Bone Deep, page 5
part #2 of The Legend of Andrew Rufus Series
Joe rode up beside Andrew. His curly mustache was coated in ice, but he grinned widely and slapped Andrew on the back. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," he said cheerfully. "But Pecos thought you might. He said he didn't figure whatever had started was done yet."
Andrew wasn't sure what that meant, but he was glad Pecos had sort of expected him. "I've been trying to figure out how I got here in the first place, but all I know is it has something to do with the books," Andrew said. "It's obviously some type of magic. I can't believe I just said that out loud, with a straight face no less," he added with a cringe.
"You don't think magic is real?"
"Well, no. I mean, I didn't… but obviously it is, because how else would I be here? I don't think it was science. It's not like I stepped into a time machine or something."
Joe chuckled before asking, "So what is it about these books?"
"The books that brought me here or whatever were both written by some guy named G. A. Oldman." There's somethin' 'bout that name… I thought so too. I got shivers when I saw it again. But I can't put my finger on it.
"I suppose," Andrew added aloud, "the books could be some sorta time machine, but that seems weird." I don't think it's the books that're strange. Shut up.
Andrew patted Dewmint's shoulder. "I missed riding; I missed working with guns and knives, even the rope, if you can believe that!" Joe chuckled. "I missed your harmonica playing and Doyle's grumping and Charlie's knowing how to get everywhere." He breathed deeply, filling his lungs to the brim with brisk air. "It's nicer here. The air, the stars. And for some reason everything makes more sense." You talk too much, boy.
Andrew laughed. "Honestly, I'm sorry I took over Pecos's body again, but I like being here. I like…" he stopped himself from saying "being important". "Even if we are on a deadly dangerous mission to stop some cinder wolves." He frowned, trying to imagine just what a cinder wolf was.
"The west got into your blood, boy," Joe said cheerfully. "Just like it did me."
"Whadda you mean?"
Joe grinned. "Ever since I was a little thing, I wanted to be a cowboy. So one day, that's just what I did. I ran away and never looked back." Joe rode around a huge, snow-covered rock. "If the west infects you, there's nothing you can do about it."
"That's why you left? So you could be a cowboy? But you were rich!"
"That me was always aware of the time, and every minute was scheduled." Joe ran his hand over his mustache knocking out a chunk of ice. "Out here, I know what day it is: today. I know where I'm going: north. I may eat a lot of dry biscuits and sleep on the cold ground, but I'm free."
Andrew felt a sense of longing, knowing exactly what Joe meant, remembering how he'd felt caged. Even when they'd gone camping, he hadn't felt free like he did right this minute, even trapped inside Pecos's body. "Do you ever miss it?" he asked softly, thinking about his mom, feeling guilty for leaving her behind, for wanting to leave her behind, for missing her less than he felt like he should.
"Nope; some things you have to let go of if you want to hold onto something else."
Andrew wasn't sure he could let go of his mom entirely, but it wasn't like he wanted to stay here forever. He certainly didn't want to stay in Pecos's body forever. He shuddered at the thought. Besides, no matter what, he knew his mom would always be waiting.
Andrew's stomach growled. "Hey, we didn't eat breakfast. Why not?" 'Cause I said to get movin'. Are we gonna eat soon? You can't be that hungry. I'm not, but... I mean, I'd like some coffee. It's cold, and coffee's so hot. You know? You have a problem. I don't! Do.
"I still don't understand why we can't have a fire," Andrew grumbled out loud.
For once Joe looked very serious. "Not with cinder wolves running around."
Andrew shuddered, wishing someone would explain exactly what these cinder wolves were. He just didn't get it. They're wolves, Pecos said slowly in an annoyed tone. Made of fire. They come out of the fire, see, so you've gotta be careful with fire. Andrew frowned. Whadda you mean "come out"? I mean, if you got a fire, a cinder wolf can come out of it.
That sounds terrible! Septimis was horrible, but at least we knew where he was. He wasn't just going around popping out of fires when we least expected it. Nope. Andrew didn't find that comforting. He hadn't thought there could be anything bigger or worse to fight than Septimis. He'd never imagined coming back and having to fight something even more terrible.
When they stopped to switch horses, Andrew said firmly, "I'm not riding Widow Maker."
"No one asked you to, boy," Doyle snapped.
"I'm just saying. Can we have some coffee before we go? Just to warm us up? I'm so cold I can't even touch my toes." Andrew bent over to demonstrate. "See?" You look like a fool. No, you look like a fool. Boy...
"You're still a sissy," Doyle growled, digging a hole in the snow with his boot.
Charlie rounded up a pile of tinder, and Doyle started a very small fire. Joe and Charlie stood on opposite sides of the fire, facing it, hands on their guns. Watch the middle. What? Stand in the middle; if anythin' comes out of the fire, shoot it. Can you handle that, boy? I think I miss Septimis, Andrew thought, moving to stand by the fire.
He pulled aside his duster and slid his hand onto his gun, sighing happily. I missed your guns. Emphasis on "MY". I said "your", didn't I? The fire was so small it didn't give off much heat, and Andrew was so cold he wished he could stand on top of it. But in just a few minutes, Doyle had warmed up some biscuits and boiled the coffee. As soon as he was done, he kicked snow on the fire, putting it out.
Andrew took the cup of coffee Doyle handed him, closed his eyes, and breathed in the scent. "You made it super strong," he said happily. "Just the way I like it." He grinned and took a huge drink. "Whowee! That's strong!"
"I know you don't like that sissy coffee Charlie makes," Doyle said with a grunt.
"My coffee's a knife to the heart," Charlie said. "Your coffee's a punch to the face."
"Gets the job done," Doyle chuckled. Charlie grinned as he took a swig, and Andrew laughed. Even if Pecos wasn't super glad to have him, it was good to be back.
Andrew jumped when the snow swirled around him and the Grey Shaman stepped out of nothingness. He'd forgotten just how creepy it was when the shaman arrived. "You!" Andrew gasped.
What's your game? Pecos snarled.
"I keep explaining, but no one listens. I do not play games, Pecos," the Grey Shaman said with a weary tone. "I am merely intrigued by your visitor. He is different than others I have met from the futures."
Andrew's jaw dropped. "Others? There've been others? Pecos said I was the only one!"
"Don't sound so distressed," he said with a light chuckle. "You are the only one for Pecos."
What's that mean?
"How are you, Andrew?" the Grey Shaman asked, ignoring Pecos. He didn't sit, just stood, eyes watchful, grey cloak moving gently in the breeze. Andrew thought he looked like some sort of spirit, long grey hair pulled back, grey pants and cloak almost blending in with the snow.
"Are you really here?" Andrew asked, standing and stepping towards him. He paused, then slowly poked the shaman, but he was as solid as a man might be, not a vision or a ghost. "Huh. I kinda didn't think you were there."
The Grey Shaman grinned widely. "I do like you. Take care; too much of Doyle's coffee is bound to do something terrible to your insides."
He was gone before Doyle had even voiced his protest. "Ain't nothin' wrong with my coffee," he grumbled. "Best coffee in four territories and eighteen states. He should know; he's probably tried 'em all."
Andrew grinned widely as he listened to Doyle rant and rave. The Grey Shaman didn't make any sense to him, and Andrew was sure he knew more than he was saying about how Andrew got here. But the problem was he never stayed around long enough for Andrew to ask questions. And even when Andrew did ask questions, the Grey Shaman's answers were too damn cryptic to understand. Shamans.
"So what's our plan, guys?" Andrew asked when Doyle finally stopped ranting.
"Plan?" Doyle asked.
"Yeah, three cowboys, four if you ask Pecos, and me verses evil fire wolves."
"Cinder wolves," Charlie said.
"But fire wolves sounds better, and it's more clear. Nobody even knows what cinder means."
"It's a piece of burned wood that's still got fire in it," Joe explained.
"Yes, I get YOU know what it means. I mean nobody else."
"I knew that," Doyle growled.
"Oh fine, cinder wolves it is," Andrew said, rolling his eyes. "What's our plan?"
"Pecos has a plan," Charlie said.
Pecos, what's the plan? I'd rather not say. Oh crap. What's the plan? Really only one way to find 'em. And that is? Build a fire; wait for 'em to come. That's your plan?! Yep. You have gotta start coming up with better plans. Always work out. That's 'cause you're YOU! If you were normal, your plans would never work!
"Apparently, the plan is to use ourselves as bait," Andrew said.
Doyle nodded. "Makes sense."
"Course it does. Can we at least talk to some people who've seen them first?" That's part of the plan. That part comes first even. Fantastic, Andrew thought. "So we're looking for people who've seen the wolves. Are we close?"
Charlie nodded. "Headed to a town that was just attacked."
"Just attacked? As in right now?" Andrew wasn't ready yet. He'd just gotten here. He hadn't shot anything; he hadn't thrown a single knife. What if he'd forgotten how to do everything? And he still didn't understand what the damn cinder wolves were. Come out of the fire? That didn't even make sense.
"Went through maybe yesterday," Charlie replied.
Andrew felt a rush of relief. If they'd gone through a day ago, they probably weren't still there. You still that much of a sissy? I thought you'd manned up. I have, I mean… but I just wanna get used to everything again. You know? Oughta be ashamed of yourself… Pecos started on a rant, and Andrew sighed, trying to block him out.
He hadn't remembered how strange it was sharing a head with someone else. He also hadn't remembered how annoying it was when Pecos started on a rant and wouldn't shut up. Hey! Or how annoying it was that Pecos could hear everything he thought. You're welcome to leave anytime, Pecos snarled.
Andrew rolled his eyes and said, "Let's mount and ride!"
"Is he bossier?" Doyle asked Joe. "I remember him bein' a little, you know, sissier and quieter, don't you?" Joe just grinned and mounted his horse.
"I'm trying to be like Pecos," Andrew insisted. "Is it working?" I ain't bossy. I'm commandin'! Sure you are.
Andrew guided Dewmint up to Charlie's side, still finding it hard to believe he was here for real, riding a horse through the snow, hunting down deadly monsters made of fire. If he wasn't so sure it was real, he wouldn't believe it. You're makin' even less sense than you did before. I don't think you remember last time. I 'member enough.
Andrew rode beside Charlie without speaking for a while. Just like before, Charlie wasn't wearing a hat, and there was a light dusting of snow on his pitch black hair. Every now and then he tilted his head as if he were listening to something only he could hear.
"Where're we?" Andrew finally asked. "Are we a long way from where we were last time I was here?"
"You 'member where Grandfather Bear lives?"
"Yeah," Andrew said with a shudder. How could he forget?
"We're further north."
Andrew nodded, not really knowing where that was, but knowing better than to ask more. "We aren't riding very fast."
Charlie motioned towards the snow. "Ain't smart to gallop through snow unless you gotta. Horse can break a leg. So we go slower."
Andrew supposed that made sense, but he wanted to gallop. He wanted to feel the wind in his face. He wanted to run or something, anything. Pecos's strength hummed so much louder than his own did, and he could feel it strumming through his body. Waiting. Waiting for him to do something amazing.
Hey, guess what, Pecos? I can tap into the strength in my own body too. That's good, boy. Yeah, but I don't think it's just strength. I felt it heal my broken leg. Maybe we can learn to use it better or differently, more effectively, he added. Maybe, Pecos said doubtfully. That sounds like cowboy for "no". Maybe. Andrew shook his head.
"Hey Charlie, do you think I can practice knife throwing? I'd like to make sure I haven't lost anything in the last few months. I haven't been able to do anything at home."
Charlie nodded. "Knives is fine ridin', and when we camp, you can work on shootin' and ropin'. Maybe we can do a little hand to hand."
"Cool! Hey Doyle!"
"Yep?"
"Maybe you can teach me to fight like you said you would."
Doyle grinned. "It'd be my pleasure, boy."
Andrew gulped; he'd forgotten just how wolfish Doyle's grin could be. You asked for that. I have to learn sometime. Just hope he don't kill you, seein' how you're me and all. He wouldn't. Maybe… Andrew glanced at Doyle; he was staring straight ahead, face a mask of granite. Nah; he wouldn't. Pecos chuckled softly.
Andrew pulled one of Pecos's knives from his belt. Did you get a new knife? No. You didn't have this one before. Andrew turned it over in his hand. It had a slim antler handle with a straight blade, and fancy etching ran down the metal. Ain't mine; yours. Say what? You got me a knife? That's so cool! Thanks! So you did miss me! It's nothin', Pecos grumbled. Now you won't break mine, and we don't say thanks, damn it!
Andrew laughed. There were just some things about him Pecos was going to have to get used to. Saying thanks was one of them. Stretching was another. In fact he wished he'd remembered to stretch after breakfast. Still nothin' but a sissy. You should try it; you might like it. Maybe. I'll take that as a no, Andrew thought with a grin.
For a moment Andrew thought about his mom. Would this be the same as last time? No matter how long he was gone only a little time would have passed at home? He hoped she didn't notice he was missing or coma sleeping or whatever it was his body did when his mind wasn't there. He couldn't even imagine her reaction if she did. He shuddered thinking about it.
But he was here now, where he'd wanted to be, and he wasn't going to ruin it thinking about home. He felt the weight of the knife in his hands, then picked a tree, and aimed for the middle. He threw and missed. Crap. I totally missed. And here I thought you hit it. Shut up.
"Might take a bit for you to find the rhythm again," Charlie observed. "'Member what you said?"
"No."
"You said it was a lot like pitchin'."
"Oh, that's right. Well, I haven't exactly been pitching." Andrew dismounted to search for his knife. The snow was so deep it almost came up to his knees. He searched for several minutes before he found it, some ten feet from the tree he'd been aiming for. He wiped the snow off and placed it back in his belt.
Ain't you gonna keep workin'? I think I'll wait until we're in camp. My aim's a little off, and I don't wanna lose my knife in all this snow. How come you ain't been pitchin'? I haven't been playing baseball. Why not? Andrew wiggled uncomfortably in his saddle. Well, I've been reading so much and researching and Chuck and Ed didn't believe me and baseball just didn't seem important. I didn't wanna waste any time. So you've just been sittin' 'round readin'? I ride my bike, Andrew insisted. And run sometimes. But yes, mostly reading. Boy it's a wonder you could even get in the saddle. It's still your body… so, you know.
What 'bout Chuck and Ed? I told them everything, Andrew explained with a grimace. But they didn't believe a word of it. They thought I had a trippy medication dream. But I knew it was real, you know? I had the stuff Joe, Charlie, and Doyle had given me; and I knew, I absolutely knew it was real. And they didn't believe me. That'll happen.
And now Mom's sending me to a shrink because I've been acting so different, and everything's a mess. Shrink what? No, I mean like a head doctor. Ah. What you gonna do? I'm gonna go. I'm gonna tell him whatever it is he wants to hear, not the truth, but some kinda truth, you know, and I'm gonna pretend to be exactly who I was before all this happened. If that means playing baseball and hanging out with Chuck and Ed, that's exactly what I'll do.
Pecos was quiet for a minute. At least you got a plan. It's better than one of your plans. Maybe, Pecos chuckled. It's just as well anyway. How do you figure? All that book readin' you did, what'd you learn, really? Well… Andrew shrugged. Not anything truly helpful. I mean I learned a bit more about horses, but I couldn't put it into practice or anything, and I'm sure Charlie would know better than the books I read or the videos I watched. And he's for sure a better teacher.
And I wasn't sure what to believe from the history books because half of them contradicted the other half, and the ones that did agree… well some of those books gave me nightmares. The things they said happened. I can't even tell you, but if half of what they said is true, this is a dangerous, possibly horrible, place to be, and I can't imagine why the hell I wanted to come back.
You're welcome to leave. Andrew rolled his eyes. You know I can't. Worth a shot. Anyway, lots of bad things happen, not just here, but everywhere. It ain't perfect, but I imagine no place or time is. Maybe some just put a shine on it. Andrew wasn't sure about that; it'd have to be a pretty thick shine. But then he remembered all the school shootings and terrorist attacks and long, drawn-out wars, and he realized maybe Pecos had a point.
Anyway, the legends about you are supposed to be made-up, and they were pretty far from the truth of things, according to you, so really all I did was a lot of reading. And I don't even like reading. The best thing was finding Joe because it proved you're in the same time line and reality as me. But it didn't change nothin'. I know. That's what was so frustrating!
Somethin' powerful's at play here. You don't got the ability or will to make yourself come back. I know. And I don't belong here. Why would anyone even want me here? I just get in the way. You certainly don't need me. Maybe you need me. What? Why would I need you? I mean I'm not important. Just a thought. Anyway, the way I figure it you may as well operate as normal, and when whoever is ready for you to be here, you'll be here.
