Deadman's Lament (The Deadman Series Book 1)

by Linell Jeppsen

  “Yes, suh. I’ll keep an eye out,” Tulu mumbled.

  Mattie gazed out into the darkness surrounding them and shivered. Randall and his pervert cousin were bad enough. Now every shrub, tree and boulder took on the look of fighting braves with tomahawks, spears and feathered bows and arrows…every one of them intent on the murder of two lost children.

  “Alright. We’ll be back in a few hours and, Parker, no fire tonight!”

  With those words, the two outlaws rode off toward town. After the sound of the horse’s hooves faded into the distance, Parker said, “Okay, you two. Get down from that wagon. You can do your necessaries and stretch your legs a bit. Then I got some cold beans for dinner.” He paused. “But like the boss said, don’t go runnin’ off. Randall wasn’t lying, ya know. The Indians around these parts would love nothin’ better than to take you kids for trade. Once they got you, you’re gone fer good.”

  “I’ll watch ’em, Parker,” Tulu said, stepping down off his horse.

  Mattie couldn’t help but be glad. A coyote started yipping and its pack mates took up the cry. It sounded as if the animals were just a few feet away from the wagon and he couldn’t help but wonder if those critters might be so bold as to gang up and attack one of them for dinner.

  “Those dogs are a long ways off,” Tulu said as if Mattie had spoken out loud. Though, looking up at the tall man, the boy thought his guard sounded scared, too.

  All three of them took care of business and then walked back to the wagon where Parker had set three plates on the backboard. Cold beans, biscuits and jerky…the same meal as the last three they had eaten.

  Mattie and Marie sat on the ground close to Parker; Tulu walked into the shadows and stood close to his horse. Mattie saw that he was feeding bits of biscuit to his mount while staring suspiciously out at the shadowy landscape.

  Parker lit a lantern and turned the wick down low. Pulling a blanket up over his shoulders, he brought the lantern close to his crossed legs so what little light there was cast eerie shadows on the old man’s face and fuzzy white braid. Looking up, he studied the children and asked, “How you kids holdin’ up?”

  Marie just blinked in silence but Mattie, who sensed that the old man was an ally, said, “We’re okay, sir.”

  Parker bent over his tin plate and scooped the beans in his mouth with dogged determination as if this might be his last meal. For all Mattie knew, with what was happening, it might well be.

  The old man scooped up the rest of his meal, then whispered, “You two just be good and hold on tight, ya hear?” Glancing back at Tulu, he added, “I happen to know that the boss is about ready to retire. He just needs one more big pay day to do it, see?”

  He stared at Marie for a moment, the burnt scar tissue on his face writhing like snakes in the lantern’s fitful glow.

  “I, fer one, am sorry ‘bout what happened to yer folks, girl. Top Hat…” Parker curled his lips and spat. “He had no call to shoot yer ma in front of you the way he done.”

  Marie’s eyes filled with tears as bright as sapphires and Mattie took her hand in his. Glaring up at Parker, he said, “Randall Penny is nothing but a thief and a murderer!”

  Parker gazed at Mattie thoughtfully and nodded. “I guess you’re right about that, son. But he wasn’t always like that. Sometimes life takes a strange road and turns a man into something…bad. Just remember this, though, before you get up on yer high horse. Dupre shot first. If’n he woulda just handed over what he had without gun play, then he might still be alive today and this girl would be safe at home in her mother’s arms.”

  “He didn’t have anything! The payroll hadn’t come in yet!” Mattie insisted.

  “Well, maybe you shoulda spoke up then and told the boss what you knew!”

  Parker was angry now and Mattie didn’t want to lose the one friend he had amongst this band of thieves. He looked down and whispered, “I’m sorry, sir, you’re right. I should have said something.”

  Parker gazed into the lantern light for a moment and sighed. “No, you’re right. Nothin’ you said woulda changed what happened, son. In fact, Top Hat prob’ly would have shot you for sheer meanness. It’s Top Hat what changed Randall Penny from a legitimate businessman into what he is now.”

  Tulu suddenly appeared out of the shadows. “Horses coming this way, Parker…and fast!”

  Looking alarmed, Parker said, “You kids scramble now. Hurry!”

  Taking Marie’s hand, Mattie jumped into the wagon, pulling her in with him. Then he stared out into the dark and heard the sound of horses approaching at a full gallop. Parker and Tulu stood in rigid attention with rifles at the ready.

  Mattie was shaking with fear; he couldn’t stand being unable to see who was coming. It could be Randall and Top Hat or another group of outlaws, or even Indians!

  “That’s Top Hat, Parker, but it looks like he’s leading the boss’s horse. Get ready to move, quick!” Tulu mounted his horse and trotted toward the approaching riders.

  Mattie strained his eyes and, sure enough, he saw Top Hat’s showy Appaloosa gelding come to a skidding stop in front of them. Penny’s mare was blowing and crow-hopping as Tulu attempted to catch her reins with one hand and help Randall out of his saddle with the other.

  Randall groaned as he slid into Tulu’s arms. The big man lowered his boss to the ground and Mattie saw that the front of his shirt was wet and shiny with what could only be blood. Parker, who had led the panicked horse away, rushed back with the lantern and gasped when he saw Penny’s injury.

  “Knife wound…what the hell happened?” Parker demanded.

  Top Hat was busily tying the mare to the back of the wagon with a long lead rope. She was covered in blood and shuddered, tossing her head with nerves but he was having none of it. Hauling back a fist, he punched the animal hard on the muzzle. She subsided at once, hanging her head in defeat.

  Top Hat turned to Parker and growled, “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to tell it. We got to get outta here so you need to get Randall in back of this wagon. We’re leaving now!”

  Tulu lifted Penny up in his arms while Mattie cleared some of the buffalo hides to one side to make room for the old man’s body. No sooner had Tulu and Mattie placed Randall in the wagon, Parker yelled, “Hah!”

  The horses lunged against the traces and Mattie saw Tulu run back to mount his gelding. As the wagon and two riders rode swiftly uphill toward the lower slopes of the Cascade Mountains, the boy and girl used rags to staunch the blood seeping slowly but steadily out of the old outlaw’s chest.

  It was just past midnight on Mattie’s thirteenth birthday.

  Redbird rode his pony slowly, following the hoof prints and blood trail of the men who had tortured and killed his brother the night before.

  He and his little brother, Moses Sky Dreamer, were chosen to go to the white man’s settlement this month for supplies. Redbird hated going to town and resented the looks of scorn and hatred that greeted their every move. They were treated as if they were beneath contempt although, in his mind, it was the whites in their dirty, stinking aprons and foul breath who were shameful.

  Still, every brave in his small village was tasked with the chore and Redbird would not have it whispered that he shirked his duties.

  Things had gone well enough until it was time to go into one of the three saloons to buy a half case of whiskey for the tribal elders and their medicine man. The brothers picked the drinking establishment closest to the stockyard, both for the fact that their ponies were close by and the owner of the bar seemed like a kindly man who showed some respect for the Nez Perce traders on their monthly excursions.

  Redbird always allowed himself one small glass of the firewater before he left to go back home and last night was no exception. He had sent Moses Sky Dreamer out to fetch the ponies and stood sipping the amber liquid, relishing the burnt taste and wishing he had not promised his sibling a taste.

  He waited, frowning angrily. That boy was indeed a dreamer! He s
hould have been back by now but was probably staring up at the sky, as usual, and lost track of time. As punishment, Redbird finished his drink in one gulp, picked up the box of whiskey and walked out the open, canvas door of the big tent.

  Looking up and down the dirt lane, the Indian saw no sign of his brother or their ponies. Sighing with disgust, he shouldered the wooden crate of bottles and trudged up the street toward the stables.

  Then he heard a sound, a muffled cry of pain. Fearing the worst, he set the box on the ground. Creeping toward the wide, wooden rails of the stable gates, he saw something almost unbelievable.

  A tall, skinny white man had his little brother bent over at the waist, a long bowie knife pressed against his neck. This was bad enough but what made him shiver in disgust and rage was that the man was obviously taking his brother from behind like a dog with its bitch. Unbidden, Redbird screamed a war cry and ran towards them.

  Just then, another white man—having apparently heard the Indian war whoop—rushed around the back of one of the stalls and cried, “What in tarna…” Randall’s eyes took in what his cousin was doing.

  “My God, Kevin! I knew you was getting worse but this…this is…” Penny was at a loss for words. “Let the boy go, cousin,” Randall finished, eyeing the older Indian who stood framed in the lantern light close by the front door.

  Kevin Walker—better known as Top Hat for the greasy old hat he always wore—grinned and said, “If’n that Injun makes one move, I’ll slit this one’s throat from stem to root!”

  Randall lifted his rifle, pointing it at his cousin. “Are you outta your mind? Do you really think that these two are on their own? Look at those ponies, Kevin!” Randall was white-eyed with fear. “They’re on a supply run, don’t you see? Their tribe is prob’ly only miles away!”

  Redbird understood only one word in ten of the older man’s speech but he brandished his knife, hoping against hope that the skinny one would let his little brother go.

  But Top Hat just smiled and ran his knife across Moses’ throat. The youngster’s eyes grew wide and he collapsed to the ground in a puddle of blood. Letting out a war cry of his own, Kevin sprang backwards even as Randall rushed in to help the young brave.

  In that same instant, Redbird let his throwing knife loose and it sank hilt deep into the older man’s chest. Looking around, the Indian saw that the skinny man with big, bucked teeth like a beaver’s was hidden out of sight.

  He stared down at his brother—who stared sightlessly back—and at the older man who was trying to staunch the blood that ran out of his chest in sheets. Knowing he had to get away before the white men in town hanged him for his crimes and fearing for his tribe’s safety, Redbird cut the supplies from his pony and galloped out of town.

  Now—as the Indian walked around a trampled area noting wheel tracks, hoof prints and footprints—Redbird swore vengeance upon the men who had murdered his brother.

  Chapter 8

  Cold to the Bone

  Many hours later as the sky turned a murky gray, Mattie pressed another rag to Randall’s chest and he rolled his eyes, panting against the agony. Shortly after the group made its mad dash up into the foothills, rain had begun to fall. Softly at first, it now poured in soaking torrents, causing the rolled up buffalo hides to cast a stench in the air that mingled with the urine and feces in Penny’s pants as he wrestled with death.

  “What Maman said was true,” Marie whispered fearfully as she held her skirt over Randall’s head to keep the rain out of his eyes. “She said she saw L’Ange de Mort sitting on this man’s shoulder.” Mattie looked up into his friend’s eyes and saw her shiver with superstitious dread.

  He nodded, not knowing what to say except, “Do you have a dry cloth left? This rag is soaked.”

  Marie bent over and ripped another piece of her skirt away. It was none too clean but it wasn’t like there were many options at this point. Randall seemed calmer suddenly and he gazed up at Mattie with a tranquil expression.

  Alarmed, Mattie hollered, “Mr. Parker, sir! We need to stop! It’s Mr. Penny…I think he’s getting worse!”

  Tulu reined his horse in and Mattie heard Parker shout, “Whoa, whoa…” The wagon came to a stop. Parker turned around on the driver’s seat as Tulu got off his horse and prepared to jump in back. Just then, Penny’s hand came up and grabbed Mattie’s arm.

  “Boy! You gotta listen up,” he gasped.

  Mattie took the man’s hand and whispered, “I am listening, sir.”

  Penny nodded and swallowed. “Top Hat…my cousin, Kevin, he…” Suddenly, the man’s body trembled violently and went rigid. He bucked and shivered, his eyes rolling in his head like a loco horse. Even as Mattie and Tulu tried to still the man’s tremors, the boy saw Penny’s face turn as white as a sheet in the early morning light.

  He quieted then and his eyes were lucid as he stared up into the falling rain. “Top Hat raped and killed an Indian boy. The tribe…” He coughed and blood spilled over his lips. “They’ll be coming after us fer sure…”

  Then he was gone. Mattie stared down at the man’s face as his spirit fled while Tulu met Parker’s eyes in grave understanding. Marie crawled back to her place behind Parker and covered her head with one of the buffalo pelts. Then they all heard hoof beats as Top Hat trotted back to the wagon.

  “What the hell is going on here, Parker?” Top Hat stared at the old man who gazed back at him with a sullen expression in his one wrinkled eye then walked his horse around to the side of the wagon and peered in at his dead cousin. “Well, hell,” he muttered, spitting on the ground in disgust.

  Mattie stared at Top Hat in shock. There did not seem to be one ounce of remorse in the man’s eyes or grief over Randall’s passing.

  Tulu, on the other hand, wept openly and mumbled, “The boss…he save me. Gave me a job and money so I be a free man.” Lowering his big head, he sobbed into his hands.

  Top Hat sneered, rolling his eyes. Turning to Parker, he said, “We gotta keep going. It’s a shame what happened but, if’n we don’t find shelter and soon, we’ll all be dead jes’ like my cousin here.”

  Parker glared and his face turned an alarming shade of red. “And why is that, Top Hat?” he asked. “How is it that a simple trip to town turned so hazardous, huh?”

  Mattie stared back and forth between the two men, biting his lip in fear. It was a valid question but Mattie knew that Parker was playing with fire. Top Hat had been riding point when Randall spilled the beans so he couldn’t know that the rest of the party was aware of his actions. But if Parker didn’t let up soon, he would tip his hand and Mattie had no doubt Top Hat would silence every single one of them if that happened.

  Daring to speak out loud, Mattie said, “I’m with Mr. Top Hat, sir. We should get going!”

  Parker studied Mattie’s face for a second, then faced front again with a grimace of rage. Slapping the reins on the horse’s rumps, he cried, “Giddap!”

  The wagon jerked forward. Mattie saw Tulu standing in the rain by his horse, as if undecided whether or not to accompany them. But just as the scanty road veered left around a corner, Mattie saw the big man jump on his horse and follow.

  He pulled one of the hides across Penny’s body and over his dead, staring eyes. Shivering, he wondered what would happen next since it seemed as though the evil Top Hat was now in charge.

  They pulled into a clearing about five hours later. The rain had stopped for the moment and a chill breeze whipped the forest’s treetops and whistled a strange, mournful tune as if ghosts were dancing and singing in the needled branches.

  Marie had woken up and scooted to the side of the wagon, looking out at an old, abandoned cabin. Nestled in the pine trees it looked like a dirty, lonesome sort of place but they needed to rest the animals. In addition, Mattie spied the stones of an old chimney. Perhaps they could all get warm and dry before night fell.

  He felt cold droplets kiss his cheeks. Looking up, Mattie saw that the rain had turned to snow. A dark pal
l was rising in the sky to the west and he realized that this ramshackle cabin might keep them all from freezing to death out in the open.

  “Matthew, grab a few of those skins and haul ‘em inside.” Parker had climbed off the wagon seat and was unbuckling the horses from their traces. “Girl, you head on in and try to get a fire started. I see some branches and pinecones by the front door…hurry!”

  Marie nodded and ran toward the cabin. Top Hat sat his horse looking back at the winding trail from whence they came; he took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. Turning around, he walked his horse toward the wagon and then pulled up short, staring back down the trail.

  He hollered over the wind, “Tulu, I’m gonna shoot us a couple of rabbits for dinner. You watch out fer those young’uns. I’ll be back soon.”

  Mattie hauled four hides into the cabin and then scrimmaged around the bottom of the woodpile for dry twigs and pinecones for the fire. Snow was falling steadily now, small dry pellets of ice that painted the ground white. The temperature was falling as well and Mattie shivered in relief. This wayside cabin was a godsend.

  Parker stepped up on the porch with his arms full of tack and leather bundles of supplies. Mattie saw that Tulu had sheltered the mules and horses close to the cabin away from the wind and driving snow. Two rain barrels sat under the eaves and the animals dipped their noses in deep for long draughts of water.

  “”Come on, kid, afore yer freeze yer ass off!” Parker shouted.

  Mattie stepped in the door, Tulu close behind. They spent some time getting situated; helping Marie with the fire, giving Parker a hand with the coffee pot and victuals, spreading the hides across the floor close by the stove.

  Finally, after shedding their wet clothes and sipping strong, black coffee to get warm, Parker spoke. “Reckon he skedaddled?”

  Tulu nodded, staring into the flames of the potbelly stove. “Reckon so.”