Monkey Pete had shooed everyone away, telling them he could construct the cart on his own, and that they would just be in his way. Hollister had suggested they get some sleep while taking turns standing watch in the gunner’s bubble above the armory car. Chee had volunteered to take the first watch. He sat in the seat, his hand on the handles of the Gatling, ready to shoot in an instant if the Archaics reappeared.
Chee was too wired to sleep, so keeping watch had been a good thing for him. But it didn’t sit right with him, knowing Shaniah and Hollister were not sleeping. Hollister had made a show of heading for his bunk and Shaniah did the same, leaving the main car and following Monkey Pete, giving every indication she was going to the guest quarters.
Chee was willing to bet one of the two was not in their bunk. She had made her way to Hollister’s quarters or he had gone to hers, but they were together somewhere on the train. They were lovers. Chee had seen it almost immediately when they returned from their ride the previous night. It should not bother him. The major was an adult, his own man, and not to mention Chee’s superior officer. He could sleep with whomever he wished. The sergeant just wished it was anyone but Shaniah.
He reached inside the folds of his shirt and fingered his medicine bag, and he could still feel the cord with the coin tied around his ankle. He muttered both a Shaolin prayer and a Creek war chant. Neither made him feel better. He wished his grandmother Annabel were here so he could ask her more questions. How could he protect all of them from this Brujeria — this witch- in their midst?
Monkey Pete lowered the door on his “lab” car, slowly rolling the cart he’d built down the ramp onto the ground. One of the spare Gatlings was attached to it. Chee continued to marvel at the engineer’s ingenuity as he yawned and stretched.
It was almost time to fight again.