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Copyright © 2004, S. Y. Affolee 6 Open Window She stood at the open window staring out into the dark sky and the dark streets. The conversation they had downstairs, she had admitted to herself, had nettled her. She tried hard not to think about the Others or the Authority if she could help it, but they were never far from her mind. If Altner had guessed who she was from a few rumors, it wasn’t such a bold leap to think that They had an inkling of what she was. So far, though, she had managed to dodge all encounters with Them except for the one time she barely escaped with her life. Oh, she had no doubt they were trying to find her. The darkness outside shifted and she felt a frission of alarm sneak up her spine. Something out there was watching and waiting for a foolish misstep. She grunted and shut the window. She placed a hand on the pane and mouthed a few choice words. The reflective surface of the glass dulled almost imperceptibly. She was a veteran at this, she thought to herself. No one was going to catch her wandering out there without any backup. She took off her felt hat and placed it on the table next to the bed. She really should go to sleep. There would be no telling how little time she had for it in the future. Her eyes wandered to the window again. That would confuse Them, if they bothered to try that window. Even They had to follow certain physical rules despite their reputation for possessing mythical powers. But their favorite weapon was fear. And a very effective one at that, she admitted. The Others’ indiscriminate punishments of anyone who knew anything effectively silenced everyone. It was a wonder that life seemed normal. Axel Redding, her former mentor, had mentioned once that the Others didn’t wield so much power a couple generations ago but he never explained how they got that way. A knock at the door made her head and shoulders jerk upward. Quietly, she crossed the room. With one hand, she grasped the doorknob. The other hand laid palm flat on the door. The wrought iron of the doorknob warmed under her fingers. A moment later, an answering warmth seeped to her other hand. She twisted the knob and pulled the door open. Dash, with his fedora tipped up to reveal most of his face, blinked slowly, his hand still raised up for a second round of knocking. “What are you doing here?” He frowned. “May I come in?” She opened the door wider. When he was completely in the room, she stuck her head outside and examined the hallway. No one was about. She closed the door and turned to see him slightly smiling. “Worried that people might get the wrong idea about us?” “I don’t care what other people think,” she replied. “I was checking for obvious listeners.” “Paranoid, huh?” “No, just cautious.” She nodded slightly toward the window. He frowned again. “You saw something.” It wasn’t a question. “I came here to let you know to be careful. I don’t like this place. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.” She crossed her arms. “Look who’s paranoid now.” His gaze darkened. “You haven’t visited Copper Run often enough.” She paused at his tone. How many times had he visited the outpost before? What did he see and what did he encounter? Sure, there were rumors about him that she had heard from the lips of swooning women, but there were the other rumors from hardened men that made her reconsider. If he was worried, then it must be serious indeed. “What makes Copper Run different than the other outposts?” she asked. “It’s no different.” He paced the room and when he turned around to walk back, he headed to the table with her hat. He glanced at the bed and something flickered in his gaze. Then it was gone. “All outposts are a little strange, especially when they border the Dustlands. No one will care so much if a bunch of crazy treasure seekers disappear out there. What concerns them more, perhaps, if someone comes back.” “Comes back?” “We might need to bypass the posts altogether when we do.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked at her, eyes lucid. “Altner would probably agree with me.” “Can we trust him?” “Hmm. He recognized us. Which could be a good or bad thing depending on his allegiances. I think we can trust him. For the time being.” “I suppose I’ll agree with you there. He doesn’t exactly feel wrong.” “I thought you said there were no right or wrong men.” “Perhaps that was the wrong adjective to use. He didn’t feel bad, then.” “Bad and good. I wonder what makes me?” She scoffed. “You’re just ridiculous.” She said it to irritate him, not because that particular description fit him. The corner of his eye twitched. “Lucky for you, Pru, I’m not so quick tempered.” “Calm as can be, huh?” “Yeah, that’s me.” He was still frowning. “Do me a favor, will you? Don’t open the door to any ol’ person like you did me.” “I’m not an idiot, Dash. I used the old heat transfer trick. I suppose you forgot about that one?” He chuckled. “And did you remember that doesn’t always work either?” He strolled to the door, opened it, and stepped through the threshold. “Good night, Pru.” She closed the door after him and wondered if Scamp had slept through all of that. Ficket and Altner were already downstairs ordering breakfast when Prudence and Scamp showed up in the dining room. She took a chair across from the two men and gave her order to the bleary eyed waitress. She tugged down the brim of her felt hat and surveyed the room around them as she sat back in her chair. It was mostly empty. Too early for hard drinkers. Altner looked the same as he did the night before. Ficket looked positively chipper. Prudence scowled and wished the waitress would hurry up with the coffee. She had been in bed, awake, for most of the night, thinking about the things on the other side of the window. “Where’s Dash?” she said. Altner contemplated her for a moment before saying, “He went out a little earlier to scout out the supply stores. “Why would he do that?” The waitress came back with food and coffee. Prudence gulped down the caffeine laden drink, heedless of the fact that it was scalding her tongue. Her muzzy head was clearing, little by little. The sausage and bacon breakfast made her stomach turn though so she placed the plate on the floor. Scamp sniffed at the breakfast and then consumed it happily, in two bites. “I heard talk that some other people were looking for Salamander Hill,” said Ficket. “Apparently they passed through Copper Run about a week ago buying out most of the supply stores around here. Hopefully they’ve already restocked, but,” he shrugged, “we’ll see when he gets back. I’m not too worried about those other people though. I have something that they don’t have. My cousin’s map.” “I’m not familiar with the supply schedule of the outposts,” said Prudence, “But don’t they usually stock up once every month or two?” “Usually,” said Altner. “Sometimes more often, if circumstances permit.” “Circumstances?” The large bearded man shrugged. “It’s erratic. I’m not sure if it follows any rhyme or reason.” The three of them turned toward the entrance of the inn when the door slammed open and a pair of booted feet stomped toward them. It was Dash. He was holding three foil-wrapped trays and he looked like he was in a foul mood. He dropped the trays on the table and grabbed Prudence’s mug of coffee for a long swig. “Hey, get your own drink!” she spluttered. He gave her a black look when he finally put the mug down. “You really need to learn how to share. Thank me for all this bounty that I’ve taken the trouble to obtain for you.” Ficket unwrapped a corner of the top tray and took a sniff. “You got meat pies?” Dash slumped into an empty chair and rubbed his face. “There’s a supply store at the end of the main street that’s open. We can get our stuff there. However, when I was coming back, I got ambushed.” “By who?” asked Altner sharply. He waved toward the trays. “Some women. I don’t remember their names, nor do I give a damn. Why on earth they were up at this hour, I have no clue. I thought women needed beauty sleep or something.” “Not me,” said Prudence. Dash gave her another look. “Did I mention before that you look horrible? You didn’t get any sleep last night, did you?” “And by your attitude this morning, neither did you,” she retorted. “Ooookay,” said Altner, “Enough of the lovers’ spat. What did those women want with you?” The two trouvers momentarily glowered at the wilderness guide before Dash said, “You assume too much, Altner. Anyways, they wanted to give me all this food for my journey. Or at least that’s what they told me.” “We’ll, I’m not one to turn down free food,” said Ficket cheerily. “What if it’s poisoned?” Prudence replied. She poked at the trays with an index finger. Altner stroked his beard. “She’s got a point there.” “You’re being paranoid again, Pru. I know it’s not poisoned.” She looked at Dash, then blinked when he suddenly smiled. “One of your tricks this time, huh?” “Tricks?” Ficket was bewildered. Prudence traced the tray with her finger, this time deliberately although Ficket or the hovering waitress couldn’t tell the difference. She felt and smelled nothing out of place. “Okay, maybe I’m being too paranoid.” “Could be,” Dash replied. She let out an exasperated breath and asked the waitress for another cup of coffee.  |