by T J Reeder
While they used a mule to drag the two well away from camp I saddled Buck and headed after the third one who just had to be laying down the trail a ways, but all I found was some blood and an arrow. I took it back with me and let them figure out whose it was. Now we had a dilemma, stay or go? The girls voted to go and inside of an hour we were riding out of there. They had removed the weapons from the two dead men but other then that left them lay.
We rode all day and stopped to fix dinner then headed out and made more time. By dark we had found a place to double back and set up a camp away from the trail in a gully with a bit of water trickling down it. I headed out and closed in on our trail but it was full dark so I headed back. We spent a fireless night and were awake and loaded before there was even a gray place to the east. I headed back towards the trail and watched it for a good while before returning to camp where we studied the map.
I wasn’t sure why we were running but it seemed like the smart thing to do. We made a lot of miles that day and the next three before we stopped to rest after doubling back and doing every trick I ever read in the westerns I used to read. But a pack string like ours leaves a big trail and if we were being followed we would be found.
The last day we crossed a shallow but wide creek and rode down it a ways then headed back up then we left the creek in several places only to return to it in a different place. Then following the advice of every old Marine I served with “Head for the high ground.”
We lucked out by hitting a small trail and heading up it we came to a large clearing where the trail crossed right thru the middle and thru a gap in a rock wall. Behind the wall the trail dropped down into a deep canyon with heavy timber. We stopped right there on the canyon side of the gap and set up our camp.
The girls headed down the trail while I watched the back trail and asked myself why we were running; we had seen nobody, not even a ribbon of smoke anyplace. But I just knew we were being trailed so right here we would wait and let them bring it. If they were even out there.
One thing for sure anybody coming at us across that big meadow was in a big hurt. And we had the best fighting positions a body could ask for. And we needed to rest the stock and ourselves. So here we stand.
The girls returned and said the trail was a good one and went thru places that we could roll rocks down and block it for a good while. I explained the plan and they got to fixing dinner over as smokeless a fire as possible. I wasn’t worried about dealing with whoever came at us because we had things with us that would make a huge difference in any fight. I was most worried about being headed off by people who knew this area whereas we don’t but we have topographic maps so we can pick our way thru rough country where they will be forced to follow.
We stayed in this camp for three days and got plenty of rest, we rotated the night watch but with Walker there the watcher could cat nap. Walker had picked up our moods and stress and was hyper vigilant. I think he feels guilty that they rode right in on us. I sure as hell do.
On the third night Walker let out a low rumble that even I heard from the bedroll and I was up in a flash along with May who had just come to bed. We joined Sandy who was watching the clearing with the night vision gear we had picked up in the air base which was much better then the one I had way back when.
She whispered that three riders were sitting on horses in the clearing but didn’t seem to know about the gap in the rock wall. One thing I had done was fill it with brush that I cut and replaced daily making it look like a big bush growing out of the rock wall. Now at night they couldn’t see even the bush. I looked thru the glass as did May who said they were heading back out of the clearing. Right then I took the night glass and eased out thru the gap and around the edge of the clearing and followed them, I could hear them ahead of me and knew they were heading back to a small brook about a half mile away, and sure enough there was their camp with about a dozen men sitting around a small fire.
One of the three walked to a man sitting alone and said something to him, most likely that our trail went into the meadow.
I couldn’t get closer and really didn’t need to so I headed back and told the girls to saddle up awhile I packed the mules, in an hour with their help we were loaded up, they took the mules down the trail to a clearing with water and using a picket line tied them. May stayed there while Sandy came back to join me.
My idea was to face them right here to hear what they had to say and hopefully stop this crazy shit but I knew it wasn’t gonna work. One person could hold here for a long time but would eventually get flanked. I told Sandy what was going to happen and what I wanted her to do and she nodded with no arguments. I love these women, they are better at this Marine shit then some of the clowns I served with.
At last daylight came and with it a pair of scouts looking to follow the trail which would be all over the entire meadow since we had allowed the stock to graze there. Then after a bit a few more men rode out into the clearing followed shortly by a man on a beautiful horse who I figured just had to be the boss man. When they were all in the clearing there was a dozen of them. The scouts were riding all over the meadow and slowly working toward the brush filled gap. And finally one of them looked closer and then pulled a limb and the gap was exposed. The man who pulled the bush out got a real sick look on his face so I said quietly “Just sit real still and you might see tomorrows sun up.” And he froze. I asked why we were being chased and he said we had murdered his boss’s son and another man and wounded a third. Talking to him wasn’t going to cut it so I told him to call his boss over to where he was.
He yelled out and asked the man to come see this and of course he brought the entire bunch. When he was as close as I wanted him to get I said “That’s far enough.” He jerked his head up and all his men reached for weapons. I let the bolt slam shut on the AR10 and said “Let’s talk, we can fight later.”
The boss man looked up at the rocks and said “Mister there is nothing to talk about, you murdered my son and you’re gonna hang.” I could only shake my head and say “Well your son and his two friends rode into my camp, and made it plain that not only were they gonna kill me but were planning to take all my gear plus the two ladies traveling with me. So murder, armed robbery and kidnapping plus I would assume rape is ok with you as long as it’s your kid doing it?” He was glaring up at the rocks trying to locate me and said “You murdered my son!! Why makes no difference, he’s dead and your gonna die too.”
I could see no sense in talking further so I said “Fine, get on out of here before one of these fools following you decides to play hero for the boss.” The man next to him who had to be his forman said “Boss, we are in a bad spot, we can’t go forward and we are fish in a bowl.”
The old man glared at him and said “Brad if you’re gonna punk out on me then get on out of here, your fired.” The man named Brad just looked sadly at the old man and then up at where I was and shook his head and said “You’re making a mistake boss this ain’t some pilgrim we been chasing and we know there are at least three of them looking at us over gun barrels right now.”
The old man looked at him and said “Brad I fired you and you’re still here talking like a coward now go before I shoot you myself.” Brad turned his horse and rode away across and out of the meadow. I saw a couple of others look at each other and turn and ride away too. Well we were down to nine and hadn’t fired a shot. Talking does work but it wasn’t over yet, and wasn’t gonna be it looked like, so I tried talking some more. I told him the entire story of what happened and why it had ended the way it had, He actually looked up at the area where I was and said “Mister, I don’t care if my son raped your women, killed your dog, stole everything you have in this world, he was still worth more then you ever will be and you will pay. I gave up, and said “So the murdering little loudmouthed bastard could do as he wished and his stupid self-centered old man would let him do it simply because of who you are?”
Well he almost blew a vein. While he was trying to get the b
reath to yell I told his men that they could all die right here or head out and leave the crazy old son of a bitch to die like the fool he was.
He at last freed up his pistol and started firing at the rocks but had no chance to hit us. I figured about one more shot and Sandy would lose her hold on her temper and simply shoot the fool.
His men turned and rode away as quick as they could, leaving him alone fumbling to get a new magazine in his gun, but he dropped the gun and then threw the magazine at the rocks. I felt almost sorry for him but not much. He sat there for a bit then turned away and said as he went, “It ain’t over, I know who you are and I’ll send people to hunt you down and kill you, I’ll put a bounty on your head so big every gun thug in the country will come for you.”
I was tempted to just shoot him and put him out of his misery. I had a feeling I’d regret not doing it. We mounted up and headed out but Sandy said “Wait” and bailed off her horse and went thru the gap and was back in a second smiling. We met up with May and lit a shuck out of there.
Later that evening I remembered to ask Sandy why she went back thru the gap before we rode away, she smiled real big and from her saddle bag pulled a cloth wrapped object. I knew without looking it was a gun, it was the pistol dropped by the old man. I knew without looking it had to be another 1911 and it was. And not just any 1911, this one was a big hand cannon made by STI. It was called "The Perfect 10”, a 10 mm, long slide 6" barrel, holding 14 rounds of hard shooting ass kickers. It was done up with hard chrome and every bell and whistle one can hang on the frame, new retail had to have been close to $3000.00 and the old bastard had just ridden off and left it. She even found the magazine for it which was of course empty. I asked her what she was going to do with it because it was big, hell even in my hand it was a hand full. She just smiled that "I got bling smile" she gets when she scores a new toy. Her answer was of course that she didn't have one so therefore, needed one! She also had a evil little smile when she said “Yanno, this thing would fit Bear Jackson's huge cookie crushers!” And there in lay the truth. Bear had something she wanted and this was the prize to pry it out of his paws. Poor bear. She did say she needed a box of ammo so she could shoot it and of course May chimed in with WE need to shoot it. I know one thing for sure, neither will like it. If they kept it the damn thing would end up on the cabin wall alongside Old man Jones 45-70.
Two weeks later with more miles and switch back behind us then we could count we headed to a small town listed on the map as Rocky Point with a pre event population of 450 people. We rode into the town shortly after mid-morning and headed for the general store that every town seemed to have cropping up lately. Inside we found an older couple who smiled and asked what they could do for us. Sandy and May had a list they had worked up and they got what there was of it. After paying with junk silver we headed for the local café.
Inside we found a clean place with good smells and settled in to eat; the waitress told us what was on the menu for the day which was stew and fresh hot bread and butter. We ordered and ate then ordered again then had pie with it. We were just finishing up when three men walked in with badges on who came right to our table and asked if the mules were ours. I said “Yep they are, why?” He said there was a flier going around describing us and our livestock as wanted for murder and a reward for ‘Dead.’”
Well I knew I should have shot that old bastard but hind sight is always 20-20 vision. I asked them if they were there to collect on the reward and the speaker laughed and said “Hell no, we knew the little bastard y’all rid the country of and nobody will miss the twerp, but his old man has a lot of gold and some folks just ain’t picky about minor details like right and wrong.” I thanked him and said we were heading out right away, I paid the girl and tipped her and leave we did.
We headed back up into the higher country and made camp to talk about it. May was all for tracking the old asshole down and just shooting him. I said “Hold that thought.” We were faced with being forced to avoid places we would like to rest up in and being on the run wasn’t my idea of how our vacation should go. We had some coffee and batted ideas around until Sandy said “Fuck it, let’s just head right to that old bastards roost and say here it is come get it!” Between her and Doc I swear they would charge hell for the fun of rubbing it in Lucifer’s face.
We camped out in a nice little nook in a valley with a great stream running thru it and feasted on Brookies till I had to make them stop fishing. They don’t do anything half way. But the longer we sat there the madder I was getting so finally I said “What do y’all want to do about this bounty stuff?” They were packing up the camp before I got done asking. We headed out and made a bee line for the town nearest to where we thought this asshole had his place.
After a week of moving right along I figured it was a town named Pineville so that’s where we headed. When we got near the place I had to force the issue about them laying back while I went in on my own. It was a nice clean little town, it had some lookouts posted and other then waving me in they never said a word. I headed right for the local office of the town government such as it was; the sign said “Saloon, town hall, Church and any other thing we need it for.” I liked it! So tying Buck up I walked in and saw it was a clean quiet place with a few bottles of bar whisky as it was called. The bartender was friendly but could only smile when I ask for JW, so I went out and got a bottle from the saddle bags and took it in and poured both of us a drink, he did have some cold beer so that made a good chaser.
His name was Tome Lane and he had been here all his life. After another drink I asked him what the story was on the bounty I was hearing about. He made a face and said it was some outsider who had built a big stone house more like a fort up in the hills to the east and had moved in just before the EMP. He seemed to have prepared very well since it seemed like he had everything a person could want.
I said “Well hell maybe he knew something ahead of time.” That got his attention and a thoughtful look. He said the man’s son had got his ass killed trying to rob the wrong people and the old man was bound and determined to get revenge.
I asked who it was he was after but he didn’t know except there was an Indian involved because the two dead ones were killed with arrows and the one who got away had one thru his back that just missed a lung. I did ask where he got the information and was told the old man’s foreman had refused to get involved in murder so the old man fired him and he passed the word on his way out of the area.
I said it sounded like nobody had much sympathy for the man and he said nope but the kind of folks who would kill folks for a bounty don’t care about right or wrong. I heard the sound of several horses walking in the street and heard them stop, and sure as God made little green apples here come the troublesome twins.
Well the bartender took a double take and busted out laughing and said “Well you got me!” He offered the girls whatever they wanted but they said water was fine. I capped the bottle and gave it to him and took another cold beer then headed for a table in the corner close to a window where I told them the news. They said “Well let’s just wait right here in town and see what happens.”
The bartender said the motel had rooms as did the old town hotel which also served meals so that’s where we headed. The stock went into the hotel corral and barn where an old colored man ran things; he looked the stock over and said “Fine animals, very fine!” And he promised to take good care of them, I handed him a 20 dollar gold cartwheel and said “Let me know when this runs out.” He said “You know half the trash in the country is looking for y’all, right?” I said “Yeah, but thanks.” He promised he would let us know if anybody came around.
Walker listened to Sandy telling him to stay and guard the stock and told him the old black man was ok, His name was Charles and Walker seemed to agree he was ok.
We got two rooms right across the hall from each other, one looking at the barn and corral and the other out at Main Street and the saloon. I figured when it came it would b
e from two fronts and we held the high ground and both sides.
We hauled the packs with the hardware upstairs and set out our main weapons as well as body armor. We had just about anybody out gunned but shit happens. All we could do was wait and watch and hope none of the locals got hurt when it happened.
Well after a few days I was starting to wonder if we was wasting our time when old Charles came up and said a couple of strangers was snooping around the barn and Walker warned them off, but they looked like they would shoot a dog as fast as anything else.
I decided right then that I was moving down to the barn at night and see what I could catch. Well of course that didn’t work because they were going where I went so back to the barn with our gear we went. Well we could clean up in the rooms and even nap so we kept them.
That night went well as did the next; we spent time visiting folks in town and spending money and in general being nice folks. Everybody knew who we were and what was going on and seemed to see it as entertainment like a soap opera.
I guess I could understand that. But I hope they stayed low when it started. The only “lawman” in town was a night watchman who wandered around with a shotgun, we asked him to avoid the hotel area at night and he laughed and said “My mama didn’t raise a fool.”
The third day after we moved to the stable we were having breakfast in the hotel restaurant when a pickup rolled into town with a bunch of men in it who were obviously strangers since they were looking around like they hadn’t been here before. I counted seven, fair odds, all were armed with a typical collection of weapons. After looking around they headed for the hotel and as planned the girls split up and one went behind the counter and one went into the woman’s rest room.
I hadn’t wanted to have the ball open here but there it was, several of them split off heading in opposite directions while three headed into the hotel. One walked to the counter and started demanding information on who was staying here, Sandy was behind the desk and said “I’m sorry but that kind of information is not passed out.”