A Town Called Dust: The Territory 1 by Justin Woolley Read Free Book Online Page B

best to just wipe his foot on the back of his other leg, Squid finally looked up. In front of him, mounted on warhorses that made The Horse look like a stuffed pony, were three men in green uniforms dirty with dust, each with a golden rising sun emblazoned across the front. Diggers. One of the men rode slightly in front of the others.
    “Move aside,” called one of the men.
    “Relax, Sergeant,” said the lead Digger. Turning his attention to Squid he said, “That’s some nasty stuff to step in.”
    Squid looked up at the Digger before him. His face was dirty, the lines around his mouth dark with dust, and he had a ring of bruised-plum purple around one eye. His blond hair was greasy and matted as if it hadn’t been washed in some time. Squid nodded as he reached instinctively for his key. His heart stopped. His breath felt stuck in his body. The key was gone. His frenzied hands moved around his neck, hunting for the scratchy string that should have been hanging there.
    “Is everything all right?” asked the Digger.
    Squid’s eyes quickly scanned the ground. He felt in the bottom of his shirt. He spun around and looked behind him.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I lost …” Squid turned and ran back the way he had come, his eyes searching the ground.
    “Bah!” Uncle was shouting out to a farmer standing at another dirt stall. “Double-treatin’ is overrated. Our single-treated is much better than Jon Pickles’s double-treated garbage! Come over here and I’ll sell you twice as much for half the price!”
    The farmer did not come over.  
    Squid jumped up onto the wagon, searching around the wooden seat.
    “What in blazes are you doin’, boy?” Uncle said. “Stop jumpin’ around or I’ll break your legs. Where’s the ticket for the horses?”
    Squid stopped. Oh no. The horses.
    He was about to turn and run back when the three Diggers entered the square. The one who rode in front looked around until his eyes caught Squid standing atop the wagon. He nudged his horse and moved toward them. Squid watched Uncle’s eyes grow progressively larger as the approached. The lead Digger swung down off his horse and walked toward Uncle.
    “If this is about that library book,” Uncle said, “I can explain. I left it sittin’ above the fire and …”
    “We are not here to trouble you, sir,” the Digger said. “I wish to speak to the boy.”
    Squid did not move.
    “Here,” the Digger said, turning to face Squid, “I believe this is yours.”
    The Digger held out Squid’s key, letting it dangle from its frayed string. Squid climbed down and walked on shaking legs over to the Digger. He couldn’t read the man’s expression as he passed him the key.
    “It was on the ground where you were standing, but you were so panicked you couldn’t see it.”
    Squid held the key tightly. Good , he thought, squeezing it in his palm, good good good . He couldn’t lose that key. He just couldn’t.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “Also,” the Digger leaned in close enough to speak into Squid’s ear without Uncle overhearing, “I had your horses stabled.”
    He slipped the numbered stable ticket into Squid’s other hand. Uncle walked forward, pushing Squid roughly aside.
    “Now, don’t you worry about the boy,” Uncle said. “Whatever trouble he caused you I’ll give him a right floggin’. Sorry if he’s been a nuisance.”
    “Not at all,” the Digger replied.
    “Perhaps I can interest you gentlemen in some of Dust’s finest dirt?”
    “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have a use for it.”
    “No, of course, of course,” said Uncle. He glanced around at the gathered crowd. Squid knew what he was thinking; there was a lot of attention on their wagon of dirt. “Well, what brings you to our fine little town, um, Captain …?”
    “Fine town,” one of the other Diggers snickered. “They haven’t even got gas.”
    “It’s Lieutenant, actually,” the lead Digger said, “Lieutenant Argus Walter.” He gestured behind