I know exactly what he means.
Gideon did have successes, here and there. It’s seeming more and more like my survival hadn’t been an accident, but actual proof of an effective serum, the perfect combination of science and time. If Gideon Carr had been a mite less impatient Nicodemus might still be standing, a town full of healthy, unafraid people able to survive the dead . . .
But none of that mattered. He’d rushed things, failed to let his setbacks humble him, and refused to listen to anything but his own inclinations. The end result was tragedy. There’s a lesson to be learned from that, and I don’t aim to repeat Gideon’s mistakes.
“So what’s the story here?” I ask, mulling over the possibilities as they unfold before me. “You could have killed Gideon in Nicodemus. Or Summerland. But you’ve traipsed halfway across the country through endless dead to hunt him down. Why?”
“Because—” Redfern begins, and anguish clogs his throat. His eyes fill with tears, and he swipes his hand across his face to chase them away. “He killed Amelia.” And then Daniel Redfern is sobbing outright as the wall of his emotions break.
“I knew it,” Sue mutters, before digging a handkerchief out of her sleeve and handing it to Redfern, who accepts it gratefully. I can’t decide if I’m more sympathetic or horrified to see the man lose control of his emotions, even over Miss Duncan, but Katherine is less insensitive, and she scoots her stool closer and takes Daniel Redfern’s hand, patting him reassuringly until he manages to compose himself. He gives her a grateful smile and takes a deep breath before continuing.
“I knew as soon as the gates were down that Nicodemus was lost. And Gideon Carr’s handiwork was obvious to anyone who has seen how quickly his experiments can go awry. I was ready to leave Nicodemus then and there, but Amelia was determined to stay and help people. Because it was the right thing to do.”
“She was bit,” I say, and he nods. “She was there, during my convalescence. Seeing Miss Duncan like that . . .” I trail off, because there ain’t much more that needs to be said than that.
“I wandered south in a daze,” Redfern says. “There aren’t a lot of places that are safe for Indians, let alone one traveling by himself. And it wasn’t like I had any place to go.” He shrugs. “I had no plan. For the first time in my life there was no one to tell me what to do and where to go, and I had no idea what to do with that. I was lost, no meaning, no purpose. The dead were no threat to me any longer. And yet, I couldn’t die. The only thing left for me: to hunt down Gideon.
“I eventually made my way to Denver. There was an article in the paper, talking about Gideon lecturing about the possibility of a vaccine. I almost had him there. He escaped before I could confront him. But I’ve been tracking him ever since.”
He turns to look at me and shakes his head. “I’m sorry to ask such a thing of you. But I figure if anyone wanted Gideon Carr dead as much as I did, it was you.”
“Plus, I’ve always been happy enough to run off and kill someone who deserved it,” I say.
He gives me a terse nod. “If what they say about you in the papers is even half true . . . well, I need help, and you seem more than capable of killing Gideon.”
I don’t say anything. It annoys me that Redfern is asking for my help, especially since the last time I saw him he gave me that lecture about minding my own business, but he’s right. I want the tinkerer dead.
And I want to be the one to do it.
I think about the old man in the boat. “Did Gideon cause the fall of Sacramento?” I ask. I know what I think the answer to be, but I need the confirmation.
“The West is almost devoid of shamblers,” Redfern says. “And yet, Sacramento suddenly falls to a horde, right after Gideon reportedly sets up shop there? Does that sound like a coincidence to you?”
“The precedent has been set,” I drawl. A body in motion tends to stay in motion, like old Sir Isaac Newton said. Unless acted upon by an outside force.
“Jane.” Katherine’s hand is on my arm and her eyes are full of barely restrained emotion. I can already hear the lecture she wants to give me. She wants to remind me that this doesn’t have to be my fight. I could stay with her and the wagon train, make our way to Haven and maybe a future away from so much killing. She wants me to let go of my anger and try to move past my rage, to be the Jane McKeene I once was.
But I can’t.
Redfern’s got a lead on Gideon, and I’ve already lost track of the man before. And every time I do, disaster follows. The man is a menace to society, what remains of it, and he must be stopped. Even if Katherine is right—that there is a place for me and a life that could be good and safe—it’s not going to matter. Not as long as Gideon Carr remains at large.
The only problem is convincing Katherine that me running off to kill Gideon Carr doesn’t mean I don’t care about her. Because if I leave, I am certain it will break her heart.
And I ain’t sure how many chances I got left.
If California be the only hope of this fine land, a state settled by zealotry and greed, then I fear for the rest of these great United States. Indeed, we must ask ourselves if the dead are not so much a happenstance of the world, but a plague visited upon us for our many sins. And if that be the case, then running shall not change a thing.
—Senator William P. Henry, 1870
—KATHERINE—
Chapter 44
Notes on a Terrible Idea
As I listened to Daniel Redfern’s tale my worry grew with every word. His timing is terrible, and the tale he spins is even worse. The more he talked, the harder Jane’s expression became. Now I am afraid that the hints of lightness I have seen over these past couple of weeks were but my imagination. I have worked so hard to bring Jane back to her better self, and here is Daniel Redfern to send her once more into that darkness.
I refuse to let that happen.
I stand and gesture to Sue and Jane. “I am sorry, Daniel, but could you excuse us? We need to have a word.”
“Of course,” he says, standing as etiquette dictates. He watches us walk away from the cook fire with a mixture of interest and sadness. How much of it is an act and how much is truth? I have always been a very good judge of people, especially men. Spending time among women who make their living off a man’s passions very quickly shows a body the best and worst of the sex, and Daniel Redfern makes me feel vaguely on edge. More so than ever before.
But mostly, I fear that Jane going with this man on a mission of violence will result in her end. She saved me once. Now, I have to save her from herself.
Once we are out of earshot I round on Jane. “I do not trust that man.”
“Me either,” says Sue, crossing her arms. “That man is too handsome by half, even looking like the loser in a boxing match. It’s positively distracting.”
“Sue!” I exclaim. “Be serious.”
“I am,” Sue says with a slow smile. She turns to Jane. “But Katherine is right. He’s leaving something out in this yarn he’s spinning. You’ve been hunting Gideon Carr for months, how is it that your paths are just now crossing? The man never struck me as being ineffective. He should’ve sought you out long before now.”