Read Online Early Byrd by Phil Geusz - Free Book Online Page B

getting
weaker."
    I nodded and turned the paper over. "Five of
them," I countered. "Two guards, Sam, Yukon, Linda." Then I folded
it all back together and, making use of the darkness along the
wall-side of the bed, passed the package upward into my brother's
waiting hand.
    "Five is too many," he agreed. "Have to
separate them. I don't see any other way. Do you?"
    "No other way," I agreed. Then a sick
sensation washed over me. "We're going to have to kill them, I think. Just like
deer, or coyotes. Dead forever. Don't want to.”
    "Yeah," my brother agreed, this time on a
new, larger sheet. The other was too scribbled-up by now. "Dad
always told us we might have to kill people someday if we joined
the army or the police or something. And that it was okay so long
as we were for-sure certain there was no other way. Because some
things are even worse than killing,"
    "This is kinda like the army," I wrote back.
"And police both, I guess. We're being held hostage."
    “ Hostages twice over!" Tim
pointed out. "But they said we hafta go with Rapput or else the war
might start again. We'll all die if that happens. Everyone
everywhere, even though these Free State guys can't see it. So
that's what we should do, even if we have to kill people. It's the
least-bad way."
    "These guys are stupid! " I agreed in
my reply, underlining the word over and over again. "We aren't
going to be able to talk sense to them. Not even Mom or Dad
could."
    "It'll help us get out, them being stupid,"
Tim replied. "A lot." Then he began a new line. "We need to rest,
eat too. Even Li, Rapput need rest. After food is the best time. We
may not eat again for a while.”
    "There's no indoor plumbing," I wrote back.
"That's maybe how we could divide them?"
    "I'll get sick," he agreed. "Then we'll make
our move outside and fake it from there. Kill if we have to, but
not if we don't?"
    I stuck my head out where he could see and
nodded, then put aside my last reservations. Right was right, Mom
used to tell us. And we were clearly in the right. Just because
parts of it were likely to be pretty awful didn't make it
not-right. Which in turn meant we should approach this just like
any other hunt, in order to give us the best odds possible. "It's
my turn to pull the trigger."
    "Not!" he replied. "The doe ran away before
I could shoot."
    I smiled as I read his words; Tim loved being the one to take the important shots, and I loved
to prod him about it. Well, this time we'd see what developed.
"Night, Timmy!" I said aloud.
    "Night, Robert," he replied.
    All the planning that could be done, was
done. Perhaps Rapput was right about my brother and I being among
our kind's foremost natural warriors, even though we were still
just kids. After all, kids our age and even younger had fought for
their tribes and nations as long back as anyone could remember.
Though Dad would've just called us healthy, independent-minded
Montana ranch boys, and that was probably a lot closer to the
truth.
    ***
    Sam kept his word, kind of. He did indeed
faithfully wake us up when it was flapjack time. The meal wasn't
ready until one in the afternoon, however, which meant we slept
away a lot more of the day than we'd have liked.
    Still, we made the best of things. No matter
what her other shortcomings as a human being might be—I'd never, ever forgive her for the way she'd kicked Rapput's shattered
arm while he was helpless—Linda was indeed a competent backwoods
cook. Though I hate to say it, her flapjacks were even better than
Mom's. Or maybe it was the syrup made from real maple trees, a fact
that Yukon emphasized over and over again. Apparently it was part
of his national pride. Even the poutine wasn't too bad, though
neither my brother nor I had ever eaten anything but ketchup on
fried potatoes before. While the gravy and curds were fine, the
conversation was what was really interesting.
    "…can't keep them here forever, Sam," Yukon
pointed out as he sopped up his surplus gravy with one of