Barry ‘Bardog’'s Arc

Chapter 10 of 13

Barry stayed behind the bar after the driver finished eating. The woman cleared the booth and brought the thermos back to the kitchen without saying anything. Barry watched the lot through the window, waiting for Sherrie to show up like she always did when her trucks came through. Sherrie walked in twenty minutes later while the driver was still at his booth, staring out the window with his arms crossed. She didn't look at Barry. She walked straight to the broken stool at the end of the bar and sat down on it even though it wobbled under her weight. Barry saw the knife on her belt, handle shaped like a raven's head, the metal catching light from the window. She'd never worn it before. Barry set a glass of water in front of her and waited. Sherrie looked at the driver, then back at Barry. She didn't ask anything. She just sat there with her hand resting near the knife, waiting for him to say it. Barry told her the driver's name and what the trader had seen on the eastern route. Sherrie didn't move except to pick up the glass and take a long drink. She set it down and nodded once, then stood up and walked toward the driver's booth. Barry didn't follow her. He stayed behind the bar and listened to the sound of her boots on the floor, the scrape of the bench as the driver stood up, the low murmur of voices he couldn't make out. A minute later Sherrie walked the driver out through the front door with her hand on his shoulder. The driver didn't resist. Barry watched them disappear into the lot and felt the weight lift off his chest, replaced by something colder. He'd done what he had to do, and now Sherrie knew he'd choose her side when it mattered. That was worth something in Rust Creek, but it also meant he couldn't pretend to be neutral anymore.