Guns of the Waste Land: Departure: Volumes 1-2

by Leverett Butts

  Delores stood above her, her foot raised again for another kick. “Do you think I am estúpida, puta?” Her foot came down again. This time, Guernica was sprawled so that her belly presented an easier target.

  Guernica screamed.

  “You think I am blind, girl?” Delores bent down to Guernica’s face and yelled, “I can see what you are, mujerzuela.”

  “Por favor, señora,” Guernica cried, “please stop.”

  Delores kicked again, bringing a louder scream from Guernica that seemed only to encourage Delores, who aimed her next kick at her victim’s face. “See if he’ll want you now,” she screamed, “without teeth!” Kicked again, whipping Guernica’s head back so violently, that the rest of her body rotated around it like an axle.

  Guernica felt something insider her break, and her crotch grew wet.

  “Please, stop,” she cried no longer thinking, “you’ll hurt the baby!”

  “Bueno,” Delores screamed, bending over to pull the girl weakly to her feet, only to slap her face and shove her to floor again for another kick.

  Guernica wrapped herself into a ball, tucking her head under her knees and screaming in animal despair, no longer bothering to form words, and unaware of the sounds of feet rushing towards the kitchen, or the sound of Desiderio yelling from his study for his wife to be quiet while he worked.

  “You think I am blind?” Delores yelled. “I see the way he looks at you, now that you carry his child!” She raised her foot, this time, to stamp on Guernica’s head. “I will not allow you to take my pla—”

  Her words were cut off by the sound of a wet thump. Guernica opened her eyes and looked up to see Delores staring down at her, eyes wide and blood pouring from her head as an axe blade dislodged itself from her skull and her body slid loosely to the floor to lay facing Guernica.

  “Get up, querida,” Leonardo stood over her, one hand reached to help her stand, the other holding the woodaxe at his side. “Get up, we must go. Now.”

  He pulled his daughter to her feet and dragged her from the kitchen to the yard before she was able to control her own legs and run beside him, though at a limping gait. Her clothes were sodden, and her red-stained linen skirt clung to her legs as she ran, slowing her considerably.

  They made it almost to the cuadra before they heard Desiderio’s outraged screams from the kitchen door.

  “Parense!” he cried, “Stop, or I will call my men!”

  He did not give them time to stop, however, before he ran to the dinner bell in the yard and began pulling furiously on it, and yelling for his men-at-arms to come help him.

  ‘Help!” he yelled. “Asesinos!”

  Father and daughter ran to the fence dividing their land from the main road, but Guernica had trouble mounting the fence with her heavily sodden clothes. As she ran from the kitchen, she had been able to ignore the pain from her bruised abdomen and face, but now, as she stopped and tried to climb the fence, she found herself wincing in pain.

  “Papi, I cannot do it. It hurts too much.”

  Leonardo turned to gauge the distance between themselves and Desiderio, who now was running towards them with half a dozen of his men. He turned back to his daughter, leaned the axe against the fence post, and picked her up.

  “Grab the top of the fence and pull, hija,” he strained to maintain his hold on her as she did so, keeping one eye on their pursuers, “let gravity do the rest.”

  Guernica did as she was told, landing on the far side of the fence and rising to her feet. Her father, she saw, had grabbed the axe again and was testing its weight in his hands. “Run north, hija,” he told her looking back at her with a smile. “I will try to catch up with you, but do not look back.”

  “But Papi …” She was not allowed to finish.

  “I must make sure they cannot follow.” Leonardo began moving back towards the house. “You run.”

  Then he ran headlong into his pursuers, who were trying to load their rifles or draw sabres, his axe swinging. She heard a familiar dull thump as axehead made contact with head before she turned and ran.

  The last thing she remembered as she crested the hill on the other side of the road and disappeared into the wilderness was hearing a volley of rifle and gun fire behind her followed by an unnerving silence. Despite her father’s command, she looked back and could just make out the shapes of Desiderio upon the ground cradling his arm as his men circled around a prone form kicking and stamping upon it.

  She knew her father would not catch up to her.

  V.

  The moon has risen almost to its midpoint when Guernica shivers, turns in Lancaster’s embrace to face him. Wet cheek laying against his chest.

  “We should go in now,” she whispers and without removing his arms, Lancaster guides the two around and toward the door of the watchtower. “It’s too cold,” She confesses, “and I am tired.”

  Chapter Five – Gary Wayne & Boris

  I.

  The moon had risen almost to its midpoint when Gary Wayne rose from the hill overlooking Fort Joye, folding his field glasses into a small cylinder that fit handily in Gringo’s saddle bag. He had been watching he fort most of the afternoon, trying to get a lay of the land, an idea of the strength of the fort and the routines. He had watched Guernica standing on the ramparts for the last few hours.

  At first, he feared she had seen him despite the distance and the cover he took behind a rockfall. She had spent much of the evening and early night with her staring west, seemingly directly at him, but he realized that with the sun behind him, she would not be able to make him out if he had been dancing naked on Gringo’s back waving a torch. Then, after the sun set, she slowly turned and stared east. When she did not point his position out to Lancaster when he joined her, Gary Wayne knew his position was safe.

  Now it was too dark to see much even with a full moon to light the walls, so Gary Wayne settled in to sleep. He could not risk a campfire this close to his quarry, so he removed his saddle blanket and nudged Gringo to the ground, snuggling against the horse’s side to provide much needed body heat. Tomorrow he would again take up his field glasses and observe the fort. He reckoned another day of watching would glean him as much information about the fort’s strength and daily routines as he was likely to get before he made his move.

  Besides, he thought as he pulled the blanket over him and pushed himself more firmly into the horse, Boris’ll be done caught up with me by then. Ain’t no way he didn’t follow on behind me when he woke up so he can’t be more’n a day behind me, and I will need his help to get this done, I reckon.

  Truth be known, Gary Wayne was all for sneaking in during the dead of night, finding Lancaster’s bunk, and slitting his throat in the dark. He could muffle Guernica, bind her arms, and then take her back to Ardiss, dragging her behind his horse if need be. However, something stayed his hand. He felt in his gut that he needed to wait for something. Probably Boris.

  “If ye take nae else away from our time together,” Lancaster had told him all those years ago, “Mark this and mark it well. Trust your gut, boy. It’ll lead you where you need to be more times than not.”

  II.

  Bert Selleck led the way back to Lancaster and Gary Wayne’s campsite without once asking directions or even looking quizzically in their direction.

  “This ain’t right, Lank,” Gary Wayne muttered as he walked beside his friend a few paces behind the newcomer. “This fella must have been spying on us. How else you explain him knowing where we was camped?”

  Lancaster smiled as he rested his hand casually on the butt of his revolver. “Aye,” he answered quietly as they caught up with Selleck and walked into their campsite, “mayhap he did. But I can think of more than one reason he might’ve done so. Be steady, Gary Wayne.” Lancaster and Gary Wayne looked around the site. Their horses were still standing, tethered to a Joshua tree where Lancaster had left them before setting out. The fire embers were still glowing red since Gary Wayne had had to leave them before c
overing them with sand. The coffee pot still sat on a rock in the fire-circle, steaming even. There was, however, no sign of the three women. Lancaster leaned to Gary Wayne’s ear. “But donnae let yer guard down all the same.”

  “Well,” Selleck said with a hint of a grin as he turned to face the two gunslingers. “It would appear the ladies have absconded.” He raised his arms in a kind of shrug and gestured around the campsite. “You may,” he almost winked, “want to make sure they didn’t abscond with anything else.”

  Lancaster moved to the horses and began untying them from the tree. “We left nothing here,” he explained, “that we cannae easily do without.” He turned to Gary Wayne. “Let’s go, lad. We’ve wasted enough of the day as it is.”

  Gary Wayne looked at the sky, surprised to see the sun westering so far. It was easily nearing midafternoon, and the young man felt his energy draining. It seemed only an hour at most since they had set their coffee down and moved in pursuit of the women’s tyrant.

  Selleck observed this, his hint of a smile neither growing nor disappearing. “Heh,” he chuckled as if he could read Gary Wayne’s thoughts. “Time does seem to fly, doesn’t it?”

  Gary Wayne said nothing, simply began picking up the rest of their camp kit—the coffee mugs and pot, a stray fork and tin plate—and stowing it in his saddlebags. Lancaster, meanwhile, patrolled the perimeter of their site, scanning the scrub for signs of the missing women with no success. It really did seem that they had disappeared. He moved back toward his horse, who looked uneasily at Selleck.

  “Easy, Concord,” he soothed as he pulled himself into the saddle, “we’ll be headin’ on directly.”

  Gary Wayne had mounted Gringo by this time, and he turned to the stranger and tipped his hat. “I reckon we’ll be moving on,” he said with a glance to Lancaster and back to Selleck. “Apologies for wasting your time and ours with this fool’s errand.”

  Lancaster nodded his agreement as he reined Concord around to his partner’s left side and the two ambled past Selleck.

  “Hold up,” Selleck said as Lancaster passed him. The two men pulled their horses to a stop and turned to look at him over their shoulders. “It appears to be nearing dark, and I do not suppose the two of you will get very far before you have to stop again and set up camp.”

  “Aye,” Lancaster agreed, “tis a fact indeed. What of it?”

  “My farm is not much more than a three hour ride east of here,” Selleck explained pointing in a generally eastward direction, “I’d be happy to put the two of you up tonight, seeing as it lies in your way and will get your further on your quest while saving you the time of pitching camp again in an hour or two.”

  Gary Wayne gave Selleck a hard stare. “I thought you said the farm was just over that hill yonder.”

  “It is,” Selleck affirmed. “About three hours over it, give or take.” He winked at Gary Wayne and smiled broadly, “Time, as you well know, is a might hard to measure here in the desert.”

  Gary Wayne would have none of it. “And what,” he demanded, “would you know of our quest? I don’t recall saying anything about it.”

  Lancaster interjected before Selleck could respond. “We’d be happy for your hospitality, sir,” he said and glanced Gary Wayne silent. “Indeed, we would.”

  Selleck mounted his horse then and moved in front of the two lawmen. “And I, good sirs, will appreciate the company. It does get lonely out here, especially this time of year.” He snapped his reins and clicked his throat, and his horse moved to a moderate trot. “Follow me, then, gentlemen.”

  III.

  True to his word, it took Selleck about three hours to lead Lancaster and Gary Wayne to his farm, which he had named High Desert, since it was situated on a slight hill but still firmly in the Waste Land. The sun was indeed setting by the time the three riders arrived at the front gate. Selleck dismounted to open the gate and waved the other two through.

  “When you get to the end of the path,” he told Lancaster and Gary Wayne, “you will see the barn on your left. Stable your horses and go on in the house. Make yourself at home.”

  “Will ye not be accompanyin’ us, then?” Lancaster inquired.

  Gary Wayne merely sat his horse, his eyes on his host and idly scratching the inside of his right nostril with his thumb.

  Selleck led his horse through the gates, latched the gate behind him, and remounted. “I will be along directly,” he replied spurring his horse, “I need to check on a few things around the property before it gets much darker. Go on in. Sofia, my mother-in-law, will make sure you are taken care of.”

  He rode northeast towards the alfalfa fields, and Lancaster eyed his partner and shrugged. “Well, laddie,” he said kicking his own horse into a walk, “I reckon we’ve no choice but to take the gentleman up on his offer.”

  Gary Wayne shrugged as he moved Gringo alongside Lancaster and Concord. “I don’t know, Lank,” he glanced northeast to make sure their host was not within earshot, “There’s something not right about this whole thing if you ask me.”

  “Indeed?” Lancaster eyed his companion and smiled, “And what has ye fashed so?”

  “Lots of things,” Gary Wayne began counting out fingers. “Them women couldn’t have gone far in the time we were gone, and they didn’t leave no trace. But you saw them as well as I did, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “That’s one. Two: It seems damned convenient that we find him just as soon as we start looking for him.”

  “Well, now, the lassies did say he was chasing them.”

  “And he claims he wasn’t, and you and I both think them ladies was lying.” Gary Wayne raised a second finger followed immediately by a third. “And if Selleck wasn’t chasing them, women, what the Sam Hell was he doing out there when we found him? He couldn’t have been riding to town; there ain’t one in the desert. He turned around back home as soon as we met him without a thought or concern about whatever errand he was on. I tell you, Lank, it don’t add up. Slice it any way you want, and it still don’t add up.”

  “And ye have a theory I take it.”

  “The beginnings of one, yeah. I think he was looking for us.”

  “And why would he be doing that? And how would he know where to find us?”

  Gary Wayne looked away from Lank and shrugged in defeat. “Well, I don’t know, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “It’s what yer gut tells ye?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then we best listen to it.” By this time, they had reached the house, a large wooden one-story farmhouse, and Lancaster dismounted Concord. “You go on and stable the horses, and I’ll check on the house, feel out this ‘Sofia.’” He handed Concords reins to Gary Wayne when the younger man dismounted. Gary Wayne nodded and moved the horse to the barn. “And Gary Wayne,” Lancaster said before they had moved to far apart, “For the record, I agree with you. There’s something dodgy about the whole thing, but my gut tells me we have to see this through.”

  Gary Wayne grunted and led the horses into the barn.

  After Gary Wayne had unsaddled the horses, fed them, and brushed them down, he threw blankets over them and left the barn, closing the doors firmly. Selleck had not returned, or if he had, he had not yet stabled his horse, so Gary Wayne stopped short of closing the padlock on the doors. If this deal goes South, he thought shaking his head, I do hope Selleck doesn’t make a habit of locking the barn.

  Between the barn and the house was a stone well with a wooden bucket attached to a hand crank. Gary Wayne was surprised to see three women standing at the well when he passed. The oldest looked to be in her sixties and had her white hair in a tight bun. She seemed to be saying something to the middle woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties and wore her brown hair long and hanging over her shoulders. She, in turn, seemed to be motioning to the youngest woman, a girl, really, who appeared about fifteen and wore her blonde hair in to pigtails on either side of her head. She was turning the crank, but si
nce the bucket was out of sight, Gary Wayne could not tell if she was raising or lowering it.

  As he drew near, the girl saw him first and turned to the brunette. “Teresa,” she said with an accent Gary Wayne could not place and nodded in Gary Wayne’s direction.

  Teresa lightly slapped the girl’s shoulder and motioned her to keep turning the crank. “Mind your work, Verda,” she said in the same accent, pronouncing work almost as verk, “We can deal with him.” Verda cranked the handle faster, but the rope appeared to be not moving at all. She gave Gary Wayne one more curious look and Gary Wayne felt himself blush. Despite her apparent age, Verda’s look made him feel like she could see not only how he looked naked, but how he looked in swaddling clothes and short breeches.

  Cautiously, Gary Wayne drew closer eying each of the women in turn. Finally, he said to the oldest, “You must be Sofia. Mr. Selleck said you’d be able to help my partner settle in. He’s already inside, though.”

  The old woman stared at Gary Wayne in a way that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.

  She shook her head slowly and said, her voice chilly. “You may call me Hiverna.”

  Gary Wayne felt his spine tingle. I’m damned if she doesn’t know how I’ll look in my coffin, he thought. Trying now to avoid her gaze and looking into the eyes of her younger companion. There was something familiar about them, but he was sure he’d not seen them before.

  “Have you told him?” Verda asked still turning the crank.

  Teresa slapped her shoulder again but looked sadly at Gary Wayne. “You should not be here,” She said. “It is dangerous.”

  Gary Wayne found his voice. “Dangerous how?”

  Teresa shook her head somberly and just repeated. “You should not be here.”

  Gary Wayne turned to Hiverna. “Why should I have not come?”