Clementine

“What’s that mean?” Barebones asked.

And Hainey said, “Not a thing, except I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“But I heard the city is abandoned. Surely some of these folks can find a way in to harvest what they need?”

“You heard wrong,” the captain assured him. “It isn’t abandoned, and the people who live there don’t much care for visitors. So if you, personally, have sent somebody west to look into it-and if you give half a damn for this person’s continued health-I recommend you send him a telegram urging him to reconsider.”

The hotelman cringed nervously but neither confirmed or denied anything. “Well then, I thank you for the good advice. I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you? You spend a lot of time out that way.”

“I spent plenty of time out that way, sure enough. And I’m not telling you this because I’m worried about you or your men stepping on my toes. I’m no chemist, and I don’t have one of any preference who I’m interested in protecting. I’m only telling you, in a friendly exchange of information, that there’s a damn good reason there’s only a handful of folks who ever get their hands on that gas. That’s all I’m saying.”

Halliway flapped his hands in a casual shushing gesture and said, “I hear you, I hear you. And I’ll absolutely take it under advisement, and pass it around. I trust you, more or less.”

“I appreciate it, more or less.”

And there they found themselves stopped at a pair of double doors. “Right through here, gentlemen,” Barebones said. He opened one of the doors and held it, revealing a gameroom beyond that was half filled with card-playing men sitting at round, felt-covered tables. Bottles of alcohol were granted to each group, and stacks of red, white, and blue chips were gathered together in puddles and mounds, or clasped between fingers, behind cards.

Most of the men glanced up and held their gaze, surprised and sometimes unhappy to see the newcomers. Three men towards the back folded their hands, placing whatever cards they’d been dealt on the table and gathering their things.

“Fellas,” Halliway said. “Fellas, come on with me, right through here. There’s a spot in the back where we can talk.”

The captain, Simeon, and Lamar threaded their way around the tables and past them like cogs in a watch, keeping circular paths to dodge the chairs and the quietly gossiping players. One man said, too loudly as they went by, “I didn’t know this was that kind of joint, Barebones. You letting just about anybody in, these days?”

To which Halliway Coxey Barebones said back, “Keep it to yourself, Reese. They’re colleagues of mine.” And once they were well out of reach, he said, “And if you have a problem with it, you can get your lightning elsewhere.” But it was a feeble defense, spoken hastily and over his shoulder. “Back here, fellas.”

Simeon whispered to Lamar, “Back where nobody can see us, you want to bet it?”

Lamar said, “No, I won’t take that bet.”

If Halliway heard them, he didn’t react except to usher them into an office space crammed from floor to ceiling with cabinets, crates, and leftover glass bits that belonged in a still. The room smelled like sawdust and hard-filtered grain, but it was spacious and featured enough chairs for everyone-and a desk for Barebones to lean his backside against while he spoke and listened.

When the door was shut, a small panel beneath the nearest cabinet revealed a liquor set and a stack of glasses. “Could I offer any of you boys a sip?”

Simeon and Lamar accepted with great cheer, but Hainey said, “No, and you can stick to calling us ‘fellas’ if you like. You don’t have ten years on me, old man, and I’m no boy of yours.”

For a moment, the hotelman looked confused, and then something clicked, and then he said, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I didn’t mean it that way, not like…I didn’t mean anything by it. I only meant to offer you a drink.”

The captain believed him, though he didn’t let it show. He only nodded. “That’s good of you, but I still don’t need a drop quite yet.”

“You need something else.”

“We need a ship. It’s like I told you, the bird that brought us here went to ground. We crashed her bad,” he flipped a thumb at Lamar, “But my man here put her back together good enough to get us here, and now we’ve got farther to go-and no wings to carry us.”

Barebones poured himself three fingers of cherry-colored liquor from an unmarked bottle. He took a swallow, leaned with half a cheek sitting on the desk, the other half leaning on it, and said, “That’s a tall order you’re placing. We’ve got docks here, back another half mile at the southeast edge of town, but I don’t know of anyone looking to sell a ship. You got money, I’m guessing?”

“Like always,” Hainey said without resorting to specifics. “We can pay, and pay big if we’ve got to.”

Behind the square glass lenses, the hotelman’s eyes went shrewd. “You’re stopping just short of saying that money’s no object.”

“I’m stopping well short of it,” the captain corrected him. “And this isn’t a money run, or a gun run, or any other kind of run. This is a personal venture, and I’m willing to spend what’s necessary to see it through-but I’m not willing to let anyone take advantage of us, just because we’ve got needs and means.”

“Oh no, obviously not. Of course not. You misunderstand me,” Barebones said, but Hainey didn’t think he did.

“I don’t misunderstand a thing, and I want to make sure you don’t, either. We need a ship, and that’s all. We need a ship and we’ll be out of your hair first thing come dawn.”

Halliway said, “But I don’t have a ship to give you. Hell, right now I don’t even have one to sell you-and that’s saying something. You’ve caught me between runs of guns down to Mexico and smokes up to Canada, and it’s not that I don’t want to help, but not a one of my ships is home safe for me to spare it. If you don’t believe me, check the docks-you know where they are, and you know where I keep my birds cooped. If I had wings to loan you, I’d hand you the deed on the spot. But now I simply must ask: What on earth happened to your Crow?”

The captain grimaced and frowned, and after a moment’s hesitation he laid out the truth. “Stolen. The Free Crow was taken by a red-haired crook called Felton Brink-and don’t ask me why,” he added fast. “If I knew, I’d have an easier time chasing him. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him come through here, have you? You couldn’t miss him. He’s got a head that looks like a fire pit, and he’s piloting my ship-you’d know it on sight, I know you would-but he’s calling her Clementine.”

“No,” Barebones said thoughtfully. “No, I haven’t heard a thing about that, or I’d have been less startled to see you on my doorstep. But if you ask around down at the docks, you might hear something more encouraging.”

The captain made a small shrug that was not disappointed, exactly, but rather resigned. He said, “I’m not surprised. They filled up outside of Topeka, and can probably run another couple hundred miles. I don’t know if Brink knew I had contacts in Kansas City, but I do know he’s sticking to the rural roads and airways as much as he can.”

“And you don’t know where he’s going?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea,” Hainey said. “If I knew, I’d try and sneak underneath him, and head him off. But it was a damned unfair thing, to steal my war bird. It was damned unfair, and damned stupid.”

“I hope he’s being paid, and paid gloriously,” Halliway said through another mouthful of alcohol. “If the poor fool knew who he was stealing from, I mean.” He sounded nervous again, and Hainey made a note of it. “Crossing you, that’s not a healthy thing for a man to do, now is it?”

“Not at all. But you know that better than anyone, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen it in action,” Barebones said. “Yes sir, I surely have. But I’ve never crossed you before and I won’t start now-which doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a bird to give you. But then again…” he said, and fiddled with the corner of his glasses.