The Winchester Run

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The Winchester Run Page 24

by Ralph Compton


  “I never would have believed it,” said Gourd Snively. “I’d have bet that bunch would have had trouble follerin’ a train if somebody had picked ’em up and set ’em on the track.”

  The rain began to diminish in the afternoon, and by sundown had stopped completely.

  “I’ll take an axe and maybe find some dry wood,” Buck said. “Who wants to go with me?”

  “I’ll go along,” said Red. “After bein soaked to the hide all day, some hot coffee will be mighty welcome.”

  “Damn,” Haze said, in mock disappointment, “I was lookin’ forward to river water and jerked beef for supper. Not so much for my benefit, but for them blue bellies.”

  “I reckon we lucked out on this storm,” said Port Guthrie, “dependin’ on how you look at it. Mud shouldn’t be a problem tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Mac said. “Whatever lies ahead, I’d as soon meet it head-on and be done with it.”

  It was a statement Mac Tunstall was going to regret, in the days that followed.

  The day after the storm, the wagons moved on. With only a day of rain, the runoff had been swift. There were no wet-weather springs or streams, and the Colorado only ran muddy for a few hours. Except for Lieutenant Nelson, the soldiers had been mostly silent, and after his heated exchange with Mac during the storm, Nelson seemed to have nothing more to say. But there was something troubling about the prolonged silence, and more than once, Mac felt the eyes of the soldiers upon him and his wary outfit.

  “After today,” Haze said, during the third watch, “we shouldn’t be more than another forty miles from Austin. That is, if Nelson was leveling with us.”

  “I don’t doubt that he was,” said Mac. “There’s been some kind of change in him and the whole bunch, the last day or two. Can’t you tell?”

  “Yeah,” Haze said, “but I reckoned it was because you had words with him when they wanted the mules to go lookin’ for their horses.”

  “No,” said Mac, “it’s something more than that. From here on, I reckon we’d better be ready for anything.”

  The showdown came the next evening after supper, four days west of Austin, and in a manner that nobody in Mac’s outfit had expected. Hattie and Rachel had heated several pots of water, and the four women had retired to their wagon for bathing. The soldiers, including Lieutenant Nelson, had left the supper fire and were graining their horses. Suddenly there was a scream from Trinity’s wagon. Mac, Red, Buck, and Haze reached it to find Lieutenant Nelson and Sergeant Embler there ahead of them, each man with a cocked Winchester. Nelson spoke.

  “That’s far enough. Unbuckle your gunbelts and let ’em fall, and that includes all you teamsters. Don’t any of you try anything foolish. Four of my men are in the wagon with the women, and take my word, the ladies will pay dearly for your mistakes.”

  Having no choice, Mac and his companions unbuckled their gunbelts, while Guthrie and his teamsters were forced to drop their Winchesters.

  “You’ll never get away with this, Nelson,” Mac said. “We’re expected in Austin.”

  Nelson laughed. “The army moves slowly, Tunstall. By now, they’ll have us all down as deserters, but before anybody ties us to these missing wagons and their cargo, we’ll be in another country, with enough gold to last us a lifetime.”

  “I reckon it’s a waste of time, appealing to a bastard like you,” said Buck, “but what do you aim to do with us?”

  “Do as you’re told,” Nelson said, “and you’ll be allowed to live. You men will be sold to the silver mines in Mexico, and the whorehouses will welcome the women. After we’re finished with them, of course.”

  There was another agonized scream from the wagon . . .

  CHAPTER 16

  What followed was a nightmare.

  “Puckett, Haynes, McCarty, and Stearn, bring the irons,” Lieutenant Nelson ordered.

  From saddlebags, the men brought leg irons and manacles for the wrists.

  “You first, Tunstall,” said Nelson.

  Mac’s wrists were manacled first, and then the irons were locked about his ankles. He could walk only by taking short steps. Quickly the other men were similarly shackled. Only then were the women allowed to leave the wagon. They all looked terrified and ashamed.

  “Willis, Gerdes, Irvin, Odell, Konda, and Collins, gather up all those weapons and put them in that wagon,” Nelson ordered. “From now on, you women will ride horseback, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll continue doing the cooking. You teamsters will be in charge of your wagons as before, but you will be covered all the time you are on your wagon box. All you men will be manacled at night. Any one of you attempting to escape, be aware that it will go hard on those left behind. Tunstall, Prinz, Sanderson, and McLean, we know the woman each of you are partial to. Escape, or attempt to escape, and she will be shot without mercy. The same goes for you women. Run for it, and your man will die. You ladies will be allowed to continue preparing the meals, since you have been doing it so well. Any questions?”

  The very audacity of the man rendered them all speechless, and Nelson continued.

  “You may make yourselves comfortable for the night. I must warn you to avoid any activity that might be mistaken by my sentries, lest you be shot. The wagon containing your weapons will be watched, and any one of you approaching it will be shot. You men, I alone have the key to your irons. Good night.”

  They were left alone, with only the women unshackled.

  “Oh, God,” Trinity moaned, “I’m so sorry they were able to use us to disarm all of you. What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mac. “Did they . . . harm any of you?”

  “They violated us all, like we were whores,” Hattie sobbed. “After dark, I’m going to run away, and let them shoot me.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” said Red angrily. “You’ll do what you must, to stay alive. Somehow, before we reach the end of this trail, we’ll break loose. Then there’ll be some dying, but it won’t be us.”

  “They threw all our bedrolls out of the wagon,” Trinity said. “We’d better get them, before it gets dark.”

  “Our bedrolls are in our individual wagons,” said Port Guthrie. “Leave ’em there. I’d feel like less of a man if I asked any favors of them skunks.”

  Trinity brought Mac’s bedroll and her own, spreading them away from the others so that she and Mac might have some privacy. Hattie, Rachel, and Elizabeth seemed to have the same idea, for after what had happened, they felt a desperate need to talk.

  “Do you think there’s any hope for us?” Trinity asked softly.

  “There’s always hope, as long as we’re alive,” said Mac. “The most difficult task ahead of us is getting that key from Nelson. We can’t fight, chained like dogs.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Trinity replied. “Suppose I play up to him, beg him not to sell me into a whorehouse, and make him want me?”

  “My God, no,” said Mac. “I won’t have him laying with you, while I’m in chains. Not even to save my life, I won’t.”

  “You’ll never know how I treasure hearing you say that,” Trinity said, “but you’re overlooking something. Four of them took us in the wagon. Don’t you suppose the others will demand their turn? If we have to . . . submit to them, can’t we use that to perhaps win their confidence, to catch them off guard?”

  “I won’t have them stripping you of your dignity, of your very soul,” said Mac.

  “Is it that, or just your way of saying that when they’re finished with me, you don’t want what’s left?”

  “If we get out of this alive,” Mac said, “whatever happens between now and then will be over and done. I’ll still want you, whatever they’ve done to you, because unless they murder me first, I’ll kill every man who’s laid a hand on you.”

  “If you mean that—about wanting me—then let me do whatever I must to get close enough to that rotten lieutenant to get my hands on those keys,” said Trinity.

  �
��The very thought of you . . . with him . . . sickens me,” Mac said, “but I meant everything I said. But you’d better tell the others what you have in mind. I’d not want them thinking you . . . were serious.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they think,” said Trinity. “Nelson’s the one who matters, and my act might be more convincing if our outfit seems disgusted. The trouble is, I can’t be convincing to him, if I’m spending all my time with you. Can you spare me, until we’re all out of this mess?”

  “I reckon I’ll have to,” Mac said, “but I’ll need some way to communicate with you.”

  “Then I’ll have to tell Hattie my plans,” said Trinity. “I like Elizabeth and Rachel, but I trust Hattie the most. She’ll understand, because once she thinks about it, this is the kind of thing she would do. I’ll talk to you through Hattie, and you can talk to me the same way. First I’ll talk to Hattie and then I’ll get started on that stinking First Lieutenant Nelson.”

  It took some doing to lure Hattie away from Red without him knowing the reason. In just a few minutes, Hattie had been won over and sworn to silence.

  “It’s the same thing I’ve been telling Red,” said Hattie. “If they’re going to take what they want anyway, then what do we have to lose, using it to win our freedom? If you’re unable to gain his trust, then let me try. We must have those keys. I’ll shuck him out of his britches and then bash his head in with a rock.”

  Despite their precarious position, Trinity laughed. She threw her arms around Hattie, and for just a moment they held one another tight. Then Trinity went to find Lieutenant Nelson. It still wasn’t quite dark, and Nelson saw her coming. He got up off the wagon tongue where he and Sergeant Embler had been sitting.

  “What do you want?” Nelson asked.

  “I want to talk to you,” said Trinity, in as soothing a manner as she could.

  “Talk,” Nelson replied.

  “Not with the sergeant here,” Trinity said coyly.

  “Take a walk, Sergeant,” said Nelson.

  Embler stared at Trinity as though he had some idea as to what was about to take place, and she was thankful for the dusky-darkness that hid her embarrassment. Embler got up and, without a word, walked away. Trinity sat down on the wagon tongue where Embler had been sitting. Nelson took the hint and sat down beside her.

  “I don’t want to be sold into a whorehouse,” said Trinity, as earnestly as she could. She even managed to squeeze out a tear or two.

  Lieutenant Nelson laughed. “And why shouldn’t you be? You’re fully equipped for it.”

  “Because I want to live,” Trinity said, “and a whorehouse isn’t my idea of living. I’d be willing to make it worth your while, keeping me for yourself.”

  “Why should I? With the kind of money I expect to have, I can buy any woman that suits my fancy. Any dozen women.”

  “I’m sure you can,” said Trinity, “but what kind of man is it who can only have those women he’s bought and paid for? Will you be satisfied with a woman who can never see beyond your money?”

  It was dark, and he took advantage of it. One arm around her waist, he dragged her against him. With his free hand, he popped some buttons off the front of her dress. When he found she wore nothing beneath it, he became excited. Trinity forced herself to relax, to breathe normally, hoping he couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart or feel the goose bumps on her naked skin. She allowed him to slip the dress off her shoulders, and made no move to halt his exploring hands. Just as she was about to cry out in an agony of revulsion, he let her go. She took her time rearranging her dress, for she couldn’t think of a word to say, and she feared her voice would tremble. It was Nelson who finally spoke.

  “You’re right, to some extent. I’ve had bought women before, and they usually leave something to be desired. We’ll be another week on the trail. That will allow us time to talk again, and perhaps you can convince me you’re worth my while.”

  He got to his feet and walked away in the direction Sergeant Embler had gone. Trinity got up, holding to the wagon box to steady her trembling knees. She had no doubt that Nelson would be watching her, and she dared not go near Mac. She had already moved her bedroll some distance away, and she stretched out. She hadn’t been there long when there came a silent shadow to kneel beside her.

  “Tell me what happened,” Hattie whispered.

  Trinity did, sparing no details.

  “Dear God,” said Hattie, “you have nerve. I don’t know if I could stand that from a man I’d like to see dead.”

  “I can stand it,” Trinity said, “because that’s what it’s going to take for us to see this skunk dead. He’s putting me off, for some reason.”

  “He can take you,” said Hattie. “He can take everything you have to offer, and still not fall into a trap.”

  “Perhaps I’ll have to let him have it all,” Trinity said, “but he’ll take it only once, and it’ll be the most expensive he’s ever had, because I intend to kill him.”

  “One of us will have to,” said Hattie. “It’s the only chance we have. I’ve talked to Rachel and Elizabeth, but I haven’t told them what you plan to do. They know we may all be taken by this bunch of deserters, and they can stand that, if they must. I suppose the hardest part has been getting Haze and Buck to accept it. Red finally admitted he’d rather have me alive, even if I’ve been considerably used. I’m beginning to believe there may be a way out of this for us all, if we can bear the humiliation and indignity.”

  “We must,” Trinity said. “Tell Mac I believe I’ve made some progress, but try not to tell him too much, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Hattie. “It’s the same thing that’s bothering Red. He’s treated me like a gentleman, asking nothing more than a kiss, and now he’s in chains, with constant thoughts of other men pawing me.”

  The first long night of captivity came to an end. When it was time for the wagons to again take the trail, Lieutenant Nelson ordered the shackles removed from the men’s legs. The teamsters were able to harness their teams and mount the wagon boxes. Mac, Red, Buck, and Haze were able to straddle their horses, even with manacles on their wrists.

  “We’ll cross the river at the next shallows,” Nelson said. “From there, we bear to the southeast. We’ll pass to the south of Austin and to the north of San Antonio.”

  Mac, Red, Buck, and Haze rode near enough together to talk to one another. Trinity, Hattie, Rachel, and Elizabeth rode well behind the men. Sergeant Embler had taken over Trinity’s wagon.

  “If we’re headed between Austin and San Antonio,” said Buck, “these varmints are on their way to the Gulf, somewhere north of Corpus Christi. That means they’re aimin’ to take us and these guns away on a sailing ship.”

  “Sounds like it,” Mac said gloomily. “How far you reckon it is from here?”

  “Near two hundred miles,” said Buck. “Don’t you reckon, Red?”

  “Yeah,” Red replied. “Ten days from the gulf. Ten days to escape, if we can.”

  “We’re in need of a plan,” said Haze. “There has to be some way we can bust loose from this bunch.”

  “They’ll be expecting that, every waking minute,” Mac said. “I reckon all we can do is wait another day or two, and see if they let up on us.”

  “The women have somethin’ on their minds,” said Haze, “but Elizabeth won’t tell me anything. Ever since she got pawed over in that wagon, she’s been mighty quiet.”

  “It’s been hard on her,” Buck said. “It’s been hard on them all, and we ain’t makin’ it any easier when we force ’em to talk about what happened.”

  “It ain’t a damn bit harder on them than it is on us,” said Haze. “How can a man keep his mouth shut, when his woman’s been had by a bunch of no-account deserters, and she don’t want to talk about it?”

  “She was taken by force, Haze,” Mac said, “same as the others. Would you feel any better if Elizabeth had resisted until they shot and killed her?”

/>   “No,” said Haze. “I want her alive.”

  “Then stop holding it against her because she won’t try to make you feel better with excuses,” Mac said. “You reckon they’re goin’ to get by with just the four men who took them in the wagon? You reckon the others won’t demand their turn?”

  “Damn it,” Haze shouted, “shut up. We got to escape before that happens.”

  “Don’t count on it,” said Red, “and don’t make poor Elizabeth any more miserable than she is already. What’s happened is almost certain to happen again, and there’s not a damned thing we can do about it, in chains like we are, and without weapons.”

  Casting Red a sour look, Haze said no more. Mac and Red exchanged looks, and Mac almost knew Hattie had told him what Trinity had in mind. Lieutenant Nelson rode back to meet the wagons.

  “There’s a low bank and shallow water ahead,” Nelson said. “We’ll cross the wagons there.”

  In the lead wagon, Port Guthrie said nothing. While he wondered how they were to escape from this predicament, he still had faith in Mac Tunstall and his three companions. Guthrie’s wagon crossed without incident and the others followed. Trinity’s wagon was the last, and while Sergeant Embler was at the reins, Nelson had ordered Privates Puckett and Haynes to ride behind the wagon. Their camp at the end of the second day of captivity was much like the first. But after dark, that changed. Three of the soldiers came to the place where Trinity, Elizabeth, Rachel, and Hattie had spread their blankets. Private Gerdes took Elizabeth by the arm, while Irvin and Odell seized Hattie and Rachel.

  “Not you,” said Gerdes, when Trinity got to her feet.

  “Damn you,” Haze shouted. He stumbled to his feet, fell, and before he could rise, Gerdes drew his Colt and slammed Haze in the back of the head. He slumped down and didn’t move again. The sobbing Elizabeth was led away, along with Rachel and Hattie. The three women were taken well beyond the shackled men.

 

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