Lord of Order Brett Riley (best books under 200 pages .TXT) 📖

believe her because she’s been straighter with me than my own superiors. Regular folks, he said.

I know you’d like proof, Stransky said. But all you’re gonna get is somebody’s word. Mine, whatever prisoner you talk to, or Royster’s. The sooner y’all figure out we’re in the same boat, the better chance we’ll have.

The scorched air hurt to breathe. Was this what drowning would feel like once the levees were gone? Would your body float? For how long? Would it bloat and rot? Would some river creature consume your dead flesh? Would it rip you apart or take you a bite at a time?

Hobbes’s hands shook. Calm down. Don’t show weakness.

Be in touch, he said.

Don’t take too long. From what I’m told, that wall’s growin fast.

Hobbes inhaled, held in the hot air, let it out. He hoped his face betrayed nothing, least of all the unmooring of his courage, however brief. The lamp burned the oil Ford’s workers had rendered from animal fat, the greasy, smoky flame spilling its dirty light into the room.

Stransky watched him from behind the curtain of her hair.

Somethin else on your mind? he said.

She put a hand on his knee. You took a bullet gettin me out, and you’re a damn sight handsomer than most of the lapdogs I met. Maybe you and me can have some fun some time.

Her touch sent a chill up his spine. His engorged pecker pressed against his trousers. Hobbes took her hand in his good one and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again and pushed her away.

You’re talkin fornication. You look a load better with clean clothes and that rat nest off the top of your head, but I took vows. Aim to keep em.

Stransky laughed. Vows. Like one of Sarah’s priests. You ever wonder why they made you do it? What harm havin a family would have done you?

Ain’t got time to ponder it.

He stood and put his hat back on. Her laughter floated down the aisle behind him as he left.

Next time, sexy, she called.

He poked his head out the door and saw nothing, so he jogged across the thoroughfare and into the shadows beyond the streetlights.

As he reached the alley, a voice drifted out of the darkness. So how’d it go?

He whipped around and drew. Come on out. Slow.

A short, misshapen shadow ambled toward him, breaking into two as it got closer, and Hobbes uncocked and holstered his gun. McClure and Bandit, silent as death. The girl must have clipped the dog’s nails.

Willa, said Hobbes. Almost blew your head off.

The child’s voice suggested a smile. You was aimin too high. You might have knocked off my hat, though.

What’s your purpose?

Just wondered if you had any news.

A bit. Hobbes wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his shirtsleeve. He told McClure what Stransky had said.

When he finished, the girl said, It sounds like somethin the Crusade would do. Efficient and cold, just like Royster. Just like Rook.

She’s never loved the Crusade.

Confirm it if you can. Gotta get home before somebody figures out I ain’t in bed.

That’s why it helps not to have a house.

She melted into the darkness, the dog on her heel. Hobbes headed home.

16

A day later in Troy’s den, the lord of order and Hobbes rested their feet on the coffee table and held glasses of tepid water while McClure reported. She had slipped across the river and had spoken to a dozen prisoners. Two had been openly hostile to the Crusade. The rest were bewildered, depressed, and despairing, but they expressed none of the naked disloyalty or heresy that generally marked a Troubler.

You’re convinced they was tellin the truth? Troy asked.

McClure shrugged. One man told me if I was born from a Crusader, I could go fuck myself and die. Another said he’d just as soon set a Bible on fire as bow before Matthew Rook. The rest of em all sounded alike. Why am I here? I ain’t done nothin. Mr. Rook must have made a mistake.

Troy looked at Hobbes, who seemed ready to spit. Good. He’s been distracted all day. I better find out what’s eatin him. We thank you, Troy said. You’re one of the best we got, even if you ain’t grown yet.

McClure settled into the chair. You got anything else for me? I got nothin better to do.

Can you sniff out the ordnance Royster’s confiscated? You ain’t gotta try to get it back. Just bring us a list of what’s where.

Hell, Gabe, I thought you might have wanted somethin hard. I can tell you right now they’ve roped bundles of dynamite to all the river bridges’ piers and abutments.

Troy passed a hand over his eyes. We was afraid of that. Get back to us with the rest as soon as you can.

McClure stood. The men followed suit and shook hands with the girl. She tipped her hat. Then she turned and went out, clucking her tongue. Bandit had been asleep in the sunlight filtering through a window. Now he woke, scrambled to his feet, and trotted across the room after McClure, glancing at Troy and Hobbes as if to say, See you later.

The men took their seats after the door closed. Troy sipped water. Hobbes put his glass on the coffee table and rubbed his temples. The heat was beginning to radiate through the house. Soon Troy would have to open the windows or cook like a pig in a roasting pit.

Okay, he said. You been somewhere else half the mornin. What’s up?

Hobbes grimaced. Been thinkin about Stransky. That meetin with her—it kindly shook me up.

Troy frowned. Shook you up how? You don’t scare easy.

Never feared anybody walkin the earth. Not even you. Reckon I can fear this woman, though.

She can’t outdraw you.

Ain’t that kind of scared. She touched me last night. Propositioned me. All clean and soft lookin. I wanted her. God forgive me. Wanted to take her right there in that church.

Troy felt as if someone