his concern, the old man smiled.
“We’re not looking for any trouble, mister.” He spoke with a slow southern drawl, a dialect that had been perfected across generations to put people at ease.
Mason thought about it for a moment and then extended his hand.
The old man seemed surprised by the gesture.
“Aren’t you afraid of catching the pox?”
“I’ve been told by people I trust that, by the time the pox scabs, it’s no longer contagious.”
The man quickly shifted the umbrella to his left hand and shook Mason’s hand with the other.
“I believe that to be true as well. Still, it’s been a long time since we’ve been treated with that kind of respect.” His voice broke, and he wiped at what looked like a drop of ink pooling in the corner of his eye.
Mason looked away for a moment, allowing the man to collect himself.
“I’m Robert Sterling, retired district judge for the city of Charleston, South Carolina. God rest her soul. These are my boys, Dean and Colton.”
“Deputy Marshal Mason Raines. Good to meet you folks.”
Judge Sterling’s mouth turned up in a smile.
“Deputy Marshal? How about that. It’s been a while since we’ve seen any lawmen.”
Colton, the younger of the two, said, “The last lawman we saw was a city cop from Savannah. He wasn’t as... as enlightened as you are.”
“How’s that?” asked Mason.
“He tried to put me down because of my condition.”
Mason nodded. He had seen his fair share of hatred for those infected, some of it deserved, and some of it not.
“Are you out on business, Marshal?” asked the judge.
Mason took a moment to consider the question.
“I suppose I am.”
“Pursuing bad men?”
“The worst.”
He nodded. “From the look in your eye, I can see they’ve crossed the wrong man.”
Mason pressed his lips together but said nothing. Bowie gave a little whine as if reminding his master to introduce him.
Judge Sterling squatted down and petted the dog.
“What’s your name, big fella?”
“That’s Bowie.”
Both Dean and Colton stepped over and gave Bowie some petting as well. For his part, Bowie returned the affection with sloppy licks to each man’s face.
“Are you hungry, Marshal?” the judge asked, standing back up. “We’re grilling a deer that one of the men shot last night. You’re welcome to your fill.”
Bowie looked up at the judge with a sense of urgency.
“Plenty for your dog, too,” he said, smiling.
While the food certainly smelled delicious, Mason couldn’t afford the delay.
“I appreciate the offer. Unfortunately, I need to get out ahead of those I’m after. It looks like my best bet is to cut them off at Richmond Hill.”
Judge Sterling’s face filled with concern.
“Don’t do that, Marshal.”
Dean and Colton both shook their heads as well.
“No, sir,” said Colton. “You want to stay clear of Richmond Hill. We know. We were there.”
“What’s wrong with Richmond Hill?”
“That place has been completely overrun by survivors of the pox. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of them by now.”
“They came down from Savannah,” added Dean.
Mason was confused. “I hate to state the obvious, but aren’t you three—”
“They’re not like us, Marshal,” the judge said. “These people are something else. Not fully human anymore, I think.”
“How’s that even possible?”
“I don’t really know. Some of us who caught the pox stayed pretty much the same, save for these damned eyes and stiff joints. But others...”
“Others, what?”
“Well, they changed. They grew bigger, stronger. And their minds changed too. They can’t think straight any more. Worst of all, they developed an intense hatred for anyone who wasn’t infected.”
“The pox drove them crazy?”
“Not just crazy. They’ve lost some intelligence along the way. They can’t drive cars or operate any kind of technology. Oh, they can do simple things, but not like before.”
“They’re like
“We’re not looking for any trouble, mister.” He spoke with a slow southern drawl, a dialect that had been perfected across generations to put people at ease.
Mason thought about it for a moment and then extended his hand.
The old man seemed surprised by the gesture.
“Aren’t you afraid of catching the pox?”
“I’ve been told by people I trust that, by the time the pox scabs, it’s no longer contagious.”
The man quickly shifted the umbrella to his left hand and shook Mason’s hand with the other.
“I believe that to be true as well. Still, it’s been a long time since we’ve been treated with that kind of respect.” His voice broke, and he wiped at what looked like a drop of ink pooling in the corner of his eye.
Mason looked away for a moment, allowing the man to collect himself.
“I’m Robert Sterling, retired district judge for the city of Charleston, South Carolina. God rest her soul. These are my boys, Dean and Colton.”
“Deputy Marshal Mason Raines. Good to meet you folks.”
Judge Sterling’s mouth turned up in a smile.
“Deputy Marshal? How about that. It’s been a while since we’ve seen any lawmen.”
Colton, the younger of the two, said, “The last lawman we saw was a city cop from Savannah. He wasn’t as... as enlightened as you are.”
“How’s that?” asked Mason.
“He tried to put me down because of my condition.”
Mason nodded. He had seen his fair share of hatred for those infected, some of it deserved, and some of it not.
“Are you out on business, Marshal?” asked the judge.
Mason took a moment to consider the question.
“I suppose I am.”
“Pursuing bad men?”
“The worst.”
He nodded. “From the look in your eye, I can see they’ve crossed the wrong man.”
Mason pressed his lips together but said nothing. Bowie gave a little whine as if reminding his master to introduce him.
Judge Sterling squatted down and petted the dog.
“What’s your name, big fella?”
“That’s Bowie.”
Both Dean and Colton stepped over and gave Bowie some petting as well. For his part, Bowie returned the affection with sloppy licks to each man’s face.
“Are you hungry, Marshal?” the judge asked, standing back up. “We’re grilling a deer that one of the men shot last night. You’re welcome to your fill.”
Bowie looked up at the judge with a sense of urgency.
“Plenty for your dog, too,” he said, smiling.
While the food certainly smelled delicious, Mason couldn’t afford the delay.
“I appreciate the offer. Unfortunately, I need to get out ahead of those I’m after. It looks like my best bet is to cut them off at Richmond Hill.”
Judge Sterling’s face filled with concern.
“Don’t do that, Marshal.”
Dean and Colton both shook their heads as well.
“No, sir,” said Colton. “You want to stay clear of Richmond Hill. We know. We were there.”
“What’s wrong with Richmond Hill?”
“That place has been completely overrun by survivors of the pox. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of them by now.”
“They came down from Savannah,” added Dean.
Mason was confused. “I hate to state the obvious, but aren’t you three—”
“They’re not like us, Marshal,” the judge said. “These people are something else. Not fully human anymore, I think.”
“How’s that even possible?”
“I don’t really know. Some of us who caught the pox stayed pretty much the same, save for these damned eyes and stiff joints. But others...”
“Others, what?”
“Well, they changed. They grew bigger, stronger. And their minds changed too. They can’t think straight any more. Worst of all, they developed an intense hatred for anyone who wasn’t infected.”
“The pox drove them crazy?”
“Not just crazy. They’ve lost some intelligence along the way. They can’t drive cars or operate any kind of technology. Oh, they can do simple things, but not like before.”
“They’re like
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