expected more people to be dressed like cowboys.” Dig said.

“It’s like you said earlier, all the Clint Eastwood stuff is over. Look over there.”

AM was pointing beyond the station where a paved road had been laid with actual tar, but it was what sat on the road that he pointed at. It was a T Model Ford or something very similar to one, it was black and sat on four wheels that looked like an imitation of a post modern wagon wheel in Dig’s eyes. The body of the car looked undersized as did the engine which looked small enough to fit in a go kart, it was minuscule compared to the one Dig had seen in his old Ford.

“I wonder if Jeter could fix one of those, hell it reminds me of those erector sets from when we were kids. You remember them?”

“Yes, I had the Ferris Wheel. Quake built most of it though, he was better with those kinds of things then I ever was. Lets get the horses and head into town.”

They passed the paved road that went off in another direction and entered a town brimming with life though it was mid day. The streets were dirt roads filled mostly with people on foot and the occasional horse with a rider or pulling a carriage. Other than the T Model, everything else looked like a scene in a spaghetti western.

There were numerous buildings lined up the main street, which was mostly pawn shops and saloons offering rooms. One rickety building that looked more like a shack had a sign across it that was scratched out, though Dig thought it might have said ‘Brothel’. Another building had a sign that said only ‘SUNDRIES’ in big letters, the building right next to it had an old sign with the word ‘HOT BATHS’ that was faded from the sun. Dig never saw so many people at one time wearing a hat outside of a sporting event or Halloween, even women were wearing hats.

“We should steal everybody’s hats and start a shop back home. We’d have one of everything.”

Dig said.

“Well it’s mostly because of the weather, its hot and dusty. It’s not as bad as the male dress etiquette of the eighteenth century.”

“What did men wear back then?”

35

“Tights.”

“Tights? You mean like a leotard?”

AM nodded.

“That’s so fucking weird. Well I guess it’s no crazier than crocs or Glenn Beck being a novelist.

So how do we explain to the Sheriff who we are and all that?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Sheriff William McCarty sat at his desk in his office, on the wall to his left was a map of the New Mexico territory. A section of it was colored yellow to show the area that was Lincoln County. Both county and territory had dramatically reduced in size since he high tailed it for Old Mexico twenty five years ago.

He saw himself in the reflection of the glass that held the map. He wanted to laugh at how old he looked, when he was still The Kid he would wonder what he would look like as an old man. He would try to picture it, but couldn’t, probably because he never expected to live this long. He wasn’t a kid anymore as he needed both hands to count the amount of gray hairs on his head now and had knees that felt just a little too tight on rainy days.

Old or not though he was the law now, and not a regulator either but an elected Sheriff. He had anticipated hardships as the law and there had been some especially as the traffic flow increased as Dolan’s mine boomed along. Trouble however seemed to increase two fold recently.

There had been a few deaths that we’re inexplicable and a missing person. Not too bad considering the amount of booze, broads and money that gets fought over. The trouble normally came from employees of Dolan, more specifically the men that worked his silver mine.

In total one missing and five dead, all employed at the silver mine. The first three were ruled death by heat stroke, which may or may not have been the cause. The last two however was more horrific than the things Billy had seen during The Lincoln County War and The War of El Tiempo. Frank Coe who now served as one of his deputies had come to Billy’s home to inform him.

36

“Jesus H. Christ, Billy. What the fuck did this?” said Frank wiping back greasy long locks of hair from his face onto his balding head before replacing his well worn hat.

Billy looked upon the mess of what was either Butch Cargill or Chad Pool or both. They worked security during the mines off hours. They were on shift until five am, the next days shift arrived just prior to five and made the discovery and ran like the devil was trying to jump up his ass. He found Frank and Frank had rode to Billy’s.

He had as many pictures as possible taken, of the victims and the unusually large bloody paw prints. The Mesilla already had a story in the morning edition, not many details except the victims worked at the silver mine and they had been brutally killed, maybe an animal or a man was the guess of their anonymous source. Which told Billy the man that found the remains had probably been blabbing the moment he saw the bodies.

Frank had said he was being followed by a few worried folks in town that happened to be up and about at that time. Billy’s wife, Isabella, was making coffee on the tiny wood stove in the office.

She had ridden with Billy to the office and stayed while he and Frank investigated the crime scene.

“Hungry?” she asked handing him a mug of coffee.

Billy shook his head no as his wife brushed a hair from his forehead. He told her just that two men had been brutally killed but not exactly how. He confided in her that he wasn’t sure what happened to those two men, nor the previous three if they were connected to this.

It was then that Frank had come in, he took his hat off and sat in a chair against the wall, and put his hat on his lap.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Frank said.

“We got everything cleaned up. Dolan’s lawyer came askin when the mine will be allowed to reopen. I told’em fuck off.”

37

“What did you really say?” Billy said absently to his deputy.

“I told him on your say so, then to fuck off.”

Billy nodded his head as he sipped his coffee. Isabella handed Frank a mug of coffee and quickly spoke to him in Spanish.

“Sorry, ma’am. No, ma’am my wife wouldn’t. Helena would pop me one if I did swear at her breakfast table.”

Billy laughed quietly at Frank as Izzy went back into the other room.

“So when do you think Dolan can reopen?”

“Well, we can only spend so many hours looking through the same area again. If I can’t find anything saying it was something other than a wild animal he can go about his business.”

“You think its animals?”

Billy shrugged.

“I wondered for a minute if maybe it could be a what you call it...uh...like that fella over in England um what’s his name, uh...Jack Ripper I think it was.” Frank said.

“Yeah,” Billy said. “I remember reading about him in the paper a few times years back. He’d cut ladies wide open.”

Billy grimaced as a chill raced down his spine.

“Maybe a pissed off local trying to get back at Dolan. Heck, Billy lotta people still hate him.”

38

“Yeah, could be a drifter though. New faces come in and out every day. If it’s a person and not an animal. Those were animal prints we saw, though. Coyote is what it looked to me.”

“Be a big friggin coyote, Billy.”

Billy shook his head. He tried to forget the giant bloody paw print.

“I think I might ride out and see the Winder’s again. Maybe Rex came back home.”

Rex Winder had been the Dolan employee that had disappeared during his shift. Rumor has it, he had to choose between fighting the Army or be with Rachael his late wife. Rex changed his name officially to Rex Winder from Red Feather, after he married. They had children as well, a boy named Daniel, then a daughter named Dawn. After his wife died of the measles, he took to drinking pretty hard.

His fathers brother Halley who had survived the massacre at the Pecos but lost two sons to the Army during the battle, still lived some miles beyond the silver mine where his family once ruled. Billy had spoken to him right after Rex vanished.

“Do you know where he is?” Billy had asked him.

He didn’t speak, he just cast his world weary eyes upon him that were a dusky color. Then he said with almost a nod to Billy.

“Even if I did, do you think I’d tell a white man?”

On rare occasions Halley would come into town to trade and he never spoke during the transactions, he was still wanted by the Feds, so his shopping trips tended to be short. He’d just hand over whatever he had for a Chinese fella that ran the fur shop and he’d hand him back some silver which he never spent, at least not in Fort Sumner.

39

All of the men Halley fought alongside were dead. Billy wouldn’t have been surprised if Rex understood the futility of fighting the government when he was courting Rachael. Something Billy had first hand experience doing, that kind of useless fight could make any man resentful in his opinion.

Though he was resentful Rex was the kind of drunk who would wander aimlessly, peacefully rather than beat up on people, which suited Billy fine. Billy had known Rex, and had to throw him in the drunk tank a few times though. He still lived with his two children that were now young adults.

They lived in a tiny section of land and grew potatoes and corn on their few acres. They had survived on that land as best they could despite Rex’s drinking. No Rex wasn’t a violent drunk, but Billy took caution at all times.

A few years ago Rex had been at home indulging on Kentucky bourbon when a squirrel got under his floor boards, it kept running back and forth scratching and scurrying. The sound, according to Dawn, had her father literally ripping his hair out of his head and stuffing it into his ears.

In a sudden fit of anger he began tearing up his home looking for his rifle that Dawn, had done her best to hide but he’d found it eventually. When Billy had arrived Rex had the rifle pointed at the floor boards, it was quiet for just a second as somewhere beneath them the squirrel had started to scurry.

“Son of a bitch!” Rex shouted and pulled the trigger.

Rex laughed: “Got the furry bastard.” he said with out looking and handed Billy his rifle.

Billy came back later after tossing Rex in the cell for the night. He and Daniel pulled up the board that was shot. The pellet had gone through the floor board and had blown the vermins head off.

“Good Lord.” Dawn said quietly at the sight.

40

If Billy hadn’t been there to see it, he would never had believed it happened. When the sun was higher Billy rode to the ranch style home built out of log wood with a front yard surrounded by a chicken fence where a couple of hens walked around clucking. Walking along the wooden fence of the farm land was Dawn, holding a wooden bucket and doling out feed.

Out of the front door came Rex’s son Daniel who was a tall broad shouldered man with a neatly trimmed mustache that was as golden brown as his hair. Both had the dark brown complexion of their mother Rachael, though Daniel had the broad shoulders and barrel chest of his father. Dawn was a much shorter but was a lovely young woman with straight black hair. She noticed Billy first and slowly made her way to the sheriff, Daniel had noticed Billy and made his way over to him as well.

“Good morning, folks.”

Dawn gave a weak smile, Daniel shook his hand but did not speak or smile. The sheriff had been keeping in touch with Rex’s children since he vanished.

“I’m guessin your pa didn’t stumble home yet?”

“Naw, sir.” Daniel said with a heavy sigh.

“I read the paper today, do you think...” Dawn said visibly shaken.

“We don’t know anything for sure yet, Dawn. I got a deputy keeping an eye out for him still.”

That wasn’t entirely true, at first he was able to get George to keep a closer eye out but with five unexplained deaths he could no longer have a deputy looking for a local drunk. He was short handed as he always was. He was only allowed four deputies. He had wanted his friend Miguel Otero as a deputy. After he had written Billy’s biography it became a best seller and he had retired back to El Tiempo and successfully ran to become the towns first elected official, thanks to some help from Chris Connelly, Billy’s former lawyer that had helped free him to come home to America.

So for a while it had been just Billy and the Coe’s. The town although swimming in revenue only allowed him two more deputies in the budget. Billy had written numerous letters to the territorial

41

governor which didn’t help. The Sun had picked up on it and had a front page op-ed declaring,

‘Sheriff Billy the Kid’ ‘is unprepared for the job’ and that with ‘such experience in being undermanned, two deputies should be more than enough.’ As the governor was quoted as saying the next day.

The Sun also had a cartoon of Billy following the article. It showed Billy with exaggerated front teeth pockets emptied out holding a bowl kneeling in front of a governor drawn too look like he had been hard at work hunching over a desk.

Below the picture was the caption ‘Please, sir. Can I have some more.’ That night Isabella had found the article and spat on the cartoon followed it up with a string of curses in her native language.

“Don’t you know for certain, sheriff?” Dawn asked as her sadness turned to frustration.

He thought about holding back but, he thought about being in her shoes as Dawn looked ready to either cry or curse. Holding back now was pointless since the papers had already suggested the animals.

“Probably just some coyotes. There were animal prints close by.”

Billy noticed Daniel tense a little then shutter when he mentioned the coyotes.

“You OK, Dan?” Billy asked.

Daniel nodded weakly as he looked beyond towards the mountains.

“Yeah, goose walked on my grave I guess. I just got this feelin he’s gone.”

Dawn’s breath hitched, she believed it too, apparently as she offered no protest.

“How about your uncle? Has he been around?”

42

“I’d be surprised to see him here. He hates us.” Dawn said simply.

“Dawn!” Daniel said trying to keep her calm.

“He doesn’t care about us, Danny. He hates white people and their mongrel children.” she said with a quivering lip and a deep hurt in her eyes.

Daniel didn’t argue, he had heard the story from his father who had stood behind the front door, while Rachael confronted Halley.

“If he comes by sheriff, we’ll let you know.” Daniel said walking away from them both back towards the house.

He wished Dawn a good morning and remounted his horse. Billy headed back to town crossing the railroad tracks that you could follow all the way to the Pacific ocean, and passed the front of the black behemoth of a steam locomotive when a loud pain filled yowl rang in the air.

There were many commuters walking around, a dozen or so on the stations side walk stopped and looked in the direction where the sound came from. Billy gigged his horse around and faced west again. The land looked flat and empty but just thirty feet or so away there was a dip from an ancient river bed that had been dry for centuries. The bed dropped a good ten feet in certain areas. Bandits, animals as well as the youth nearby used it as a hiding place.

Billy trotted towards the bed not stopping the few others that were following behind him. He stopped halfway when he heard the yowl again. It was weaker but still had a painful edge in its tone. He continued forward and came to a dusty rock shelf, much like the one he hid under long ago running from Pat Garrett.

He got off the steed and walked slowly towards the edge, carefully stretching himself over the side, the stench of wild animal shit stung his nostrils. The hairs on the back of his neck turned to sharp icicles on his pasty sunburned skin. He looked down trying to figure out what he saw.

It was a large body of fur, a dusky gray with black, that was tinged with a beige color. It was only seven feet below him but the size of the tail looked immeasurable. At its other end was a set of dog like ears that looked limp and lifeless on the large animals pointy head.

43

“Jesus...” Billy muttered.

The coyote, if it could still be called that opened an eye that had a luminous green glow that he could see clearly even in the bright sun. The creature eyed Billy and gave a low growl and stood shakily on its thick furry legs. It had been eating recently, its muzzle was soaked in red gore. Its fangs were two pink white stalks in its mouth which was rimmed with green foam.

The creature slowly turned and lifted its body with a visible effort. Its snout twitched in sync with each breath it took, sounding out of breath and panting heavily though it was moving slowly. Billy had been so mesmerized by the size of it, he didn’t realize the animal was ready to pounce him.

When it made a leap for him, someone grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back nearly choking him. The coyote fell painfully in the spot Billy had stood just a moment before, he quickly stood and unholstered both of his revolvers as the animal gave another pain filled yowl.

Its tongue spilled out of its mouth covered in a foamy green muck, the brightness of its eyes was blanked out now. He watched it exhale a pneumonia like gasp before its body remained still, he gave it a shove with his booted foot but the thing was dead. Billy re-holstered his weapons and looked behind him to see who had pulled him from certain death.

Behind him stood almost a half dozen people gasping and gawking at the large animal. Some had run but they were returning, with others in tow. Three men stood close by Billy, he only recognized one of them though.

“You OK, sheriff?” asked Fred Franklin.

He had a strange flat accent and red handle bar mustache was impeccably trimmed, as usual he was wearing his avocado colored sombrero. Along side him were two men Billy didn’t know.

The short serious looking one was maybe a teacher or a banker by Billy’s guess from his appearance and the awkward way he sat on his horse. The other guy was definitely a cowboy, he wore an old timers hat and a pair dusty brown boots that had spent some time on the trail.

“I’m, OK. Thanks Fred.”

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“Save yer thank for this big fella here.” Fred said.

The big man put his hand out and smiled at the sheriff.

“I thank you for your quick reflexes, Mister...”

It was the serious looking man he had been traveling with that answered.

“I am Father Fox Mulder and this is my pupil Deacon Dana Scully. We are on an archaeological expedition in the South Western territories for a Penn University thesis and Lincoln County is one of our sites.”

“Oh excuse me. Father Mulder I didn’t...”

“It’s OK, sheriff. I don’t wear a collar, I am ordained in a reformed sect of Catholicism as taught by Saint Carlin who lived during the rein of King George the First.”

“Oh that’s very interesting, Father.” Billy said sincerely. “Thank you Deacon for saving my hide.”

“No problem. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff.”

“Why the hell is that coyote so gosh darn, big?” Fred said after taking a quick nip from a silver flask nestled in his vest pocket.

“Maybe a rare form of parasite.” said the priest.

“You can tell just by looking at it?” Billy asked the priest.

“Yes, but I did say maybe. It could be poisoned but that’s very unlikely. I only offer my opinion, sheriff.”

45

“You’re an archaeologist? That means you dig up bones of animals and things like that. Are you a doctor of some kind?” the sheriff asked.

“No, but I have spent enough time out in the field to recognize a reaction from a parasitic organism.”

Billy nodded realizing the priest probably knew what he was talking about, he knew squat about parasites.

“Well I thank you again, Deacon for your help. Where are you fellas staying?”

“Well we only arrived just today,” the priest said “and had planned on camping out. That was until we heard about your problem. Do you recommend someplace close by we can stay? We have plenty of money.”

“Yeah, the Lord’s payin.” said the Deacon called Dana who got a reproachful glance from the priest.

Billy actually laughed hard at the joke.

“I think my wife would put me out in the barn if I took money from a clergyman. Come on over to my place.”

“We thank you for your hospitality, sheriff. We certainly don’t want to impose upon you.” said the priest.

“Not at all, padre. We have a lot of room, heck it’s the least I could do for your help today.”

Just then a man came up on horse back wearing a long trench coat and stetson hat. He had to shout at a few on lookers that were in his way. The crowd was growing as the end of the day was starting and everyone would be coming in and out of the train station just behind them. He got off his horse and approached the large creature wiping sweat off his brow while he looked at the fell coyote.

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“Hey fellas, Fred Franklin here will show you gentlemen the way to my place and let Isabella know whats going on. OK, Fred?”

“A course, sheriff.”

“If y’all will excuse me I need to speak with my deputy Frank about crowd control.” Billy said gesturing for the still growing crowd to step back.

“Do you fellas have horses?”

“Yeah, we’re all set.” Dig said.

“I’ll get my horse and be back in a moment, Father.”

“No need to make haste my son. I am enjoying the scenery and need a moment for penance.”

Fred nodded dutifully and hurried away. Dig waited for the green sombrero to fall from his head when he nodded but it stayed.

“Father Mulder? Are you shitting me?” Dig asked. “Saint George Carlin? Where do you come up with this shit?”

“It was Saint Carlin during the reign of King...”

“...shit of turd mountain. Yeah I get it. So whats next?”

“I need a sample of that animal’s tissue or blood then I’ll need to go back home to do tests on it.”

“We’re leaving already?”

47

“I am, you will stay. This is the best position for us strategically, we have befriended local law enforcement and you have proven to him we are trust worthy by your actions. In the paper he was lacking deputies and I’ll wager men he can trust.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. Though I’m sure many people want to ride with the famous law man Billy The Kid.”

“Yeah, like getting a selfie with a celebrity, I get it. But we don’t care about that.” Dig said with a half smile.

“Correct. We’re just a couple of men under the employ of the Lord and Penn University...”

“...couple of atheists with a bag of gold coins...”

“...we are the only men he can trust and we will need unrestricted access to search the area. The area we need to search might be privately owned and having the law on our side may prove beneficial.”

“Yeah true. What’s a deacon?”

“He’s like an assistant to a priest.”

Fred returned with his horse and led them to a ranch style home that had a long fence made of short logs that surrounded an acre and a half and the house at its center which was made of pine wood. Off to the left yards away was a barn and a stable the could fit many of horses and cows and pigs but just had a few chickens wondering around.

On the porch was a woman holding a broom who was speaking to an older looking man who may have been informing her of the days events, AM judged by the look on the womans face. As they passed through the gate the woman on the porch noticed their arrival and quickly made her way towards them.

48

They were dismounting when she reached them.

“Mrs McCarty, this is Father Mulder and Deacon Scully, he’s the one who saved Billy.”

She approached Dig with a warm smile and open arms giving him a hug.

“Fred, will you take their horses and put them in the stable and let the sheriff know they arrived please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. I am Isabella McCarty. We are in your, debt.” she said clasping his hands in hers before embracing him again.

“Aw it’s no biggie..er um big deal.” Dig said blushing.

“Father,” she said giving AM an embrace as well. “please stay for dinner.”

AM smiled and spoke: “Se habla espaniol.”

The womans face showed an even brighter smile than before.

“Si, si, padre.

The sheriffs wife, and AM chattered briefly in Spanish as the older man on the porch walked over.

“Howdy, Father, Deacon. I’m George. Thanks fer savin my boss’s keister.”

“Just doing our moral duty, sir. Are you the deputy?” AM asked.

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“Yeah, me and cousin Frank.” George said shaking both their hands, though he hung on to Dig’s hand for another second.

“What kinda iron ya got there, Deacon?” George said with head tilted to get a clearer view of his sidearm.

“Just a revolver...” said Dig unsure if he was breaking some kind of law.

“Normally can’t let out of towners pack iron, but seein as the situation bein what it is, and y’all bein men of the cloth, I think it’ll be OK. Just don’t make me regret it.”

“No problem, deputy. I promise you I wont.” Dig said sincerely.

“I believe you, sir. Though I think it’s sort of a silly law. I mean the second amendment says we got a right to bare arms, but at least it don’t say we gotta arm bears. Am I right?” George said with childish guffaw.

“George, estupido joke,” she said despite a small smile. “isn’t Billy expecting you?”

With a schoolboy smile he tilted his hat and said good day before riding off. Isabella gestured for them to enter her home.

“Are you sure, we aren’t imposing, Mrs McCarty?”

“De nada, Padre. This home housed almost a dozen men decades ago with still more room in the barn. We have plenty of room for guests.” she said.

It was a beautiful house that looked like a slice of the true American West, Dig felt that unreality of time travel wash over him again as he looked around the home. The scent of wild lilac and leather hung in the air and the all time country smell of fresh hay and wood embraced him in unexpected happiness.

50

All the furniture was built from pine possibly buy The Kid himself. AM looked around finally surmising who the house originally belonged too.

“Is this the former home of John Tunstall?”

“Si. George, Frank and our dear sweet Susan who is visiting family in California right now, saved up the money for Billy so we could have a home. Oh, Padre, would you bless our house?”

“This house has already been blessed by friendship and love, Mrs McCarty.” AM said bowing his head.

She smiled and led them to a room with a pair of beds and an end table of finished wood with a lantern sitting between them. On the far wall was a large window that looked out towards the road coming on to the property. The room was warm and felt cozy.

“I hope this room is OK for you, padre?”

“Perfect, my dear.”

“And I am making a whole chicken for dinner. I hope you like, chicken Padre.”

“I was just commenting the other day to Deacon Scully how badly I was craving a drumstick.

Wasn’t I, deacon?”

“Yeah, well the truth is out there.” Dig said pushing looking out the bedrooms lone window. “I think you have a visitor, ma’am.”

Isabella turned and looked out the window where someone on a horse approached. Isabella’s face lit up when the person dismounted.

“Oh, Padre. Please excuse me a moment.”

She left the room quickly, as Dig continued to look out the window.

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“I wonder who that could be?” AM asked.

The person on the horse was wearing a black straw riding hat and a riding blouse that showed the rider was no man. She removed her hat and a cascade of sandy brown hair fell down to her shoulders. Her neck was long and elegant and her cheeks had a fresh pink hue after good long workout. Her demeanor was shinning with youth, vibrancy and rebellion.

“Wow, she’s gorgeous.” Dig said “Who is she?”

“I don’t know. But her face is familiar.”

Dig saw Isabella come outside and they greeted in a warm embrace of two friends that missed each other greatly.

“Alice Roosevelt Longworth.” AM said.

“Who?”

“President Roosevelt’s oldest child.”

“Frank or Teddy?”

“The latter.”

“Longworth? Was she adopted?”

“No she married a man named Longworth. Though I’m not positive when, or maybe in this altered universe she never married at all. She wasn’t known to be a figure around here in our universe but here she looks to be at home.

52

Isabella and Alice were outside still talking, Isabella then pointed towards the window. Alice looked and saw Dig. He watched as her face noticeably softened and she began to fan herself with her hat. Dig could see her eyes and he could see the electricity in them.

“I think she’s looking at me.” Dig said.

“Are you worried?” AM asked with a raised eyebrow.

“About what? She could just be flustered from the ride. ”

AM nodded and opened a door to what he thought was a closet but instead opened to a small room with a sink and mirror. He turned the spigot but nothing came out.

“Is that a bathroom? I don’t see a toilet.” Dig said.

“I saw an outhouse around back, there’s also pump. They must use that for water, the spigot isn’t working.”

“Oh well. An outhouse beats the bushes, I wonder how cold the water will be.”

AM and Dig took impromptu showers in a wash tub in the sheriff’s back yard before dinner.

Alice who had gone to her hotel room to freshen up, returned just as the sun was setting.

“Would you prefer I call you Deacon?” she asked after Isabella introduced them.

“No, Dana is fine.”

“Dana, there is something I have to ask, do you ever hear confessions?” she asked with a smile that was coy.

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Alice wore a lovely rose colored dress that was cut to show off her long neck. Her hair hand been put up in a knot seemingly held up by a single pearl that matched the color of her gown.

“Well, Ms. Roosevelt,”

“Alice.”

“...uh, Alice, ya know if he gets backed up. Lots of sinning.” Dig said with an awkward smile, sipping his apple tea.

Her smile grew the slightest bit.

“Nothing nice to say about it?” she asked.

“No.” he said

“Well in that case I insist you sit next to me at dinner.”

Dig nodded as Alice excused herself to assist Isabella in the kitchen. AM holding a cup of tea approached.

“She seemed interested in you.”

“You sensed that too, eh? Well I am a man of the cloth, celibacy and confessions and all that. I’m married to the lord.”

“Well actually you’re not clergy, you can’t perform any sacraments like confession or last rites.”

“Really? Do you think she might know that?” Dig asked looking back towards the kitchen.

54

“She must otherwise she probably wouldn’t be flirting with you. Not with her father being a sitting US president, that would be too scandalous for even a Kennedy. A deacon though, can marry and have children if he wanted.”

It was then that the front door opened and Billy walked in, removing his hat and placing it on a coat rack. He was unbuckling his gun belt when he noticed them.

“Evening sheriff.” said AM with a nod.

“Evenin, gents. Glad to see you made it here OK.”

Alice returned from the kitchen with Isabella carrying out dishes. Dig walked over to assist them but Isabella shooed him away good naturedly.

“You’re our guests, please sit.”

The meal that was laid out was hearty and good, consisting of a large chicken cooked to a dark gold brown glistening with juices. The bird was surrounded by a plethora of roasted potatoes and carrots. There was also a steaming bowl of green beans.

“Did you grow these vegetables yourself, Mrs McCarty?” asked Dig.

“Just the potatoes. The others I purchased at the store, almost fresh I’m afraid.”

“Yeah the silver mine brings in more varieties of food now they have more trains coming through bringing in all kinds of stuff too. The other day I saw Dolan got one of them moving picture machines...uh a nickel something.”

“A nickelodeon.” AM said.

“Yeah, Father that’s the name. Had a little hand crank to turn it and everything. That Dolan has money to burn. He offered a big cash prize to anyone who can hunt down another one of those coyotes.”

55

“Where is the one that we saw today?” AM asked cutting his chicken sounding disinterested.

“Well me, Frank and a couple a folks put it out back in the barn, it was drawing too many looky lous. It was dark by the time we got it here so I’ll bury it in the morning.”

“Billy, that thing will draw all kinds of vermin.” Isabella said frowning.

“Take it easy, love. It’s too cool right now and it’ll be underground by daylight.”

“You’re not going to have the animal looked at, sheriff?” Alice asked “Surely something like this deserves some kind of inquiry.”

Billy nodded but it was a reluctant nod.

“I suppose I could, but you gotta remember Alice, that’s Dolan’s mine. I could do an investigation, which is going to interfere with his mine and that’s a lot of jobs and money for the locals...”

“Exactly,” Alice interjected “which is precisely the reason...”

“Alice, all I can do is let him hunt out any remaining coyotes and let him clean up the mess. I can’t do anything now anyway, the body won’t keep long enough for anybody to check it out. If Dolan gets one he can foot the bill not the tax payers. In the end that’s all anybody worries about.

I’m an elected official, if the people don’t care about what it is, I can’t either.”

“You sound like my father.” she said dryly.

“Well those are the facts, my dear. How is the President doin?”

“Don’t change the subject, Sheriff. You’re not at all curious as to why this animal has grown so large?”

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“I didn’t say that, I just said I can’t afford to take a personal interest in this. I’ll let Dolan pay to hunt one down if it makes him feel better. If I try to keep the silver mines closed for further investigation, he’ll just turn it into a high stakes pissing match, pardon my mouth, Father, saying I’m just doin it to as pay back for all those years we were at fighting.”

Alice gave her own reluctant nod.

“I can help you bury it tomorrow, sheriff.” said Dig.

“Thank you, kindly. We may need a strong back to move the thing.”

“What do you think, Dana?” Alice asked.

“Well, I think he maybe right Alice.”

“Really?” she said watching him closely.

“Yeah. Let Dolan pay for it, things move quicker in the private sector...when you’re wasting your own money people don’t care. Plus if Dolan finds something significant it won’t get caught up in...uh...”

“Bureaucratic red tape.” AM said cutting his chicken into tiny morsels.

“Yeah exactly, Father, It’ll be Dolan’s money not tax money so things will get done faster since he’ll just write a blank check. He’s not beholden to anyone.”

“It also means he doesn’t have to tell the public either, Dana.” Alice rebutted.

“True, very true. But rich men love to brag, Alice.” said Dig.

It was silent for only a second before Billy seconded his sentiment.

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“Exactly the point I was trying to make, Deacon.”

Dig had expected Alice to be angry, but he looked at her and saw her eyes had that look of electricity again. She’s the type that loves a good fight, Dig thought. Italian foreplay a guy he knew from South Philly would’ve called it.

“Will you be spending the evening here with us, Alice?” Isabella asked.

“No, I have a dinner party to attend later and will endure mind numbing conversation on behalf of the local GOP as a favor to father.”

“How is your father handling his last few years in office?” asked Billy.

“Well enough, though I know he’d like to go for a third time. I think he dreads retirement as much as I do tonights party. But enough about my problems, tell me Dana what types of artifacts do you hope to find?” she asked.

“Oh well the usual...old native things.”

“Yes, arrow heads, stone work, pottery,” AM said with a smile. “what’s the land like, Sheriff?”

“Well that depends on where you’re going to dig.”

“Not very far from the mine actually.”

“Well it’s a mix or rocks, dirt, and sand. It’s rugged country, almost no one other than the miners are out there.”

“Almost?” Dig asked.

“Just an Indian Chief. Halley White Feather.”

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“Halley? That’s an unusual name for a Native American.” said AM.

“Yeah, he was born the night Halley’s Comet flew over that’s how get got the name. That land all of it once belonged to his tribe, but the government was always chipping away at it as the years passed. By the time Dolan struck silver there was little left for their tribe. He was a chief, his brother too, they both fought the feds at the massacre at Pecos. Only Halley came back alive.

“What was the massacre at the Pecos?” Dig asked.

“Well, back in 1880 there was an incident between some federal troops and a young Indian women from Halley’s tribe.”

“What happened?” asked AM.

“Well that depends on who you ask. A member of Halley’s tribe said his daughter was raped by four or five of the men. The soldiers said that she was a pro they picked up in town and had paid her for the sex and that one of them caught her trying to pick his pocket so they roughed her up.”

“How badly did they hurt her?” asked Dig.

“Pretty bad from what I heard, she couldn’t eat solid foods anymore from what they did to her face. I wasn’t around when it happened, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you why I wasn’t around, but word got around quick about it, papers covered it some. Halley and the girls father went to the soldiers senior officer. A Lieutenant I think, he lined up the soldiers in question and asked them bold face if what Halley claimed was true. And each one spouted off a crisp no sir, and were dismissed.”

“That was all he did?”

“Yeah, so Halley went to Sheriff Kimball.”

“Did he investigate?” asked AM

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“About has half assed as the Lieutenant did. So they took matters into their own hands. Halley and every man and boy of fighting age went to fight. Like I said Halley was the only one to come back alive.”

“Did the government ever come for him?” AM asked.

“No, padre. He was just one man left to look over all the women and children left. Every once an a while who ever happened to be sheriff would go down and remind them that they were better off south or farther west. Or to try an apprehend Halley, but no ever tried because everyone wanted to put it behind them.”

“Then Dolan struck silver?” AM asked.

“Right again, Father. They found silver then they found the water, that’s why Halley is the only one left out there.”

“The water? Do you mean the river?” asked Dig.

“No, but the river does come into play. They dug an off shoot tunnel to keep equipment, when one of the miners dropped a pick ax that fell through the ground and they found a culvert. The Pecos was dumping into a reservoir. Took until a few weeks ago to get the pump installed and working. NM Springs, was the out fit that put it in.”

“Who is NM Springs?” asked Dig.

“It’s what the papers are calling a utility company. They want to bring water and electricity to Sumner. It’s run buy some of Dolan’s poker buddies.”

“I thought Mr. Dolan couldn’t because of a monopoly?” Alice interjected.

“It’s not against the law for him to be influential. My opinion is he is a silent partner of NM

Springs, they didn’t exist until Dolan found the reservoir. Can’t prove it I’m afraid, and I did try.

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I got a stack of correspondents from my friend Chris Connelly sitting on my office desk, but...”

Billy shrugged his shoulders before he continued.

“In order to lay the pipe though he had to clear everyone off the land since Halley still had a piece of it. So an order was given by a judge, another one of Dolan’s poker pals, allowing him to make a treaty from 1807 that gave Halley’s tribe the land, null and void. It’s a common thing the feds do to run the natives off with a lot of legal mumbo jumbo.

“How did they break the treaty?” asked Dig.

“The judged said that since there was less than fifty members left on the land, the treaty was no longer valid, making it public land and any remaining members of the tribe must vacate the public land or face criminal prosecution. This public land was put up for auction and purchased by NM Springs. NM Springs sent out a squad of Pinkerton’s to break some skulls but that didn’t last long, too expensive I guess. Many stayed for a while despite the attacks, but most of who was left after the fighting were women, children and some elderly.

“I’m sure Dolan paid the ones that were desperate and killed everybody else in that tribe except Halley of course. If anyone is caught even squatting on that land they’re supposed to be arrested on sight. Hell technically I’m supposed to arrest Halley if I see him. He has a warrant on him, for trespassing on private land.” Billy scoffed.

“That’s horribly ironic.” AM said shaking his head.

“I know a lot of people got killed on both sides. But I know what it’s like to be driven out of your home unjustly, and have those closest to you killed. Well, you can see why I have no running water in our home. The spigot had been put in before I ever came back and come summer I’m having it removed, Father. There’ll be no running water in my house, not as long as Dolan gets something out of it.”

“You’re a good man sheriff. Have you seen Halley recently?” AM asked.

“Yeah, not too long ago when I went looking for his nephew, Rex Winder. He’s the fella that’s missing, and the only one not to join in the fight after the massacre.”

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“Why?” Dig asked.

“He was in love. A missionary from the east, Rachael Gamble. Her mother is the minsters sister in law. Rachael was only supposed to stay in Sumner for a year and then head to California for school. Their being together caused a lot of problems for Rex and his family. They got along like a loving family, but then Rachael gets sick with the measles, their kids were still little at the time she was quarantined, she didn’t live very long after that.” Billy said looking down slightly, smiling just the slightest when Isabella’s hand found his and squeezed.

He looked up at his wife and gave her a small smile before continuing the story.

“He started drinking not long after they buried her. He’d been on the booze for years but he didn’t get really sloppy though until he started working at the mine.”

“That must of pissed off his uncle. Do you think that Halley might have something to do with Rex disappearing, or the others that were killed?” Dig asked.

“Well I can’t say anything for sure since it’s still being investigated, but it could be just wild animals. One of em could have taken off with Rex if it was a big one like near the station today.

He could’ve just died walking out in the desert, last time he was seen was at the mine but he was drunk according to the guy Rex relieved.

“ The desert can kill a drunk quickly. But as far as Halley being a suspect, I haven’t ruled him out officially yet. It was once his family’s land, if Dolan felt like blaming it on Halley he has that right, Halley has a motive. He is a tough man, a warrior I guess would be the best word for him.

I don’t believe he’d kill a man maliciously unless provoked, I know that feeling.”

“I guess we’ll have to avoid that area since Dolan now owns it.” AM said though Dig knew that they would go regardless of who owned the land.

“Hell he’d never know. It’ll be at least a year before pipeline gets laid out, and I don’t plan on telling Dolan you’re visiting. My advice would be keep your firearm there handy, Deacon, for the wildlife.” Billy said giving Dig a friendly wink.

“I’ll do that, sheriff.”

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After a dessert of peach and apple pies served with fresh milk there was a knock at the front door.

“It’s a carriage for you, Alice.” said Billy. “I told the fella you’d be a few minutes.”

“Goodness, eight already?” she said with a sigh. “Would you care to escort me to my carriage, Dana?”

“Sure.” Dig said.

He hadn’t anticipated her attention and was not blind to her beauty, but he did not feel around her the way he had around Marisa. Before dinner he would have laughed at the idea of Alice having a crush on him, but it appeared to be that or what ever it was called in early twentieth century America.

He helped her put on her coat and opened the door for her, she didn’t say thank you but gave him a warm smile and a nod. The sky was black ink specked with silver dots that filled the sky. They both looked up at the roof of the nighttime world with awe.

“Dana, I’ve spent many years out in the wide open sky, but I always loose my breath when I look up at the sky here.”

“I know what you mean. I’d spend hours as a kid just staring up there.”

“You too? My father said it was silly too stare off into space but I couldn’t help it.”

Dig had the sense she was trying to learn more about him so he tried to keep the conversation on her.

“So is your dinner party far away?” he asked.

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She held out her arm and Dig thought at first she was falling then he realized he was supposed to take her arm while she walked to the carriage. It was one of those old customs you didn’t see except in books or movies about an earlier age. Victorian wasn’t it? He’d have to ask AM later.

“Not really, they send the carriage because they think I’m the Queen of England and can’t ride a horse. They are just boring and stiff people that just want to brown nose me hoping I’ll mention their name to my father. I only hope I don’t fall asleep from all their bullshit stories of masculinity.”

She turned and looked at him as they stood next to a carriage that looked right out of an old west movie. It was black and smelled of fresh paint. The inside was plush with stuffed red cushions that looked like real velvet. Dig wondered how many years it would be before women like her would be escorted to limousines.

“I don’t suppose you’d escort me to the party as well? Your encounter today might liven things up.”

“No I’m sorry, Alice. I have a lot of research ahead of me and Father Mulder is a stickler for keeping busy.”

“Well perhaps another time. I hope to see you tomorrow, it is the weekend you know.” she said as she climbed the two steps that led into the carriage.

“Is it?” he said opening the small door for her and closing behind her.

“Losing track of days are you?” she said with a laugh as she put her head through the doors’

window.

“Too much time on the road, I guess. Have a safe trip and try not to wade to deep in the BS

without some boots.”

“Good evening, Dana.” she said with a hearty laugh giving him one final pert smile before sticking her head back in.

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It was ten thirty before AM and Dig retired to their room for the evening. AM sat Buddha style on a chair with arms crossed by the window waiting for the shine of a light at the other end of the house to go out before he ventured to the barn. Dig sat on his bed boots off and hat hung on the bed post, swiping his finger across the Qpads screen.

He was looking at a biography of Theodore Roosevelt. It was on a page that showed Alice Roosevelt wearing a long yellow and white dress with her hair wrapped in a bun. Dig felt his heart skip a beat, she was indeed beautiful.

“She’d would definitely be in Maxim’s top 5. She wanted me to go to the party with her.”

“Definitely a vibe at the table tonight.”

“So when you heading back?”

“As soon as I get a sample. I don’t want to wait until morning. You’ll have to cover for me, I don’t think I will be gone more than a few days.”

“Yeah, a few days in 2011. That could be a few months here.”

“Or hours. I’ll leave you the gold in case it is a few months, we don’t want to become a permanent fixture or a take advantage of anyones hospitality.”

“Do you think we need to be worried? About a plague or disease, I mean. We don’t know what killed that...that...”

“Monster?” AM asked with an eyebrow raised.

Though Dig caught just the briefest of looks at the animal before it keeled over, he felt blown over by its size. Legs at least three long, tall enough to bring it at eye to eye with a man. And a large pointed head with a pair of sickly green eyes. The shaking hulk of its stinky fur and immense body made monster a formidable term.

“No, monsters aren’t real. That’s some fucked up animal, it was sick. You’re not worried?”

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“No. I can assure you Dig, that creature died because of a parasite. My guess is a waterborne one. There was plenty of water at a nearby river yet it was panting heavily and its tongue showed signs of dehydration.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Before we went with Mr Franklin, one of the eyes of the beast began to bleed. It may have died of a stroke or heart attack because of the extreme dehydration brought on by the parasite.”

“Extreme dehydration, that’s like when you don’t drink enough Mountain Dew right? But all kidding aside, what makes an animal grow that god damn big? Are there parasites that do that, make you grow huge and turn your eyes green?”

“None that I know of, perhaps a cube was destroyed but not how it was in universe two.” AM

said.

“Destroyed, but not by fire.” Dig said aloud but mostly to himself. “If they were blasting out a mine, maybe a cube got pulverized by rock. It’s in the reservoir below the mountain, it can’t be in the river more animals would be a cranked out.”

“Running water..” AM said.

“Huh?”

“NM Springs wants to give Sumner running water to everybody, I would bet the reservoir would be easier legally and financially to tap than the Pecos River. If they do that then everyone here will be exposed to the parasite. The contents of the cube can exaggerate the effects of the Bubonic Plague, it can do so as well to a simpler type of organism such as a parasite. ”

“So we destroy the reservoir?”

“If it comes to that yes, if we can prevent a disaster like the the one in the second universe we must.”

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“Well at least if we get caught doing that there’s no Guantanamo Bay for us to get sent too.”

“No they’ll just hang us.” AM said sounding calm.

“Great, now I’ll have an excuse to wear a scarf. Will the samples you take be enough to figure out all that shit you just said, minus us getting hung.”

“I should be able to yes.”

Dig got up and went into the pocket of his duster and removed the knife that AM had traded Danny.

“Here, I sharpened it.”

AM took it and quickly handed it back.

“After Gettysburg I decided to carry a weapon,” he said removing a dagger from his back pack sitting beside him.

It was six inches long from the tip to its black iron handle.

“I don’t think I am ready for a gun,” AM said and put the dagger back. “I think their lights went out.”

AM quickly put on his boots and handed Dig the small sack of coins that were mostly gold with some silver now mixed in as change from their purchases earlier, while he gently lifted open the window. AM put on his duster and placed one leg out the window and climbed over with the other.

Dig handed him his back pack and whispered: “You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure.” he said putting on his pack. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

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“What should I do, while you’re gone.”

“If you want to go searching until I get back, you may as well. Heeds the Sheriff’s advice though.”

“Yeah, no worries.”

The next morning Dig awoke to a sunny but chilly morning. Isabella made porridge for breakfast and the strongest pot of coffee Dig had ever tasted.

“Will, Father Mulder be joining us, Deacon?” asked Isabella.

“Well I’m afraid he left just before sunrise to get the soonest train to Albuquerque for an emergency conclave that he had forgotten about.” Dig said with a disappointed smile.

Billy had come in from outside shirtless and dripping wet, and wearing a pair of pants that was grimy with either mud or blood.

“Well love, it’s in the hole. Morning Deacon.” said Billy who despite looking exhausted gave a large buck toothed smile.

“I would have helped, sheriff.’ said Dig sincerely.

“Aw it’s not a big deal. Me, Frank and George did OK. Besides, you’re our guest. Excuse me, I need a shirt or else my wife will try getting after me.”

“You! Go out side and clean off.” she said in a harrumph and smacked his shoulder with a dish towel though it had been in a playful way.

“Please sit and have some porridge, Deacon.”

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“So Father Mulder has gone to a conclave, my wife tells me.” Billy said after he returned with a fresh set of clothes.

“I wanted to ask you. What is a conclave, Deacon?” asked Isabella curiously.

“Ah yes,” Dig said thinking quickly. “it is when priests are tested for a quickening as declared by Saint Duncan McCloud who said unto the Lord: There can be only one.”

“One what?” asked Billy who was also fascinated.

“Ah, well one Jesus of course.” Dig said hoping they would talk about something else.

“Forgive our ignorance, Deacon. Billy and I are Methodists and we have never met a Catholic before.”

“That’s cool, uh... I mean fine my dear. It’s a reformed sect of the Catholic... sect of Saint George Carlin.” he was trying to remember if that was what AM told them.

“Would you care to join us for church this morning, Deacon? You wouldn’t get in trouble with Father Mulder would you for going to a Methodist church?” Isabella asked.

It wasn’t as if AM would care if he went or not, but he felt obligated to go all the same as he was a guest of the most important lawman in the county. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was delivering the sermon or anything.

“I don’t think he’d mind,” Dig said with a smile. “thanks for the invite.”

“Maybe Alice will be there as well, Deacon.” Billy said with a small smile.

“Billy, don’t tease him. Alice is a wonderful lady, Deacon. She is out spoken, some like that Longworth man felt it unladylike.”

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“Did Alice marry him?” Dig asked.

“No, thank the Lord. Ese hombre bobalicon!” she said throwing a hand in the air.

“Easy, love.” Billy said fighting back a smile.

“No empieces.”

“Izzy and I met him and he was sort of an...”

“He was an asshole, Billy. Pardon my language, Deacon.” Isabella said and made the sign of the cross. “He felt she was too out spoken.”

Dig thought for a moment, Alice seemed like the type of person who would fit in fine as a women of the early twenty first century. Duh, it’s 1906. He chided himself. Women still were unable to vote. The ass backwards mentality that women were see and not heard and inferior to men was still the dominant attitude in the early twentieth century.

“Well, my dear as the good book says ‘judge not lest ye be judged.” Dig said raising his cup wondering if that was an actual bible verse and not some thing he heard on TV.

“Well said Deacon.” Billy said raising his own cup to Dig.

“Amen.” said Isabella.

Dig felt like he had run a mile back home in the woods of Porter. He wasn’t accustomed to lying so much. He wasn’t nervous but felt bad about being so dishonest to Billy and his wife but they hadn’t come here to make friends or to woo the President’s daughter. After the church service he’d have to do some searching.

Though the desert could be hiding more of those messed up coyotes, he couldn’t sit around waiting. That would drive him nuts as it almost did before he met...but it wasn’t so bad this time.

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Here though he could mingle and talk to people this time around. He wouldn’t have to sit in a room letting his thoughts drift to her again.

“Deacon, are you OK?” Isabella asked wide eyed.

Dig looked away from the bowl of porridge he had been staring into and at Isabella who looked alarmed.

“What, I’m sorry...”

“You look pale. Are you ill?” Isabella asked.

Dig could have lied but he didn’t. This wasn’t something he could deny in any way.

“Someone I loved. She died a while back and...sometimes I’ll see or hear something and I just get caught up in memories. It’s hard to explain.”

“I know what you mean, Deacon. I know, you can believe that.” the Sheriff said with sympathy.

After breakfast, Dig insisted on clearing the table and cleaning the dishes so Isabella could prepare for church. Doing the dishes reminded him of his grandmother from Lancaster. She told Dig stories about growing up on a farm.

They had a bucket for left over food they gave to a pig as a slop mix and went out back in the yard to use the pump to rinse off the dishes. Dig thought it strange when he done those two exact things here, then realized this was about the point in time his grandmother was a little girl.

“Ya friggin derp.” he said scolding himself.

Dig had been drying the last dish back inside the kitchen when the Coe cousins arrived.

“You guys joining us for church?” asked Dig.

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“Naw, too god damn busy. Oops sorry, Deacon.” said Frank.

“Shit, no worries.” Dig said.

Frank laughed though and slapped Dig on the shoulder cheerfully.

“Hell, George says you was an OK fella. He was right, don’t tell him that though or he’ll get all uppity.”

“What you sayin bout me other there?” asked George while serving himself porridge which was left on the stove.

“So the boss says you and the padre wanna search out the ole reservation. Hope you don’t forget your shooter.”

“Should I be worried about Halley?”

Dig had expected Frank to laugh the question off but instead he saw this man turn serious.

“Well Deacon, he don’t talk to outsiders. Outsiders meaning white men if rumors are true.”

“What rumors?”

“I’d heard he would skin any man, white or not, that tried to enter his land.”

“Didn’t the sheriff...”

“Well yeah but Billy’s the law. Just be mindful that he may not like someone digging up his relatives even if only just to look at. Not meaning any offense a course, Deacon. I’d just hate to see a nice fella get hurt.”

72

“I’ll do my best deputy. No worries.”

The sheriff, his wife and Dig rode their horses to church after the Coe’s left. The church was a former school house that was being renovated to expand its walls for the growing population.

The outer structure was surrounded by scaffolding that was deserted today. The double sided doors were open wide to let in the sunshine and fresh air.

At the top of a set of short steps to the door stood a man in a dark suit and woman in a stiff blue pastel dress, greeting the parishioners that entered. Billy was helping his wife off the horse when a group of men and women came over.

“Sheriff, is it true? Did some sick coyote eatin up Butch and Chad? Is there more?!” said a man with a pitiful look.

“Hell Trevor, you read in the paper what I said, don’t start a panic. I said there could be, don’t you know how to read?”

A few nervous laughs were emitted, but they sounded scared. Billy felt his wife’s hand caress his back. He took a deep breath and spoke to them.

“Everyone needs to stay calm, it’s just an over grown coyote.”

“I saw it, Sheriff!” shouted a woman from the back. “It’s was a giant!”

“I know, but it was just a sick animal to big to get outta its own way. Jack Buckley! Is Jack here?”

“Here, sheriff!” said a man in the back with a long leathery face and sun faded straw bowler upon his head.

“Jack, when your little cousin got hurt by them pair a mountain lions. Was they big?”

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The old cowboy nodded and said: “Big, sheriff. And then I hunted them down and and the wife made my cousin a new blanket and a stew.”

The people gathered gave a hearty laugh and the tension in the air departed.

“They’re just animals. Sick ones at that, and this is our home, we just need to take caution. They can be killed, like any other vermin.”

“So you siding with Dolan?You sayin we should hunt them down?” asked another man biting his lip nervously.

“I’m saying we don’t need to be afraid.”

“Now, now that is enough.” said the man in the dark suit that was greeting parishioners. “The sheriff is here, as are we all, to share in the good news.”

The pastor made a come one gesture to ever one but stayed back a moment to shake the sheriffs hand.

“Thanks, Pastor Gamble. I’m sorry about all the hub bub.”

“I understand, sheriff. Isabella lovely to see you as always.”

“Thank you pastor. I hope it is alright we brought a guest this morning. Pastor Gamble, this is Deacon Dana Scully. He is a member of the Catholic Church.”

“Really?” The Pastor said wide eyed. “I’ve never met a Catholic before, I would be please to welcome any member of God’s extended family.”

“Well thank you, pastor.” Dig said with a winning smile awaiting more questions about a religion he knew virtually nothing about.

“Would you like to give a sermon?” The Pastor asked with a charming honest smile.

74

“Oh...well...”

“Ahem.” said the skinny looking woman in the stiff blue dress that was standing beside him on the church steps.

“Oh almost time to start.” said Pastor Gamble pushing up a sleeve and looking at his wrist.

“What is that on your arm, Pastor.” said Billy turning his head to get a better view.

“Why it’s called a wrist watch, sheriff. The man who sold it to me said they are going to replace pocket watches.” he said before hurrying inside.

It was a familiar ceremony to Dig, who had gone to a few Methodist services while he had been dating a girl, named Kay back in high school. The residents of his home town were predominantly Methodist, some like Kay’s parents, were devout. He had to go to church with her family if he wanted to be allowed to go out with her, at first it even seemed like she was a bit of a holy roller too. When her parents weren’t around though she dropped the act and would turn into a real wildcat, Dig thought back and chuckled.

The inside of the building was mostly bare on the walls, the stain glasses windows were partly covered with tarp. There were rows of pews which were all filled, most had sat behind the rows of pews in wooden chairs. The pastor with the wrist watch welcomed the congregation while in the corner sat a little old lady with shiny white hair tied into a tight bun play an organ that looked like it could swallow her whole as she played a mellow hymn.

“Today, I would like to ask you something. What is God’s love? Is it the sun that rises in the morning, or the bountiful harvest provided by his generous hands? There are many answers to this question.

“I have told you my answer every Sunday for many years. But today I would like to ask some one else that question. We have a new friend today from the Catholic Church.” The pastor said gesturing to Dig who had been sitting up front with Billy and his wife.

Dig felt alarm fill him as the pastor smiled at him warmly, possibly about to invite him up to speak.

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“This is Deacon Dana Scully. Please come join me.”

A squeak escaped his throat as he looked to Isabella and Billy who nodded encouragingly to go up.

“This is also the young man who saved our sheriff from the feral coyote yesterday. A very courageous gentleman from what I hear.”

A short welcome of applause greeted Dig as he approached the Pastor.

“Deacon,” the Pastor said giving Dig a warm friendly handshake. “we would be honored if you might share with us what you believe God’s love is.”

Dig stood in front of a podium that was a simple flat square of wood on a narrow column. All that sat on it was a glass of water and a leather bound book that was either a bible or a hymnal.

“Hello.” Dig said in a calm voice.

“Huh?”

“Speak up!” shouted someone in the back.

“Hello.” Dig said much louder after clearing his throat.

The crowd didn’t bother Dig, but he was clueless as to what he should say or do. Tell a story about Jesus, or something. He knew very little about Jesus besides the basics, such being born on Christmas and dying on Easter. He’d seen his share of movies but the only religious movie he ever seen was The Exorcist, that story wouldn’t work.

“I have a story,” he said smiling as best he could. “about what is love...”

‘baby don’t hurt me, no more’ Haddaway sang in his head

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He hated that song.

“...uh what is love? I mean God’s love?”

Dig thumbed the edge of podium he stood at, his mouth dry as paper. He took a sip of water, which was warm and didn’t help slake his thirst. Damn, did they invent the refrigerator yet? Just one cube of ice for the water, one cube as big as an...

“an iceberg.” Dig said aloud looking at the glass of water.

Dig saw a few of the people sitting up front looked confused but listening intently to his words.

“God’s love is like an iceberg.” Dig said with a nod thinking of the perfect story to tell.

Fifteen minutes later, Dig was finishing the story which held the attention of everyone listening.

He told a cliff notes version of this famous love story but Dig felt he got his point across. There were even a few people, both men and women, who were dabbing their eyes with a handkerchief.

“So Jack, dies hanging on to a big wooden door, much like Jesus died on a wooden cross.” Dig said the word wooden emphatically.

“The iceberg which is mankind, destroyed the ship which is God’s love, a love which allowed Rose...Rose meaning God’s children….” Dig pointed out with authority.

“To ride the door to salvation and go to heaven so she could ride an elephant or fly a plane which you can do in heaven but only if you’re saved. The end, uh Amen.”

“Amen.” the parishioners said in unison as many nodded their heads agreeably to the story of Jack and Rose and the ship of dreams, as Dig had called the ship in the story.

A short time later the service ended with the pastor asking for funds to send to the families of Butch and Chad for funeral expenses. Dolan’s employees had funeral coverage as part of the

77

employee contract every worker was required to sign before being hired. However it was argued by Dolan’s lawyers that the mine didn’t kill Butch or Chad so therefore Dolan could not be forced to pay.

Dig had gotten up to leave with The McCarty’s when a cluster of church members all women, mostly young, came to great the new arrival, and to speak with him. Dig looked at Billy and his wife exasperated.

“Hey you guys go on with out me. I might be a while.”

“If you get out before noon come to the house, we’re gonna have a barbecue.” Billy said with hearty laugh as he escorted his wife outside.

It was an hour before Dig could politely decline all the invitations to a Sunday afternoon feast or for a quiet stroll to talk about scripture as one young lady said. Which made Dig have to walk away before laughing in her face, as that was the same kind of thing Kay said if she wanted to mess around without arousing her parents suspicion.

When Dig finally exited the church, everyone had gone except for one person. Beside Dig’s horse was a brown white Mayer that stood peaceably while having it’s nuzzle stroked by Alice.

She was wearing a lovely white dress, its lacy fabric was being gently rustled by a soft breeze.

Dig felt his heart beat a little quicker at how beautiful she looked in the shine of the desert sun.

She was without a doubt a ten in Digs mind, however the desire was not exactly the same as when he saw Marisa. He realized one day he would have to move on from Marisa, but he did not believe that day had come yet nor would it for long time. Alice saw Dig and smiled as he approached placing his hat upon is head.

“Ms. Roosevelt.” Dig said with a tip of his hat that would have looked corny to anyone from Dig’s time.

“I thought I told you to call me, Alice, Dana.”

Dig laughed and said: “Well I guess I let my manners get the best of me.”

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She returned his smile with her own.

“Where are all your admirers? Surely you did not deny them more tales about the ship of dreams? That would be very unchristian of you.”

Dig felt heat rush to his face, a nervous half smile appeared as he spoke.

“So did you stay behind just to tease me?”

“No,” Alice said with a smile. “I was on my way to the McCarty’s ranch and saw you were still here and thought maybe you would like a riding companion. Unless you would prefer some solitude?”

Although she was teasing him, her question had been serious. She was being careful not to overstep her boundaries.

“No, I don’t mind.”

They rode for a few minutes in the late Sunday morning quiet before Alice asked about AM.

“So where did Father Mulder run off to?”

“He had an emergency conclave to attend.”

“Isn’t a conclave when they choose a new pontiff?” Alice asked him offhandedly.

“Yes, well a, uh conclave is any event, where a group of clergymen or a gaggle as it’s sometimes called, gather to decided what they’ll be conclaving.”

“He looks very uptight. He reminds me of Nicholas.”

“Nicholas?”

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“Just a former acquaintance. I had considered marrying him.”

“Oh no, hell, AM...uh Father Mulder he’s very goal orientated is all. He’s kind of all business but he’s a good guy when you get to know him. So what happened between you and Nicholas?”

“Oh same old story. I was supposed to change, and I was almost willing too. But I had friends, most especially Isabella to get me to wake up and smell the coffee beans.” she said giving Dig a small smile.

“What did she get you to realize?”

“That love means never having to be who you are not, whether it be loving yourself or someone else you must be who you are. What do you think?”

“Well, if you can’t love yourself or the person you are I don’t think you can love anyone else.

Everybody loses confidence or screws up now and again, but you can’t let your fuck ups...uh I’m sorry about swearing uh...”

Alice laughed but not at Dig and said: “No Deacon, I think sometimes that is the right word. I understand what you mean. My father gives me so much grief about Nick I’d almost prefer spending my life as a spinster. He doesn’t understand me.”

“Parents just don’t understand, Will Smith was right.”

“Who?”

“Oh, just a friend.”

Although they took their time, it was a short ride back to the McCarty’s ranch. The sky was wide and blue all the way to the mountain where the silver laid. The air was still as the sun shone down on them casting the blackest of shadows. In the distance Dig could see Billy kneeling on the ground hammering a short peg into the ground.

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To the left was a short barrel made of metal which had been cut in half lengthwise. It laid on its side above a fire, wisps of grayish smoke rose from it into the blue sky and disappeared like a dream. Billy was hammering another peg in when Dig and Alice dismounted.

“You putting up a tent, sheriff?” asked Dig.

“Horseshoes.” he said dusting off his hands.

“Huh?” Dig said.

Billy smiled and held up a pair of rusty horse shoes.

“Oh, wow I haven’t played that in forever. When I was a kid I was the best at the trailer park.”

“Trailer park? That’s an odd name for a town.” said Alice

“Well Pennsylvania can be odd, but in a good way.” Dig said thinking of the town called Intercourse and smiled.

“I wouldn’t want to be from any place else, Alice.”

“Well lets see if you can beat a Knickerbocker.”

The game started at first between Alice and Dig, before long neighbors and friends came over taking turns playing. Most stopped by some for a short visit a few others had brought dishes of food to go along with the meats Billy had prepared and were welcomed to join in on the feast.

Dig had planned on leaving after the food had been served. He tried to sneak off without being noticed, however Alice caught sight of him.

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“You’re not leaving without letting me try to even the score are you, Dana?”

“Well the father would probably prefer I go searching for artifacts as soon as possible. It’s not on any current maps and I’m not familiar with...”

“Nonsense. It's Sunday correct?”

“Um, yeah.”

“It is the day of rest for Catholics, and besides I don’t think the Sheriff or one of his deputies would mind showing you the way tomorrow.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother the sheriff.”

“Fiddle faddle. Billy.” Alice called out over her shoulder.

Billy wandered over chewing on a tooth pick and still grinning over his game winning ringer from before lunch.

“You leaving, Deacon?”

“Billy would you mind showing Dana the way to White Feather’s land tomorrow morning?”

“Well Monday mornings are crazy for me, Alice. But if I can’t, Deacon, Frank or George can when they go out on their rounds. It’s not a long ride.”

“There, Dana. Now, will you let a lady even a score?”

“I guess it’s time for more horse shoes.” Billy said with a laugh.

“I was thinking of something more exciting.” Alice said.

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A half an hour later on the edge of Billy’s ranch was a total of a six emptied tin cans set up in a row along the fence. Dig, Alice, The McCarty’s and a few guests had gathered to watch the impromptu shooting match.

“Most cans knocked down in one turn wins.” Billy said.

“Ladies first.” Dig said.

“No, no. You are in the lead, Dana so you first.” Alice said.

Dig stood at the line drawn by Billy and aimed his revolver at the line of rusty unlabeled cans.

The first shot was a loud crack that hit the fence but nothing else, which shook noticeably. He took two more shots and manged to knock one over. He took his time aiming and hit one more before he ran out of shells.

There was a few applause, which turned too laughter when Dig said aloud: ‘And that’s how you scare away termites from your fence, Alice.’

She laughed as Billy set up the two cans he knocked down. When the line was cleared she quickly and smoothly fired six rounds in just a few seconds and knocked two cans with one shot thanks to the last can ricocheting off another. A long whistle from Dig and burst of applause rang out from the others.

“Are we even, Dana?” Alice asked holding her revolver straight up as a curl of gun smoke blew away.

“Oh I think you’re ahead now,” Dig said smiling while scratching his head at her brilliant shooting. “how’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“Don’t you know who my father is, Dana?”

After the sun had set, everyone else had gone home. Billy and his wife had gone inside for the evening leaving Dig and Alice alone as they chatted while sitting on the porch enjoying the black sky stained by an eye pleasing cluster of stars.

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“I think you enjoyed showing me up, Alice. Were you worried I would be a sore loser?” Dig asked.

“I just wanted to know if you can handle being beaten by a women.” she said with a sense of pride.

She carried a purse that matched the color of her dress, she opened it a took out a cigarette and lit it with a tiny silver lighter. She offered Dig one but he refused.

“You know those things are bad for you.” Dig said.

“Unladylike do you mean?” she said taking a drag then blowing out a white stream of smoke with eyes closed, perhaps in irritation.

“Not at all, I mean I’ve read that smoke can hurt your lungs. Regardless if you’re a lady, Alice.”

She looked at him, and whatever irritation she showed on her face was now gone. They sat next to each other on the top step, Dig had placed his duster over Alice’s shoulders as the temperature slowly dipped. It was a pleasant evening, in the distance Dig could see the lights in town were still on despite it being a Sunday night.

“We’re all created equal. Right?”

“Not if you’re a woman.” Alice said with a deep and heavy sigh and tossed her cigarette butt in a brass pot, a spittoon was what AM called it, that sat next to the porch steps.

“It will change one day.”

“Do you really believe that, Dana?”

“Yeah.”

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“You sound so sure of yourself.” she said looking at him closely with a smile. “Sometimes I think it will take nothing short of a miracle to bring change. Tell a man a women deserves a voice and he will swing out the Bible like it were his dick and quote you some obscure verse about Lot’s wife.”

“His dick?” Dig said laughing.

Alice tried to contain herself, but began shaking with laughter as well. Alice leaned on Dig as she laughed, and Dig felt a surge of doubt and guilt fill him at once. Dig pulled away from her but gently as if still in a laughing fit.

“I apologize,” Alice said quickly. “for my language, Dana.”

“That’s OK, Alice. Guys are dicks.”

She looked at him again, closely and warmly.

“I don’t believe you are.” she said looking into his eyes.

“I try not to be. How about you?”

“I believe, bitch would be the term my step mother would use. Though I always gave her a hard time for whatever reason suited my fancy.”

“Did she ever call you that?”

“No. I’m being unfair to her. When I was still a little girl I resented her because I believed she was trying to steal father away from me. She wasn’t of course, I just wanted to have his attention all the time like most little girls. I was a bitch to my step mother out of spite, I guess I was being immature.

“It’s not immature to want your parents love.” Dig said thinking of his own relationship with his mother. “And I don’t think you’re a bitch either, Alice.”

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“Maybe not, but I am becoming quite the hedonist. Thank you for saying that, Dana.” she said with a sparkle in her eyes that were so blue they looked like mirrors of the ocean.

“What about your real mother, do you get along with her?”

“She died a few days after I was born, so I never got the privilege to find out. Would you like to see a picture of her?”

“Sure.”

She opened her tiny purse removed a sepia toned portrait of a young woman folded in half.

“She was seventeen in this picture, that was how old she was when see met my father. I would give up anything to just speak with her for a short while. Privilege has its advantages, but sometimes I just want my mother again.”

“I’m sorry you never got the chance to know her, Alice. When my father died, I was twelve so I knew him some. But I’d give anything just to hear his laugh again.”

“How did he die?”

“He was drunk and had an accident.”

“I’m sorry, Dana.”

Dig smiled as he looked into her eyes, feeling at odds with himself, he shouldn’t be sharing things about his life. Guilt turning over to hope then becoming something like despair worked away at his heart, mind and soul.

“It’s a part of life, losing the ones you love, the heart heals when it can, not when it wants too.

It’s something we all learn from.” Dig said still looking into her eyes.

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“And what did you learn from it?” she asked looking back into his eyes.

“To be a better person, a stronger person. And to hope love doesn’t always end in heart break.”

“I hope not.”

She smiled at him and he smiled back. He felt a tickle in his stomach and a flutter in his heart as she leaned over towards him, perhaps to kiss him or to whisper a secret into his ear, but something caught both their eyes before anything more could happen.

“My goodness. It seems my tail has finally caught up. I have been avoiding him since I arrived in town. Welcome to Fort Sumner, Agent Whatley.”

The man was of average height and build with a neatly trimmed Van Dyke of reddish gold whiskers, he wore a gold star on his black clothing and an ivory colored hat. He looked either exhausted or exasperated, maybe both.

“Ms. Roosevelt...”

“Special Agent Whatley this is my friend Deacon Dana Scully of Pennsylvania.”

“Uh, please to make your acquaintance, Deacon.”

“One perk I never enjoyed as First Daughter are these mandatory chauffeurs that follow me everywhere. Isn’t that right Agent Whatley.”

“Ms Roosevelt, firstly I do not follow you everywhere, secondly it’s my job to protect you...”

“At the expense of the tax payer mind you. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.

Wouldn’t you agree, Dana?” she asked Dig while getting up from the porch.

“Yeah, but the guys just doing his job. Don’t be too hard on him.” Dig said standing up as well.

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“I should have known you would side against me, again.” she said with the same look she gave him when at dinner the previous night. “Well Agent Whatley, you can thank the Catholic Church that I don’t set a tack on your saddle tomorrow for interrupting our conversation.”

“That’s OK, Alice. I do gotta get up early tomorrow.” he said taking her arm and walking her to her horse.

“Just remember, I’m ahead. Perhaps we can try to even the score soon.” she said handing him back his coat.

“Maybe.”

Despite her wearing a dress, she deftly straddled her steed and was quickly riding into darkness.

“Aw shit...” said Agent Whatley who had to gig his own mount and race after her.

Dig stood for a moment in the silence of the night. He had a flood of emotions going through him again. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. Alice appeared to be feeling some kind of way for him, he wondered if he wasn’t starting to feel some way for her as well.

When it came to Cammie, Dig knew he would always feel for her in some way. Most times an ex can stick with you somewhere inside your mind, whether good or bad. Marisa was dead, and he blamed himself for it, and the heart ache was still fresh and deep.

He had to ignore Alice for the obvious reasons, though she was an absolutely beautiful woman that every man in America wanted back during the dawn of the Twentieth Century. She could have almost anything and any man she wanted, and she wanted him it seemed. A nice boost for the ego but that short flame of passion would be quickly doused by the thought of Marisa.

“Just forget them both.” he said to himself with a nod.

He would focus on the task at hand, it would be easier this time than in 1993. AM would be back soon and they would be searching multiple locations. That rain check to Dig from Alice to even

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the score would probably never get cashed. Some where far off a howl deep and ferocious echoed from the black desert, bringing Dig out of his thoughts.

“I hope that’s how they always sound.” Dig said walking back up the porch steps and back inside.

Dig had awoken just before dawn the next day after having a bad dream. It had felt brief yet seemed to last an eternity. He was in darkness, and although he himself could breath, he had the sensation he was choking. Dig could almost feel heat racing down his throat before he awoke shivering despite the heat.

He ran every version of the MST3K theme song in his head to try an erase the horrible taste the dream had left on his brain. If he even thought of her face, his stomach would twist angrily. He laid back down for a while before Isabella knocked on his bedroom door to announce breakfast.

She had made porridge again, which suited Dig fine. Although this was the desert, the mornings here since they arrived had been chilly. Billy came from his bedroom dressed with his gun belt tied to his waist.

“I’m sorry I can’t escort you today, Deacon. Frank’ll be here in a short bit to take you out, I have to relieve George. He’s been on for the last twelve hours.”

“Wow, you guys really are short handed.” Dig said

“Will you be here tonight for dinner?” asked Billy.

“Yeah, unless I’m overstaying my welcome.”

“Oh no, Deacon, not at all. I just wanted to talk about something with you tonight if you’ll be around. Not a big deal, I got to run.”

“Stay safe, sheriff.”

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“Te amo, angel!” he called out to his wife, who promptly came out of the kitchen.

“Usted no esta comiendo desayuno? Not even a kiss?” she said with hands on her hips.

Billy stood up straight and removed his hat and gave his wife a kiss. Dig went to the kitchen to help himself to breakfast and to give them some privacy.

“I’m sorry, angel.” Billy said stroking her soft brown cheek with his well worn white hand.

“Just come home to me, and I will take any other bad thing in life.”

“I’ll see you tonight, OK.”

Dig felt the sadness burn him deeply hearing that. One of the last things Marisa told him was to be careful. Perhaps you should have told her that, he though angrily to himself. Frank arrived not long after Billy left and helped himself to some porridge.

“You got everything you need in yer sack there, digging tools and stuff?” Frank asked.

“Oh, yeah. I got my tools and more.”

He had his Qpad as well as the hearing aid adapted with the Sir Doyle app to locate the signal, if possible. He had his revolver and every shell for it he had purchased. They set out as the sun rose over the dusty hard pan of earth that was littered with the random brown and green scrub brush.

“You got plenty of water?” asked Frank.

“Oh yeah. No worries, Deputy.”

They traveled along the river. Dig thought it was monstrous compared to the Schuylkill River back home.

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“Why can’t Dolan lay pipe here and get water from the river?.”

“The reason is the state of Texas.”

“Texas?” Dig asked confused.

“Yeah, ya see this here river goes down into Texas and dumps off in the Rio Grande. If anybody laid pipe or built a dam it’ll cut into the amount a water they can get. Their governor and ours have been in dispute about for the last few years. Ain’t nobody wants to mess with Texas.”

“So the water under the silver mine is really a big deal.”

“Oh yeah, Billy knows and so do a lot of people that Dolan is a silent partner with NM Springs, that son of a bitch is up to his old tricks. He’ll screw up an when he does, Billy’ll be there to put the cuffs on’em. And he’ll get the justice our friends deserved but never got.

“Yes, sir, Deacon, that’s why I still ride with Billy. Even though I got a wife an a bunch a kiddies at home, I still gotta ride ya know what I’m saying. He knows the difference between the two, law and justice, I mean, and that means a lot way out here.

“ I’ve seen them dime books the stores around here that came from the East Coast. They exaggerate some of the stories but the blood and guts is damn near exact. Hell you saw George missing his finger, that was from years ago goin up against Buckshot Roberts, who killed a good friend of ours.”

Frank shook his head, with eyes that were glossy. He swallowed hard and continued.

“A lot of our friends died, a man can get dirty real easy in all that muck and blood. Billy, he’d fight for justice, he knows what it’s like to get screwed over most of all. The Feds left him out to dry and the territorial governor’s for decades acted like Billy was nothing but a cattle rustler out for blood. But he stayed clean even when he was knee deep in blood and guts in Old Mexico.

Billy is a great man.”

“Bad times bring out the greatness in people.”

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“Is that in the Bible, Deacon?”

“If it’s not, it should be.”

On their right side they passed the silver mine which was a few miles off. Dig could see men working and a large mine cart rolling inside the dark cavernous pit. An engine or some kind of machine buzzed loudly, but was just out of sight, though they could see puffs of black smoke coming from somewhere.

They passed on and entered the dry wilderness. The sun rose as the scrub brushes shrunk in size and number, a hawk or vulture circled high above them. Dig could see the smoky waves of a mirage and blue sky but nothing beyond that.

“This is as far as I can take you. There’s not much there to see so I can’t say exactly where Halley’s tribe used to live. Just be careful you don’t get lost or bit by a rattler or some critter.

“Thanks, Deputy.”

“You got the map Billy gave you right? And a compass? You get too deep in the desert you’ll get lost easy.”

Dig wasn’t worried about getting lost, he was anxious to search and was more worried about the mutated coyotes that could be wandering around. He had his six shooter loaded and ready.

“I’ll be fine, Deputy. I appreciate the escort.”

Frank looked out into the vast desert that laid beyond them, there were plenty of rocks and canyons for a wild coyote to hunker down and wait for its dinner. Frank leaned over and untied the top of a long and narrow leather satchel and removed the firearm inside.

“Here, this is a...”

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“A twelve gauge, I used one once hunting back home with my old man. Never got anything though.”

“So you know how it works, good. I’ll loan it to you. It’ll knock a bull over at close range and it’ll hurt a sick coyote more than your revolver will. Most animals run scared when they get hit with a scatter gun. If you see somethin come for you just keep your shoulder square and your feet flat. The shells should take care of the rest. I’ll tie it to your saddle here for ya.”

He tied it quickly and snugly.

“Just pull the shotgun when you need it, you’ll have to knot it up again though. ”

“Thanks again, Deputy. Be careful heading back.”

Frank nodded and turned back the way they had come. Dig rode a few feet forward making sure he was out of direct sight from the ever receding figure of the deputy. When Dig felt safe from prying eyes he removed his Qpad and tapped the screen.

The first sound was a sharp feedback like sound that was mildly irritating. On the screen were four to six circles of green expanding and retracting in size while they moved about on screen.

They moved at varying speeds and directions, one such circle was not too far from where he stood now.

He would have to be careful of the coyotes, if they were the moving circles. He would be heading into the mouth of danger. It had to be done though, he reasoned, eventually they were going to come out here regardless of what was lurking.

So Dig gigged his horse toward to the closest circle as the sun rose slowly over the Territory of New Mexico. The ground looked flat and even for a considerable distance, soon after he began his lone trek though he found himself unexpectedly in a canyon. It was just a cluster of rocks he thought, but the mirage had made them look smaller than they were.

He took a deep breath at the huge rocks with deep dark colors somewhere between red-orange and brown. The rocks at first had been mostly ankle deep, but their size and stature grew with

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each passing step. He passed a large boulder that was a sandy brown and looked smooth to the touch as found himself inside a canyon.

He walked back passing the smooth looking boulder and found a jagged wall to climb up high enough to look over the canyon he had entered. He took out his QPad and began scanning the map of the area.

“Friggin zoom!” he said in a whisper.

He drug his finger across and zoomed in on the canyon and found a walking path that would lead him to the other side. It might take him all day to go around the canyon which was too big for Dig to zoom out and see in its entirety.

Dig marked the spot he wanted to go and followed the yellow line on the screen and went back down into the canyon. He had been scared of getting lost, he felt his heart beating in his throat when he heard the screech of a hawk in the air. The odd colors of the canyon rock wall however had made him forget his fear.

Dig looked at the rocks and sandwich layers of bright colorful crag. In his home of Pennsylvania, the color of bedrock was a drab gray or an off brown color most commonly. Here though they ranged from golden yellows to electric oranges and deep crimson. The colors were sandwiched so evenly Dig took a moment to trace the color separation on the wall with his finger.

“Wow.” was all he could think to say.

The sun was noon high when he found the way out. The static had been low for the most part but had redoubled once he reached the end of the path. Dig ignored it for the moment as he and his steed looked at the canyon that was now below him again.

It was wide and looked easy to navigate. However he had been told about the tricks the desert can play on the eyes. You’ll get lost easy was Franks exact words.

He would be careful regardless, he had to figure out what those circles were. He took out the Qpad again and scanned the screen. At first glance one circle was alarmingly close to his

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position, then it jumped back to twice the distance and didn’t move. Dig got off his horse and walked towards the edge looking around.

Everything was empty and devoid of life nearby with only the occasional brush or cacti. He looked down on the screen again, the circle looked to be moving slowly towards him again, then was gone entirely as well as the other circles, however the static had remained and was still frequent. Other than the static all was quiet.

A short wind had picked up and Dig’s horse, which he had named Yoo-Hoo because of its chocolate colored mane, began to whine and shake her head nervously.

“Shh, easy girl, easy.” Dig said gently taking the reins.

“Are you hungry? Here, I was saving it for lunch but you earned it today.”

Dig took a large red apple from his saddle bag. Mrs McCarty had offered it to him as a lunch should he be gone very long.

“They come very often thanks to the trains, please.” she said when Dig tried to refuse.

Yoo-Hoo found the apple and ate it up and appeared to relax. Dig chuckled at the loud sounds of the horse chewing.

“Better?” he asked the animal gently stroking its head.

He took a step towards the edge of a short cliff and took in the view. It was a bright and sunny, and getting hotter with every passing minute. He had still half a canteen yet but most of the day had been burned away in the canyon. Dig turned away from the cliff when the ground beneath his feet crumbled.

Because he had been in mid turn he cart wheeled backwards down the short rocky embankment a sizable rock dislodged from his fall followed him down and bounced off his fore head. He fell on his side facing a rock wall, his ears were ringing loudly and his right eye was stinging from sweat and blood.

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Dig sat up touching his head lightly with his fingers tentatively and grimaced when the tips came away bloody. He blinked a few times before getting up slowly and methodically. Nothing appeared to be broken besides the skin on his head, though not badly.

Dig looked up at the cliff he tumbled down, it was a little over six feet by his guess. The dirt was too clay like for him to climb up, also his Qpad was still with the horse. It wouldn’t be quite so easy to reroute his way back to the top. He was quiet for a moment when he heard Yoo-Hoo whine.

“Here girl!” Dig clicked and whistled and waited.

He called her again and waited. He was looking up at the edge of the cliff when he saw her nose slowly appear over the edge. His plan was to hold the reins and use his legs to climb while Yoo-Hoo pulled.

“That a girl! Come here!”

The horses snout lowered to the ground slowly. The loop of the leather rein dangled on the edge as Yoo-Hoo stopped moving forward. Dig stretched his arm higher.

“Just a little closer, come on girl, please.”

Her muzzle lowered even further his middle finger touched the rein for the briefest of moments before the horse shrieked and was gone from sight. Dig fell back in a panic and landed on his back.

His heart began to wham in his ears when he heard a monstrous throaty growl. He quickly rose to his feet and removed his revolver and double checked to make sure it was loaded. The day was bright, but not to bright for Dig to notice the few trickles of blood dripping down the cliff that he had fallen from twice now.

He held the Colt in his hand scared but steady, he had six shells plus six more to spare. He listened closely and at first heard nothing but the blood flowing through his ears, sounding like

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the ocean was in his head. He listened closely and he heard it eating, a wet snapping sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking.

The (is it a monster, now?) animal was feeding. It found a meal and had perhaps not noticed him.

He could just leave and...

“No dick head, the Qpad.” He said scolding himself and squeezing a hand around his pistols wooden grip tighter.

He had to retrieve his back pack or his Qpad at the very least, and without water he would be dead in a few hours. He took a deep breath and began his trek back to the top. It was just twenty minutes of back tracking before he found the path again.

Before he ventured further he listened for the coyote. He was heading towards a large multi colored rock listening for the beast. Dig hoped the creature would eat quickly and leave by the time he got back up but as he crouched behind the giant rock he could hear the continuing feast.

He leaned out from behind the rocks and saw it.

The creatures back hind quarters were facing him. Its tail was bushy and gray and looked musty as it swung at the flies buzzing it’s shit encrusted fur on its upper back legs. Its head was out of Dig’s view.

“Shit.” Dig said in a whisper.

He looked up at the bright yellow sun as sweat began to roll down his upper body soaking his shirt. How long had it been already since his last drink? Half an hour, one at the very most.

“Who the fuck knows?” he asked himself squeezing his sweaty hands into even sweatier fists.

It was too hot for him remember, he realized as he watched sweat drip from between the fingers of his balled up fist. OK, he had read that humans can survive sometimes three days without food and water. But that was under normal circumstances. Out here in the desert was not normal circumstances.

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He couldn’t wait out the creature, not for very long. There was the chance some one might come by, but judging by the trail he had taken no one came through here very often. Dig turned away from the coyote and sat behind the rock thinking but no other options presented themselves to him.

Dig looked to the other side of the canyon wondering if he would live. Alarm grabbed at Dig’s heart when he thought he saw a tall figure in the distance. He looked closely and squinted his eyes, the air wavered like water Dig kept his head still as he looked.

It looked to be a tall man, but it was dark and so narrow looking that he wondered if he wasn’t staring at a tall cacti. Dig felt his heart sink a little at the thought but kept looking, through the watery air.

Dig lost sight of it for only the briefest of seconds but found it again. The air made it look even more distorted than it had a moment ago. Slowly as the temperature rose with the sun, the air wavered more and the dark figure, or cacti, looked to be shrinking in height. Dig watched as it slowly disappeared into the mirage from where he assumed it came from.

Dig rubbed at his forehead causing more blood to flow from his wound and sting his eye, he wiped at it absent minded. He held up his Colt again and stood up, he didn’t wait he just stepped out from behind the large rock unmindful if the beast...no, monster...was still feeding.

Dig sighed internally when he saw it was. One relief was his pack, it was closer to him than it was to the monster. Dig had a moment of giddiness when he though of how similar this was to Bilbo in ‘The Hobbit’ when he encounters Smaug. Though Dig doubted this monster would start talking to him about riches and barrel riding.

And as if on cue, much to Dig’s horror. The monster picked its bloody snout from its meal and began to sniff the air. Dig closed his eyes tight and opened them again as he cocked his revolver.

Its head turned quickly at the sound.

Goosebumps the size of quarters formed on his body as its glowing intelligent green eyes regarded him. Dig took aim and a deep breath before firing. He had aimed for its head and expected the animal to ignore the shot and charge.

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So it was a deep surprise when the bullet manged to take out one of it eyes in a alarming gush of green and yellow liquid that squirted out like a over sized pimple being squeezed. The monster hollowed in great pain and it began to shake its head in what looked like an angry tantrum.

Dig ran the few feet between him and his pack, grabbed it and for a third time that day fell back into the canyon. He landed on his feet though and ran quickly as another howl echoed, this one filled with more rage than pain. He ran for only a few seconds before stopping and hiding among the forest of stacked rocks and gargantuan boulders.

Dig silenced his racing mind trying to hear if the monster was approaching. He didn’t hear anything and swallowed before he looked out from his hiding spot. The dry click in his throat sounded loud, as did the beating of his heart which had taken residence in Digs stomach. He looked but he saw nothing in either direction.

He was safe for now it seemed though his stomach was being gripped by waves of nausea and fear. He wanted to vomit, but kept his stomach down after five minutes of controlled breathing.

He leaned back against the wall as he wiped more blood from his brow.

Dig looked to the wall behind him and began to search its surface. It was only a few inches higher than him, and there looked to be enough strong jags for him to climb up and see where he was and where the beast was maybe.

The sun beat down unmercifully upon him as he removed his hat and armed the blood and sweat on his head, grateful he didn’t lose his Stetson. Dig found some solid footing and pulled himself up on a tiny flat slanted rock shelf. In the direction of Fort Sumner it was desolate, he turned around and looked in the opposite direction.

It was the same, he saw another tall cactus that looked closer than the other. He had read that you could harvest water from cactus though he couldn’t recall how. With the Qpad’s plethora of E

books it wouldn’t take long to find out how.

Dig looked at the cactus and felt his heart drop when it looked like it had bent down stood up and bent down again.

“The frig...” he said through dry chapped lips.

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He waited for the dark cactus to appear again but it did not.

“Someone’s watching...”

His heart skipped a beat, it was Halley. Perhaps he was keeping watch, letting this monster do the dirty work. Dig looked on but the dark figure still didn’t rise, he didn’t bother looking in any other direction. He was sure he would never leave this canyon again.

“Maybe as coyote shit.”

He replaced the shell he discharged and removed his duster with the remaining shells to the ground. He figured if six shots weren’t enough to fell the beast he wouldn’t live long enough to reload. He took his knife and cut off both sleeves of his shirt.

He used one to wipe the blood from his face, which had turned his hands pink. The color made him think of Marisa’s hair, the realization that it was blood on his hands made him scowl.

He went in his pack and wrapped his Qpad in one of his shirts and shoved it between other clothes and a marble colored composition book which AM had said was a common note book for all of the Twentieth Century.

Dig looked at it as he closed the pack, then fanned it out. A stub of a pencil fell to the ground. He wrote a note stating that the contents of this pack belonged to Father Fox Mulder in Fort Sumner and must be returned immediately. He didn’t know what else to write, and quickly underlined the word Father twice.

He hoped if AM didn’t find it first, some one might think twice about stealing a ‘priests’ things.

It was all he could think to do as he didn’t believe he was going to be around much longer. With his remaining sleeve he tied his knife fast to his hand, he figured if he was going down he wanted to go down fighting. This is so stupid, his mind cried.

“Guys, it doesn’t get any stupider than this.” he said in a voice cracking from dehydration.

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He felt his heart beating behind his eyes with white thunderous bangs. The air was hot and gravelly in his lungs, the thirst made it hard to breath. He thought of her face and stepped out into the open.

There was nothing in either direction. He took a deep breath and went back in the direction he came. He had to step around the garden of rocks that wanted to snap his ankles if he wasn’t careful.

He kept an eye ahead and felt his fear ebb for the first time after a few yards, until he looked up and saw a few hunks of dirt and rock crumble under a large abnormal paw of the thing standing above him. In place of its one bright eye was a red and raw looking growth that had a faint yellow tint. Tears of green phlegm dripped from its hideous cavern.

Dig took a breath and aimed. He fired a shot and the brute on four legs ran the length of the wall above him growling in great fury. Dig was hesitant but fired again, neither shot appeared to hit though. He watched it run and leap down to the ground on his level.

This is it! His mind hollered as he cocked the revolver, but the coyote leapt right back up and ran back across the same path it had before. Dig squeezed the trigger but missed again.

“Fuck.”

Was it waiting him out? He was afraid to take his eyes off the beast to check how many shots he had left.

“Was it three...four.” he crackled, it was painful to speak so he stopped.

His headache continued to pound away at him, each crack of the Colt pistol was another beat of the drum in his head, his vision would go white momentarily with each crack of the revolver. His head wound began to bleed again stinging his eyes as he watched the beast. It stopped moving and stood still watching him, the sound of its snarling and growling was growing louder.

When his eyes were some what clear Dig raised his fire arm again and pulled the trigger. A dull thud was all the sound there was though. Dig cocked it again, thud. Again, thud.

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It was something you never see in western movies or don’t usually hear about unless you read enough books about guns and the old west. His Colt got dirty, and the man who had sold it to him said he should think about gun oil but Dig had waved it off. His head pounded harder as he dropped the pistol and raised his hand that was tied to his knife.

“I love you, Marisa.” he said in an inaudible whisper.

The beast leapt down again and crouched, Dig steadied his hand. The creatures tail was still and stiff and only twitched the slightest bit. He faced the one eyed mutant and forgot his pain for a moment. Let’s dance, mother fucker he thought to himself as it began to charge him.

Although his voice was little more than a croak, his cry of hikeeba was loud enough that AM felt it back home. The mutant charged as Dig moved slightly to the left saving his strength at the very last moment and swung his knife much like he had the night of the line drive.

The Gods had favored him again it seemed. The knife cut deeply into the animals mouth and half way across its left side. If the knife hadn’t been tied to him the beast would have knocked it out of his sweaty hand.

The wind of it speeding by had been enough though to knock him down. His head had hit the ground so hard that Dig saw only white as the world biggest bell had begun to ring in his head.

His body felt like a house of cards that just had its bottom row knocked down by a wayward hand. He tried to rise again but his head felt like it was in two.

He felt his heart beat through out his body, it was a drum being beat by an angry giant. He didn’t try to listen for the approach of the monster. He ignored the pain and imagined Marisa’s lovely face and hoped that if there was an afterlife, he might see her there. He laid still feeling calm for the first time, the fear had begun to melt away while he drifted into darkness.

Qcalc Coordinates 40.11414-74.98960

Philadelphia, PA 08_09_2011

Jason Balfour drove his blue Neon ten miles above the speed limit as he made for the exit off I-95 that would lead him to his workplace on the outskirts of Philadelphia. He aggressively weaved between a Penn DOT work truck and a Subaru hatchback being driven by some quiff looking down at her phone.

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Jay, as most people called him, leaned on his horn to get this bitch to move along so he didn’t hit her rear end getting into the exit lane. She quickly glared at him as he passed and he returned her glare with his middle finger.

He hated being on I-95 at all, but it was only six am, at this hour most of the city of Brotherly Love was still waking up. The city looked gray and drab, as thick clouds covered the dawning sky, it would probably rain most of the day. The Phillies played the Dodgers in the afternoon, maybe the game will get rained out.

“Fuckin suck this year anyway.” he grumbled to no one as he left the highway.

Besides he would be stuck at the Byberry all day, not that the job didn’t have a ton of down time.

He could have listened to the game the radio, but he didn’t enjoy listening to sports, he had to see it for himself. Not that he lacked imagination or brains.

“I’m a fuckin genius.” he said.

No, not a genius, but he was smart enough to work in the mental health field. He wasn’t a nurse or a PA, he had a two year degree from community college for computer design. He had gotten that just a few years ago, but this was the only job it had helped him to get.

And the funniest part was, he didn’t do anything here related to computers. He was a big guy, with a good set of muscles, the guy who interviewed him even asked him how much he benched.

“I dunno.” he said.

“The reason I ask is, well...” the man who wore an off the rack JC Penny suit leaned over and sighed. “we’re low on staff and I need a guy to help with the wards. Shit I have my daughter do all the data and book keeping crap when she’s home from school on weekends. No I need a big strong guy like you to help with the residents more than anything else though.”

“I don’t know anything about medicine.” Jay said though he needed the job.

The man interviewing him waved him off though.

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“Hey that’s fine, they don’t even have a doctor running this place cause it’s not necessary for this little outfit, but we got plenty of RN’s and PA’s to take up the slack. Besides the wards here non violent for the most part.”

The man with the cheap suit had been right on a few things. The reason no doctor was needed was because none wanted to run this place do to it’s infamous reputation. When he had been hired, there had been maybe fifty patients. That number had dwindled to less than a dozen patients, though every one called them wards.

There were a total of six buildings originally, but by the 1990‘s all but one building was abandoned. The horror stories of patient abuse still hung on the institution though that was back in the 70s.

Half of the staff were guys like him, hired for one position but were basically there to help keep order. The other half were nurses and student nurses and two EMT’s. There was only one Physicians Assistant while he had worked there but he had been transferred months ago.

Since that PA’s departure not a week would go by without Jay hearing about the closure of the Byberry. It would come, but when was a different question according to everyone. The work here sounded bad but the pay was good though sometimes you might be stepping in a pile of shit while moping the shower floor or playing bouncer for the occasional freak out from a ward.

And the wards were non violent, even during their freak outs. If you were careful and calm you could talk them down. Though they would get new wards on occasion, usually they were catatonic or stuck too deep in their own world to make a stink. The ones that were really skitzo got sent right to Norristown state hospital for a little shock therapy.

When it does close, the staff and wards would be transferred to some other hospital, most likely Norristown. He pulled into the parking lot which could have held a hundred of cars but now held six. There was a lot for visitors but the wards here never had visitors As a matter of fact some didn’t even have names,they currently housed four wards named John Doe. They had no identification and amazingly had no proof they even existed. It was as if some of them had just appeared out of nowhere, just bat shit crazy and nameless. He walked through a vestibule with a Pepsi machine that was rarely filled that sat next to a digital punch clock that lead to the main entrance.

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He punched his card and was buzzed in the door by an RN whom everyone referred to as Aunt Mary. She was large heavy set woman in her fifties, though she looked much older. She was a very blunt and very strong woman.

Jay had seen her once pick up a ward, who weighed twice as much as she did and did so with hardly any effort, when he wouldn’t stop spinning in a circle swinging a rec room chair over his head while screaming: TWEET TWEET MOTHER FUCKER, I CAN FLY!!! over and over. She picked him up and gave him a body slam that Andre The Giant would have been proud of.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hi, Aunt Mary. Choke slam anyone this morning?”

“Just my dumb ass kid.” she said with a smirk.

“Keep fighting the good fight.”

The door was Plexiglas covered on both sides by a rusty steel grate that would slam heavily behind him. The same steel grates covered all of the windows down the long corridor to the recreation room where the wards spent most of their free time. There was another door to the office he had been interviewed in, no one really used it except at night by staffers to maybe sneak a cigarette or a joint because of it’s having the only window that opened in the entire two floors of the building. He had to be buzzed into the rec room by a male nurse before he could enter.

The rec room was the largest room in the facility with a panoramic window facing the city that was also gated off. Next to the panorama window was a room where the meds were stored, it was blocked off by a half door half gate with a little opening with a tiny shelf for the nurse to slide out a cup of water and pills. Aunt Mary sometimes worked behind that door, Jay would laugh seeing such a big woman working behind that little door.

The rec room was connected to a long hall that was mostly bedrooms with out locks as well as a maintenance room. The lock didn’t work there either but it was chained shut with a padlock.

Across from the maintenance room was the bathroom which was a group shower with three sinks and three toilets without stall doors lined up on the far side. There was always someone walking the hall and checking the shower.

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Most of the wards were out of bed already and had received morning meds, before breakfast which was mostly welfare crap no self respecting person would ever eat. The cafeteria was on the second floor but that floor had been closed since 2007. Since then the wards ate their meals at the rec room table.

After breakfast most sat at a cheap plastic table on white plastic chairs, either staring at nothing or scribbling mindlessly with a plethora of Crayolas, that were mostly broken nubs, on brightly colored construction paper. It was routine for most, doing that and nothing else, ever.

Others wandered around ignoring the TV mounted high on the wall covered in a grate as well, showing cartoons with no sound. One ward, a big dude, stood away from everyone facing the big picture window. He had been brought in a few days ago, Jay had never seen him any where else since then.

The man didn’t move, his arms were at his sides looking impossibly straight, as they were today.

He would have looked statuesque if he hadn’t been wearing blue pajamas and cheap paper slippers. At times he might hold both hands behind his back as if in deep thought. A lot of the wards sometimes looked like they were in deep though.

Jay had conversed with plenty of the wards, some could even hold relatively normal conversations. He had never been attacked by any of them and the nurses that worked there always reminded everyone else that crazy didn’t always mean dangerous, but to always take caution.

It was still believed that some of them might be able to go back to a normal life. Hence why they were encouraged to interact with the wards. Jay didn’t believe any of these dudes would ever leave, but he didn’t mind talking to them.

So Jay approached the big dude, John Doe the 4th, was written on the back of his shirt in black marker. The only thing significant about Mr Doe the 4th, other than his hugeness, was a long scar on the left side of his face, it could have been a knife wound. The scar, which ran across his cheek and went up to his ear, looked old and was covered by a bushy graying beard.

He was standing next to the ward and he didn’t appear to notice Jay. His eyes were intent, looking beyond the skyline of Philly at something. The way the man stared was familiar to him.

Jay had a cousin who had a look similar to the big dude.

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His cousin had joined the Marines during the second Iraq war. They weren’t very close but they had hung around enough to call each other friends. He had been gone over two years, and he appeared the same when he came back. But sometimes he would get a look in his eyes, as if he was keeping an eye out for something.

“Thousand yard stare.” he said to himself.

Doe turned and looked at Jay closely. Studying him perhaps, the scarred side of his face twitched the slightest bit.

“You doin, OK?” he asked the ward.

The silence was thick and hung in the air like a cloud.

“Are you, Muslim?” Jay asked thinking maybe the beard was religious.

He continued to silently look at Jay for a moment, then he turned back to the window to continue his staring contest against the city. Jay walked away noticing the skin on the mans hands as he placed them behind his back again, the palm and his fingers looked to be covered in burns.

Caused by handling hot glass, maybe he was a crack head?

Druggie or not, the guy looked sharp, he was probably palming the sedatives and other pills every morning. The shit they gave these guys every morning would put Keith Richards down. It was a common thing for the wards to do, he was probably trading them to another ward for an extra pudding cup.

Some patients had a preference for Sharpies instead of Xanax or Oxycontin. Regardless Jay wouldn’t say anything unless the dude started going ape shit. The guy didn’t look like he had a drug habit or even a sweet tooth for that matter. He looked solidly built, other than the long scar across his face and the gnarled skin of his hands, he looked healthy for a guy who could have been seventy.

Jay shrugged his shoulders and continued with his day, which was a customary twelve hours for most of the summer. Though if and when he got transferred to a facility with a bigger staff he would no doubt lose the overtime though a regular eight hour shift would be nice.

107

It was late in the afternoon when the clouds that had been hovering over the city all day opened up in a torrent. Jay had to help a few of the nurses straighten up a room a ward had destroyed in a grip of terror when a clap of thunder echoed across the sky.

He walked back into the rec room, most of the wards had returned to their rooms. The big dude still stood in the same place, except during their meal times where he would sit away from the other wards and slowly pick and eat whatever the welfare office had to offer. Then bed at eight o’clock. The locks on most of the dorm rooms were beyond repair and not worth the tax dollars to fix doors for a soon to be closed state facility, so they could come and go to the rec room as they pleased, though they would be restrained to their bed and given a shot of Thorazine if they became unruly.

Some wards had an opposite reaction to sedatives and would be wide awake all night so there was always someone on guard in the rec room. Guarding the rec room over night was the longest but most peaceful time at the Byberry. Sometimes Jay would work the grave yard shift and would watch the wall mounted TV if his phone didn’t get a very good signal, which is usually didn’t out here in the boonies.

Jay was watching the big dude still when Stacy, another nurse, was buzzed into the rec room. She was a hot one, a petite Italian with the nicest set of tits Jay had ever seen, too bad she was married. Her ass looked tight enough to bounce a quarter ten feet.

“Jay, you wanna work a couple more hours? Jaime’s stuck on the highway.”

She must of known Jay thought she was attractive, she always appeared to puff up her chest to show off her lovely rack when asking him to stay longer. It worked, overtime aside, still he loved to be coy with her.

“I dunno. How long?” he said halfheartedly.

“Just until nine, please.” she said smiling with full red lips.

God, he would have loved to fuck her.

“OK, nine. then I’m Audi 5000.”

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“Thank you.” she said touching his arm gently and looking relieved.

God damn, he would loved to fuck her. The overtime and the bullshit flirting from his boss were the only good things about the job. He knew things could be worse but he wished they could be better too. He had disposable income, no wife or girlfriend to piss it all away on.

He was halfway through his twenties and found himself asking all the time, if this was all there was to life. He would probably never bang Stacy or get rich moping up crazy peoples shit. Or doing PC work, he was moderately good at hacking but where the fuck does that get you in life.

He was just another troll that would grief gamers playing online and be cruel to those anonymously for the sheer joy of the opportunity to do so. He didn’t think much of the idea of settling into a nine to five life marring some girl who would just get fat and annoy him like a good wife was supposed to do. He watched Stacy as her cheeks swished away but it was absent minded.

He sighed and turned back to look at John Doe number four, still looking out the window on the wet city. The storm didn’t seem to freak him out like it did almost every other ward. Maybe he was wrong about him palming his meds, but then Jay remembered the look in Doe number four’s eyes and wondered.

The next two hours had been as slow as Jay expected. For a brief time his phone had a decent enough signal for him to check his Facebook, and see a message from Jaime who was currently stuck on the highway.

waiting for AAA be there soon

He sat with his feet upon the rec room table, and tossed his phone on the table when the signal went out again. He sat watching cartoons on the wall mounted TV while rain pattered the windows softly.

Not far away Stacy sat behind the door to the medicine room doing inventory. She suddenly looked over to her vibrating phone and pressed the screen. She finished writing down a number on a clipboard before she read the text she received.

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“Jaime said he...”

“Yeah, he told me.” Jay said pushing his phone farther away with his foot. “Stacy, can I get the remote? I can’t take anymore of Looney Tunes on mute.”

“If they start getting riled up...” she said turning the light off and exiting the meds room with the remote in hand.

“Hey if they get riled up, Jaime can take care of it. Besides I don’t think big dude over there gives a shit what’s on TV.”

They both looked over at the man. He was silent and still since bedtime meds were handed out by Stacy a little while ago. Jay watched closely, and he was right about sneaking meds, not palming them exactly but hiding them under his tongue. He watched the big guy’s reflection in the dirty glass of the grated windows, he walked right up to his now customary spot at the window and spit the meds into a vent of the radiator that ran the length of the window right under his feet.

“Stacy, what’s that guys story?”

“First district dropped him off the other day, he attacked a cop.”

“He attacked a cop, and they still brought him here?” Jay asked surprised.

“Norristown is full right now and this guys not in the system. The police had their psychiatrist look at him, but I didn’t sign him in so I’m not sure what he’s been diagnosed.” she said handing Jay the remote.

“That’s great. What the fuck do I do if he gets all Lenny from Mice and Men?” he asked feeling a little freaked.

“Relax Jay. You’ll be fine, Aunt Mary is still here. You want to switch with her until Jaime gets here?” she asked sincerely.

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“No, I’m cool.” Jay said trying not to look or sound so scared in front of her.

“OK.” she said and left without another word.

He didn’t watch her swishing ass this time. He was looking again at the big dude, who was still facing the ever darkening sky. Well he’d be gone in a few days and another crazy mother fucker would take his place, or maybe not and they’d have one less bed to worry about.

It was then that John Doe the 4th moved. Jay watched as he walked towards the hallway and went into the showers. Another staff member stood at the entrance to make sure the ward used the bathroom and left. Jay ignored the big guy and deiced to just watch TV until Jaime came in.

It was easy to ignore the gate on the TV screen when you were really bored.

Jay flicked for minute or two before settling on TBS in hopes of catching maybe a Braves game but instead the movie ‘Back To The Future part 2' was in mid play. Jay laughed a little, he loved this movie growing up. He remembered seeing it as a kid and desperately writing Santa that Christmas for a hover board.

Jay kicked up his feet on the table as he turned up the volume and watched. He totally ignored the return of the big dude until the sound of his papered foot steps stopped suddenly behind him.