Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)

Clearly unhappy, Tobias put the truck in gear and obeyed.

“What would you say are essential businesses?” Tolya asked. “The railway station, of course, for transportation and to send and receive food and merchandise. The gas station because vehicles would need fuel and servicing. The bank. What else?”

Jackson wasn’t sure if the question was for him or the human.

“People need a place to buy supplies,” Tobias said. “Hardware store is useful. And someplace that sells feed as well as ranch and farm supplies and equipment.”

“A place to eat and a place to sleep,” Jackson said. He thought of Hope. “Someplace you can buy books and music and pencils and paper for drawing.”

“A clothes store, unless the general store is going to carry basics along with shoes and books,” Tobias said.

Jackson thought, If the Tobias was a Wolf, he’d be panting and whining. <Why are you asking, Tolya?>

<I was asked to consider how many humans would need to be replaced to maintain the buildings and essential businesses.>

<Are the humans in Bennett going to be replaced?>

<I don’t know, but I don’t think this is an idle consideration.>

<Could the Intuits here take over those businesses?>

<Not easily. They have only the people they need for their own settlement. Besides, Intuits or not, they’re still human, so I don’t think it would be wise to ask it of them. Not at first.>

That sounded ominous. What had he walked into?

They circled the town square a second time, but no one had further suggestions beyond a barbershop or similar place.

Tobias breathed a sigh of relief when they drove away from the town. So did Jackson. Tolya didn’t seem concerned, but he could turn into smoke and outmaneuver almost any adversary.

They didn’t speak. If Simon wasn’t expecting him, if he didn’t want to talk to Meg Corbyn in person about the Hope pup, Jackson would have shifted to Wolf and headed home on his own four feet, despite the distance.

? ? ?

Daniel Black swore fiercely as the wind slammed against the pickup. The dust that covered the road and filled the air was as thick as a mean bitch of a blizzard.

“Mr. Black?”His foreman braced a hand against the dash. “We have to stop. We’re not going to make it to the crossroads in time.”

“We damn well will make it,” Black snarled, fighting to keep the truck on the road. Fighting to see any part of the road. “The longer that community receives supplies, the longer they’ll hang on, and until they’re gone, we won’t have a way into those hills and the riches they hold.”

The men riding in the pickup’s bed pounded on the back of the cab.

“They can’t breathe in this dust,” the foreman said. “We have to stop.”

“We’re not—” A wall of fence posts and barbed wire suddenly appeared in front of him. Black slammed on the breaks and yelled, “Fuck!” as the truck became tangled in the posts and wire.

He threw the truck into park, then slammed his fist against the dash, over and over.

The wind died. The dust settled. Black listened to the men in the back struggling to sit up, struggling to breathe.

Should have been as easy as the last time, he thought as he saw the dust of at least one vehicle driving down the road to Prairie Gold.

He tried to open his door and swore when he realized he was trapped by the barbed wire. So was his foreman. They would have to wait for the men in the back to pull away the wire.

While he waited, he watched the pickup that belonged to the Prairie Gold ranch hesitate at the crossroads, as if whoever was driving was thinking of stopping to help. Then it drove on when four of his men climbed down from the truck bed.

“I’ll get the men started on restringing that wire,” the foreman said.

Black didn’t reply.

“Any word yet about the attack?”

“We’re supposed to wait until the special equipment from Cel-Romano arrives. Once the designated HFL chapters have that equipment, we’ll be ready to make a coordinated attack.” Black didn’t like taking orders from anyone, especially some slick prissy-boy from Cel-Romano. Scratch’s plans had worked just fine at first, but they’d started to unravel when the scandal broke about that farming association selling grains and feed to Cel-Romano that ranches and towns here needed. Without the feed to help the cattle through the coming winter, would he be expected to sell his beef at a loss because he wouldn’t be able to feed the whole herd? No, this next strike would drive the fucking terra indigene so deep into the wild country no one would need to kowtow to them again.

“We’ll wait for the order to attack.” Black opened the door that his men had freed from the barbed wire and posts. “Let’s get to work on those fences.”

? ? ?

Joe Wolfgard stood at the doorway of Tolya’s motel room and watched Prairie Gold’s residents drive up and form a line of vehicles, waiting for the fuel truck to fill the storage tanks at the gas station across the street.

Nyx drifted toward him. “I heard some of the humans talking. The fuel truck driver will stop now so that the humans can fill their vehicles. Then he’ll continue filling the storage tanks.”

That made sense. After a hunt, Wolves would allow all the members of the pack to eat before caching some of the meat.

A Hawk glided in and landed on the roof of the motel. <Air and Earth played with some humans, making lots of dust and stopping the humans from meeting the big truck.>

He had seen the dust storm when he’d escorted the fuel truck to Prairie Gold. He’d wondered if the Elementals had been involved in preventing humans from stealing the fuel again or harming the driver. He’d never heard of them being involved in shifter concerns until the Elementals in the Lakeside Courtyard became interested in Meg Corbyn.

He was about to ask if the Hawk had seen Tobias and Tolya when the ranch pickup drove past and stopped in front of the general store.

<Jackson?> Joe called.

<Joe.> Jackson sounded relieved. Too relieved?

Joe hurried to Jesse Walker’s store, aware that Nyx had turned to smoke but stayed behind him instead of racing ahead to meet up with Tolya.

He glanced at the pickup. It looked dusty, but no more than usual. “You missed the storm?” he asked when Tobias stepped out of the truck.

“I think at least one vehicle got caught in it, but that dust storm didn’t reach the crossroads,” Tobias replied. “At least, not when we drove by.”

“That’s good.” He studied the human, whose voice sounded odd. “That’s not good?”

Tobias glanced toward Tolya and Jackson, who had gotten out on the other side, then leaned toward Joe. “Is that the way it usually works? I always thought . . . Storms. Lightning strikes and starts a fire. Blizzard sweeps in and you have to wait it out and hope your stock survives. But that’s the land; that’s weather. At least, we always thought it was.”

“Most of the time, it is,” Joe said. “But there are terra indigene who can guide weather, even shape it.” Or turn it into a weapon against an enemy. “When we sent the bison meat to Lakeside, Air and Blizzard made sure it arrived without spoiling. That was a good thing.”

“If we started doing something wrong, you’d tell us, wouldn’t you? Give us a chance to fix things before . . . Well, before weather became something more than weather?”

He smelled fear. “I would tell you.” He looked at Tolya and Jackson, who had joined them, and wondered where Nyx had gone. “Was the train late?”

“No, I wanted to take a look at the town,” Tolya said. “Get an idea of what sort of businesses are there.”

<More like getting an idea of what needed to be maintained if the humans went away,> Jackson told Joe.

<Are they going away?>

<Tolya doesn’t know. Maybe that’s a question for Simon . . . and Meg Corbyn.>