Free The Seeds of Man by William C. Dietz Page B

Wouldn’t be the first time.”
    “Then why travel with a wagon?”
    “‘Cause I haul my medicine on it,” Charlie said. “Now, let’s tidy up. I reckon the body in the bushes belongs to you—and the other one is mine. Course, you winged him, so maybe you see things differently.”
    Even though Tre knew that stripping bodies was necessary in order to survive, Charlie’s emotion-free pragmatism bothered him. His mother was right. Bit by bit, humans were losing their humanity. “No, he’s yours. Like you said, I winged him, but that’s all.”
    Charlie nodded approvingly. “Good. Then we need to find the horses. There should be two of them, right?”
    There it was again. A hint of doubt. If there were
three
horses, that would indicate that Tre was one of the bandits. He nodded. “Yes, two horses.”
    So they parted company long enough to take what they wanted from the dead bodies. Tre wound up with an ancient lever-action .30-30, a handful of ammo, and a hand-forged Bowie knife. Not much of a haul. Charlie didn’t say what his pickings were like, but Tre figured they weren’t much better.
    The moon was long gone, so Tre produced the flashlight he had taken from Bob. As expected, the horses were tethered a few hundred yards away next to the highway and according to Charlie were in bad shape. Tre didn’t know much about horses, having never owned one, but suspected that Charlie was laying the groundwork for an advantageous deal. That theory was confirmed as they led the animals into the firelit clearing. “Tell you what,” Charlie said. “I’ll buy your animal if you’re willing.”
    Tre took notice of the way in which Charlie had already assumed ownership of one horse but let it pass. The problem with owning a horse was that he would be forced to feed and defend it. But he didn’t want to give the animal away either. “I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “I could sling my pack on it.”
    That stimulated a litany of complaints about horses. “The only reason I have them is because of the wagon,” Charlie explained. “Otherwise I’d be happy to walk.”
    “You make some good points,” Tre allowed. “I’ll tell you what . . . I’ll sell my horse for one hundred and fifty rounds of .45 ammo plus a ride to Alpine.”
    “A hundred and fifty?” Charlie exclaimed. “You’re out of your mind. I’ll give you fifty.”
    “A hundred and that’s final. And the ride.”
    Charlie looked at him. “How old are you anyway?”
    “Twenty.”
    Charlie laughed. “You’re full of it, son. But you have a deal.”
    “I want the ammo up front.”
    “Of course you do,” Charlie replied as he tied his horse to a tree. “I’ll be right back.”
    As Charlie climbed up onto his wagon, Tre moved next to the fire. He hadn’t been there for more than a minute when the dogs returned. They came silently this time, flowing through the trees like water between stones. As they entered the circle of firelight, Tre saw that all of them had bloody muzzles. What had they been eating—the horse or the man?
    Tre placed a hand on the .410 and began to back away. “Stay where you are,” Charlie ordered from up on the wagon. “Don’t look them in the eye.”
    A big husky seemed to be in charge of the pack. He looked as if he might be part wolf and growled menacingly as he came forward. Charlie was on the ground by then. “That’s Blue,” he said. “I call him that because he has blue eyes. Hey, Blue, this is Tre . . . He’s a good human. Don’t buy a horse from him, though, ‘cause you’ll come up short.”
    Tre figured that was Charlie’s way of soothing the dog, and he realized something else as well. Had he wanted to, Charlie could have ordered the dogs to tear him apart. Then the old man could have kept all the loot. He looked at Charlie and saw him smile. “That’s right, son . . . You’re smart, but you missed something. But you don’t need to worry, ‘cause I’m a man of my