A One-Time Deal

Bobby stood there, bewildered at the unusualness of our crew. "Now, have I got this figured correctly? Squeaky Shrieks, you're the smuggler?" He said as Ivy struggled with another case of 'embalming fluid'. Noticing the struggle, I quickly loaded up my box and went back to help the lady before Ivy threw her back out.

"Tiny-tot over there is the muscle?" Bobby continued, pointing over at Freckle as he too struggled with the crate. "And that's this evening's mastermind?" Bobby gestured over at Rocky, currently standing outside of the hole the Arbogast's hearse apparently made the night before. The tabby turned to look at us with eyes that even scared the pastor in the back of the farm truck.

"Didn't anyone teach him to come in out of the rain?" Bobby pondered, Rocky clearly being the biggest enigma of the group. Ivy was quick to offer an explanation… of sorts. "Compulsive rhyming. You just must let it run its course." She then finished with that case of our special liquid and wiped her paws of the dust and straw. "At least I think that's what it is. Possibly, he's just yelling at the sky."

Bobby then turned his focus to me as I moved a lantern for better light. "Which makes it even more puzzling why you're here, lad. I can tell by the cut of your jib that you must have been in the war. Which division?"

I didn't feel like giving a more extensive answer, but a fellow soldier was due at least some measure of respect. "Yes… I was a doughboy. Don't like reliving it much…"

"I understand." Bobby shrugged his shoulders before grabbing the other lantern. "Alright jellybeans, come over here. I'll tell you all a story instead about what happens if you get—" The fiery pastor then butted in with a lantern of his own, illuminating this thin face and mane. "Tell them what happens when they get caught!"

"That's what I'm—can you just please—"

It wasn't a fun story, but the point was quite relevant. We get caught; the story is that we robbed the Arbogast's. But at least we were all in agreement. With payment exchanged for booze, Rocky and Freckle were in the pie truck and off into the dark and rainy night. Not before Freckle and Ivy had a moment in the other vehicle, however. I decided to mind my own business for that one and instead take in the scenery. For a while, I stood in the same hole in the wall that Rocky was incoherently rambling from. It indeed was dark, too dark to properly see the land in between flashes of lightning. The rain was coming down in sheets with no sign of letting up.

The good news is my job was simple, protect the farm truck, and Ivy, from anyone who might follow or intercept us. Even the cops would be fair game. Rocky's car was our last hope of escape if things went south. If things went well, we wouldn't have to worry about any trouble though. The pie truck was the perfect distraction, a tactic I personally thought was a stroke of genius on Rocky's part. I was less-sure about his idea of confronting the Marigold enforcers alone in the dark on some rural road though, that seemed more like a coin-toss whether he and Calvin would succeed or not. But that wasn't part of the plan to worry about. Protect the liquor and our esteemed driver, as green as the May foliage.

Speaking of, Ivy was currently giving it her best in a card game with the pastor. All Bobby had to stare at was the house, the rain, and me. Sensing perhaps one more opportunity for a little extra of the good stuff, I threw out an offer. "You know, assuming we all make it through tonight in one piece, I could help fix your barn in exchange for a couple more crates of the good stuff."

Bobby, while interested in the help, stood fast. "Sorry lad, this all a one-time deal, remember? If we all make it through tonight in one piece, I certainly hope your crew will find a different supplier."

"Ah well, worth a shot."

The noise from the rain was getting to be quite boring. Even our two cardplayers could barely keep the game going with soaking hands full of paper-mush. The pastor voiced his displeasure and frustration at a game that evidently was going south for him anyway. "How can one draw anything but a handful of pulpy mash from this water-logged heap…"

I guess Ivy had the old man on the ropes. "Tsk. Cheating at cards. Hustlin' booze. Preachin' damnation. You sure are a contradiction."

Yet the preacher was more proficient with words than with cards. "To you in your failure to understand anything! But of course, with the outlook of a childyou've confused temperance with temperance union blatherings. The idea that sectarian fine-tuning of the law represents rectitude—there's your contradiction! That the ravening ambitions of industrial titans and the motives of a snooping, spying government add up to moral reform…"

He certainly was making a good point. All the powers in Europe managed to accomplish in four years was sending tens of millions to die… not to mention the destruction of a continent. The industrial titans? Well, they played their part. I had a piece of their handwork stashed in the car, as well as an instrument of the police in my coat. And back in the mines? Well… I really didn't want to be reminded of the tragedies there. Yet Abelard continued:

"…not a contradiction… but the passing on of all this like a cursed heirloom to another generation that doesn't understand anything."

Just then, the lights in the farmhouse flashed on and off several times. "Well, I'd say thank you for the sermon, pastor, but you just frightened our truck driver in the process."

"As she should be, soldier boy! Our usual customers are reapers, sweeping scythes to knock down any blade of grass that stands too tall. Yet here you both are, mere children playing a game where men don't grow old."

Well, I certainly couldn't let that be the last word. Besides, Ivy looked like she needed some assurance that no matter what went down, she at least had someone watching her back tonight. "A fine point, reverend, but don't let your eyes deceive you of my youth. I came from the mines and grew up on a battlefield. As for the reapers? As a certain Liddle-Hart heart said—"

"A rapier among scythes…" Bobby finished for me with a pat on the shoulder and a smile.

"Forgive the foreboding, the family business is hard-won. Our rationalizing even more so. We're protective of them. He's cranky, he'll have to reckon with himself again. Of course, we must appreciate that history repeats, not just in great arcs of time, but in little, maddening spirals too." Bobby continued with his own sermon as the stout Brit shoved the tailgate closed and fastened the latches. "My tack on that though—more grandmum's calendar prose than tortured screed. It's at least partly why these dour farm-folk keep me around. We're fine. And you'll be fine."

Bobby then pulled out his pistol and handed it to Ivy as she closed the door on the truck. "But just in case of a pinch… since you're already acquainted…"

"One more foreboding for the road?" she asked, taking the revolver into her hand.

"No. Just, you know, keep your head and try to never use that thing again. Ever. The gun, I mean, not the head. Keep using the head."

"Right. Yep."

"Well gentlemen, I'll take my leave. I'll be right behind you Miss Pepper, just without lights."

"Okay, well now's the part where you drive away."

I glanced back as I hadn't yet heard the engine start up. Ivy looked somewhat confused, and nervous. "…yep. Here I go. …I'm goin'…"

"Start the engine first, dear." Bobby hinted. I rolled my eyes. This really wasn't going to help our credibility that much. I leaned in the passenger window and pointed at the ignition. "Push the clutch and brake, then turn the key, Miss Pepper. She'll start right up."

"Okay…" Two feet down, turn of the wrist, and the cylinders began their one note song.

"Alrighty. All set Miss Pepper?"

"Yes Ethan, thanks."

I gave her a wink before slapping the door and quickly making my way to the car. The truck slowly rolled out of the barn before getting onto the driveway. Eventually the lights came on. Either a brilliant tactic on Ivy's part to hide which drive the truck originated from, or she couldn't find the lights. Either way, with enough distance between us, I gave a nod to Bobby. Rolling up to the hole in the barn, I figured I owed him at least a little bit more of an explanation of my service.

"Say, Bobby?"

"Yes lad?"

"It was the 308th Regiment, 77th Division. That's where I was assigned." Bobby's face said it all. In a way, it felt like a small relief. At least one other person knew what I went through. At least one other person understood. Turning onto the road, I could see the truck's taillights in the distance through the rain. My right hand put the car into high gear to keep the engine as quiet as possible before letting it rest on the action of my Springfield.

A Ghost in the Night

Twenty minutes later and the drive was still uneventful. I had to manipulate the wipers to keep my vision clear, the red lights ahead of me keeping up a slow but steady pace. It would be another half an hour before we got to the rendezvous with the boys, then we'd have a long drive back to the Saint Charles Bridge, but then we'd be out of the woods… literally. The drive gave me time to think about this whole "rumrunner" gig I just signed up for. Would this really be for the best? The money would be good, if we were successful, but I'd hardly call it a fortune. If Sable got me a job in his quarry, it would likely pay almost as much. That said, it was hard to figure how that career would be safer than this one. Arriving on the front in 1918 I hadn't the slightest clue how to use my rifle, let alone how to be a proper soldier. But the officers whipped us into shape and the Germans were more than happy to give us a lesson in the school of hard knocks.

I briefly looked down at my rifle, then at the loaded clips ready to go at a moment's notice. Miss M. had only given me enough money for one box of ammo, I had to buy another out of pocket as well as a box of 38 special for the revolver. Yet, compared to the trench sweepers and shotguns, I at least had a precision instrument of death. It was just then that another set of lights appeared on the side of the road and quickly caught up to the farm truck.

"Shit…"

Ivy was still nervous, but the route had been going fine now for some time. Somewhere behind her was Ethan, running without any lights some distance back. She had only gotten brief glimpses of the car when lightning would arc across the sky. The hum of the engine was steady, the wheels rolling along at a good, even pace. The rain no doubt made the dirt roads more hazardous, but at least she was unlikely to run into much traffic. In fact, no car had passed her the whole time she had been driving.

But then she saw it. A pair of warm-white headlights appeared from the ditch, sped up to pass the truck, and pulled a hard turn to block her from driving any further. With no other choice, Ivy slammed on the brakes and came to a sudden halt. Two cats emerged from the coupe, one taking the passenger side while the other came up to the driver door. Lightning still flashed overhead, and through the rain she could make out the tell-tail sign of who she was dealing with, a marigold flower on their left lapels. The one on the driver's side knocked on the window and motioned for her to roll it down. She didn't recognize him, which was good. Freckle and Rocky must have run into the others.

"Evening miss. Bad time to be out on the roads, don't you think?"

"I… uh… just needed to run to the store to get… medicine for my… uh… grandmother. Yes, medicine for grandma."

"Sorry kid, I'm not convinced. My associates have told us to be on the lookout for anyone with a certain cargo. Now be a dear and get out of the truck, we want to see what you're hauling."

"Oh, there's no need for that. The back just has a load of straw—"

"I'll be the judge of that, young lady. Now out…" The man then produced a handgun from his pocket.

"Okay…" Ivy said, nervously. She glanced down at the revolver wedged in the seat. Maybe this was the time to use it?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The other guy said from the passenger side, coach gun leveled at her. "Just do as we say, and you'll be fine."

Ivy nodded nervously before stepping out of the truck. The leader of the pair put his revolver to her back and forced her toward the rear of the truck. His lantern lit up the side, revealing nothing but straw.

"See?" Ivy said. "Just straw, like I said. Now will you please let me go home?"

"Not quite yet, miss. Butch, dig around back there."

Ivy gulped. At first, Butch didn't find anything, but then he moved just the right patch of straw. Both men smiled devilishly.

"Well, well, well, looks like we got ourselves a young smuggler." Butch said, gold tooth illuminated in the night. "What should we do with her, Joe?"

"Tsk, tsk, girl, you're in way over your head. We'll be taking your load from here, Butch will drive you to someplace more private for… questioning."

"No, please! Just take the stuff, I'm only doing what I'm told!" Ivy begged.

"You'll have to ask Butch for mercy, kid, I'm just concerned about my liquor you just stole. My guess is it's from those Arbogast's, isn't it? The "Embalming Fluid" is a dead giveaway."

"Please… I just want to go home!" Ivy was now crying. Joe almost had enough of a heart to let the kid go… almost. But this was business, and his bosses wouldn't take too kindly to hear about how he gave mercy to someone who just stole a truckload of booze. Even if that kid was a young woman.

Butch hopped down onto the ground, shotgun still in hand. "Alright kid, let's go take a ride…"

Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated something in the distance. Butch couldn't quite make it out It looked like another cat, but he couldn't be certain. "Hey Joe, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"Almost looked like someone was standing on the road."

Another flash of lightning revealed a completely empty road. "Just your eyes playing tricks on you Butch, take care of the kid, I'll handle the booze."

Butch raised the coach gun up so that it was in Ivy's face. "Okay little lady, start walking—"

Another flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder erupted from the sky. Just then, something hit the lantern Joe was holding.

"What the hell?" He said.

"Jesus Christ, I was right. Someone is out there." Butch said, turning his coach gun away from Ivy. For a moment, nothing could be heard except for the pounding rain. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and for a brief second, Butch saw him. He let go with both barrels. Now both of the men were breathing heavy, and Ivy was absolutely terrified. She ducked for cover while the two were distracted.

"Hey Joe, I think I got the basta—" boom.

A single bullet tore clean through Joe, blowing him off his feet.

"Ah shit… Butch? Butch!" Joe then saw Ivy cowering behind the truck. "Okay, enough with the games lady, where's your partner at. Answer me!" He grabbed Ivy and held the pistol against her chest.

"Right behind you…" A low voice said. Joe turned around and swung his pistol to fire at the cat standing right in front of him, but something sharp and heavy batted the gun out of the way just as he was pulling the trigger. His arm burned from the pain. He staggered back, but before he could turn and run to the car, the figure lunged at him, plunging a blade deep into his chest. Ivy rolled out of the way as both men stumbled toward the front of the truck. Finally illuminated, Joe could see his foe just before everything went black. He had come from the darkness, an a ghost, an angel of death.

I watched as the light faded from the guy's eyes, then relaxed, allowing him to slide off the bayonet. I could tell by his face that I must have looked pretty fierce, but in all honesty I was terrified. Did I still have what it took? Would I be quick enough? What if I blacked out again? Thankfully, it was either luck or extreme focus which kept me fixed on taking these two thugs out. And it seemed my rifle was every bit the instrument of death I hoped it would be. Only needed two shots, one bullet wound, minimal evidence to clean up.

More importantly, how was our driver? After taking a moment to calm the nerves, I opened the action of the rifle and took the bayonet off the gun, sheathing it in the scabbard hanging under my coat. Ivy was picking herself up off the ground, and I immediately slung the rifle over my shoulder before offering her a hand.

"Are you hurt, Miss Pepper?" Ivy grabbed hold and I pulled the young lady to her feet in one swift motion. "T-thanks Ethan." She said, shaking.

"Is that just nerves, or are you cold?"

"A bit of both, I think."

"Well, take some time before you keep going to breathe. Sorry it took me so long, I had to get closer before taking the shot."

"No apologies needed Ethan, thank you. They were gonna…" She then stopped and grabbed me around the waist, burying her head into my chest. In that moment she was a scared kid, I couldn't help but hold her close.

"Hey, it's okay. That's why I was here." I held Ivy for a minute until she was ready to let go.

"Sorry, it's just… well, I wish Rocky would have found those two first."

"Were these guys the same two who you ran into yesterday?" I asked, hoping that the answer would be 'no'.

"No, they were different guys."

"Then I reckon Rocky and Freckle took care of the other two, these guys just happened to be patrolling the same area."

"Do you think we'll see any more?"

"I can't say for certain, but surely Marigold would have agents stationed elsewhere in St. Louis, right? Four patrolling out in little ol' Defiance was a lot."

I could see that Ivy was wiping away tears despite the rain making us both wet, and a bit cold. "Here Miss Pepper, take my coat. Get into the truck and as soon as I've got their car out of the way, get going. I'll park Rocky's car where theirs pulled out of, then have one of the boys come back to retrieve it once we meet them.

It was a lot of work getting the two bodies propped up into the car, but soon enough the coupe was ready to roll. Commandeering the steering wheel, I moved the car out of the way, letting Ivy through in the farm truck. A brisk jog back to Rocky's car later, I had it out of the road and stashed in the ditch where it would be unassuming… at least until dawn. Getting back into the coupe, I followed the truck.

A Successful Night

Miles later, we were greeted with a friendly sight. Rocky and Freckle were sitting in the cab of the pie truck, pulled off the road in a clearing amongst a bunch of trees. Rocky spoke up as soon as we pulled in.

"Well, there's our smugglers! I trust our cargo made it without incident?"

"Booze is fine, but we most definitely had an 'incident' up the road." I then gestured to my two decomposing guests in the coupe. Rocky leaned in the window and looked the two over.

"Well, you do fine work, soldier boy. Great job!"

Ivy climbed out of the truck and immediately ran up to Freckle, kissing him in the rain, both soaking wet and covered in mud. Normally soft-spoken, Calvin seemed genuinely concerned.

"Ivy, what happened?"

"We… I got stopped by a couple of those goons from Marigold. But Ethan was there to take care of them. See?" She then gestured over to the coupe, and Freckle could see two figures motionless inside.

"Oh… Well, I'm so glad you're safe. I should have been there…"

"Nonsense." Ivy replied. "You've done your part, Ethan did his. Like Mr. Arbogast said, we're fine and you're fine."

I looked up to see the lovebirds sharing another kiss. I'll admit, part of me was a bit jealous of Freckle, but I could tell those two deserved each other. Besides, I was much too old… and broken, for a girl in her first year of college. We had a more pressing matter to figure out anyway.

"Okay genius, so we've got two bodies and a car to get rid of. What do you propose we do?"

"More importantly, Ethan, where's my car?"

"Back up the road a few miles. I parked it right where this thing was. We'll have to take the pie truck back there to retrieve it."

"Good, good. Excellent, even!" A lightning flash illuminated Rocky's face, revealing the deep wound and the crazed expression. Looking at the wheels turning in the tabby's head, fueled mostly by strong painkillers, I had a stroke of brilliance.

"Say Rocky, how far from the river are we?"

"There's a ferry landing right down that road." He said, pointing to a narrow single-lane dirt road that ran off behind the trucks.

"Perfect, let's drive this into the river, then get your car back."

"Capital idea! No car, no bodies, no problem!"

While Rocky got into the coupe and drove it down the trail toward the Missouri, I walked over to the two kids.

"Alright, Rocky and I will go get his car in the pie truck. You two should head back in the farm truck. Freckle, you've got some bullets left in that Thompson, right?"

His expression turned serious, and he gave me a nod. "Good. In that case, I'll see you both at Lackadaisy…"

A minute later I was watching the tail lights disappear into the darkness. I got back into the truck and waited. About twenty minutes later, Rocky emerged from the bushes covered in mud and sopping wet. He climbed into the passenger seat while I started up the engine. Looking over, I could see that he got river water into his wound.

"Hey, you better keep that clean, Rocky. Missouri river mud can't be good for that wound."

"Oh, Ethan, I'm sure the mud will be just fine! Though more of that stuff you gave me earlier would be even better! The clothes on the other hand… Aunt Nina isn't going to be very happy. But since when is a good, devout, Catholic woman ever pleased with a wayward son?"

"Yeah, I think we're going to have to cut back on that medicine before we fry what's left of your brain. And don't worry about the laundry, we'll all need to get our clothes clean tomorrow."

Coming back into the area I had just left, we eventually came upon Rocky's car, complete with bullet holes through the windows. "Oh yeah, we'll have to replace your windows as soon as possible."

At that point, Rocky was oddly quiet. Maybe the painkillers were starting to wear off, maybe it was just the late night turning into a very early morning, or perhaps the brain damage was starting to take effect. Either way, I welcomed the silence back, sitting alone in the cab of the pie truck. An hour and a half later, we were pulling in behind the Little Daisy Café. In the garage, we could see the band, sans Zib, unloaded our precious cargo. Up above, we saw Mitzi leaning out the window. Even from down here, Rocky and I could see a smile on her face. Her boys did her proud tonight.

After drying off and finding a change of clothes, Rocky and Freckle were off. Freckle needed to get home, and Rocky was going off to do whatever Rocky does. Cleaning his wound would just have to wait until tomorrow. As for Ivy… Another late night meant that sneaking back into the dorms might be a bad idea. Sure, they'd let her in, but the school would start asking questions, and that's the last thing we needed.

Instead, Ivy earned her self a hot bath and a comfortable spot on our couch. Riley was already asleep, so we let her be, and I climbed into bed, the only one who was simply wet and not muddy, so nothing a fresh towel couldn't fix. A tiring, exhausting night to be sure, but Lackadaisy would survive for another day. Tomorrow I'll once again be a cook, but tonight I was a rifleman again. A rapier among scythes.