He saw no lights now. They'd turned them off at the sound of his passing, or perhaps the underbrush was thicker in this direction. When he judged he was close he pulled to the shoulder and crunched along, leaning out to search the night.
There: a narrow, nearly overgrown dirt track leading off into the woods. He dimmed his own lights and pulled in, proceeding slowly. Bushes rustled under and around the body of the sports car.
He rounded a curve and saw it, a towering, boxy shape. Its lights were out but its reflectors glowed in response to his parking lights. This had to be it. He turned the key, and the engine stopped. The sudden silence seemed very loud and he could hear the cicadas very near, a low, ominous, pulsating buzz:
Au… brey. Au… brey.
He opened his door and stepped out. It was very dark. No sound or movement came from the direction of the truck and after waiting for almost a minute he eased the door shut and began walking forward, shoving through the brush the truck's sides had compressed. He came out in the open past it and looked around. Were they hiding? He murmured, "Vy—"
The word was choked off in his throat. Someone behind him, without a rustle or warning, had thrown an arm — a big arm — around his neck. He wrenched at it, feeling iron-hard muscles swelling under his hands. Then someone moved in the dark ahead of him.
"Who is it, Johnny?"
He relaxed. It was her voice. Somehow, he knew that she wouldn't let him be hurt.
"Don't know," the man behind him — Turner, he realized — grunted. "Can you see?"
She came closer and he saw her start back as she recognized him.
"Kill him?"
"Maybe. Let's find out why he's here first." He felt her hands move over his body; felt her unbutton the tunic, take out the fuze. "He's not armed… but here's something. Oh! It's that thing Leo was talking about — the part that makes it go off."
"Yeah? Give it here, girl."
"Let go of him a minute, Johnny, will you? We got to see if there's anybody came with him."
The arm let him go. He breathed, but didn't turn as he heard the big man crashing back through the brush. He stood facing her, and waited.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "You idiot. He'll go crazy again soon as he sees who you are. Might kill us both. I thought I seen the last of you!"
"On the boat. It was you who rescued me, wasn't it?"
"Yes, and I guess I made a mistake. What in God's name are you doin' out here, Major?"
"I had to apologize."
"You what?"
"I suspected you of betraying me. I was wrong; it was someone else. I had to tell you that I'm sorry."
"Major Cavalier… you're crazy. You're even crazier than Johnny," she said wonderingly. "You know that?"
"Yes. But that's not the only reason I came after you. Vyry… I know where you're going with this truck, and what the Railroad intends to do with what's in it. And I've come to warn you, and the Railroad, to stop."
"No way, man. Not after coming this far with it. Not after — " and she motioned to the ground a few feet off. He crouched and made out to his surprise the body of a white man. " — after he died doin' it."
"Who is it?" He touched the man's forehead. It was stone cold.
"Railroad man."
"Oh." He remembered Sharon Sue had mentioned another man; this must have been him. "He was… shot?"
"No. Had an accident while we was moving the shell. But I got to carry on with this, Major. For him — for Johnny — for all our people."
"I understand that," he said, almost humbly. "And I want you to know I haven't informed on you. I've not told the Army where you are or where you're going. I haven't reported in at all."
"Oh?" She moved closer to him, glancing apprehensively at the truck. "Why not? Isn't that your duty?"
"Maybe it is. But I've found out some things." He took a deep breath. "Remember Baylor? The Kuklos?"
"Yes."
"There are more like him. They've infiltrated the Army and the government. They knew about Shiloh, and they knew about you too, about the Railroad's plans to take the shell from us."
"Then why didn't they stop us?" she said skeptically.
"Because they want you to succeed."
He could feel her stare, and hurried on; he had to convince her before Turner came back. "Listen. The Kuklos League wants the Railroad to threaten Richmond — paralyze it — even destroy it. They wouldn't mind that; Richmond to them is an effete, upper-class government, and Dixie Socialism's a giveaway for the benefit of the darkies." She started to interrupt, but he plunged on. "They're poised for a coup. If it succeeds, they'll become the government. And their program," — he swallowed and tried to put conviction into his words — "is to kill all of you; every black, every CE, every white that doesn't agree with them; wipe the country clean of everybody who doesn't meet their standards of a 'true Southerner.' And they can do it, if you threaten the Government with this shell."
She was silent, and he wondered if he'd convinced her. "What about the Army?" she said at last.
"The man I… found this out from was in the Army, Vyry. I think Castle Thunder must be part of it, a military dictatorship along with the League. Vy… you know most of your people are disorganized and unarmed. It'll be a massacre."
"If it's true."
"It is; I swear. On my honor as — " he faltered; the old familiar formula had turned bitter on his tongue. "As—"
"As what, Major? As a traitor, like us?" She chuckled. "How about just as a gentleman."
"No," he said slowly. "Not as a gentleman. Because a gentleman could not love you as I do. As a man."
He waited for her answer, but instead there was a rustling behind them. She grabbed his arm and whispered, "He's comin' back. Get behind me now."
"Nobody else," came Turner's voice. "I looked up and down the road, too. Nothing but that little car. Where'd he go?"
"He's here by me," said Vyry. "Johnny, he come to warn us. Says we can't go to Richmond."
"I want to see the fuckah try to tell me that. Who is it? Come over here, man."
"Johnny, listen. He says the Kuklos know 'bout us takin' the shell. Says they're going to let us go to Richmond and make our demands, even set it off, then use that as an excuse to take over. And start killing our people."
"Bullshit. Who's saying all this?"
"Never mind who," she said, and Quidley marveled at the steadiness of her voice as she faced a man who could turn berserk at any moment. "But I think he's right. What do you think we should do? Maybe go on in to Belleville, tell this LeLand Ray and let him decide?"
Quidley heard grass rustle as Turner paced. "No," he grunted at last.
"Then what, Johnny?"
Again, the rustle of pacing. "You got the fuze now, right?"
"Yes, Johnny."
"Then we don't need this Ray."
"What do you mean, we don't need him?"
"We can drive into Richmond tonight. Right now. Plug that thing into the shell ourselves. Don't need him. Don't need anybody."
"Yes, but the negotiating—"
"Ain't no negotiating to be done," said Turner, his voice ice-cold. "No negotiatin', no talkin', no begging Whitey to give us poor loyal niggers our freedom. Just set it off. Just kill them all. That's the way it's going to be, girl."
"Johnny, that ain't right."
"Don't tell me what's right and what ain't. You know what you get when you argue with Johnny Turner." He lifted his fist, half the Railroad salute, half a threat.