Chapter 7 VI

YOUNG PEOPLE ANYMORE they seem to have a hard time growin up. I dont know why. Maybe its just that you dont grow up any faster than what you have to. I had a cousin was a deputized peace officer when he was eighteen. married and had a kid at the time. I had a friend that I grew up with was a ordained Baptist preacher at the same age. Pastor of a little old country church. He left there to go to Lubbock after about three years and when he told em he was leavin they just set there in that church and blubbered. Men and women alike. Hed married em and baptized em and buried em. He was twenty-one years old, maybe twenty-two. When he preached theyd be standin out in the yard listenin. It surprised me. He was always quiet in school. one of the oldest in our class at boot camp. Six months later I was in France shootin people with a rifle. I didnt even think it was all that peculiar at the time. Four years later I was sheriff of this county. but what I was supposed to be neither. People anymore you talk about right and wrong theyre liable to smile at you. But I never had a lot of doubts about things like that. In my thoughts about things like that. .

Loretta told me that she had heard on the radio about some percentage of the children in this country bein raised by their grandparents. I forget what it was. Pretty high, I thought. Parents wouldn't raise em. was that when the next generation come along and they dont want to raise their children neither then who is goin to do it? Their own parents will be the only grandparents around and they wouldnt even raise them. my better days I think that there is somethin I dont know or there is somethin that Im leavin out. But them times are seldom. I wake up sometimes way in the night and I know as certain as death that there aint nothin short of the second comin of Christ that can slow this train.

I dont know what is the use of me layin awake over it. But I do. I dont believe you could do this job without a wife. A pretty unusual wife at that. Cook and jailer and I dont know what all. Them boys dont know how good theyve got it. Well, maybe they do. They get fresh garden stuff a good part of the year. Good cornbread. Soupbeans. Shes been known to fix em hamburgers and french fries. Weve had em to come back even years later and theyd be married and do good. wives. Bring their kids even. They didnt come back to see me. Ive seen em to introduce their wives or their sweethearts and then just go to bawlin. Grown men. That had done some pretty bad things. She always did. So we go over budget on the jail ever month but what are you goin to do about that?

You aint goin to do nothin about it. Thats what youre goin to do. CHIGURH PULLED OFF of the highway at the junction of 131 and opened the telephone directory in his lap and folded over the bloodstained pages till he got to veterinarian. There was a clinic outside Bracketville about thirty minutes away. He looked at the towel around his leg . It was soaked through with blood and blood had soaked into the seat. He threw the directory in the floor and sat with his hands at the top of the steering wheel. He sat there for about three minutes. Then he put the vehicle in gear. and pulled out onto the highway again.

He drove to the crossroads at La Pryor and took the road north to Uvalde. His leg was throbbing like a pump. On the highway outside of Uvalde he pulled up in front of the Cooperative and undid the sashcord from around his leg and pulled away the towel. Then he got out and hobbled in. He bought a sack full of veterinary supplies. Cotton and tape and gauge. A bulb syringe and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. A pair of forceps. Scissors. Some packets of four inch swabs and a quart bottle of Betadine. He paid and went out and got in the Ramcharger and started the engine and then sat watching the building in the rearview mirror. As if he might be thinking of something else he needed, but that wasn't it. He put his fingers inside the cuff of his shirt and carefully blotting the sweat from his eyes. Then he put the vehicle in gear and backed out of the parking space and pulled out onto the highway headed toward town.

He drove down Main Street and turned north on Getty and east again on Nopal where he parked and shut off the engine. His leg was still bleeding. He got the scissors from the bag and the tape and he cut a three inch round disc out of the cardboard box that held the cotton. He put that together with the tape into his shirtpocket. He took a coathanger from the floor behind the seat and twisted the ends off and straightened it out. Then he leaned and opened his bag and took out a shirt and cut off one sleeve with the scissors and folded it and put it in his pocket and put the scissors back in the paper bag from the Cooperative and opened the door and eased himself down, lifting his injured leg out with both hands under his knee . He stood there, holding on to the door.

Then he bent over with his head to his chest and stood that way for the better part of a minute. Then he raised up and shut the door and started down the street. Outside the drugstore on Main he stopped and turned and leaned against a car parked there. He checked the street. No one coming. He unscrewed the gascap at his elbow and hooked the shirtsleeve over the coathanger and ran it down into the tank and drew it out again. He taped the cardboard over the open gastank and balled the sleeve wet with gasoline over the top of it and taped it down and lit it and turned and limped into the drugstore. He was little more than halfway down the aisle toward the pharmacy when the car outside exploded into flame taking out most of the glass in front of the store.

He let himself in through the little gate and went down the pharmacists aisles. He found a packet of syringes and a bottle of Hydrocodone tablets and he came back up the aisle looking for penicillin. He couldn't find it but he found tetracycline and sulfa. stuffed these things in his pocket and came out from behind the counter in the orange glow of the fire and went down the aisle and picked up a pair of aluminum crutches and pushed open the rear door and went hobbling out across the gravel parking lot behind the store. The alarm at the rear door went off but no one paid any attention and Chigurh never had even glanced toward the front of the store which was now in flames.

He pulled into a motel outside of Hondo and got a room at the end of the building and walked in and set his bag on the bed. He shoved the pistol under the pillow and went in the bathroom with the bag from the Cooperative and dumped the contents out into the sink. He emptied his pockets and laid out everything on the counter-keys, billfold, the vials of antibiotic and the syringes. He sat on the edge of the tub and pulled off his boots and reached down and put the plug in the tub and turned on the tap. Then he undressed and eased himself into the tub while it filled. His leg was black and blue and swollen badly. It looked like a snakebite. He laved water over the wounds with a washcloth. He turned his leg in the water and studied the exit wound. Small pieces of cloth stuck to the tissue. was big enough to put your thumb in.

When he climbed out of the tub the water was a pale pink and the holes in his leg were still leaking a pale blood dilute with serum. He dropped his boots in the water and patted himself dry with the towel and sat on the toilet and took the bottle of Betadine and the packet of swabs from the sink. He tore open the packet with his teeth and unscrewed the bottle and tipped it slowly over the wounds. Then he set the bottle down and bent to work, picking out the bits of cloth , using the swabs and the forceps. He sat with the water running in the sink and rested. He held the tip of the forceps under the faucet and shook away the water and bent to his work again.

When he was done he disinfected the wound a final time and tore open packets of four by fours and laid them over the holes in his leg and bound them with gauze off of a roll packaged for sheep and goats. Then he rose and filled the plastic tumbler on the sink counter with water and drank it. He filled it and drank twice more. Then he went back into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed with his leg propped on the pillows. Other than a light beading of sweat on his forehead there was little evidence that his labors had cost him anything at all. When he went back into the bathroom he stripped one of the syringes out of the plastic wrapper and sank the needle through the seal into the vial of tetracycline and drew the glass barrel full and held it to the light and pressed the plunger with his thumb until A small bead appeared at the tip of the needle. Then he snapped the syringe twice with his finger and bent and slid the needle into the quadriceps of his right leg and slowly depressed the plunger. He stayed in the motel for five days. Hobbling down to the cafe on the crutches for his meals and back again. He kept the television on and he sat up in the bed watching it and he never changed channels. He watched whatever came on. He watched soap operas and the news and talk shows. He changed the dressing twice a day and cleaned the wounds with epsom salt solution and took the antibiotics. When the maid came the first morning he went to the door and told her he did not need any service. Just towels and soap. He gave her ten dollars and she took the money and stood there uncertainly. He told her the same thing in Spanish and she nodded and put the money in her apron and pushed her cart back up the walkway and he stood there and studied the cars in the parking lot and then shut the door. On the fifth night while he was sitting in the cafe two deputies from the Valdez County Sheriffs Office came in and sat down and removed their hats and put them in the empty chairs at either side and took the menus from the chrome holder and opened them. One of them looked at him. Chigurh watched it all without turning or looking. Then the other one looked at him. Then the waitress came. He finished his coffee and rose and left the money on the table and walked out. Hed left the crutches in the room and he walked slowly and evenly along the walkway past the cafe window trying not to limp. He walked past his room to the end of the ramada and turned. He looked at the Ramcharger parked at the end of the lot. It could not be seen from the office or from the restaurant. room and put his shavingkit and the pistol in his bag and walked out across the parking lot and got into the Ramcharger and started it and drove over the concrete divider into the parking lot of the electronics shop next door and out onto the highway. Wells stood on the bridge with the wind off the river tousling his thin and sandy hair. He turned and leaned against the fence and raised the small cheap camera he carried and took a picture of nothing in particular and lowered the camera again. He was standing where Moss had stood four nights ago. He studied the blood on the walk. Where it trailed off to nothing he stopped and stood with his arms folded and his chin in his hand. He didnt bother to take a picture. There was no one watching. He looked out downriver at the slow green water. He walked a dozen steps and came back. He stepped into the roadway and crossed to the other side. light tremor in the superstructure. He went on along the walkway and then he stopped. Faint outline of a bootprint in blood. Fainter of another. He studied the chain-link fence to see if there might be blood on the wire. handkerchief from his pocket and wet it with his tongue and passed it among the diamonds. He stood looking down at the river. A road down there along the American side. Between the road and the river a thick stand of carrizo cane. The cane lashed softly in the wind off the river. If hed carried the money into Mexico it was gone. But he hadnt. Wells stood back and looked at the bootprints again. Some Mexicans were coming along the bridge with their baskets and dayparcels. He took out his camera and snapped a picture of the sky, the river, the world. Bell sat at the desk signing checks and totting up figures on a hand calculator. When he was done he leaned back in his chair and looked out the window at the bleak courthouse lawn. Molly, he said. She came and stood in the door. Did you find anything on any of those vehicles yet? Sheriff I found out everything there was to find. Those vehicles are titled and registered to deceased people. The owner of that Blazer died twenty years ago. Did you want me to see what I could find out about the mexican ones? No. Lord no. Heres your checks. She came in and took the big leatherette checkbook off his desk and put it under her arm. That DEA agent called again. You dont want to talk to him? Im goin to try and keep from it as much as I can. He said hes goin back out there and he wanted to know if you wanted to go with him. Well thats cordial of him. I guess he can go wherever he wants. Hes a certified agent of the United States Government. He wanted to know what you were goin to do with the vehicles. Yeah. Ive got to try and sell them things at auction. More county money down the toilet. One of em has got a hot engine in it. We might be able to get a few dollars for that. No word from Mrs Moss? No sir. All right. He looked at the clock on the outer office wall. I wonder if I could get you to call Loretta and tell her Ive gone to Eagle Pass and Ill call her from down there. Id call her but shell want me to come home and I just might. You want me to wait till you've quit the buildin? Yes I do. He pushed the chair back and rose and got down his gun-belt from the coatrack behind his desk and hung it over his shoulder and picked up his hat and put it on. What is it that Torbert says? About truth and justice? We dedicate ourselves a new daily. Somethin like that. I think Im goin to commence dedicatin myself twice daily. It may come to three fore its over. Ill see you in the mornin. He stopped at the cafe and got a coffee to go and walked out to the cruiser as the flatbed was coming up the street. Powdered over with the gray desert dust. He stopped and watched it and then got in the cruiser and wheeled around and drove past the truck and pulled it over. When he got out and walked back the driver was sitting at the wheel chewing gum and watching him with a sort of goodnatured arrogance. Bell put one hand on the cab and looked in at the driver. The driver nodded. Sheriff, he said. Have you looked at your load lately? The driver looked in the mirror. Whats the problem, Sheriff? Bell stepped back from the truck. Step out here, he said. The man opened the door and got out. Bell nodded toward the bed of the truck. Thats a damned outrage, he said. The man walked back and took a look. One of the tiedowns is worked loose, he said. He got hold of the loose corner of the tarp and pulled it back up along the bed of the truck over the bodies lying there, each wrapped in blue reinforced plastic sheeting and bound with tape. There were eight of them and they looked like just that 。 Dead bodies wrapped and taped. How many did you leave with? Bell said. I aint lost none of em, Sheriff. Couldn't you all of took a van out there? We didnt have no van with four wheel drive. He tied down the corner of the tarp and stood. All right, Bell said. You aint goin to write me up for improperly secured load? You get your ass out of here. He reached the Devils River Bridge at sundown and half way across he pulled the cruiser to a halt and turned on the rooflights and got out and shut the door and walked around in front of the vehicle and stood leaning on the aluminum pipe that served for the top guardrail. Watching the sun set into the blue reservoir beyond the railroad bridge to the west. A westbound semi coming around the long curve of the span downshifted when the lights came into view. The driver leaned from the window as he passed. Dont jump , Sheriff. She aint worth it. Then he was gone in a long suck of wind, the diesel engine winding up and the driver double clutching and shifting gears. Bell smiled. Truth of the matter is, he said, she is. Some two miles past the junction of 481 and 57 the box sitting in the passenger seat gave off a single bleep and went silent again. Chigurh pulled onto the shoulder and stopped. He picked up the box and turned it and turned it back. He adjusted the knobs. Nothing. He pulled out onto the highway again. The sun pooled in the low blue hills before him. Bleeding slowly away. A cool and shadowed twilight falling over the desert. He took off his sunglasses and put them in the glovebox and closed the glovebox door and turned on the headlights. As he did so the box began to beep with a slow measured time. He parked behind the hotel and got out and came limping around the truck with the box and the shotgun and the pistol all in a zipper bag and crossed the parking lot and climbed the hotel steps. He registered and got the key and hobbled up the steps and down the hall to his room and went in and locked the door and lay on the bed with the shotgun across his chest staring at the ceiling. He could think of no reason for the transponder sending unit to be in the hotel. He ruled out Moss because he thought Moss was almost certainly dead. That left the police. Or some agent of the Matacumbe Petroleum Group. Who must think that he thought that they thought that he thought they were very dumb. He thought about that. When he woke it was ten-thirty at night and he lay there in the half dark and the quiet but he knew what the answer was. He got up and put the shotgun behind the pillows and stuck the pistol into the waistband of his trousers. Then he went out and limped down the stairs to the desk. The clerk was sitting reading a magazine and when he saw Chigurh he stuck the magazine under the desk and rose. Yessir, he said. Id like to see the registration. Are you a police officer? No. Im not. Im afraid I cant do that sir. Yes you can. When he came back up he stopped and stood listening in the hallway outside his door. He went in and got the shotgun and the receiver and then walked down to the room with the tape across it and held the box to the door and turned it on. He went down to the second door and tried the reception there. Then he came back to the first room and opened the door with the key from the desk and stepped back and stood against the hallway wall. He could hear traffic in the street beyond the parking lot but still he thought the window was closed. There was no air moving. He looked quickly into the room. Bed pulled away from the wall. Bathroom door open. shotgun. He stepped across the doorway to the other side. There was no one in the room. He scanned the room with the box and found the sending unit in the drawer of the bedside table. He sat on the bed turning it in his hand. Small lozenge of burned metal the size of a domino. He looked out the window at the parking lot. His leg hurt. He put the piece of metal in his pocket and turned off the receiver and rose and left, pulling the door shut behind him. Inside the room the phone rang. that for a minute. Then he set the transponder on the windowsill in the hallway and turned and went back down to the lobby. And there he waited for Wells. No one would do that. He sat in a leather armchair pushed back into the corner where he could see both the front door and the hallway to the rear. Wells came in at eleven-thirteen and Chigurh rose and followed him up the stairs, the shotgun wrapped loosely in the newspaper hed been reading. Halfway up the stairs Wells turned and looked back and Chigurh let the paper fall and raised the shotgun to his waist. Hello, Carson, he said. They sat in Wells room, Wells on the bed and Chigurh in the chair by the window. You dont have to do this, Wells said. Im a daytrader. You could. Id make it worth your while. Take you to an ATM. Everybody just walks away. Theres about fourteen grand in it. Good payday. I think so. Chigurh looked out the window, the shotgun across his knee. Getting hurt changed me, he said. Changed my perspective. Ive moved on, in a way. Some things have fallen into place that were not there before. they werent. The best way I can put it is that Ive sort of caught up with myself. Thats not a bad thing. It was overdue. Its still a good payday. It is. Its just in the wrong currency. Wells eyed the distance between them. Senseless. Maybe twenty years ago. Probably not even then. Do what you have to do, he said. Chigurh sat slouched casually in the chair, his chin resting against his knuckles. Watching Wells. Watching his last thoughts. Hed seen it all before. So had Wells. It started before that, he said. I didnt realize it at the time. When I went down on the border I stopped in a cafe in this town and there were some men in there drinking beer and one of them kept looking back at me. I didnt pay any attention to him. I ordered my dinner and ate. But when I walked up to the counter to pay the check I had to go past them and they were all grinning and he said something that was hard to ignore. know what I did? Yeah. I know what you did. I ignored him. I paid my bill and I had started to push through the door when he said the same thing again. I turned and looked at him. I was just standing there picking my teeth with a toothpick and I gave him a little gesture with my head. For him to come outside. If he would like to. And then I went out. And I waited in the parking lot. And he and his friends came out and I killed him in the parking lot and then I got into my car. They didnt know what had happened. They didnt know that he was dead. One of them said that I had put a sleeper hold on him and then the others all said that. They were trying to get him to sit up. They were slapping him and trying to get him to sit up. An hour later I was pulled over by a sheriffs deputy outside of Sonora Texas and I let him take me into town in handcuffs. Im not sure why I did this but I think I wanted to see if I could extricate myself by an act of will. Because I believe that one can. That such a thing is possible. But it was a foolish thing to do. A vain thing to do. Do you understand? Do I understand? Yes. Do you have any notion of how goddamned crazy you are? The nature of this conversation? The nature of you. Chigurh leaned back. He studied Wells. Tell me something, he said. What. If the rule you followed led you to this of what use was the rule? I dont know what youre talking about. Im talking about your life. In which now everything can be seen at once. Im not interested in your bullshit, Anton. I thought you might want to explain yourself. I don't have to explain myself to you. Not to me. To yourself. I thought you might have something to say. You go to hell. You surprise me, thats all. I expected something different. It calls past events into question. Don't you think so? You think Id trade places with you? Yes. I do. Im here and you are there. In a few minutes I will still be here. Wells looked out the darkened window. I know where the satchel is, he said. If you knew where the satchel was you would have it. I was going to have to wait until there was no one around. Till night. Two in the morning. Something like that. You know where the satchel is. Yes. I know something better. Whats that. I know where its going to be. And where is that. It will be brought to me and placed at my feet. Wells wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It wouldn't cost you anything. Its twenty minutes from here. You know thats not going to happen. Dont you? Wells didnt answer. Don't you? You go to hell. You think you can put it off with your eyes. What do you mean? You think that as long as you keep looking at me you can put it off. I dont think that. Yes you do. You should admit your situation. There would be more dignity in it. Im trying to help you. You son of a bitch. You think you won't close your eyes. But you will. Wells didnt answer. Chigurh watched him. I know what else you think, he said. You dont know what I think. You think Im like you. That its just greed. But Im not like you. I live a simple life. Just do it. You wouldn't understand. A man like you. Just do it. Yes, Chigurh said. They always say that. But they dont mean it, do they? You piece of shit. Its not good, Carson. You need to compose yourself. If you dont respect me what must you think of yourself? Look at where you are. You think you're outside of everything, Wells said. But you're not. Not everything. No. Youre not outside of death. It doesn't mean to me what it does to you. You think Im afraid to die? Yes. Just do it. Do it and goddamn you. Its not the same, Chigurh said. You've been giving up things for years to get here. I dont think I even understood that. How does a man decide in what order to abandon his life? Were in the same line of work. Up to a point. Did you hold me in such contempt? Why would you do that? How did you let yourself get in this situation? Wells looked out at the street. What time is it? he said. Chigurh raised his wrist and looked at his watch. Eleven fifty-seven he said. Wells nodded. By the old womans calendar Ive got three more minutes. Well the hell with it. I think I saw all this coming a long time ago. Almost like a dream. Deja vu. opinions, he said. Just do it. You goddamned psychopath. Do it and goddamn you to hell. He did close his eyes. He closed his eyes and he turned his head and he raised one hand to fend away what could not be fended away. Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mothers face, his First Communion, women he had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country. He lay half headless on the bed with his arms outflung, most of his right hand missing. Chigurh rose and picked up the empty casing off the rug and blew into it and put it in his pocket and looked at his watch. The new day was still a minute away. He went down the back stairs and crossed the parking lot to Wells car and sorted out the doorkey from the ring of keys Wells carried and opened the door and checked the car inside front and rear and under the seats. It was a rental car and there was nothing in it but the rental contract in the doorpocket. He shut the door and hobbled back and opened the trunk. Nothing. He went around to the driver side and opened the door and popped the hood and walked up front and raised the hood and looked in the engine compartment and then closed the hood and stood looking at the hotel. While he was standing there Wells phone rang. He fished the phone from his pocket and pushed the button and put it to his ear. Moss made his way down the ward and back again holding on to the nurses arm. She said encouraging things to him in Spanish. They turned at the end of the bay and started back. The sweat stood on his forehead. Andale, she said. Que bueno. He nodded. Damn right bueno, he said. Late in the night he woke from a troubling dream and struggled down the hallway and asked to use the telephone. He dialed the number in Odessa and leaned heavily on the counter and listened to it ring. It rang a long time. Finally her mother answered . Its Llewelyn. She don't want to talk to you. Yes she does. Do you know what time it is? I dont care what time it is. Dont you hang up this phone. I told her what was goin to happen, didnt I? Chapter and verse. I said: This is what will come to pass. And now it has come to pass. Don't you hang up this phone. You get her and you put her on. When she picked up the phone she said: I didnt think youd do me thisaway. Hello darlin, how are you? Are you all right, Llewelyn? What happened to them words? Where are you. Piedras Negras. What am I supposed to do, Llewelyn? Are you all right? No Im not all right. How would I be all right? People callin here about you. I had the sheriff up here from Terrell County. Showed up at the damn door. I aint dead. What did you tell him? What could I tell him? He might con you into sayin somethin. Youre hurt, aint you? What makes you say that? I can hear it in your voice. Are you okay? Im okay. Where are you? I told you where I was. You sound like you are in a bus station. Carla Jean I think you need to get out of there. Out of where? Out of that house. You're scarin me, Llewelyn. Out of here to go where? It dont matter. I just dont think you should stay there. You could go to a motel. And do what with Mama? Shell be all right. Shell be all right? Yes. You don't know that. Llewelyn didn't answer. Do you? I just dont think anybody will bother her. You don't think? You need to get out. Just take her with you. I cant take my mama to a motel. Shes sick if you aint forgot. What did the sheriff say. Said he was lookin for you, what do you think he said? What else did he say. She didn't answer. Carla Jean? She sounded like she was crying. What else did he say, Carla Jean? He said you was fixin to get yourself killed. Well, thats what he would say. She was quiet a long time. Carla Jean? Llewelyn, I dont even want the money. I just want us to be back like we was. We will be. No we wont. Ive thought about it. Its a false god. Yeah. But its real money. She said his name again and then she did begin to cry. He tried to talk to her but she didnt answer. He stood there listening to her sobbing quietly in Odessa. She didn't answer. Carla Jean? I want things to be like they were. If I tell you Ill try and fix everything will you do what I asked you? Yes. I will. Ive got a number here I can call. Somebody that can help us. Can you trust them? I dont know. I just know I cant trust nobody else. Ill call you tomorrow. I didnt think theyd find you up there or I never would of sent you. He hung up the phone and dialed the mobile number that Wells had given him. It answered on the second ring but it wasn't Wells. I think I got the wrong number, he said. You dont have the wrong number. You need to come see me. Who is this? You know who it is. Moss leaned on the counter, his forehead against his fist. Where's Wells? He cant help you now. What kind of a deal did you cut with him? I didnt cut any kind of a deal. Yes you did. How much was he going to give you? I don't know what you're talking about. Where's the money. What did you do with Wells. We had a difference of opinion. You dont need to concern yourself about Wells. Hes out of the picture. You need to talk to me. I don't need to talk to you. I think you do. Do you know where Im going? Why would I care where youre goin? Do you know where Im going? Moss didnt answer. Are you there? Im here. I know where you are. Yeah? Where am I? Youre in the hospital at Piedras Negras. But thats not where Im going. Do you know where Im going? Yeah. I know where youre goin. You can turn all this around. Why would I believe you? You believed Wells. I didnt believe Wells. You called him. So I called him. Tell me what you want me to do. Moss shifted his weight. Sweat stood on his forehead. He didnt answer. Tell me something. Im waiting. I could be waitin for you when you get there you know, Moss said. Charter a plane. You thought about that? That would be okay. But you wont. How do you know I wont? You wouldnt have told me. Anyway, I have to go. You know they wont be there. It doesnt make any difference where they are. So what are you goin up there for. You know how this is going to turn out, dont you? No. Do you? Yes. I do. I think you do too. You just havent accepted it yet. So this is what Ill do. You bring me the money and Ill let her walk. Otherwise shes accountable. The same as you. I dont know if you care about that. But thats the best deal youre going to get. I wont tell you you can save yourself because you cant. Im goin to bring you somethin all right, Moss said. Ive decided to make you a special project of mine. You aint goin to have to look for me at all. Im glad to hear that. You were beginning to disappoint me. You wont be disappointed. Good. You dont have to by god worry about bein disappointed. He left before daylight dressed in the muslin hospital gown with the overcoat over it. The skirt of the overcoat was stiff with blood. He had no shoes. In the inside pocket of the coat was the money hed folded away there, stiff and bloodstained. He stood in the street looking toward the lights. Hed no notion where he was. The concrete cold under his feet. He made his way down to the corner. A few cars passed. He walked down to the lights at the next corner and stopped and leaned with one hand against the building. He had two white lozenges in his overcoat pocket that hed saved and he took one now, swallowing it dry. He thought he was going to vomit. He stood there for a long time. There was a windowsill there hed have sat on save that it was spiked with pointed iron bars to discourage loiterers. A cab went by and he raised one hand but it kept going. He was going to have to go out into the street and after a while he did. Hed been tottering there for some time when another cab passed and he raised his hand and it pulled to the curb. The driver studied him. Moss leaned on the window. Can you take me across the bridge? he said. To the other side. Yes. To the other side. You got monies. Yes. I got monies. The driver looked dubious. Twenty dollars, he said. Okay. At the gate the guard leaned down and regarded him where he sat in the dim rear of the cab. What country were you born in? he said. The United States. What are you bringing in? Not anything. The guard studied him. Would you mind stepping out here? he said. Moss pushed down on the doorhandle and leaned on the front seat to ease himself out of the cab. He stood. What happened to your shoes? I dont know. You dont have any clothes on, do you? I got clothes on. The second guard was waving the cars past. He pointed for the cabdriver. Would you please pull your cab over into that second space there? The driver put the cab in gear. Would you mind stepping away from the vehicle? Moss stepped away. The cab pulled into the parking area and the driver cut the engine. Moss looked at the guard. The guard seemed to be waiting for him to say something but he didnt. They took him inside and sat him in a steel chair in a small white office. Another man came in and stood leaning against a steel desk. He looked him over. How much have you had to drink? I aint had anything to drink. What happened to you? What do you mean? What happened to your clothes. I dont know. Do you have any identification? No. Nothing. No. The man leaned back, his arms crossed at his chest. He said: Who do you think gets to go through this gate into the United States of America? I dont know. American citizens. Some American citizens. Who do you think decides that? You do I reckon. Thats correct. And how do I decide? I dont know. I ask questions. If I get sensible answers then they get to go to America. If I dont get sensible answers they dont. Is there anything about that that you dont understand? No sir. Then maybe youd like to start over. All right. We need to hear more about why youre out here with no clothes on. I got a overcoat on. Are you jackin with me? No sir. Dont jack with me. Are you in the service? No sir. Im a veteran. What branch of the service. United States Army. Were you in Nam? Yessir. Two tours. What outfit. Twelfth Infantry. What were your dates of tour duty. August seventh nineteen and sixty-six to September second nineteen and sixty-eight. The man watched him for some time. Moss looked at him and looked away. He looked toward the door, the empty hall. Sitting hunched forward in the overcoat with his elbows on his knees. Are you all right? Yessir. Im all right. I got a wife thatll come and get me if you all will let me go on. Have you got any money? You got change for a phone call? Yessir. He heard claws scrabbling on the tiles. A guard was standing there with a German Shepherd on a lead. The man jutted his chin at the guard. Get someone to help this man. He needs to get into town. Is the taxi gone? Yessir. It was clean. I know. Get someone to help him. He looked at Moss. Where are you from? Im from San Saba Texas. Does your wife know where you are? Yessir. I talked to her here just a while ago. Did you all have a fight? Did who have a fight? You and your wife. Well. Somewhat of a one I reckon. Yessir. You need to tell her youre sorry. Sir? I said you need to tell her youre sorry. Yessir. I will. Even if you think it was her fault. Yessir. Go on. Get your ass out of here. Yessir. Sometimes you have a little problem and you dont fix it and then all of a sudden it aint a little problem anymore. You understand what Im tellin you? Yessir. I do. Go on. Yessir. It was almost daylight and the cab was long gone. He set out up the street. A bloody serum was leaking from his wound and it was running down the inside of his leg. People paid him little mind. He turned up Adams Street and stopped at a clothing store and peered in. Lights were on at the rear. He knocked at the door and waited and knocked again. Finally a small man in a white shirt and a black tie opened the door and looked out at him. I know you aint open, Moss said, but I need some clothes real bad. The man nodded and swung open the door. Come in, he said. They walked side by side down the aisle toward the boot section. Tony Lama, Justin, Nocona. There were some low chairs there and Moss eased himself down and sat with his hands gripping the chair arms. I need boots and some clothes, he said. I got some medical problems and I dont want to walk around no more than what I can help. The man nodded. Yessir, he said. Of course. Do you carry the Larry Mahans? No sir. We dont. Thats all right. I need a pair of Wrangler jeans thirty-two by thirty-four length. A shirt size large. Some socks. And show me some Nocona boots in a ten and a half. And I need a belt. Yessir. Did you want to look at hats? Moss looked across the store. I think a hat would be good. You got any of them stockmans hats with the small brim? Seven and three-eights? Yes we do. We have a three X beaver in the Resistol and a little better grade in the Stetson. A five X, I think it is. Let me see the Stetson. That silverbelly color. All right sir. Are white socks all right? White socks is all I wear. What about underwear? Maybe a pair of jockey shorts. Thirty-two. Or medium. Yessir. You just make yourself comfortable. Are you all right? Im all right. The man nodded and turned to go. Can I ask you somethin? Moss said. Yessir. Do you get a lot of people come in here with no clothes on? No sir. I wouldnt say a lot. He carried the pile of new clothing with him to the dressingroom and slid off the coat and hung it from the hook on the back of the door. A pale dried blood was crusted across his sallow sunken paunch. He pushed at the edges of the tape but they wouldnt stick. He eased himself down on the wooden bench and pulled on the socks and he opened the package of shorts and took them out and pulled them over his feet and up to his knees and then stood and pulled them carefully up over the dressing. He sat again and undid the shirt from its cardboard forms and endless pins. When he came out of the dressing room he had the coat over his arm. He walked up and down the creaking wooden aisle. The clerk stood looking down at the boots. The lizard takes longer to break in, he said. Yeah. Hot in the summer too. These are all right. Lets try that hat. I aint been duded up like this since I got out of the army. The sheriff sipped his coffee and set the cup back down in the same ring on the glass desktop that hed taken it from. Theyre fixin to close the hotel, he said. Bell nodded. I aint surprised. They all quit. That feller hadnt pulled but two shifts. I blame myself. Never occurred to me that the son of a bitch would come back. I just never even imagined such a thing. He might never of left. I thought about that too. The reason nobody knows what he looks like is that they dont none of em live long enough to tell it. This is a goddamned homicidal lunatic, Ed Tom. Yeah. I dont think hes a lunatic though. Well what would you call him? I dont know. When are they fixin to close it? Its done closed, as far as that goes. You got a key? Yeah. I got a key. Its a crime scene. Why dont we go over there and look around some more. All right. We can do that. The first thing they saw was the transponder unit sitting on a windowsill in the hallway. Bell picked it up and turned it in his hand, looking at the dial and the knobs. That aint a goddamn bomb is it Sheriff? No. Thats all we need. Its a trackin device. So whatever it was they was trackin they found. Probably. How long has it been settin there do you reckon? I dont know. I think I might be able to guess what they were trackin, though. Maybe, Bell said. Theres somethin about this whole deal that dont rattle right. It aint supposed to. We got a ex-army colonel here with most of his head gone that you had to ID off of his fingerprints. What fingers wasnt shot off. Regular army. Fourteen years service. Not a piece of paper on him. Hed been robbed. Yeah. What do you know about this that you aint tellin, Sheriff? You got the same facts I got. I aint talkin about facts. Do you think this whole mess has moved south? Bell shook his head. I dont know. You got a dog in this hunt? Not really. A couple of kids from my county that might be sort of involved that ought not to be. Sort of involved. Yeah. Are we talkin kin? No. Just people from my county. People Im supposed to be lookin after. He handed the transponder unit to the sheriff. What am I supposed to do with this? Its Maverick County property. Crime scene evidence. The sheriff shook his head. Dope, he said. Dope. They sell that shit to schoolkids. Its worse than that. Hows that? Schoolkids buy it.