Harlan put his bag into the box. Jem held up his hands, “I travel light.”
“Weapons too,” Boles said. “It’s standard procedure.”
“None that I ever heard of,” Jem said.
“Suit yourself,” Boles said. “There’s other coaches for hire.”
Jem saw a young, nervous boy sitting in the forward carry, holding the destrier’s reins. The kid had a scattergun at his side that looked bigger than he did. Boles saw Jem looking and said, “That’s just my boy, Charlie Junior. He rides shotgun with me just in case there’s any trouble. That’s why you don’t need those hand cannons, Mr. Howard. We can take care of any problems that arise, but I don’t want one of my passengers shooting us in the butt by accident.”
Harlan held the door open for Adam and told him to get on. Jem said, “Hang on a minute, Mr. Wells. We’ll catch the next one together.”
“Can’t, Tom. We already paid upfront for this ride, and can’t afford to lose the deposit. Take it or leave it, we’re throwing our lot in with this fellow.”
Charlie Boles helped Adam up the step and waved his hand at Harlan. “And now for you, sir? Your chariot.” Boles looked at Jem and said, “Either ditch them Defeaters in the back or find another ride.”
Jem unhooked his gun belt and handed it over to Boles. “You be real, real careful with these now.”
Boles took the belt and steadied both dangling guns in his hand before he opened the box and laid them gently inside. “Some serious firepower you got there, Mr. Howard. You ever had a chance to use ‘em?”
“Only on what deserved it,” Jem said. He hoisted himself into the carriage and Charlie Boles turned the lock that sealed them inside.
Adam stared out the window and panted like a dog, his face near enough to the glass to fog it up with his breath. Harlan rubbed the back of Adam’s head, reassuring him that everything was all right. “He gets nervous in confined spaces. We don’t travel much.” Harlan looked Jem over and said, “But that doesn’t explain why you look so nervous, Tom.”
Jem’s eyes were locked on the narrow port window that looked up at Charlie Boles’s boots. Junior tapped his feet ceaselessly on the loose boards. Jem shook his head, “What makes you think I’m nervous?”
“Nothing, I guess. I’m just making conversation. Pay me no mind.”
The carriage started moving and shifting from side to side. Adam laughed and bounced up and down in his seat. Harlan put his hand on his son’s shoulder, “Like I said, he’s worked up about this. If you need to catch some sleep I’ll do my best to keep him quiet.”
“No. That won’t be necessary.” Jem looked through the opposite window as the town rolled past.
Several hours later, the destriers were still moving at full gallop. The beasts were in good condition and the signs of civilization disappeared. The wasteland extended into long stretches of red shale with dust that blew in rolling waves. Adam’s head was in Harlan’s lap, but he was awake, occupying himself by sticking his fingers into his mouth, then taking them out to stare at the strands of drool. The old man’s head was cocked back and he snored so loud that he drowned out the noise of the wheels spinning under the carriage.
Charlie Boles Junior’s feet tapped away in the forward perch, building to a frantic pace that stopped just as the destriers began to slow. The carriage rolled to a stop. Jem took in a deep breath and held it.
There was talk between the men above that ended when Charlie shouted, “Stop arguing with me and get your candy ass down there like we talked about!”
The lock on the carriage door spun and Junior opened it, pointing a double-barreled Winchester inside the carriage. The boy’s hands shook and he stuttered when he said, “Get your hands up, all of you!”
Jem got down from his seat and squatted in front of Junior, putting his chest against the barrel. “Do me a favor, son? Take your finger off that trigger. Professionals keep it on the side of the frame unless they need to shoot.”
“Shut up! Wake up the old man and the mushbrain and get out of the carriage.”
Jem smiled wide. “Ain’t no need for that. These two don’t have a dime on them. I, on the other hand, have got something you and your Dad will desperately want. Leave these two out of it and I’ll make sure the two of you are more than compensated.”
Junior looked from the passenger door to where Charlie Boles was sitting. “Hey, Pa?”
“They out of the carriage yet?” Boles shouted.
“Go on, tell him,” Jem whispered. “He won’t be mad once he sees how much severian I’m holding.”
“Pa? I need you to come here.”
“Goddammit, Junior. So help me God, if they ain’t out of there yet, there is gonna be hell to pay.” Charlie Boles came around the side and cursed when he saw Jem still sitting in the doorway. He cracked Junior across the back of the head so hard that tears showed up in the boy’s eyes. Boles snatched the shotgun away and pushed Junior out of the way. “I apologize for the lack of precision to all this, Mr. Howard. He’s new and just getting started. I’m sure you understand.”
“More than you know,” Jem said.
“Now, kindly exit the carriage and stand over there behind it while I remove the other two.”
“I was just telling Charlie Junior that there’s really no need-”
Boles cocked the gun’s hammer and wrapped his finger around the trigger. “I can take your money whether you are alive to know it or not, Mr. Howard. I’d prefer you walk away from this, but I assure you, I will put a hole in your body if you do not extricate.”
Jem got down from the door and moved in the direction he was told. Boles poked his head into the carriage and cursed. He handed the shotgun over to Junior. “You keep that scatter gun on him and if he moves, shoot him,” Boles said. He pointed a bent finger at Junior, “If he moves and you do not shoot him, I am going to grievously injure you.”
Junior turned back to Jem. The boy had a nervous tic that made his eyes squish together and his nose twitch. Jem said, “Don’t worry, Junior. I like you, so I’ll stand still.”
Boles climbed into the carriage, followed by Adam’s horrified scream. Harlan Wells shouted in protest and Boles backed down from the doorway, drawing a pistol from his waist. “Get out here right now. Move it, old man. I swear to God, I will either shoot you both or drag that retard out by his ears and when they rip off I’ll make ‘em into a necklace.”
Harlan’s head poked out of the carriage, “This is an outrage!”
“Just get out here, Mr. Wells. Adam will be calm if you’re calm,” Jem said. “Do what they tell you and everything will be fine.”
Harlan came down, complaining that his back had stiffened up on the ride and not to rush him. He waved his hand at Adam and said, “Come on out, son. It’s okay. I want to show you something.”
Adam braced both hands against the doorframe and anchored himself inside the carriage. Charlie Boles kicked the side of the wagon and shouted, “Get out here before I drag you out!”
Adam vanished. Harlan yelled at Boles, “Don’t scare him like that! If he gets panicked, he’ll have a seizure, you son of a bitch.”
“Fine. If the retard wants to sit in there and bake to death, let him.” Boles slammed the carriage door shut and Adam started beating the inside of the door with his fists. The thumping stopped abruptly, and they could hear Adam gurgling.
Harlan cried out and tried clawing past Boles to get the carriage door open, but Boles spun and wind-milled the butt-end of his pistol across the old man’s forehead. Harlan dropped to the dirt with blood bubbling through his white hair.
Boles hurried to turn Harlan over and keep his blood from staining his clothing. “Can’t sell it later if there’s blood on it,” he said to Junior. “Remember that.”