Роберт Уилсон - Days Since... - Thomas - Day 758

“What do you think?” Eric asked.

“It’s definitely them, but they look like a couple of accountants in these pictures. Crazy how things change once you’re exposed to this kind of lawlessness. They probably never held a gun before two years ago.”

“I was an accountant before all this.” Eric snatched the necklace from Thomas’s grasp, stuffed it in his pocket, and turned abruptly away from him.

“Really?” Thomas asked.

Eric looked over his shoulder, smiling. “No.”

Thomas shook his head, trying hard not to laugh.

“We need to wrap up here and move on.” He eyed one of his men and spoke up. “Hey! Head over to our group, let them know we’re good, and have a couple of those scavengers respond over here and sort through this mess.”

“Try and find James here another shirt to wear before they start picking through everything,” the medic added his concern.

Thomas began sorting through the nest of clothing in the corner. This is actually decent. He set the shirt off to the side for James. He held a few other pieces in front of him, but cast the rest aside. “This stuff is junk. I’ll leave your guys to it. Maybe they’ll see value in it that I don’t.” Thomas sprung from the boxcar and pitched the shirt over to James as he passed him. I’m just going to take another look at this guy.

The man’s body still lay motionless below the watchtower from which he was thrown. Thomas went to ensure nothing was left with the man’s body—after all, he wouldn’t need it. “Where’s his firearm?”

“I got it. You want it?”

“No, let Eric’s crew take it.” Thomas started to pick through the pockets. Nothing still. What a waste… Thomas scratched the back of his head. This is getting out of hand. James just isn’t getting it. If he wants to get himself killed that’s one thing, but— Shit, he’s not going to lose this for me and Joseph. Once we’re away from Eric’s crew, I have to straighten him out. This makes too many close calls already. This is ridiculous. Can’t follow simple instructions. Almost got killed. Twice! Thomas looked over to James while he stood there chatting with the medic. He was smiling. Nothing seemed to take with him. He just doesn’t seem to give a shit.

There was nothing else on the body. Any other valuables would be in the boxcar or socked away somewhere these two dead souls would never be able to share. “You about ready, James?”

“So… We’re letting them take everything from here?” He seemed annoyed by the idea, glaring at Thomas as he approached.

“Taking this stuff is not our mission. We need to focus on our job and let them do theirs. They’re completely capable of handling this from here.” Thomas bumped fists with Eric. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“…but I don’t get why. It’s like you’re running on borrowed time, man,” Thomas said while peering back occasionally. Each time James’s head sank lower and lower into his chest. He was falling behind—the two of them trudging up the steep incline of Probasco St. “If I can’t trust you to listen or to have some damn patience when it’s needed, I don’t know how the hell we do this.” The thought of leaving him behind kept playing in his head. This idea seemed like the right thing to do. He couldn’t allow James to prevent him from his own goals, even though the two were supposed to be striving for the same thing. “I’m not trying to lecture you man, but damn… What the hell else can I say? You’re too damn impulsive.”

James muttered a response that sounded more like the growling of a hungry dog.

“I don’t get you,” Thomas said. “You’ve always kind of been a free-spirit or whatever, but now your carelessness is getting you hurt. Worse than that, I can’t have you do something stupid again and get someone killed. I think you’re involvement in this is over—”

“Look! So yeah, maybe I was trying to do too much, but…” James trailed off.

“No. Come on. Give me that classic James excuse.”

James sighed. “Maybe I haven’t changed, but neither have you. Still the same Thomas, afraid to make decisions. So yeah, sometimes I make ’em for you. Is that what you want to hear? Sorry. Sorry I saved your life.”

“Don’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re even now after your fuckup in the train yard. Now, I don’t owe you shit—certainly not this mission. If this is so important to you, then suck it up. Act like it!”

They walked in silence through a few more intersections before James switched gears. “My bad, man. I do need this promotion… just like you.”

Thomas could hear James’s rucksack shifting along his back as he picked up his pace, bringing himself shoulder to shoulder with Thomas.

“I’m on board.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Thomas didn’t even bother to look over to him.

“It means we’re a team,” James said.

Thomas broke his stride, stopping to glare at him. “You better promise me more than that.”

“Alright…” James looked him in the eye. He deflated right there as he stood, letting out a long breath of air. “I’ll follow your lead from here on out.”

“We’ll see.” Thomas stepped off again. “If things don’t change, tomorrow you’ll be sitting on the sidelines of this operation.”

All James could manage was to keep his head down and his mouth shut.

Finally.

They crested the hill—an echo of laughter alerted them to the presence of others. Thomas drew his pistol and broke for a row of hedges on the cool side of a large church that overlooked the corner. James, in his newfound obedience, hustled over and crouched down beside him.

Thomas took out his binoculars, holding his pistol between his legs as he knelt, and took a cursory scan of what might be awaiting them. A man pulled a child’s wagon down the street as he chatted loudly with another, both of them seemingly unaware of the fact they were being watched. What the hell? How can these people act out in the open like this? They’re probably not a threat. “When they get out of view we’ll head across the street to that building there.”

“We could set up on the roof and get some good Intel on the park,” James offered.

Thomas nodded, his mind drawn to discovering what had grabbed the two men’s attention as they were now turned, watching another man run toward them—the newcomer yelling, “Hey! Wait up, fellas!” The three of them came together, and a conversation picked up, but what was being said stayed beyond earshot.

It didn’t take long before they began showing off what little they had. A few trades of mostly books and a few cans of food took place between the men. There appeared to be a brief disagreement that dissolved quickly—one of them revealed a pistol hidden within his waistband. That display put an end to the festivities, but no violence erupted, not even a raised voice. What the…?

The man with the gun watched the others intently until they disappeared around the corner. He removed the pistol from under his shirt, took a furtive look around, and ditched it inside a bush. From there, he cut up some stairs that bent their way around the courtyard of the college and toward Burnet Woods.

His actions were those of a guilty man trying to cover up a crime that, from what Thomas saw, never occurred. Places like these were assumed to be a free-for-all, especially this far from Second Alliance occupied territory . Not that it would’ve been right, but that man could have taken all the stuff from their wagon. Perhaps some presence prohibited that sort of action? Is this some kind of neutral zone? Who could enforce something like that? The Butcher?