Bounty Hunter

Chapter 39

The garbage bales stacked in the car gave the air a heavy, cloying odor that made it impossible to get a decent breath. Worse, the garbage was compacted, which meant that anything that could've been of value, like a partial bottle of water or a half-eaten protein bar, would've been crushed beyond use.

Sloan had taken his armlet along with his exoshield, so he had no way to pull up a map of Shiprock and the train routes. He also had no idea of time, not that knowing the time would do him any good until he learned where and when the next stop would be. If he was a gambler, he'd sit this game out, but he wasn't, and he had to get back to Cavil to find Nick and Romy, and to rescue Sara.

Joe watched Terry's depressed expression as the prisoner stared at the floor of the dimly lit cargo car. Joe knew that were two types of people: those who gave orders and those who took orders. It was pretty obvious which type Terry was.

"Don't worry about the murcs. We'll be long gone before we get to the next stop," Joe said.

Terry's features brightened. "Really?"

Joe held up a hand. "It's not as easy as it sounds. First, we need to figure out when and where the next stop is. And, we need to figure out if there're any towns between here and there because we won't last long out there without water. With my injuries, I can't do the legwork that's needed; I'm going to need your help."

Terry nodded. "What do I need to do?"

Joe pushed to his feet and winced. The painkiller was wearing off, and his wounds would soon be hurting worse than before. He leaned against the wall, eyed the door for a moment, then looked up. "Cargo cars are designed to open from the top for loading. These side doors are only used when people have to unload cargo manually. There has to be a way to open the roof from inside."

"Okay," Terry said, and he practically jumped into action. As he moved garbage bales, he said, "You know, Joe. I've never met anyone like you before."

Joe paused while he searched a wall. "A bounty hunter?"

Terry shook his head. "No. A bona fide hero. I've heard about them, but I've never met someone who put others' needs before their own. You saved my life, Joe."

Joe chortled. "I needed a crutch. You were the easiest sucker to convince."

Terry eyed Joe with a straight face. "I'm serious. You're a hero."

Joe frowned. "Trust me. You don't know the stuff I've done in my life. I'm no hero, and calling me one is akin to calling a beggar a banker."

If Terry's enthusiasm was injured by this remark, he didn't show it. No longer focused on Joe, he'd climbed up a stack of bales. "Hey, I found it!"

A second later, the entire roof of the cargo car retracted. A fresh, albeit hot, wind hit Joe's face, and he sucked in a deep breath. "Good work, kid."

Terry sat on top of the garbage bales for several moments, his face in the wind. When he came back down, he had a smile on his face. "What do you want me to do now?"

"This next bit will be tricky," Joe said. "I need you to climb up on top of the train cars and walk all the way to the engine, which is at the very front of the train. You'd better be careful because this train is traveling at well over two hundred miles per hour."

Terry's eyes grew wider and wider. "You want me to walk across the top of a train going two hundred miles per hour?"

"Crawling may be easier, but we don't have time to waste. When you get to the engine, its roof may or may not open, but I know it'll have a side door. There'll be a panel in there with all the details on the train, its schedule, everything. There has to be one in case the automated systems fail, and an engineer has to enter the engine to work on it. I need you to get inside, find out how much time we have before the next stop, and the two towns between us and that stop."