The Way of the Dogs (The Colter Saga Book 2)

Home > Other > The Way of the Dogs (The Colter Saga Book 2) > Page 9
The Way of the Dogs (The Colter Saga Book 2) Page 9

by Joel Baker


  James tried not to look concerned, but failed.

  “No,” Molly said. “That’s the third time you asked me. Are you worried about the dogs?”

  “Let’s sit on the porch,” James said. “I’ll explain.”

  Molly and James sat close to each other holding hands.

  “We know the raiders are up on the western ridge in force,” James said. The problem is we’re completely vulnerable if they are able to gain the heights on the eastern ridge. They could sit up there and pick us off one at a time. We don’t have the manpower to defend the eastern ridge. It’s too big and we’re too few.”

  “That seems like a pretty big problem,” Molly said. “Tell me you’ve got something else up your sleeve.”

  “This is where this all gets a little weird” Jesse said.

  “James, you’re starting to scare me,” Molly said. “Please tell me you have some way of keeping those murderers off that ridge?”

  Now Molly was visibly shaken.

  “It belongs to the dogs,” James said. “After my great grandfather Jesse died, the dogs took the eastern ridge as their territory. They discouraged us from entering the ridge and we were never foolish enough to press the issue with them.”

  “Discourage you?” Molly asked. “James you’re not making much sense.”

  “Have you ever seen Samson or any of the dogs really mad?” James asked. “So mad they could rip your throat out? Molly, we learned a long time ago you need to respect the dogs. Since before we first arrived in Haven, we’ve had a deep appreciation for the dogs and treated them with respect. Besides, it’s too scary to try and do anything that might piss them off.”

  “So you’re telling me we are counting on some dogs,” Molly said. “That may have disappeared, to keep a group of vicious killers from swooping down and killing us whenever they want.”

  “Well, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound too good,” James said. “I’ll confess I am a little worried. But, like my Uncle Paul told me, you got to trust the dogs when it comes to a fight.”

  Suddenly gun shots rang out on the far side of eastern ridge. They were quickly followed by the ghoulish screams of men and horses being ripped to pieces. James was certain the sound carried clear to the western ridge where Bates sat preparing to attack Haven. It was almost a keening sound, a high sustained scream through many throats constricted in pain and dying.

  Molly raced to James’s arms and covered her ears with her hands.

  After a few minutes, the silence weighed heavily on everyone and begged for a resolution, but none came. Just silence, as nothing moved and no sound was heard. It was as if the ground had opened up and swallowed whatever or whoever had been foolish enough to enter the eastern ridge.

  Molly wept softly against the chest of James. James tried to comfort her by holding her close.

  “They’re monsters,” Molly whispered. “What could kill like that?”

  “If they’re monsters, Molly, just remember they’re our monsters,” James said. “They’re a different species Molly. They’re not dogs anymore. They’re friends of the family. They live with us and deserve a place in the world. They don’t ask us to love them or show them affection. All they ask is for us to respect them.”

  “Well,” Molly said pulling herself together. “I’m crossing the east ridge off my ‘places to visit’ list. I don’t think we’ll have any problems from that direction.”

  “It’s getting light,” James said. “I suspect we have a very long day ahead of us.”

  Just then he heard the sound of shots being fired over by the buildings on the right side of the barricade.

  “It sounds like they’re trying to test our line for weaknesses,” James said. “I better get over there.”

  “Just a minute, James,” Molly said, grabbing his arm and holding him tightly.

  “I have something to say to you,” Molly said. “I may not have a chance to say ever again. Are you listening?”

  James nodded his head and looked deeply into Molly’s green eyes.

  “I love you James Colter,” Molly said. “I want to spend all the rest of my days with you. I want to have your babies and to grow old with you. I want to spoil our grandchildren and tell them stories of when we were young and our passion burned with a fierce flame. You are the love of my life and I will never know another. I love you James Colter.”

  James embraced Molly and held her as long as he could. The firing continued and he had to answer the call. They kissed and both put as much meaning as possible before reluctantly breaking apart. James turned and ran towards the sound of battle.

  Chapter 15

  Bates watched as the men he sent against the right flank of the barricade crept closer, occasionally rising up and firing at no specific target. The return firing was heavy although not especially well directed. It posed no real threat. It confirmed his assumption they were going to attempt to defend every section of the wall. He sent a runner to tell the attackers to lay low and wait.

  Everyone on the west ridge was on edge after the awful echoing screams coming from clear across the valley. The echo had barely died before several of the men attempted to sneak off into the bushes and away from whatever had caused those screams. Even Bates was shaken. If he was to have Haven and all its riches, he would have to move quickly. He was sure he’d lost twelve men with Shaffer. Then there was the one deserter he just shot. He’d have to move against Haven as soon as possible.

  The albino looked around the small cabin clinging to the side of the western ridge across from Haven. It was dusty and had shelves like a large bookcase against the back wall. Two of his three remaining leaders had been with Bates since the start. He trusted these two, second only to the now missing Schaffer. The third was a weasel looking character named George Kish who had joined the militia a couple of months before. He’d proven himself since then to be willing to kill or hurt anyone or anything. Bates still didn’t trust him entirely.

  “Did everyone get fed?” Bates asked looking around the room. “Hungry men are cowards and are likely to run away. We shoot cowards and runaways. It’s going to be full daylight in about an hour. We’re going to send Jarrod and his group to test the middle of the barricade. Jarrod, there’s not a lot of cover, so don’t worry about them seeing you coming. There’s nothing we can do about it. You get within a hundred yards and send a few rounds into Haven with the Yardley.”

  Jarrod Williams was the only man in the Militia strong enough to carry the Yardley unassisted. He was an incredibly large man with massive arms and chest. The Yardley was a small light cannon normally carried by two men. Two men were still needed to load and fire the thing.

  From a hundred yards using black powder and small cannon balls, it would frighten more than inflict real damage. The smoke and noise would draw the attention of all the defenders and that was its purpose.

  “Kevin,” Bates said. “I’m going need you to take George and his men with yours up to the north end of the valley. I want you to return along the eastern ridge till your positioned by the houses they burned. George, you take direction from Kevin.”

  Kevin Bishop had a worried look on his face. George Kish didn’t look too pleased either.

  “You want us on the eastern ridge?” Kevin asked. “Are you sure boss?”

  Kevin had proven himself as both loyal and capable. He was the one who tracked down and killed the old man with the map. The rat in Bates head whipped his tail. Bates eyes rolled back in his head. He was only gone a few seconds. He looked at the men in front of him and only George Kish appeared to have noticed.

  “Kevin,” Bates said. “Skirt the edge of the East Ridge, but not on it. None of us know what those screams were. I don’t think Schaffer and his men are coming back any time soon. I can’t afford to lose any more of you to whatever is on the ridge. You’ll have almost seventy hard and seasoned fighters with you Kevin. When I give the signal, you charge the left flank of the barricade with all you got. Once inside, ki
ll everything that moves except the red head. She belongs to me.”

  “What’s the signal?” Kevin asked.

  “I’ll set fire to this cabin,” Bates said. “When you see the flames, give it everything you got. How long will it take for you to get in place?”

  “We’ll be in place and ready to go by noon I think,” Kevin replied.

  Bates left the claustrophobic confines of the small cabin. He hated being closed in to small spaces. He stood on the edge of the western ridge and stared at the encircling barricades of Haven. From here the people looked like ants he would soon step on. We only have two prisoners left from the earlier raids, he thought as the rat’s tail twitched again. I should have told them to take some prisoners since these two will probably be dead by noon. Oh well, Eagle Rock is only a short ride away.

  ****

  Both Molly and James stood on a slight rise in the middle of the compound. From their position they could see the eastern ridge and up the valley. The west ridge was a blind spot due to the shape of the valley. They’d seen significant activity earlier in the morning on the west ridge, but now the sun was almost directly overhead and not much was happening.

  “I wish you would find someplace to hide Molly,” James said. “Standing beside me is not exactly the safest place to be right now.”

  “It’s not going to happen, James,” Molly said. “Look around you. There are as many women on the firing lines as men. No, if we go down, we go down together. These women are strong and as tough as they need to be. This is where we belong and this is where we stay.”

  “You still have your derringer primed and ready to go?” James asked with a smile.

  “You bet I do,” Molly said. “You probably think this ribbon around my neck is here just to please you, don’t you?”

  “Molly, everything about you pleases me… What the heck was that?” James asked, turning quickly towards the west side of the valley.

  A dozen men emerged from the west ridge directly across from Haven’s barricades. They spread out in a line and covered the intervening distance in a jog. They were crouched low to the ground. Behind them, two more men emerged carrying a wooden box with rope handles between them. Judging by the effort they were expending, the box weighed a lot.

  “Get ready in the middle!” James shouted. Men and women assigned to the wall raced to their firing positions. Fear showed in some of their faces, but everyone was determined. Those tall enough stood on the firing boards along the overturned wagons without allowing their heads to show.

  On the other side of the valley a single man emerged from the woods. He was carrying what appeared to be a young child wrapped in a blanket. The man was huge. He drew closer to the line of men deployed in a line in front of the barricades. Molly raised the binoculars and watched as the man turned and headed directly for the box the other two had set on the ground. He was a hundred yards in front of the Haven wall.

  “It’s not a child he’s carrying, James. Have a look.” Molly handed the binoculars to James.

  James watched as the large man uncovered the cannon he cradled in his arms. It appeared to be brass or bronze and was about three feet long. The man lifted two steel rods from the box and fitted them in the sides of the cannon as legs. He then positioned the cannon to point at the far right end of the barricade. A packet of black powder was taken from the box and rammed down the throat of the cannon followed by an iron ball. Finally, black powder was poured into the primer hole.

  “Get your heads down!” James shouted.

  The large man touched a burning brand to the touch hole. The echoing sound of a cannon was surprisingly loud. The cannon ball arched through the air and blew a hole in Seth Colters’ house. It was close to the building housing the steam engine. Some boards were blown into the air and the smoke from the cannon drifted towards the people crouching behind the overturned wagons.

  Two women carrying buckets of water hurried towards the house hit by the cannon ball in case fire broke out. The large man across the field ran a damp rag down the throat of the cannon and began the loading process all over again. There was the hum of comments up and down the line behind the wagons. No one seemed especially concerned over the limited damage caused by the small cannon.

  The smoke and noise continued for some time as the large man methodically fired cannon rounds into Haven. James watched the iron cannonballs land and thought seriously about moving some of the defenders from the left side of the rampart. But something didn’t seem quite right.

  It was then he saw smoke rising from the shack on the west ridge. The shack had a special meaning to the Colter clan. It concealed the cave where Sarah, Lily and Hattie had waited during the Haskins shootout all those years ago. The cave was a well guarded secret known only to those elders of Haven with direct ties to the Colter family. Now it burned and James wasn’t sure why.

  The first sign of real trouble started with dust rising in the air in front of the East Ridge. James ran towards the right. He saw a mounted charge of the militia directed towards the barricades. The closely packed riders screamed as they charged with their firearms and swords waving in the air. The thunder of the horse’s hooves was deafening and several defenders broke from the barricade and ran towards the rear.

  ****

  Jimmy Kimble peeked over the barricade at the onrushing charge. Both of his hands were on the swivel bar. Tall, skinny, and barely seventeen, Jimmy would normally be helping his uncle Seth with the steam engine today. Instead, he stood facing the screaming men charging towards him, their faces twisted in rage. He knew his job well. He’d practiced it several times in the past. Jimmy was to wait until the horses reached the pile of stones stacked off to the side. When they did, he was to pull down hard on the lever in his hands.

  He wasn’t necessarily all that brave. But like all men facing death in battle, Jimmy wondered why he he’d volunteered to do this. He didn’t want to die. He wore the sardonic grin of someone too young to die. He had regrets. He wished he’d kissed Susan Wright at the dance last October when he had the chance.

  It’s hard to fire a weapon from a horse back. It’s almost impossible to hit where you’re aiming when the horse is in full gallop. The bullet that caught Jimmy in the head had almost certainly been a lucky shot. A woman in her middle age, hid behind a small shed on the rise behind where her Jimmy stood waiting to pull the lever as he’d been instructed. She watched in horror as the spray of blood rose as a cloud above her boy’s head. Her scream was lost in the din of battle.

  When she reached Jimmy’s body, now bathed in blood, she peered over the rampart at the charging men and horses. With no further thought she reached up and grabbed the lever, now wet with her only son’s blood. She pulled with all her strength as the sharpened bars rose slowly to a level position. She heard a click as the bars locked in place just as the charging horses reached a pile of rocks standing off to one side.

  ****

  James watched as the lead riders tried to stop their charging horses from being impaled on the sharpened bars sticking out from the wagons. The horses were pushed onto the stakes by those unable to stop. In some cases the horse dug their hooves in the dirt and the riders were hurled over their head and onto the stakes. The screams of dying horses and men rose to a deafening level.

  The wagons were driven into the compound as the horses and men piled up behind them. The remaining militia poured through the breech as the defenders ran towards them from all directions to engage the enemy. James fired his revolver until it clicked on empty cylinders. He threw the gun away, drew his tomahawk and knife and plunged into the growing foray.

  ****

  Molly watched from a short distance away as the battle ebbed first one way and then the other. She saw many defenders stumble with bloody wounds, as men began to swing their rifles as clubs. Women and men both fought with the fury of banshees. Molly saw with horror the invaders gain an upper hand and push the defenders towards the buildings at their back. Two men broke from
the main body of attackers and turned in her direction.

  “Remember what Bates told us George,” the younger man said. “We’re supposed to save her for him.”

  “Screw Bates,’ George said. “He’s not here and I am. I intend to do what I please with this pretty little thing.”

  George Kish gave Molly an evil smile as he circled to her left.

  “Come here little girly,” George said. “Daddy Kish has got something for you.”

  Molly took several steps backward and drew the ribbon and derringer from between her breasts. Suddenly the battle receded into the background as she focused on the two thugs trying to corner her. She swung the derringer from one to the other of her attackers.

  “Don’t let that little pea shooter gun she’s got scare you,” George said to the other man. “Make a move and grab her.”

  Molly glanced over to where James had disappeared into the battle. She thought she caught sight of him for a moment. It appeared as if he lay on the ground, his buckskins covered in blood. Then she saw something else. She wasn’t sure what it was. It was a black mass flowing down the eastern ridge at a tremendous rate of speed. When the black mass reached the bottom of the ridge it broke into twenty pieces, each piece suddenly becoming air borne higher than a man’s head.

  My God! Molly thought. It’s the dogs.

  Both of the attackers continued to advance on Molly. Finally the younger man lunged at her and tried to grab her wrist.

  Molly knew her derringer. At six feet or less the derringer packed a terrible punch. It fired two thirty eight caliber rounds. Molly pointed the derringer at the man’s head and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the man’s forehead one inch above the bridge of his nose. The top of his head disappeared somewhere behind him. She tried to turn the gun on George Fisk, but was too late.

  While stunned by the punch to her jaw and unable to move, Molly was fully aware when George sat on top of her pinning her arms to her sides. He smiled showing his yellow teeth and spit tobacco juice barely missing her head. Then he began pawing at her clothes. She turned her head away from George’s leering face. Her eyes began to tear up as she thought of how this all might end.

 

‹ Prev