Cardinal Numbers: Stories Read Online Free

claustrophobia.
    The search was called off at noon. Midnight stayed behind in the woods to drink cocaine syrup and curse the others. In the loghouse, Costain got out his maps.
    Buzz said: “What the hell are you so calm about?”
    Costain did not look up.
    Buzz said: “Let’s just torch the place and ride.”
    Wiley was stroking his pelt bundles. He said: “We made this. We worked it up and around and …”
    Costain told them both to shut up. His eyes narrowed. He said: “Three will take a week’s provisions and head out for the Beaverhead. The other one will find Juanito and quiet him.”
    Wiley said: “Can we go to the hot springs on the way?”
    The deck of cards came out and Wiley volunteered to sit for Midnight.
    Costain cut himself a red four. He said: “Low card wins. I’ll go.”
    They agreed to meet at the needle rocks on the first day of May and swore a pact of blood to die free. Buzz had tears in his eyes. Midnight had to be clubbed to stop his raving and then tied to his pinto. They took off just at dusk and followed a feeder creek up across the ridge. Further on they found a cave dug out of the red rock that would conceal their fire. They made camp and Buzz and Wiley lit into one another over who should’ve put coffee on the packhorse and hadn’t.
    Buzz said: “But for that greaser punk, we wouldn’t be asquat down in mud with fried biscuit for dinner.”
    Midnight said: “You gone soft?”
    They laid themselves down, but nobody slept. There was bat stink in the cave and a cold seep that had them all rucked up in their blankets.
    COSTAIN knew how to be careful. He wore a false mustache and ordered rye whiskey with a Spanish accent. The pianola was playing “Strawberry Blonde.” The mine drudgers had already shed their pay, so all the tables were empty except the one where Perreault could be seen. He had a cigar in his mouth and his finger up the girl child on his lap. Costain would have got him outside and hijacked his pockets but for the business at hand.
    He said to the barman: “Seen my cousin tonight? He berry thin witha long hair.”
    The answer came: “Yah, I seen ten guys like that and I didn’t ask nobody’s name.”
    This barman was a safecracker lammed from Cleveland first and then Denver. Talking the hour with Costain, he could boil it down and see they were comrades.
    He said: “Want help with this Mex pigeon a yers, then I could be the man.”
    Costain hadn’t dropped his guard for nothing. He could recognize an asset when it came up, and this one had a kind of city smarts that would fit.
    Costain said: “Meet me on the back street with a bottle.”
    THE drizzle lasted all morning. Wiley’s horse came up lame and had to be walked. They pulled up where aspens were in bud and scrounged for dry wood, but the fire was more steam than smoke. Midnight’s feet were swole up, so he couldn’t get his boots off.
    Buzz thumbed Costain’s hand-drafted map and said: “Settler’s cabin marked right two mile off. I say we go down and get proper fed. See what else might look good while we’re in the neighborhood.”
    Wiley said: “You go on. My gut burns fit to kill.”
    That knife went clean through wet leather. Midnight had it figured to the minute. He was going to walk the mountain on bloody feet till he found the Virgin Mary and got clean.
    Chicago said he knew about a Mex hideout in Bilby and why didn’t they go over there. The sun was going thump inside Costain’s hangover and all he could do was grunt. They rode four miles down the wagon-road ruts, but it was slow going in the mud and Chicago was impatient for a shortcut. Costain stopped to light a cigarillo.
    Chicago blew rain off his lips and whispered: “Thing of it is you told me all I need to know last night.”
    And then he brought up the Derringer and shot Costain through the eye. He stripped the body and hobbled the horse. He cut out for the Flathead camp with Costain’s ears tied to his belt and bouncing.
(here ends