Shadow Walker

by J. R. Roberts

  “Did Coltraine bring the woman who you were traded for?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes. It was a woman he was supposed to bring to another town, but she was giving him too much trouble. He traded her for me and tried to sell me to another tribe, but could not. They said they wanted white women and could get lots of money for them.”

  “The Crow are buying these women?”

  Dyani shook her head. “They trade for them, but they sell them to someone else. It is only a small group of Crow who are doing this. Nobody from my tribe.”

  “Is your tribe the Koko people? Someone told us that’s who lived in this village.”

  When Dyani heard that, she crinkled her nose and shook her head. “Koko is a Blackfoot word for night. It was given to us by some of the traitors who ride with these white slavers. They follow Coltraine and call him Shadow Walker like he is one of our own. None of these men are a tribe. They have no pride and no honor. It is not brave to steal women and hide them away until they can be sold.”

  “Who buys them?”

  “I do not know. I stay here and am not allowed to leave. I see the women come and go and the ones who aren’t killed here never come back. There are dogs in every tribe, who make the rest look like dogs as well.”

  Rachel sighed and straightened the dress over her shoulders. “Believe me, my people have plenty of dogs among them, too.”

  Still fretting with the hem, Dyani said, “These dogs who think they are Crow and Shoshone are just animals. The only ones worse than them are the animals who pay to take the women that are stolen from their homes. Even if I did know who they were, it would not help. They are far from here. I can try to give you a chance to escape, but even that will be dangerous for you.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I need to know if you remember my sister coming through here.”

  “I know where to look, but there are so many that come and go. I cannot remember them all. Some don’t even leave a trace.”

  “Anything you could do would help.”

  “Tell me what she looks like,” Dyani said as she lowered herself to one knee and made some last-minute alterations.

  “I can do better than that,” Rachel replied as she reached for a locket that always hung from her neck. She opened the locket to reveal two pictures. “This is Emily,” she said while pointing to one of the pictures.

  “And who is the other one?”

  “That’s Lilly. She’s my mother. My real name is Rachel. I lied about it before because I didn’t want any of these bastards to know who I am.”

  Dyani smiled, but there wasn’t a trace of humor on her face. “These men do not care who you are. All they care is if you are a woman.” She stared at the picture in the locket and then nodded. “But I will see what I can find out about your sister. Like they say, though, don’t hold your breath.”

  Rachel put the locket away and looked around to see if the door was open or if anyone was standing outside the windows. “I may be able to get us both out of here. Someone is coming for me.”

  “Nobody will come,” Dyani said sadly. “I gave up that dream a long time ago.”

  “The man I’m talking about should be right on my heels. He might even be here tonight. If we can get to you, will you come away with us?”

  “I will not leave my son behind.”

  “I don’t think Clint would want to leave that boy behind, either.”

  Dyani tied up the stitch she’d been working on and stood up. “If your man makes it here, he will be the only one to get so far.”

  “Clint’s just the man for the job,” Rachel said confidently, even though she felt a pang of worry in the bottom of her stomach.

  “If that is so, I will do everything I can to help him. I don’t think there will be another who is strong enough to make it here.”

  There was a single knock on the door before it was pushed open. The younger man stuck his head inside and once again looked disappointed by what he saw. “You done with that dress?”

  “Yes,” Dyani replied.

  “Then start working on more of ’em. Coltraine’ll need ’em when he gets back.”

  Nodding once to Rachel was all Dyani needed to do in order to send one last message. That nod told Rachel to be strong and remember the things she’d been told. It also told her not to worry about Dyani holding up her own end. Once Dyani saw the nod in return, she lowered her eyes and turned toward the door.

  “I’ll be checkin’ on you later,” the young man said to Rachel as he grinned hungrily.

  After that, the door was slammed shut and the latch was dropped into place.

  FORTY-ONE

  Rachel wasn’t sure how long she sat in that shack. Sometimes, it seemed as if she’d just arrived and other times, it felt as if she’d been there for days. The light coming through the windows faded away before going out completely. Although she had yet to hear or see any sign of Clint, she also hadn’t seen any of the other men who’d promised to pay her a visit.

  As she waited, Rachel didn’t have much else to do besides think. Since thinking only led to some dark possibilities floating through her mind, she examined her new dress instead. The stitches were perfectly spaced and uniform in size. It fit her perfectly and was a little hard to move in, but that had been by Dyani’s design. Rachel smirked at the thought of someone fighting to pull that dress off of her.

  Her smirk faded pretty quickly as that same thought lingered for a bit.

  As if picking up on her thoughts, someone knocked on the door and lifted the latch.

  Rachel’s first idea was to get away from the door, even though she didn’t know who was coming through. Her instinct was correct, since it was the younger man from earlier that day who stepped inside. He grinned at her and shut the door behind him as Rachel climbed onto one of the cots and put her back to the wall.

  “Hey there, pretty lady,” the man said.

  He looked hungrier than before and was already unbuckling his belt as he walked forward. He also wasn’t wearing a gun, which put a crimp in Rachel’s plan to find one for herself.

  “The Injuns we’re sellin’ you to like to see you in them dresses Donnie makes. Them Mexicans like ’em, too. They say they keep your legs nice and warm.”

  “I thought I was going to work at a place,” Rachel said. “That’s what Mr. Rice told me. You’d better talk to him before you lay one finger on me.”

  The young man just kept stalking forward. “I already had a word with him,” he said. “And he told me you were a fine piece of pussy. You ain’t the first one to come through here, just so’s you know.”

  Pulling his pants down and climbing onto the cot, he added, “And you also better know what happens to the bitches who don’t do what they’re told. We can make you pray for whatever it is them Mexicans do to you once they get your pretty ass south of the border.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth and started swinging at the young man as he crawled toward her. Even as her fists landed and her nails drew blood, all she did was widen the smile on the young man’s face.

  That smile even stayed there as the door behind him was pushed open and heavy steps thumped against the floor. The young man kept his eyes glued to Rachel and even managed to grab hold of her leg before he was hauled off the cot and tossed onto the other one.

  “Are you all right?” Clint asked.

  For a moment, Rachel couldn’t believe her eyes. All she did was nod and then Clint was lunging toward the second cot. She looked over to the door and saw Dyani there, closing it quietly and standing there to make sure it stayed shut.

  “Who the hell are you?” the young man asked.

  Clint didn’t say a word. Instead, he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and slammed his fist directly into the man’s nose. There was a dull crunching sound, followed by another as Clint delivered a second punch to the same spot.

  That second punch to his already broken nose was too much for the younger man. His eyes turned glassy and then rolled up i
nto his head as he went slack.

  Clint dropped him onto the cot and took a quick look out the nearest window. “Looks like we’ve still got some time,” he said. “Are you hurt, Rachel?”

  To answer that, Rachel rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck. She peppered his face with kisses and then kissed him deeply on the mouth.

  As much as he hated to do it, Clint pulled her away and said, “I’ll take that as a yes. What in the hell possessed you to take off on your own like that?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

  “These assholes don’t kill women. They trade them.”

  “They kill plenty,” Clint said. “I’ve seen their graves.”

  “What?”

  “On my way into this camp. They’re buried in the woods a stone’s throw from here, marked by Crow symbols. That’s where I found Dyani.”

  The Indian woman nodded. “I was there checking for your sister.”

  “What . . . what do you mean?” Rachel asked.

  “I bury them because these men would dump them. I mark their graves with my people’s holy symbols as well as things that would have belonged to them. Here,” she said while holding out a small pouch, “look and see if any of these were your sister’s.”

  Rachel held the pouch in one hand and looked to Clint.

  “Go on,” he told her. “I don’t think anyone saw us coming in, but they’ll miss Dyani before too long.”

  Rachel took the pouch and slowly shook its contents onto the cot. Trinkets of all shapes and sizes fell onto the rough blanket. Some were bits of jewelry, while others were pieces of photographs or even marbles and business cards. Seeing all those personal effects brought a sadness to Rachel’s heart that felt like a weight. That weight became even heavier when she saw a locket similar to her own drop from the pouch.

  “Oh, my God.” She sighed.

  Rachel opened the locket and immediately turned pale. Her fingers tightened around it and tears streamed down her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Dyani said.

  Clint rubbed Rachel’s back and told her, “You can stay here and wait for me. I’ve got an idea.”

  “No,” Rachel said vehemently. “Whatever you’re doing to hurt these men, I want to be a part of it.”

  FORTY-TWO

  Two men stood outside one of the nearby cabins and smoked their cigarettes. They laughed and joked to one another while tossing the occasional comment toward the row of smaller cabins with the latches on the outside of the doors.

  “Come on Stewie,” one of the men shouted. “If you can’t get yer pecker hard by now, it ain’t gonna happen!”

  Both men laughed at that, while looking around to see if they had an appreciative audience. Although there were a few Indians sitting at their teepees, they were either women or children, neither of which thought the joke was very funny. The rest of the men in the camp were scattered among the other cabins and weren’t standing around outside.

  “Stewwwie!” the second man hollered, as if he were calling a pig. “Save some of that bitch for us, boy!”

  When they still didn’t get a response, both of them fixed their eyes on the cabin where Rachel was being held.

  “How long’s he been in there?”

  “He said he was goin’ in about fifteen minutes ago, I think. We’ve only been standing out here for five.”

  The first man turned so one ear was pointed at the cabin. “You even hear anything comin’ from in there?”

  “No,” the other replied as he flicked his cigarette to the ground. “Let’s go have us a look.”

  Both of them had their hands resting upon their holstered guns as they walked toward Rachel’s shack. Their eyes were fixed on the door of the shack as they walked straight past a pair of outhouses. Clint watched both of the men walk by as he stood with his back pressed against the closest of those two outhouses.

  As soon as the men walked past him, Clint lunged forward to grab hold of their collars. Using a burst of strength, he pulled and jerked the men off balance, then dragged them straight down so they lost their footing completely.

  Both of them landed with a heavy thump and scrambled around to get a look at who’d ambushed them. Clint got to the bigger of the two men before he could do much of anything and knocked him out with a swift kick to the chin.

  The remaining man on the ground went for his gun, but got Clint’s fist in his face before he could clear leather. The punch started behind Clint’s head, traveled all the way down and landed like a rock to drop the man flat onto his back. Even before he emptied his lungs with a surprised gasp, the man was being dragged into the cabin next to Rachel’s.

  “Do you know where to find some rope?” Clint asked.

  Dyani nodded. “I will get it.”

  As the Indian woman left, Rachel stepped into the empty cabin. She took the gun from the unconscious man’s holster and pointed it at him until Clint dragged the first one in as well. Even though both men were obviously out for the time being, she was tempted to pull her trigger.

  “I’m sorry about your sister,” Clint said.

  She looked over to him and lowered the gun.

  Clint kept watch for anyone else moving around the camp, but turned to check on Rachel. “Are you going to be all right? If you don’t want to do this . . .”

  “I told you already that I want to keep going. I’ll be fine. There’s going to be other women who need help. Just because I was too late to save Emily doesn’t mean I can’t be of some use to someone else.”

  Turning his back to the door, Clint walked over to her and held her by the shoulders. “I won’t hear one more bit of that talk,” he snarled. “You’ve done nothing but help since the first time I crossed your path. I haven’t known you for long, but I’ve rarely met someone who was so hell-bent on their purpose. I’ve got a nasty scar on the back of my head to prove as much.”

  “Sorry about that,” Rachel said with a wince.

  “You did it to help your sister. I may not agree with it, but I’ll give you hell for it later. Right now, you got me here and I even got here before most of the rest of Coltraine’s gang, so we’ve still got a chance to pull this off. I need to know if you’re strong enough to see this through to the end, though.”

  Rachel had tears in her eyes, but the strength behind them was undeniable. “I was strong enough to put you on your ass, wasn’t I?”

  Clint laughed and nodded. “Yeah, you were. Now, I got a look around this place before I ran into Dyani and there’s only five armed men and about twice that many Indians. The only Indians I saw were women and children and Dyani says they won’t lift a finger to help the others if push comes to shove. There’s only three armed men left, but there’s no telling how much time we have before Coltraine and the rest of his gang get here.”

  “So I guess we need to get busy.”

  “You’re right again.”

  FORTY-THREE

  Clint just happened to catch one of the three armed men left in camp as he was walking around a corner to check on his two compadres. Clint’s arm smashed into the gunman’s face, knocking him out before he hit the ground.

  Another one was in the same spot that he’d been in when Clint had first arrived at camp: sleeping in one of the cabins next to the teepees. That man started to wake up at the sound of creaking boards. When he opened his eyes to see if anyone had walked into his cabin, he was just in time to see Clint staring back at him from the shadows.

  Clint aimed his fist at the man’s chin, but only hit a pillow after the man rolled to one side. The cabin wasn’t much bigger than the shack where Rachel had been locked in, but it was big enough for the man to have some room to move once he was off his bed. The man’s holster was around his waist and he went for his gun without hesitation.

  Clint drew and fired his modified Colt before the other man could blink. His shot drilled a hole through the center of the m
an’s chest and threw him back against a wall. The man landed hard enough to shake the cabin and then slid down into a seated position. His eyes were blank, but his final twitch caused his finger to tighten around the trigger of his gun.

  The shot sounded like a cannon had been fired, mainly because Clint had been hoping to keep things quiet. He knew there were still others in the camp and he didn’t want to bet that most of them were on his side.

  “Are you all right?” Rachel asked as she rushed to the cabin’s doorway.

  Clint wheeled around to aim at her out of pure reflex, but he lowered his gun as soon as he recognized Rachel’s face. “This one’s dead.”

  “And Dyani is tying up the man you left outside. That means Rice is still around here.”

  “Who?”

  “The man who brought me here from Fort Marsden. He’s still around here somewhere.”

  “Rachel, get down!” Clint shouted.

  Before she could move, she felt a gun barrel poking into her back.

  “No, you’d best stay put,” Rice said from behind her.

  Clint had seen the man approaching her, but only after it was too late to do anything about it.

  Standing with Rachel as a shield, Rice looked over her shoulder and even took a moment to smell her hair. “Drop that pistol,” he demanded.

  Clint lowered the gun slowly. “Anything you say.”

  The instant he felt the end of his barrel touch the top of his holster, Clint snapped the Colt back up and fired a shot. He didn’t have to look down the barrel. All he did was point his finger where he wanted the shot to go and years of practice took care of the rest.

  That shot blazed a path through Rice’s skull and left a vacant yet surprised look on his face. His arm hung to his side and then Rice’s finger clenched on his trigger to send his final shot into the floor.

  “Serves you right, you dirty prick,” Rachel said as she turned around and shoved him over. “I just wish I could’ve fired that shot myself.”

  “We don’t have time to make wishes,” Clint said. “We need to hurry up and get this place looking like it used to before the rest of those men get here. I got ahead of them, but it couldn’t have been by too much.”