Bones Omnibus Read Online Free Page B

police harness on Bones.
    “Is that real? Or did your owner have some kind of odd sense of humor?”
    When Bones didn’t answer, Henry shrugged and tossed the shepherd a few more pieces of meat. He then retrieved a tube of antiseptic cream from his backpack and rubbed a little on Bitch’s torn ear. At first, she didn’t like this at all. A couple of seconds later, however, she let him minister to the wound in silence.
    “When I got divorced, I thought I’d had it,” Henry explained as he worked. “I was unemployed, half the reason I found myself short a wife, and had no future to speak of. I was an addict then, but being on the streets has a way of making you clean up or spiral straight down. The day I finally woke up without the craving, I realized that was where God wanted me to be. It’s no easy life, but occasionally I’ll take the odd job, recharge for a couple of days in a motel, then head back out. Maybe I’ll be ready to go back to the old ways one of these days. Right now, though, this is how I see my life.”
    Bones and Bitch kept eating, so Henry kept talking. He told them that he didn’t plan to hop his next train until the sun went down but was concerned for anything heading east. There was meant to be some big summer storm gathering in that direction. He considered Fort Wayne, as people there treated guys on the road “less like hobos and more like a neighbors,” but he was also thinking about going south toward Louisiana. He was born in Lafayette but had most recently lived in Tyler, Texas, This was where his wife, well, ex-wife, continued to reside.
    “There are no stops in Tyler, but I’ve been on a line that runs from Memphis to Dallas that passes near Tyler. If the door’s open and facing the right direction, I always look for my house or her car at a crossing, but I’ve seen neither. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw her. Probably just smile.”
    When night fell, Henry led the dogs back into the train yard.
    “Here’s the faucet if you’re looking for water,” he said, turning it on.
    The appreciative dogs drank long and hard, Bitch needing to pee immediately afterward. But then they followed Henry toward the trains powering up for overnight travel.
    “This one’s on to Syracuse, this one’s off to Philly, this one’s on to New York,” Henry said, indicating the different lines. “Can’t tell you where this one’s going, but maybe Wilmington? Hard to know.”
    Bones caught the scent of several other riders emerging from the surrounding hobo jungles on their way to the trains. Some eyed the trio curiously, but most kept to themselves. At first, Bitch didn’t seem to notice the smells. But then the little Yorkie stopped short alongside an open freight car. Bones poked his nose up at the car, but Henry quickly pulled him back.
    “Not your best idea, police dog,” he cautioned. “See this chalk?” He pointed at a symbol marked alongside the door. “This car belongs to the BCRA, one of those gangland crews that uses trains to get around the country. They’ll rob a place in Miami and be in Chicago by the next night, move drugs into Baltimore, then be in Kansas City before it even hits the streets. Hell, they’ve done hits that way. They catch anyone riding in their cars, they get stomped, beheaded, and thrown out. A couple of dogs? They’ll probably eat you.”
    But both animals had alerted to a greasy smudge on the edge of the door. Henry eyed this before shying away.
    “What did I tell you?
Blood
. Last thing you want to do is get in that car.”
    But even as Henry said this, the Yorkshire terrier was leaping inside. Bitch raced from one end of the car to the other, sniffing every inch. Having clearly rediscovered the trail she had picked up outside the Bait-N-Booze, Bones jumped in as well.
    “Well, you guys seem bound and determined,” Henry declared. “I will thank you for your company in passing the afternoon with me and wish you good luck out there.”
    Bones