Three hours later, not too long before sundown, he was thinking of climbing down when he heard a snuffling, snorting noise below and went very still. With deliberate slowness, he turned his head and looked down, just in time to see a very big Howler come shambling into the clearing beneath his tree.
Shaped somewhat like a human being, with legs and a head, this particular Howler (they were all a little bit different) had great snake-like things where the Kid had arms and a toothy mouth that looked like it was about three times as big as it should be. Slowly, bent to the ground, it shuffled forward as the Kid held his breath. If it smelled him, it was more than capable of climbing up the tree after him, and if it did, he would be trapped.
But apparently the Howler didn’t smell him; after a long moment of high tension, it gave a long, shuddering cry and then moved away, back the way it had come. The Kid let out a pent-up breath and relaxed a trifle, secure in the knowledge that if the thing knew where he was, it would be all over him.
Carefully, with great deliberation, he made his way back toward his cave, but then stopped short when, peering through some trees, he saw that the Howler was there. It had thrown all of his pelts out onto the ground, had obviously eaten up all of his remaining food, and now squatted before the cave mouth, swaying back and forth and worrying an old Ripper bone. Even from fifty yards away, he could smell its gamey, rotten hide.
Slowly, the Kid withdrew into the undergrowth and tried to think this through, but what could he do, other than wait? If the Howler didn’t go away on its own, if it decided to take over his home and possessions and eat his food, what could he do about it? Nothing, that was what, and he frowned and snarled to himself at the injustice.
He decided to wait; after all, he’d put a lot of time and energy into the cave and he wasn’t about to just abandon it, even if it was infested with a Howler. But the night came and went, the next day dawned cooler and drizzly, the rotten, stinking Howler showed no sign of leaving, and the Kid was getting very hungry. It was time to find somewhere else to live. Hanging his head, he shrugged disconsolately and then silently crept off into the woods.
Chapter Twenty-One
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Justin had had some misgivings about being confined with his companions, quarantine or not; for one thing, it was a loss of two or three days, time he could spend on the road, or at least talking to Baron Zero to plan their next move. Every day they wasted, every hour, every minute, Lampert moved that much closer to his demise.
For another thing, quarantine would probably mean boring, close confinement with at least a couple of people (Lampert, Bowler, maybe others) with whom he’d rather not be closely confined. Lastly, he was worried how Teresa, used to coming and going when and where she pleased, would react to what was essentially a prison.
One positive development was that it was obvious that things here were not entirely what Teresa had expected and that her plans, at least as far as selling him went, would have to undergo some rather drastic changes. Which was to say, it looked as if he’d been emancipated. But then, he’d have to wait and see.
As things turned out, he needn’t have worried about the forced confinement; the three days in quarantine were neither boring nor wholly unproductive, and they were treated with nothing but civility and generosity by Baron Zero and his people.
Their accommodations, in a sealed section of the basement, while compact and functional, were clean, cool, dry, and furnished with everything they needed. There was a common room, with beds, tables, chairs, desks, and shelves, another, smaller room for eating, with just a big long table with benches on either side, and, most welcome of all by far, a complete bathroom with real running water and modern plumbing. This last amazed Teresa to no end, clean water just pouring from a pipe anytime one wanted it, and she spent a delighted few minutes flushing the toilet and running the taps before being told—gently—that she was wasting water and should save it for washing and plumbing only.
“How that work?” she asked, eyes alight. “Hot water from a pipe like that? They gotta fire goin’ down there?”
“No, just a water heater,” said Justin. “Now if you don’t mind, we all want to take our turn at the shower.”
As he waited for his turn, childishly excited at the very prospect, one of Zero’s men appeared at the crude airlock that constituted the only way in or out. He was pushing a large rolling laundry bin and came to the entrance and waved for their attention. Justin walked over to the glass-pane door.
“Yes?” he asked. “Can we help you?”
“Want clothes?” said the man, a small Latino with a long mustache and yellowish eyes.
Justin scratched his head. “Close?” he said. “I don’t…”
“No, clothes,” said the man, shaking his head. To illustrate his point, he reached into the bin and held up an off-white, raw cotton shirt. “You know. Ropas. Shirt, pants, under-wears? Clothes, si?”
“Oh, clothes!” said Justin. “Why yes, as a matter of fact. We all could use some clean clothes! That’s very generous!”
“Zero’s orders,” shrugged the man, whose name he would later learn was Ramirez. “Now what you need?”
Finally Erin Swails finished up in the bathroom and it was his turn. Taking a clean new shirt and pants, plus a new pair of boxer briefs and a pair of socks, he went into the room, turned on the water, and positively luxuriated in the first real shower he’d had in almost two months. There was soap, a clean washcloth, plenty of hot water, and when he got out there was a toothbrush and toothpaste, clean white towels, and an old-fashioned disposable razor with shaving cream to complete the experience. Feeling better than he had in a very long time, he wiped up in the bathroom and went to join the others.
After the cannibals of St. Alferd’s, the first time food was brought to them, that morning by a lanky young lady named Sarah, they all eyed it with no small degree of suspicion; it just wasn’t safe to trust strangers when it came to these things. But the stuff looked OK, just bread and butter and cheese and fruit, not a morsel of meat, and finally hunger won out in an uneven struggle and, Justin leading the way, they all grabbed plates and set to devouring the food with a will born of weeks of a diet of pet food, soy paste and candy canes. When they were done, there wasn’t a crumb big enough to see.