Railroad! Collection 3 (The Three Volume Ombinus)

by Tonia Brown

  “That son of a biscuit eater,” Al whispered.

  “I had plans for her,” Rex said over Al’s whisper, “but those plans had to change, as death robbed me of her employ. Still, I am nothing if not adaptable. You have witnessed that already, so I am sure you understand. I suppose you are curious as to the children’s location. To this, I say, ‘Answer me one question, and you will know their location.’ Are we ready? Here it is.”

  Dodger closed his eyes and prepared for the coming riddle.

  Rex said, “The man who builds it doesn’t want it. The man who buys it doesn’t need it. And the man who needs it doesn’t know it. What am I? Good luck, Mr. Dodger. If you don’t solve the riddle in the next six hours, your precious little ones will be with their mother once more.” Vivaldi rose in volume to drown out Rex’s wild laughter.

  Dodger took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and set to unraveling the riddle.

  Somewhere beside him, Al said, just under his breath, “Amateur.”

  Dodger snapped open his eyes and stared down at the older man.

  Al folded his arms with a wince. “He could’ve made it a bit more of a challenge.”

  “You have solved the puzzle?” the doc asked.

  Al grinned at the doc. “Haven’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well?” Dodger asked.

  “Well?” the doc asked.

  “What is it?”

  “What is what?”’

  “The answer!”

  “All right then, no need to shout. It’s a-”

  “No cheatin’,” Al said over the doc’s answer.

  “Oh my. I do apologize.” The professor went quiet and returned to inspecting Al’s various wounds.

  “Really?” Dodger asked. “You’re going to do this now? Those kids are in danger. We have to go get them. We don’t have time for this nonsense.”

  “And I thought I raised you smarter than you are actin’ right now. Calm down. He just said we had six hours to figure it out. No sense in running off guns a-blazin’.”

  Dodger grabbed his hair and had to fight the urge to pull it out by the roots. “I was right; you haven’t changed. You’re still insufferable.”

  “And you’re still a roustabout. Solve the puzzle, darn it. Stop embarrassing yourself. And me.”

  Exhaling slowly again, Dodger parked himself on the footstool, or kiddie chair or whatever it was, and gathered his thoughts. A man who builds it doesn’t want it. That could be any number of things. Why would a man buy it but not need it? Because he is buying it for someone else. Of course.

  “Whatcha looking for?” Al asked.

  “Just the right compound,” the doc said. The sounds of the man rummaging around in his medical bag filled the room. “I have some medicine that will not only mend your broken bones in a few minutes, but will make you feel ten times younger.”

  “Sir, I am almost ninety years old. I don’t think anything can make me feel anything less than ninety.”

  The rummaging sound ceased. “Sir, I am almost sixty and am willing to bet otherwise.”

  “Whatcha bettin’?”

  Dodger smiled. He knew he should step in and explain that betting against the doc in anything but cards was always a mistake. Yet he didn’t. Served Al right for being so pigheaded about the riddle. Riddle, riddle, riddle. Dodger squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate as the men bantered back and forth about bets and medicine and the merits of their advanced ages.

  The man who needs it doesn’t know it? Why not? What would keep a man from knowing he needed something? Ignorance? A loss of consciousness? That could be it. Perhaps that was why the first man was buying the much-needed thing for the second man—because the second man was unable to make the purchase himself. What would an unconscious man need that could be built by someone who didn’t want it himself?

  Dodger opened his eyes, and his smile widened.

  “Ya got it, boy?” Al asked.

  Dodger nodded.

  “Good. I thought you’d never—Ow! Watch where you’re sticking that thing.”

  “Sorry,” the doc said. “But the needle has to be inserted in the tenderest of places to achieve maximum effectiveness.”

  “I’ll put my foot in your tenderest of places if you don’t cut … it … out …” Al’s words faded as he went stone still. His pupils dilated to fill his eyes. His breath turned into a raspy wheeze. Sweat pebbled across his wrinkled brow.

  “Al?” Dodger asked. “Doc? Is he all right?”

  “Don’t worry,” the doc said. “He will be fine in a few—there we go. He is coming back already.”

  Al blinked a couple of times as his body relaxed and his breathing returned to normal. He flexed his arms without wincing, then rolled his head around on his loosened neck. Al touched his eyes, gently probing the places that had been swollen mere seconds before.

  “How do you feel?” the doc asked.

  “I feel ten years younger,” Al said.

  “Excellent. I believe you owe me a pound.”

  “I’ll give you fifty pounds if you hit me with that mix again.”

  The pair of them laughed, and the sound of it warmed Dodger’s heart. He never suspected his current boss man would meet—let alone get along with—his old boss man. Would wonders never cease?

  “Can I ask one question?” Mr. Torque asked.

  “Certainly,” the doc said.

  “What was the answer?”

  “To what?”

  “The riddle!” Mr. Torque caught himself, calming his voice and manners. “I realize I am decades ahead of most humans in both intellect and style, but I cannot, for the life of me, solve this little puzzle that is so beneath me.”

  “Your lack of life might have a lot to do with your not understanding the question.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The answer is something you will never desire, use or need.”

  “Stop being rhetorical and get to the point!”

  The doc giggled, delighted by the metal manservant’s irritation.

  “It’s a coffin, Torque,” Dodger said, letting the poor clockwork man off the hook.

  “Ah,” Mr. Torque said. “I was going to guess that.”

  “Of course you were,” the doc said. “What I don’t understand is how it helps us find those missing kiddies.”

  “That part is the easiest,” Dodger said. “He has them in a place called Coffin Keep.”

  “Are you sure?” Mr. Torque asked.

  “He’s sure,” Al said.

  “What is Coffin Keep?” the doc asked.

  “A manmade system of caves a few miles northwest of here,” Dodger said. “So called because a man named Coffin made them.”

  The doc’s eyes brightened at the news. “Manmade caves? How interesting. I should like to see that. Still, how can you both be so certain? Perhaps the coffin clue means something different?”

  “No, it’s Coffin Keep all right,” Dodger said. “Because Coffin Keep was the last place Al and I saw each other.”

  ****

  back to toc

  ****

  Chapter Ten

  Flash from the Past Part IV

  In which Dodger remembers the winter of 1860

  Dodger stood at the mouth of the cavern, watching Al strip a rabbit with his bare hands beside a roaring campfire. With a quick yank and peel, Al turned out the carcass, tossing the fur aside for possible later use. He then scooped away the guts, throwing the inedible bits into the open flames. Last, he shoved what remained—which was never much when it came to the lean game of jackrabbits—onto a branch and propped it by the others near the flames. The sizzle of fresh rabbit left Dodger’s mouth watering.

  “You gonna stand there all day and watch?” Al asked without looking up. “Or are you gonna pull up a rock and join me?”

  Al rinsed his hands in an already crimson bucket of water at his feet, while Dodger took in the breadth of the cavern before he took a load off.

&n
bsp; “Amazin’,” Al said. “Ain’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dodger said, still looking about. “Stays pretty warm too. I thought it would be cold in here.”

  “Cool in the summer, warm in the winter, with a campfire, of course.”

  “Of course. Where on earth did it come from? Because I don’t remember a cave being here when I was training with you.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t here. Man named Jack Coffin made this place.”

  “Made it? Is that why it’s called Coffin Keep?”

  “Yes, sir. The old miner moved here in ‘50 after striking it rich. Seems he got tired of defending his claim, so he milked what gold he could from the vein and moved as far from California as he could get. Thing about these territories, though, turned out to be far too flat for the man.”

  Dodger smirked. “He was uncomfortable living above ground on such expanses of open range after being in the dirt for so long?”

  “Yup. So, he excavated these here caves with intention of taking a bride and living happily ever after under the soil. He scooped away the earth, set the walls with brick, and as you can see, had himself a livable hole in the ground. He soon learned that while he was unhappy living above ground, there wasn’t a woman on earth who would agree to live beneath it, no matter how much gold he had stashed down there.”

  “I can’t say I blame them.”

  “You still hate tight places?”

  “I could do without them.”

  Al grunted at the idea. “Guess we all have a weakness. As for Coffin, he immediately sold the land and caves to the U.S. government, they parked a no trespassing sign on the whole affair, and that was that.”

  “Seems kind of a shame that they don’t let folks come up here.”

  “Seems to me exactly the kind of thing they would do. Keep something so beautiful just for their private viewing.”

  At that, the pair of them fell into a quiet stupor, each staring at the flames rather than acknowledging the reason for the silence between them. The rabbits hissed and crackled. The fire sputtered. A light breeze whistled through the chilled cave.

  Dodger decided to go first, seeing as how, unlike Al, he didn’t have all the time in the world to dance around the subject. “Why did you do it, Al?”

  “I warned him to get off my property,” Al said. “I even counted to ten.”

  “He’s a federal agent.”

  “Tyler Crank is a jackass, and you know it.”

  Dodger couldn’t argue with that. “Jackass or not, you can’t put a bullet in the foot of an agent and just get away with it.”

  “Is that why they sent you? Because I can’t get away with it?”

  Dodger looked to the rock and dirt between his feet, rather than answer such an obvious question. From the corner of his eye, Dodger watched Al set to pulling the rabbits from their stakes, tossing the hot meat into a wooden bowl between them. Half a dozen in all. Not much of a meal, but a good snack.

  “Help yerself,” Al said. “More than I can eat.”

  “You were expecting me,” Dodger said.

  “I was expecting a guest.” Al flipped back the folds of his coat, making sure that Dodger saw the guns resting at the old man’s thin hips. “I just hoped it wouldn’t be you. But here you are, Rodger, doin’ your master’s bidding.”

  Dodger glanced at the guns, wondering if Al really intended to use them. “Al, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not here to-”

  “Don’t lie to me, boy!” Al shouted, placing a hand on the butt of his gun.

  His words bounced and ricocheted all along the length of the small cave, each one piercing Dodger’s heart over and over again with each rebound.

  When the echo died down, Al said in a much lower tone, “Don’t lie. Not now. I knew what I was doing when I pulled my piece on Crank. I drew a line, and I said, ‘This is my side; cross if you dare.’ Well, you crossed it. So be daring, son. Don’t lie like a coward.” Al released his weapon, snapped up a rabbit and tore into it with the ferocity of a hungry animal eating its last meal.

  “It’s not a lie, sir,” Dodger said. “I admit I was given your case to handle. And yes, I was instructed to use extreme prejudice, but I-”

  “Extreme prejudice?” Al snorted between bites. “Is that what they call killin’ a man in cold blood now?”

  “I suppose so, but you should know, sir, I refused.”

  Al spit out a bit of fur or bone and wiped his chin as he eyed Dodger. “Refused? I didn’t think a proper agent had the ability to refuse his masters.”

  “Yeah, I wonder where I learned it from.” Dodger tried to grin, but the humor was lost in the heat of the moment.

  “Then you’re here to do what? Warn me another agent is a-comin’? Help me get my wrinkled tail to higher ground? ‘Cause you can forget all about me runnin’. I’m too old and too set in my ways to leave here, boy. Not to mention too set into that house of mine. I ain’t leavin’.”

  “You don’t have to leave. I took the job but refused to handle it their way. I told them I would handle it my way, or there would be no job.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “By taking responsibility for you.”

  Al tossed the half-eaten rabbit into the flames with a scowl. “I see.”

  “I promised them you wouldn’t cause any more trouble. That you just wanted to be left alone. So they agreed to leave you alone, as long as you behave.”

  “Behave!” Al jumped to his feet and rushed Dodger, grabbing him up by the collar of his shirt and jacket. “Listen here, youngun, I ain’t some half-crazy uncle you need to vouch for. I was killin’ men and kickin’ tail long before you were even a glint in your papa’s eye.”

  “I realize that, sir. I don’t mean any disrespect.”

  “Then why ya comin’ into my territory, pissin’ all over my property like you plan on takin’ over?”

  Dodger shoved Al away and stood to meet the old man face to angry face. “God damn it, Al! Haven’t you always wanted out of this kind of life? That’s what I’m offering you. A way out, for good. Why can’t you just take it and be grateful?”

  Al held his trembling hands to his face, as if surprised that he’d laid them on Dodger in such a manner. “I’m sorry, son. I just … I can’t do this anymore. I’m in my seventies. I’m an old man, boy. I can’t just up and leave.”

  “I told you I ain’t gonna make you leave.”

  “Not you, son. Not you.” Al dropped onto his log again and hunched so far down that Dodger worried for a moment that the old man was going to fall over into the flames.

  “Sir?” Dodger asked. “What is this really about?”

  “They wanna take my home,” Al said.

  Dodger returned to his seat, confused by this turn of events. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why do you think Tyler Crank came to see me?”

  “He said he had business with you. Business you refused to discuss.”

  Al snorted again. “He had business, all right. Comin’ up in here, talkin’ about how the government owns my house and my land. Like hell they do. I paid for this land with my blood.” Al poked at the fire a bit before he added, “As well as the blood of many a man.”

  “I guess Crank forgot to mention that part.” Dodger cleared his throat, dreading the next question because he was fairly sure what the answer was going to be. “Do they, sir? I mean, do they properly own the house and land?”

  Al shrugged, which of course meant yes. “They set me up here. Back in the day, they said as far as the eye could see was mine, but I never signed nothin’, so I suppose it really is my fault. I just took in their whelps, gave ‘em a place to stay, taught ‘em to fight and thought that was enough payment. I always supposed I would die in my sleep in my own bed. But Crank says they own that too.”

  Dodger closed his eyes and sighed. That sounded like something the powers that be would do—work a man into his old age, then come in and take everything he ever owned in t
he name of progress. Dodger had a pretty good idea why.

  “It’s because there’s talk of the territory making statehood,” Dodger said, looking to Al again.

  “I heard the rumors,” Al said. “Gonna be blood here soon. Fighting over the soil and whatnot. I suppose now is as good a time as any to be on my way.”

  “You don’t have to go, sir.”

  “I can’t stay, Rodger. I ain’t got no income. No work, since I stopped takin’ in the brats they were sending me. All I ever had was in that house.”

  “I know. And that house is yours, or rather, it will be before I’m done.”

  Al cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

  “I have some money put away, and I-”

  “No,” Al snapped. “I won’t let you waste your hard-earned money on my problems just because you want to feel better about yourself-”

  “I don’t want to, sir. I need to. That is my house too, Al. After my pa died, I never thought I would be happy again. But I spent the best years of my new life here. I won’t let them take those years away from me. I might not have much left, but I still have my integrity.” He smiled, hoping Al would remember the words they’d last spoken to one another, ten years ago.

  Al gave a sad little frown and shook his head. “Do you, son? ‘Cause from the tales I’ve been hearin’, I’m not so sure.”

  Dodger’s face flushed with heat. It had been years since he’d gone red with embarrassment, but if there was someone who could bring it out in him, Al would be the man.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dodger lied.

  “They say you will kill a man as soon as look at him,” Al said.

  “I do what needs to be done.”

  “They say you’re the best at handling the problem cases, because you ain’t got a heart.”

  “A heart don’t get the work done.”

  “Well they say you don’t care who you kill, as long as you get the job done.”

  “I do what I have to. That’s what you taught me.”

  “I didn’t teach you that. They say you’ll tear through a mother to get to her son.”

  “They say a lot of things about you too!” Dodger shouted, and that ended Al’s accusations.