“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, trying to get the work done before his fingers turned numb in the cold. “You can do it.”
But he couldn’t.
Not for several minutes, nor for several more minutes after that.
Despite anxious glances back toward the cabin, Munver saw no sign of Garrett coming out to check on him. Figuring that the older man must still be warming his hands, just like he’d promised, Munver figured that he had a little more time to get the covers off the rear of the cart. His fingers were hurting with the cold now, and he wished he’d brought some gloves out, but he was in too much of a hurry to stop and change his approach. Snow was falling heavily now, and some had managed to melt and dribble down the back of Munver’s shirt. Finally, he managed to get one of the straps loose, and he quickly hurried around to the cart’s other side and got to work on the next. This was easier work, since he’d learned from his first attempt, and after another thirty seconds the covers came loose and the wind immediately whipped them up and blew them aside.
“What the—”
Startled, Munver stepped back as he saw the two frozen, naked human figures in the rear of the cart.
A man and a woman, they were, locked in a partial embrace. Their skin was icy and pale, with ice crystals glistening in their hair. The man was resting on his left side, turned to look at the woman who rested on her back. With a hand touching the woman’s hip, the man seemed almost to be in a caring, concerned pose, while the woman’s dead eyes were wide open and she was staring straight up toward the darkening evening sky. She seemed unaware of the man’s worries, as if she found the sky and the emerging stars infinitely more interesting.
After a moment, Munver stepped closer and craned his neck to get a better view of the woman’s face. The area around her upper chin looked to have been somehow scraped away, exposing not only her gums but even the roots of some of her teeth. This left her with a striking grimace that suggested she’d died in agony. There was a dark patch on her left cheek, perhaps blood, and now Munver noticed that her right eye was open wider than her left. For a moment Munver could only stare at the woman’s frozen face. His mouth opened slightly. He wanted to ask if she was okay, just in case somehow she was still conscious.
“Happy now?” Garrett asked.
Gasping, Munver stumbled back, tripped, fell, and then saw Garrett standing just a few feet away.
“I believe I said that I didn’t want to talk about it,” Garrett continued, grabbing the sheets and struggling against the wind to draw them back over the bodies. “I would have appreciated it, Mr. Munver, if you had respected my wishes.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Munver stammered, struggling up from the ground. “It just blew off.”
Garrett cast a glance at him, a glance that indicated deep skepticism, but then he busied himself with the task of getting the straps back into place. He was clearly annoyed, and Munver didn’t dare say anything.
“In case you’re wondering,” Garrett said finally, sternly, “no, I didn’t kill them. And no, I didn’t know them. And no, I didn’t steal their bodies. I have documentation signed by officials in Lordstown, confirming my purchase of these two unfortunate souls and my absolute right to transport them wherever I like. They’re mine. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, nor do I need to.” He pulled the first strap tight again. “If you have any further questions, Mr. Munver, I’d invite you to bend over and bellow them directly up your own ass.”
Munver could only stare with a growing sense of horror as Garrett continued to work on the covers. The tops of the two figures were now hidden, but Munver stared at the protruding lower halves. The man’s legs were turned to one side, while the woman’s were spread quite a way apart. As he looked at the woman’s feet, Munver noticed several deep scratches that appeared to have been inflicted before she froze. Finally, even the feet were covered, and Garrett muttered to himself as he put the last strap in place.
He grabbed a bottle from the rear of the cart, then he stepped back and took a deep breath as he watched to make sure that his work was finished.
For a couple of minutes, the two men stood in silence, staring at the sheets as they rippled in the ever-growing gale. In even that brief period of time, the sky seemed to darken noticeably, to the extent that it was now clear that night had begun to take its grip on the valley. Snow fell, rustling gently as it hit the ground. Wind rattled a few loose panels on the cabin’s roof.
“Well,” Garrett said finally, “I hope you’ll agree with me, Mr. Munver, that there’s nothing more to be said about any of this. Nothing at all.”
Turning, he began to trudge back through the snow, heading toward the cabin, leaving Munver still standing next to the cart and staring at the covers.
As the other man’s footsteps faded into the distance, Munver’s eyes widened slightly. Even though the bodies were now covered, he could still see them in his mind’s eye, and he couldn’t help thinking back to every detail that he could remember. He’d barely even heard Garrett’s non-explanation; instead he was frozen in place and his mind was rushing as he tried to understand what was happening. He’d expected to find something valuable on the back of the cart, something he could sell. He’d begun to dream of heading home and shoving his new-found wealth in Walter Graft’s stupid ugly face. The fantasy had been swift and rapid, but it had taken root deeply and now it was gone and Munver was left once again with nothing.
This made him a little angry.
Yet again, the world had denied him his due. How could a man be dragging a cart around, making all that effort, with nothing on the back except two corpses? Corpses weren’t worth anything, that was something Munver knew for certain, unless there were bounties on their heads. And he was pretty sure there were no bounties on these particular frozen heads. No, these were two worthless dead bodies. They were so worthless, in fact, that they couldn’t even be chopped up and sold to a butcher for use as food. The cart was probably worth more than the bodies, and even that was broken. Slowly, clenching his fists, Munver began to realize that he’d been screwed out of another opportunity.
And that arrogant, smug Mr. Garrett hadn’t seemed to care.
“Why do I never get a break?” Munver sneered, before turning and looking over at the cabin, and seeing the glow of the fire in the window. “You think you’re going to come here and take some of my heat, do you? Well think again.”
He paused for a moment, and finally his rage boiled over and he kicked the side of the cart as hard as he could. Then he let out a gasp as he felt ripple of pain in one of his toes.
Five
“This is all I can pay you for board tonight,” Garrett said as he set the bottle of whiskey down on a table in the cabin. “It’s not much, but it’s good stuff. I’ll split the bottle with you.”
Standing in the doorway, Munver stared at him for a moment. He still felt angry, of course, but he didn’t dare show that anger. What if he ended up in a fight? He’d never had much luck there, as his crooked nose and missing teeth attested. Far better, he supposed, to bide his time a little. Besides, he might be able to find out why this man was almost killing himself on a journey to transport two dead bodies. Was he insane, or was there more to it?