A Cinnabar Sky

by Billy Kring

  Her heart raced. Her friend was alive. He found them and was coming. She almost teared up, but held the emotions in check and turned to face Winston. The old man said, “In one way, you two helped me out. When my son, Vincent went missing, I thought that was the end of it because he’d opposed me at every turn after he hooked up with that Mexican whore.”

  Hunter said, “I don’t understand.”

  “He wanted to marry her, a goddamn Mexican. Well, I couldn’t allow that to happen. We Harts are not mongrels.”

  Mike Hart stood stock still, listening as a feeling like a finger tickling his spine came with his father’s words.

  RL walked to the entrance and scanned the terrain, uneasy for some reason. He also didn’t want to hear what Winston Hart said about Mexicans and Vincent Hart, the man’s own son.

  He spotted something moving through the brush at a distance of one hundred yards. RL thought a coyote at first, then realized it was a man, one he knew. Raymond Flores, the Border Patrol Agent. He wasn’t in uniform, but he was armed. “Shit!”

  The others looked at him and he said, “Guy coming on foot.” He pointed at Hunter, “Her partner, the other Agent.”

  Winston Hart kicked a small stool and said, “That damn nigger said he killed Flores.”

  RL said, “There’s been a resurrection, then, because he’s right out there.”

  Ellis motioned for the others, then led three of them outside, where they opened fire at Raymond with machine guns and shotguns.

  Raymond crouched behind some dry brush when the shooting began, and one of the first bullets cut through the gray and brown twigs to spray his face with exploding dry branches and leaves, filling his mouth with stiff pieces of the plant. He kneeled and coughed and spit the pieces out on the ground like a mouth full of old potpourri.

  Bullets zipped and popped and whined all around him while he lay on the ground and used a finger to scrape stiff bits of plant from his mouth and tongue. The firing increased, sending rounds within inches of him, and Raymond backed down the slope to be out of range.

  Ellis said to the others, “He’s below the rise. We’ll go out and flank him, get him in a crossfire. Let’s go.”

  Ellis took a reluctant RL with him, and the others moved to the south side. They went at a slow walk, with rifles ready at their shoulders, searching for the man they wanted to kill.

  Raymond had already departed by the time they talked. He waded waist-deep in the Rio Grande by the time they circled the area where he had been. Raymond knew it served no good if he was killed while trying to rescue Hunter and the boy. He wasn’t in a panic of flight, but instead, waded upriver until he made a circle all the way around the church and the armed men, then snuck into the town of half-demolished and abandoned buildings, spotting some old, yet serviceable heavy equipment that someone kept in repair. The one in the best shape was an old, yellow D-7 cable bulldozer from the forties.

  He climbed the bank through a narrow trail in the river cane, and peered over the bank’s edge at the church. The armed men still scoured the rise, working their way toward the river, but were a half-mile behind from where Raymond watched them.

  A movement near the D-7 caught his attention, and he spotted a slender man, seventies, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he watched the church area from the safety of an old building near the bulldozer.

  He spotted Raymond, then signaled him to come to the building by using hurry motions using his hands. He disappeared into the building and Raymond crouched as he ran through the low creosote and small mesquite bushes, working to stay out of sight of the gunmen.

  When he was thirty yards from the building, the man appeared again and said, “Andalé, hurry, they’re coming this way.” He didn’t yell, but his voice carried the urgency of the moment.

  Raymond scurried as low and quick as he dared, all the while watching the armed men moving toward him, but not aware he was there.

  He circled behind the dozer and made it inside. The man motioned him further into the shadows and said, “They’re after you in Mexico? What did you do?”

  “They have a little boy and my partner in there, and are going to kill them.”

  “Is your partner the woman, Kincaid? We know of her down here.”

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You have any rifles?”

  “This is Mexico, Flores, we are not allowed to have weapons.”

  Raymond looked at him, “And this is La Linda.”

  The man let a fleeting ghost of a smile show, then said, “I might have one.”

  “Can I use it, and some ammo?”

  He walked to the inside corner of the building and moved a tool box, revealing a hidden cabinet. He opened it and took out an AK-47 with a thirty-round clip, walked to Raymond and handed it to him. He said, “There are two spare clips inside, if you want them.”

  Raymond said, “Thanks.” He got the two extra clips and slid them into his cargo pants pockets.

  “Flores, how about this dozer? It can do some damage, you know.”

  “That would help. One other thing, stop calling me Flores. My first name is Raymond.”

  “I can do that. Do you want me to drive so you can shoot?”

  “I may not have to shoot.”

  “Amigo, you are Patrulla, and one of those hunted. I believe you will have no other choice.”

  Raymond didn’t argue. He said, “We don’t want to shoot people, but when they shoot at us, we defend ourselves.”

  The man nodded in understanding, “Yes, I believe you. You two are not sicarios, like those murderers with the cartels. But still, you have killed people, I believe.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Joaquin Robles. I used to live in Marfa, not far from your home. My wife sold tamales to your wife, Connie.”

  “I remember you. What are you doing down here?”

  “My wife died five years ago. I was born here, so I came back.”

  Raymond said, “You sure you want to help me? It’ll get dicey.”

  I was in the Hundred and First Airborne in nineteen-seventy in Vietnam. Had action at Fire Base Ripcord and a few other places, so I’m no stranger to it. Do you have a plan?”

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Joaquin thought a moment, “They in the church?”

  “Except for those four outside hunting me. I’m thinking two, maybe three at the most, and Hunter and Adan, all at the rear of the church. I spotted those two while they had the front doors open.”

  “How about I drive the dozer and you work the rifle. I’ll go to the church and scrape a corner to open it up, then Hunter and the kid can come out, or you can go in. We’ll have to be quick when we do it.”

  “We can’t outrun the gunmen on a dozer.”

  “Won’t have to. We only have to make it back here and we can get in my Suburban parked at the back.” Raymond nodded and both men walked to the old D-9.

  Raymond said, “A cable rig, huh?”

  “Uh-huh. Made in 1941, and still has the original cables on it to work the blade. I’ll have the blade up high so it’ll give you cover.”

  “Thanks.”

  Both men climbed on the big machine and Raymond said, “If you can, knock that rear corner off the church, the one by the big rock.”

  “I’ll do that and push the rubble out of the way so you’ll be able to run.”

  Raymond nodded, worked the bolt to load the AK, and took a seat so he had a good field of fire. Joaquin started the dozer toward the church as the cables raised the blade to a point where Raymond could see over it, but his body was protected. The dozer moved fast and smooth across the yard and reached the Church in less than a minute. The armed men outside church stopped their recon, then watched for a moment before Ellis yelled at the others and they hurried to help.

  Raymond put two fast rounds into the brush near Ellis, scattering the men. Two dropped to the ground, but RL and Ellis crouched and continued to advance, f
iring as they went.

  The .223 rounds from Ellis’ AR-15 made crack-crack-crack sounds and the bullets zinged and moaned as they ricocheted off the dozer blade. Raymond’s AK rounds were louder and deeper, with boom-boom-boom-boom echoing off the church.

  Men scurried from inside, and yells and shouts filled the air as Joaquin drove the big machine to the back of the church and into the wall at the far corner beside the big rock.

  The blade lowered and dug into the white wall just below knee level. A bullet zinged off the back of the blade and both Joaquin and Raymond jerked in reflex. Raymond glanced behind the dozer to spot Ellis firing again, and this round barely missed Raymond’s chin, coming so close he felt the feathery push of air as it passed. He jerked his head, and turned to spray the AK in the direction of Ellis, who dropped out of sight in the brush.

  Joaquin worked the blade and gunned the motor. The wall began to give, showing jagged, lightning-like cracks as it opened and traced the edges of the adobe bricks under the stucco. He steered the dozer slightly off-center and the blade hooked one of the bricks, pulling a door-sized opening in the wall as it also toppled the big white boulder at the corner.

  Ellis rose to his knees and snapped off several rounds, all of which hit the church wall. Raymond fired back, and both men missed. He turned and yelled into the new opening in the church, “Hunter! Come out! It’s Raymond!”

  More men joined Ellis. All of them opened up on the dozer and the two men half-hidden in the cab. Bullets slapped metal all around them.

  Joaquin said, “Shit!”

  Raymond looked in the hole one more time to see no one. He said to Joaquin, “Get us out of here.”

  Joaquin didn’t wait, but turned the dozer and sped off the rise and back into town, all the while with bullets striking around them.

  Raymond felt terrible, constantly looking back at the church, hoping for a glimpse of Hunter and the boy. When the rise blocked his view, he stopped looking, but his thoughts were with his friend.

  Chapter 14

  Hunter and Adan huddled together near the church’s rear wall as Winston Hart held a large Colt Government Model .45 on them. They heard everything going on outside, but didn’t know the specifics. A loud motor was coming closer, they knew that for sure, as it made slight vibrations pass through the church to send fine dust floating down from the damaged ceiling.

  Winston said, “I should shoot you two right here.”

  Hunter said, “You ever kill somebody before?”

  “No, but I often wondered about it.”

  “Not as easy as you think. It’ll damage your soul, Winston.”

  “My soul is fine.”

  She looked at him as she pushed Adan behind her. “Why murder us?”

  The heavy machine outside the wall grew louder.

  “Because you two are challenging me, challenging my legacy.”

  “No, we’re not. We only want to get away and live.”

  “You, Kincaid, can’t keep your nose out of my business. You’ve caused Ellis untold trouble, not only recently but over the last two years with your interference.”

  “What, smuggling people and drugs? You think that’s okay to do? You and Ellis are not above the law, you sick sonofabitch.”

  Winston’s smile was thin, malicious. “Yet, here we are, with you and the little bastard soon to die, and me to continue as a successful businessman.”

  The church shuddered. Plaster fell off the rear wall like broken eggshell. A blade of light came through the wall, low near the floor, and ran up in a jagged pattern. The big engine right outside the wall groaned with effort.

  Winston stepped back as his attention went to the wall, and took out his iPhone. Hunter dropped to a squat and picked up several pieces of plaster. She rose and threw them sidearm at Winston’s face like she was skipping a stone across water.

  Adan copied her, and both threw as fast as they could pick up material to toss.

  Winston yelled and stepped further back, dropping the phone which Hunter snatched from the floor. Hart’s pistol was now used to ward off flying pieces of stucco from his face.

  Hunter nailed him two good ones in the forehead and cheek, where one piece of stucco broke apart and shot grit into Winston’s eyes.

  A groaning shudder went through the entire church and a door-sized portion of the rear wall behind them gave away, opening a hole to the outside. At the same time, gunfire became more intense with bullets hitting the church wall and the dozer. Hunter caught a glimpse of Raymond firing back and of another, older man driving the machine. Firing increased, and the dozer swung away, increasing its speed as it evaded the shooting, and disappearing from Hunter’s sight while it rumbled down the gentle slope toward the ghost town. Raymond fired his weapon, but it soon stopped, as did the firing from Ellis and his men.

  Hunter pushed Adan out the opening and followed after him. Winston wiped his eyes and tried to clear them enough to shoot. By the time he could see, the two were gone.

  As Adan passed through the rent in the wall, he saw the big boulder had also been toppled by the dozer’s blade. In the hole at its base was a small metal box. He picked it up and continued on as Hunter stayed behind him to guard the boy from bullets.

  Hunter said, “Go to the town. We’ll try to join with Raymond.”

  “Okay.” Adan trotted toward the abandoned buildings, keeping close to the tread tracks of the dozer. Hunter stayed at his rear and glanced back every few steps to look for pursuit.

  When they reached the first abandoned building, Hunter said, “Stop here a minute. I want to watch our back-trail.”

  She remained at the corner and peeked around it to check the rear of the church and in the terrain near it for any pursuit.

  Adan opened the box in his hands. It was the size of a deck of cards, made of aluminum, and the lid opened and closed the way an aluminum lozenge box did. Inside it was a folded paper. It wasn’t writing paper, but fancier than that, he noted. Thick, with ornate filigree along the edge. When he had it open, Adan read. His heart stopped.

  “What is it?” Hunter asked him.

  He handed it to her because he couldn’t talk from the emotion of it.

  Hunter glanced once more around the corner, then read the paper. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, “God-o-mighty, Adan.”

  A voice came from the other end of the building, “Y’all hold it right there.” It was RL, holding a rifle on them.

  Hunter slipped the paper to Adan and pushed him behind her, whispering, “escóndelo.” Adan did as she said, and hid the paper in his pants after refolding it, and doing so where RL couldn’t see him while he used Hunter’s body as a blind.

  RL said, “I don’t want to shoot you, but you need to stand still till Ellis gets here. He’s coming.”

  “You’d shoot me?” Hunter said.

  “Wouldn’t want to, but yeah, I would. Then the kid.”

  “I thought we were going to hook up soon.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be possible now.”

  “You sure?”

  Sounds of running feet came to their ears. “I’m sure.”

  Ellis showed, as did two others, and Winston, still rubbing his eyes. Ellis said, “You two are slick as teflon, you know that? But now it is over.” He turned to one of the others, “Miguel bring the ride down here.”

  Miguel nodded and trotted into the ghost town, disappearing from their view. They heard a motor start somewhere in the distance a short time later, and Miguel returned in a brown Land Cruiser.

  Ellis motioned for Hunter and Adan, “Get in.” He held the rear door open for them. When they were inside, Winston got in the front passenger seat and held his pistol on them. RL got in beside Adan, and Ellis slipped behind the steering wheel. He said to the two men still standing outside, “Hunt Raymond Flores down.”

  Miguel said, “And the other guy?”

  “He’s collateral damage.”

  “Seguro, jefe.”

  Hunter f
elt a jolt go through her at that, and she started to lunge over the seat, but RL touched her ribs with the barrel of his pistol, “Don’t.”

  Ellis smiled at her in the rearview mirror, “He will, too. Won’t even hesitate.”

  Adan didn’t want to see Hunter killed in front of his eyes, and whispered to her, “Senor Raymond, he is bravo. Do not worry for him.”

  Hunter settled back, and thought about some way, any way, to escape.

  Ellis drove from the buildings of La Linda and took a road toward the south. As they passed the last building that was nothing more than a pile of sticks and rubble, everyone heard the long rattle of machine gun fire, then silence.

  Hunter silently mouthed Raymond, without realizing she did it, and felt like someone kicked her in the stomach.

  Ellis said, “Your buddy should have retired a long time ago. Too bad.”

  Winston added, “He was a greaser, not a big loss.”

  Hunter looked at him long enough for the man to become uncomfortable under her stare. “There’s a reckoning coming,” she said.

  Ellis said over his shoulder, “You won’t be there to see it.”

  “It’ll still happen.”

  Ellis turned onto a ghost of a road that wound down into a long, shallow valley, then an hour later, came up out of the far end and into terrain of low, brushy hills and draws filled with small boulders, rocks and sand. Ellis turned northwest and continued on the bumpy, ragged path. In the distance were higher hills, and the beginnings of mountains.

  Adan thought he recognized the area. He’d come to it before, from a different angle, but this was in the general place where the abandoned mine was located somewhere ahead of them. It was on the slope-sided hill where the first mountain rose dramatically behind it.

  Ellis drove across the countryside rather than on any road, and it bounced and shook the passengers until their headaches grew to throbbing tumors of pain. Hunter said, “You trying to shake us to death, driving like this?”

  Ellis said, “Shut up, smartass. This way will take two hours off the time to get there.”

  “Where is this there you’re talking about?”

  Ellis pointed, “Up that rise to the abandoned mine. You know, you’ve been there before.”