“Let’s finish it,” I said quietly, and picked up my shovel. With a grunt, Ebrooks stooped to take up his and Kesey followed.

I was smoothing the last mound with the back of my shovel when I heard the creak and clatter of another wagon coming. I looked up in dismay. The sky had begun to turn pink in the west; the light would soon be gone. Over an hour ago, the coffin-builders had left their yield and departed for town.

Only the three of us remained.

I didn’t recognize the driver until Kesey grunted and said, “More joy to come. It’s Sergeant Hoster.” Ebrooks uttered a muffled obscenity. I said nothing at all, but my heart filled with dread. Yet when they picked up their shovels and went to meet the wagon, I forced myself to trail along after them. Hoster pulled in his team alongside the row of empty coffins and sat waiting for us to approach. His vinegar-soaked mask was crusted brown with road dust. “Got a few more deaders for you. The docs don’t want them lying around the infirmary.”

“Couldn’t they have waited until morning? Night’s coming on fast,” Kesey objected.

“You don’t have to bury them tonight. Just get me unloaded so I can head back to town. There’s a double Gettys tonic waiting for me, and one of Sarla’s whores, on the house.” He scratched the back of his neck and then pretended to notice me for the first time. “Well, well. I thought you’d run off and joined the Specks by now. You would have if you were smart, Burv.

But then you probably think you are smart. So smart that you think you covered all your tracks and no one can prove what you done. But I can, Tubs. And you won’t get away with it. This outbreak of plague may give you a bit of a reprieve, long enough to dig more graves. But when it’s all over, we’ll still find time to deal with you. I promise you, in the end you’ll be filling a grave up here. Justice will be done.”

“I haven’t done anything,” I retorted, but even as I said the words, I knew them for a lie and could almost taste the untruth in my mouth. I’d killed those three men and now I’d just lied about it. Hoster laughed skeptically.

“Keep saying that. See how much good it does you. Bet you’re wishing you could bury me, aren’t you, Fats? Shove me under a shitpile like you did that poor whore. I’ll admit one thing. I’d love to know how you done those men.”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it,” Ebrooks defended me suddenly. “He didn’t even know their names. He said he got jumped and someone stole his wagon.”

“You don’t have to know a man’s name to kill him, stupid. Now shut up and unload this wagon.”

He had the stripes. We did as he told us. There were three bodies, loosely shrouded in sheets. The first was a woman. We set her in her coffin, and while Kesey put a lid on top, Ebrooks and I went back for the next body.