The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6

by Darrell Maloney

  “After that, you can make your choice. You can ride into town tonight and I’ll wait until morning. Or I can go tonight and you can wait.

  “Your choice. Don’t make much difference to me either way.”

  -40-

  Tom and Sara opted to wait until the next day to ride into Castroville.

  It was mid-morning on an unseasonably hot day when they rode past the city limit sign.

  They could see no signs of trouble. There were people milling about, speaking amiably to each other. Children, no longer burdened by having to go to school or to watch out for cars, played football and Frisbee in the streets.

  Several people waved or nodded as the pair rode by.

  Sara said, “Maybe Randy got some bad information. Maybe Castroville’s not as bad as he believed it was.”

  “Maybe. But let’s not let our guard down just yet.”

  They rode past several storefronts, Sara scanning every face in the hopes that one of them would be her mom.

  Tom had an idea.

  “Hey, did your mom drink?”

  “I’m sure she was drunk on the night I was conceived. Why?”

  “I’m talking about more recently, goofball.”

  “Yes. She liked Jack Daniels and Coke. Why?”

  “In my experience, one of the best ways to find someone is to ask in a local bar. Are you thirsty?”

  “Sure. I can use some cold water.”

  “I’m sure they have water. I’m not sure they have the cold.”

  They pulled up to a place called The Horned Toad Tavern and tied their horses to a bicycle rack out front.

  Heads turned as they walked into the place. Someone in the back saw Sara and let out an appreciative whistle.

  She ignored it.

  The two walked directly to the bar and asked the price for two bottles of water.

  The bartender seemed friendly enough, but felt the need to set the terms up front.

  “One gram of gold or two grams of silver. We don’t take nothin’ else.”

  Then he added, “Payable in advance.”

  Tom was in the mood to haggle.

  “Sounds kind of steep.”

  “Maybe. But these bottles are still sealed. Not no rain water like you get in other places around here.”

  Tom pulled a 1958 dime from the pocket of his jeans and laid it on the bar.

  The barkeep picked it up with one hand and reached under the bar with the other. He produced two twenty ounce bottles of Dasani and placed them in front of Tom.

  Sara watched, fascinated, as the man retrieved a small black scale about the size of a deck of playing cards. Then he took out a pair of pliers and a pair of metal snips.

  He held the dime with the pliers and used the snips to cut off a large piece of the coin.

  Then he put the piece on the scale and checked the weight. It was still a bit light.

  He snipped off a second piece, not much bigger than the head of a pin, then dropped it on the scale with the first piece.

  Satisfied, he turned the scale toward Tom so Tom could see the reading: 1.967 grams.

  Tom said nothing, but nodded.

  The deal was done. The bartender took the pieces off the scale and shoved them into a small cloth bag, which he then put beneath the bar.

  He returned the rest of the coin to Tom.

  “You know, mister, for another two grams you can get a shot of whisky.”

  “Maybe later. But tell me, where did you get the batteries to power your scale?”

  “From Tony Gomez. He figured out a way to keep some batteries from getting ruined when the power went out. He sells them for a hefty price. He’s got other stuff to sell too. Walkie talkies, binoculars and stuff. I can put you in touch with him for a slight fee.”

  “No, that’s okay. I was just wonderin’ is all.”

  “Y’all enjoy your water. Let me know if you want another.”

  -41-

  Tom nursed his water and Sara scanned the bar. She saw Ranger Randy sitting in the corner playing poker with three surly looking men. Their eyes met briefly, but he didn’t acknowledge her and she didn’t linger.

  “Hey, stranger.”

  The words came from a gruff and dirty man who walked up behind Tom and sat on the barstool beside him.

  “That’s a fine looking young hussy you got with you. She for sale or rent?”

  Sara was shocked, and didn’t know whether to pull her sidearm and shoot the man on the spot, or whether to just punch him square in the face.

  Tom, on the other hand, kept his cool.

  He slowly turned toward the man and said, “This girl is my daughter. And if you want to leave this place with the same number of teeth you walked in with, I suggest you leave us in peace.”

  The man swallowed hard.

  “Sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was just…”

  But no more words were necessary. The man turned and walked away.

  Sara smiled and put her hand on Tom’s shoulder.

  “Thank you for not shooting him this time, Daddy. I always hate it when you gun men down in cold blood.”

  Another man, who was approaching from the other direction, heard Sara’s words and decided there was someplace else he’d rather be. He turned and left without saying a word.

  The bartender returned.

  “You two want another round?”

  Tom said, “Maybe. Still thinking about it. While I think, can you give us a hand on another matter? We’re looking for a woman about thirty five or so. Her name is Stacey. Word is that she came to Castroville a few months ago.”

  Sara produced a photo of her mom and placed it on the bar for the man to see.

  “Pretty woman.”

  “Yep.”

  “She looks a little familiar, but I can’t say for sure.”

  He looked around the bar until he spotted a familiar face in the corner.

  “Hey Marty! Come here a minute, will you?”

  An old drunk staggered over.

  He looked at the bartender and asked, “What’s up, Mike?”

  “Look at this picture, will ya, Marty? Is this the woman that Jack Payton brings in here sometimes?”

  Sara offered, “Her name is Stacey.”

  The drunk howled in what sounded very much like the cackle of an old witch.

  “I don’t know nothin’ about no Stacey. If that’s the woman what belongs to Jack Payton, her name is bitch.”

  He changed his voice slightly in an obvious imitation of what he thought Payton sounded like.

  “Sit down, bitch. Go get me another whisky, bitch. Stop looking at him, bitch. Time to go, bitch.”

  The drunk cackled again, obviously proud of himself for what he thought was a spot-on rendering of the man he knew as Payton.

  Sara wanted to punch the fool but thought better of it.

  Tom, in his slow Texas drawl, observed “Nah. That can’t be the woman we’re looking for. Stacey don’t take that kind of smack from anybody. She’d have kicked this Payton guy’s ass.”

  The drunk cackled again.

  “That’ll be the day, when some dame kicks Jack Payton’s ass.”

  Then he stumbled away, walking into a chair and almost tumbling to the floor.

  Once the drunk was out of view, Tom lowered his voice a bit and leaned closer to the bartender.

  “What can you tell us about Jack Payton?”

  As he asked the question, Tom slid a silver dollar across the bar. The bartender placed his hand over the coin and looked furtively around.

  His voice was little more than a whisper.

  “He’s a bad dude. Lives at the Lazy R Ranch about four miles east of here. He don’t own it. He just rode in there one day with three or four hired guns and killed the owners. Shot the whole family dead, including the three little kids. Now he lives there and barters off the livestock, one animal at a time.”

  Sara asked, “Barters them for what?”

  “Whatever he wants. Food, precious
metals. Drugs. Women. Anything he wants. People will trade damn near anything around here for a young steer or a couple of chickens.”

  Tom asked, “Any idea how many men are in his gang?”

  “Don’t know for sure. He’s always got two or three with him when he comes in, and they’re not always the same two or three. My guess is that he’s got a dozen or more. They do his killin’ for him. He don’t carry no gun himself.”

  Tom pondered the information as though it were a tasty meal and he was savoring it for all it was worth.

  The barkeep continued.

  “Mister, if you want my advice, steer clear of Jack Payton and his gang. He’s got a reputation as one of the meanest men in Texas. If you ask me, I think he’s the meanest one in the country.”

  “I wish we could take your advice, young feller. But unfortunately, he appears to have something we’re quite fond of.”

  “If you’re talking about the woman, let me give you some more advice. Don’t tell him what you’re after until you have her back. If he finds out she’s important to you, he might just kill her out of spite.”

  Randy Maloney got up from his poker game, stuffed his winnings into the pocket of his jeans, and headed toward the door. As he passed within ten feet of Sara, she noticed he was no longer wearing his Ranger badge.

  Tom thanked the bartender for the information, and the young man slipped the silver dollar into his pocket.

  No need for the bar’s owner to know anything about it.

  Tom finished his water and said, “I don’t much like this place much after all. Are you ready to go, Sara?”

  “Sure, Daddy.”

  -42-

  “No! Absolutely not.”

  “Sara, you don’t understand. If I go in there alone I can scout the place. Get some intel. Find out for sure how many men they have.

  “Hell, maybe I’ll get lucky and stumble upon Stacey while I’m in there. You can write me a note and I’ll pass it to her if I can do so without being seen. You can tell her to slip away and meet us east of town. She’ll recognize your handwriting.”

  “No, Tom. I know that you’re the sheriff and someday you’ll be my boss. But this isn’t sheriff’s business. This is personal, and you’re here not as a sheriff but as my friend.

  “So someday you may outrank me and have the authority to fire me. But that day’s not here yet. Right here, right now, we’re equals. I have just as much say so as you do. And I am not going to sit here and let you ride out to the Lazy R Ranch and confront that bastard yourself.”

  “You don’t understand, honey. If you go in there with me, they’ll take one look at you and decide to keep you too. And trust me, men like that won’t want to keep you because you’re a great conversationalist. They’ll have other things in mind. If there’s too many of them for us to handle, you could end up a slave just like your mom. And how is that going to help us?”

  “And what are you going to do, Tom? Are you going to just waltz in there and say, ‘Hey, don’t mind me. I’m not here to case the joint, or to find out how many men you have, or to find out where you’re keeping the blonde woman. I’m just passing through and looking around, so don’t mind me at all…’”

  “No. I’m going to go in and say I heard he had livestock to trade. And while I’m trying to negotiate a deal with him I’ll be looking around. And like I said, maybe I’ll get lucky and be able to pass a note to her. If I can, we’ll just camp here for a few days and see if she can get out and come to us.

  “Wouldn’t that make more sense than just going in there with guns blazing? And hoping that you or I or your mom don’t get killed in the process?”

  “And say you never see her? Do you have a Plan B?”

  Tom’s voice took on a slightly more conciliatory tone.

  “Yes. But you won’t like it.”

  “I don’t like any of this, Tom. Not one damn bit of it. So you don’t have anything to lose.”

  “If I don’t see her or can’t pass a note to her, I’ll go ahead and work a deal with him. I’ll trade him what’s left of my silver for a steer or a pig. Then I’ll have his trust, and he’ll know I have the means to pay for his wares.

  “So I’ll go one step further.

  “I’ll tell him that I heard in town he’s got some pretty women up there with him. I’ll tell him I have a hankerin’ for a couple of hours with a pretty woman.

  “I’ll tell him my preference is blondes. Not too young, not too old. Maybe a blonde in her thirties.

  “I’ll hold up a gold coin and tell him that if he has such a blonde, I’d be interested in renting her for an hour or two. I’ll tell him I won’t take her anywhere. I’ll just have fun with her in a barn, or a shed, or wherever we can have some privacy for a bit.

  “I don’t know what the going rate is to rent a woman for a couple of hours in this God-forsaken town, but I’ll bet a gold coin will do it.

  “And as soon as I’m alone with your mom, I’ll calm her down and assure her that I’m not there to abuse her. That I’m there to help. I’ll tell her you’re waiting outside of town for her and hand her your note. That way she’ll know I’m legit.

  “I’ll ask her if she thinks she can sneak away, and will tell her where to find us. And I’ll bring the note back with me so he don’t accidentally find it.

  “And once everything is settled, I’ll walk out of the barn with a big smile on my face and thank Mr. Payton for his business. I’ll tell him I’m looking forward to doing business with him again and then I’ll leave.”

  -43-

  Sara considered the plan.

  “I don’t know, Tom. It may be the only way. But I still don’t like it.”

  Sara and Tom were startled by a voice from the woods.

  “Oh, it’s a heck of a plan, and probably the only one you’ve got.”

  They looked up as Ranger Randy walked out of the darkness and over to them.

  He continued.

  “Pardon me for saying so, friends. But you’ve got a lot to learn about laying low outside an unfriendly town.”

  Sara was happy to see him. She enjoyed his company and the stories he told. But now she was just a bit concerned about the tone of his voice.

  “How so, Randy?”

  “Well, first of all, you’re sitting here next to a campfire adjacent to a highway. There’s no moon tonight and the sky is pitch black. The campfire acts as a beacon and lights you up for a couple of miles in both directions.

  “Any bad man out there who wanted to could take you out with a couple of rifle shots and you’d never know what hit you.

  “Heck, you could be looking in their direction while they shot you, and you’d never see them. The campfire makes everything beyond it look totally black. That’s why I was able to walk up to within twenty yards of you. Close enough to listen to every word you said.

  “And if those bad guys didn’t want to shoot you, they could have done the same thing, heard your plans, and then stole away again into the night.”

  Tom said, “Well now I feel plenty foolish. Thank you for the advice, Randy. I’ll definitely take heed. I’m still trying to get this whole sheriffin’ thing down. Maybe someday I’ll get it down and actually be good at it.”

  Randy was surprised.

  “You’re not a career lawman?”

  Tom laughed.

  “No, I’m a rancher by trade, pretty much retired now. And I’m a cowboy by choice, because Texas runs deep in my blood. But the only reason Kerr County asked me to be their sheriff was because I was the only one foolish enough to accept the job.”

  Sara scolded him.

  “Oh, you hush, Tom Haskins. You’re a fine sheriff and a fine man. No one could do that job any better than you.”

  Randy said, “She’s right, Tom. I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t good at the job. But tracking men and stalking the bad ones is a talent you learn as you go, just like pretty much anything else in life. As time goes on you’ll learn things about this game that
will make things much easier, and much safer for you.

  “But shoot, you’ve come up with a great plan for going in. So apparently you’re a fast learner.”

  Sara asked, “So… back to the campfire thing. How do we make ourselves less visible?”

  “First of all, get away from the highway. That’s how everybody travels these days. And most are on horseback or on foot, so they can sneak up on you.

  “There’s plenty of heavy woods right off the sides of the road. I know it’s a pain, but hike into the woods a quarter of a mile. The trees and brush will hide the campfire from anyone walking or riding down the highway.

  “Also, the fire you built is way too big. In the winter, you need a good sized fire to warm you. But the weather hasn’t turned cold yet. The only thing you need a campfire for this time of year is to cook your meals and boil your coffee. You can do both before sundown. Dig a hole in the ground three or four inches deep, just big enough to set your coffee pot into. Boil a pot just before dark and set it into the hole. The earth will help insulate it and it’ll still be lukewarm come morning light. Then put your fire out before darkness falls.

  “Also, never ever discuss your plans where there’s any chance of someone sneaking up on you and listening in. The best place to discuss your plans is on horseback as you ride, but not while you’re riding in heavy brush.”

  Tom soaked it all in. What Randy was telling him made good sense, and he’d learn from it.

  “Well, you’ve made me a little bit more careful and a bit smarter today, Randy. Thank you for that.”

  “Think nothing of it, Tom. That’s what friends are for. And like I said, hunting bad men isn’t something you’re born knowing how to do. You learn as you go. Heck, I’ve been doing this for years and I still learn new things all the time.”

  Sara was intrigued.

  “Randy, that’s the second time in five minutes you’ve said the word ‘heck.’ Pardon me for saying so, but nobody talks like that anymore.”