The next time I see Matthew, it's from a distance, and he is seething. Apollon, Jonas, and I duck back into the doorway of Canson’s store as we spot Matt striding down the middle of the street, flanked on either side by three goons. They're headed somewhere with long, purposeful steps. He's saying something to his men. His face, set in a scowl, looks like it belongs on an entirely different man than the one I met at the Rustler. I've not mentioned the encounter to anyone, though Apollon gave me an odd look one day, so I wonder if someone has said something to him about it. Me talking to Matthew. Is that news that would travel around the Outpost?
That day put a dent in my pocket. A huge dent. Not only paying for the drinks, but leaving without playing cards. None of my friends have asked where the money went, but it's two days later and I have yet to make it up. Last night, Donegan was part of the game, and Apollon and Jonas insisted we leave as soon as we walked in. Now, seeing Matthew storm off in the opposite direction, I turn to my friends, about to suggest heading to the Rustler.
Before I can do so, Apollon slips out of the door, gesturing for us to follow.
We trail along at a distance behind Matthew's crew, keeping pace with them. I'm thinking this is a terrible idea, but Apollon looks intent. Jonas doesn't protest. So I follow along. They lead us all the way through town toward the Outpost gate. There's a battered, solar-powered vehicle parked by the wall, its black cells gleaming, but missing in places. Three men stand outside it. They greet Matthew gravely and start talking and gesturing wildly. He listens with crossed arms and a frown. After a while, they bring around one box, and lift some of its contents— a few dented cans, an abused head of cabbage, and a loose scattering of beans and dried corn kernels.
"The supply shipments," Jonas murmurs beside me. We're standing about half a block off, under an awning that's only partially attached to a dilapidated brick building.
I shake my head, wanting to be away. But Apollon says, "Looks like someone's hijacking the caravans."
Jonas peers at Matthew's group. "Maybe," he says. He and Apollon exchange glances. "Do...."
Whatever he was going to say trails off as Matthew, turning back toward the Outpost, sees us. His frown has not disappeared, and now his eyes narrow on the three of us.
Apollon grabs my arm and pulls me with him, turning to retreat. "Come on," he says. We start walking quickly away, but all three of us look back over our shoulders at Matt. He's just standing there, watching us. And it's my gaze that he meets.