Pistolero Justice (A Piccadilly Publishing Western

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “Alguien nos suige,” he said to Angel. “Somebody is following us.”

  Angel stood up in his stirrups. “To the rear, patron?”

  “Yes,” Raul replied. He pointed westward. “And over there as well. See?”

  “Oh, my God!” Loretta exclaimed. She understood what was happening through the gesture of the two men. “Who is it?”

  “They might be Rurales,” Raul said.

  “Who are these Rurales?” Loretta asked.

  “A form of police,” Raul answered. “I hope that’s who it is.”

  “I hope so too,” Loretta agreed in a worried tone. “But they could be someone from Mazatlan or Selva Vista.”

  “I doubt that,” Raul said.

  “Let us stop and see if they are bandits, patron. Another victory for us, eh?”

  “Who knows?” Raul said. “Those people are still a long way off. But there must be plenty of them to kick up that much dust.”

  “Give me a gun,” Loretta pleaded.

  Raul remembered what Angel had said about suicide. “No.”

  “I want a gun!” Loretta insisted.

  “If it becomes necessary, I’ll give you one.”

  “I know how to use one if that’s what’s bothering you,” Loretta argued. “I’m certainly not going to accidently shoot either one of you.”

  Raul thought quickly. If the pursuers had been hired by the Mazatlan or Selva Vista crowds, and they took Loretta back, no second rescue would be possible under any circumstances. Perhaps the girl would be better off dead. She obviously preferred that to life as a prostitute. Raul pulled his backup Smith and Wesson from his belt. “Here, Miss Slattery. Can you handle a revolver?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Do you have a holster for this thing?”

  “No. You’ll have to hold on to it.”

  Loretta took the weapon. “Somebody may end up paying dearly for this torment.”

  “It could be we’re worrying about nothing,” Raul said. “But let’s prepare for the worst.”

  ~*~

  Scouts from the distant riders caught up with them late in the afternoon.

  “Mackenzie! Queremos hablar contigo — we want to speak with you.”

  Raul waved to the riders then motioned Angel and Loretta to continue on. Angel let Loretta get a short distance ahead of him, then followed, standing in his stirrups with his carbine at the ready.

  Raul drew his pistol, and rode up to the two men who had hailed him. “State your business.”

  “Hey, is that a nice way to greet old friends?” one of them asked with a grin.

  “I do not know you,” Raul stated.

  Both men immediately brought their empty hands into full view. “Sure you know us,” the thinner one said.

  The first rider nodded enthusiastically. “We drank tequila together, remember? On Demonio’s porch. I am Tomas and this is Flaco. We talked and had a lot of laughs.”

  Raul vaguely recalled the pair from the day he and Angel had visited the bandit camp. Now he knew El Demonio was following them, and he was upset. “What do you want?”

  “Put away your pistola,” Tomas said. “That is not a friendly way to act.”

  “State your business I said.”

  “Demonio is coming,” Flaco stated. He pointed to the dust clouds drawing closer. “He wants to escort you home to show his friendship for you.”

  “Sure, amigo,” Tomas said. “Demonio likes you. Remember he saved your life, eh? Flaco and I were there too.” As he spoke he allowed his horse to drift farther away from his companion.

  Raul caught the casual movement. “You two stay close together.”

  “What for?” Flaco asked. “Besides my friend smells bad.” Both bandits broke into laughter.

  Raul swung his pistol over to Tomas. “Move back close to your compañero or I’ll shoot you.”

  “I do as I please!” Tomas exclaimed in anger.

  Raul quickly fired, and the bullet hit Tomas’ chest knocking him from his horse.

  Flaco glared at Raul, his face contorted with rage. “Hijo de la chingada!”

  Tomas, laying on the ground, yelled out at the sight of his bloody chest. “What did you kill me for?” Then he added in broken English, “I din’t do something to you!”

  Raul ignored the wounded bandit, directing his full attention to Flaco. “You ride back to Demonio and tell him I do not need any help.”

  “You are an unreasonable hombre,” Flaco stated in a tone of indignation.

  Tomas started to move but stopped as Raul once again aimed his pistol at him. The injured man had a worried expression on his face. “You are not going to shoot me again, are you, Mackenzie?”

  “Keep your hands clear of your pistol and I will not.”

  “I do not feel very good,” Tomas complained.

  Flaco abruptly drew and fired. He missed and Raul quickly responded with a quick pull of his own trigger. The bandit’s head exploded, and he slid off the back of his horse.

  Raul raised his pistol as Angel and Loretta galloped up. Angel was disappointed. “I missed a fight. Que lastima!”

  “Get their guns and ammunition,” Raul ordered. “We are going to have a real challenge from here on out.” He repeated what he said in English for Loretta’s benefit.

  Angel began gathering the bullet belts from Flaco as Raul dismounted and went over to Tomas. He, too, was dead, evidently having bled his life away while lying on the desert ground.

  “Vamanos!” Raul snapped as he handed Tomas’ pistol and ammunition belt to Loretta. “Take this and give me back the Smith and Wesson.” He stuffed the backup revolver back in his belt. “Let’s go! It’s all or nothing from here on out.”

  Raul knew the large number of bandits were closing in fast. Within twenty minutes a running gunfight gradually developed. The volume of fire increased steadily, though it was obviously meant more as a threat than deadly force. The bullets whistled overhead rather than close to them. It was a sure sign that El Demonio didn’t want the girl harmed.

  Raul glanced at Loretta, noting the desperation on her face. Now more of El Demonio’s men began closing in from the flanks. It was obvious the bandit leader had carefully planned the chase, purposely sacrificing Flaco and Tomas to buy time. Raul regretfully had to admit the tactic was proving successful.

  Angel pulled away from Raul and Loretta, slowing down to make aimed shots at the pursuers. Suddenly he seemed to leap up from his saddle, then collapse over his horse’s neck. Raul, forgetting Loretta for the moment, slowed down to join him. Angel looked up, his face streaked with blood. He bravely smiled and waved Raul on, then slipped from his horse to fall to the sandy ground.

  Loretta fired the dead bandit’s weapon, but couldn’t hit any of the pursuers. Two of El Demonio’s men closed in on her and forced her horse to a stop.

  Raul charged into the nearest bandit and the two went to the desert floor both kicking and struggling. Raul was on his feet first and delivered a kick to his opponent’s face. As the bandit rolled over bellowing in pain, another rode his horse into Raul slamming him to the earth. The breath was knocked out of him and he struggled to his feet in a vain effort to keep fighting. Within seconds he was surrounded by newly arrived bandidos. He swung his fists desperately but a sudden blow on his neck from a carbine butt felled him, knocking him into unconsciousness.

  “Hey, Raul Mackenzie, como estas, eh?”

  Raul’s eyes seemed to be sealed shut. He struggled to open them as a faint voice grew more persistent, penetrating the comfortable veil of darkness he rested under. But the black covering began melting and breaking up until the face of El Demonio shimmered into a dull focus. The bandit chief’s features became sharper until Raul was fully awake.

  “I asked how you were, Raul Mackenzie.”

  Raul tried to get up, but was too dizzy. Then he noticed his hands were tied. He sank back to the ground and caught his breath.

  “Why are you so stubborn?” El Demonio asked. “You kil
led two of my men. That makes me sad.”

  Raul suddenly remembered his own companions. “Where is the girl?”

  “She is not far away,” El Demonio said. “Do not worry. No one will harm her.”

  “And my amigo?”

  “He is laying out on the desert as dead as my two men,” El Demonio said. “I would feel safe to assume their three souls are now burning in hell as they begin their eternity of torment by cursing each other.”

  Raul felt genuine grief for Angel Moreno’s death. The youngster had proved a worthy companion and loyal comrade. Raul’s mind was now fully cleared. “Let us not waste time, Demonio. Just what are you up to?”

  “I want that girl,” El Demonio said. “There is a big reward for her from Selva Vista. More than her own family can pay.”

  “There is no payment coming from Selva Vista.”

  “Do not worry,” El Demonio said. “I shall give you a share.”

  “It will be a share of absolutely nothing. The people down south have forgotten her.”

  “I know you are lying and being stingy with me, Raul Mackenzie,” El Demonio said with a tone of disappointment in his voice. “They sent out word by telegraph of their offer for her return.”

  “Do not tell me that you have a telegraph station up on that mesa of yours,” Raul said with skepticism.

  “Of course not. But I do not spend all my hard-earned money on pleasure. I have paid mordidas — bribes — here and there. Not only do I have protection in certain areas, but access to telegraphic services as well. How do you think I manage to avoid the Rurales who hunt for me? I pay to be informed when they come into my area. At any rate, there is a good offer from Selva Vista, and I will give you a fair share for your trouble. Agreed?”

  “I want to take the girl back to Arizona.”

  “What for? I guarantee you that my payment will be more than her family can afford,” El Demonio insisted.

  “Why are you being so generous with me?”

  El Demonio was uncharacteristically truthful. “Because I do not want trouble with the people of Rancho San Andres. So! Come now, give me your word and I will untie you.”

  “I said I want to take the girl back to her family. I will give you the entire reward for her safe return, plus anything else you want.”

  “Even that arrangement would not match the Selva Vista offer,” El Demonio scoffed. “Anyway, what do you care? You are not in love with her, are you? She is a whore, Raul Mackenzie. Many men have had her. She is soiled, understand? No matter what she was before — even if it were a nun — she cannot be redeemed.”

  Several moments passed before Raul spoke again. “I accept your offer.”

  El Demonio gave him a look of suspicion. “Perhaps you do and perhaps you do not. At any rate I no longer trust you. I am keeping a close watch on you until the people of Selva Vista send someone to get the girl and take her back where she belongs.” He turned to his men and issued quick orders. This was immediately followed by a flurry of activity as Raul was lifted up and set on Borrasca.

  After the entire group was ready, they set out for the camp on El Demonio’s mesa where this adventure had begun and would now end.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Resident fleas, roaches and lice welcomed Raul with immediate attention when he was ushered into the shack at the bandit’s lair. As soon as the door was closed and locked by the bandit guard, he rushed to the rickety walls and peered through the cracks in the boards. After a couple of moments of futile viewing, it was apparent that Loretta Slattery had been taken to another part of the camp.

  It had taken two days of hard riding to reach El Demonio’s mesa. During that time the bandits kept Loretta as far from Raul as possible. The only thing that fed Raul’s fighting spirit was the impelling desire to rescue the girl once more. If she was ever returned to Selva Vista it would be the end of her life; one way or the other.

  ~*~

  Raul spent several days in the crude shack both hating it and feeling lucky that as long as he was held prisoner it was a sure sign that Loretta was still in the camp. He once complained about the bugs in his temporary abode, but the guard, a talkative fellow named Chango, could see nothing much to grumble about.

  “What is the matter, Mackenzie?” Chango asked. “This shack is no different from any other dwelling up here on the mesa.”

  “You people must have attracted all the bugs for kilometers around,” Raul complained. “Surely the people living on the valley floor must be grateful to you for that at least.”

  “Perhaps,” Chango allowed. “But I owe you thanks, Mackenzie.”

  “For what?”

  “For my Chapina. She is the most beautiful woman up here. Much better looking than the skinny gringa you were trying to rescue.”

  Raul was puzzled. “I do not understand.”

  “Remember the fat fellow you killed before we caught you? His name was Tomas, and Chapina was his woman. Since he did not return she has agreed to become mine.”

  “Felicidades — congratulations. She sounds like a wonderful sweetheart.”

  “She is! Chapina is even fatter than Tomas was. A real beauty.”

  “I’m very happy for you,” Raul remarked disingenuously.

  He sat down and leaned against the wall to do some serious thinking. It was difficult to concentrate at the moment since Angel’s death grieved him deeply, but he forced himself to focus on the present problem. He would have to mourn his friend properly once Loretta was truly free. Angel would understand and approve.

  He was painfully aware that the one thing working against him now was time. In Selva Vista there had been the opportunity to plan things out carefully and methodically, but here only rash action would work; and that would take a lot of luck for any rescue attempt to succeed.

  ~*~

  The afternoon dragged by into evening, and by then Raul had come up with a scheme that was hopeless, careless and illogical. But there was no time for refinement. He feigned a dizzy spell and sudden weakness for Chango’s benefit. “What did they hit me with?”

  “I think one of the boys used his carbine on you,” Chango answered. “Demonio would not let us shoot you.”

  “Ay, Dios! I keep getting dizzier all the time. If I die here, it will be a violation of the agreement Demonio has with Rancho San Andres.”

  “You are not going to die, Mackenzie,” Chango scolded. “Do not be a lloron — a cry baby.”

  “I had better rest,” Raul said. “I am growing weaker.”

  “I thought you were a real tough hombre,” Chango said in disgust.

  “When am I going to get something to eat?”

  Chango shrugged. “I do not know. Maybe Demonio is going to punish you by not giving you any food for a while.”

  ~*~

  Darkness had fallen across the camp, and various fires were now lit, throwing a dancing illumination across the area. Chango banged on the door of the shack. “Your supper, Mackenzie,” he announced. “Maybe Demonio is not as angry with you as I thought.” A woman stood beside him with a bowl of frijoles and tortillas. The guard took the simple meal from her, and turned back to Raul. “Come on, Mackenzie. Here is your supper.”

  Raul tried to get to his feet. “Help me.”

  “Chingado!” Chango swore. He sat the food on the ground and opened the door to the shack. He walked over to the prisoner and gazed down at him. “Maybe you did take a hard knock at that.”

  Raul’s knuckles hit Chango’s solar plexus with deep penetration. The bandit’s breathing reflexes ceased enough for him to black out. Raul damned the luck the man had no carbine as he rolled him over. He took the bandit’s pistol, ammunition belt and knife. It was cold-blooded but there was no getting out of it. If the man was allowed to recover he would give the alarm. Raul took the knife and in one swift slice made it necessary for the desirable Chapina to look for another man.

  Now armed with pistol and knife, Raul carefully closed the door of the shack and took a round
about route around the edge of the camp. It was going to be risky and difficult to locate Loretta in the sprawling area.

  Most of the population was eating and drinking. Those not scheduled as lookouts for that night were evidently beginning their evening jags. Different guitars, each playing individual songs, clashed with each other over the noise of loud talking and occasional shouts. A drunken Indian was singing some sacred song from a nearby wickiup as Raul continued to explore the area.

  Within a half hour he reached the vicinity of El Demonio’s house. After finding a good spot in the shadows of nearby boulders, Raul squatted down to see what activities were going on in the vicinity.

  Bodyguards greeted visitors who were continually calling on their chief. El Demonio evidently held audiences in the evenings. But something caught Raul’s eye. There were two more guards at one rear corner of the rambling dwelling. They were in front of a door that was barred. A lantern burned nearby that faintly illuminated the scene. It was possible this was where Loretta was being held.

  Raul drew back farther into the deep darkness and eased around to a better place to approach the door. He eventually worked himself to a point where only a splash of light from a nearby window stood between himself and the dwelling. He took a deep breath and snuck across the empty space as rapidly as he dared.

  Several long moments passed until he was sure he hadn’t been seen. The next few minutes were going to be risky. Without hesitation, he stepped around the corner of the building and threw down on the guards.

  “Hands up! No movement and no loud talking,” Raul whispered. The pair were startled at the unexpected intrusion, but quickly complied. “Now,” Raul continued, “open the door!”

  “We do not have a key,” the nearest guard said.

  Raul pulled the knife and pressed it against the man’s throat. “Open the door or I will cut deep.”

  “Open the door,” the man whispered frantically to his friend.

  “Why should I?” the other remarked. “One loud noise and there will be a crowd here within seconds.”

  “Then I will have nothing to lose,” Raul reminded him. “So to cool my hot temper I will kill both of you.”