The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

164: Iniquity of the Father

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Rosie by Melissa Zayas. All graphics by me.

Rosie didn't care if the rain fell all night if it meant she'd be able to stay longer at the station, with the fire warmly burning in the cozy parlor and in the company of none other than Luis Santana, Pony Express rider. She wondered where Tommy and Mr. Peltier had disappeared to, but she wasn't sorry they seemed to be taking their time joining them. She found she rather liked being alone besides a warm fire with Luis while the rain poured down outside.

So she was taken completely off guard when Tommy, minus his glasses, stumbled into the parlor, spattering blood and rainwater onto the wooden floor and slipping down to his knees. His shirt was soaking wet and dyed with ominous pink and red stains. Her mouth dropped open and she leaped to her feet, vaguely aware of Luis doing the same thing beside her .

What on earth is happening? That's blood! Oh, my...

"W...we...we have to go," Tommy gasped, grabbing weakly at the doorframe with fingers slick with blood from a lacerated wrist.

Luis scrambled to his side, grasping his shoulder to steady him. "What the hell...?

"He thinks I ran to the...the barn." Tommy's face was ashen beneath the thick streaks of bright red running across his face and staining his soaked shirt. "He might come h...h...here looking for me...we have to help Storm....do you have your...your...your pistol?"

"Tommy! You ain' makin' any sense!" Luis fumbled his bandanna out of his pocket and pressed it to Tommy's bleeding brow.

"G...get away from the windows." Tommy fell forward into Luis' arms, fighting dizziness and weakness. "He...he..." He took a deep breath, collecting himself, and tried again. "He doesn't know you're here," he said carefully. "Don't let him see us."

Rosie found herself hauling Tommy's arm over her shoulders before she even knew she was moving. She didn't have to ask who'd done this to him. She knew. He's here. He's here for them. Terror shot through her like a thunderclap. It's happened. He's hurt Tommy and done something horrible to Mr. Peltier...

Tommy lurched against her as he tried to get his legs under him, his eyes starting to lose their focus. She gasped, tightening her grip on him as Luis hauled him up by his other arm, keeping him upright. "Nononono..." Luis protested. "Stay with us, muchacho, don' pass out..." He gave Tommy a rough shake. "What...where's....?"

"He's here!" Rosie whispered urgently. "That man is here! The one I told you about!"

Luis's head snapped around, his gaze meeting hers, and she saw him realize what she was saying. His mouth dropped open. His eyes never left Rosie's face as he mumbled, "No, Tommy, I ain't got my pistol."

Tommy's head was hanging limply between them, his voice barely audible. "He's got Storm...he might have...Wash might be...he might be..."

"Madre di Dios...vámonos, mi hermano." Luis grunted, shouldering Tommy's increasingly limp weight and straightening up. "Help me with him, senorita ." While Tommy wasn't particularly heavy, he was slightly taller than either of them, and they ended up mostly dragging him on their way out into the windowless hall that ran the length of the downstairs. She threw an arm around the injured youth's waist, horrified at the chilly sweat dampening his skin, at his inability to coordinate his feet. He's cut bad across the forehead, her mind raced. No telling how much blood he's lost...

"Stay awake, Tommy," Luis pleaded as they stumbled down the dimly lit hallway, to where the front door hung open onto the porch beyond. The rain was roaring across the tin roof. "You got to tell me what happened!"

Tommy groaned, his head lolling against Rosie's shoulder. His voice was a faltering whisper in her ear. "The kitchen fire..he set it...there's soot all over the hand...handcuffs...."

"What?" She stared. Between his stammer and his semi-conscious state, Tommy was nearly incoherent. "Tommy...what?"

"Storm. He's gonna burn Storm."

Rosie stared hard at Luis, shaking her head in horror. She could feel Tommy's pulse fluttering weakly against her hand like a trapped butterfly trying to escape. "Luis!" She readjusted her grip. "He might be bleeding out, we've got to lay him down somewhere and tend to him!"

Luis' dark eyes swam in his uncharacteristically pale face. "How do we...Bender and Miz Lily ain't here...how do we..."

"I don't know either," she said frantically. She saw with a wave of panic that Tommy's eyes had shuttered closed and he'd gone completely limp. "But we have to do something! Tommy! Please wake up!" They couldn't very well leave him alone like this...but they could hardly abandon Mr. Peltier if he needed help, either. Her legs were shaking. "Luis, upstairs?"

"Ah, me cago en todo. Tommy!" Luis gritted his teeth. "No. We're going to the bunkhouse."

"We're going to drag him unconscious though the rain with...with...that horrible man out there?"

"Si," Luis breathed. "Vámonos."

"Luis..."

"It ain't safe in the house, Miz Rosie," Luis said, his jaw set as he grabbed Tommy under his arms and dragged him towards the open front door. "Get his feet. Bunkhouse has stone walls, a sod roof, and no glass windows. We can lock it up tight as a bankroll safe. And... there's weapons out there. And I'll need 'em to go get my brother."

Rosie grabbed Tommy's ankles and helped Luis drag him, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other in the sticky mud of the station yard. Water instantly soaked through the thin leather of her shoes, the mud sucking at her every step.

"And there's something else," Luis grunted breathlessly as he stepped off the porch into the cold rain, hauling his crewmate and Rosie along after. "Hard as it's raining, no way it's gonna get set on fire like the kitchen did. Sssh, now, senorita. We got to sneak."

The water sluicing over Rosie's face was cold, making her gasp. It deadened sound as well as visibility, and she hoped it might hide them long enough to get to relative safety. Thoughts of her father, and how angry he'd be were driven from her mind and replaced with one thought...you sent this terrible man out here, Father. And then you tried to use me as a spy. Against my friends. Tommy's dead weight strained her shoulders as she helped Luis carry him through the darkness. You did this. You and your hateful wife and her creepy, nasty brother. Rage rolled through her, white hot and tasting of acid and burnt biscuits. Either I'm going to die along with Lynch's boys in this mess you made...or I'm going to undo it.

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