CHAPTER EIGHT

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“What’ll we do, Jackson?” Lindsay cried.

“Relax,” Rainhorse replied. “It is an ambulance. They just want to get around us. Now get down in the floorboard.”

Rainhorse pulled the truck off the road to the right, allowing the ambulance to pass.  He proceeded slowly past the diner, as any citizen might do who was curious about why police lights were flashing at the diner.  Through the window he saw two tribal police officers inside, talking to who appeared to be a diner employee.  Neither of the tribal officers he saw gave even a passing glance to the copper Chevy truck as it lumbered slowly by the diner. Once the diner faded into the horizon in his side mirror he told Lindsay she could get up from the floor board.

“Ok, we have about an hour’s drive,” Rainhorse said, firmly. “Tell me how you found me and what the hell you are doing here.”

Lindsay’s eyes flared, “Nice attitude. It’s good to see you, too,” she snarled. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Welcome? For what?”

“That guy was going to kill you back there,” she said. “He would have done so if I hadn’t shot him.”

“May I remind you that the whole reason I was in a position to be killed was because of you in the first place.  You almost got me shot. And by the way, both of my targets got away scot-free . . . because of your unexpected appearance.  You cost me the element of surprise. It was my biggest advantage and now it is gone. They will dig in and surround themselves with security. This has been a huge setback.”

Lindsay sighed in exasperation, “I didn’t have any idea you were in the middle of something. Otherwise I would have never . . .”

“I do not want to hear it,” he interrupted. “There is no excuse for a girl your age to enter a strange tavern by yourself.  And then to come to a trucker’s diner on an Indian reservation when you have no idea . . .” He paused, sighing, “I am done talking.”

Lindsay’s face stiffened. She took in a breath and held it. Her eyes began to moisten, “Well . . .  excuse me for caring about your dumb Cheyenne ass. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Suits me,” he snapped. “I will probably live longer as a result.”

“Fine!” she said.

“Fine yourself,” Rainhorse repeated.

“You know . . . I hate you right now,” Lindsay spouted.

Lindsay’s words paralyzed him, as if she had shot a dagger into his heart. She noticed that his normally unflappable expression had softened, saddening. She instantly regretted saying it.

She turned her head, looking out the window silently cursing herself. She wanted to take it back right then and there but she didn’t know what she would say. They rode in silence for close to five minutes.

“How did you find me, anyway?” he asked, finally.

“I hired a private investigator,” she said. “He’s been looking for you for two years.”

“So, I must have made some mistake along the line,” he replied.

Lindsay nodded, “You used the same burner phone that you used to call 9-1-1 on the day you got shot up.”

Rainhorse sighed, “That was two years ago. I thought after all this time, it was safe. That still doesn’t explain how you knew to go to the Blue Buffalo Tavern.”

“The investigator pulled all the recent police records in the area and found where you had sent some shit-kicker to the hospital by kicking his ass at the Blue Buffalo,” Lindsay said. “Really, Jackson, your temper is going to be your undoing.”

“And you flew here and went into a tavern by yourself?” Rainhorse exclaimed. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“How else was I going to find you?”

“How the hell did you convince Vern Gill to tell you where I’d be?”

“I paid him in cash.”

“You pulled out cash in a dive bar? This is just getting worse and worse,” he huffed. “I gave you credit for being a lot smarter than this.”

“You know what . . . rather than saying something I will regret, it’s probably a better idea for me to just shut up.”

 “You could have gotten yourself hurt,” he continued.

“I think we should just call a mutual time out,” she responded.

He rolled his eyes, “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Fine,” she snipped.

“Fine,” Rainhorse agreed.

She glared at him and then turned her head away again. They drove in silence for close to five minutes.

“Where did you get those clothes?” he asked, breaking the silence. “You look like a hobo.”

“I was trying to not attract attention,” she told him.

“Lindsay, you’re female and you are white,” he spouted. “It was a truck-stop diner on an Indian Reservation.  You are going to attract attention . . . period.”

“I had no choice,” she said. “This was the only place Gill knew where you’d be. It was now or never.”

“Never would have been better,” he replied. He instantly caught himself as he saw the reaction on her face. He knew he had gone too far, but she had acted irresponsibly and had nearly scared him to death. He’d almost lost her forever.

She gave no response. She sat there, choking up; tears forming in her eyes.

Rainhorse shook his head and sighed. They drove in silence again.

After another mile, Lindsay perked up when she recognized a young woman walking alongside the road.

“Slow down, Jackson,” she said.

“What for?”

“The girl walking on the side of the road—it’s Ska, the diner waitress.”

“So?” he asked.

“So, she tried to help me back at the diner—she kept warning me.  Look at her, she’s all alone.  She’s only wearing a light sweatshirt and shorts.  She’s freezing.”

“We don’t have time to mess around with her,” Rainhorse said.

“We can’t just pass her by,” Lindsay exclaimed. “Stop now.  I mean it.”

Rainhorse slowed alongside the woman. When Ska noticed the truck, she began to quicken her pace, “I don’t need a ride,” she said.

“Ska, it’s me, Lindsay . . . from the diner.”

Ska stopped, “You’re alive. Thank god. I thought for sure . . . ”

“You must be cold out here,” Lindsay said. “It’s dark out. What are you doing walking along this road?”

“When the shooting started, my ride took off without me,” Ska said.

“Get in. We’ll give you a lift.”

“Lindsay, no!” Rainhorse objected.

“She tried to help me, Jackson,” Lindsay barked. “We’re not going to leave her out in the middle of nowhere.”

Rainhorse rolled his eyes as Lindsay slid to the middle of the truck’s bench seat and motioned Ska inside. Rainhorse hit the gas as soon as the door was closed.

“Are you all right?” Lindsay asked. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m just shaken up a bit?”

“How far away to you live?” Lindsay asked.

“I can’t go home,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because Rattling Thunder knows me,” she said. “He sells crank to my boyfriend and I.”

“What does that have to do with you not being able to go home?” Rainhorse asked.

“Apollo and HRT saw me warning Lindsay,” she replied. “They won’t forget it.”

“Jesus,” Lindsay said. “Do you have family or friends you can stay with?”

She shook her head, “My father is dead. My mother is also one of Apollo’s customers. They all know where to find me. When they find me, I’m screwed.  I will be lucky if all they do is send me to the hospital.”

“Where were you going, if you can’t go home?” Lindsay asked.

“I don’t know . . . just away from the diner,” she replied. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I have no place to go.”

“You’re staying with us, then,” Lindsay said, “until we get this all sorted.”

“No, she is not,” Rainhorse said. “May I remind you that we are currently being sought by the authorities. Taking Ska with us is not an option.”

“Yes, it is. We just do it.”

“Lindsay, I said no. We are in serious trouble here. I am trying to get us to safety. We owe nothing to this girl.”

“What do you plan to do—just dump her?”

“The side road Neha told us to take is just ahead,” Rainhorse said. “There is a small town less than a mile away. We will let her off here. She was born and raised on the res. She will be fine.”

“She will not be fine,” Lindsay protested.

Rainhorse pulled off to the side of the road and stopped, “I’m sorry, miss. I really am, but we cannot take you with us.”

Ska broke down in tears, covering her eyes with her right hand, exposing the needle marks in her thin, frail arm.  Lindsay opened the door and got out with Ska. She put her arm around the thin Sioux woman and began walking down the road.

“Get back in the truck, Lindsay,” Rainhorse yelled.

“I told you, I’m not leaving her behind,” Lindsay yelled back.

Rainhorse leaned over the seat, grabbed the door handle and closed the door. He drove slowly to catch up with Lindsay and Ska.

“I have no time for one of your games, Lindsay,” he barked through the window. “There is much more at stake here than you know. The entire well-being of the reservation is at stake. This thing I am working on is bigger than you or I. Now quit messing around and get back in the truck.”

“Piss off, Jackson,” she said. “I’m not leaving her. If you have to go, then go.”

“I cannot stay,” he said, stiffly. “There is too much at stake. I am warning you.  I will leave.”

She stopped momentarily, “What’s happened to you? You are not the same person who saved my life two years ago. What happened to that guy, anyway?”

“Lindsay, you have no idea why I am here,” he replied, pleading. “I am trying to help these people on the res.”

“You sure couldn’t prove it by me,” she said, nodding toward Ska.

“Fine,” Rainhorse blurted. “I cannot wait any longer. I am giving you five seconds to get back in the truck or I will take off.”

“Can I bring Ska?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need five seconds.  Goodbye.”

“Fine . . . you spoiled little snot. Goodbye and good luck.”

Rainhorse popped the clutch and hit the gas, burning rubber as he sped away.

“You’re one crazy white bitch,” Ska said as the truck sped away. “I’m pretty much screwed, but you? You won’t last twenty-four hours on the res by yourself.”

“Don’t worry,” Lindsay said. “He’ll be back in five minutes or less.”

“I don’t think so,” Ska said. “He was pissed.”

“Look, I may not know the things you know but I know a lot about men, especially this man,” she said. “He’ll be back—five minutes, tops.”

She checked the time on her phone and showed it to Ska.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Jackson is actually one of the finest men you’ll ever meet,” she said. “He’d never leave me out here—not in a million years. He’s pissed at me. I’m pissed too, right now, but we could never stay mad at each other for long. This is the only way I could be sure he’d let you come with us?”

Ska looked at her, very confused, “You mean, you’re manipulating him?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” she replied, as if it went without saying.

“That’s a dangerous game, girlfriend,” Ska said.

“With some, perhaps,” she admitted. “Not with Jackson. I know what I’m doing. We haven’t formerly met, by the way. I’m Lindsay Vanderbilt.”

“Ska Red Feather,” she replied. “Thank you for what you are doing, even if he doesn’t come back.”

“He’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Ahead of her, headlights appeared coming toward them. She heard the familiar sound of the clunky old truck. It was Rainhorse. Lindsay smiled at Ska and looked at her cell.

“Three minutes, twenty-two seconds,” Lindsay noted with a small smirk.

Ska returned the smile, revealing darkened teeth common among meth users.

Rainhorse drove past them, turned around and pulled alongside them. He stopped. He leaned over and opened the passenger door, saying nothing. He simply looked ahead and sat there with a scowl on his face. Lindsay stepped aside, allowing Ska to get in first. She winked at the Cheyenne waitress.