by Jake Henry
‘Even if he wants to give the cause away and go home?’
They looked at each other and nodded.
‘We’ve had just about enough of all this,’ the first man told Savage. ‘We wouldn’t mind goin’ home ourselves.’
‘So then you’ll help me?’
‘Do what?’
‘Bust Shelby out of the guardhouse?’ Savage said.
‘We will,’ they agreed.
‘What are your names?’
‘Fox,’ said the first man. He was only young with a babyish face and red hair.
‘I’m Munn,’ said the second man who was in his thirties with dirty blond hair.
‘Let’s go then.’
Eleven
The sentry they found at lookout rock was bound and gagged so he wouldn’t make any noise. Then Munn stayed behind to take up his position while Savage and Fox closed on the fort under the cover of darkness.
The night air of the desert was cold and the cloudless sky did little to help. The moon was a silver sliver in the sky surrounded by blinking pinpricks of light. Savage and Fox dismounted from their horses while still a good distance out and led them in on foot, their boots making soft squeaking sounds in the desert sand.
They stopped in the darkened shadow of an adobe building where they left their horses ground-hitched. There were no sentries visible however that didn’t mean that they weren’t there.
‘You lead the way,’ Savage told Fox. ‘Just remember this. If by some chance you change your mind and try to betray me, I’ll put a bullet in your head before you can blink.’
‘I ain’t goin’ to cause you no trouble,’ Fox told him. ‘I just want this to be over. After what I saw happen today, I’ve had enough.’
‘Get movin’.’
Savage followed Fox closely as they moved from shadow to shadow until they reached the wall of the guardhouse. Savage leaned against it and could feel the heat of the day still seeping from the hard, mud-brick wall.
They paused there briefly then Fox moved around to the front where the door was located. There were some muffled words followed by a dull thud. Fox reappeared, dragging the guardhouse sentry by his arms.
‘It’s all clear,’ he whispered harshly as he grabbed the unconscious man’s campaign hat and put it on. Then he held up the keys he’d relieved the guard of. ‘I’ll stand watch while you talk to the General.’
Fox stood outside the door while Savage slipped into the guardhouse. He moved his way along the dimly lit corridor and came to a stop halfway along.
‘General?’ he said cautiously. ‘General Shelby?’
‘Who is it?’ a quiet voice came back from behind the second door along.
‘Savage.’
‘What are you doing here? Is Simeon with you?’
Savage unlocked the door and opened it. Shelby stepped out into the hallway and looked about.
‘Where’s Simeon? I sent him after you to warn you about what Perkins was up to.’
‘He’s dead,’ Savage told Shelby and went on to relate how he’d found the captain and also about his brush with Cochise.
‘Damn it,’ Shelby cursed. ‘We need to get some men together and stop Perkins from delivering those guns to the Apaches.’
‘It’s too late for that,’ Savage informed him. ‘They already have them. The only problem is that it backfired spectacularly. Delshay double-crossed him once he had the rifles. They rode into an ambush and were slaughtered.’
A rage burned in Shelby that caused him to tremble as though ready to explode.
‘All those men, my men,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I hope the bastard died slowly.’
‘Accordin’ to the two survivors I found, the yellow son of a bitch lit out when things got tough,’ Savage explained.
That seemed to surprise Shelby because the man he knew had shown tremendous courage under fire. He dismissed the thought and said to Savage, ‘Come with me.’
‘Where are we goin’?’
‘To take back my damned fort.’
~*~
Esa Brown was seated behind the commanding officer’s desk in the adobe building used as Shelby’s headquarters. He was dreaming about the new Confederacy when the three of them burst in.
‘What the hell …?’ he blurted out as he stared down the barrel of the six-gun in Savage’s fist.
‘Get up Esa,’ Shelby snarled. ‘You and that damned traitorous bastard Perkins are done.’
‘Esa stood up, his jaw set defiantly. ‘You won’t get away with this. When the Major gets back he’ll have you all shot.’
‘He isn’t coming back,’ Shelby informed him. ‘The damned fool got his entire command slaughtered by the Apaches.’
Esa’s face paled. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You better damn well believe it. I was there. I saw the yeller dog run out on us with his tail between his legs,’ Fox supplied.
Esa was stunned.
‘Take him away and lock him up, trooper Fox,’ Shelby ordered. ‘I’ll work out what to do with him in the morning.’
Fox escorted the still numb sergeant out and Shelby turned to Savage.
‘Thank you for your help, Mr. Savage,’ he said gratefully. ‘But I wondered if I might impose myself and request your further help?’
Savage nodded. ‘You’d best tell me what you want.’
Shelby’s expression grew stern and he started to pace about the room. ‘With the death of Ben Simeon, I lost the main person upon whom I could place my total trust beyond any doubt. I would like you to take his place until I can get things back in order.’
‘I don’t mean any offense, General, but I ain’t no Johnny Reb.’
‘And that is why I want your help. Because you aren’t one of them.’
Savage thought for a moment. ‘What do you propose to do?’
‘Come tomorrow I shall have a special parade of those who are left,’ Shelby explained. ‘After which I shall form them up and ride to the nearest fort where I will officially surrender.’
‘We’ll need to get past the Apaches first,’ Savage observed.
‘I was hoping that If I give you a couple of good men, you might ride scout for the column,’ Shelby commented.
‘Are you prepared to get more of your men killed?’ Savage asked. ‘Sure as shootin’ they’ll be called upon to fight.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘And more than likely you’ll be outnumbered.’
A wry smile crossed Shelby’s face. ‘Something we’re more than used to.’
‘All right then, I’ll scout.’
‘Thank you.’
The door banged back and Fox staggered in, blood streaming from a gash to his head. Savage hurried to his side to steady him.
‘What happened?’ he asked as he guided him to a seat.
‘The son of a bitch distracted me long enough to belt me,’ Fox explained. ‘After he did that he run off into the dark. He’s out in the desert now, somewhere.’
‘Stay here,’ Shelby ordered Fox and made for the door. Savage followed close behind him.
They were halfway across the dusty parade ground when a coyote sounded out in the darkness of the desert. Savage put his hand on Shelby’s arm to halt him.
Shelby felt the tension in Savage and when he spoke it was almost a whisper. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Have your men stand to, General. Delshay and his Apaches have arrived.’
~*~
Munn didn’t stand a chance when Delshay and his warriors came through. After the day he’d had the last thing he should be doing was standing watch. He was drained, spent, and he fought hard to keep his eyes open.
It was a battle he lost convincingly and was soon emitting soft snores .
The darkness produced a wraith-like shadow, moving silently like fluid over the rocks. The Apache’s left hand clamped on Munn’s chin and lifted it, exposing the flesh of his throat. The knife was drawn swiftly across it, biting deep and brought forth a flood o
f warm blood that spilled down the trooper’s front.
The Apache cast the lifeless form aside then moved swiftly to kill the trussed sentry who lay writhing on the ground in an attempt to get away. After he’d finished his grisly work, he stood upon the rock and signaled the waiting horde which swept over the ridge and into the valley beyond.
~*~
Esa had no idea of the direction he was running in or where it would take him, as he stumbled once more. All he knew was that if he stayed, he would die in front of a firing squad. Parts of his body throbbed where the wicked spines of a prickly pear were embedded.
The faint moonlight hadn’t cast sufficient illumination for him to see the clump of cactus and he’d tripped and fallen upon it. When he’d managed to regain his feet he’d hurriedly pulled some of the painful barbs from his hands, arms, legs, and even his face.
Although the night air was cool, sweat still coursed down his face mixing with the blood that seeped from the wounds on his cheeks.
Esa had decided to go as far as he could before daylight then find a place to hide for the daylight hours. The last thing he wanted was to be caught out in the open, on foot, by the Yavapai.
As he blundered on, Esa was totally unaware of the three figures closing the gap to his left and right. The Apache on his left crashed into him with such force that stunned him and forced all the air from his lungs.
By the time he regained his senses it was too late, and all three of the warriors had him imprisoned in their grasp. Worst of all, Esa was still alive.
Twelve
It had taken the remainder of the night, but when the sun rose over Fort Jackson the following morning, all was in readiness for an attack. Shelby had tried to plug the gaps in the perimeter by whatever means necessary. Wagons and even furniture had been used.
His men were spread thin, though they were well armed and had enough ammunition for a lengthy siege. What they didn’t have was enough water, the source of which was outside of their perimeter.
The desert was eerily silent as the troopers waited for it to come alive with the piercing shrieks and war cries of attacking Apaches. The shrieks they did hear weren’t those of mounted or even dismounted attackers. They were the painful screams of Esa Brown.
Delshay had him staked out and naked. They made sure he remained conscious as they started to slice off his eyelids bringing forth his first screams. They followed it up by using cactus spines like miniature skewers and stuck them into his eyeballs.
The Apaches toyed with him for the next hour with knives, hot coals and whatever else they could think of to prolong the pain. Eventually, his screams became a hoarse croak. They finished it off by tying him to a pony and took him for a drag.
~*~
‘It sounds like they’ve finished with whoever they were torturing,’ Shelby observed.
A shout brought attention to the level ground at the front of the fort where the trail came in. An Apache rode hell-for-leather through the cactus dragging something behind his mustang. It didn’t take long to work out what it was as it bounced over the desert floor.
Riding a large arc, the warrior turned and swept back along the barricade at the front of the fort. Once he reached the trail, the Indian released his burden and kept riding. What remained of Esa Brown came to a halt right in the middle. So stunned were the onlookers that no one fired a shot.
Savage cursed under his breath and raised the Yellow Boy to his shoulder. He sighted along the octagonal barrel and lined it up on the retreating Apache’s muscular bronze back. He squeezed the trigger and the rifle bucked, spewing blue-gray gun smoke from its muzzle. Through the cloud in front of him, Savage saw the warrior throw up his arms and fall when the .44 Henry slug blew his spine in half.
‘He won’t be doing that again in a hurry,’ Shelby said. ‘Good shot.’
Two soldiers jumped the barricade and ran out to see whose the body was. When they left it there Savage had a fair idea.
‘It’s Brown, General,’ one of the men called to Shelby.
He nodded, ‘Got his comeuppance if you ask me.’
Savage kept his eyes on the desert. In his mind, he tried to work out what Delshay might do.
‘What do you think, Mr. Savage?’ Shelby asked.
‘Just call me Savage, General, no need for Mr.’
‘Fine, but what do you think?’
‘Your fort is bordered on three sides by broken ground,’ Savage explained. ‘The fourth side, out along the trail there to the west, is pretty much level goin’. So if Delshay wants to make a mounted assault on this place, then will be the only ground suitable for his horses.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Shelby acknowledged. ‘Although I do not think that he’ll throw all of his braves against us there.’
Savage shook his head. ‘If I was him I’d put my best shots on that high ground to the north where they can fire down into the fort. I’d make a light charge with mounted warriors from the west along the flat ground and then use a heavier assault force over the broken ground to the east and south once we were engaged with the mounted charge.’
Shelby liked Savage’s thinking and acknowledged it. ‘I could have used you in my brigade. That is a sound strategy. Let’s hope that our friend out there doesn’t think like that.’
‘I guess we’re about to find out,’ Savage said, nodding at a low ridge to the southwest.
Turning to look, Shelby saw the line of mounted warriors, maybe thirty in total.
Savage drew his gaze away and looked to the north. He studied the high ground with the practiced eye of a commanding officer. Beside him, Shelby started to issue orders to his men.
Straining to make out anything suspicious, Savage’s eyes roamed back and forth until he started to feel relieved that there was nothing to worry about. He was about to turn back when he caught the flicker of movement on the slope.
‘Get down!’ Savage shouted as he lunged at Shelby.
Surprised, he swiveled to look at Savage but was tackled solidly to the hard earth of the parade ground.
‘What the …?’ was all Shelby got out before the slope came alive with puffs of gun smoke closely followed by the flat reports of the rifles.
Most of the first volley missed but there were a few troopers who were unlucky enough to stop lead. Their cries of pain drifted across the fort grounds as more shots were fired from above.
‘I suggest we find ourselves some cover, Savage,’ Shelby said, dragging himself to his feet.
Both men ran towards one of the barrack buildings, bullets whipping through the air, cracking loudly as they passed close. They took refuge against its earthen wall and gathered themselves.
‘It would seem that you are partially right,’ Shelby gasped, sucking in some deep breaths.
‘Let’s hope I wasn’t totally right,’ Savage said.
A trooper who had run across the parade ground to help a wounded comrade took a bullet in his throat which left a gaping exit wound. He stopped in his tracks and blood fountained from a severed artery. Slowly he sank to the ground and lay still.
‘Bastards,’ Shelby snarled.
The volley of fire from the high ground acted as a signal for the mounted Apaches to start their attack and they came off the ridge screaming and whooping. Sporadic rifle fire came from the front barricade but was quickly quelled with a snapped command from the sergeant in charge.
‘Can I make a suggestion, General?’ Savage asked.
‘By all means, but make it quick,’ Shelby told him.
‘Do you have any sharpshooters under your command?’
‘A couple.’
‘It might pay to put them on one of the roofs takin’ shots at the shooters on the high ground,’ Savage suggested. ‘Might even get a few of them. At worst it’ll keep their heads down.’
Shelby nodded. ‘A sound idea. I’ll see to it.’
Savage watched as he disappeared.
A volley of gunfire erupted at the front barricade and the chargin
g line of Apaches was met with a hail of lead. Horses and riders fell as it scythed through their ranks. The almost human screams of the wounded animals brought visions of scarred battlefields from the war.
A second volley brought down more and stopped the probe in its tracks.
It was then that gunfire erupted on the east side. It appeared that Delshay had read Savage’s mind. He levered a round into the Winchester’s breech and ran to join the troopers as they tried to defend against the swarming Apaches.
~*~
Belly down amongst the rocks, perhaps half a mile from Fort Jackson, lay Major Christopher Perkins. He watched in silence as the wave of riders hit the front of the fort. He saw men die on both sides of the fight. He saw the puffs of gun smoke from the high ground and he saw something else that the defenders couldn’t. He could see the hidden warriors scattered throughout the broken ground of gullies, rocks, and cactus to the east and estimated their numbers to be around one hundred.
Since the meeting with the guns, Delshay’s numbers had swelled some and Perkins figured that even though the soldiers were well trained, the Apaches would eventually overwhelm them. As he watched, the charge of the mounted warriors came to an abrupt halt from the fire they came under.
However, their job was done. The distraction seemed to have worked and as that attack faltered, the Indians hidden in the broken ground rose up and commenced their attack. He stayed until the front wave of the attacking Indians breached the perimeter then he slid backward out of sight to where his horse was. He stood up, climbed into the saddle, and rode away with the pop-pop of gunfire still sounding in the distance.
Thirteen
Savage wiped at the thin rivulet of blood that ran down the right-side of his face, with his sleeve. The cut in his left shoulder burned and the one on his back felt much the same. On both sides of him were dead troopers. One had an arrow through his throat and the other had taken a bullet to his chest.
He rested the Winchester on the barricade and reloaded it. Then did the same with his Remington. The fort had been hit hard but for the moment the gunfire had ceased. All around him, there were dead soldiers and Indians. Once the Apaches had breached the perimeter the fighting became ugly.