by Al Lamanda
Changing a wagon wheel was slow, dirty and hard work for a man. Out on the plains it was brutally slow and that much harder for a woman and a small boy. Once Maura and Seth had the bridge secured under the left side of the wagon, Maura used a massive wrench from the tool box to loosen the lug nut. She needed the mallet to bang the nut lose enough to turn it with the wrench. After the nut was removed it took the combined strength of Maura and Seth to slide the busted wheel free.
Once the axel was covered in fresh grease, Maura and Seth were able to lift the spare seventy five pound wheel onto it and secure the lug nut with the wrench. Then they removed the bridge and wiped their hands on rags from the toolbox.
“We did it,” Seth said.
“Yes we did,” Maura agreed. “Let’s pack up and move on. There’s only a few hours of daylight left.”
As Seth reached for the bridge, he looked off to his left and dropped the bridge. “Ma!” he cried.
“I’ll help you with the bridge,” Maura said.
“No, Ma. Look,” Seth said and pointed to the soft hills in the distance.
Maura came around and stood beside Seth. Coming off the hills, at least three dozen ghouls stumbled and fumbled their way toward her and Seth. They were hideous, frightening to look at and their intentions were on their faces.
“Get in the wagon,” Maura said.
Seth turned to climb into the buckboard. “Ma, look!”
Maura turned. Another two dozen ghouls were coming off the hills to the right. “Get in, Seth,” She said. “Right now.”
Seth and Maura climbed into the buckboard. Maura took hold of the reins and yanked the horses into motion. “Hold on, Seth,” she said and yanked the horses into a full out run.
The flat plains became a gently rolling hill and Maura steered the horses directly up them and as they came down the other side, several dozen ghouls were directly in their path.
“Grab the wagon and don’t let go,” Maura said.
Maura snapped the reins and drove the wagon straight into the path of the ghouls. The ghouls didn’t even try to get out of the way of the massive plow horses who simply trampled all it their way.
Maura didn’t slow the horses for at least a half mile. She stopped the team to give them a few minutes rest. There was a mile to go and she didn’t want them to burn out.
“There’s so many,” Seth said.
“I know,” Maura said.
“What are they?” Seth said. “Are they sick?”
“I don’t know,” Maura said as she grabbed the binoculars off the floor of the buckboard. Standing, she turned and peered through the binoculars.
The ghouls had turned around and were following them.
Why?
What did they want?
“Ma?”
“I don’t know.”
Maura lowered the binoculars.
“Will the soldiers know?”
“Seth, don’t ask anymore questions until we get to the outpost,” Maura said.
Maura sat and cracked the reins. She kept the horses at a modest pace until the Army outpost came into view. She kicked the team into high gear and raced the last hundred yards to the sixteen foot high walls of the small fortress.
Fifty feet away from the fort, Maura yanked hard on the reins and brought the horses to a sudden, powerful stop.
The gates, which opened inward, were wide open and there wasn’t a soldier in sight. Not on the watch towers, the guard station, on patrol.
Anywhere.
Chapter 11
Red Foot knew the fastest way to the Army outpost was to head north for several miles through the heart of the Crow hunting grounds and turn west for about six or seven miles more.
The trail took them through a pass between two steep mountains. The Crow often drove deer, antelope and even stray Buffalo into the pass where they ambushed the prey from the rocks.
It was also a good place to ambush trespassers.
Many an outlaw seeking a place to hide out from the law met his doom inside this pass according to Red Foot.
Lane scanned the rocks as they rode slowly through the quarter mile long pass. Not even a bird rose up from the rocks as they passed in single file. Red Foot, having used the pass many times before, rode point.
As the rode into a bend, a Crow woman leapt down from an attack point on the rocks and landed on Red Foot. They tumbled off his horse to the ground where the Crow woman screamed in her native tongue at Red Foot.
Stunned from the impact, Red Foot shoved the Crow woman off him and as she stood up, he drew his Colt and cocked it.
Lane and the others immediately dismounted and drew their weapons.
The Crow woman stood her ground and screamed at Red Foot.
“Charlie, what is she screaming about?” Lane said.
Red Foot spoke to the woman in Crow. The woman screamed and waved her hands at him, turned and pointed into the bend of the pass.
“She wants us to shoot them,” Red Foot said.
“Shoot who, Charlie?” Lane said. “What’s she babbling about?”
Red Foot told the woman to calm down and speak slowly. She took a breath and slowed down a bit, motioning into the pass as she spoke.
“She say to shoot the men inside the pass,” Red Foot said. “She say they have the walking sickness and they have to be killed.”
“Walking sickness?” Lane said. “What’s that? Ask her to…”
Suddenly, the Crow woman started to shout violently in broken English. “Shoot…them…shoot…them…kill...them…all,” she cried.
“Dismount. Grab your rifles,” Lane said. “Charlie, tell her to lead the way. Tell her if this is an ambush she gets the first bullet right in the back. Tell her.”
Red Foot told the Crow woman and she nodded to him. Cautiously, she stepped deeper into the pass. Red Foot followed close behind her. Lane and the others followed Red Foot. Wide enough to walk double file, they stayed single file behind Red Foot in case of an ambush.
“See anything?” Lane said to Red Foot.
“Not yet.”
The Crow woman stopped after about thirty yards, turned, motioned and whispered to Red Foot.
“What’s she saying?” Lane said.
“Something about right around this corner,” Red Foot said.
Lane did a quick scan of the rocks above them. “Tell her go on,” he said.
The Crow woman led them twenty feet around the corner and stopped. “Shoot…them!” she cried. “Shoot…them!”
Red Foot stopped behind the woman and looked at the dozen or so Crow warriors in the pass. “Lane, take a look at this,” he said.
Lane came up behind Red Foot. Crow warriors lined the pass, facing all directions. They made soft chirping sounds as the stumbled and bumped into each other.
“Charlie, what’s wrong with them?” Lane said.
At the sound of Lane’s voice, the Crow warriors turned to face him. Their faces were greenish in color. There eyes were blood red and empty looking. Slowly they stumbled forward, groaning as they walked.
“Charlie?” Lane said.
“I don’t know, David,” Red Foot said. “I never seen anything like this.”
“Shoot…them!” the Crow woman shouted. “Shoot… them!”
The Crow warriors showed their teeth and snarled loudly. Red Foot cocked the lever of his Winchester and fired a shot directly into the chest of the closest warrior. The heavy .45 round didn’t seem to faze the warrior in the least.
The Crow woman started yelling in Crow and touching her head.
Lane reached past Red Foot, aimed his Winchester and shot the lead Warrior in the chest near Red Foot’s shot. The Warrior ignored the second bullet and lumbered forward, snarling and showing his teeth.
The Crow woman jumped up and down, patting her head, yelling at Red Foot.
“She says to shoot them in the head,” Red Foot said.
Lane cocked his Winchester, aimed and fired a shot into the skull of the lead
Warrior. He dropped like a stone and the others simply stepped over him.
“Poule, Scripture, aim for their head,” Lane said.
Lane, Poule, Scripture and Red Foot opened up with their Winchester’s, putting round after round into the Crow warrior’s skulls. One by one the warriors dropped until none were standing.
“Reload,” Lane said. “Charlie, ask her if there are anymore?”
Pumping fresh rounds into his rifle, Red Foot spoke to the woman in Crow.
“She says she doesn’t know,” Red Foot said. “She doesn’t think so.”
“Charlie, is there another way to the outpost?” Lane said.
“None that would get us there before dark.”
“Our horses ain’t going to step over these bodies,” Lane said.
“Agreed,” Red Foot said. “What about her?”
“We got two extra horses,” Lane said. “Maybe she knows another shortcut.”
Red Foot asked the Crow woman and she rambled on for several minutes as they backtracked to the horses.
“She says she knows another way west to the soldier fort,” Red Foot said. “But you must take her with you.”
“Yeah, yes,” Lane said. “Can you make her shut up? I want to ask her some questions.”
Red Foot spoke to the Crow woman, but if she heard him she ignored him and kept rambling in her Crow language.
“She say the walking sickness came when the rock fell from the sky into the river near their camp,” Red Foot said.
“What rock?” Lane said. “What’s she yakking about?”
“She say the rock fell from the sky and landed in the river,” Red Foot said. “She say many Crow braves went into the river after it, but none could bring it up. She says the walking sickness started soon after and many of her people died.”
“Walking sickness?” Lane said. “Like those braves back there in the pass? Is that what she means?”
Red Foot spoke to the Crow woman and she rambled on for several minutes.
“Okay, Christ, tell her to shut up,” Lane said.
“She says her name is Little Sky,” Red Foot said. “She wants to know if you’re some kind of chief.”
“Never mind that,” Lane said. “Ask her if this is the way to the outpost.”
Red Foot asked Little Sky and she nodded her head.
“This walking sickness, ask her why the bullets don’t hurt them?” Lane said.
Red Sky asked and Little Sky rambled on for another several minutes.
“She says that she doesn’t know,” Red Foot said. “She thinks it’s because they are already dead and still alive somehow from the sickness.”
“Dead and still alive,” Lane said. “She should run for President. Ask her where the Crow went.”
Red Foot spoke to Little Sky and she gestured north with her hands as she answered in Crow.
“She say the Crow went north into the mountains where the sickness can’t follow,” Red Foot said.
“Why didn’t she go with them?” Lane said.
Red Foot asked Little Sky and she spoke softly for the first time.
“She say she didn’t want to leave her husband,” Red Foot said.
“Where is he?” Lane said.
Red Foot asked the question to Little Sky and she became animated again, pointing to Lane.
“She say that you shot him in the head back in the pass,” Red Foot said. “He was first in line. She says that you did him a favor.”
Lane looked at Little Sky. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “Ask her if we can make the outpost by nightfall.”
Red Foot asked Little Sky and she nodded as she spoke.
“She says we can if we don’t ride like a bunch of old women,” Red Foot said.
“You heard the lady, let’s move out,” Lane said.
Chapter 12.
Maura stuffed the pockets of her skirt with shells for the shotgun and bullets for the pistol, then stepped down from the buckboard. She tucked the heavy revolver into the waistband of her skirt.
“Seth, take the reins,” Maura said. “Hold them tight and follow me close. Keep the team under control.”
Seth nodded.
“Ready?” Maura said.
“Yes.”
Slowly, Maura stepped forward and passed through the open gates of the Army outpost. Seth kept the wagon a few feet behind her. Once inside the gates, Maura paused to scan the interior.
The catwalk on the top of the walls, the buildings and offices, blacksmith shop, the entire outpost appeared deserted.
“Stay in the wagon, Seth,” Maura said. “Shout if you see anybody or anything.”
Maura cocked the hammer on the shotgun and walked deeper into the outpost. On her left, the blacksmith’s station was cold and damp. There was a small general store and Maura opened the door and stepped inside. It had been stripped bare of all goods. She cautiously returned to the street and looked back to check on Seth.
He was watching her from the buckboard. They exchanged tiny waves and she moved on to the next building, the outpost’s commanding officer’s office.
Except for a desk, chair and file cabinet, the office was completely empty. Maura checked the drawers on the file cabinet and found not even a scrap of paper.
Returning to the street, the two largest buildings were the mess hall and soldier’s barracks. The mess hall was closest and Maura slowly opened the door and stepped into the dark interior.
Empty.
Quiet.
Not a soul had eaten in here for weeks.
Maura went around the long serving line counter and stood before the closed kitchen door. With the shotgun she gently pushed it inward and took a peek. Clean as a whistle.
Outside, Maura waved to Seth again, then checked the barracks through the windows. Every bed was made and neat as a pin. It was as if she were looking into a giant dollhouse.
Maura was about to open the barracks door when she heard a soft noise behind her. She spun around ready to fire the shotgun, but no one was there to shoot. She cocked an eye toward Seth and he was quietly sitting on the buckboard.
It was probably just the wind, she reasoned.
Except the wind wasn’t blowing hard enough to stir a dried leaf on a tree.
The noise sounded again.
Softly.
Like a tiny bird chirping.
Maura looked directly across the wide street at the brick building that had bars in the window. Outpost Stockade, the sign above the door rad.
Maura started walking across the street to the stockade and paused when she stepped up onto the wood sidewalk.
She heard the noise again and it was coming from inside the stockade building.
The windows had bars on them. She peeked through the bars at the interior. There was a desk, woodstove and not much else. Maybe the chirping was a bird trapped inside? She cautiously opened the door and inched her way in with the shotgun at the ready.
The chirping was louder.
To the left of the desk was a heavy iron door with a slatted square window. The chirping appeared to be coming from behind the door. As silently as possible, Maura approached the door and peered through the slats in the window.
It was too dark to see anything but shadows. Beside the desk a large key hung on a hook. Maura grabbed the key, inserted it into the lock and slowly turned it to unlock the heavy door.
Holding her breath, Maura slowly pushed the door inward wide enough for her to pass through to the other side. It was a narrow hallway, dark and cold. A lantern and matches rested on a shelf to her right. The chirping was considerably louder now. She struck a match and lit the lantern.
The hallway was about twenty feet long. A holding cell was located at the midpoint. With the lantern in her left hand, the shotgun in her right, Maura followed the soft chirping to the holding cell.
Maura reached the cell where she could see something inside the tiny cell. There was a foul stench coming from inside. She held up the lantern, cascading light
behind the iron bars.
She gasped at the sight of two dozen or more soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder. Their eyes were dark and empty, the skin on their faces greenish and diseased looking.
They were ghouls.
Like Mr. Philip.
Like the group in the field.
Like her husband Daniel.
The ghouls in front looked at her. The ghouls in back moved forward. That’s when Maura noticed the dead on the floor and the source of the wicked odor. A half dozen or more the ghouls simply stepped over the dead and ignored them.
The chirping stopped as the ghouls focused on her.
There was a moment of complete silence.
Then the ghouls rushed the iron bars, snarling and growling, reaching through them to grab at Maura.
Maura stepped back and looked at the ghouls.
“God in heaven,” she said, softly.
Snarling with snapping teeth, the ghouls went mad as they tried to reach Maura.
Maura watched them for a minute or so. She set the lantern down, then raised the shotgun and took aim at the ghouls up front. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
“Ma, ma, come quick!” Seth shouted from the street.
Maura held her finger on the trigger.
“Ma, quick!” Seth shouted.
Maura slowly de-cocked the shotgun and lowered it to her side. She picked up the lantern, walked back to the door and set the lantern on the shelf, blowing it out before returning to the street.
Seth was standing in front of the stockade.
“What is it Seth?” Maura said.
“People are coming,” Seth said.
Chapter 13.
The ghouls scratched and banged on the door, walls and boarded windows of the cabin for an hour at least before they quieted down and made soft chirping sounds that to Teal and Sands sounded like some kind of bird.
Occasionally one of them made a weak scratch at the door, but mostly the noise was confined to chirping.
Sands and Teal smoked rolled cigarettes and drank coffee at the table.
“How long they been out there now?” Sands said.