Hunter's Run Part 21

257 "I know."

"Yeah. Well. Anyway, I was up there, and I landed my van at the river, right by this overhang. I figured it was like shelter, right? So, middle of the night, the f.u.c.king thing gives out. Must have been three, four tons of rock. Knocks my van right into the river."

Ramon slapped his palms together, the needle in his arm tugging at his flesh in a way that was disconcertingly familiar.

"I was lucky to get out alive," he said. The constable smiled coolly.

"You got in a fight?"

Ramon felt his chest tighten. The heart monitor to his left betrayed him, the blue LED numbers jumping to something just shy of a hundred. The constable almost suppressed a smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ramon said. "I thought you were here about the accident."

"The 'accident' left knife wounds in your side and your leg," the constable said. "Why don't you tell me about that."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t. That?" Ramon said and laughed. "No, man. That's my own dumb fault. I had my knife, out of the field kit. Used to make the raft. Anyway, I was trying to cut some vines, and I slipped. Fell right on it. I thought I was dead, you know?"

"So. No fighting?"

"Who's out there to fight with?" Ramon said. The blue numbers were slipping back down. The constable seemed unfazed.

"I notice that the field pack wasn't among the things recovered with you."

"Maybe it fell off the raft. I'm not so clear on those last couple days out there."

"Can you tell me where your van was when this landslide took it?"

"Nah. It was all logged on the computer. It wasn't the main river though. It was one of the tributaries." There might be a hundred places that would match the description. Proving Ramon was fullof s.h.i.+t just got a whole lot harder. The constable looked peeved.

You could tell him the truth, a small voice in the back of Ramon's mind murmured. Tell him about Maneck and the yunea, yunea, the the sahael, sahael, and the other Ramon. You could even give him proof. You could lead them all right up to that and the other Ramon. You could even give him proof. You could lead them all right up to that pinche pinche mountain and everything under it. mountain and everything under it.

They took you prisoner, tortured you, almost got you killed. You don't owe them s.h.i.+t. You've got no reason to lie.

Except that the man was a cop, and Ramon was a killer.

And besides which, f.u.c.k him.

The constable coughed, rubbed his chin. The subject was about to change. Ramon took a breath, trying not to do anything that would change the readings on his monitors. No wonder they wanted to question him here and not wait until he could get out.

"Do you know a woman named Justina Montoya?" the constable asked.

Ramon frowned, looking for the trap in the question. He shook his head.

"Don't think so," Ramon said.

"Calls herself Keiko. Maybe you know her by that name. She's the governor's secretary. She was showing the amba.s.sador around. Tour guide."

Ramon thought of the woman at the El Rey, the European's date.

The laughing woman. She'd straightened her hair to look Asian.

Maybe she would give herself a stupid name too.

"Don't think so, man," Ramon said.

"How about Johnny Joe Cardenas?"

"s.h.i.+t, man. Everyone knows Johnny Joe."

"He's a friend of yours?"

"He's not anybody's friend. I respect him. Like you respect a redjacket, you know?"

"He doesn't have a very good reputation, does he? I thought it was strange, then, when I heard that he'd gotten in a fight defend-259 ing Justina Montoya. He's not the sort of man to do something . . .

chivalrous like that."

The stink of danger made Ramon's skin crawl.

"Defend her from what?" Ramon asked. "Someone try to rape her?"

"Maybe," the cop said. "Maybe he would have defended her from that, even Johnny Joe. There were a lot of people there who said that the guy she was with was pus.h.i.+ng it with her pretty hard. A big shot.

Made some remarks. Twisted her arm when she tried to leave or something. And then Johnny Joe got into it. Maybe saved her."

The silence hung between them, pressing. Ramon's neck throbbed where the sahael sahael had bound him. The monitors chirped and hummed. He knows, Ramon thought. They grabbed Johnny Joe so they can show the Enye that they're on top of it, and this had bound him. The monitors chirped and hummed. He knows, Ramon thought. They grabbed Johnny Joe so they can show the Enye that they're on top of it, and this pendejo pendejo f.u.c.king well f.u.c.king well knows knows it's a frame. He's waiting for me to f.u.c.k up so they can grab me for it instead. it's a frame. He's waiting for me to f.u.c.k up so they can grab me for it instead.

"Weird, all right."

"Why do you think he'd do something like that?" the constable asked. "Put himself in harm's way to protect a woman he didn't even know?"

Come on. Tell me what a hero he was. Tell me how he defended the weak. Tell yourself what a good man you are, and maybe in the end, weak. Tell yourself what a good man you are, and maybe in the end, you can even let slip that the big man was really you and not Johnny you can even let slip that the big man was really you and not Johnny Joe. Joe. Ramon grinned. There was a time he might even have fallen for it. Ramon grinned. There was a time he might even have fallen for it.

"Man, you can't figure someone like Johnny Joe! You might as well not try, you know? He's like a whole different species."

The constable s.h.i.+fted his weight, annoyance flas.h.i.+ng in his eyes.

"Sorry I couldn't help you out," Ramon said. "I sure wish I knew old Johnny Joe better. You know, so I could help. But we just didn't hang out together much. Maybe the guy just p.i.s.sed him off, you know? Which was never hard to do. Maybe Johnny Joe just did agood thing for once in his life. Even a bada.s.s like him might not like to see some little girl getting slapped around, eh? Especially if maybe he had his eye on her himself." He exchanged level glances with the cop, who was looking sour. "There anything else? 'Cause I'm getting kinda tired."

"Maybe later," the constable said. "You were lucky, getting back to Fiddler's Jump. All that happened out there-the van getting destroyed, hurting yourself with the knife like that. It's really unbeliev-able."

Meaning that you don't believe me, Ramon thought. Ramon thought. Well, Well, prove prove something, and then come see me. a.s.shole. something, and then come see me. a.s.shole.

"I'm blessed," Ramon said, nodding like a pious idiot drunk on incense and communion wine. "Truly blessed. G.o.d ain't done with me yet, you know?"

"No, He's not. You take care, Senor Espejo. I'll be in touch if there's anything more I need to ask you."

"Anything I can do to help," Ramon said, almost sorry that the constable was rising from the bed. Ramon liked the feel of winning. There were a few more insincere pleasantries exchanged, and then the constable was gone. Ramon lay back against his pillow and thought his way through it all.

They knew that Johnny Joe, for all his failings as a good citizen and an upright human being, hadn't killed the European. He was just the convenient b.a.s.t.a.r.d to hang, the scapegoat-and if he was the wrong man, well, s.h.i.+t, at least he deserved it for some other other time when he'd killed and gotten away with it. The constable knew it was s.h.i.+t. h.e.l.l, the whole colony probably knew it was s.h.i.+t. But what were they gonna do? Tell the Enye that they'd screwed up? That they couldn't even catch the right man? That they'd time when he'd killed and gotten away with it. The constable knew it was s.h.i.+t. h.e.l.l, the whole colony probably knew it was s.h.i.+t. But what were they gonna do? Tell the Enye that they'd screwed up? That they couldn't even catch the right man? That they'd lied lied? That would be suicide. The investigation was closed. If Ramon didn't open it again for them, and he wasn't about to do that, it would stay closed.

Not that the eaters-of-the-young would care, one way or the 261 261 other. What humans did among themselves didn't matter, because humanity wasn't a species that the Enye cared about, except where they were useful. Impressing them with the colony's sense of law and justice and righteousness was like a pack of dogs trying to impress their catcher by howling in harmony. But the governor didn't know that, and so, perversely, the way that they all failed to understand the aliens around them was going to save Ramon's a.s.s. He might be the next one strung up when a convenient perpetrator was needed to take the fall for something, but this this time, for time, for this this murder, the government of the colony was going to give him a pa.s.s. What else could they do? murder, the government of the colony was going to give him a pa.s.s. What else could they do?

A weight lifted from him, and he laughed with the relief. His initial plan had worked. He'd been in the wilderness long enough that the problem had solved itself. He was safe now. He could feel it.

It was almost two weeks before Ramon found out what he'd overlooked.

Chapter 26.

Ramon walked out of the hospital eight days later, unsteady on atro-phied legs. He wore one of his white s.h.i.+rts and a pair of canvas pants that Elena had brought by one afternoon when he was asleep. The s.h.i.+rt was too big; wide across the shoulders and through the chest, a measure of how badly he had been reduced by his time in the wild and on the river. His new scars ached sometimes if he turned wrong.

The Enye s.h.i.+ps still hovered high above the planet, but here among the street vendors and the gypsy boats, the rheumy-eyed buskers with almost-tuned guitars and the truant children smoking cigarettes on the corners, the alien s.h.i.+ps seemed less of a threat.

He'd intended at first to make his way to Manuel Griego's shop.

Ramon was going to need a new van. He didn't have the money to buy one outright, and there wasn't a bank on the colony or off that would front him a loan big enough to cover the expense. That left 263 263 making deals, and Manuel was the one to start with. But his shop was far from the center of the city, at the edge of neighboring Nuevo Janeiro, where most of the Portuguese lived, and Ramon found himself growing tired more quickly than he'd expected. He had no money and only a temporary emergency identification chit from the hospital. More trivia that he'd have to address in the days ahead. At the moment, it meant that when he sat on the bench at the edge of the park, he could smell the sausages, onions, and peppers cooking on the cart's grill but couldn't buy any.

In a sense, this was the first time he'd seen his adopted hometown.

This particular pair of eyes had never looked down these narrow brown streets or at the faded yellow gra.s.s of the park. These particular ears hadn't heard the demanding blatting of the urban flatfurs, or the tapanos tapanos scolding from the tree branches on the edge of the ca.n.a.l like amphibious squirrels. Ramon tried to concentrate on how he felt about that, examining his own soul for unease or some sense of dislocation greater than usual. But what he really felt was tired, impatient, and p.i.s.sed off that he was too weak to walk to where he wanted to, and too broke to take a f.u.c.king pedicab or bus. scolding from the tree branches on the edge of the ca.n.a.l like amphibious squirrels. Ramon tried to concentrate on how he felt about that, examining his own soul for unease or some sense of dislocation greater than usual. But what he really felt was tired, impatient, and p.i.s.sed off that he was too weak to walk to where he wanted to, and too broke to take a f.u.c.king pedicab or bus.

The obvious place to go was Elena's. He didn't have any place else to sleep, and she'd brought him clothes, so the fight they'd been having when he left was probably forgotten. And she'd have food and maybe s.e.x if he was up for it.

He was half tempted to go to the El Rey first, thank Mikel Ibrahim for keeping that knife away from the police. But then he remembered again that he had no money, and trying to hustle a free beer seemed like a p.i.s.s-poor way to express grat.i.tude. Ramon took a long, deep breath-nostrils filling with the ozone stench of city air-and heaved himself back up from his bench. Elena's place it was. And with that, Elena.

It wasn't a long walk, but it felt that way. When he reached the butcher's shop that squatted below her apartment, Ramon felt like he'd tracked a full day through the underbrush, Maneck at his side.

He wondered, as he made his way up the dingy, dank-smelling stairs, what Maneck would think of this wide, flat human hive that lay open to the sky. He thought the alien would think it naive, like kyi-kyi grazing in a meadow where a chupacabra chupacabra was sunning itself. The Enye s.h.i.+ps stuttered in and out of existence high above, vanis.h.i.+ng only for a moment before returning. was sunning itself. The Enye s.h.i.+ps stuttered in and out of existence high above, vanis.h.i.+ng only for a moment before returning.

At the top of the stairs, Ramon punched in the code, hoping that Elena hadn't changed it in a fit of pique when he'd slipped out on her. Or if she had, that she'd changed it back. And when the last number s.h.i.+fted the status light to green, the bolt clicking audibly and the hinges hissing as the door swung open, Ramon knew he'd been forgiven.

Elena wasn't home, but the cabinets were stocked with food.

Ramon opened a can of black bean soup-one of the self-heating kind-and ate it with a beer. It tasted of the heating element, but not so much that he didn't enjoy the meal. The couch smelled of old smoke and cheap incense. The afternoon light showed all the dirt on the windows; skitterlings scurried across the ceiling, the char-nel stink of the butcher's shop tainted the air. Ramon lay back on the couch, his limbs heavy. He let his eyes close for a moment and opened them again in panic. Something had him, strangling him, pulling him off the ground. Ramon had c.o.c.ked back a fist, ready to kill the alien or his twin or the sahael sahael or the or the chupacabra chupacabra or the cop before his muzzy brain recognized the shrill squealing. Not an alarm. or the cop before his muzzy brain recognized the shrill squealing. Not an alarm.

Not a battle shriek. Elena, delighted.

"f.u.c.k," he breathed, but softly enough that even with her head pressed against his she didn't seem to hear him. The threat of violence pa.s.sed. Elena pulled back from him, her eyes wide, her mouth in a little knot like she was trying to make her lips look like a baby doll's. She wasn't bad-looking.

"You didn't tell me you were getting out," she said, half accusing, half pleased and surprised.

265 "They didn't tell me for sure until today," Ramon lied. "Besides, what were you gonna do? Miss work?"

"I would have. Or I could have got someone to come get you. Fly you home."

"I can walk," Ramon said with a shrug. "It's not far."

She put her hand around his chin, jiggling his head like he was a baby. Her eyes were merry. It was an expression he knew, and his poor abused p.e.n.i.s stirred slightly.

"Big macho guy like you doesn't need any help, eh? I know you, Ramon Espejo. I know you better than you do! You're not so tough."

I cut off my own finger stump, he didn't say, in part because it hadn't exactly been him him and in part because there wasn't any point in telling her anything. It was and in part because there wasn't any point in telling her anything. It was Elena, Elena, after all. Bats.h.i.+t-crazy, even if she was in her good place right now. He couldn't trust her, not any more than she could trust him. Whatever meaning she attributed to his silence, it wasn't what he was thinking. She smiled, s.h.i.+fting her body from side to side. after all. Bats.h.i.+t-crazy, even if she was in her good place right now. He couldn't trust her, not any more than she could trust him. Whatever meaning she attributed to his silence, it wasn't what he was thinking. She smiled, s.h.i.+fting her body from side to side.

"I missed you," she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Ramon felt a twinge of pain in his groin and stepped back.

"Jesus Christ," he said. "They only took that thing out of my c.o.c.k a few days ago, woman. I'm not healed up down there yet."

"Yeah?" she said. "That hurts? What about this?"

She did something very pleasant, and it did hurt, only not enough to tell her to stop.

The next few days were better than Ramon had expected them to be. Elena was away at work most of the day, leaving him to sleep and catch the news. At night, they screwed and listened to music and watched the half-a.s.sed telenovelas telenovelas they made down in Nuevo Janeiro. He made himself walk as long as he could, never straying too far from the apartment, in case the weakness came on quickly. they made down in Nuevo Janeiro. He made himself walk as long as he could, never straying too far from the apartment, in case the weakness came on quickly.

His strength came back faster than he expected. His weight wa.s.still down; he looked like a f.u.c.king twig. But he was coming back.

He was getting better. He told Elena the story-the one he'd made up-over and over. It wasn't long before he half believed it himself.

He remembered the roar of the stone as it came down, the shuddering of the van. He remembered racing out into the cool northern night and watching his ride washed into the river. If it hadn't happened, so what? The past was what you made it.

The only thing that marred the time was the small voice in his head reminding him of what had really happened, and what he had heard and thought. In the early hours of the morning, when Elena was still fast asleep, Ramon found himself waking and unable to fall back into slumber. His mind returned to the realization that his twin could have done better with Elena, that even that sad sack of s.h.i.+t he'd dropped into the river had been a better man than he made himself out to be. He had meant to break things off with her when he came back, but here he was. Drinking her beer, smoking her cigarettes, spreading her legs.

When things got bad again, he told himself. he told himself. No point ending things No point ending things when they were still good. when they were still good.

And, like a ghost, there was Lianna. He remembered the way his twin had told the story-all bravado and bl.u.s.ter, none of the real pain. The loss. He was coming to understand better now why it came out the way it had. It hadn't only been to avoid the appearance of weakness before another man. He needed to tell it to himself himself that way too. And that was harder for Ramon to do now that he had seen all that he'd seen. He kept meaning to go see Griego, but he never quite got around to it. that way too. And that was harder for Ramon to do now that he had seen all that he'd seen. He kept meaning to go see Griego, but he never quite got around to it.

Almost a week after Ramon had left the hospital, he woke before dawn, haunted by dreams he couldn't remember. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and, as quietly as he could, took Elena's good whiskey from its hiding place behind the kitchen cabinet. It took him three drinks and almost an hour to get the courage to open a link to 267 267 the city directory and search for her. But there she was. Lianna Del-gado. Still a cook, but at a new place now. Her address was down by the river. He'd probably walked past it a hundred times, stumbling back from the bars. He wondered if she'd ever seen him, and if she had, what she'd thought. Elena mumbled something and s.h.i.+fted in her sleep. Ramon killed the link, but the idea that had taken root out there in the wilderness was growing again in the city.

He had wanted to be someone new, had been ready to be someone new. Start again. So why not now? All the things he had done and suffered could pa.s.s away from him just as easily now with his old name and face and self as they might have had his twin lived. It only meant doing the things that needed to be done: leave Elena, find a new place for himself, a new van to work with, some other way of being himself. Himself like he'd always been, only better. And then, when he was cleaned up and solid, when he had something in the bank and didn't have to beg off a woman just to keep from sleeping in the pinche pinche park, Lianna was in the directory. He could call her or, if he had the b.a.l.l.s, go to her house like a schoolboy singing at his lover's window. He was Ramon Espejo, after all. He was a tough sonofab.i.t.c.h. The worst that would happen was that Lianna would turn him away, and if it broke his heart, so what? He was strong enough to make a new one. A better one. park, Lianna was in the directory. He could call her or, if he had the b.a.l.l.s, go to her house like a schoolboy singing at his lover's window. He was Ramon Espejo, after all. He was a tough sonofab.i.t.c.h. The worst that would happen was that Lianna would turn him away, and if it broke his heart, so what? He was strong enough to make a new one. A better one.

In the next room, Elena yawned and stretched. Ramon took one last clandestine pull at the whiskey bottle and silently returned it to its place, rinsing the gla.s.s out before slipping into the bathroom to brush the scent from his breath. If Elena found out he'd been breaking into the good stuff without her, there'd be h.e.l.l to pay.

"Hey, baby," he said as she shambled into the kitchen. Her hair was in disarray and her jaw set a little forward.

"You couldn't make some f.u.c.king coffee?" she replied. "I feel like s.h.i.+t."

"You should stay home," he said. "Take a day off."

"It's Sunday, a.s.shole."

"Sit," Ramon said, gesturing to the cheap plastic-and-chitin chair at her kitchen table. "I'll make you some food, eh?"