Richard watched the Captain with annoyance, waiting for his reply.
"This bastard is somewhat of a legend around these parts, and from what I can tell he's real hard to kill."
"What's the matter, Captain. You losin' your nerve?"
"No-no, I'm here for yah, Monty. All the men are in place and on alert. If we can just keep them sober, we'll be ready."
"Maybe we should send out a second revelry of men." suggested Richard.
The captain shook his head in the direction of no.
"The Seminoles call the half-breed Lus-Tee Manito Nak-Nee, means black spirit man, He's not goin' nowheres, he wants you dead, period. He'll come to us."
Montgomery stood up, the captain half-heartedly did the same. "I want you, Captain, to tell the men the bounty has just gone up: Two-thousand-dollars, in gold, for Hunter James Dolin's head on a stick."
"I'll spread the word. Gold has always been the best incentive to make someone dead. I might just go after him myself."
"Your job is to take care of The Miss Lilly," sternly replied Richard. "Which you have already been well paid to do."
"Don't you worry, Monty," replied the captain as he reached for the door handle. "My crew is ready and loaded for bear."
"That would be fine if we were huntin' bear, but we ain't huntin' bear, dammit." Richard followed the captain out into the hallway, "We need some way to flush him out into the open, some kind of trap, git him in a crossfire."
"What do you got in mind?" asked the one-eyed sailor, as he stepped aside allowing Richard to take the lead down the hallway.
"Come on outside and I'll show yah."
Their spurred boots clanked as they proceeded down the wood stairs to the first floor balcony at the back of the house that faced the lake. Montgomery was standing in the exact spot where he stood the night before, when Hunter had an arrow aimed at his throat. He had no idea how close he had come to meeting his maker.
It was mid-morning and cloudy with signs of rain. Montgomery stretched his neck and looked to the roof, where he could see two of the four men stationed there. Richard and the captain were standing by the railed stairs which led to the walkway to the dock, where the battle steamer floated proudly. Richard did not point as he spoke, in fear of being watched from a distance.
"We place a man with similar build and height as me, dressed in my clothes in plain sight, on the front deck of The Miss Lilly or the dock. If we can git the half-breed on the walkout between the dock and the house, we can hit him from all directions."
"I got yah," said the captain. "Men firin' from the roof of the house at his back with the Gatlin' guns firing from the boat to his front."
Richard looked out into the woods. "We put some men with rifles, spread out among the trees, staggered, firing at his side. If them damn fools don't shoot each other, I don't see anyone survivin' that kind of crossfire."
"I'll see to it," replied the captain. "You got someone stupid enough to dress like you, and stand there like a goat tied to a post as bait?"
"I got just the Mexican. We call him dumb-dumb. I'm the boss and he'll do whatever I tell him to." Montgomery lit a big daddy Cuban cigar that he pulled from his inside jacket pocket. "If he's still alive, and he comes, it will be at night. It's to his advantage to attack in the cover of darkness. Let the men sleep in shifts during the day at their posts. I'll have Chinn deliver grub throughout the day. I want everyone rested and alert when the sun drops."
The two men went their separate ways to put the finishing touches on their plans. It would be a long hot day and even a longer night. Richard suddenly felt very long-standing; at this point he did not care about the outcome, he just wanted it over and done with.
Chapter Seventeen
"Well," said Jebediah from his horse. "He's an easy man to track; he leaves dead men where ever he goes, like a trail of bloody bread crumbs."
"Jebediah, come look at this," hollered Walt as he was walking the grounds, his horse in tow by the reins held in his weathered hand.
Helen and Jebediah rode over to where Walt was kneeling and rubbing soil between his thumb and forefingers.
"There's blood here, not a lot. Over there," pointed Walt, "two men sat at that log side by side. They walked that way and collected their horses and left toward that away. This third set of tracks is Hunter's boots collectin' a horse here. He either got himself a couple of prisoners, or a tag-along."
"Hunter James ain't the type to take prisoners," commented Jebediah. "He must have recruited some friendlies," said Walt. "That would be good 'cause we can use all the help we can git." Walt mounted his horse. "Let's ride then. Jebediah, you lead the way; your eyes can track the ground from your horse better than mine."
Jebediah looked to Helen. "You ready to ride?"
"Don't you worry about me," she replied. "I'll keep up."
Helen was riding Zeke, the best horse of them all. She was wearing the dress she had grabbed when fleeing the big house. It was nothing fancy, which was good for riding. After taking draws from their water bags, they rode on.
Walt dropped back, taking up the rear putting Helen in the rocking chair of their little band. Jebediah led the way, only glancing to the ground occasionally. He did not need to follow the tracks; he knew exactly where the gunslinger was going. Jebediah did not speak it aloud, but he hoped revenge, disguised as justice, would prevail in the end.
* * * * *
Hunter and his new companions were traveling single file, nose to tail, toward Montgomery's big house on Lake Okeechobee. Bodie was on point, Birdie second, followed by Hunter. The gunslinger had an advantage from his position at the rear, in case anyone changed their mind. Not that he particularly didn't trust his two new allies, it was that he didn't trust anyone completely. Hunter figured Bodie was only interested in the gold and a way out for him and the boy, With a price on Hunter's head, he might figure it easier to shoot him in the back than to fight Montgomery's small army. Hunter didn't really believe this, for Bodie seemed to be an honorable man for the most part, but he hadn't lived this long by taking chances.
They had burned up most of the day bringing themselves to a clearing where they now planned their next move from their saddles. Side by side, they discussed their options.
"I think me and the boy could do more damage from the inside," explained Bodie. "We walk right in with a story."
"What story would that be?" asked Hunter.
"The truth would work I think. We just change the end a bit. Me and Birdie boy here were the last ones left, we held you off, you fled, and we high-tailed it back."
"Are you sure Montgomery will buy that story?" asked Hunter, "Sounds unbelievable to me."
"You're the infamous Hunter James Dolin, killing all those men is not only believable, it really happened."
The gunslinger replied, not with arrogance but with a matter-of-fact statement, "I meant will he buy the fact that you two got away."
Bodie just stared at this man for a moment, waiting for him to smile as if joking, but it didn't happen.
"He's got a point," said Birdie, adding to the conversation for the first time.
Bodie suddenly realized the legend of this man did not only precede him, it hovered around him like a shield. Bodie had turned away from God when his family was taken from him. But now, he felt there was a purpose for this mission – something more than just gold. As righteousness crept into his psyche, the thought crossed his mind for the first time that the boy and he might just get out of this alive.
"Don't you worry, Mister Dolin. I can be very convincin', besides, I have been his right hand for some time now. He would just assume to believe me than to cut it off."
Hunter rubbed his chin in thought. "All right, Bodie, is it?"
Bodie nodded in agreement.
"Against my better judgment, I've decided to trust you two. I sure hope you all don't prove me wrong, 'cause I hate bein' wrong."
"You won't be wrong, gunslinger," said Bode. "Montgomery is a d
isease that has plagued this southern state far too long."
"What do you think, son?" asked Hunter, turning to Birdie.
"You askin' me?" asked the boy with surprise.
The gunslinger nodded.
"I've always done what Bodie told me, but I do have my own mind. If Montgomery did what everyone says he did, then he's got it comin'."
The plan was set; Bodie and Birdie boy would ride in and attempt to convince Montgomery the gunslinger had left the area, as far as they could tell. At first thought, Bodie wanted to tell Richard they killed Hunter, but without his body or his head this would draw suspicion to them. Richard Montgomery was not a trusting man; he was a clever and calculating sort. The simpler the story, the less information for him to calculate.
Once they were inside, Hunter would wait one night or maybe two before he would attack, hopefully catching Richard's army tired and off guard.
Bodie and the boy headed toward the home front.
Hunter positioned himself in a thicket just inside the tree line, where he could observe with the spyglass. He removed the Bowie knife from its sheath and carved a stand for the telescope out of forked branches from a scrub oak, aiming it at the point of Bodie and his boy's entry into the camp. This freed up his hands, allowing him to check his weapons.
Whether Montgomery believed the men's story or not, he would be idle for some time. Hunter would stay at his current position during the night, but before sunrise, he would have to retreat further back into the swamp to avoid detection. He planned to return the next night and begin his assault.
The gunslinger was not anxious in the least; he ate jerky for nourishment more than hunger. His mind drifted towards the memories of his old friend Mat, "Your old ass would be happy, that I'm learnin' to work with a plan." Hunter's thoughts were interrupted by movement and he checked the glass. In his circular view, he could see Bodie leading the way as they rode in under torchlight. Montgomery's men surrounded them, cocking their rifles and pulling the hammers back on their pistols.
"Easy, boys, it's me, Bode."
The men didn't fire, but they didn't lower their weapons either. Montgomery came around to the back from the front of the house; the same arrogance he carried on his face could be seen in his walk as he approached.
Bodie found it hard to believe that after all his men the half-breed had killed, Richard still maintained this demeanor.
"Drop those hammers, men," commanded Richard. "You three in the back there, douse them torches on the perimeter behind yah. The only thing easier than hittin' a sittin' duck is hittin' a well-lit one. Wouldn't you say, Mister Bodie?"
"Yes sir, Mister Montgomery," replied Bode.
The three men used their gloved hands to smother out the burning lamps standing upright in their holders.
"I'm sure as I could be that we weren't follered during the daylight, the last hour of night, I can't be for certain."
"Where are the rest of your men, Bodie? And more importantly where is my Lilith and the half-breed's head?"
"I'm sorry to say, the half-breed got away with the woman."
Some of the men could be heard and seen, grumbling and looking around nervously. Richards' brow narrowed with a look of distrust as he listened to Bodie's story.
"Me and the boy here just got plain lucky."
"And the rest?" asked Richard.
"All dead, sir."
"Explain, and it best be good, as you know my patience runs thin."
Bodie began to speak; Richard put his hand up palm first and insisted, "I want to hear it from the boy."
For the first time, Bodie felt a tinge of nervousness creep up his back. He looked to Birdie with a nod that said, Well go ahead, and don't screw it up or we're both dead.
"Yes sir, we were riding on the outskirts lookin' for signs, we heard gunshots, and by the time we got back to camp they were all dead. I ain't never seen nothin' quite like it."
"Oh, I have, son. I've seen first-hand what that savage is capable of. I just find it hard to believe you two somehow survived."
"Like I said," chimed in Bodie, "we got lucky."
"Yeah, lucky – I heard yah the first time." Montgomery and his right-hand man stared at one another for a few seconds, then was broken only by Richard's demands, "All right men, back to your posts. You two, come to the kitchen with me, get some hot food in yah, then I want to hear more on what went on out in that bog."
"Yes sir, Mr. Montgomery," said Bodie, as relief flowed through his body. He made sure that this feeling stayed masked within him.
Well, he bought it, for now, thought Hunter as he watched from afar. He made a decision right then to move deeper into the swamp, in case they made a sweep of the tree line. The gunslinger retrieved the horse he had borrowed from one of his well-deserved victims, and moved on, leaving his new allies to fend for themselves.
Chapter Eighteen
The moon was shining bright this night, giving off sufficient light for Jebediah and Walt to read the gunslinger's tracks. They both knew where he was headed anyhow, following his trail just gave them a more direct route.
"They split up here," said Jebediah. "Two horses went that-a-way, straight into the lion's den."
"I 'spect we got two workin' from the inside," said Walt. "If Hunter trusted them, I guess we will too."
"I don't see we have much choice in the matter," replied Jebediah. "But my name ain't Daniel."
"What the blazes does that mean?" asked Walt with annoyance.
"It means, I ain't just gonna' ride into that camp with the lions."
"Then what do we do now?" Helen asked from her mount, located behind the two men.
Jebediah ignored her for a moment. "We need to foller the single horse tracks off into the swamp and find Hunter. I don't think he'll be none too happy we brought the young lady along."
"I don't see how you two had a choice, unless you tied me up as a prisoner," Helen spouted.
"Don't think that thought hadn't crossed my mind, little lady," replied Jebediah. "Come on, we need to git movin'. It'll be daylight soon."
"Yeah," agreed Walt. "In daylight right here, we'd be sittin' ducks."
"Yeah," replied Jebediah, "then our goose would be cooked."
Walt chimed in, "That's a foul thought you're thinkin' there, Jebediah."
The two old men broke out in laughter as they followed Hunter's tracks deeper into the swamp.
Helen rolled her eyes, wondering if she was safe with these old coots – old coots – this thought tickled her, and she began to laugh right along with them. She realized she had not laughed in a very long time, and she rather enjoyed it. For the first time in recent memory, she felt hope for a new start on life. The gunslinger's image came into her mind, sending a tingling feeling down to her toes. Helen blushed as she put her hand to her lips with embarrassment. She thanked God for the darkness that hid her feelings from being known as she followed her new friends – in search of the man she realized she was already falling in love with.
* * * * *
Just past sunrise Hunter James was having his morning meal in a clearing in the middle of some cypress. The ground was moist; as dry as you'd find in this part of the swamp. It was cloudy and fairly cool, storms could be seen and heard off in the distance. Between the peals of thunder, Hunter heard a faint but familiar sound. Son-of-a-bitch.
There was no doubt in his mind as the sound became louder and more frequent. They came through the cypress trees into the gunslinger's clearing, one after the other.
"What the hell?" asked Hunter, as he stood and walked over to Zeke and stroked his long nose as the horse whinnied again. Hunter looked up to Helen and their eyes locked. He noticed she was looking at him differently somehow.
"I told yah he wouldn't be none too happy," said Jebediah.
Walt attempted to explain, "We tried to do what you told us, but she is very stubborn and she has a rifle, she's younger than we are too…"
"Walt, stop," said Jebediah.
Walt gave Jebediah a glaring stare, but said no more.
"Well, there's nothin' to be done now," said Hunter. "You might as well eat. We got a long night ahead of us and we need to rest up."
Hunter's little army dismounted and joined him. The food was cold, for they could not risk the smoke from a fire. The gunslinger explained what happened at the posse's camp and the recruitment of his new friends. He told them of what he planned to do, the showdown would be tonight, and it was kill or be killed. Hunter could use the help, but he didn't want anyone doing anything they did not want to do.
"Are you sure you two are up for this?" asked the gunslinger.
"What the hell," replied Jebediah, "can't live forever. Besides, I figure killin' that Montgomery would be doin' the great state of Florida a favor."
"What about you, Walt? What are you thinkin'?"
"I'm thinkin' I'd rather drink turpentine and piss on a brush fire, but what the hell, I'm in. What am I gonna' do, ride out by myself like some coward?"
"What about me?" asked Helen as she looked to Hunter.
Jebediah and Walt looked to Hunter as well, for this was his show, and it was clear to them she was his woman, even if he didn't see it quite yet.
"We're goin' in on foot; I need you to stay with the horses just outside the tree line, in case things go badly."
Helen didn't protest, not even a little, for she knew this was going to be a bloody little war. She grew up tough and she knew how to shoot, but the men they were going up against were scraped from the bottom of the barrel. Helen knew this from experience, and Richard Montgomery was the worst. She would save her last bullet for herself, rather than fall into that man's rule once again.
They ate jerked beef, drank water from leather bags, and Walt and Jebediah shared a bottle of whiskey. When they offered Hunter the brew, he just gave a look. Without a word spoken, his steely eyes said much. The old warriors took one more sip and stored the bottle away. Ten hours before sunset, they would go into battle with a clear head.
Jebediah wondered if that was his last drink on this earth.
Hunter James Dolin Page 10
