A few coals added their grey heat to the stifle of the cab. The windows and the open end let in a fitful
breeze that cooled the sweat covering his face, neck, and arms.
He held a leaf of kelp over the coals, waiting for the edges
to curl. The tip burnt too quickly, so
he broke it off and ate it, holding the rest of the leaf a little higher. Voices drifted from the station. He sighed and tossed the leaf into the coals,
watching it smolder before he hefted his 4 bore double barrel and stood.
His bowler went back on his head before he stepped to the
edge of the cab, and leaned against the thick metal of the coal bin.
The Constance gang lined the road, some in sight, most
already hidden. Didn’t take them
long. Old man Constance and a woman were
walking through the station. He took a
deep breath and reminded himself that these were good people.
“Mr. Constance?
Another shipment to the farms? I
have some foodstuffs I can pass along to the San Franciscans.”
Neither replied until they were a few feet away from the
locomotive. The old man squinted up at
him, “Still an elephant gun, eh?”
He grinned, “Biggest I could find.”
“Takes too bloody long to reload, Jackson. Damn foolish.”
“There’s only one of me on the train, Mr. Constance. And I’m a smallish man. Smallish men need bigger guns than the
biggish men.”
Noah sniffed, “I can get the food to town.”
“Any cargo for the farms?”
“Sheet metal, a box of bullets for Midway, batteries. Not much else, I’m afraid.”
Jackson leaned his rifle inside the cab and looked over a
clipboard. “Have it packed in Car
3. Lots of produce there. You can take as much as you can carry.”
“All Frisco?”
“Sunnydale’s full up.
Oakland’s already been, tried to take Frisco’s food, too. Said they’d drop it off on their way.”
“That’s a joke.”
Jackson nodded, “And not a very funny one. Which just leaves Mount Free, and they don’t
much like kelp.”
Noah gave a whistle and waved, turning back to the
station. A few men started grabbing
bundles off packhorses. “One more thing,
Jackson.”
“Yes, Mr. Constance?”
“My daughter will be going with you.”
He blinked, “Uh.
Where to?” He looked at the
woman, her eyes studying him behind her spectacles.
“The Salt.” She
replied, “Or as far west as the rail goes.”
“Well, that would be the Salt. But,” he called to Noah, who was already
walking away, “I don’t take passengers!”
“You’ve done it before.”
She raised an eyebrow, “This is no different..”
Jackson met her eyes, then glanced at Noah’s receding
form. Old man Constance was a dangerous
man to cross. He sighed. “You can stay in Car 3.”
She looked amused, “You want me to bunk with the cargo?”
“Come again?”
“I’ll be staying here in the front. I’ll be more useful than that cannon you tote
around.”
Jackson blinked at his rifle, “Ma’am, I am in charge here!”
She stepped lightly past him, striding into the cab. “A mite cramped. How far is it to the Salt?”
“About a month.”
She nodded then turned to him and held out her hand, “I’m
Dean Constance. I’ll be taking over
security for the Westbound Rail.” She
looked at him over the rim of her glasses.
Waiting.
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