The Kid heard the safe go boom and he looked round at the assembled passengers who'd been herded out in preparation for the detonation. He was relieved to see that not one of them appeared to have the urge to do something heroic. They were instead looking quite impressed to have been robbed by the Devil Hole's Gang. Well, thought Kid, guess if you gotta be robbed, it's less galling being robbed by the best.
He waited a few more minutes for his partner and Kyle to emerge with the money, and when they didn't, felt the slightest tendril of worry. He waved over to three of the gang, who were standing guarding a small group of passengers. "Wheat, I'm gonna go check on what's happenin' in there. Make sure no one does anythin' stupid."
When Wheat acknowledged him with a grunt, he started to walk back towards the train and as he got to the blown door of the baggage car, heard a muffled conversation and carefully stepped in, his gun drawn, to be met by Kyle and Heyes kneeling by a large case, the money now carefully stuffed into bags, seemingly forgotten. Heyes hearing him enter looked up. "Hey, Kid, look it's a guitar! I ain't had the chance to get my hands on one of these, since, well, since Grandpa Curry used to sing all them songs from the old country, when the nights was too dark to do much else 'cept huddle round the fire. You remember how he used to let me play his sometimes Kid?"
The Kid sighed and bit down on an angry retort, he hated it when his partner got like this. Though always thinking and reworking his plans, to make sure everything was right in the week leading up to a robbery and never less than intensely focused. during the height of the job, sometimes once everything was from his side of things,successfully concluded, he got distracted by the strangest things and there was little chance of budging him until he was ready. The best course was to stay calm and attempt to get his attention back on what was important, so he only said. "Heyes, we got about fifty passengers, four guards, and a driver, who are all waitin' for us to leave with the money in those bags". He nodded over at the bulging sacks before continuing. "So they can get goin' again and you're admirin' a guitar! I gotta wonder 'bout you sometimes."
Heyes said absently as he stroked the well worn case. "Ain't no different to you getting your head turned by some pretty girl. I know they ain't gonna cause us no trouble. I can read a crowd, you know that Kid."
"I ain't sayin' you can't Heyes, but that dynamite weren't exactly quiet and folk at the next stop will be wondering exactly where this train got to." He turned to Kyle who was watching them in puzzled silence. "How much of the stuff did you use this time?"
Kyle spat his tobacco out and smiled. "Just a few sticks. Kid. About six, no seven."
"Seven? We weren't tryin' to blow the whole damn train up, Kyle." The Kid dismissed the little man and turned to his partner, saying urgently. "C'mon Heyes, we gotta get outta here!"
Heyes with a final affectionate, longing glance at the guitar case, scrambled to his feet. "I'm gonna get me one of these, Kid. Now c'mon we gotta leave, before we got a posse too close on our asses."
The Kid gritted his teeth but said calmly enough. "Yeah, Heyes that ain't a bad idea."
XXX
With everyone safely back in Devil's Hole, all the Kid wanted to do was sleep. But he was instead desperately covering his head with a pillow, as Heyes played Simple Gifts yet again, on the guitar he'd insisted on buying in a town near to where they'd robbed the train, despite there being the very real possibility of a posse on their tail.
The Kid had tried to talk him out of it to no avail. "It ain't gonna take hardly any of my share of that ten thousand dollars we just stole and we'll have plenty time, because I bet that posse went towards Rawlins, rather than heading here. We left them enough of a false trail and you know these posses ain't always real smart."
The Kid's remaining adrenalin rush from the successful job had faded about an hour ago, and a week of late nights listening to Heyes fine tune his plan, plus a six am start to the day, had finally taken their toll, leaving him exhausted and short-tempered and ill suited to humouring his partner. "Heyes, give it a rest! I ain't a horse like you. I need more than a few hours sleep in a month." His partner either didn't hear him, or more likely simply chose to ignore him and continued to hum as he played.
After another five minutes, the Kid tried again. "I just wanna sleep for twelve hours, Heyes and not hear the word train or dynamite for at least another day after that."
When he still got no reaction he tried to bury his head in the quilt to drown out the noise. He knew it was just Heyes' way of coming down from his own adrenaline rush, but it was well past one am and his patience was rapidly waning. He survived another ten minutes before he finally snapped, sat up straight and threw the pillow he'd been lying on, hard in Heyes' direction, hitting him on the head, eliciting a startled oomph from his friend as he snarled "Give it a rest, Heyes! I bin up for eighteen hours straight and my fist is is getting twitchier with every passin' hour!"
Heyes glared at him. "Ain't no need to be proddy, Kid, you coulda just asked!"
The Kid stared at him in stunned silence for a minute before saying grimly. "I ain't touchin' that Heyes, 'cos if I do I may be tempted to shoot ya!"
Heyes absently plucked at the guitar strings for a few moments. But as he obviously became aware of the Kid grinding his teeth, and tensing his body, realising perhaps just how close his friend was to leaping out of bed and grabbing the guitar out of his hands and hitting him hard over the head with it, stopped and looked up, the very image of hurt innocence. "Well, if you're gonna be like that Kid, I'll just go relieve the boys of some of their share of that cash we stole, before they blow it all at the weekend."
The Kid grunted in relief as Heyes laid the guitar down and with another offended look in his direction walked out of their shared cabin.
