Two days later I was in the passenger seat of Charlie's old Silverado, Erica at my hip in the cheap paddle holster. Charlie had a Pall Mall in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, and was still somehow managing to keep the vehicle straight and on the road, while shifting gears and looking at furry porn on his phone. The old longshoreman had at one point been an over the road trucker, and I imagine all those years of wrangling three or four hookers, a crack pipe, and a 40 ounce of Coors Light had made him quite good at distracted driving. 
"So Charlie, when are we going to work man? I'd like to get settled in before you start cracking the whip."
"Well since tomorrow's the weekend I figured we'd take a couple days off, get us a couple beers and some girls over, get you a warm welcome to Aransas Pass."
"I could sure use a beer..." I said, trailing off. There wouldn't be any hookers.
"What? No hookers? Don't tell me you've started swinging for the other team," the old man said, slugging me in the arm.
"No, it's just I met this girl. I meant to mention her, actually."
"Oh go on. What she look like? Her titties big?" 
"Jesus, dude. I mean...well yeah, but that's not what I was going to tell you. She's a machinist, she can weld, she's extremely strong for her size, and the way she tells it there's not much she can't do."
"Well. I've been thinking of hiring somebody on for skilled labor. How old is she?"
"I'd say about 19."
"Ain't no dope? Nothing weird?"
"No, she's never so much as smoked a joint as far as I can tell. Definitely too pretty and too calm to be on that meth monster. Nothing weird, unless you count half Filipino as weird."
"Nah, I served with some of them boys back in the olden days. Their women will out work, out eat, and out bitch most of the guys I know. Alright, where is she?"
"Well, if you want to take her on, stop off in Jefferson and we can pick her up."
"Already? She's ready to go?"
"Well her mama and daddy are real traditional and don't know she's leaving, so I've got her some of my mom's old clothes in the bag. I'll get her some new clothes the first pay day. Speaking of, any lines on a contract yet?"
"Yeah, actually. Monday morning we're supposed to go sink beams for this guy's dock, that job should last a few weeks."
"What's it pay?"
Charlie laughed. "I never figured you for a shyster. For you it's going to be about a grand. If you paint the damn thing, probably more." 
"Paint it? It's salt water."
"Guy is some damn Yankee. He swore up and down that all his life his daddy insisted on having a painted boat dock. When it peels off in a year and he wants it redone, that's more money for us."
"Works for me."
We turned into Jefferson and I had Charlie pull up at a local grocery store. I felt Erica tense up.
"She's in here getting some roadsnacks, I'll go grab her."
I walked into the store and found the bathroom. "Alright, we're good." I set her on the sink and at once she was both gun and girl and then girl. I checked to make sure no one was in the hall and lead her out by her hand. 
"Chucks, what are they going to think when they see us leaving the bathroom?"
"They're going to think I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in three counties."
She scoffed and then blushed. I checked my wallet for money and was surprised to find a crumpled five dollar bill hidden behind my driver's license. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Dugan. Thank you, Murdercube. I bought a box of donut sticks and a two liter Dr.Pepper. Charlie wouldn't mind fronting me cash later on, but I didn't want to put any more pressure on him on my account than I had to. 
"Chucks, can we hurry? There's something I don't like about this place."
"What, Brookshires? Look I know it smells weird and the manager with the lazy eye seems like he's looking at you but I promise he's not, he doesn't even know what he's look at."
"That's not it. There's...there's just something wrong."
I caught a glimmer out of the corner of my eye in the cookwares aisle. Something hazy and grey-brown. I couldn't tear my eyes away. A figure slowly came into view, like a slowed down, distorted version of Erica's transformation. The form was short, and I could barely make out the shape of a two rusted crossed cavalry sabers atop what was left of a grey hat. Blue-blonde hair fell around a skeletal face crawling with maggots. The heavy uniform was tatters upon the shoulders of the figure, rotted wool and leather hanging from an exposed rib cage.
/Help me./
"What...?" I mumbled, not understanding what I was seeing. 
/Please help me. I'm right here. It's been so long since I've seen another one of us. I'm buried right here below the foundation. Tell someone I'm here. Please./
"I...I..."
/Sister, tell him. I need to go to the shot towers. I need to rest. There's a place somewhere above us, a cold place of brick and sun and iron, a place where I can finally rest, take me there. The shot towers. The Mother is waiting./
The skeletal figure took a staggering step forward, the rattle of an ancient canteen clinking off of her skinny hip bones. "Shot...towers?"
"Chucks, let's go," came Erica's voice from somewhere far away as I stared dumbfounded at the corpse. It seemed to sway as if drunk, shimmering in and out of existent in the fluorescent light of the grocery store. "Chucks!" A small hand impacts the back of my head. As I snap out of it the figure collapses onto the ground and disappears. "Chucks we have to go. You can't do anything for her."
"What did she mean by shot towers?" 
"I'll tell you later. I promise. Come on, we need to go." As if on queue a fat middle aged manager came over and stood staring at me with his arms crossed.
"Son, is there a problem here?"
"No problem sir, just thought I felt a seizure coming on for a second. I'm going to go now," I lied. I had never had a seizure before in my life. The manager seemed to relax at this and put a hand out for my bag. 
"I'm sorry, son, we just get a lot of druggies in here sometimes, you know how it is, small town and bored kids with nothing to do. I'll help you to your ride."
"Oh that's alright, sir. No disrespect but my present company's a little prettier to lean on." At that the man gave a hearty laugh, his rotund cheeks turning bright red. I  walked out to the truck and held the back door for Erica. She climbed in and smiled at the old man in the front seat.
"Charlie, this is Erica. Erica, Charlie."
"Howdy there, darlin'."
"Nice to meet you."
"Chucks tells me you can walk on water. That true?"
"Ha! Hardly. I do okay."
"Humble. I like this one, Chucks."