Doomsday Eve 9

Doomsday Eve 9

It was obvious that Cal did not think very highly of this

recommendation.

 

"He's my pal," Jake continued. "Let him join us. He'll make a good

hand. Besides, me and him were buddies. And there was a girl--" He

stopped speaking and broke into dark musing as the memory of his wife

came again into his mind.

 

"Were you with this woman?" Cal asked.

 

"He never was with this woman in his life!" Jake screamed. "She was

mine, I tell you. Mine!"

 

"Shut up, crazy head."

 

"Tell him, Kurt. Tell him Marcia was mine."

 

"Sure, Jake," Zen soothed. "Everybody knew you and Marcia were that

way. Cal and I were talking about another woman."

 

"Oh. That's different. But I don't want to hear either of you say that

Marcia didn't belong to me."

 

The wolf-faced man looked as if he was about to use his gun on Jake.

"You stinking nut head, you stay out of this!"

 

"All I was trying to do was to tell you Kurt was my pal."

 

"All right, you've told me. Now shut up." Cal turned to Zen again.

"About this woman, colonel? Were you together?"

 

"No," Zen said.

 

"But she yelled out to you when me and Ed grabbed her."

 

"I heard her."

 

"You did?" Cal's finger went around the trigger of the gun.

 

"Yeah. I was following her but I didn't know she knew it until she

yelled."

 

"Oh." Cal kept his finger on the trigger. "Why were you following her?"

 

"Hell, don't be stupid!" Zen exploded. "Why would any man follow a

woman like that?"

 

A trace of a grin went across the wolf face at this answer. Cal licked

his lips. This was an answer he understood. "I don't blame you for

that. But why was she coming up here?"

 

"That I don't know," Zen said. "I don't think it made much difference

anyhow. As soon as night came--" He squinted at the sun.

 

"Do you think she might be a spy for Cuso heading for his camp to

report?"

 

Zen felt his lower jaw sag. This was a thought that had not crossed

his mind. He knew only too well that the Asiatic had spies in as many

places as he could get them. Cuso's survival depended in a large degree

on knowing how many troops were moving against him, how they were armed

and over what passes they were coming.

 

"I see by your face that you had never thought of that," Cal said.

"Then what is she doing up here?"

 

"I don't know. I realized she was ahead of me about a mile back. As to

what she is doing, maybe she got tired of all that down there too, and

decided to come up here and live in the mountains?"

 

"A woman in this wilderness?"

 

"Some women have delusions that they can return to the primitive and

make a go of it."

 

"And maybe she had some other idea," Cal said.

 

Zen shrugged.

 

"Knowing this may be important to us," Cal said.

 

"Then we had better go ask her," Zen said. He was still shocked at the

thought that Nedra might be a spy. Up until now, he had thought he was

shockproof.

 

"You want to ask her?" Cal said.

 

"Sure."

 

"Okay, you do the asking. I'll listen. And don't get any funny ideas."

His finger curled around the trigger of the gun. "Remember, that if a

patrol should come looking for a deserter, they would only be going to

shoot him. I would be doing them a favor if I shot him in advance."

 

"I covered my tracks," Zen said. "Nobody will be looking for me."

 

"How did you do it?"

 

"I traded dog tags with a hunk of meat that had once been a GI. There

wasn't enough left of him to tell for sure what he was. The burial

detail will clip my tags from his body and another colonel will be

listed as killed in action. The GI will be listed as missing."

 

"That was smart," Cal said, approvingly. For the first time, Zen

thought he detected a note of admiration in the voice tones of the

ragged man.

 

Nedra was leaning against what had once been a work-bench in the

garage. Her helmet was off, her hair was ruffled, and her tunic had

been almost torn from her body. A look of pure gratitude appeared on

her face when Zen stepped through the doorway. A little cry of gladness

on her lips, she started toward him. Her eyes said she had never been

as happy to see anybody in her life as she was to see this tall, lean

colonel.

 

With her was the little bow-legged man. He didn't look happy as Zen

entered. "Stand still," he snarled at the girl. "Who the hell are you?"

 

At his words, Nedra let her body sag back against the bench.

 

"Ed, this is Kurt," Cal said. "He's joining us."

 

The look in Ed's eyes was pure venom. "He may join us but he won't last

long. This woman is mine. I saw her first."

 

Zen wished fervently that he had the carbine back in his possession.

Some vermin did not deserve to live. But Jake had that weapon. While he

could probably take the carbine away from Jake, the gun in Cal's hands

was very steady.

 

"She's not mine, you know," he said to Ed. "So far as I am concerned,

you are welcome to her."

 

"Oh, that's different," Ed said, relieved.

 

If Zen's words relieved Ed, they had the opposite effect on Nedra. She

opened her mouth to speak to him, then closed it in an apparent effort

to bite off words that no lady should use.

 

Cal laughed. "Ed is mighty touchy about his women. But don't let that

stop you. Ask her what she is doing up here?"

 

"None of your damned business, either of you," Nedra answered.

 

Zen shrugged and spread his hands in a gesture which said that he hoped

Cal would see how it was. Cal nodded. "We'll find out later." His

manner indicated there was no question in his mind that he would find

out what he wanted to know. "Right now it's time for chow. Jake, get on

the job."

 

Jake turned and walked across the street to another house. Cal bringing

up the rear, the others followed Jake. Ed took hold of Nedra's arm and

escorted her across the street. Seeing this, Kurt Zen again wished that

he had a gun.

 

 

 

 

VI

 

 

The meal was beef stew, which Jake prepared in a big pot on an old

wood-burning range. They all ate around the kitchen table.

 

"There are lots of wild cattle up here," Cal explained. "This used to

be good range country, you know. The remnants of the old beef herds are

still in existence, the ones that have learned how to dodge or whip the

lions, that is."

 

Zen was busy watching Nedra and Ed. The little bantam was following

every move she made and was keeping as close to her as possible. He

insisted on sitting next to her at the table and he kept trying to

touch her at every opportunity.

 

Zen kept silent. Inwardly, he was greatly perturbed. Night was already

throwing shadows over the mountains. What would happen after darkness

fell? Trying to keep such thoughts out of his mind, he found himself

wondering if it would be possible for him to break the bantam's neck

with his bare hands. He decided he could do this, and that he would

like to do it, but that he would also like to stay alive afterward.

 

"Girls who go walking in the mountains have to take what happens to

them," he said.

 

Nedra ignored him. Ed glowered at him. Cal chuckled but continued

eating without speaking. Jake ate as if he did not know what he was

doing or where he was. Occasionally he looked toward the northwest

and shook his fist in that direction. Zen knew that deep in his sick

mind Jake was dreaming of what he would do to the Asians. Remembering

Marcia, Zen did not blame him.

 

Ed tried to urge the nurse toward the dilapidated sofa in the room but

she eluded him and sat on an empty powder can, to the obvious disgust

of the bantam. Two people could not sit on the same powder can. Jake

rattled dishes in the kitchen, and fought imaginary Asians. Cal found

a seat in the corner, a position from which he could watch everyone in

the room. Off in the night an owl hooted.