Shadow Walker

by J. R. Roberts

  “And you think you can believe that nonsense?”

  “I believe that Indian back there truly thinks we’ll be killed on our way to the camp or soon after we get there. Besides, I’m not going to take him as my only source of information. It’s just another piece of the big picture and we need to use every single piece we can find.”

  She began to nod. “I . . . want to come with you.”

  “We do seem to work pretty well together, but I don’t know if you’re ready to see this all the way through to the end.”

  “Why not?” she asked angrily.

  “For one thing, your temper damn near got us killed and almost called down the rest of those men over in that building,” Clint said while pointing to the smaller structure away from the more social businesses. “It may not be as late as we told that Indian, but those men aren’t going to be in there forever. One slip could either call down a whole lot more trouble or scare them off into hiding.

  “If Coltraine has been transporting kidnapped women for half as long as folks say he has, he’ll know his route like the back of his hand. He’ll also know plenty of ways to disappear if he thinks he’s being followed.”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I know that. I’m not stupid.”

  “You’ve made it this far, so I give you all the credit you deserve. But from here on, things will only get harder. You’ll need more than just tenacity to make it out alive. You need to know when to push your feelings down and when to lie low even though every inch of you will want to fight.”

  “I can fight as good as any man.”

  Clint pulled in a breath and forced himself to hold it until the frustration inside of him simmered down a bit. “How many times have you actually seen Coltraine?” he asked once he could keep his voice steady.

  After glaring defiantly at him for a second or two, Rachel let out a sigh of her own and lowered her eyes. “Not once.”

  “Me, either. This might be our first chance and I’d rather not let it pass by while we’re standing here arguing. If you want to help, you’ll have to realize that I may know a thing or two more about how to go about it.”

  “And you should realize that I can contribute some things as well. I’ve been following—”

  “That’s great,” Clint interrupted. “And I want to hear everything you’ve found out, but it’ll have to be later. Right now, we need to get in close to whatever is going on over there and we can’t be seen in the process.”

  For the first time since they’d met, Clint actually saw Rachel give a genuine smile. “I’m pretty good at sneaking.”

  “And if things go bad, you just follow my lead. All right?”

  After thinking it over briefly, she nodded. “All right.”

  “Now,” Clint said as he held out his hand, “I’ll need my gun.”

  Rachel’s hand went to the modified Colt stuck under her gun belt. It stayed there for a bit as she pulled in a deep breath. Finally, she removed the gun and held it out to him. It took another second, but she eventually let it pass into Clint’s hand.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Clint had to give her credit for at least one thing. Rachel certainly was one hell of a good sneak.

  After he’d pointed out a good way to get over to the small building where the other new arrivals had gone, Clint let Rachel lead for the rest of the way. She moved like a cat and barely seemed to take up more space than one. Keeping low while almost scampering on all fours, she stayed close to the building until she found a small, unattended window.

  Compared to her, Clint felt like he was marching over a field of crackling glass. Just before she’d found her spot, he almost lost sight of her altogether. Even when he got up beside her under that window, he swore she wasn’t even moving enough to pull in a breath.

  Without saying a word, she pointed up to the window. Clint nodded and watched as she inched her way up to get a look inside. Rachel lifted her face to the glass until the slightest sliver of light from within fell over the top of her head. As if sensing that light on her scalp, she froze and stayed perfectly still.

  Clint could hear voices on the other side of the wall and pressed his ear against it. Although he could tell the men inside the building were definitely having an important conversation, he couldn’t make out any kinds of details. The only thing he had to go on was the urgency in their voices and the quickness of their speech. Rather than keep trying to test the limits of his hearing, Clint moved around to look on either side of the building to make sure nobody was coming.

  The tired soldier was right where he’d been the last time Clint had checked. By the looks of him, the young man in uniform was more concerned with looking like he was awake than actually keeping watch on what was going on around him. As far as that went, there really wasn’t much going on.

  Since the fort had obviously been handed over to saloon owners, drunks, gamblers and a handful of working girls, the soldier didn’t really have any official business to tend to. Clint moved around the building as best he could until he heard the creak of hinges coming from the front door.

  Someone stepped out of the small building and quickly shut the door behind him. The man looked to be about the same age as the big Indian that was currently tied up in the abandoned livery. He wasn’t as big as Clint’s prisoner, but he made up for his lack of muscle by carrying at least three guns strapped to his waist and back.

  Clint was crouched with his back to the wall. He leaned out as far as he could, then was forced to brace himself with an outstretched hand. Holding the position wasn’t easy, but knowing that one slip would announce his presence to everyone inside was a big incentive to stay put.

  The man with the three guns stepped out and looked around. He put a cigarette between his lips, struck a match against the door frame and then lit up. While exhaling a plume of smoke, he looked around slowly. Although his attention was drawn to the saloon at first, he soon began to look over in Clint’s direction.

  It seemed as if the man could sense Clint’s eyes on him.

  The more Clint hoped for the man to look away, the more the man’s eyes were drawn to him. Soon, Clint felt a knot in his stomach as if a beam of light had suddenly been aimed at him. Gritting his teeth, Clint stayed quiet and didn’t move a muscle.

  He didn’t even creep back around the corner when the man stared straight at him and started walking in that direction.

  Less than a quarter of Clint’s face was peeking around the corner of the building. His hat was pushed to the back of his head and his feet were firmly planted, but Clint still felt like he was on the verge of stumbling or announcing himself some other way.

  Keeping his head in place, Clint reached around to place his hand upon the grip of his Colt. If things turned completely for the worst, he would at least be able to get off the first shot.

  The man took another few steps, but his eyes soon began to falter. Clint thought he was being overly hopeful, but he soon realized that the other man had walked through some light spilling out from one of the building’s front windows.

  The light wasn’t enough to cast any shadows, but it was enough of a contrast to the darkness outside that it caused the man’s eyes to readjust. After a few annoyed blinks, the man strained to catch sight of what he’d seen before and was unable to find a thing. Swearing under his breath, he turned on the balls of his feet and walked away.

  Clint let out a sigh of relief, but quickly sucked it back in again when he saw the man was now headed around the other corner. Even though that wouldn’t take him directly to where Clint was huddled, it would still lead around the building to where Rachel was peeking into the back window.

  Looking down and sifting through the dirt with his fingers, Clint was able to find a pebble that was just big enough to suit his needs. He picked out a target heading toward the saloon, took aim and whipped the pebble through the air.

  Although Clint didn’t hear anything, he’d found another pebble and tos
sed that one as well. This time, he heard a smack followed by a loud string of slurred obscenities.

  That sudden break in the silence caught the attention of the man with the three guns. He turned to look, but didn’t have eyes sharp enough to pick out the third pebble, which sped through the air to hit its target once more.

  This time, the man who’d been hit spun around to angrily look behind him. All he could see through the liquor-soaked haze in his head was the gunman standing outside the small building.

  “What the fuck is that?” the drunk hollered.

  The armed man stepped forward and said, “Just turn back around and mind your own business.”

  “What did you say?” the drunk replied as he stomped toward the small building.

  The gunman responded by taking the shotgun from his back and walking to meet the drunk halfway.

  Clint couldn’t have asked for a better result and hurried back around to check on how Rachel was faring.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Clint rounded the corner and nearly drew his gun out of pure reflex when he saw someone rushing straight at him. He kept his reflexes in check, however, when he caught sight of the blond hair tied behind the other person’s head.

  “Come on,” Rachel whispered as she grabbed Clint’s hand and dragged him around the building.

  Clint planted his feet and stopped her dead in her tracks once he saw where she was headed. “Not that way,” he insisted. “Over here.”

  Making sure they wouldn’t run into the man with the three guns as he made his way back to the building, Clint took Rachel to a thick patch of shadows against the fort’s perimeter wall. Once there, they both pressed their backs to the split logs and watched several men emerge from the building.

  Clint slid along the wall a ways until he was able to get a better look at all of the men at once.

  One of the last to step outside was a squat man in his late forties. Although he had one of the better-kept uniforms of the few soldiers left at the fort, he still looked a long ways from being up to army standards. A pronounced gut hung over his belt and the top two buttons of his shirt were open beneath his wrinkled, dark blue jacket.

  “. . . stay as long as you like,” the man in uniform said as he stepped into the open. “Just keep them women out of sight. I don’t want them attracting any undue attention.”

  Another of the men who’d walked outside wore a wide-brimmed hat hanging from a cord around his neck. Thick, dark hair sprouted in curls from his scalp and a curved mustache covered most of his upper lip. Even from where Clint and Rachel were hiding, the man’s demented smile could be seen.

  “Don’t worry none,” the man with the curly hair said. “My girls won’t give your whores no competition. I doubt some of ’em even know what it’s like to lay with a man.”

  That caused the man in uniform to raise his eyebrows. “Really? How much are you asking for them?”

  “More’n you can afford, Sergeant. That is, unless you want to work out a trade for future services here at your fine outpost.”

  The sergeant considered that for a moment before finally shaking his head. “I’d better not. I . . . that is, we need all the money we can get.”

  “That’s what I figured. The offer’s open, though, and a girl like one of these could turn one hell of a profit if you put her to work.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “All right, then. Have them supplies sent over before the morning. We aim to roll out of here before first light.”

  The sergeant touched his forehead in a halfhearted salute and watched as the man with the curly hair motioned for the rest of his gang to follow him toward the horses tied near the entrance of the fort.

  As they watched, Clint could feel the anger coming off Rachel in waves. The moment he felt her start to move away from the wall, he reached out with one arm to force her back into place.

  “Let me go,” she hissed. “That’s the man we’re after.”

  Keeping his voice down to a whisper, Clint said, “I agree. He’s also got the protection of what passes for soldiers at this fort. These men may not be much by military standards, but they’re armed and they’ll take commands from that asshole right over there.”

  “I didn’t come all this way to get this close and watch Coltraine leave.”

  Clint turned to look at her squarely, but didn’t relax the arm that was holding her back. “Remember when we agreed to work together?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing. If we’re to work together, we’ll need to trust one another. If not, you can rush off and take your chances with your gun and knife against at least half a dozen men who are armed and looking for trouble.”

  Rachel looked back and forth from Clint to the men working their way toward their horses. As she watched, the men climbed into their saddles, snapped their reins and rode through the front gates.

  “You’d damn well better have something better in mind,” she said.

  Clint showed her a grin and replied, “Oh, I just might.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sergeant Bray scratched his chin as he walked into the small building he used as an office. It wasn’t much, but it had served him well even when Fort Marsden was in active use. Even then, the fort wasn’t anything more than a stopover for army caravans and patrols to rest and replenish their supplies. To some degree, that’s all it was now.

  Back then, Bray had been in charge of keeping supplies stocked. When he’d gotten a promotion, he thought he might finally get posted somewhere closer to civilization. The fact of the matter was that the army wanted to shift its efforts into more important outposts, but it was too lazy to have Fort Marsden taken down.

  Bray’s promotion left him sitting behind a desk at the same damned fort. It wasn’t long before he allowed the other businesses to move in and set up for a fee and a cut of their profits. What made Sergeant Bray even madder was the fact that the army barely seemed to care, just as long as there were supplies set aside for the handful of men who came though every couple of months. Odds were that those men were on their way to an assignment just as bad as the one Bray was stuck with.

  Inside his office, Sergeant Bray had just gotten into his chair and put his feet on his desk when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. His first impulse was to close his eyes and pretend he wasn’t there. But the knocks came back and he realized it was only a pipe dream that he could truly vanish.

  When he opened his eyes again, he was still in his dirty little office within the dirty little fort. Since things couldn’t get much worse, he grunted for whoever was outside to come in.

  The door swung open and a pretty blonde stumbled inside.

  “What the hell?” Bray grunted as he squinted at the new arrival.

  Once the blonde moved in a bit farther, it was obvious that she wasn’t just stumbling. She’d been pushed by the rough-looking fellow who came in right behind her.

  “Who the hell are you?” Bray asked as he swung his legs down and stood up. “This is an official office, you know.”

  “I know,” Clint said. “I’m just a little late, is all. This one here got away.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “This one,” Clint repeated while shaking Rachel’s arm and speaking as if he were trying to teach a dog a new trick, “got away from me. Just tell me where Coltraine got off to.”

  “What business is that of yours?”

  “I’m riding with him, that’s what. This bitch here slipped loose just as we were headed into the fort and I was to round her up. It must’ve taken a little longer than he thought, because Coltraine ain’t nowhere to be found.”

  Sergeant Bray’s face was plump and sour, but his eyes were taking on more and more of a suspicious glint. “He didn’t mention a thing about this to me.”

  “Does he tell you everything that happens before and after we get here?” Clint asked in a voice that was so condescending he almost wanted to crack himself in the face.

>   While most men would have let Clint know right then and there how little they appreciated being talked to like an idiotic child, Sergeant Bray was used to it. In fact, he even relaxed a bit when he heard that tone in Clint’s voice.

  “He doesn’t tell me everything,” Bray groused, “but he also didn’t tell me he was short any men.” Eyeing Rachel carefully, he added, “Or women.”

  “Well, I’ve barely even seen him lately. Me and this pretty little lady have been escorting a pair of Indians. Perhaps you’ve seen them. One was a big fella with a knife as long as your arm and the other was carrying a pistol.”

  Bray nodded. “Yeah, I did see them two.” He squinted at Clint for a few seconds before adding, “Come to think of it, I may have seen you before. Sorry about all of this. It’s been a long day.”

  “Hey, don’t mention it. I usually get to travel with a whole cartload of fresh girls, but today I get to chase this one instead. I only hope she’s worth the trouble I went through to get her back.”

  “Where are them two Injuns?” Bray asked.

  “They’re waiting for me outside. I had to separate them from the missus here, before they spoiled the merchandise. I just needed to stop by here and find out where Coltraine’s going from here.”

  Bray stopped and looked at Clint as if he’d suddenly noticed a snout in the middle of his face. His mouth hung open and he blinked slowly while asking, “Didn’t you travel with Coltraine all the way here?”

  “Yes, but we got separated. Weren’t you listening?”

  “I was, but . . .”

  “Coltraine rides real careful and he doesn’t tell the rest of us where we’re going until we’re almost there. I know we’ll end up north, but it’s just not safe to plan on every camp until we know it’s clear.”

  Still looking dumbly at Clint, Bray took the opportunity to glance longingly at Rachel. He let his eyes wander over the front of her body and he didn’t try to hide it when they lingered in the vicinity of her chest. In fact, she’d even pulled open a button or two to make certain some attention would be pulled to that area.