Chapter 10 – Arrival in the Darkness
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Jim stood in the doorway of his partner's small, jumbled bedroom. He wore dark blue pants with his usual black boots but a dark blue shirt was slung over his bare shoulder. "I don't think you were asking the right questions, partner. You were supposed to be asking questions about San Francisco," Jim growled under his breath, as he yanked the leather straps of his sleeve gun onto his right arm. The small Derringer was tucked into the waistband of his pants, the grip pressing against his stomach. "You can make dates for New York City after this party is over."
"I thought my questions about becoming better acquainted in New York were completely appropriate to this situation. I think Christian is beginning to trust me. I hope to get further details as we move out tonight, either in a group of four or two groups of two." Artie paused from his work of applying grease to his dark locks in front of a mirror to look at Jim, "Of course the two groups of two could still be you and me following them," he said, his eyes worried. He also wore a pair of dark pants, the waistband covered with a wide black leather belt. His shirt however was a tight fitting pullover, with black and white horizontal strips. A black handkerchief was loosely tied around his neck.
Jim snapped the Derringer in place and raised his arm, testing the mechanism. Satisfied, he turned back to Artie, "Plan A is still all four of us traveling together; plan B is I follow Lori and you follow Christian." He pulled the shirt on and began fixing the buttons, "what is that outfit anyway? Will I be able to recognize you if we get separated and I happen to see you in the street? And is there another outfit underneath that one?"
Artie grinned, his white teeth flashing a golden tooth in the front. "I am just a poor young sailor, down on his luck, wandering the docks," he said, "Possibly looking for a pretty, dark-haired girl to spend the evening with." He picked up a thin, black mustache and applied it to his upper lip, leaning close to the mirror again.
"No white haired old man tonight?" Jim laughed, knowing Artie was more likely to dress as a young man when pretty girls were involved.
Artie winked at him while holding the mustache on. Speaking slowly, as to not dislodge the fake hair on his lip, "and how is it going with Lori? You seem a bit slower than usual at attracting the fairer sex this week. The usual tricks not working with this one?"
"I think she sees me as one of her brothers," Jim said with a long sigh. "Not really the attitude I was hoping to develop." He paused, shaking his head, "though I am a little reluctant at pushing her boundaries. I think she would push back, if you know what I mean."
"Good to take it slow," Artie said, standing and lowering his hands. He turned his head sideways, looking at the mustache in the mirror. "At least she stopped hitting you. That's an improvement." Jim nodded, as he tucked his shirt tail into his waistband. "So when should we be stopping at the siding? I am about finished here. I've been so busy with this outfit that I haven't noticed where the girls are tonight."
Jim pulled out his pocket watch, "another twenty minutes. We need to gather them up. Lori is in my room but I'm not sure where Christian is. I hope she hasn't disappeared on us. She could be here but we can't see her because she's invisible," he said, grinning at Artie. Then he turned to look behind him as the knob to his door turned. "Speak of the Devil," he said, stepping back as Lori emerged from the bedroom and moved down the hall toward the swinging doors. "We should be stopping in about twenty minutes and then…" he paused as she turned to look at him, not breaking her stride.
"I am getting off now," Lori said, "you do what you want." She turned again to walk toward the doorway. She also wore dark clothing, with a wide brimmed hat pulled low over her eyes. Her double barreled shotgun was in her hand while the leather sleeve was slung over her shoulder.
"What?" Jim snapped, "wait a minute." He hurried to her and was reaching out to grab her arm when the girl reached up to the emergency wire, giving the train whistle two quick pulls. The train whistle hooted twice, the signal for the train to slow. Immediately, the brakes came on and the train almost stopped, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Signaling Cobb to slow the train so I can jump off," Lori said, pointing out the hall window, "I am getting off just past this narrow area."
Jim's teeth started to grind as he growled out, "you obviously have learned the train signals but I don't think you two should be jumping off here. This is miles from town…"
"It may be miles from town," Lori said, pausing at the swinging doors, her pale eyes glaring back at him, "but it's in the backyard of the house I am walking to." She stepped through the doors into the living room area, with Jim close on her heels.
"Who's house?" Jim demanded, as Artie followed. He stole a look back at his partner as they all entered the living room. Again, Jim reached out toward an elbow but the girl moved quicker.
"The guy I'm after," Lori said. She turned to face both agents. "This guy's house is on the edge of the city, we found the street name on the city street map. I am checking to see if he is there. If he isn't, then we can wander around town looking for him."
Artie stepped closer, looking nervously around the room, "and is Christian going with you?"
Lori dropped the shotgun into its leather boot, "she left half an hour ago, jumped off when we slowed for that last hill."
"WHAT?" Artie roared, "by herself?" He took a step closer to the girl, his hands waving in the air at her. "Alone? In the pitch dark? She just jumped off the back of the train?"
"There was a place where the road curved closer to the tracks," Lori smiled sweetly at them, "handy place to jump off, be right on the road to the house. She needed to get there first, have a chance to look around, before I arrived so…"
"So she went alone," Jim said, his fists were balled onto his hips. Artie turned away, his voice chocking, and wiped a shaking hand over his face. Jim watched his partner for a heart-beat, knowing Artie's silence was worse than his yelling. He turned back to the girl, speaking in a low whisper, "Are you two crazy? And all those train questions of yours were just so you could plan this out; how slow the train goes, how to signal the engineer? All week we have discussed what we were going to do and now you two are just jumping off the train into the darkness…"
"Oh, for the love of God," Lori burst out, "we are not children. We can walk down a street in the dark without getting eaten by cougars or hit by a meteor!" She turned away and Jim jumped around her, blocking the door.
"If you get off this train, I'm going with you," Jim growled. He reached to the desk and grabbed his jacket. Pulling it on, he looked at his partner. "Finish up your outfit and go find her. We'll meet back here eventually." But Artie was already moving through the swinging doors toward his room. He looked back at Lori, who stood, arms crossed across her chest, angrily waiting. Jim stepped back and opened the door, waving a hand toward the opening. "After you," he said, as she strode past, silently. He let out a long sigh and followed her into the darkness.
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Moments later, on a back street…
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Artemus stopped walking, mid-step, listening to voices. His heart pounded so hard it seemed to interfere with his hearing. He tilted his head toward the sound and squinted into the darkness. Misty tendrils of fog swirled around him, obscuring his vision further than the next few steps. He looked up at the dark street lantern overhead and then to the deserted businesses on either side of the narrow street. Many street lights in the area were unused and broken, causing long stretches of gloomy, fog-filled spaces. Most storefronts were closed at night unless it was a brothel or saloon. The voices drifted again, closer this time, making Artemus flatten himself against a brick wall. He looked down at his dark clothes and reassured himself that he was invisible against the old bricks.
"Invisible," Artie muttered, looking around him. "This is what you meant after all. You wear dark clothes and are small, quiet as a mouse, and no one sees you. How will I find you?" He thought of the dark house at the address Lori had given him. No one had appeared home and he hadn't entered, knowing Jim would be inside searching the rooms. He had moved up and down various streets in the area without seeing Christian. "Maybe I am doing this wrong," he chuckled, "if I can't find her, she could find me."
Artemus stepped away from the safety of the wall, hunched his shoulders, and tilted his long, knitted cap at a jaunty angle. Moving forward with a stagger of a drunken man, he began to sing, loudly and off-key. "What do you do with a drunken sailor?! What do you do …"
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At the house….
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"How do you want to go inside," Jim whispered to the blond. They stood close, behind a clump of trees, staring at the house. It was a tall, square shaped, wooden home with the usual symmetry of windows. A variety of out buildings surrounded a small carriage barn further back form the street. "We could go around the back and see if there is an open window. Or I could pick a door lock in the back if…"
"I'm a front door girl," Lori said, stepping away from him. She pulled the shotgun out of the sheath and moved to the front steps.
"Of course you are," Jim muttered, watching her walk toward the front porch, amused and worried at the same time. He twisted his right wrist and the Derringer slid into his palm. He waited in the shadows for Lori to reach the door and watched for guards to appear along the walls of the house. When no one showed, he quickly stepped behind her. "Locked?"
Lori whispered over her shoulder, "No. Just listening," she said, turning the doorknob. She opened the door and quickly walked into the house. Jim kept to her heels and shut the door silently behind them. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the reduced light.
"Coming?" Lori said, hefting the gun in both hands. "Or staying here?"
"I'm with you, sweetheart," Jim said, "if we get separated, we may shoot each other by accident. Richmond would be very upset with me." Lori hmphed and stepped across the room.
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in the alley...
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Artie stumbled against the rough brick wall, sliding his shoulder along the filth, and raised his silver flask toward the approaching men. The taller brute, obviously the leader, stepped closer as the other three spread out in a line behind him.
"What are you doing here," the man growled, leaning over the cowering agent. "Lost in the fog? The ships are a mile away from here."
Artie held his hands out in front of his face, dirty fingertips poking out of fingerless gloves, "please, sir," he said, slurring his words, "I was just looking for a watering hole that would serve an ole salt like me." He laughed, his voice creaking and hissed whisky breath toward the man. The brute stepped back with his nose wrinkling. "Maybe one with a pretty girl to serve me whiskey."
"Well," the man said, coughing at the smell, "we are looking for a woman too." Artie tried not to react as his heart jumped in his throat. "A woman and a small child. A little girl." The man held his hand out to his side, indicating a shorter person. "Both dressed in black. They may be hiding in a house or tavern." The man shook his head irritated, "filthy drunk. Why am I wasting time asking you?" He shoved Artie with both hands, slamming him back into the wall. "Get out of my way," he growled as he pushed past the agent in the narrow street. The gang of lackeys followed, each one slamming a hand or fist into Artie's chest as they moved past.
Artemus turned toward the wall slightly, attempting to shield himself from the onslaught. The last one only managed to punch his shoulder as he hurried past. Artie's teeth ground in frustration, hating not being able to fight back. Pretending to be helpless was often a dangerous balance of staying in character and staying alive. He turned back to face the street and continued to lean against the wall, wondering where to go to next. Just as he stepped away, he heard his name whispered behind him.
"What?" He turned in the darkness, squinting into the fog.
"Artemus," the voice whispered again, almost as if the name floated on the fog.
Artie turned to face the wall again, stepping closer. He walked along, running his left hand along the rough bricks. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a chill went down his spine. Was that a woman's voice? His right hand went into the coat's deep pocket to grasp the revolver's cold grip.
"Artemus," the voice repeated, now seemingly next to his ear.
He jumped, and stepped back. Christian's pale features appeared to him from the darkness. She stepped closer, showing her black clothing, as she stood in a recessed doorway. "Thank God," he breathed, stepping to her. His hands instinctively went to her waist as she stood above him on the threshold. "Thank God you're safe but I have to tell you, woman," he growled, "that I hate your disappearing act."
She giggled, touching a fingertip to his mustache. "I love your mustache," she breathed, leaning closer to him. Her hands moved to rest on his chest and then slid up to his shoulders, her fingertips moving over his muscles underneath the tight fitting shirt. "And this outfit is very nice too."
"Speaking of this outfit," Artie said, relaxing now. "How did you know it was me, just for my own education and occupational improvement?"
Christian's brilliant smile flashed in the darkness, "oh, I knew you would do something like this so," she paused, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, "I snuck into your room the other day and went through your wardrobe and trunks. I remember seeing these items."
Artie chuckled under his breath, "Now, sugar," he whispered, moving a boot onto the threshold, "that's cheating." He boosted himself up and planted his other boot opposite hers. He leaned over and kissed her, holding her against him. He was relieved to feel her arms move around his shoulders to embrace him with no stabbing pains from the knives in her belt. He felt her move back and released her.
"Would you like to know why I had to leave the train first," she whispered, her lips on his ear.
"Yes," he growled again, "I would like to know why you ran off like that. Was this the famous invisibility trick? Jumping off the train into the dark?"
She kissed him again, lightly this time, whispering, "I can disappear in the daylight too. No one notices me, if I don't want them too." Her face moved back, to look into his eyes, "no one ever sees me."
Artie stared at her, taking in her blue eyes as he held her. "Well I see you and I'm not letting you out of my sight again," he said. "Now tell me what's this all about."
Christian stepped back, breaking the embrace but keeping one hand in his. "This is why," she said, stepping sideways to reveal a bundle of black cloak on the ground, tucked into a corner of the building. She squatted down and moved a corner of the cloth to reveal the pale face of a child. The eyes were closed and the child breathed regularly; sound asleep. She covered the face again and stood. "We need to get the child to the train before those men find me." As if on cue, the deeper voices of the searchers came to them in the night air. The girl instinctively stepped back into the darkness again.
Artie leaned over to give her a quick kiss, "give me five minutes to get rid of these idiots and then bring her out. We'll get back without anyone else seeing us. I can hide in the dark pretty well myself." He turned and stepped off the threshold into the street, immediately changing into the drunken man again.
"Ahoy, mates," he called out, waving his arms, "let us drink together!" The group of men paused, all turning angry faces back toward him. One waved an angry fist but Artie pretended not to notice. He pulled out a flask and staggered to the group. There were only three this time and the tallest leader wasn't among them. He leaned over, whispering, "I see ya'll are without your bossman now," he said, conspiratorially, "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble by offering you a bit of me whiskey." He watched the two younger men look to the third, slightly older one. Artie held a flask out to him, "we'll take a nip and then go on to the nearest establishment for refills," he laughed, coughing slightly, his other hand covering his face with a handkerchief.
The man reached out for the flask, "and why not? Haven't we searched for an hour or more? We can go in and get warmed up, maybe take a rest for a while," he laughed, pulling the cork from the flask's neck. A white gas burst out, quickly spreading into the faces of the three brutes. Their eyes immediately dimmed and rolled back into their heads. The three collapsed against each other in a heap on the cobblestones.
Artie leaned over them, muttering, "and have a nice, long nap. You deserve the headache when you awaken too." He turned and waved a hand toward the darkened doorway. Christian stepped down into the street carrying the child. She had pulled a hood over her head and was completely covered in the black cloth. "I had better hold onto those folds as we walk or I will lose you in the darkness," he whispered as she stopped at his side to look down at the sleeping men. He took her elbow with his left hand as his right quietly pulled the pistol from his coat pocket. They hurried toward the train through the deepening fog.
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back at the house...
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Jim stood behind Lori as they faced yet another closed door. The girl's slender hands gripped the shotgun, held across her chest. Her hat blocked her face but Jim could tell by her shoulder's that she was tense. Voices had been muttering in the next room, too softly to discern the words, suddenly began to increase in volume. Men were shouting now, arguing, as furniture scuffed on a floor.
"We have to find her immediately," one deep voice said.
"She's gone and someone took her," another voice said, slightly higher pitched. "You can't hide behind a child anyway. It ain't right."
"She just wandered off," the deep voice argued again. "I have to get her back. She's my only leverage. I will look around the house. You go into town and look. Maybe someone did take her."
Jim stared at the door, wondering what the men were talking about, as Lori turned to peek at him from under the hat's brim. Her pale eyes were colorless in the dim light of the hall but her amusement was obvious. She winked at him and turned back to the door. One hand grasped the knob but Jim reached around her to grab her wrist. When she looked at him, he silently worded "wait".
Voices stopped as more furniture scrapped. A door farther away creaked open and suddenly voices were heard coming from outside. A bright light flickered crazily though a hall window. Jim crossed quickly to the glass to watch a group of men walk outside to horses. They seemed to look back into the house as they mounted, then suddenly turned and rode away down the road, the man in front holding a lantern to his side. Jim looked back at Lori and nodded.
Lori turned the knob and walked through the doorway, with Jim on her heels again. A lone man spun to face her as she tipped her hat back to reveal her face.
"You," the man choked out, shock clear on his long face. He reached for his pistol hung low on his hip but the shotgun rose toward his face. He stepped back, holding his arms out to his sides. "No, don't shoot me!"
"John," Lori said quietly. "You know the child is gone and you know who took her." The girl smiled, enjoying the game. "And you know your men won't find her either because she is invisible tonight."
"That's horseshit!" The man stepped forward and then backwards again, obviously confused at what he should do. "No one can be…it ain't right. She just does some trick like a magic trick."
"Oh, no," Lori laughed, "and now you are coming with me. We are going all the way back to Washington. Your friends miss you and want you to return."
"No," the man said, becoming more upset, "you can't make me ride train and it's too far for a horse. I won't go with you…" he dropped his hand to his side, starting to reach for the gun belt. Jim stepped to one side of Lori, showing himself. The man froze again, seeing the new adversary, "who are you?"
"This is my friend Jim," Lori said, "he has a train. He would also like you to come with us." Jim slowly raised his right hand, holding his arm across his chest, showing the derringer. The man's face paled even further. "Jim, this is John Harrigan. His father owns that house in Washington that you were watching last week. John took something and brought it to California. I was in that house looking for what he took but I didn't find it because he had already left town. And now both need to go back."
Jim looked more closely at the man, noting the long face, the squarish head, and dark hair. "I have met his father, Ronald Harrigan. He has contacts in California. Men who use shipping containers marked with words like cotton, wheat, and barely but actually hold a variety of other things of much higher value. I am sure John would be an interesting travel companion on the way back. We could talk about all sorts of things." Jim grinned at the man, "of course you will be riding in the stable car with the horses."
"I'm not going," John repeated, stepping back.
Jim spoke to Lori without looking at her. "You want to tie him up or should I?" The girl nodded to him and Jim grabbed a piece of rope from a nearby bench and advanced on the man.
tbc