Looks like forgiveness is one of this jackass’s greatest gifts, Steve wanted to jeer.
“Is that all I can owe this occasion to? An apology?”
“It is not. We are also here because our friend Eddy might be in trouble. I believe his leg is infected.”
“And I can make medication to heal him,” Steve said, looking apologetically at Nick for the interruption, “But I need more things, stuff you don’t have here."
The Preacher brought his fingertips together. "And you want to ask if you may have my blessing to go out, retrieve your items and be welcomed back inside?"
"Yes."
"I'm afraid I cannot grant you that blessing,” the Preacher exhaled. “It is far too dangerous."
Steve protested by way of throwing up his hands. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! What the fu-”
"But,” the Preacher snapped, stopping Steve before the suspected cuss word could inevitably soil the sanctity of the temple. “If your friend would like, I would be happy to offer my counsel in prayer, and if the Lord deems it, to heal him."
"Please, he’ll die without it!"
"Not if he is strong of faith, Nicolas. I'm sorry but the decision is for the good of New Jerusalem."
"But-"
“Now please, if there is nothing more I will bid you adieu,” he said, opening his arms to sweep them out of the church. “I do thank you for coming by. The doors are always open to God’s children. Please extend my invitation to Edward.”
After the door closed behind them, Steve turned to Nick. “Looks like our apology plan didn't work either. I don’t know about you, but I’m not waiting around for Eddy to get sick and die; not happening.”
“I agree, but we cannot be hasty. We have to think. For now, let’s get back to the girls. They will want to say goodbye to Kelly.”
1453 hours
Hands layered with dirt and sweat, Steve pat down the top of Kelly’s grave with a shovel. His navy-blue T-shirt hid the filth as he wiped his skin down before joining the others underneath the Willow tree.
“I suppose I’ll start,” Nick said, bowing his head. “Kelly, we knew you for only a few months, but it felt like years. You were a wonderful woman, and in the time you were with us, I watched you become strong and confident, loving and loyal, but mostly, you became one of us; part of our family. You will never be forgotten...”
Following the words, Nick hummed and chanted in his native tongue. The others were unable to understand the Sioux words, but they believed the prayer to be a beautiful and fitting goodbye.
Eddy proudly wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I sure as hell am gonna miss you, Kell. So sorry this happened to you.”
“I miss you, too, Kelly,” Jenny mumbled. She tried to say more, but grief overtook her.
“I’m sure the others would have wanted to be here, wanted to say goodbye,” Lisa said sniffling. She pulled Jenny in close, but the fourteen year old’s hand held tightly onto Steve’s.
Too embarrassed to show her eyes, Jenny squeezed Steve’s hand once to indicate his turn.
Steve gently squeezed back but did not speak immediately. He stared at the churned up earth. The sight reminded him of his mother’s grave, of all those buried at Camp, and lastly of Collin. Then his gaze shifted down at Jenny.
The others told me what happened, Kelly. What you did for Jenny…Thank you for saving her, he thought.
“Steve, would you like to say something?” asked Nick.
Steve cleared his throat and looked away from Jenny just as she wiped her face and looked upward at him. “We’ll miss you, Kelly. Rest in peace.”
Not a moment after, the church bell rang, indicating the encroaching night. Clouds hid most of the descending sun, and the last hours of its gracious light.
“I guess we’ll meet you guys back at the room?”
“That’ll be fine, Lisa. Oh, before you go, take this,” Nick said, handing over a small linen sack.
“What is it?”
“Shavings from the willow tree. I believe the wood carries some medicinal properties I can use on you, Eddy.”
Lisa nodded, and with Jenny by her side, the two girls helped Eddy limp back to the room.
Many of the townspeople were busy cleaning up, closing down, and finishing their chores, but shifty, judging eyes fell upon the newcomers and the less-than-formal funeral.
“I can’t believe these people,” Steve said, staring back at them. He did not notice his own hands tightening into fists. “Acting like nothing is wrong. Acting like Kelly wasn’t murdered. And so much for justice. The guy who killed her, he hasn’t even apologized, has he?”
Nick was on one knee gathering the wooden pieces for Kelly’s grave marker. “Mind helping me finish the cross?” he asked, hoping to dissipate Steve’s anger. “I don’t know if Kelly was Christian, but it seems right. Steve?”
“Fucking people. Call themselves religious, bunch of hypocrites if ya ask me,” he snorted, releasing his fists. He held onto the wood as Nick nailed the pieces together.
“There’s something else,” Nick said, view panning the town. In every direction, a pair or group were whispering, gossiping or spreading some sort of rumor.
He leaned his weight into the finished cross and jammed the wood into the earth until it stood strong. The name Kelly Hanks was written in black ink, but since no date of birth was known, only the day and year of her death were added.
“What is it, Nick? I can tell you’re thinking something.”
“Might be premature, but I think I have a plan to get out of here.”
“How?”
A man and woman strolled around the gravel path and into the vicinity.
“Not here,” Nick said, leaning down. He grabbed a pile of the dirt, mumbled something too quiet for Steve to discern, then let the dirt trickle through his fingers. “Goodbye, Kelly. May your spirit soar free.”
1533 hours
Nick pulled the saloon door outward, causing a bell to ring.
“Hey there!” Landon said, smiling. He pulled the lollipop from his mouth to speak better. “Come on in. It’s open seating. I’ll be with you guys in a sec.”
As Nick and Steve decided where to sit, the saloon’s sole patrons, an elderly couple in the far corner, eyed them curiously and contemptuously before resuming their conversation.
“I’m thinking there might be best,” Steve said, pointing to the bar seating.
“One minute. Just finishing up an order,” Landon said, humming a tune while cracking a pair of eggs into a bowl. He poured a small portion of cream in next, and then whisked the contents before pouring everything onto a cast iron skillet. With no natural gas lines, a wood fire was burning underneath a metal grill.
“Take your time.”
Without a cause, and unable to hide it from Nick, Steve’s entire body shivered. He grabbed his heart where the coldness appeared to affect him the most.
“You really should go back to the room.”
“Not happening,” Steve replied, rubbing his chest in a circular motion. "So this preacher really isn't going to let us out of here and back in even if it means saving Eddy’s life?"
"No, it does not appear that he will."
"Then I'll sneak out of here if I have to!"
The first words were audible for everyone, but Nick faux-coughed in time to cover up the illicit portion.
"Calm down, Steve. You cannot keep thinking so impulsively. I told you, I might have an idea. It does involve sneaking out, but you are in no state to make that trek, especially at night. It will be best if I go.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Steve, you just woke up. Your body is still recovering from hypothermia.”
Steve felt a warm wave of empowerment and snapped. "I said I'll be fine! Alex is my cousin! He would do the same! Alex-"
"Is fine,” Nick smiled. “I believe Alex got the vaccine. I can feel that he is okay.”
Steve frowned at the assertion. "Alright, Nick. So what's y
our plan?"
Nick pointed to the chef.
Landon let the eggs fry, then flipped them over-medium. He placed them on a pair of plates, next to some bread and brought them to the elderly couple. Upon his return to the grill, he held out a hand and said, "Hey, I'm LT, you were the one who was unconscious when I came."
Steve shook Landon’s greasy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
"What can I get for you guys?" he said, pointing to a chalkboard. The handwritten menu listed eggs, eggs and eggs. And bread.
"I'd love some bacon, eggs, hash browns, hot sauce, oh and if you've got a tortilla, throw it all in for a breakfast burrito."
"Oh, I'd love one too, Nick," Landon replied, mouthwatering. "Unfortunately, all we have are eggs and bread to snack on. Fortunately, we have a decent supply of butter, though. I'm sick of eggs, but lucky for us we have a ton of chickens and a cow we just slaughtered, so we haven't starved. So no food, Nick?"
"I'm fine. I’ll wait until we eat with the girls. Maybe some coffee if you have some?"
"I do and I can. Gotta warn you though, all we have is the instant stuff these days."
"That'll work."
Steve’s hand grabbed at the gurgle in his stomach. “I’ll take a couple eggs scrambled if you wouldn't mind. And a piece of toast."
“Consider it done.”
Steve poured a glass of water for himself and said, “So LT, what is this place?”
“I’m guessing you aren’t referring to my five-star restaurant?”
“Yes, I mean the town. You guys got a pretty good setup here.”
“Ya, NJ isn’t too bad. Steady supply of water and between our canned and packaged stuff and the livestock and our gardens, we’re pretty much self-sustaining. Everyone has a job, some people tend to the animals, teachers for the children, and there are craftsmen too. I like to think I landed the best job, though. Yours truly is the executive chef.”
Steve looked around at the saloon’s décor, particularly at a black and white photo taken a long time ago. The picture showed a broad-shouldered Eastern-European man wielding an axe, standing over giant logs that resembled the ones fortifying the town.
“So what was this place?”
“Well, from what I’ve been told, it’s a place that doesn’t have a very happy past.”
“What do you mean?”
Landon arched both eyebrows as though the history was taboo. “Story goes it used to be a new frontier settlement, as I’m sure you can tell by the rustic look. Anyway, years ago- I’m talking like over a hundred years ago- the town was hit by a terrible winter. A never-ending one, one so bad that food supplies couldn’t make it through the pass. Soon, people started starving. Some packed up and tried their luck on the trails. Others stayed. It was a lose-lose situation. And the ones who stayed began to get violent. You know, the kind of crazy when true hunger takes over? They fought with each other, killed each other. All while this rich German duke, the one who built the town, rode out the winter comfortably in his castle.”
“That’s what that is? The castle on the hillside a mile or so East?”
“Yup, that’s the one, Nick,” Landon answered while cracking a pair of eggs.
“So what happened?”
“Like I said, the winter lasted forever, and despite the townspeople crying and begging for food, the German duke kept his doors shut and locked. They say he was scared of looting, scared the people would kill him and his family and take his food. Makes sense, but when the snow finally stopped and spring thawed out the countryside, the duke opened up his doors and stepped outside…”
“And?” Nick asked, falling into Landon’s dramatic pause.
“And he found everyone dead. The townspeople. All of them. Men, women, kids. He followed the path into town, passing by the luckier ones who froze to death. Once inside the gates, came the real revelation. Inside the church, he discovered the frail bodies of those who died from starvation. The priest huddling around this sad group of people...I can only imagine that whole skin and bones, real frail look, ya know? But that’s not even the most disturbing part...the duke noticed the jailhouse door cracked open and went to investigate. When he pushed open the door, he found a couple people locked up. Ugh, still grosses me out…”
Landon paused to keep himself from vomiting.
“The people who were locked up weren’t criminals, but regular folk like you and me. But the sheriff had apparently gone insane and started eating people. That’s right, cannibal. Full on Hannibal Lecter. He kept people prisoner to eat them. In the end, the sheriff must have had a change of conscience, cause the duke found the word ‘sorry’ handwritten in blood on the sheriff’s door, and behind it, the sheriff dead by way of hanging himself.”
“What happened with the duke?”
“Story has it, the duke immediately left town with his family and never came back. Apparently, the town and the castle sat vacant for years. Gained a reputation for a ghost town. People said that during the coldest winter nights, screams and voices of the townspeople can still be heard. They say the castle is haunted too. But whether all, any or some of the story is true, I don’t know. That’s just what the Preacher told us.”
“How does the Preacher know what happened? He doesn’t look a hundred and forty.”
“Don’t tell me he had avision?” followed Nick.
“Hah, no he’s not. And no vision either. Preacher was the first one here. Well, one of them. He led Jill, Blake, Brad, Justin and a couple others. But the Preacher said that he found the diary of the priest who was here then, and that’s where the details came from.”
“Crazy story,” Steve said, accepting the plate of steaming food. Glancing at the dozen loosely hung black and white photos, Steve felt guilty thinking about the townspeople who had died for food. But the scent of freshly cooked eggs outed the guilt, and he sprinkled a dash of salt on top and packed his mouth full of eggs.
Nick took the last sip of coffee, and casually commented, “Speaking of the Preacher, what was that all about the other night?”
“I’m sure you guys can see. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is still awestruck by it all,” Landon answered, pouring up another serving of coffee. “The Preacher’s never done anything like that. I sure as heck never thought he’d go out to face those demons."
Landon emphasized the last word for the couple who were pretending not to be eavesdropping. Then he turned his head to the side and whispered, "Infected,” followed by a wink.
“And what was that all about with the woman and her condition?”
"Ms. Pendergast? She had a bad bladder infection. I live right above her and would hear her getting up all hours of the night. She’s the grandma type, ya know, pleasant, quiet lady who doesn’t wanna be a burden on others, but she couldn’t take it and finally went to see the Preacher. I didn't see it but when I asked her, she said the Preacher placed his hands over her and used the power of God to heal her."
"And it worked?” Steve asked, mouth full of buttered bread. “Like one of those faith healers?"
"Ya I guess,” Landon answered, handing Steve a cloth to wipe the bits of egg caught unknowingly in his beard. “But seriously though we don't have the meds she needed, it had to be real. Same thing with Mr. Trenton. I was there when Geoff cut himself on some rusted metal. We’re pretty sure he had tetanus. I’m no doctor, but the cut looked bad and his jaw started feeling funny. But the Preacher, he healed Geoff good."
“Speaking of infections,” Nick said, subtly waving Landon in closer to him. "We can trust you, right?"
"Of course," Landon whispered back, confident and pleased to be confided in.
"I know you’ve seen our friend Eddy. You know he’s pretty hurt. I think his leg might be infected."
"And I can make Penicillin for him,” Steve interrupted, licking his fingers. “I just need the right materials."
"How do you make that stuff?" Landon replied, cracking another pair of eggs for himself.
Steve named off th
e first ingredients that came to mind, then said, "To be honest, it would be nice to have some moldy citrus peels or bread, but I might have to culture that too."
Landon snapped his fingers and lifted up the lid to the trash bin. "Moldy like this?" he said, bringing over an expired loaf of bread. Blueish-green mold consumed almost the entire thing. "Toby, the other guy I rotate with, left it in the back and forgot about it. Saw it this morning, good thing I didn't throw it to the chickens yet."
"Perfect!" Steve said, examining the bread.
"You can double check with Marcy, the lady who runs the general store, but I’m pretty sure we don’t have that other stuff here.”
“That’s exactly why I asked if we could trust you,” Nick said, leaning forward. “We need to get out and get back in without being seen. We know the boy Neil has done it and we-”
Landon’s eyes widened and his head shook subtly from side to side. He mouthed, "Shh" and nodded to the couple in the booth. He finished making eggs for himself, then sat at a table near the front window, and waited for Nick and Steve to join him.
"I told you, you can't talk about that stuff in the open. The walls have ears," he leaned to his left and watched the couple watch him suspiciously. "Hope the food is good, Mr. and Mrs. McClennan!"
Landon returned a thumb up and then resumed the real topic.
"Ya, Neil's done it a bunch, just got caught once. Well, twice, but that’s between you, me, Neil and Binky.”
“Binky’s covered for Neil?” Nick mumbled.
“Shoot. Ya, but don’t go saying that either. Anyway, I’ve heard Binky talk. He still doesn’t know how Neil does it. Thinks he just hops over and climbs back in or something.”
"Do you think you could get Neil to tell you how he does it? I wouldn’t involve you, but you seem like a decent guy who wouldn’t want to see another person get sick if it can be avoided.”
"Hmm,” Landon said with an expression of genuine concern that began morphing into doubt. “I don’t know, guys. If you get caught, and they find out I helped you-”
The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side Page 51