by Ben Boulden
“You just stand right there,” J.D. said.
Skousen stopped. His eyes wild.
“Come over here.”
Skousen didn’t move.
J.D. could hear Rockwell wheezing on the floor.
“Get over here, Skousen!” J.D. said. “Right now, or I’ll blow your brain all over this barn.”
Skousen gulped for air. His face flushed pale with fear. He took a tentative half step forward.
“Good boy. Now I want you to get hold of Rockwell’s arms and pull him the few feet to the wall. Then roll him over on his stomach and hog tie him.”
Skousen complied, slowly. He dragged Rockwell to the interior barn wall, rolled him onto his belly. Then he pulled a length of rope from a cleat attached to the wall.
“You stay on your belly,” J.D. said to Rockwell. “Or you’ll be only so much dead man lying on the floor.”
Rockwell wheezed.
Skousen wrapped the rope around Rockwell’s wrists and ankles, pulled it tight, and then tied a granny knot.
“Who taught you how to tie a man up?” J.D. said. “My three-year-old niece can tie a better knot than that.”
Skousen stepped away from Rockwell, faced J.D. His arms held away from his body. His Adam’s Apple danced in his throat.
“You carrying?” J.D. asked.
Confusion crossed Skousen’s face.
“Any weapons? Gun? A knife, maybe?”
Skousen shook his head.
“No knife? In your pocket maybe?”
Skousen nodded dumbly. A tremor rattled his shoulders and head. Shakily, he pulled his jacket away from his right hip where a small leather knife sheath was secured to his belt.
“Take it out,” J.D. said. “With your thumb and pinky finger.”
Skousen complied, then tossed the knife several feet away.
“Okay.” J.D. held the revolver towards Skousen. “Now I want you to free my wrist.”
J.D. could smell Skousen’s fear. Skunk, sulphur, and piss. Then J.D. noticed a darker shade of black spreading across Skousen’s crotch. A steady stream of yellow liquid dribbled from the cuff of Skousen’s right pant leg.
“Shit,” J.D. said. “You’re brave as hell, Skousen.”
A whisper of noise startled J.D. He turned quickly to his left—
A shattering pain erupted at the base of his neck, spread quickly across his shoulders and head. His vision fell into foggy gray. His only awareness the hollow, tinny sound of a voice. The words audible, but unintelligible to J.D. Then the familiar, too damn familiar black of unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 23
The desert’s heat dropped quickly with the fading sun. The high blue sky rolled into twilight, stars awoke and twinkled. With full dark the Milky Way ignited, casting its pale glow across the horizon. Kate followed Jed and Father Pacheco through the strangely twisted and shadowed landscape. The only sounds the lift and pull of iron shoes across sandy dirt. The occasional whinny of their horses. The rustling of night creatures awakening under the cover of darkness.
The landscape was becoming less alien and more familiar to Kate with its rising pinnacles of rock, towering cliff walls and barren, desolate canyon floors. A wondrous, inspiring place. It made her wish for a few nights alone with J.D., watching as the evening sun stained it orange, then the ochre of dawn. A few days of love making, talking. Nothing else. She didn’t enjoy being separated from J.D. any time, but she especially hated it now because she imagined J.D. suffering at the hands of Skousen’s men.
Jed interrupted Kate’s thoughts when he pulled his horse to a halt. He swiveled from the saddle, grunted when his feet hit the ground. “We walk from here.”
“How far?” Father Pacheco asked.
“Quarter mile,” Jed said.
Kate said, “Where do we leave the horses?”
“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere. Here is good.”
Kate swung from her saddle, dropped the reins. Her well-trained stallion stood still, head lowered. She checked the Colt, replaced it in its holster, removed the Winchester from its scabbard. She checked it was loaded, a round seated in its chamber. When she looked up, she noticed the two men watching her. She smiled hesitantly. “What?”
Father Pacheco grinned. Shook his head. “It looks like you’re going to war, Kate.”
“We are, aren’t we?”
The priest cocked his head. “Yes,” he said. “We are, but I’ve never seen anyone as focused about it.”
Kate revealed a larger smile. “Just trying to keep sharp.” She paused, looked at the two men in turn. “I guess without J.D. around I tighten up.”
“No, Kate. I don’t think it’s nervousness,” Father Pacheco said. “What I think. You know exactly what you want and its price. After all, J.D. is half of your whole. Which makes him a very lucky man.”
Kate laughed. Then said, “He sure is.” She walked over to Father Pacheco, placed her hand on his upper arm. “Thank you, Joseph.”
“For what?” Father Pacheco said, winking at Kate.
Kate squeezed Father Pacheco’s arm; turned to Jed, said, “Ready?”
Jed nodded once. “This way.”
He turned on his heel and began walking towards a cluster of misshapen boulders. Kate and Father Pacheco followed. The horses silently stood, watched, as their riders walked away. The open canyon splintered into ragged fissures of broken rock. Jed continued to a narrow gap between two large boulders that towered more than fifty feet above the canyon floor. At its entrance he stopped for a moment, whispered, “This is it.”
“The main passage?” Kate said.
Jed pointed towards what looked like solid sandstone. “Three hundred yards that way.”
“I don’t see anything but stone,” Father Pacheco said.
“It’s well hidden. The entrance sits in a depression. A low-hanging rock face, maybe eight feet off the ground, hides it from anything more than twenty feet away. Its ceiling rises to more than thirty feet in a hurry and it’s wide enough for ten cows side by side.”
“Too low to ride through?” Kate said. “The entrance?”
“Depends on the rider,” Jed said. “It may be troublesome for a big man, though.”
“And this one?” Kate pointed to the narrow passageway in front of them. “You said it isn’t used, but is it guarded?”
“Not usually,” Jed said. “Probably not at all. At least not the last time I was here. Nobody outside the valley knows about it and most of the men wouldn’t think to guard it.”
“Anything else we need to know?”
Jed shook his head.
“Joseph?” Kate said. “Anything we missed?”
“No, but I don’t like the idea of being boxed in.”
“Me either.” Kate looked at Jed. “No shooting until we get into the valley. Our only advantage is surprise.”
Kate motioned for Jed to start moving. She scanned their back trail, then the looming slick rock above. It glowed almost white under the cold light of the stars. She saw nothing unexpected, heard nothing unusual. A thrill of anxious fear blossomed for a moment before she stamped it down with the cold logic of the situation. The need to rescue J.D. and Adalina. Kate breathed deeply. Held it for a moment. Then pulled the Winchester tighter against her chest. The feel of its cold steel, its weight in her hands, a comfort.
She moved into the passage, its darkness overwhelming.
CHAPTER 24
J.D. didn’t know how long he had been unconscious, but he didn’t think much time had passed. He kept his eyes closed and remained motionless. He was flat on his back with his arms held over his head. He could feel irons cutting into both wrists and the weight of chains. Then he heard voices as the black tide retreated. A buzzing in his ears made them indistinct, but two men were speaking. One did most of the talking and the other seemed only to agree here and there by grunting and the occasional one syllable word. J.D. didn’t move or open his eyes. Instead he concentrated on the rise and fall of the voices. The cadenc
es and pauses. Then the words began to sharpen in his ears and suddenly, like a match striking stone, he could decipher their meanings.
“—problem we got here, Levi.”
Empty silence followed.
“What were you thinking, bringing him out here?” The voice familiar, but J.D. was unable to place it. “Somebody’s going to miss him and the woman. The railroad. Hell, anybody. And that means more people snooping around.”
Silence.
“He was in my jail, Levi. On a legitimate charge. When Kate comes looking, we release J.D. and hand over Jed. Then they go away. The problem—our problem—goes with them.” The man paused. J.D. heard the scuff of leather on hard ground and recognized it as nervous pacing. He also recognized the voice. Sheriff Allred. “We should have offered Jed up the second we realized what was going on. Hell, the second they rode into town.”
“I can’t just give them my son.” The voice belonged to Levi Skousen.
“Save that bullshit for your Sunday sermon. You sent Rockwell to run that little bitch of a boy out of town twice already. The next time I reckon you’d have him killed.”
“Jed’s my boy,” Skousen said. “The first. I would never kill him.”
“You’re a fool, Levi!” J.D. heard the hard sound of a slap. Then a gasp. A sob.
“Don’t hit me, Bill,” Levi said. “Please don’t hit me.”
“A fool and a coward.”
Skousen squealed with pain at the sound of another slap.
“You’re a miserable letch, Levi.”
“It’s God’s will,” Skousen said. “It’s for the Kingdom of God, Bill. You know that. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know that, Levi. You bet I know that. You and your girls. Your wives.”
“I’ve been chosen to bring souls to Christ,” Skousen said. “You know that. You know it, Bill.”
“Shut up,” Allred said. “And let me think.”
The men’s voices faded to silence. J.D. listened to the faint sound of mewling cows. The whispering wind as it traveled across the barn’s open loft and the creak of the barn’s timbers. The silence continued for what seemed like several minutes before the men spoke again.
“No use in crying over spilled milk,” Allred said.
“What do we do, Bill?” Skousen’s voice was slurred, whiny.
“Not much we can do.” Allred’s voice had quieted. It was calmer, more self-assured. “We kill them.” A moment of silence stretched into seconds. “And if anyone comes looking, J.D. and Kate stopped for a hot meal at the café and then rode on. That’s all we know.”
“What about Jed?”
Silence.
“Just don’t tell me, Bill,” Skousen said. “I don’t want to know about it. I don’t want to see it. Jed’s—”
“Shut up,” Allred interrupted. “Let’s go see if Rockwell’s back on his feet.”
J.D. heard the men walk away. The barn door squeaked open, then closed. He listened hard for several minutes, not moving, not opening his eyes. The only sounds were the rustle of small animals, the gentle cooing of doves. The creaking of wood as the barn settled into itself. It felt empty. J.D. opened his eyes. The barn’s interior shadowy, nearly dark; silvery twilight replaced afternoon’s saffron glow outside the windows.
J.D. sat up. The hard iron of his cuffs forgotten as a streak of thunder crashed behind his eyes. For a moment J.D. was overcome by nausea. He put his head between his knees, breathed deeply. As the feeling passed, J.D. surveyed his surroundings. He was bound with a single chain, each end attached to a wrist cuff. The chain was looped through a steel ring fastened to a thick six by six rough-hewn wooden post. It was five feet long with enough slack for J.D. to stand. He yanked the chain, but the ring didn’t budge and the wooden post vibrated only slightly. He looked around for any tools within his reach, but found nothing.
J.D. placed his left hand on the post for support, pushed himself up to a standing position with his right. A dizzy sensation threatened his balance. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply for a few moments, and the dizziness passed. He opened his eyes. He bounced on his toes. When he was satisfied with his equilibrium, J.D. stepped back as far as his chained hands would allow. He inhaled deeply, shifted his weight to his left leg, pulled his right leg back, exhaled, then with all his strength smashed at the post with the bottom of his boot.
The post took an admirable amount of abuse before J.D. heard its first satisfying crack. He kicked again, aimed at the same spot, with the same reward. He ignored the sweat rolling down his brow, stinging his eyes. The pain radiated from his numbed foot, up his leg to his hip. He kicked again and again, working faster as he got closer to freedom. When the post finally splintered in two J.D.’s forward momentum nearly crashed him to the floor.
J.D. righted himself, kneeled next to the fallen section of the post. It had splintered completely away from the wood above, but only partially from that buried in the hard ground. J.D. pushed it away and then pulled it back towards him. Over and over again. Each time faster and harder than the last. The muscles in his arms burned. His lungs gasped for air. Then suddenly the post gave way. It crashed into J.D.’s chest with the force of a hammer, but the exhilaration of success drowned any pain. He rolled onto his back, gasped for breath. Then smiled. His wrists were still shackled and chained to a four-foot length of wood, but now he could move around the barn and find the tools to gain his freedom.
J.D. pulled himself from the barn’s floor. Stretched, rubbed the throbbing muscles of his arms. Rolled his head around his neck. Went stone still at an unexpected sound. The creak of rusted hinges. A door, not the one he had heard Allred and Skousen use earlier, opened and closed. J.D. dropped to the ground. Strained to see in the muddy light of the barn, saw nothing. Then the sound of footsteps. First one, then another. Hesitant, J.D. thought, and almost nervous in the barn’s silence.
“Mr. Blaze?” The whispered voice of a woman.
J.D. kept his silence. Unsure of his situation and the intent of the speaker.
“Mr. B-Blaze?” A stutter drew out his name. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m—” She stopped suddenly. “I, I mean we, need your help.”
“Who are you?” J.D. whispered.
CHAPTER 25
Kate listened to Jed’s strained breathing as she approached him from behind. The moon had risen into the night sky as the trio made their passage through the fissured rock. Its empty light allowed Kate to see Jed’s shadowy figure, hands on hips, head lowered, back resting against smooth sandstone. Father Pacheco stood several feet ahead, his legs splayed wide, facing backwards toward Kate. The shadowed blackness of his hat in one hand, the other rubbing his brow.
“Jed?”
He didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t look at Kate. His chested heaved. He gulped for air with an unsettling wheeze.
Kate stood close, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Jed nodded almost imperceptibly.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s asthma,” Father Pacheco said.
“I’m fine,” Jed said, then gulped for air.
“Relax,” Kate said. “Don’t talk. Just breathe.”
He nodded.
Kate looked at Father Pacheco. It was too dark to discern anything beyond his shape. “We’re close?”
“Thirty feet,” Father Pacheco said. “I took a quick look and everything’s quiet. Didn’t see a soul.”
They had arrived in Skousen’s valley unobserved. Kate suppressed her desire to laugh gaily. She settled for a wide smile and a deep sigh.
“Show me,” Kate said to Father Pacheco.
“Follow me,” Father Pacheco said as he turned, his back to Kate, and quietly moved down the passageway.
Twenty feet ahead, the silent stone walls appeared to dead end. As Kate watched, Father Pacheco disappeared. Kate blinked. A ticklish fear rose at the back of her neck. She squinted her eyes trying to see through the darkness. After a few more steps, she unde
rstood. The passage narrowed, turned sharply left. Then, after a few feet, back to the right. It opened up and broke onto the descending valley floor. The open landscape illuminated silver-white with moonlight. Kate saw the reservoir’s shimmer. The main house with its misplaced grandeur. The oversized barn. The outbuildings. Nothing had changed since the night she and J.D. had been on the rocky mesa above.
“Go get Jed,” Kate whispered.
“Not sure we should,” Father Pacheco replied. “His breathing worries me.”
“We don’t have time to worry about it.”
Father Pacheco sighed. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his right hand, then disappeared back into the rock.
Kate put her glass on the house. A few of the windows glowed warmly with lamplight. A shadow darkened one momentarily before moving away, its appearance too brief and obscure for Kate to identify anything useful. The remaining windows were darker on the inside than out. Kate wondered which one hid Adalina. Then she thought about J.D., worried on him for a moment. There were more places to stash him than she liked to think about. If he was unable to gain his own freedom, finding him in this valley would be difficult.
Kate jumped when Father Pacheco tapped her shoulder. She scowled at him, then noticed Jed standing a few feet back inside the mouth of the passage. His eyes squinted against the valley’s brightness.
“Where would they keep Adalina?” Kate asked Jed.
“The main house. My dad has a ritual for his new wives.”
Kate noticed Jed’s voice was stronger, his breathing less ragged. But a flat, almost tinny, sound betrayed his continued trouble breathing.
“What kind of ritual?”
“The new girls are always kept in a room next to his. My mom is the only wife allowed to see them before the ceremony. Then—” Jed stopped short with a cough. After a few seconds he continued. “After the ceremony, my father introduces her to the family. The children first. And then the other wives.”