Bodie 6

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by Neil Hunter


  Bodie loosed off a couple of shots and saw one man go down, clutching his hands over his throat.

  “Get the girl down,” Lon said. He picked up his rifle and began to pick off the men down below.

  Bodie swung Victoria Castillo over the wall, lowered her as far as he could and then let her drop. She landed limply, rolling down the dusty bank. Bodie followed her, landing lightly. Jamming his Colt in its holster he swung the girl up in his arms and started down the bank, yelling for Lon to follow him. The Kiowa was only a few yards behind when Bodie reached the horses.

  Bodie climbed into the saddle and Lon lifted Victoria Castillo up to him. They rode along the dry creek bed for a way, then cut off across country. They picked up the trail they’d made on the way in and made for the distant hills. The place known as Pueblo Diablo fell away behind them.

  Late afternoon found them deep in the rocky hills. Silence lay around them. There was nothing to see or hear. No gunfire. No pursuit from Pueblo Diablo. Bodie didn’t bother to wonder why; he concentrated on getting them away from the town. It was a reasonably easy thing to do. There was enough rock about to enable them to pass without leaving much in the way of tracks behind.

  Victoria Castillo had recovered from Lon’s punch on the jaw. She sat upright on Bodie’s horse, forced to hold onto him because her wrists had been tied. She said nothing and appeared to be ignoring both Bodie and Lon. After watching her for a while Bodie realized that she was closely studying their line of travel. He grinned to himself. She was intelligent as well as beautiful. A dangerous combination. He figured she would bear watching.

  When they took time to rest the horses Bodie mentioned what he’d seen the girl doing.

  “I don’t want to give her the chance to figure out the route to the cabin,” he said.

  Lon took off his handkerchief. “Use this,” he said.

  “It ain’t much, Señorita, but it’s all we got!” Bodie said as he took off the blindfold.

  Victoria Castillo scowled at him as she took a distasteful look around the crude cabin, her face mirroring her thoughts.

  “Where are we?” she demanded in perfect English. Her tone was that of someone well used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

  “You’ll be told only what you need to know,” Bodie said. “And where you are ain’t one of them. So just sit tight and do as you’re told!”

  Victoria Castillo stared at him in shocked silence. She watched him as he removed the rope from her wrists. The moment the rope slipped away she swung her right arm, her slim hand delivering a hard slap across his face. There was force behind the blow and it rocked Bodie’s head. He stared at the girl for a moment, his anger rising as he caught the gleam of triumph in her dark eyes. He allowed her to enjoy it for a moment longer, and then raised his own hand and returned the slap. Victoria Castillo stepped back, a hand clapped to her burning cheek, a shine of tears now showing in her eyes. She looked wildly about her, as if she were seeking some way out, some escape that she knew was not possible. She moved away from Bodie, her shoulders sagging. Reaching the table she sat down and leaned her head in her hands.

  Bodie glanced at Lon. “What the hell you grinning at?” he growled.

  “Me?” Lon asked. “Not a thing. Bodie. Not a thing.”

  Bodie lit a fire and prepared a meal. As soon as it was ready he placed it on the table and Lon spooned it into three plates, placing one in front of Victoria Castillo. She lifted her head and stared at the food. Finally she pushed the plate away from her.

  “You should eat,” Lon told her, like a father talking to a sulking child. “Even if you hate us you should still eat. Didn’t your father teach you the value of food?”

  Victoria’s eyes settled on the Kiowa’s face. She was angry again. “How dare you speak of my father! Do you not know of his power? His influence? You will both die for what you have done today!”

  “Little late for threats,” Lon said. “Now eat the food, else my friend is going to be real upset.”

  “I would rather starve than eat food he has touched,” Victoria snapped. “He is a filthy gringo pig!”

  “Lady, you just please your damn self about the food,” Bodie snapped. “You want to starve — go ahead!” His patience was wearing thin and he was fast realizing that Victoria Castillo might turn out to be one hell of a pain in the neck!

  “Will you please tell me something,” Victoria asked suddenly. Her voice had lost its edge and her manner had softened considerably.

  “Ask it,” Lon suggested.

  She looked from the Kiowa to Bodie. “Why have you taken me from my father?”

  “We badly need something we can use to bargain with,” Bodie told her.

  “For what? Money? Cattle? Those things you could have stolen.”

  “People,” answered Lon.

  Victoria’s face creased in misunderstanding. “People?”

  “The Indians that Preacher Kane brought over the border to work your father’s mine — we want them free!”

  “But why? They are no better than the lowest peon. Their lives are of no consequence. Like the peasants they are born to be used. They mean nothing!”

  For once Lon Walker had no smile, no humor in his voice. His brown face hardened visibly and for a moment Bodie had the feeling he might attack the girl. But Lon controlled his emotions.

  “Señorita, those people are mine. From my tribe. They may be only peasants to you. But do not speak too lightly about them. I would not exchange one of them for a thousand of your Grandees. Because your father desires to involve himself in politics many of my tribe have been slaughtered. Murdered by the animals who take your father’s money!”

  Victoria’s face flushed hotly. Her breasts swelled with agitation as she rounded on Lon. “You lie!” she snapped. “My father would not do such a thing, and you cannot justify what you have done by accusing my father of such things!”

  “It’s no lie,” Bodie said.

  Victoria slumped back in her seat. “Why should I believe you? It could all be lies. An attempt to turn me against my father!”

  Bodie moved to the stove and refilled his coffee mug. “The way you feel about your father doesn’t mean a damn thing to me, lady. I want one thing. Those poor bastards being worked to death in that mine.” He looked across the room at her. “You think about them, Señorita Castillo, and then remember that fancy house you live in. If you’ve got a God, then pray to him that you get to go back there!”

  It was dark by the time they finished their meal. Lon gave Victoria a blanket and she went over to the low cot that stood against one wall. She lay down and turned her back to them.

  Lon sat down and began to clean his rifle.

  “Expecting to use that thing?” Bodie asked.

  Lon shrugged. “Could be. In the morning I’ll take a ride down to Castillo’s place. Let him know we’ve got his daughter — and then offer him our terms.”

  “You sure you want to do that?” Bodie asked.

  Lon smiled. “It has to be done, Bodie, like it or not.”

  It was silent for a while.

  Then Bodie said: “Don’t trust him, Lon. Not even for a second!”

  Chapter Nine

  Don Armando Castillo waved aside the servant filling his coffee cup as he saw the black-clad figure enter the dining room.

  “Did he tell you anything, Rivera?”

  “Nothing more, Patron. It was as I had expected. Elfego Rojhas has carried much hatred in his heart for a long time. It is strong enough to keep him from speaking.”

  There was a harsh chuckle from the other end of the table. It came from a lanky, unshaven figure hunched over a half-eaten plate of food. Bright, wild eyes stared at Rivera. Thin, bloodless lips curled back from long, stained teeth.

  “That’s what you get for sending a boy to do a man’s job!”

  Rivera’s eyes flashed hotly. “You could have done better, Kane?”

  “Something we might never find out now,” Preacher Kane
said.

  “Let us not argue amongst ourselves,” Castillo said. “We are faced with a difficult situation but we can resolve it.”

  “I should have killed those two strangers in the village,” Rivera said.

  Kane chuckled. “Yes, you should have — but you didn’t, Rivera, an’ now we are payin’ for your mistake.”

  Rivera ignored the American. “Patron, the men are ready to ride again. We will not rest until we find those two.”

  “Then go,” Castillo said. “My trust in you has not weakened, Rivera. I will remain here. Sooner or later we will receive a visit from one of the men who took Victoria. They have to present their demands. I wish to be here when that happens.”

  “What of the priest?” Rivera said.

  Castillo lifted his cup and drank. “Send some men to the village, and have them bring that interfering holy man. I have a feeling he may know more of this matter. Perhaps he will become a messenger for me instead of for God!”

  Rivera nodded, and with a final scowl in Kane’s direction, he left the room.

  “You should not taunt him so much, Kane,” Castillo said.

  “Ah, don’t fret none,” Kane grinned. “Keeps the feller on his toes if he thinks I’m belittling him. You want me to hang round? Maybe if this son of a bitch does turn up I can offer him the word.” He thumped his hand down on the battered old bible he had laid on the table beside him. “The Lord will counsel my words and through me will show this transgressor the folly of his ways!”

  Castillo frowned at the American. There were times when he failed to understand Kane’s strange personality. The man was a good ally. When it came to a fight there was none better. Just place a different problem before him and Kane would solve it by direct or devious means. He controlled his men with an iron hand and had little regard when it came to taking life. Yet he still carried on his fanatical religious ranting, his quoting from the bible, the ever-changing attitudes that placed him out of step with everyone around him. He was, Castillo thought, a hard man, a killer, and also a man to fear because of his unstable personality.

  When they had finished eating Castillo led the way outside, Kane walking at his side. They crossed to the far side of the great house, to the area where the stables and corrals stood. Castillo walked briskly to the far side of the complex.

  Here he stopped, and stared in silence at the man suspended from the cross rail of the main corral gates. The man’s clothing had been ripped from his body, and hung in bloody tatters. The whole of the body was a mass of bruises and lacerations. Blood had dried in dark streaks on the beaten flesh, dripped onto the dusty ground. The face was a ruined, bloody mask. Every feature hideously distorted. Flies buzzed around the swaying body, crawled over the swollen flesh.

  “Such hate in a man could be channeled to great effect,” Castillo said.

  “Too damn late now,” Preacher Kane intoned.

  The blood-caked head moved. Slowly, so slowly, it raised up. One swollen eye cracked open and Elfego Rojhas stared down at Castillo.

  “Praise the Lord!” Kane said. “The sinner lives!”

  “Rojhas!” Castillo said harshly. “Even now you could live! Tell me what I want to know!”

  “May you rot in hell!” Rojhas croaked. He groaned. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “If I have caused you grief then I will gladly die!”

  “Do not be a fool, Rojhas. Dying for nothing is foolish. Your friends will not carry out their plan. I will hunt them down and they will also die!”

  Rojhas managed a crackling laugh. “To see you made a fool of gives me a good feeling!”

  “Then make the best of it!” Castillo fumed. “A man’s final hour should be enjoyable!”

  Castillo turned and took Kane’s big revolver from his holster. He stepped in front of Rojhas and lifted the gun, easing back the hammer.

  “Do you see what I have got, Rojhas?”

  Rojhas laughed harshly. “Should I care? From the moment your pistoleros killed my comrades and took me prisoner I knew I was a dead man! You cannot hurt me, Castillo, you hyena! I am already dead! So just come a little closer! Just enough so that I can piss on you from the grave!”

  Castillo emptied the gun into him. Six bullets that ripped bloody holes in Rojhas’s twitching body. Blood and bone and pulped flesh burst from the wounds. Rojhas’s sagging mouth spat blood that dribbled down his naked chest. It dripped into the dirt beneath him, turning black as it was soaked up.

  Castillo handed Kane his gun. “Thank you for the loan of your weapon,” he said.

  A strange smile played around Kane’s thin mouth as he • took the gun. He ejected the spent cartridges and reloaded the revolver. He stared at the mutilated corpse as it swayed gently at the end of the rope. His lips moved as if he was tasting some new and pleasant sensation. He moved away abruptly, falling in beside Castillo.

  “This mess ain’t going to sit too well with those big boys you’re expecting to help you on the political wagon.”

  Castillo’s face stiffened as if Kane’s remark had caused him physical discomfort. “If I handle it well it will benefit me. But if I show weakness it will do me great harm. It is a fact, Kane, that a man who would hold office in the government must be above intimidation. There must be no sign of weakness. None at all! At any cost!”

  “Then smite thy enemies and destroy them — and close thy ears to the wailing and the weeping!”

  A shout reached them from the main gate of the hacienda. Castillo and Kane turned and saw a lone rider being admitted. The rider brought his horse across to where Castillo stood.

  “From the look on your face I guess you know why I’m here,” Lon Walker said. He climbed down off his horse, his rifle cradled in his big hands.

  “You have my daughter?” Castillo asked.

  Lon nodded. He glanced at Preacher Kane. The man had a half-smile on his gaunt face.

  “Share the joke, feller,” Lon said.

  “I know why you’re here,” he said. Kane’s eyes glittered. “You’re a damn Kiowa. One of them stinkin’ Indians!”

  “Wait!” Castillo said. “Is this true? Is this why you have taken my daughter? To bargain for the release of those savages?”

  “For the people of my tribe, mister!” Lon yelled. “You’ve figured it out! Now tell me what you aim to do about it!”

  Castillo smiled. “If you think I am about to release those Indians then you have wasted your time coming here. I will not make bargains with trash like you.”

  Lon shrugged. “You know what you stand to lose?”

  “Oh, yes. My daughter. Then it will have to be. There will be no exchange.”

  “You bastard!” Lon yelled, ‘ his reckless temper giving way. He stepped forward and punched Castillo across the mouth, sending the Mexican to the ground. It was a bad mistake. Before Lon could recover Preacher Kane stepped up behind him, his big revolver in his hand. He lashed out with it, the barrel clouting Lon across the back of the skull. The Kiowa staggered, and began to turn towards Kane. The revolver slashed down again. It cracked down across the side of Lon’s head this time — and again. Lon slumped to his knees, blood pouring down the side of his face. He felt a further blow and pitched face down in the dust.

  Preacher Kane stood over him, a cold look in his eyes. He began to chuckle softly. “Oh, Lord, see how the mighty are fallen! I thank Thee for Thy deliverance! A sinner offered to my hands whom I will bring along the road of righteousness!”

  Chapter Ten

  By late afternoon Bodie’s concern began to show. He paced the cramped cabin restlessly, repeatedly going to the door to see if Lon had returned. His fear that something had gone wrong grew with every passing minute. Before Lon had ridden out in the gray light of dawn Bodie had expressed his doubts about the way Lon intended to confront Castillo.

  “Bodie, how else we going to show him we mean business? The man has to know what we’re up to. And this is part of the deal.”

  “It’s a hell of a chance
you’re taking, Lon.”

  Lon had sighed. “Yeah, I know!”

  Bodie wondered now if that chance had been too great. He felt trapped and helpless in the tiny cabin and the silent, hidden canyon. He had no idea what was happening beyond the high rock walls, and the lack of knowledge made the situation harder to bear.

  Victoria Castillo did little to ease the situation. She hadn’t spoken more than a few curt words the whole day. And her looks had a quality to them that could have killed. Under different circumstances their being together could have been a pleasant way of passing the time. Once or twice Bodie had stared at her, aware of her beauty. Her unassuming sexuality was in her every move, every expression, and never more than when she caught his stare and returned it with a dark, sullen scowl that prickled the hair on the back of his neck.

  He was outside the cabin, willing Lon to show, when he heard the soft footstep behind him. Bodie glanced over his shoulder and saw Victoria standing by the cabin door. He held her gaze, and noticed that for the first time her hostility seemed to have mellowed a little.

  “I would like to bathe,” she stated; even now her words emerged like an order. “Do you have any objections?”

  “No,” he said. “Long as you stay where I can see you.”

  Victoria’s head came up, the dark eyes angry. “Do you expect me to bathe naked before you?”

  “It’s your choice, lady. Only I don’t intend giving you the chance to even think about slipping off somewhere.” He smiled without humor. “You won’t be the first female I’ve seen without her lace pants on, so don’t fret about unsettling me.”

  Victoria snapped at him in rapid Spanish — words Bodie didn’t understand. He decided it was probably better he didn’t learn what they were. She went back inside the cabin and emerged again quickly with a blanket over her arm.

 

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