Gunlaw

Gunlaw 35

Chapter 22 – Present Day

"And you think after forty years he'll still be there? Lying out in the Dry, dreaming of being a hero?" Sally's sneer gave her opinion. "The more sober you are the more of a fool you become, Hemar."

"Why didn't you wake him up?" Jenna leaned forward on her chaise-longue, intent, trying to understand it. "You could have gone anywhere."

Hemar shook his head. He'd told his story. It wasn't in him to say more. Could a human even understand what made him leave? Sally Hunska never had.

"They were pack." Mikeos stood and put a hand to Hemar's shoulder. It felt like the old Mikey.

"If they were pack then that's all the more reason to stay together, to take Eben out of there..." Jenna glanced from Hemar's face to Mikeos, back again, seeking an answer.

"He wanted Eben to be happy."

"Oh." Jenna sat back, a frown wrinkled across her hex-wound.

"And now you don't?" Sally threw her hands up.

Mikeos patted Hemar once more and turned away. "Getting what they want doesn't make men happy. Men don't know what they want. They might think they do. How old was Eben when they took him? Ten? Twelve? What had he seen of the world. And he's been forty years stuck in child's dream."

"You'll take us to him, Hemar?" Jenna stood to go, as if Hemar's answer was already decided.

"If a train will take us to Sweet Water, to Station Rock, then I know the way. I can take you." Hemar's head ached as if a rivet were driven ear to ear. He tried to imagine all those empty miles waiting for him. All those miles and no whiskey but what he could carry. "It's a hard path though. I don't think humans could make it between the towers."

"We'll make it." Mikeos gave a grim smile. "I'm tougher than you think."

"Of course we'll make it!" Jenna opened the office door, unconsciously clicking her fingers for them to follow – a gesture from the streets. "We'll take cantinas. If Hemar made it without water we can sure as hell do it if we restock at each tower. Didn't you ever think to empty out that whiskey and fill the flask with water, Hemar? It would have made things a lot easier."

Hemar blinked at the question and followed the hex-witch out onto the landing. It really never had occurred to him. All these years blaming George Ay for cursing him with his thirst, for snaring him with domen's ruin ... and maybe the corpser had just been trying to save his life after all? Mikeos came alongside him, raising his eyebrows.

"I ... I just didn't ..." Hemar tried to imagine pouring the whiskey away into the dust. Could he have done it even back then? Even before he'd had his first taste, would the aroma of it have let him just tip it out? "I was just a pup. We never carried water in the pack, never had containers..." Jenna was already at the bottom of the stairs, Mikeos half way down. He raised his voice. "It took me a whole blasted day to figure out how to unscrew the damn lid!" Down in the bar heads turned his way. Hemar let out the breath he'd saved for shouting, sighed, and trotted after them. It had been pretty stupid.

At the foot of the stairs Mikeos paused, as if he'd forgotten something. He turned and Hemar turned too. On the balcony Rema Sensa had emerged from the office to watch them go, presenting the face the Oh-Seven expected of her. Mikeos doffed the hat he had just returned to his head. "Mayor Sensa."

"Gunslinger."

"We'll be on our way now. Catching the next train to anywhere."