Guns And Dogs Page 12

  “We’re new around here,” Argos replied warily.

  “Indeed,” the young man said. He stood and offered his hand to both Argos and Johnny. He seemed harmless enough. “Why don’t you two fellows join me for a drink?”

  “You sure you don’t mind being seen with a black man?” Argos asked.

  The man laughed heartily, which made his intelligent features come to life. “My good man, race is irrelevant. People are people. I’d be honored to sit with you.”

  “I think I’m beginning to like you, sir.” Argos and Johnny seated themselves at the table.

  “But where are my manners?” the man said. “My name’s Sam Clemens.”

  That name, Johnny thought. It sounds so familiar. He smiled at Clemens. “I’m Johnny Veto.”

  “I’m Argos Better.”

  “Pleased to meet your acquaintances.” Sam waved over a waitress and ordered two more beers for Johnny and Argos. Johnny figured there was no drinking age in this era, so technically he wasn’t breaking any laws by indulging just this once.

  The server brought two glasses of beer. Both Johnny and Argos thanked Clemens before raising their glasses in a toast.

  “So where are you gents from anyways?”

  “We’re from the west,” Argos said. “California.”

  “Prospectors?” Clemens said. “I’ll be heading out there soon via stagecoach. My brother Orion has just been appointed Secretary of the Nevada Territory. I’m thinking of becoming a prospector myself. Rumors are circulating that there are vast silver deposits in Nevada.”

  “Interesting,” Johnny said.

  Clemens took a sip of his beer and swallowed. “I’ve worked for several different newspapers up in New York and Philadelphia, Johnny, but I’ve always found the west coast fascinating.”

  “Yes, the west coast is fascinating indeed,” Argos added. “But I find it interesting that you don’t mind sitting with a black man. Are you an abolitionist?”

  Clemens nodded. “You could say that, my good man. My mother raised me to have compassion for all living things, and to me Negroes are just that…living things. Besides, I think it’s fear, fear of the unknown that drives people to hate and distrust that which they do not understand. If you ask me, Mister Argos, ignorance is the real enemy.”

  Johnny raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

  (2)

  Outside Mentis scanned the tavern. The two humans had gone inside earlier and he grew tired waiting for them. And where were the two canines? He dared not underestimate them. For all he knew they could be shapeshifters.

  Did these humans have a contact here in this era? Mentis paced up and down the sidewalk across the street from the tavern, trying to formulate a plan. He was close to his quarry and could not afford to let it slip away. For if he did he put the entire mission at risk, not to mention his own future.

  It was risky, but it had to be done. And, if he pulled it off just right, no one in this era would suspect anything.

  He drew his wolfhead cane and aimed it at a street gas light standing in front of the tavern.

  Clemens ordered a meal for them and Johnny was grateful he didn’t have to dine on another evening of AL field rations. While he ate he tried to pick up clues on Clemens’ identity, perhaps, then he could figure out why this man was so familiar.

  The tavern seemed to get noisier as the night wore on, and, to Johnny’s relief Argos’ skin color never became an issue to any of the other patrons. Just as he was beginning to relax he felt his scanner vibrate in his pocket. He didn’t want to reveal its presence to Clemens. Besides, how could he explain its purpose? That would be a direct violation of AL policy.

  Johnny politely excused himself from the table and walked towards the back of the tavern. He found an outhouse and closed the door. The smell was unbearable and he did his best not to vomit the delicious meal he had eaten earlier. Pulling the small scanner from his trouser pocket he studied its readings. “Damn.” He dashed out of the outhouse and found Argos, talking animatedly to Clemens. “Argos we really need to talk, now!”

  He smelled alcohol on his friend’s breath and hoped Argos wasn’t too intoxicated.

  “Is there a problem Johnny?” Clemens said. “If so, I’d like to help.”

  “Thanks, bro, but I need to talk to Argos.”

  Clemens smiled, and his bushy mustache extended across his upper lip. “Bro? That’s an interesting piece of vernacular. What does it mean?”

  A loud explosion rocked the front of the tavern. Causing windows to shatter. Shards of glass flew at them like arrows while Johnny and Argos tackled Clemens to the ground to prevent him from being wounded.

  Screams erupted around them as another blast rocked the tavern. “It appears we’ve run into a bit of excitement here,” Clemens said.

  Johnny could not wait any longer. He showed Argos the reading he’d seen in the outhouse. “It’s Lycarian.”

  “Lycarian?” Clemens said. “Sounds exotic!”

  “A foreign threat, Mr. Clemens,” Argos replied. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  “Why? I’m having the time of my life!”

  Argos took Clemens by the arm and with Johnny covering them, they shuffled towards the back of the tavern which led to an alley exit. Alongside them patrons were scrambling to get out of the tavern.

  “I knew coming in here was a bad idea,” Argos complained. “We got caught unprepared.”

  There was a pile-up of people at the back of the tavern. Argos wiped sweat from his brow and scowled. “I’ll have to blow a hole in one of these walls.” With most of the patrons too busy trying to escape, Argos drew his weapon and fired. The wooden boards disintegrated before their eyes.

  “C’mon!”

  “You sure it was a good idea revealing ourselves with that weapon?” Johnny asked. Clemens eyed them both as they made their way out of the gaping hole that once was the tavern wall.

  “No choice. People could’ve been crushed in that bottleneck.”

  “I must say you two gentlemen have peaked my interest,” Clemens added. “You’re definitely not from these parts.” He pointed at Argos’ field pistol. “And that my dear Argos, well, I must say I’ve never seen an apparatus of that nature, and I do consider myself a technology enthusiast.”

  “No Mister Clemens,” Johnny said, “we’re not from around these parts. We’re from the future.”

  Argos gave Johnny a stern look. “Johnny!”

  “Indeed.” Clemens looked overjoyed, like a child who’d been told he could stay up past his bedtime.

  “I doubt anyone would believe him, Argos. Maybe he’d have no memory of us if we correct the timeline?”

  They found an alley and paused to catch their breath. Argos checked his scanner for lifeforms.

  “It was that Lycarian, wasn’t it?” Johnny asked.

  “Yep.” Argos pocketed his scanner and exhaled in frustration. “Drinking on the job and letting our guard down almost cost us.”

  Clemens straightened up his ruffled clothing, yet remained upbeat. “I don’t suppose you gentlemen care to enlighten me on why you two have journeyed back from the future?”

  “We’ve already revealed enough to you,” Argos said, “but to make it short, we’re here to correct history.”

  “How exciting!”

  “Sam, I hope you’ll keep this all secret. Do we have your word?” Johnny asked.

  “My boy, your secret is safe with me. Besides, it’s like you said, who would believe me?”

  In the background they could hear whistles, the police were en route to the tavern. They also saw a horse-drawn fire engine arrive on the scene. “I hope our presence in the tavern didn’t alter history, Argos.”

  “When I scanned for Lycarian readings, I also checked the tavern. A few people were seriously injured from the flying debris, but no fatalities. We got lucky…real lucky.” Argos turned towards Clemens. “Will you be alright Mister Clemens?”

  Clemens smiled, rev
ealing a pristine set of teeth. “I should think so Mister Argos.”

  “We have to find that Lycarian.”

  Johnny looked at Clemens. “Where are you staying?”

  “Well, I was planning on staying at the boarding house located above that tavern, but I supposed that’s out of the question.”

  “Will you be alright?” Argos asked again.

  Clemens nodded. “I should be, and don’t worry gentlemen, your secret’s safe with me.”

  Five minutes later the area was swarming with more fire engines while a group of police officers were questioning bystanders and tavern patrons. Jessie and Studs barked happily upon being reunited with Johnny and Argos.

  Johnny snapped his fingers. “I finally figured out who he was.”

  “Who? Clemens?”

  Johnny nodded. “Yes, Samuel Clemens. That’s Mark Twain’s real name.”

  “The writer?”

  “Yeah. He’s going to write a bunch of classic novels. Some of which I’ll end up reading for school. One of them is gonna be a time-travel story.”

  Argos didn’t look too happy. “So much for protecting the timeline; I’ll probably be suspended when I enter all this in our mission log.”

  “Naw, it’s all good,” Johnny replied, “for the most part he keeps his promise.”

  Mentis watched as the tavern’s flames were extinguished by the ancient fire-fighting devices. He was careful to avoid being questioned by the law enforcement officers of this time. He could always lie, but lying only went so far. He was disheartened to hear that none of the tavern’s occupants had been killed in his attack. Apart from a few wounded he had failed in his mission to kill the humans from the future. He rethought his actions and wondered where he’d gone wrong. Should he have entered the tavern and espied from a shorter distance before killing them? Or perhaps another way? He knew rehashing the past was no use, and would only frustrate him more. So he slipped away from the scene and headed back to his hotel.

  His superiors would be enraged at his actions. And, if he failed his life would be forfeit, which made Mentis even more determined to succeed. He still had one advantage, and that was the humans who were tracking him could not identify him on sight. His human disguise would see to that, but he still had to be cautious, since they could still track him from his Lycarian life signs.

  He calmed himself, and began his preparations for assassinating Lincoln.

  Hoping to catch the assassin before he struck again, Johnny and Argos continued their tireless search.“You find that Lycarian life reading yet?”

  Johnny’s eyes were tired from lack of sleep, and drinking a huge glass of beer didn’t exactly help.

  “It’s faint, but I think I got something. What about you? Find anything?”

  Argos shook his head. “My scanner is older than yours, so its sensors aren’t as sharp. They’re retiring these next month anyway, they’re practically obsolete.” Argos sounded like a kid tired of playing with the same old toy.

  “Okay I think I got a fix on something,” Johnny said. His pulse quickened and his fatigue lifted. He wanted a crack at the Lycarian who had tried to kill him and Argos earlier this night. “Less than two kilometers, northwest. The reading is the strongest its been.”

  They started jogging. Jessie and Studs alongside them, slowing down when they came across a policeman as they didn’t wish to attract any unwanted attention.

  “There!” Johnny pointed towards a building situated on a street corner designed in the federal-style, its guest room windows glowed like candle flames in the late-night hours. “The Lycarian’s in that hotel.”

  “Today’s the day Lincoln passes through, so now’s a good time to get this guy,” Argos said. “Don’t draw your weapon until I give you the green light, understood?”

  Johnny nodded and they moved closer to the hotel. A doorman stood sentry at the entrance and they knew going through it would draw attention to their arrival, especially Argos, being black. Even his freedom certificate probably wouldn’t be enough to get him in.

  Johnny scanned the hotel and located an entrance at the rear of the hotel. He saw a loading dock where supplies were offloaded. No one was around so they crept through the shadows and out of the moonlight. “I hate to say this but Jessie and Studs will draw too much attention to us,” Johnny said.

  Argos eyed his dogs, his face a canvas of solemnity. “I hate to admit it but you’re right.”

  Johnny wracked his thoughts for a way the two dogs could join them. It felt unfair to have them sit this one out—they were members of the team. “Wait, there’s a way they can come with us. We can go through the front door.”

  Argos looked confused. “But we already ruled out that option, remember?”

  “No, listen,” Johnny said, “we can use them to distract the doorman, and then, while that’s happening, we slip through the front. Once they lose the doorman they can follow us in later.” Johnny turned towards the two dogs. “You two can do that…right?”

  Both Jessie and Studs barked and wagged their tails animatedly.

  Argos looked convinced. “I guess that’s settled then.”

  They watched from a distance while Jessie and Studs approached the doorman. At first the doorman tried shooing them away but when the two Dobermans started barking at him he grabbed an umbrella and waved it menacingly at them. Despite this they kept at it, stepping towards the doorman, barking, and stepping back, baiting him.

  “It’s a stalemate,” Johnny said. “That damn doorman’s not moving.”

  “No, wait.”

  Jessie and Studs bit into the thick red carpet leading into the hotel and began dragging it from the spot. The doorman started yelling and screaming at the two dogs and for a moment Johnny thought the ruckus would wake the entire neighborhood. But with the red carpet in danger of being hauled away, the doorman left his post and chased after them.

  “C’mon, let’s roll,” Argos said. They sprinted towards the entrance while the doorman’s back was to them, before slipping inside the lobby. Inside only one person was stationed at the front desk, and he was asleep.

  “Now where?” Argos said.

  Johnny checked his scanner. “The reading’s coming from the third floor.”

  They took the stairs.

  Chapter 15

  February 23, 1861

  When they reached the third floor they drew their weapons. “Fourth room on the right side of the corridor,” Johnny said. “I wonder how our four-legged friends are making out.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Argos said.

  Johnny checked his scanner’s screen. “This is the strongest the readings have ever been.”

  “Then let’s not waste any more time; adjust your weapon for low-yield discharge. No sense in blowing off the door and taking our friend with it.” Moments later they both aimed their weapons at the doorknob before thin red rays burned a hole around it. The smoking knob melted into a small pool of metallic liquid. Then, Johnny and Argos stepped through the door.

  There was a four-post bed over towards their right while adjacent to a set of large windows stood a small desk and wooden chair. Argos moved slowly towards a closet door and checked inside. Nothing.

  Johnny went to the bathroom and found nothing except an empty bathtub and thousands of follicles of hair scattered all over the floor.

  “Johnny!”

  He left the bathroom and headed towards Argos who was leaning outside the window. “Sonofabitch gave us the slip…look!”

  Johnny saw the fire escape mounted outside the window.

  “Shit.”

  “Time’s running out,” Johnny said, “Lincoln’s train will be passing through in less than two hours.”

  Mentis hurried down the street. He had an appointment to keep with Abraham Lincoln. The two humans were probably back in his hotel room now, wondering how he had evaded them. He was close to succeeding in his mission, but he couldn’t get too comfortable. Not yet.

  He still needed t
o find a uniform that would allow him to get closer to the transfer point where Lincoln would be most vulnerable. Mentis had an idea, and when he saw a police officer a block ahead of him, smoking a cigarette, he smiled. “Excuse me! Officer?”

  The police officer shot Mentis a sour look, before extinguishing his cigarette under his boot heel. “What are you doing out so late?” the cop said.

  “I must’ve lost my way. But there’s a way you can help me. You can loan me your uniform.”

  The cop stared at Mentis as if he’d lost his mind. “You want my uniform? Then you’d best join the academy…now run along, we’ve had enough drama this evening.”

  Mentis snarled, revealing his wolfen nature. The cop’s eyes widened. “But I must insist that you give me your uniform.” With one quick motion Mentis’ hands wrapped themselves around the policeman’s throat. “There…there,” Mentis said, “don’t fight it.”

  The cop’s eyelids fluttered as he tried breaking free from the Lycarian’s grip by hitting Mentis upside the head with his nightstick, to no effect. A few seconds later, Mentis had squeezed the life out of the man who slumped to the ground. Mentis looked around, making sure no one had witnessed the murder before dragging the body off the sidewalk. He dumped it behind a small pile of refuse, located in a back alley.

  “We don’t have much time, Argos,” Johnny said as they made their trek towards the transfer point from the President Street depot, where Lincoln’s sleeper car would be hitched to horses that would take him to Camden Street Station, towards a waiting train, and onto Washington, D.C.

  The streets were devoid of any activity, but the moon shone like a white sun in the night sky, ripples of night clouds masked the evening stars like thick draperies. They were less than half a kilometer from Camden Street when Johnny’s scanner picked up the Lycarian’s life signs. “Activate the stealth setting in your boots, he’s up ahead.”