Frank and Vivian were still out there somewhere. His children, his lost twins, the two youngsters who were depending on him, waiting for him, whether they knew it or not. He would never give up looking for them.
By the time he finished eating and went back outside, more people were moving around. He spotted Kingman saddling a horse and went over to him.
Kingman glanced at Conrad, then deliberately looked away. His face was set in cold, stony lines.
“I’ve already been up to the pass,” Conrad said. “No sign of Hissop and Leatherwood yet.”
Kingman grunted as he pulled a saddle cinch tight. “They’ll be here.”
“I know. I’m headed back up there now. I want to be ready to light those fuses when the time comes.”
“I’m lighting the fuses,” Kingman snapped.
“We talked about this,” Conrad said. “It’s too dangerous, and folks here in the valley need you too much. Especially Selena.”
He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. Kingman turned sharply toward him. “If I get killed, that means you and Selena can be together without having to worry about me. That works out better for both of you.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Conrad said. “I’ve told you, there’s nothing between us, and I’m not staying here. I’m heading for San Francisco as soon as I can.”
“Why don’t you take her with you?” Kingman sneered. “She’ll make a good Gentile slut.”
Conrad’s hands clenched instinctively into fists. He didn’t want Kingman talking about Selena that way, even though he had no real feelings for her except some sympathy and mild affection. Kingman appeared to be on the verge of striking out as well, and the feeling of imminent violence was thick in the air.
There was no way of knowing what might have happened. At that moment, shots rang out up at the pass, their reports rolling across the valley and echoing from the surrounding mountains.
Chapter 36
Conrad and Kingman jerked around at the sound of the shots and stared toward the pass. Then Kingman leaped into the saddle and kicked his horse into a gallop. At that moment, Selena stepped onto the cabin porch. “Dan!” she called as he flashed past.
He didn’t slow down. He didn’t even glance at her.
Conrad didn’t waste any time, either. His mount was still saddled, and he swung up just as Arturo came out of the cabin.
“Grab your rifle and keep it close!” Conrad told his friend. “If they get through the pass, it’ll be a fight!”
He sent his horse thundering after Kingman, who had about a hundred yard lead on him.
It wasn’t really a race, of course. The enemy forces wouldn’t be at the pass yet. The guards had orders to start shooting as soon as Hissop and Leatherwood came in sight. That served two purposes: it alerted everybody in the valley that trouble had arrived, and it would draw Hissop and Leatherwood on, right into the pass where they needed to be for the trap to work.
Conrad’s horse was a little faster than Kingman’s mount. By the time Kingman reached the pass, Conrad was only about fifty yards behind him. Kingman rode all the way through the pass to the boulders at the other end where the guards were posted. More rifle blasts bounced back and forth between the looming stone walls of the pass, setting up quite a racket.
Conrad was only a couple heartbeats behind Kingman in dismounting. They slapped their horses with their hats, sending the animals galloping back out of the pass to safety. Grabbing their rifles, they joined the guards in the rocks. Conrad dropped into a crouch beside one of the men. “Where are they?”
“Down there about half a mile.” The man pointed along the trail on the eastern side of the ridge that meandered down toward the salt flats. Conrad peered around the boulder and spotted about two dozen riders. He saw smoke spurt from rifle muzzles and heard the whipcrack of the shots.
“Their bullets are falling short,” the sentry said. “We’ve got the high ground so we’ve been able to reach them with a few rounds. I think we may have wounded a couple, but we haven’t knocked anybody out of the fight.”
“You’re doing fine,” Conrad told the man. “They don’t look like they’re slowing down, and we don’t want them to.”
As a matter of fact, the avenging angels were charging pretty recklessly. Conrad tried to pick out Hissop and Leatherwood, but the distance was too great. All he could see was a group of trigger-happy killers in dusters and broad-brimmed hats.
“Kingman, take these men and get out of here,” Conrad said as he lined up a shot. He squeezed it off and saw one of the attackers rock back in the saddle. The man managed to stay mounted, so he could have just been grazed.
“Forget it,” Kingman snapped. “You get out, Browning. You’re the one she wants, anyway.”
“You’re crazy!” Conrad argued. “You’ve got it all wrong, Kingman.”
“Uh . . . maybe we should all pull back,” the other guard suggested. “Those riders are gonna be here in a couple minutes.”
Conrad nodded. “Go! Get back to the cabins and gather everybody outside the other end of the pass. In case any of Leatherwood’s men get through you’ll have to finish them off.”
Both guards nodded grimly, and one of them said, “We can do that.”
They took off at a run for their horses. Conrad and Kingman lingered at the mouth of the pass, peppering the attackers with shots and luring them on.
“Blast it, get out!” Kingman said as he levered his Winchester.
“Too late,” Conrad grated. The riders were closer, and their bullets were bouncing and whining around the rocks. “You light the fuse on one side, and I’ll get the other!”
Kingman hesitated for a second before he jerked his head in a nod. He leaped to his feet. “Let’s go!”
Conrad charged back through the pass beside him. Thundering hoofbeats rose behind them. A slug sizzled past Conrad’s ear as he veered toward the left-hand wall of the pass. Delving in his pocket he closed his hand around several lucifers he had placed there earlier. He brought the matches out as he reached the dangling fuse.
He snapped one of the lucifers to life with his thumbnail and held it at the end of the fuse as flame spurted. The powder-laced cord caught instantly, giving off a flare of sparks and a puff of smoke. Another bullet ricocheted off the rock wall near Conrad. He glanced toward the eastern end of the pass and saw the riders crowding into it. Muzzle flashes stabbed from their guns.
Conrad whirled away from the fuse and broke into a run again, zigzagging away from the sputtering cord. He hoped the attackers were focused on his running figure and wouldn’t notice the sparks from the burning fuse. A glance to his right showed him Kingman had succeeded in lighting his fuse, and was racing for the western end of the pass.
Suddenly, Kingman cried out in pain, grabbed at his thigh, and went down. He rolled over a couple times and came up clutching his thigh. Blood welled between his fingers where a bullet had torn the flesh.
Instead of continuing to run straight for the end of the pass, Conrad angled toward Kingman. As he dashed across the pass he fired the Winchester on the run, throwing slugs toward the charging riders as fast as he could work the repeater’s lever.
Kingman waved an arm and yelled, “No, no! Get out of here, Browning!”
Conrad ignored him and stopped shooting so he’d have a free hand. He barely slowed down as he hooked Kingman’s arm and dragged the man to his feet. Kingman yelled in pain as Conrad forced him to run on the wounded leg, but he managed to keep moving as bullets flew around them. Conrad’s steely fingers clamped around Kingman’s arm kept him from collapsing again.
As they reached the mouth of the pass, Conrad glanced back and saw that all of the avenging angels were between the walls, strung out in a line. At that instant, the first charge blew, followed half a second later by the lowest bundle of dynamite on the opposite wall. The terrible roar grew in strength and intensity as the blasts alternated from side to side until all six charges had detonated with cataclysmic res
ults. Huge chunks of rock flew through the air, and even bigger slabs slid and toppled into the pass. Men and horses screamed in sheer terror and tried to get out of the way, but they were too far into the pass to retreat and too far away from the western end to escape that way. With all the sound and fury of the world coming to an end, the pass collapsed on itself, burying the avenging angels for all time.
The wave of force radiating out from the series of explosions picked up Conrad and Kingman and flung them forward, sending them tumbling over the ground. Small rocks and chunks of debris pelted them. Conrad put his arms over his head to protect it as he came to a stop on his belly. Kingman lay a few yards away, trying to cover up in similar fashion.
Conrad couldn’t hear anything except a ringing in his ears. Gradually, that died away, and he became aware only pebbles were pattering down around them. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and looked around. A huge cloud of dust that looked like a massive thunderhead boiled out of the pass and climbed into the blue sky. Conrad knew the charges had worked. The men who had been trapped in the pass were all dead, and the pass itself was closed, probably for good.
But his instincts were crying out to him that something was still wrong. As he struggled to his feet, he realized what it was.
“Kingman! Kingman, are you all right?” Conrad’s voice sounded strangely muffled to his ears, but he could hear the words, which was encouraging. He stumbled over to the man, dropped to a knee, and shook his shoulder. “Hey!”
Kingman stared up at Conrad dazedly. “What?” he shouted. “I can’t hear!”
“Take it easy,” Conrad told him. “Your hearing will come back.”
While Kingman waited for that to happen, Conrad checked his wounded leg. A bullet had plowed a deep, bloody furrow in the outside of the thigh, but it appeared no bones were broken. The wound needed to be cleaned and bandaged, and he would have to stay off his feet for a while, but Conrad thought he should be all right.
“Browning!” Kingman clutched at Conrad’s arm. “Browning, did we get them?”
Conrad nodded. “We got them. But . . . Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah, sort of. Everything sounds strange.”
Conrad’s ears were getting back to normal. He said, “We got them, but there may still be a problem. I didn’t see Hissop or Leatherwood. They may not have been with the others.”
Kingman struggled to a sitting position and gave a little shake of his head as if he were trying to clear some cobwebs out of it. “Hissop and Leatherwood weren’t with the rest of them? But where could—”
Conrad didn’t have to answer that question.
A sudden flurry of gunshots from the direction of the settlement was all the answer either of them needed.
Chapter 37
Conrad lunged to his feet and started toward the cabins, but Kingman exclaimed, “Browning! Don’t leave me here! I need to get down there, too.”
Conrad hesitated, but only for a second. Grabbing hold of Kingman’s arm he lifted the man to his feet. Their horses were nearby, looking a little spooked but not panicking. Kingman’s ride would hurt like hell with that bad leg, but it was his choice.
Conrad’s brain was racing as he helped him mount up, then swung into the saddle himself. One: He might need Kingman’s gun. Two: He had told the guards to gather the men from the valley at that end of the pass in case any of the avenging angels made it through the avalanche. Three: They weren’t here. Four: Something had happened to stop them from coming.
Something . . . or someone.
“They found another way in!” Kingman shouted over the pounding hoofbeats of their horses.
Conrad nodded. He had figured it out already. Fearing a trap, Hissop had split his forces, sending some of the avenging angels to their deaths in the pass while he and Leatherwood circled around with the rest of the men and entered the valley by another route. They had taken Ollie and the other defenders by surprise, although that smattering of gunshots testified that some of the men had been able to put up a fight.
However, the gunfire had stopped, leaving an ominous silence hanging over the valley, a silence broken only by the swift rataplan of hoofbeats from the horses being ridden by Conrad and Kingman.
Dust continued to billow out of the pass behind and above them as they raced toward the cabins. Conrad suddenly hauled back on the reins. In the large open area in front of the burned ruins of Kingman’s cabin, two figures stood. One was tall and slender, wore a skirt, and had long blond hair that flowed far down her back. The other figure was shorter and stockier and even from that distance gave off an air of ugly menace. Elder Agonistes Hissop had his left arm clenched tightly around Selena’s waist, while his right hand held a long-barreled revolver that he prodded into her side.
Kingman had brought his horse to a stop in shock, too. He whispered, “No . . .”
“Come on!” Hissop called to them. “Come closer and see what your sins have wrought! Come and face the judgment and wrath of the Lord!”
“You’re not the Lord!” Kingman shouted back in a choked voice. “You’re just a man! A twisted, evil little man!”
Selena cried out as Hissop pressed the gun barrel harder into her side. “I’ll kill this harlot who dared to defy God’s will! I swear I will, unless you do as I say!”
“Play along with him,” Conrad said quietly as his gaze darted over the settlement. He didn’t see anyone moving around, but he spotted a couple rifle barrels sticking around cabin corners. Hissop’s men must have herded all the prisoners into one place, most likely the barn. Scattered around, the followers covered the little fanatic as he threatened Selena.
“If we ride up there he’ll kill us,” Kingman said.
“If we don’t, he’s liable to kill Selena. He’s crazy enough to do it.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Kingman muttered. He hitched his horse into a slow walk toward Hissop and Selena. Conrad rode alongside him.
“That’s far enough!” Hissop said when they were about twenty feet away. Both men reined in. They were close enough Conrad could see Selena was trembling a little in Hissop’s grasp. Her eyes were wide with terror, but there was something else in them as well. After a second, Conrad recognized it as anger. She was filled with outrage that once again Father Agony was trying to control her life.
“How did you get in here?” Kingman demanded. “This is our home!”
Hissop laughed. “You have no home, boy! You are an outcast. You are the banished! God has turned His face away from you, and you are forced to flee from the garden!”
“Juniper Canyon is about as far from the Garden of Eden as any place I can imagine,” Kingman shot back. “And you’re about as far from God. More like the Devil.”
“Don’t blaspheme any worse than you already have,” Hissop warned. “On the other hand, your soul is already damned to eternal torment in the fiery pit, so what more harm can you do? As for how I and the other servants of the Lord got into this valley of yours . . . you pitiful young fool, do you think you’re the only one who’s ever been here? I explored every foot of this territory before the angels of the Lord led me to Juniper Canyon! I knew this valley was here long before you did, and I know every way in and out of it. It was child’s play to come around from the other direction, enter the valley, and take your men by surprise.”
Kingman frowned. “But I don’t understand. If you knew this valley was here, why did you settle in Juniper Canyon? The water and the soil and the grass are all better over here. This is paradise!”
“Of course it is!” Hissop cried. “Do you think I wanted a ready-made paradise for my people? How would they ever learn to appreciate what God has given them if they didn’t have to struggle for it? I looked at this place and saw nothing but Satan’s temptation! I looked at Juniper Canyon and saw how hard work could transform it into a place where my people could live and make their homes without ever taking anything for granted. I saw a place that would be ours because we fought the Indians
and the elements and the earth itself for everything that it gave us!”
Oddly enough, Conrad could see Hissop’s point. He didn’t agree with it, necessarily, but he could understand why the elder had felt that way all those decades ago when he had established his community in Juniper Canyon, rather than in the lush valley on the other side of the salt flats. That wasteland must have represented a stark division to him.
“You’re a madman,” Kingman said. “What are you going to do now?”
“Why, I’m going to carry out the Lord’s will, of course,” Hissop declared. “You and all the rest of your sinful followers must be made examples of. You’ll be taken back to Juniper Canyon and executed. The two Gentiles we’ll kill here. They won’t set foot in our home again. As for the women, Sisters Dora, Rachel, and Caroline will be returned to their families and given in marriage to their intended husbands. This one”—Hissop dug the gun in Selena’s side again, making her gasp—“has been too defiled to ever be a proper wife for a prophet. I tried to overlook her sins, I really did, but I cannot. She will live among us as one shunned, a servant who will never be spoken to or acknowledged, for the rest of her days. It is a fitting punishment,” Hissop added piously.
Kingman looked like he was about to rave some more, but Conrad cut him off by asking, “Where’s Leatherwood?” He hadn’t seen the leader of the avenging angels, and it was hard for him to believe Leatherwood wouldn’t be front and center with Hissop, gloating over the elder’s triumph.
A look of sadness came over Hissop’s toad-like face. “That valiant warrior in the Lord’s service has gone to his reward. Jackson insisted on accompanying his men through the pass, even though we suspected there might be an ambush. We didn’t expect anything as craven as the mass murder you committed here today, though.”
The Loner: The Blood of Renegades Page 18