The Amtrak Wars: Blood River

Home > Other > The Amtrak Wars: Blood River > Page 39
The Amtrak Wars: Blood River Page 39

by Patrick Tilley

Clearwater rolled slowly onto her back and tried to raise her left arm towards the Skyhawk as it skimmed over their heads. But the only thing that issued from her lips was blood. Her arm fell sideways, the fingers stretched out towards Steve.

  Steve dragged himself upright with the aid of a nearby rock and staggered over to where she lay with her feet pointing up the gentle slope. Malone joined him. Blood was seeping through the tunic and trousers of her faded blue cotton slave outfit. The undyed sections of her skin had turned greyish-white. She wasn’t dead but she soon would be, unless …

  Yes, little sister, I hear you. I understand …

  Chapter Fifteen

  Malone concluded a preliminary survey of Clearwater’s wounds with a pessimistic grunt. ‘Pity Medicine-Hat isn’t still with us. Difficult to know where to start.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Steve choked back the tears. He stroked Clearwater’s face and tried to connect with her half-open eyes but there was no reaction. She was unconscious. Probably in deep shock. He grasped her hand and squeezed hard, trying to will his life into her body. His mind pleaded with her to live. Begged her to forgive him. If he and Cadillac had not become involved in that senseless argument which had been triggered by the Mute’s refusal to even think about freeing Roz from that wagon-train, they might have seen the Skyhawk earlier. Then none of this would have happened.

  But all was not lost. Not now that Roz was here …

  Steve gripped Malone’s arm. ‘This is out of my league. Can you do anything? Can you stop the bleeding?’

  ‘I can try. We still have a few odds and ends. But it’ll only be a delaying action. If you’ve gotten hooked on beaver I advise you to start looking for another piece.’

  Steve didn’t rise to the jibe. Falling out with Cadillac was enough for one day. ‘We’ve got to try and keep her alive.’

  ‘On account of that amazing stunt she pulled on you two?’

  ‘For all kinds of reasons. Do what you can …’

  ‘Okay. But I’ve also got another little piece of business to take care of.’ Malone turned and bellowed at two of his sidekicks. ‘Andy! Jake! Take some of the guys and bring those two fuckers Gordon and Walsh down off that point!’

  It didn’t sound as if Malone was planning to hand out medals.

  As Andy and Jake led a handful of armed men toward the lookout post, Steve hobbled over to where Cadillac still lay sprawled on the ground. He was out cold too. Griff, one of Malone’s breakers knelt over him. He had pulled open Cadillac’s tunic and was looking for the source of the blood.

  Steve hunkered down beside him. ‘Bad?’

  ‘Nahhh, just flesh wounds. He’ll live.’ Griff pointed to where single needlepoint rounds had sliced across the outside curve of Cadillac’s left thigh and the left-hand side of his belly, then closed his tunic and rolled him over to show Steve where two more rounds had torn jagged furrows in the right-hand side of his ribcage before burying themselves in the ground beneath.

  A lump raised on the back of Cadillac’s head by a nearby rock explained why he was out cold, and Steve discovered a fifth grazing wound in the back of Cadillac’s right calf. The Mute had been incredibly lucky to have been struck glancing blows from the finned rounds. The .125 copper-jacketed steel-tipped darts were designed to keyhole on impact, causing explosive wounding. The damage sustained by Clearwater’s body didn’t bear thinking about.

  ‘Got any sulfanilamide?’ It was an antiseptic powder used for preventing the infection of open wounds.

  ‘Yeah. But I ain’t wasting it on any friggin’ lump-heads.’

  Steve seized Griff by the front of his tunic. ‘Do it, friend. We need this guy in good shape. He’s our ticket to a trouble-free future.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Griff didn’t look impressed.

  Steve relaxed his grip. ‘You want the Mutes off your back, don’t you?’

  ‘It’d make life a lot simpler.’

  ‘This is the guy who can fix it. Look after him.’ Steve patted Griff’s soldier and stood up. The party dispatched by Malone was on its way back, pushing Gordon and Walsh ahead of them. Both men had given up trying to protect themselves from the rifle butts that were being jabbed into them from all sides. They obviously knew what was in store for them and it wasn’t long in coming.

  The party halted in front of Malone. Walsh’s face was scuffed and bruised, one eye was rapidly closing. Gordon’s right trouser leg was soaked in blood from a wound in his thigh.

  ‘He tried to make a run for it,’ explained Jake.

  Malone pulled the three-barrelled air-pistol from his shoulder holster and moved closer to the luckless breakers. ‘Know what this is about?’

  No reply.

  ‘Two dead and three wounded on account of you not seein’ that Skyhawk!’ He gestured towards Cadillac. ‘Not these lump-heads. Your buddies – that you scumbags were supposed to be lookin’ out for!’ He tapped his chest. ‘And I was only a whisker away from gettin’ my own ass blown off! What the fuckin’ hell were you doin’ – watchin’ the fight?’

  Stu Walsh straightened up defiantly and croaked. ‘Wasn’t everybody?’

  Malone placed his pistol against Walsh’s throat and blew a hole right through his neck. He moved on to Gordon. ‘Got somethin’ you wanna get off your chest?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m sorry I ain’t gonna be around when you get yours.’ The breaker spat a gobbet of blood and spittle in Malone’s face.

  Malone wiped it off with the back of his hand then holstered his pistol and drew his combat knife.

  Everybody held their breath.

  ‘So,’ he said quietly. ‘You wanna try and take me?’ He grabbed Gordon’s right hand and placed the butt of the knife in his palm. ‘Here’s your big chance.’ Malone took a couple of paces backwards. ‘Okay! Let him go!’ He beckoned the breaker with both hands. ‘Come on, Gordy. You got the edge, let’s see you use it!’

  Gritting his teeth against the pain in his wounded thigh, Gordon tightened his grip on the knife and made a desperate lunge towards his tormentor. Malone was solidly-built but he was fast. Throwing his weight onto his left heel he made a half-turn, leant away from Gordon and delivered a high pile-driving kick.

  KUH-CHERAKK! Steve, no stranger to violence, winced as the heel of Malone’s right boot struck Gordon under the jaw, snapping his head back and breaking his neck at the same time.

  ‘Strip off their gear and clothes and dump ’em …’ Malone retrieved his combat knife without bothering to check if Gordon was dead then turned to Steve. ‘This way, friend …’

  The renegade had enlisted the help of two other breakers to help staunch Clearwater’s wounds. Being old hands, they hadn’t stopped to watch Walsh and Gordon have their cards cancelled. Still unconscious, Clearwater lay on a folded straw poncho. The blood-stained tunic, loose trousers and v-shaped cotton loincloth had been removed but she was not naked; close to half of her blood-smeared body was covered with field dressings.

  ‘How’re we doing?’

  One of them – a guy called O’Keefe – wiped his hands on her torn tunic. ‘We’ve blocked the holes but she’s still bleeding internally. Only one thing can save this beaver – major surgery.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Steve rolled up her clothes to pillow her head and covered her from chin to toe with his sleeping furs. Gazing for a moment into her unseeing eyes, he brushed a hand across her forehead then rose and took Malone aside. ‘I need to talk.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  Steve hesitated. After what he had just seen he had to choose his words carefully. If he didn’t get it right first time, he could end up dead before he’d had time to explain. ‘That was a Mark Two Skyhawk. See the red wingtips? Means it came from Red River.’

  Malone eyed him suspiciously. ‘How come you know so much about Skyhawks?’

  ‘I used to be a wingman – remember? Class-mate of mine let me look over one at the Pueblo way-station. Before I got into trouble. We were lucky. That guy must have been on the end of his drum. But h
e’ll be back – and so will his friends.’

  ‘In that case we’d better get going.’

  ‘Not me. I’m staying.’

  ‘With that beaver? What’n the hell for? She’s finished, amigo. Terminada.

  ‘You’re wrong. She’s going to live.’ Steve led Malone out of earshot. ‘I’m gonna get her on board that wagon-train.’

  Malone did a double-take. ‘Come again?’

  The guy was good, there was no doubt about that. But then he’d had years of practice …

  ‘It’s her only chance,’ said Steve. ‘She’s less than fifty miles from where we’re standing, and she’s carrying a combat surgical team and a fully-equipped operating theatre.’

  Malone greeted this with a dry laugh. ‘What good’s that gonna do her? Do you seriously think those guys are gonna waste their time trying to save a lump-head – even one built the way she is?’

  ‘They’ll save this one. She’s special.’

  ‘I’ll buy that. But how’re you –?’

  Steve lowered his voice. ‘They’re already on their way.’

  Malone’s face hardened as he studied Steve through half-closed eyes. ‘Jack me … I had you figured right the first time. You are a fuggin’ Fed!’

  Steve caught Malone’s hand as it went across his chest towards his pistol. ‘That makes two of us, compadre. But being a wet-back, it took me a lot longer to get your number.’

  ‘Yeah …’ Malone dropped his gun arm.

  Steve slid his forefinger behind his left ear and pressed the tiny transceiver hidden under the skin at the edge of his skull. A gentle on-off pressure was enough to transmit HG-FR in Morse code.

  Malone scratched his neck and sent back his own four-letter call-sign: HH-SA. Steve’s unit – the size of a quartz watch battery – translated the series of dots and dashes into a high-pitched humming noise and fed it directly to his inner ear.

  The renegade then introduced himself by disclosing his full code-name. ‘High Sierra.’

  ‘Hang-Fire …’

  ‘Mother said you might be in touch.’

  ‘How much do you know?’

  ‘As much as you wanna tell me.’

  Watch yourself, Stevie. This is one cagey sonofabitch you got here …

  Malone jerked a thumb towards Cadillac. The Mute was just starting to come round. ‘Is he on your shopping list too?’

  ‘Yeah. But I need to keep him back to help me collect the rest of the consignment. Etiende?’

  ‘Perfectamente. Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Yeah, there is. Got any morphine?’

  ‘I already gave her a jab.’

  ‘I meant for him.’

  Malone looked surprised. ‘But they’re just scratches! You’ve got to take an arm and a leg off before a Mute starts hollerin’ and most of them don’t utter so much as a squeak even then. Way you’re cosied up with these two I’d’ve thought you’d know that.’

  ‘That’s not why I asked. It’ll make things easier all round if he’s damped down for a few hours while you ship him out of here.’

  ‘In that case, since he can swallow, we’ll slip him some Cloud Nines.’ Summoning Griff, Malone fished out a bubble-card of pills from the first aid bag and told him to give Cadillac a double dose.

  Cloud Nine, the standard pain-killing sedative dispensed in pill form by the Federation had helped to make Poppa Jack’s last years of life easier to bear.

  Steve gazed across at Clearwater’s inert body. Had she known what was going to happen? Was this what she meant when she had whispered ‘We have so little time’ …?

  ‘You were saying …’

  Steve snapped out of his reverie. ‘Huhh?’

  ‘The lump. Ship him out – to where?’

  ‘Ohh, yehh, I, uhh – want you to run him home for me. His clan hangs out up around navref Caspar, Wyoming. If you follow the North Platte river –’

  ‘I know the way. How do we find ’em when we get there?’

  ‘Don’t worry. They’ll find you. The M’Calls control that area. It was their warriors that lifted Kelso, Jodi, and the other guys who went missing during last year’s round-up.’

  Malone nodded. ‘I’m beginning to get the picture …’

  ‘Cadillac’s a wordsmith.’

  ‘No kidding?’ Malone looked genuinely interested. ‘I thought they were all old guys.’

  ‘Not when they’re born,’ laughed Steve. ‘He’s next in line for the job. That makes him important. So important you’ll be able to cut your own deal. All you’ve got to do is deliver our friend in good condition and you could earn yourself a stack of credits. Go in under the white smoke and talk to Mr Snow. He’s the main man – and this guy’s teacher. If you tell him I sent you, I guarantee he’ll do business. Handle it right and you need never play hunt the redskin again.’

  ‘Would certainly make life a lot easier …’

  ‘Then go for it.’

  ‘Okay.’ Malone grimaced thoughtfully. ‘This Mr Snow. Is he “the rest of the consignment”?’

  ‘This is my operation, amigo. When you need to know more, I’ll tell you.’

  ‘Just asking …’

  ‘The first priority is to deliver Cadillac to the M’Calls. If you can then use that contact to get cosy with ’em, that’ll be even better. That way they won’t suspect anything when I call you in to help make the hit.’

  The prospect of a well-engineered betrayal twisted Malone’s mouth into a thin smile. ‘Sounds good. What about the horses?’

  ‘If your boys are game, take ’em. All I need is mine and a couple of spares.’ It was Steve’s turn to smile. ‘If you find you can’t ride ’em, you can always try eatin’ ’em. And I suggest you tie Big-Mouth to the saddle and rope his feet together under the horse’s belly.’

  ‘Does that mean he’s gonna give us trouble?’

  ‘Not once you’ve got him away from here.’

  ‘What do we tell him when he wakes up?’

  ‘Good question.’ Steve thought it over. ‘Tell him that, thanks to his desire to kill me, we were jumped by a Skyhawk and the last time you saw me, Clearwater was dying in my arms. That’ll give him something to think about. Might even shut his mouth too. You can also say I’m aiming to catch up with you as soon as possible.’

  ‘But you don’t want me to tell him you’re puttin’ the beaver on the wagon-train.’

  Steve concealed his growing irritation at Malone’s repeated use of this pejorative word to describe Clearwater. ‘Not yet. If she doesn’t survive …’

  ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’

  ‘I’ll break the news to him as and when. And listen, bear with him, huh? I know from experience how you feel about people giving you lip but, uhh – don’t damage the merchandise. You may need his help to talk your way across the turf of any Mute clans between here and navref Caspar.’

  Malone nodded. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ He broke away to confer with his two chief lieutenants. While they went off with the other breakers to round up the horses, Steve and Malone made a rough stretcher and carried the unconscious Clearwater back to the shallow cave under the rock ledge where, less than eighteen hours before, she had been in his arms, gloriously and vibrantly alive …

  Steve tried to hide his feelings as they stepped outside.

  ‘So –’ Malone fisted his left palm, ‘– you gonna wait here until…?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ve been to the end of the world and back for this one. I wanna stay and see it through.’

  ‘Sounds reasonable …’

  ‘You got a radio?’ asked Steve.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Don’t you think you ought to get Mother to call the ’hawks off? That guy who hit us today obviously didn’t know who he was aiming at.’

  Malone shrugged. ‘We have to take our chances like everybody else. AMEXICO keeps us supplied by stashing small packs of goodies around the landscape but some of us also come close to getting our asses blown off. If we didn’t, so
me of the real breakers who are running with us might get suspicious.’

  ‘And when they do?’

  ‘That’s my problem. How’d you get onto me?’

  ‘Process of deduction,’ said Steve. ‘When I ran into you guys last year you came down on me pretty fast. For a breaker you seemed to know a great deal about undercover Feds. Too much, in fact.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll have to watch that.’

  ‘But it wasn’t until Kelso came out of the woodwork that I finally put it together. He and Jodi wouldn’t have dared come back to rescue me if you hadn’t decided it was time to cut me loose. Once I knew he was Rat-Catcher, I started to backtrack over what had happened and ended up more or less convinced that you must be working for Mother too.

  ‘Watching you and O’Keefe and that other guy at work on Clearwater clinched it for me. The rest of the boys had made it pretty clear how they felt about Mutes. If they found one dying of thirst they wouldn’t even piss on him! I had to twist Griffs arm to get a wound dressing for Cadillac. You wouldn’t have spent time on her unless she was important. And you knew she was.’

  Malone wasn’t someone who smiled a lot but he managed a steely grin. ‘Just for the record, it wasn’t my idea to post you. We all get taken right to the edge – either that way, or something just as unpleasant. It’s part of the graduation ceremony. Nothing personal – you understand?’

  ‘Sure. Was it you who arranged for Jodi to leave me the knife?’

  ‘Not directly. Through Kelso. But getting themselves captured by the Mutes wasn’t part of the plan. Real shame about Kelso. Dave could be a real pain in the ass but –’

  ‘You’re telling me.’

  ‘But he could be good company too. Medicine Hat … Jodi. Not much to look at but –’

  ‘She was one tough lady.’

  ‘More’n that, sonny.’ Malone’s eyes glinted knowingly. ‘When she got that sweet little jolly-box of hers fired up she could put a real shine on your pin. Know what I mean?’

  Steve hid his surprise. ‘Yeah,’ he said, thinking how strange it was that in all the time they’d been together he had never given a moment’s consideration to that side of Jodi’s nature. And he wondered why disclosure of it made him feel uncomfortable.

 

‹ Prev