Beyond the top of the hill, Goose Creek doubled back into the sheltered alcove of a small valley. The main trail stayed in the larger valley. In the shelter between the two ridges, someone had built a small ranch with a slanted-roof barn and a cabin. A garden had been planted beyond the cabin, and behind the farm was a large grove of trees, so thick that Jimmy could barely see down through them. It looked like a wonderful oasis in the vast desert and rough lands of the Wyoming Territory
The house was starting to burn, black smoke billowing up into the clear morning sky. The crackling of the flames was getting louder as more and more of the house caught fire. Sparks flew into the air before vanishing.
And there were three bodies scattered around the burning building.
Jimmy was stunned and sick to his stomach at what he saw. Clearly the family that had lived in the house had been shot down.
Four horses were tied up near the barn right below them, and the sounds of men talking came from the barn.
Jimmy looked at the horses. He knew one of them.
Benson!
The man who had killed Jimmy’ parents had now killed another family.
PART EIGHTEEN
BENSON STRIKES AGAIN
JIMMY KEPT HAVING TROUBLE breathing as he stared at the scene below them. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths and try to think.
He had to do something.
Beside him, on their stomachs as well, Long, Zach, and Josh just stared.
Josh kept making long swallowing motions, like he was trying to hold his breakfast down. Jimmy had no doubt Josh was taking in every detail. He seemed to have a real skill for seeing things that others didn’t, and then putting those details in his stories. This wasn’t going to make good campfire reading, that was for sure.
Four men came out of the barn, laughing, leading two horses.
Benson.
All Jimmy could do was stare at the man who had killed his parents.
Something had to be done.
But any movement that they made down the hill at the men would just get them all killed as well.
Zach muttered something Jimmy couldn’t hear and then pulled the rifle to his shoulder. He took aim, then lowered his rifle, stared at the scene below, then took aim again at the four men.
Jimmy reached over and put a hand on the gun.
When Zach glanced at him, Jimmy shook his head. It wasn’t the time, and even though Zach was a good enough shot that he might get one or two of the killers, the other two would kill all the rest of them. That wasn’t the way to do it. They had to come up with something else.
Zach looked like he was going to object, then finally nodded and lowered the rifle, his face white, his breath coming in gasps.
Jimmy forced himself to turn back and stare at the homestead and death below them, trying to see anything that was possible to do.
“Ideas?” he whispered to the others.
All three shook their heads.
Jimmy studied the trees behind the house. They would allow someone to get close, but then what?
Those men deserved to be hanged.
The thought echoed through his mind and Jimmy knew what they had to try to do. One at a time, they needed to pick off these men, separate them, bring them to justice. Even though he had promised his brother he wouldn’t do anything until they were together, he couldn’t wait any longer. Too many people were getting killed.
He turned to Josh. “The rope on my saddle, and Truitt’s rope. Run and get both of them as quickly as you can. And bring all the horses and the other two up here right behind us. The sounds from the fire should cover the noise.”
Long nodded in agreement.
Josh looked puzzled, then without a word scampered away.
Zach whispered to Jimmy. “What are you thinking?”
“We have to stop those men before more people get killed,” Jimmy said, his voice barely in control. In all his life, he couldn’t remember being this angry. “And the only way we’re going to stop them is one at a time.”
He quickly outlined his plan to Zach and Long.
Long and C.J. were the best two riders, so they would be the decoys. And C.J. had his special rock sling that might come in handy as well while he rode. It would be up to Jimmy and Truitt, with Zach standing guard with the rifle, to make the plan work.
Jimmy turned to Zach after he nodded agreement to the plan. “If you have to, can you really shoot a man?”
“I don’t honestly know.” Zach said, glancing down at the four men where they stood talking near the bodies of the family they had slaughtered. “But if I can’t, I can at least give you cover.”
Jimmy nodded. “Good enough. But it’s going to be better to not fire a shot. The idea is to not let these men know what happened to one of them.”
Zach nodded and went back to squeezing the stock of the rifle in nervousness.
Jimmy had no doubt they were way in over their heads with this plan. They were six basically green men taking on four deadly killers in the middle of the wilderness, with no chance of any help. More than likely, this was going to turn out badly.
But they had to try.
Jimmy just couldn’t let more people be killed.
Zach and Jimmy went back over the hill to talk with the rest, leaving Long to stand guard.
“We have to move fast,” Jimmy said after explaining the plan. “We will meet three miles off the trail in the trees just after dusk tonight, where we camped last night. Make sure none of the killers are following you.”
Everyone nodded. Jimmy could tell they were all as afraid as he was, but all were willing to risk this.
Jimmy and Truitt each took a coil of rope. Jimmy put his over his shoulder so he could drop it quickly if he had to run. Then heading along the top of the hill, he and Truitt worked their way over and down into the trees behind the homestead.
Jimmy could see that Zach took up a position behind a rock on the hillside where he could see both Jimmy and Truitt. He was such a good shot that from there he could easily knock a man off his horse if he needed to.
And if he could.
Jimmy just hoped he wouldn’t have to.
Silently, Jimmy moved from tree to tree through the grove along the stream, until he found a good tree beside an animal trail, then quickly went up it with one end of the rope. He hadn’t climbed a tree in years, but it was a skill he hadn’t forgotten.
About ten feet up, he settled into the crook of a branch, then quickly got his end of the rope around the tree trunk. Then he made sure he was braced and the rope was in place.
Truitt, on the other end of the rope in the tree on the other side of the trail, nodded that he was ready. They had the rope up high enough that anyone riding under it wouldn’t notice it.
Jimmy gave Zach up on the hill the ready sign, and Zach turned and gave it to Josh.
Jimmy knew that if this didn’t work, they might be trapped in these trees, and if that happened, he and Truitt would soon be dead.
Through the trees, Jimmy could see the killers getting ready to mount up.
Less than ten seconds later, with a blood-curdling war cry, Long and C.J. came riding around the edge of the ridge, their heads down, their horses going at full speed. Long had untied his hair and it flew out behind him like a cape.
And C.J. had wrapped himself in one of Long’s Indian blankets and put some dirt on his face to make himself look more Indian, even with his glasses. To the four killers, it must have looked like Long and C.J. just appeared out of thin air not more than fifty paces away.
C.J. lifted up in his saddle only long enough to twirl his rock sling and hit one man solidly in the side with a rock.
The guy swore as he went to the ground, trying to get his gun out of his holster.
C.J. and Long rode past the killers on the other side of the burning homestead and headed into the trees behind the house where Jimmy and Truitt waited.
Benson had his gun out the quickest and fired, but the
shot missed both C.J. and Long as they pushed into the trees and flashed right under Johnny and Truitt and the rope they held between them.
All four killers quickly mounted up and rode after Long and C.J., just as Jimmy knew they would. They didn’t dare let any witness, even Indians, live to tell what they had done to that poor family.
C.J. and Long, once they got out of the trees down the stream, would split up and circle out over the hills to the north. Jimmy had no doubt that they could get away. They were both fantastic riders and had fast horses. Jimmy was far more worried about what he and Truitt were about to try. If they missed, one or both of them would be more than likely dead.
The man that C.J. had hit with his sling was a little slower mounting up than the other three and was trailing the other killers by a good twenty paces.
Benson and two of his men flashed past under Jimmy, the sounds of their swearing and horses’ hoofs covering the sounds of the house burning.
Both Jimmy and Truitt timed the rope drop perfectly as the fourth man rode under them. The idea was to knock him off his horse, tie him up, and take him away before the other three got back.
The rope caught the man squarely across the upper chest. Perfect!
Jimmy had braced himself in the tree and had the rope wound around the trunk once, but the impact of a man being pulled off a horse at full run yanked Jimmy shoulder-first into the trunk. The rope burned in his hands as he fought to hold on.
Somehow, he did.
The killer swung up high in the air as the horse kept going, then dropped back.
The killer did a half turn in mid-air and landed on his head and shoulders on the trail.
There was a loud crack that echoed through the trees as the man hit.
Jimmy dropped the rope and climbed quickly out of the tree. His hands were shaking so badly, he could barely hang onto anything. Truitt’s face looked white and his eyes were wide as they both scrambled to tie up the killer.
But by the time they had his hands tied, it was clear to Jimmy that they didn’t need to do more. Jimmy dropped the rope and backed away like he was backing away from a snake.
Truitt did the same, muttering softly, “We weren’t supposed to kill him.”
“Get moving!” Zach shouted softly from up the hill.
“Let’s go,” Jimmy said, glancing up at Zach. “They might be back at any moment.”
“What are we going to do?” Truitt asked, a sound of panic in his voice.
“Hide him, just like we planned,” Jimmy said. He felt like he was about to be sick, but they couldn’t stop now. They had to stay on the plan, even though the killer was dead.
Truitt nodded, took a deep breath, and seemed to come back into his eyes.
Jimmy quickly slipped the rope under the killer’s arms, then at full run they dragged the man’s body away from the trail and the burning building, deeper into the trees, using the rope around his chest to pull him like a sled. Near a rock ledge and the edge of the thick forest, they dropped the killer’s body into a depression beside a tree, then frantically tossed some branches and dead grass over him.
Jimmy walked ten steps away and looked back. He couldn’t see the body at all.
Truitt was still standing over the body staring at the killer.
Jimmy moved back over to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. Truitt clearly had no problems taking things, or playing tricks on people, but he had never been near death.
“It was an accident,” Jimmy said, trying to convince himself as much as Truitt. “Let’s go.”
Truitt nodded, took a deep breath, and turned. “I’ll get his horse.” He ran back toward the trees where the man’s horse had stopped and was grazing.
With one last look at where they had hidden the killer’s body, Jimmy headed back through the trees. He grabbed the two horses that Benson had planned on taking from the homestead. Benson wouldn’t get them. Not this time.
Jimmy glanced around at the dead family. Right now, he couldn’t do anything for them. They would come back after the other killers had gone.
As fast as he could, Jimmy climbed back up the hill, pulling the two horses behind him.
A few moments later, Zach and Truitt joined him with Josh and their horses. There were four of them and they now had seven horses.
“The fall killed him?” Josh asked, his face white, his hands twisting the notebook.
Jimmy nodded. “Broke his neck.”
He was having a lot of problems with the fact that they had killed someone. But right now, he couldn’t think about it. He had to get himself and his friends out of there and to safety.
“Let’s get riding.”
“Yeah, I’d like to be a long ways from here when Benson gets back,” Zach said, putting the rifle in his saddle and mounting up quickly.
C.J. and Long were riding at full speed north. Jimmy, Truitt, Zach, and Josh, with the extra horses, would ride at the same speed south, then wait until almost dusk to circle around back to where they had camped last night.
With luck, they would all be there.
Continued next month…
WONDERING THROUGH TIME
I stop and wonder,
like an old man bent over a bowl of soup
in the basement of a church mission
studying his spoon like it was a mirror to his life.
I stop and wonder,
like a farmer studying the damage from a hail storm
on the crop that was supposed to pay his mortgage,
buy seed for next year, and milk for his children.
I stop and wonder,
staring at the days on my calendar,
days that I didn’t write,
days that nothing was produced.
I stop and wonder
and try to remember just what the hell I did
that was so important
during all the days I didn’t write.
Back in 2009, I got one of those letters you can only dream about as a writer. Robert E. Vardeman and Joan Spicci Saberhagen were editing a book of original stories based on a book by Joan’s late husband, Fred Saberhagen. Fred was a great guy, and a great writer and his early death was a shock to us all.
And I was always a major fan of his work, so getting a chance to write in one of his worlds just had me jumping up and down. Then Bob told me what book of Fred’s they wanted to extend new stories from and I got even more excited.
Fred had written a book called Mask of the Sun, a short novel that was a stunner in world-building and storytelling. In essence, Fred came up with a world where the Spanish were defeated by the Incas and the Aztecs and now they were world powers, filling all of Central America and South America. And they were at war, of course.
A war that stretched through time and alternate realities.
If you have not read Mask of the Sun, you can find it along with this story and others in a book called Golden Reflections. Trust me, it will be worth your time to find and read. Plus in Golden Reflections, which came out in 2010, you can find the full novel, plus this story, plus six others, including stories by Harry Turtledove, David Weber, Walter John Williams and others.
All set in the world of Mask of the Sun.
This story came about because in the Mask of the Sun novel, I noticed that Fred had one paragraph where a character (shifted to this alternate universe) was happy to see that the United States was still in existence. I instantly thought, “Wow, that means they fought at the Alamo against the Aztecs. How cool!”
And thus the following story.
I wanted to bring this story back here because I love this story and am proud of it and not many people ever saw it, and I loved Fred Saberhagen’s work and wanted to point Fred’s work out to fans in this new world.
REMEMBER
Based with permission on the Fred Saberhagen novel, Mask of the Sun
ONE
February 23, 1836
Bexar, Republic of Texas
“INCOMING!” a
voice shouted from behind Dennis Holcomb as the muzzle flash from the Aztec cannon cut through the darkness, followed a moment later by the explosion of sound echoing over the mission. The cannon sat on a small rise built in the center of Bexar, one of two in that location.
Around him other men ducked for cover behind the two-foot-thick west wall of the Alamo, spread out on the roofs of the officer’s quarters. Holcomb held his position on the wall, his night glasses allowing him to see clearly the three Aztec warriors already starting to reload the cannon.
Behind them stood another Aztec warrior wearing a thin headdress and a wide robe. From what Holcomb had learned over the last week of studying the Aztec society, the warrior looked to be a member of the Arrow clan. That meant he was in charge of the other warriors working the cannons.
The Aztec had less than a second to live. He just didn’t know it. Holcomb already had the wind figured, had the distance figured to exactly 865 feet. He was ready, had his target in his sights.
As the shell exploded at the base of the wall of the Alamo mission twenty feet down to the left from his position, he fired under the covering sound, knocking the Aztec leader off the mound.
Holcomb then moved quickly, still covered by the echoing thunder of the cannon shot impact. He moved the gun sight to the second mound with another Aztec cannon twenty yards to the right of the first one. He picked the Arrow clan warrior clearly in charge standing behind the three working on the cannon, and shot, knocking him over backwards before his men even had a chance to fire that cannon.
No other person behind the Alamo wall heard his shots because of the explosion of the shell and the silence technology on the gun.
Beside him Berg DeWitt patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Nice shooting.”
“Old skills come back quick,” Holcomb said. “Two down, four or five thousand more Aztecs to go.”
“Yeah, going to be nothing to it,” DeWitt laughed, staring through night-scope binoculars at the cannons. “Just like Nam.”
Smith's Monthly #6 Page 4