by Jake Henry
Shelby noticed the distant look in Perkins’ eyes and he shook his head in disbelief.
‘You are insane,’ he snorted. ‘Do you really think the Apaches will join forces with you? All you’ll succeed in doing is getting all my men killed.’
‘Your men?’ Perkins spat as his face took on a look of contempt. ‘You dare to call them your men? They ceased being your men the day you lost the will to fight.’
‘I still give the orders here, Perkins,’ Shelby reminded him.
‘Not anymore,’ the major growled. ‘You will be put under arrest and tried for treason by a military court.’
Before Shelby could say anything else Perkins had his six-gun out and cocked. Shelby stared at him coldly.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ he snapped.
‘We’ll see.’
Shelby watched from the window of his cell as the dozen blue-clad men rode out of Fort Jackson under the command of Perkins’ lap-dog sergeant. He cursed loudly at his own stupidity. He should never have let it come to this. And now it looked as though his efforts of late to keep his men alive would amount to nothing. Unless, by some miracle, his plan with Savage worked.
‘General?’ a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Shelby frowned, at first thinking he was hearing things.
‘General Shelby?’ this time it was louder.
Turning away from the window he hurried across to the solid wooden door of the cell.
‘Who’s there?’
‘Larry Granville, Sir.’
‘Are you alone Sergeant Granville?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Shelby paused for a moment.
‘I need you to do something for me, Sergeant. Can you do that?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘I want you to find Captain Simeon.’
For the next couple of minutes, Shelby elaborated to Granville what he needed from him.
‘Did you get all of that?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Good man. Now get it done. The lives of your compatriots depend on you.’
~*~
‘How much longer do we have to sit out here in this damned heat, Sir?’ asked a gaunt-faced trooper.
‘Until I say it’s time to head back, Sloan. And not before,’ Simeon answered.
‘Do you think the general’s plan will work?’
‘I hope so, Sloan, we’ve all been away from home too long.’
‘I ain’t got a home,’ Sloan said solemnly.
‘Rider comin’ in!’ cried a trooper atop a rock outcrop.
The small band of men scrambled to scoop up weapons and take firing positions. They hid behind jagged lumps of rock and small tight packed clumps of brush.
‘It’s Sergeant Granville, Captain.’
Simeon let out a relieved sigh and stood out in the open to greet the incoming man.
Granville brought his hard-blowing mount to a stop in front of Simeon and gasped, ‘I’m glad you’re still here, Captain. If you weren’t I don’t know what I would have done.’
‘What is it?’ Simeon asked, seeing the concern on the sergeant’s face.
Granville slid from the saddle and hurriedly filled Simeon in on the events happening at the fort.
‘All right let’s get mounted and get the General out,’ Simeon snapped angrily.
‘Wait, sir,’ Granville called after the retreating captain. ‘The General said for you to hunt down Savage and warn him about what Perkins was up to.’
‘But that means leaving him locked up,’ Simeon pointed out.
‘I don’t think he’s worried about that, Sir. I think he’s more worried about the men and what could happen if this crazy scheme of Perkins’ works out.’
Simeon nodded. ‘OK. The rest of you get your horses and go with Granville.’
~*~
From his position high up on the ridge, hidden from sight and the heat of the sun, a lone figure lay watching the events unfold below him. He watched as they separated then waited until the larger group disappeared from sight. Then he stood up and slowly jogged down the backside of the slope to where his horse was tethered.
He unhitched the reins and launched himself gracefully onto the animal’s back. Then he heeled it hard, forcing the animal to respond instantly. Once out from behind the ridge, Rios turned his horse to follow the lone rider.
~*~
Sergeant Esa Brown lay belly down next to a large saguaro that sat proudly on the small hill. He raised his field glasses and looked about the camp below him. He studied it carefully so he wouldn’t miss anything. They wanted no surprises and none of the Yavapai must be allowed to escape.
For five long minutes, he lay unmoving and watched them, the sun searing his exposed skin. And then he slithered back down the slope to where his men awaited him.
‘It’s time,’ he told them. ‘Remember, no one gets away.’
‘Are there women and children amongst them, Esa?’ asked one of the men.
‘They’re Indians nothin’ more,’ Esa growled in a low voice. ‘Don’t hesitate. Kill them all.’
The riders divided into two groups. When they split, they closed in on the camp from both sides of the hill. By the time the Yavapai knew they were there, it was too late.
The first slug from Esa’s six-gun punched a hole in an old man’s head and left another, much larger one when it blew out the back and scattered his brains across the desert.
Immediately the cries and screams started. Women wailed as they scooped up their children and tried to escape the killing zone. An Apache youth stood defiantly against the charging soldiers with an old, rusted Dragoon pistol. He raised it up and pulled the trigger. A great blue-gray puff of smoke spewed forth from the barrel, hiding the boy’s face.
A blue-clad trooper fired a shot from his sidearm and the boy crumpled, a red stain appearing on the bronzed skin of his chest. The trooper didn’t stop at that. He aimed his horse at the prone form and rode over the top of the corpse, the horse’s hard hoof pulping the head as it smashed through the rest of the shattered skull.
Esa dragged his horse to a stop in the middle of the camp and emptied his pistol at fleeing natives. While he reloaded, a young male emerged from somewhere and loosed an arrow that streaked through the air and buried itself into a trooper's throat. The gravely wounded man opened his mouth in shock and a strong flow of crimson ran unhindered from his maw before he fell from his horse.
Esa cursed and shifted his aim. The young Apache had raised his bow to loose another arrow when he was blown from his feet from a slug off Esa's gun.
A woman launched an attack upon another mounted trooper armed with only a knife. She grabbed at his jacket and attempted to dislodge him from his horse. The trooper turned and raised his six-gun and took a swipe at her. He got her a glancing blow but she ignored it. He took another swipe for the same effect. He raised the six-gun for another blow when she drove her knife up into his armpit.
The trooper’s high-pitched scream rang throughout the camp and he dropped the six-gun into the desert sand.
‘Damned bitch,’ he shouted, spittle flying from his lips.
The woman wrenched the knife free and stabbed the trooper in the thigh, dragging it down and across. Warm blood spurted from the wound and covered her hand. She looked up into his pained face and spat at him.
‘White-eye dog,’ she screamed at him.
Seeing his plight, another blue-clad trooper rode up behind the snarling woman and blew her brains out of the front of her head.
‘Are you OK?’ the soldier shouted over the din.
The wounded soldier smiled wanly. Blood started to trickle from the corner of his mouth as the true effect of the first wound was revealed.
‘She killed me,’ he managed to gurgle before more blood spilled from his mouth and he toppled from the saddle.
Now two of the attackers were dead and things were about to get worse.
A further cry of pain caused Esa to shift his gaze and
he saw yet another trooper with an arrow sticking from his midsection. He looked for the shooter and located him sitting atop a horse at the crest of a ridge not fifty yards away. A young man had drawn the string back on his bow to fire another arrow but he wasn’t alone. There were five others with him, all young men, all armed, and all of them were about to rain death upon the attackers.
‘Look to your front!’ Esa shouted above the din.
The Apaches loosed their arrows and two of Esa’s troopers were hit. An arrow took the first man in his chest and the next buried deeply in the other’s torso. The first man fell from the saddle and lay still in the desert sand. The second hunched over his saddle as the pain of his wound kicked in.
Five men were now out of action.
‘Shoot the bastards on the hill!’ Esa ordered as he snapped off a shot in the Apache’s direction.
A fusillade of gunfire rattled out and Esa saw one of the warriors knocked back with a red bloom on his torso. The others, however, were unmoved and fired another volley at the troopers.
There was a high-pitched, human-like scream as a horse took an arrow in its muscular neck. It staggered about and its rider fought to keep it upright. Every breath that blew out of its nostrils sent a fine mist of blood into the air until it lost the battle and slumped onto its side.
The rider spilled into the sand, pinned by his leg.
‘Esa! Esa, help.’ he screamed as fear of being left there gripped him.
‘Damn it to hell!’ Esa shouted loudly. ‘Somebody pick up Croft. We’re gettin’ outta here.’
But it was too late as a younger Apache woman emerged from the brush and produced a razor-sharp knife and slashed the unsuspecting trooper’s throat. Blood sprayed bright and hot and a shuddering spasm rippled through him as he died.
The trooper who’d been about to help him raised a gun and fired at the young woman. The sand kicked up at her feet and she darted away behind a clump of brush before a second shot could be fired.
Upon the crest, another Apache died with two slugs in him which only served to anger his companions and their renewed war cries rang out clearly above the chaos.
‘Come on, let’s go!’ Esa shouted, heeling his mount savagely.
Behind him, his remaining men followed, including the two wounded men who were held in the saddle by the riders beside them. They were a mile from the Apache camp when a trooper named Smith called out to Esa to slow down.
They eased the horses back to a walk then stopped.
‘We can’t keep goin’ like this Esa,’ Smith warned him. ‘Not with Wilson and Brown in this condition.’
Esa looked at his shrunken band. He’d left four men dead in the Apache camp and now he had two more in bad shape. He moved his horse around so he could look at the wounded.
Wilson had the broken shaft of an arrow sticking from his belly. Esa shook his head. Wilson was as good as dead. He just hadn’t laid down yet. The other man, Brown had an arrow sticking out of his torso. He was in pain but looked to be in better shape than Wilson.
Esa casually reached out and snapped the arrow off as close to Brown’s body as possible. Brown bit back a curse at the rough treatment.
‘We’ll dig that arrow head outta you when we get back,’ he told him.
He looked over at Wilson. The man was hunched over as a fiery pain coursed through his middle. Nothing could be done for him except …
Esa drew his six-gun and shot him in the head. Wilson fell from the saddle and landed with a dull thump on a prickly pear cactus.
‘What the hell did you do that for?’ Smith blurted out, shock on his face at the callous way in which Wilson had been dispatched.
‘He was dyin’,’ Esa told him bluntly.
‘But there was still no reason to kill him like that.’
‘He was gut shot. Did you want him to go out of this world screamin’ in pain, hollerin’ for his mama?’
Smith knew Esa was right and remained silent.
‘I didn’t think so. Now come on. Let’s go.’
Seven
‘What the hell happened out there?’ Perkins fumed. ‘I send you out with a dozen men and you come back with almost half your number gone. Your orders were simply to stir up trouble, not get all your men killed.’
‘They jumped us,’ Esa tried to explain.
‘Sir!’
‘Sir.’
Esa went on to explain what happened at the Yavapai camp while Perkins listened in silence to the report.
‘Is your wounded man going to make it?’
‘Yeah,’ Esa nodded, ‘he’ll be fine.’
Perkins paced to the window and stared out at the parade ground that glowed orange under the sinking sun. It was a usually a magnificent time of the day when the desert was transformed into something magical.
He turned back to Esa and said, ‘OK. With the bodies you left out there, it won’t be long before we start to see the results. And when we do, we’ll make contact with the Yavapai and offer them an alliance.’
That was the part of the plan that worried Esa. Rile up the Apaches to get them on-side and they’ll just as likely slit your throat for being a white man.
‘I hope you’re right, Sir,’ Esa said. ‘If you ain’t, then we’re all dead.’
‘Then we’ll all be beyond caring won’t we?’
There was a knock at the door and a private entered, a worried expression on his face.
‘What is it, Spence?’ Perkins snapped, annoyed at the interruption.
‘I’m sorry, Major,’ he apologized, ‘but Captain Simeon doesn’t seem to be anywhere on the post.’
Perkins frowned. ‘Did you look everywhere?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Perkins looked at Esa. ‘Have you seen him since you’ve been back?’
‘No. The last I heard, he was out lookin’ for the escapees.’
‘Are the others back?’ Perkins asked Spence.
Spence nodded.
‘Then where the hell is Simeon?’
Both men stared blankly at him.
‘Damn it! Find out where he is.’
Perkins watched them leave and returned to his seat. He tried to work out what Simeon might be up to and where he’d gone. Each scenario he came up left him with a nagging feeling that once he found out, he wasn’t going to like it.
~*~
‘I asked you a question, Sloan, now damn well answer it,’ Esa snarled.
There was no love lost between the two men and Sloan looked at him defiantly.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘We lost contact with him. He told us to come on back while he checked out something he’d seen.’
‘You’re lyin’.’
Sloan shrugged. ‘Maybe. But there ain’t no way for you to prove it, is there?.’
The was a drawn out silence as Esa’s icy stare lingered on him. A horse snorted in its stall farther along the stables while another shifted about noisily. The air was filled with the smell of straw and horse shit.
‘I ought to beat the truth outta you here and now you lyin’ son of a bitch,’ Esa growled taking a step toward Sloane.
The dry triple-click of a gun hammer going back made Esa halt. Then he felt the gun barrel pressed hard to the back of his head.
‘If you take one more step Esa I’ll blow your damned brains all over the stables,’ Sergeant Larry Granville whispered harshly so no one could overhear.
Esa showed no fear at the threat and said, ‘Stay out of this, Granville. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.’
‘He’s my man, Esa. Leave him be. Get gone Sloan.’
Esa turned slowly and faced the square-jawed Granville after Sloan had disappeared. Even though he was almost six-feet tall, Granville had a further four inches on him.
‘All I wanted to know is where Simeon was?’
‘He told you, now get.’
As Esa started to leave, Granville called after him. ‘I know what you and Perkins are tryin’ to do, Esa. Shelby told me. You�
��re both mad. Tryin’ to use Apaches to help your cause. All you two stupid bastards will do is get the men killed. The cause is dead. Even the General knows it.’
Esa turned and said, ‘This ain’t over.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ Granville corrected him. ‘Be gone.’
The big sergeant took one last look around the stables to see if there was anybody else there. Satisfied that he was alone, he turned and walked out the double-doors that led onto the parade ground.
The air outside was chill against his skin and the sky was clear so the moon and stars stood out brightly. Granville made to walk on when there was movement behind him. He whirled about to face Esa.
‘What the hell …?’
Granville got no further before his opposite number raised his six-gun and shot him in the face. The effect of the .44 caliber slug on human flesh and bone was devastating. It destroyed everything in its path until the back of Granville’s head exploded violently outwards.
The body collapsed at Esa’s feet with a dull thud. He looked down with disdain at the corpse and then hawked. He rolled the globule around in his mouth then spat on the dead man’s ruined face.
He sniffed and said, ‘Damned traitor.’
~*~
Somewhere in the moonlit darkness off to the east, a coyote yipped and finished with a drawn out high-pitched howl. It was instantly answered by two more. One to the southeast and another to the northwest.
Savage poked at the small fire with a stick and said, ‘I see you got some friends out there hangin’ around.’
‘They ain’t coyotes,’ Lucifer pointed out.
‘I know. You want to hope they don’t get you. They’ll kill you nice and slow. Probably take a week. Peel the skin right off you.’
‘What about you?’
‘Hell, they’ll probably kill me just for associatin’ with you. I know I would.’
Lucifer’s face grew hard and he said, ‘I’ll go and check the horses.’
‘No,’ said Savage with a shake of his head. ‘I will.’
‘Don’t you trust me?’ Lucifer sneered.
‘I’d trust a coiled rattler before I’d trust you, Lucifer,’ Savage answered. ‘Even them Apaches out there are more trustworthy than you.’
Lucifer’s voice took on a hard edge. ‘When this is done, you and me are goin’ to have a reckonin’.’