Utah Terror : Utah Terror (9781101606971)

by Sharpe, Jon

  Fargo went to tell Mai Wing about the blacksmith, and realized someone was missing. “Where’s your grandpa?”

  “He went to a healer for herbs,” Mai Wing revealed. “He should return soon.”

  Fargo told her about Bannon and his buckboard, ending with, “You can say adios to this place forever. I’ll help you gather up whatever you’d like to take.”

  “Whatever made you think I would leave?”

  For a moment Fargo was dumbfounded. “How in hell can you stay after what the Tong did to you?”

  “My grandfather is here. My friends are here.” Mai Wing shook her head. “I cannot go.”

  Fargo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You ran away earlier.”

  “They were chasing me. I would have snuck back later if they hadn’t seen the smoke from your fire and caught me.”

  “You’re not safe here, damn it.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Fargo gestured at the sisters. “What about those two? Do they want to stay too?”

  Mai Wing put the question to the siblings. “They say they will accept your gracious offer,” she translated their response.

  “They have more sense than you do.”

  “If you were in my shoes I doubt you would run,” Mai Wing countered. “Why do you hold it against me for doing what you would do?”

  Fargo had no answer for that. He leaned against the wall while she poured tea for the sisters. He admired her grit, but if Han got his hands on her again, there was no telling what the little monster would do.

  Someone rapped on the door.

  Fargo placed his hand on his Colt.

  Mai Wing brushed past, saying, “There is no need for that. It will be my grandfather.”

  She was right. The old man entered and chattered at the women.

  Mai Wing looked crestfallen. “He says the healer wasn’t in,” she reported. “He’ll have to go back in a while to see about the herbs.”

  “It might be best to forget about them,” Fargo cautioned.

  “No. You can see how poorly the younger Pou is doing. Without them she might die.”

  “If it’s not chickens, it’s feathers.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Nothing,” Fargo said grumpily. He could have done with some coffee. He asked if there was any to be had and she relayed that her grandfather only drank tea. “Figures,” he muttered.

  The old man, Fargo noticed, was wringing his hands and acting as nervous as a canary in a room full of cats. He attributed it to harboring the women.

  Then the Ovaro whinnied.

  Fargo darted to the window and warily peered out without showing himself.

  Dark figures were closing on the cabin. The Tong had found them.

  13

  Even as Fargo set eyes on them, a tremendous crash shook the front door and a pair of brawny hatchet men spilled into the room.

  One of the Pou sisters screamed.

  The foremost Tong saw Mai Wing and moved toward her, raising his hatchet.

  Fargo shot him in the head.

  The second Tong glanced over and rushed him, letting out a cry of rage.

  Fargo shot him in the chest. At his elbow the window shattered in an explosion of glass shards and a thrown hatchet arced past his face. Pivoting, he beheld two Tong just outside. He shot them both.

  Mai Wing yelled a warning.

  Yet another Tong was coming through the front door. He whipped his arm back to throw his hatchet.

  “Drop it,” Fargo warned, extending his Colt.

  The man hesitated.

  “You don’t have to die,” Fargo said.

  Mai Wing said something, apparently translating.

  The Tong glanced at her and then at Fargo. He started to lower his hatchet, or pretended to. With a shout, he suddenly straightened and his arm arced.

  Fargo shot him before the hatchet left his hand.

  Grabbing at his face, the Tong took a faltering step and folded.

  In the silence that ensued, Fargo’s ears rang. Mai Wing stared at the dead Tong. The Pou sisters were crouched in fear.

  Over in a corner, the grandfather gaped aghast at the slaughter.

  Fargo went to the door. They didn’t have a lot of time. The gunshots would bring more. He hastily reloaded, snapping over his shoulder, “We have to leave. Now.”

  “I told you I’m not going,” Mai Wing said.

  “You stay and they’ll kill you,” Fargo predicted. He motioned at the bodies. “Han won’t let you live after this.”

  “They must have followed us without us knowing,” Mai Wing said.

  “No,” Fargo said. “Your grandfather brought them.”

  “That cannot be,” Mai Wing said, and turned to the old man. The look on his face said all there was to say.

  “Grandfather?” she said in English, and switched to Chinese.

  Fargo went out and around to the Ovaro. He figured if he could get them to one of the pockets of woodland that dotted the canyon floor, they’d lie low for a couple of hours and he’d take them to the blacksmith’s after things quieted down.

  Mai Wing was in tears. She came to him and placed her hands on his chest. “You were right. He told them where I was.” She sobbed, and caught herself. “He betrayed my trust for money.”

  Fargo remembered a comment Lo Ping made when they first met. “Five will get you ten he’s the one who sold you to Madame Lotus.”

  Shock set Mai Wing back on her heels. She looked at her grandfather and more tears flowed. “How could he do this to me?” she said, to herself more than to Fargo.

  “We have to go.”

  Mai Wing blinked and dabbed at her eyes. “I am sorry. Yes. More of them will come.” She went to the sisters and helped them to stand. As they came toward the door, her grandfather barred their way.

  The grandfather pointed at Mai Wing and said something and she looked at Fargo.

  “He says that if I were a dutiful granddaughter, I would let the Tong take me to the House of Pleasure.”

  “Tell him to get the hell out of your way.”

  “He says he won’t.”

  “Fine,” Fargo said, and drawing his Colt, he slammed it against the old man’s head. Not anywhere near hard enough to kill but hard enough that the old man sprawled unconscious.

  Mai Wing stifled a sob. “I love him so much. He was all the family I had left in the world.”

  They hurried out.

  Fargo had her explain to the Pou sisters what he was about to do, then swung each up and over the saddle. With the sisters clinging to each other and Mai Wing at his side, he headed west along the canyon wall until they came to a stand of trees.

  “This should do us for a spell.”

  Fargo helped the sisters off. He untied his bedroll, spread out his blankets, and through Mai Wing, told them they were welcome to lie down and rest. They gladly accepted.

  Shucking the Henry from the saddle scabbard, Fargo moved to where he could see their back trail. He doubted the Tong would attempt to track them at night, but better safe than dead. Hunkering, he set the rifle across his lap and wearily rubbed his eyes.

  Soft footfalls heralded Mai Wing. She eased down next to him and whispered, “They are asleep already.”

  “You should try to get some rest yourself.”

  “I’m too upset over my grandfather. The pain doesn’t help, either.” She bent nearer. “There is something I would like to know.”

  Fargo was straining to hear sounds from the vicinity of the cabin.

  “Why did you come for me? And this time give me an honest answer, if you please.”

  “One of the Hu brothers hit me over the head and left me lying in the dirt.”

  �
��What does that have to do with me?”

  “The Hus work for Han.”

  “I still don’t understand. Unless you are saying that by saving me, you get back at him for the indignity of being laid low.”

  “That’s as good a reason as any,” Fargo said.

  “All this is to you is revenge? I do not believe it for a minute.”

  Fargo shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Mia Wing put her hand on his knee. “Thank you. I am in your debt. Whatever you ask of me, I will do.”

  “Remind me of that after you’ve healed up,” Fargo said with a grin.

  An occasional voice and once the sound of laughter drifted to them from Hunan. Then there were shouts, and lights bobbed up and down the main street and along the side streets.

  “The Tong are searching for us.” Mai Wing stated the obvious.

  “We’re safe enough here.”

  “They will not rest until they find us.”

  Fargo grunted.

  “Han will want your head. He can’t let you live after you have killed so many of his hatchet men. The rest would resent it.”

  “I aim to deal with him, too.” Fargo sensed she was studying him in the dark. “Don’t make more of it than there is.”

  “You are one against many.”

  “Chop off a snake’s head and the snake dies.”

  “Should you succeed in slaying Han, Lo Ping will assume his place.”

  “Two heads, then.”

  “I wish I had your confidence. I have never been very strong.”

  “You stood up to Han.”

  “Only because I refuse to let men I do not know run their hands over me. It is my body. I should have a say, don’t you think?”

  “No one should touch you if you don’t want them to,” Fargo agreed.

  “Isn’t that in your— What do you call the document? Your Constitution?”

  “I don’t know as there is anything in there about touching.”

  “You haven’t read it?” Mai Wing asked in surprise.

  “I had a little schooling when I was a kid and the teacher talked about it some. But, no, I’ve never read the thing. What I remember most is that I have the right to wear this.” Fargo patted the Colt. “And any son of a bitch who says I can’t will eat his teeth.”

  “Maybe I am mistaken,” Mai Wing said. “Maybe the touching is in your Bible. The Ten Commandments, I believe they are called. Do you know them?”

  “I recollect my pa going on about honor thy father and thy mother,” Fargo quoted. “And there’s another one that we’re not supposed to kill.”

  “Yet you do.”

  “When an Apache comes at me with a knife in his hand or one of those Tong with his hatchet, you’re damn right I do.”

  “So you are not what Americans would call religious?”

  Fargo thought of all the women he’d made love to and all the whiskey he’d sucked down and the countless hours he’d spent playing poker and the enemies he had bucked out in gore. “Most folks would say I’m anything but.” He paused. “Why the hell are we talking about this?”

  “I am sorry if I have upset you,” Mai Wing said contritely. “I just want someone to talk to. So I do not think of . . . what has happened.”

  “Flap your gums all you want then,” Fargo said, feeling guilty.

  “Do you think your God is mad at you for killing?”

  Fargo looked at her. “You ask the strangest damn questions. How would I know what God thinks?”

  “My people do not believe as your people do. But if there is a God, I find it strange that God said we should not kill when God kills. We are born but to die—is that not so?”

  “Damn it, woman,” Fargo said. “My head is about to explode.”

  “Again, I am sorry. You do not like to talk about these things, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  In the quiet that followed they could hear yells and saw dozens of lanterns flitting about like oversized fireflies.

  “They will go through the entire camp from end to end.”

  “Likely so.”

  “Would you mind if I used you as a pillow?” Mai Wing asked.

  Before Fargo could answer, she shifted and lowered her head to his leg and placed her cheek on his thigh.

  “Is this all right?”

  “Fine,” Fargo growled. It was a shame, he reflected, that they couldn’t make love. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

  “Should the Tong kill you, I will burn incense in your honor and remember you until the day I die.”

  Fargo supposed she meant that as a compliment of some sort. “Get some sleep.”

  Mai Wing was still a bit, and then said softly, “Before this is over, there will be a lot more killing, won’t there?”

  “A hell of a lot,” Fargo said.

  14

  The passage of the Big Dipper and the North Star through the heavens was as reliable as the hour hand of a pocket watch.

  It was about one in the morning when Fargo shook Mai Wing’s shoulder. She awoke with a start and sat up and blurted something in Chinese.

  “Calm down,” Fargo said. “You’re not in the House of Pleasure, remember?”

  Mai Wing looked around in confusion. “Oh,” she said. “For a moment there—” She smoothed her hair and her top. “I apologize.”

  “For what?” Fargo said. “After what you went through, it’s natural.”

  “Is it time?” she asked.

  “Almost.” Fargo had to have them at the blacksmith’s by one thirty. He rose and helped Mai Wing stand.

  The Pou sisters were sound asleep, each with a cheek on the arm of the other.

  Fargo let Mai Wing wake them. They were slow to rouse, and the younger was still in great pain. While they collected themselves, he rolled up his blankets and tied his bedroll on the Ovaro.

  The night was practically silent. The shouting in Hunan had died down and fireflies no longer flitted here and there.

  Fargo gave the sisters a boost onto the saddle. The younger could barely walk and the other was so weak, she would tire in no time. Mai Wing wasn’t much better off but she was tougher and insisted she could keep up.

  They traveled along the canyon wall until in Fargo’s estimation they were abreast of the stable.

  A side street brought them to the main one, and a bridge that would take them across the stream.

  Not a soul was abroad. Nearly all the buildings were dark.

  That included the blacksmith’s.

  Fargo tried the front door but it wouldn’t open. He went around to the side, Mai Wing at his elbow, the Ovaro’s hooves clomping dully.

  The buckboard was still there, a space in the bed clear for the sisters. The horse was dozing.

  Fargo went to the back door. It was open a crack. He pushed and entered and whispered Bannon’s name several times.

  There was no reply.

  Puzzled, Fargo went back out. “I reckon he’ll be along any minute,” he told Mai Wing. He helped the sisters down and they sat next to the wagon with their arms around each other.

  Minute after minute crawled by until they had been waiting half an hour.

  “Where can he be?” Mai Wing whispered.

  Fargo had no idea. He noticed one of the sisters shiver even though it wasn’t all that chilly and suggested they go into the shop to wait. “We’ll be out of the wind.”

  Bannon’s living quarters were to one side. The room was crammed and untidy but there was an old couch the sisters gratefully collapsed on.

  Fargo was tempted to light a lamp but didn’t. It would have given them away. He moved to the front door, threw the bolt, and opened it a hair. He wasn’t surprised when an ar
m brushed his.

  “Am I right in thinking something is wrong?” Mai Wing asked.

  “Maybe he changed his mind with all the ruckus,” Fargo mused. It could be that Bannon had decided to delay leaving for a day or two.

  “But why is he not here? Where would he go at this hour?”

  A notion came to Fargo. “I have an idea. Keep watch over those other two for a while. I won’t be long.”

  “Where are you going?” Mai Wing anxiously asked.

  “The O’Briens’.” Fargo figured that was the logical place to look. Bannon and the family were friends. He slipped out and worked his way to their house without once seeing a living soul. Hunan might as well have been a ghost town.

  The O’Brien house was as dark as every other.

  Fargo climbed the steps and knocked. Not too loudly, so the neighbors wouldn’t hear. No one came so he knocked again. Once more, nothing.

  Stepping back, Fargo cast about for small stones. He found a few and stood under a second-floor window and threw one. It struck the glass with a clack. He had to throw three more before the curtain moved and a silhouette appeared. There was the rasp of the window being raised, and Terrence O’Brien poked his head out.

  “Fargo? Is that you, boyo? What in God’s name are you doing here at this ungodly hour?”

  “Looking for Tom Bannon,” Fargo whispered up.

  “Why would he be here?”

  “He’s not at his shop. I didn’t know where else he might be.”

  “Hold on. I’m coming down.”

  Fargo waited at the door. It wasn’t long before the bolt rasped and it was jerked open.

  O’Brien had donned a bulky robe and slippers. He stepped out and closed the door after him. “I don’t want to wake Noirin. She’s been having bad nights of late and can use the sleep. Now what’s this about Tom?”

  Fargo explained about the women waiting at Bannon’s.

  “Dear God. Then that commotion was about you? We saw Tong going door to door but they never came to ours.”

  “Strange,” Fargo said. He would have thought that their place was one of the first Han would look.

  “As for Tom, the last I saw him, he was dead set on leaving tonight.”