by Logan, Jake
“Well then, I’d best be off.” Dan stepped out of the small office, but made sure not to turn his back to Salvatore’s ghost. When it became necessary to walk through the front door of the trading post, he swore he could feel Zack’s eyes boring through the back of his skull. The old woman emerged from the kitchen with his food already wrapped up and seemed grateful that he wasn’t about to stop and eat it there.
The two men that had accompanied Dan to the trading post were outside with the horses. Karl was a squat fellow who looked as if his torso had been crudely whittled from a tree stump. His head was just a bit too big for his body, which made it seem as if he was always about to topple over when he walked. The second man’s name was Young. Dan guessed that was his last name, but had never bothered asking for confirmation. Compared to Karl, Young was skinny. Of course, everyone was skinny when they stood next to Karl.
“You find the Italian?” Young asked.
“Sure did. Remember what Bill told us when we parted ways in Texas?”
“Yeah.”
“Seems that little bastard he was chasing really was carrying something that was valuable.”
“It’s with that horse!” Karl said. “I told you we didn’t do a good enough job in searching them saddlebags!”
“It ain’t with the horse. Them two already went back and searched that carcass. Whatever Jack was carrying that was so valuable, he wouldn’t just leave it behind. He’s got it or he knows where it is, but he wouldn’t leave it with that dead animal. We need to ride back to that town where Bill’s being kept.”
“Why? You think we can bust him out?”
“No. Actually, you should go. I don’t think anyone got a real good look at you.”
Young’s ratlike face twisted in disapproval and didn’t find any comfort by glancing over to Karl. Finally, he asked, “What am I gonna do?”
Rather than ask the other two to follow him away from the trading post, Dan mounted his horse and simply started riding. The others fell into step quickly enough and the three of them were putting the little structure behind them before Salvatore or his gunman stepped outside.
“We’re taking up the job that Bill was too incompetent to do,” Dan said after they were far enough away from the trading post to have some privacy.
“Incompetent?” Karl sputtered. “He wouldn’t take too kindly to bein’ called that.”
Dan was quick to reply, “I’m sure he wouldn’t, but he won’t hear me say that. You know why? He’s in a jail cell. You know why he’s there? He’s incompetent.”
“Guess you got a point there.” Despite his agreement, Karl’s voice was so low that he seemed nervous about being overheard.
“We’re after a man named Jack Halsey. Bill was tracking him through West Texas when he got rounded up by that posse on his way here.”
“Was he one of them fellas we chased out of that stable?” Young asked.
“I think so. Bill was the only one that got a good look at him. He had a picture that he showed me, but I want to make sure that’s Halsey before we chase the wrong man across every territory under the sun. I also wanna know about the other man that was with him. Halsey was alone all this time and now he’s got someone doin’ his shootin’ for him. That asshole already killed Jeremiah and I want to know if he’s a lawman or just some hired hand. You go into town, ask at the hotel or saloon or back at that livery about those men.”
“I been scouting before,” Young said. “I know how to look for someone.”
“Fine. Then do it. Don’t wear your gun. Change your clothes. Make sure you don’t look the same as when we were there before.”
“Try taking a bath,” Karl offered.
Before Young could get his nose bent too far out of joint, Dan said, “That should make a difference. At least splash some water on your face to wash off a few layers of grime.”
“Got anything else to say?” Young asked.
“Yeah,” Dan replied. “If you mess this up and get caught, you’re on yer own.”
9
Slocum began his search back at the cave. Now that he had more of a purpose for being there, he dismounted and tied his horse to a tree so he could take a closer look for himself. He’d done a fair amount of tracking, but could think of other men who were better suited for the job. Time was a factor, and there was always a chance that Jack might come to his senses to realize what a fool’s errand they were on before paying the agreed-upon fee, so Slocum put his nose to the grindstone and got to work.
“Why are we still here?” Jack whined.
“Isn’t this the last place you saw those wolves that attacked you?” Slocum asked.
“Yes.”
“Then these tracks are the ones we want to follow. Can’t exactly expect much success if we start off following the wrong trail. Maybe you should help me instead of complaining.”
Jack lent his eyes to the task of picking up the trail left by the wolves, but didn’t stop muttering under his breath while cradling his wounded hand. Although Slocum knew the wounds were bad, he was amused by the fact that the pain became worse when it was time to do something other than talk.
“I think they headed east,” Slocum said.
“You sure about that?”
He wasn’t, but admitting as much wasn’t going to make life any easier. “As sure as I can be.”
“That don’t sound good.”
“If you know so much about tracking wolves, then let me know. Are you even certain they were wolves?”
Holding out his bandaged hand, Jack wailed, “I saw ’em close enough, didn’t I?”
“Maybe they were coyotes.”
“What difference does it make?”
Slocum squatted down to a large patch of mud surrounding a portion of rock that was shaped like a giant dent in the ground. The sides were angled only slightly, but were steep enough to have collected some of the water that fell during a short bout of rain that had passed through a few nights ago. Most of it had dried off and the rest was lapped up by the horses. In fact, Slocum’s horse had been the one to make the find. Pointing down to the hardened mud surrounding the puddle, Slocum asked, “Those look like coyote or wolf prints to you?”
Jack rushed over so quickly that Slocum almost had to stop him from trampling over the prints he’d discovered. He skidded to a halt a few paces shy of doing any damage and placed his hands upon his knees while hunkering down for a closer look. At least he tried to place his hands on his knees. The moment his bandaged right hand touched his leg, he let out a pained yelp and shifted into a wobbly sideways stance. “There’s a whole bunch of tracks,” he said. “I think some might be deer or elk or something like that. Are there elk around here?”
“You’re not much of a hunter, are you?” Pointing down to a section of mud directly across from where his horse was drinking, Slocum said, “Those right there. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah. Those do look like wolf tracks. Some sorta big dog anyways.”
“I’d say about the size of a small wolf or a large coyote. The storm that came through was about the right time for when your wolf pack would have still been here. Did they get to you before or after the rain fell?”
Jack closed his eyes and thought about it for a few seconds. “That night’s kind of a mess when I try to think about it.”
“Looks like plenty of animals came along to drink from here, but these are some of the freshest tracks in this mud. If the rain came before you were attacked, they may have been put down when the pack passed here before meeting up with you. Or it could have been some other pack. It’s not like there’s a shortage of coyotes around here.”
“No,” Jack said sharply. “These are the same hellhounds that got to me. I know it.”
“Hellhounds?” Slocum chuckled. “I thought them being wolves was pushing it.”
“Laugh all you want. I know these are the tracks we’re after because it was raining when I started walking into town to get to that doctor. Makes
sense for them to have gone into the cave for shelter that night because it was pouring! Then they came by here to drink before heading off again.”
“That might explain why you got far enough away for them to lose interest before running you down and finishing you off.”
Jack snapped his fingers. “I just thought of something! We can also look for blood spilled on the ground.”
“Yours?”
“No! I was shooting at them. Sure it was raining, but I was also shooting at them when they tried to come at me again. I emptied a whole cylinder firing at those monsters and had to hit something.”
Slocum had his doubts about that. Not only was Jack panicked, but he was most likely not using his right hand to hold his gun. His left hand would have been unfamiliar and shaky. Even under the best conditions, he doubted anyone could hit a moving target with a cobbled-together firearm like the one hanging on Jack’s hip. Rather than piss on the other man’s fire any more than he already had, Slocum said, “It’s most likely the blood was washed away.”
“Ahh. You’re probably right about that. But those are the tracks! They’re fresh enough, and if there were that many coyotes or wolves around here, odds are some of them would have taken a run at me between here and that town.”
“Now there’s a good point. Some of the tracks lead toward your camp, but others head to the east.”
“You sure about that?”
“As sure as I can be. Again, you don’t trust my judgment, you’re more than capable of hiring someone else for the job.”
“No, I trust you, John. I just didn’t think we’d actually have a chance in hell of catching those things. What that animal took from me is mighty valuable. Looks like I may actually see it again.”
“Don’t get excited yet. We just started this ride and could lose those dogs anywhere along the way.” Since his horse was already there, Slocum waited for it to stop drinking and then climbed into the saddle. “It’s your ring that was swallowed, so you’re the one that’ll sift through any of the scat we find.”
“You think it would’ve worked its way out so soon? I mean . . . something that size should be lodged inside of that beast for a while, right?”
Slocum shrugged. “I’ve learned plenty of things in my years of doing odd jobs and riding from one side of this country to the other. The time it takes for a piece of metal to work its way through a wolf’s ass isn’t one of them.”
“All right, then. I’ll do the dirty work.” Jack climbed into his saddle, which was much more of an ordeal than it had been for Slocum. Although, considering it had been less than a day since his fingers had gone missing, he seemed to be compensating for them pretty well.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Slocum asked. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.”
Jack started to nod, wavered for a moment, leaned over to vomit, but only managed a few dry heaves before sitting up again. “I’m fine. Don’t ask again. Makes me think about it too much.”
Slocum surveyed the terrain from the slightly higher position atop his horse. “Animals like this won’t leave a steady amount of tracks for us to follow, and we don’t have time to look for any if they did. Our best bet is to think ahead and figure where they might go.”
“You mean . . . think like a wolf.”
“More or less. Look for more watering holes or any carcasses that they might have brought down. Hopefully we can pick up their tracks somewhere along the way.”
“Or catch sight of the beasts,” Jack said.
“Right. Maybe we’ll get lucky enough for them to catch your scent and take a run at you to finish the meal they started.”
Jack lost some more of his color and choked back another dry heave. “That ain’t funny.”
They fanned out and rode abreast of each other so they could scour as much ground as possible. Although Slocum had started off the day skeptical as to whether he would be able to find much of anything, he found reason to hope that he might just earn his fee after all when they caught sight of an elk that had obviously been killed and partially eaten by a pack of wild animals. Tracks led away from there, where the terrain remained mostly flat in front of them. The Potrillo Mountains always seemed to be just out of reach, and every time Slocum looked at those mountains, he dreaded being led into them. He didn’t have any doubt that he could safely cross the rocky slopes. It wasn’t as if they were as daunting as a pass through the Rockies, but finding one pack of coyotes or wolves in them would be tough. Trying to find one before it could squeeze out a very uncomfortable piece of jewelry was damn near impossible.
If the wolf was hurting, it could make a lot of noise. But there was also the chance that it had already died and stopped leaving tracks.
It was later in the afternoon when the sun’s rays hit the ground at an angle that bounced perfectly off several spots on the desert floor, causing them to glimmer like mirrors embedded in the earth. Before he lost sight of them, Slocum signaled to Jack and pointed them out. “Looks like more watering holes,” he said. “You take a look at the ones over there, and I’ll take these closer to me.”
Jack waved excitedly and rode toward the spots. It wasn’t long before the angle of the sun no longer hit the puddles just right, but they were fairly close together and Slocum found almost all of the ones he’d been after. Unfortunately, the ground around them was either solid rock or too muddy to hold a print. An exasperated sigh was still leaking out of him when Slocum heard a sound from the opposite end of the emotional spectrum.
“John! Come over here! I found something!”
Slocum rushed over to where Jack was standing. Despite his haste, he still thought the other man might jump out of his skin before he arrived. “What is it?” he asked.
Jabbing a finger down to the ground, Jack exclaimed, “Look right there! Look at them tracks and tell me they ain’t the same ones we saw by the cave and that first watering hole!”
“There seems to be enough of them.” After climbing down from his horse, Slocum gazed at the imprints in the mud. “They’re not as deep. That means they were left behind when the ground wasn’t as wet.”
“That falls in line with our timetable.”
“It does.”
“And to make things better, they lead in a perfect line in that direction!”
The good part was that Jack was mostly right. From what Slocum could see of the tracks, the paw prints came from the west, circled around the watering hole, and then led off to the east. The bad part was that they were headed toward the mountains.
“I think I see some watering holes further along!” Jack said. “Let’s get after ’em!” He was excited enough to climb into his saddle without being tripped up too much by his wounded hand, and Slocum wasn’t about to do anything to slow him down. On the contrary, he was perfectly happy to let Jack take the lead as they raced toward the next set of puddles.
Most of those puddles turned out to be anything but. Some were half-buried wagon wheels that had caught the light properly to cast a convincing reflection. Some were shiny rocks. The rest were most likely mirages drifting through the addled mind of a wounded and delirious man. No matter how many false leads he found, Jack wasn’t close to losing steam. As the sunlight began to wane, he only grew more enthusiastic.
“Come on, John!” he shouted. “I see another one! Definitely more water this time!”
Slocum snapped his reins to catch up with the other man. When he did, he signaled, motioned, and finally shouted to get him to stop. As soon as he had a chance, Slocum said, “We can’t go chasing every shiny thing we see!”
“Time ain’t on our side,” Jack replied. “For all we know, them wolves are already gone.”
When Jack started to move away from him, Slocum reached out to grab the black gelding’s bridle. Fortunately for him, the horse was also tired of all that running around.
Jack turned on him with ferocity in his eyes. If he’d still had his entire right hand, he might have made a move for
his pistol. “What do you think yer doin’?”
“I’m keeping you from wasting any time. How long did you stop to look at those last couple of spots? A second or two?”
“If that! How’s that a waste o’ time?”
“Because I can think of a dozen things you could have missed by being in such a rush,” Slocum said. “If you’re gonna do something half-assed, there’s no point in doing it at all.”
Jack sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Should we go back to have another look at those first watering holes?”
Slocum let go of the other horse’s bridle and settled into his saddle. When he shifted to cast reluctant eyes at the mountains, he said, “Something tells me we won’t be able to do that.”
“Why? Because we’re runnin’ out of daylight? Maybe you think we should just head into them hills?”
“We’ve got to consider those things. Also,” he added while pointing to a ridge on one of the nearby slopes heading into a rocky wall, “there’s that.”
Jack turned to look at where Slocum was pointing. When he saw the row of Indians on horseback staring down at them from atop a ridge, his hand snapped to his holster. A snarled curse gurgled from the back of his throat when his right hand knocked against tooled leather.
“Yeah,” Slocum said. “I agree with that sentiment.”
10
Young had followed Dan’s directions by cleaning up and putting on his other set of clothes. Dan couldn’t decide if his altered appearance spoke more for the ability of the barber who’d trimmed Young’s hair, the quality of that extra set of clothes, or the amount of dirt that was normally caked onto Young’s face. Whatever it was, the difference was striking.
“So,” he said to the elderly gentleman who owned the barber shop as well as rented bathtubs to anyone with fifty cents burning a hole in their pocket, “this seems like a pretty quiet town.”