A Lesson Learned: Red: Book 3

by Darrell Maloney

  Now Stance was in a quandary. He’d lost all feeling in the arm. He couldn’t wiggle his fingers. Not even a smidgen. He’d taken the arm out of the sling a couple of times, only to have it fall limply at his side.

  The drugs Doc Martin gave him helped him stay comfortable, but his head was cloudy all the time. Morphine was good stuff, he’d decided. He might keep using it after he healed.

  He was pissed off and didn’t care who knew it. That red-headed woman had crippled him, just as sure as if she’d pulled the trigger herself.

  And worse than that, she’d bested him. Stance was sure the men were laughing at him behind his back, guffawing about how a little spit of a red-haired woman crippled him and made him run.

  Stance wasn’t aware that paranoia was one of the side effects of morphine use.

  All he knew was, contrary to what the Bible said, vengeance was his. That the red-headed woman would pay.

  His posse has been gone for several days. That wasn’t good news. For it had taken Stance only a few hours’ time to get back to his headquarters from the ranch house where he’d been shot.

  Had his men found the woman still there, it wouldn’t have taken this long for them to accomplish their mission and return with her.

  Only two possibilities made sense to Stance. First, that his men had mutinied. That they’d been cowards all along. That they’d been dispatched to kill the shooter and to bring back the girl, and had instead headed for the hills.

  The thought was ludicrous, that eight of his best men would run.

  But to a wounded man whose mind was clouded by a powerful narcotic it seemed perfectly logical.

  The other possibility was that the woman and her accomplice ran. And that they had to be tracked down.

  Stance never did get a look at the horses. They’d been hidden in the barn where the shots came from. He didn’t know if they were speedy quarter horses in their prime or if they were broken down old nags in their last days.

  If they were fast and able, and if they left the ranch just after Stance did, then they might have gotten a wide head start on his posse.

  And as any outlaw who’d ever outrun a posse knew, posses were at a major disadvantage. In the same manner a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, a posse is only as fast as its slowest horse. A posse has strength in numbers. Moving fast and leaving its slower members behind would diminish those numbers and take away its advantage. Many an outlaw in the old west was able to elude their captors simply by outrunning them.

  It was one of the reasons a fast horse was so valued in the old west.

  Especially by outlaws.

  In modern times, a year after the worst disaster mankind had ever experienced, the same was true.

  As he nursed his injured arm, Stance paced back and forth on the front porch of his headquarters. He gazed out to the east, hoping to see the figures of six men on horseback break upon the horizon.

  Along with a riderless horse and another carrying a woman.

  He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the bitch who’d defied him. Humiliated him. And then crippled him.

  Chapter 49

  Jacob was puzzled.

  “Outsmart them how, exactly?”

  “They know we’re here. They’re waiting until sunrise to show themselves. Maybe to attack us. Or maybe to just come over and say ‘howdy’ and ask what we think about the Dallas Cowboys’ chances this year.”

  “Uh… Red… I don’t think the Cowboys are playing this year.”

  “Gee. Ya think?”

  “Sorry. I guess you were just being a smartass, huh?”

  “Yeah. Kinda. Anyway, we’re gonna try to convince them we’re gonna camp here for the rest of the night. We’re gonna build a little campfire and hobble the horses. Then we’re gonna try to outflank them and get to their east.”

  “What if they attack the camp?”

  “Then they won’t find us. They’ll likely take the horses and leave us afoot, but at least we’ll be alive. And that’ll give us the elements of surprise and light.”

  He was even more puzzled.

  “Now what does that mean?”

  “If they invade the camp we’ll know they’re hostile. And we won’t be there. We’ll be watching from a distance. And when they go in there with guns blazing, they’ll see nothing on our bedrolls except blankets. And by that time it’ll be too late. Because they’ll be illuminated by the campfire. We’ll be able to see them and they won’t be able to see us. We can pick them off easily.

  “If they wait until daybreak to attack, the same thing will happen. We’ll work our way behind them. To the east of them. They’ll attack the camp and will be lit up by the morning sun. But they won’t be able to see us to shoot back because when they look to the east the rising sun will be in their eyes.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Red. Because I usually don’t trust anybody. But what about the off-chance they’re friendly? That they mean us no harm?”

  “Then they won’t rush into our camp with guns blazing. They’ll ride in slowly and announce themselves. And we’ll still be between them and the rising sun. We can ask them what they want and why they’re here with the sun at our backs. If we’re convinced they’re harmless we can change position. If not, we’ll have the drop on them. We can disarm them and leave them behind. Tell them we’ll leave their horses grazing ten miles away. Let them follow our tracks to find their horses. By the time they get mounted up again we’ll have a healthy lead on them.”

  “Gee whiz, Red. You seem to have thought of everything.”

  She didn’t answer him. She suddenly grew emotional. Tears formed in her eyes, although Jacob couldn’t see them in the dark.

  And she darned sure wasn’t going to tell him.

  “What?” he said, sensing he’d said something wrong.

  “Nothing. My dad used to say that all the time. ‘Gee whiz.’ In all the years I knew him he never said a single curse word. It was always ‘gee whiz’ or ‘dad-gummit.’ Sometimes when he was really upset he said ‘gosh durnit.’ He was the classiest guy I ever knew. I miss him a lot.”

  That was it. That was about as vulnerable a side of her as she’d ever reveal to any man.

  “Now then. Are they still in the same spot?”

  “Yep. About three hundred yards due east of us and at a dead stop. They’ve definitely got goggles.”

  “Okay. Step down and hobble both horses. Then keep watch while I use the horses for cover and build a small campfire behind them. Unstrap your handgun and make sure there’s a round in the chamber. If they come in all the shootin’ will be close order. But pull your rifle out of the sheathe so we can take it when we work our way around them.”

  “How come you call it a sheathe instead of a scabbard?”

  “It’s kind of an inside joke between me and my dad. One time when I was very little my mother bought him one for Christmas. Mama ordered it from a catalog not knowing it was made in China. It came in a package that said ‘rifle sheathe.’ Apparently they didn’t know what a scabbard was in China. Anyway, I asked Dad what it was called not long before my mom died. He and Mama looked at each other and laughed and said it was a sheathe. And we called it that ever since.”

  “You talk about your father a lot. You must have really loved him.”

  “Yes. I still do.”

  Jacob did what he was told and hobbled the horses, all the while keeping a close eye on their company.

  “If they start coming this way grab your rifle and take off into the darkness,” Red told him. “Lay flat on the ground so you’ll make a smaller target and provide me cover just like you did back at the ranch.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  But the watchers held their ground.

  Red made a small campfire using tinder from a crushed tumbleweed. Jacob could see just well enough through the goggles to gather a few pieces of busted mesquite wood from a stand of bushes nearby. In ten minutes the small fire was easily seen from the watch
er’s vantage point, and it appeared as though Red and Jacob were bedding down for the night.

  “There’s enough low scrub brush to cover our movements,” Red said. “We’ll make a great show of unrolling our bedrolls and laying down. Once we’re at ground level they’ll lose sight of us. Then we can crawl away from the camp.”

  “I sure hope this works.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

  It appeared to, although it wasn’t easy. The pair literally crawled through the dirt while holding their rifles in front of them, careful not to get any of the dirt in them.

  Once fifty yards or so away from the tiny camp it became a bit easier.

  The country they were in was littered with range brush. Squat and rounded shrubs that would one day dry out from late summer droughts and break free from the ground, becoming tumbleweeds.

  Although they were sparse, the small shrubs collectively provided a solid cover over the three hundred yards which separated Red and Jacob from their watchers.

  Once away from their camp, the pair were able to get up from the dirt and move a little faster, crouching low until they’d worked their way around their watchers and behind them.

  Now they were no longer the prey. Now they had the upper hand.

  Chapter 50

  As Red had suspected, the men were waiting until daybreak to make their move. As they watched the men from their new position they whispered to one another.

  “We may have another thing going in our favor,” Jacob suggested.

  “Really? What?”

  “You can’t track somebody at night. Not even with night vision goggles. Even with the goggles you can’t make out horse tracks in the dirt. And I don’t think they just stumbled upon us in the night. I mean, why in the world would four men be out traveling in the darkness? Ranch hands don’t mend fences or move cattle at night.”

  “Okay. Keep going.”

  “I think they’re day travelers who have been following our tracks during the day. They probably saw us bedded down from a distance, and used that opportunity to skirt us and get ahead of us. So that they could lay in wait for us.”

  “Okay. I agree with everything you’ve said so far. But how does that give us an advantage?”

  “If they’re day travelers they’re not used to being up all night. Which means they had to be up all night to get to their position and wait us out. Which means that by daybreak they’ll have been up for a full twenty four hours. They’ll be tired and won’t be on their game.”

  “Interesting observation. That may come in handy.”

  From their new vantage point, they could see that two of the men had dismounted and squatted low onto the Texas prairie. It took them a minute to figure out why. Then they noticed the glow from the end of a cigarette coming from one of the squat silhouettes.

  They were smoking, and knew that the glow from a cigarette might be visible to their quarry some three hundred yards west of them. But they knew that by squatting low against the prairie floor the brush would hide the glow and keep them from giving themselves away.

  Sure enough, a few seconds later the very distinct odor of smoke from a Marlboro drifted over.

  Red had never smoked. She didn’t have anything against it, necessarily. It was just that she never had the desire to pick up the habit. She didn’t drink much either.

  She’d wondered in the past whether she didn’t drink or smoke because neither of her parents did. She once wondered aloud to her best friend Lilly if children tend to carry on the bad habits of their parents. Or choose not to when their parents had no such habits.

  Lilly had openly laughed at her.

  “Maybe in your case, Red. But neither of my parents drank either, and I’ve never met a drink I didn’t like.”

  It was true that Lilly’s folks never touched alcohol, except to toast someone at a party. And it was also true that Lilly drank like a fish. Maybe parental influence had nothing to do with their children’s habits. Maybe people were just different, and that was that.

  Jacob, on the other hand, had taken up smoking a year before, shortly after the blackout.

  He’d been rifling through an abandoned delivery truck, looking for food or water, and had come up empty handed. Most of the truck’s boxes contained women’s shoes or children’s clothing. Neither was much good to Jacob.

  But there at the very front of the truck, in the corner, was a brown cardboard box with the words “Kool Menthol” on it.

  He’d never smoked before. Never even had the desire. Never got curious enough to want to see what they tasted like.

  But he’d just spent the better part of an hour rifling through that damn truck, and didn’t want to leave empty handed.

  He’d lugged that cardboard box back to the abandoned house he was staying in at the time and lit one up.

  He coughed a couple of times as the smoke invaded his lungs for the first time, but quickly adapted to the sensation. And he decided he liked the way the cigarette tasted.

  Now, on this night, as he and Red waited for daybreak, he dared not light up himself. But smelling the smoke from the Marlboro made his mouth water.

  “How much time do you figure until sunrise?” he asked his partner.

  Red looked at the night sky.

  “An hour. Maybe two. If you want to doze off for a bit, I’ll keep watch.”

  “Okay,” he whispered back. “Roust me if they start to move.”

  He wasn’t sleepy. Not really. But if he could close his eyes and nap for a bit, it would take his mind off of how badly he wanted a cigarette.

  He was out before he knew it.

  Chapter 51

  Jacob thought he was dreaming. He’d fantasized often in the days since he and Red met about being intimate with her.

  He could never tell her that, because she’d likely kick his ass. But he’d dreamed several times that they were more than just friends and traveling companions. That they’d become lovers.

  So when he felt Red’s warm breath against his left ear… heard her whispering softly to him… he assumed it was another dream. He smiled in his sleep.

  Then the whispering became more persistent. More demanding.

  “Jacob, wake up. But whatever you do, don’t move a muscle.”

  Huh? This wasn’t his typical dream about Red. And it was infinitely more realistic.

  He opened one eye and saw Red’s face just inches from his.

  “Do… not… move,” she admonished him.

  The sun was getting ready to break in the eastern sky.

  It was light enough now for Red to see clearly without the night vision goggles, and she’d taken them off and put them aside.

  “Red… what’s the matter?”

  “Don’t move until I tell you to. There’s a four foot rattlesnake who cozied up to you while you slept and used you as a heating pad. He’s curled up and sleeping against your back.”

  Jacob’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t panic. Partly because he was unsure what to do. But also partly because he was hoping this was still a dream. Red’s face was mere inches from his, and he rather liked it there.

  “What do I do?”

  “Just lay perfectly still for a few more minutes. Once the sun breaks on the horizon I can stand up without being seen by our friends over there. Then we’ll decide what to do about it.”

  “Hey, Red?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I die today you can have all my stuff.”

  “What stuff?” she whispered back. “All you have in the world is stuffed into two saddlebags and a backpack.”

  He paused before trying again.

  “Hey, Red?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know, I’ve never been kissed by a girl.”

  She was a bit surprised but also puzzled. Puzzled as to why he’d choose this of all times to share that particular piece of information.

  “Okay. So?”

  “So if the snake bites me and I die today, it would be a
terrible shame if I died without ever being kissed.”

  “Keep that up and I may kill you myself before the snake gets a chance.”

  “Hey, I was just saying, that’s all. Are you sure it’s a rattlesnake?”

  “It’s definitely a rattler. Big sucker too. You’d best stay perfectly still for a few more minutes.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” he said in a hushed tone. “But why would a snake decide he wanted to use me as a cuddle buddy?”

  “Because they’re cold-blooded creatures. They seek warmth wherever they can find it. We’ve been night traveling and sleeping during the day. That’s why they haven’t bothered us before. When we sleep during the day, the sun warms the earth beneath them so they don’t have to seek warmth. At night, when they go hunting, if they come across something warm, they’re likely to just curl up against it.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “Like I said, we wait until the sun comes up. The snake may feel the warmth of the sun and slither off on his own.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “If it doesn’t, I can safely stand up because the rising sun will be at my back. I can lean over you and pin the snake’s head with the butt of my rifle while you scamper away.”

  “And that’ll work?”

  “In theory.”

  “In theory? All you have to offer me is a frickin’ theory?”

  “Hey, this is all new to me too. I don’t get called on every day to rescue a friend from a sleeping rattlesnake.”

  “What happens if I get bit?”

  “Try not to scream. I’ve got a snakebite kit, but it’s in the bottom of my backpack. Which is hooked to the horn on my saddle. Which is on my horse. Which is over yonder on the other side of those cowboys. Who appear to be getting antsy, by the way. Two of them got on their horses like they were ready to ride off, then dismounted again.”

  “Have they spotted us?”

  “No. They’re looking in the other direction. They think we’re bunked out where the horses are. They might be waiting for us to mount up so we make better targets.”