by Sean Hazlett
Tony nodded.
“Good. Now I suppose you want to hear my plan.”
“That would be nice.”
“I’ll dispatch a platoon two miles ahead of our column as an advance guard. Two more platoons will screen our flanks, and the last will travel with the main body of your wagon train. I expect the journey to Baker to take two days of hard riding. Once we arrive, we’ll establish a laager site long enough for you to finish your business. Then we’ll set out again for Primm.”
“That easy?” Tony said in a tone that suggested anything but.
Fitzhugh dipped the brim of his Stetson. “That easy.”
After a comfortable night in the casino, Tony’s caravan headed southwest at dawn.
~~~
“Why have we stopped?” Tony shouted as he stepped out of the wagon and into the blinding sun. He put on his sunglasses to get a better look. The column had stalled in a deep desert valley. On the horizon, a desolate brown mountain stretched from north to south.
Tony shuffled past at least twenty troopers until he reached the front of the formation. There, Captain Fitzhugh was conferring with his five lieutenants. As soon as they saw Tony, the conversation died.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Tony put the question squarely to Fitzhugh.
The captain clenched his jaw and glared at Tony for ten awkward seconds. It was as if Fitzhugh was trying to save face in front of his officers by showing Tony who was boss. “One of my patrols found something in Clark Mountain Pass out by the old Molycorp open-pit mine.”
Tony wiped sweat off his brow, then took a swig from his canteen. “I thought that place was abandoned?”
“It was, I mean is. Before the invasion they used to mine most of the world’s rare earth metals there,” replied Fitzhugh.
“Rare earth what?”
“Rare earth metals: things they used to build hand-held communications devices and televisions.”
Tony just nodded as if he understood, even though he didn’t have the faintest clue what Fitzhugh was talking about. Not even a scholar like Father Serra had ever mentioned anything about rare earth metals. “Okay, well what did ya find?”
“I think it’s best if I just showed you.”
“Fine. But Joey and Milkshake are coming with me. Mind if I catch a ride on your horse, Captain?”
Fitzhugh looked at Tony as if the younger man had just whipped his dick out. “You mean you were born and raised in this godforsaken desert and never learned how to ride a damned horse?”
Without skipping a beat, Tony said, “Nah, that’s what I hire you people for.”
Fitzhugh rolled his eyes, but ultimately nodded. Tony climbed on the captain’s horse. Then Tony whistled behind him and yelled, “Joey, get Milkshake. You two are riding with us into the Pass.”
As the group traveled along the I-15 Trail, they passed three shining towers near the foot of Clark Mountain. The towers cast an eerie violet light onto the desert floor.
Tony pointed at the structures. “The hell are those?”
Fitzhugh smiled. “Those used to be concentrating solar thermal plants, but the Regiment has secured them for our own purposes.”
“What purposes?”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Fitzhugh said.
Eight miles later, Tony, Fitzhugh, Joey, Milkshake, Lieutenant Drummond, and two other troopers hitched their horses to stakes outside a chain-link fence with a faded warning sign posted on it. Beneath the word “Warning”, the sign read, “Detectable amounts of chemicals known to the State of California to cause cancer, birth defects, or other reproductive harm may be found in and around this facility.”
As soon as he realized he was grabbing his crotch, Tony immediately released his grip. He checked to see if anyone had noticed. For the first time ever, Tony detected a slight smirk on Joey’s face. Tony scowled at the mute and pressed forward through the gate.
After making their way up a pitted asphalt path, the group reached the top of an immense dirt mound and greeted a trooper who waited on the edge of the open-pit mine.
“Where is he?” Fitzhugh said ominously.
Despite the raging heat, the faces of the two troopers looked ashen. “We put him under a tarp down there.” The trooper pointed to the pit beyond.
Fitzhugh said, “He still alive?”
The trooper nodded. “But honestly, sir, I don’t think he’s got much fight left in him.”
Fitzhugh turned to Tony, “Mr. Genovese, you and your associates can come with me now.”
Tony, Milkshake, and Joey followed Fitzhugh into the open-pit mine, where they went down several terraced benches chiseled into the pit’s walls. When they reached the bottom, the trooper led them to a shaded area.
An eyeless face greeted them.
Tony approached the man and reached out to touch him.
The trooper who’d led them into the pit shook his head. “That’s not him; that’s his skin.”
Tony yanked his hand away in revulsion. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the human mask resting on a mound of torn flesh.
Fitzhugh put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “It’s a message.”
“Where’s the rest of him?” Tony said.
The trooper pointed to a quivering tarp about ten feet away.
Tony dry-heaved. Then got a hold of himself. “How...how could someone survive that?”
The trooper casually lifted the tarp. A man lay shivering there as if caught in a snowstorm. His muscles were slick with coagulating fluid; his eyes wide with what Tony could only describe as horror.
The place stank like shit. And when Tony looked down, he realized it smelled that way for a reason.
Fitzhugh handed the flayed man a canteen. The poor fellow could barely hold it as he drank, water spilling onto his bloody chest.
“What the fuck?” Tony turned away from the atrocity.
Joey regarded Tony with apparent contempt, as if Tony’s reaction was an embarrassment to the Five Families.
“What happened here, son?” Fitzhugh said with the compassion of a father caring for one of his children.
The man whimpered. “Have you seen Sandy? Please tell me, have you seen her? Please.”
“I’m sorry, son. We haven’t seen Sandy. But we promise we’ll take good care of her if we find her. What’s your name? Who did this to you?”
“Adam,” the man panted. “They came at night. I was running supplies from Vegas to Baker. They took me and Sandy from our wagon just outside the old Primm Valley Golf Course and brought us all the way out here.”
Fitzhugh stroked his beard, then faced Tony. “Seems they got kidnapped about twelve miles northeast of here and about four miles from where the caravan’s sitting right now.”
“Why’s he shivering?” Tony asked, “It’s hot as fuck out here.”
“Your skin helps regulate your body temperature,” Fitzhugh answered. “Without it, the body struggles to retain its warmth.”
“Looks like the People of the Sun are ranging farther and farther into our territory,” Lieutenant Drummond said, changing the subject.
“We don’t know for certain it’s the People of the Sun,” said Fitzhugh. He shifted his attention back to Adam. “Tell us more about the people who did this to you. We could use that information to find Sandy.”
“They...they wore white cloaks. They forced me to lay in the sun for a day. Then they skinned me with sickles.”
Fitzhugh again faced Tony. “They do that for a reason, you know. Keep them out in the sun, that is. As the sun roasts the skin, it gets looser; easier to remove.”
“Jesus H. Christ.” Tony kissed his crucifix and made the sign of the cross.
Shifting his attention back to Adam, Fitzhugh continued his interrogation. “Did they say anything to you?”
“Don’t know. They spoke Spanish.”
Drummond nodded emphatically. “They’re definitely the People of the Sun.”
“You’re right,” Fitzhugh said, “bu
t there’s something off here. This isn’t their usual MO.”
“What da ya mean?” said Tony.
Fitzhugh crossed his arms. “Well, after skinning a man, they usually eat him. Instead, they left him here. This feels off. Way off.”
“Is there anything else you know that might help us find Sandy?” Fitzhugh asked Adam. “Like where they went or how many of them kidnapped you?”
Adam gasped. “I don’t know where they went. But there is something else. Something terrible. But you won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
“The...the people who did this to me...they bowed to it...”
“Bowed to what?”
“Something...that descended from the sky. It. Spoke. To. Me.”
Fitzhugh knelt down beside Adam. The flayed man seemed more rattled than ever. “What spoke to you, son?”
By now, Tony was pacing. It was his way of working off stress. But he couldn’t contain it any longer. His eyes shot daggers at Adam. “Jesus Fucking Christ! Spit it out, man!”
Fitzhugh held up his hand as if to signal calm. Then he continued, “Adam, tell me what spoke to you.”
The man’s eyes welled with tears. “It...it was a winged thing...a snake man...it first spoke to me in Spanish. When it was obvious I didn’t...understand, it switched to English. It said, ‘The age of sapiens is at an end, for my kin shall inherit the Earth.’”
Now Tony was about to burst a blood vessel. “This is fucking bullshit.” He stomped over to Joey. Tony started pushing him and shouted, “Tell me what’s in the box. What’s in the fucking box?”
Fitzhugh stood up and marched over to Tony and Joey, inserting himself between them. He pushed back at Tony. “Mr. Genovese, you need to calm down. The last thing we want to do is attract attention.”
Leaning against Fitzhugh, Tony shouted over the captain’s shoulder at Joey. “C’mon, Joey, what’s in the box? What’s wrong, you piece of shit, tongue-tied?”
Joey glared at Tony.
Fitzhugh grabbed Tony by the collar. “You need to control yourself. We’re more than half way to Baker. Before you know it, we’ll be finished with this mission.”
Running his fingers over his scalp, Tony turned and walked away from Fitzhugh and Joey to catch his breath.
“This is bullshit. That box better be fucking important for us to go through all this crazy-ass shit,” Tony said.
Fitzhugh returned to Adam. “What else?”
Adam grasped Fitzhugh’s arm with his bloody hand. “Please, no more. Kill me.”
Fitzhugh hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He unsheathed his saber and decapitated Adam on the spot.
Tony and Milkshake looked away. The incident didn’t seem to faze Joey at all.
“You don’t believe any of that shit, do you?” Tony said to Fitzhugh, secretly hoping for agreement.
“The People of the Sun definitely carved him up, but I don’t believe any of this feathered serpent business. Out in these parts, I hear all sorts of stories. Some are even true. I’ve heard about sightings of all manner of things ranging from chupacabras to coyote men to winged serpents. I’ve read reports about ritualized human sacrifice, flaying, and cannibalism. But actually speaking to a winged serpent? That’s a first. I’ve been ranging this desert for ten years and I’ve never seen anything like that. No, sir. This is nothing but the delusions of a dying man who was obviously in shock at having the skin stripped from his body.”
Tony breathed a sigh of relief.
Fitzhugh raised his index finger. “That’s not to say we should take the threat posed by the People of the Sun lightly. These people are serious about their beliefs. They’re a death cult based on the darkest ancient Aztec traditions. We need to keep our heads on a swivel. Now let’s mount up and get the hell out of here.”
~~~
The piercing sound of a bugle roused Tony from a dead sleep. Men outside shouted in the darkness. Horses neighed and whinnied.
Fitzhugh stuck his head into Tony’s wagon. “Get up. We need every swinging dick outside right now!”
Tony rubbed his eyes. “The hell’s going on?”
Shaking his head, Fitzhugh said, “The People of the Sun raided our camp. They’ve got one of my men!”
That got Tony’s attention.
“Shouldn’t we wait till morning? You could lame some horses by riding around in the dark.”
“Morning’ll be too late. I don’t want those savages to keep one of my troopers for a second longer than necessary.”
“But Captain, your contract says you have to escort me to Baker. If you wanna send a small detachment to find your boy, that’s one thing. But we’re not stopping or going somewhere else to recover just one guy.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Genovese. If my soldiers see me do anything less than move heaven and earth to rescue one of them—dead or alive—they’ll never follow me anywhere. And if they won’t follow me, they sure as hell won’t follow you.”
Tony hated to admit it, but the man had a point. “Fine. How about we keep our base camp here, and you leave behind the bulk of your force to defend it. Take a platoon and find your trooper. We’ll wait here until you do. Sound like a plan?”
With the stubbornness of a desert burro, Fitzhugh shook his head. “Not good enough. I’m taking three platoons to recover my boy. I’ll leave the fourth one with you. That’s the best you’re gonna get.”
Tony gritted his teeth. He had an overwhelming urge to beat the piss out of Fitzhugh, but the captain had him by the short and curlies. “Fine. Do what ya gotta do.”
Fitzhugh nodded. “I’ll be gone no longer than two days.”
“Two days!” Tony nearly exploded. He took a breath. “Two days is too long. I’ll give you one.”
Fitzhugh chuckled. “I’ll see you in less than two days.” Then he left Tony to stew in the wagon.
~~~
Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue Tony had in abundance. He paced back and forth beside the wagon under a sweltering midday sun. But the long wait got him thinking. What was in the box Boss Milano wouldn’t let anyone but Joey see? And why didn’t Milano want Tony to see it? The more Tony thought about it, the more it really nagged at him.
He ducked his head into the covered wagon, where Milkshake was wiping his nose with a bloody rag. “You okay, kid?”
Milkshake nodded. “Sorry. It’s that infection I was telling you about. Comes in fits and starts. I was standing here and my legs went numb. Then I fell face first.”
“You gonna be all right?”
“For now. Though it’d certainly help if you got me one of them guidebooks.”
“Good.” Tony smiled. “And I’ll see what I can do about getting something for you to write with.” Tony motioned for Milkshake to exit the wagon. “Come out here. I got something else for ya.”
Tony put his arm over Milkshake’s shoulder and walked him out into the desert out of earshot from the rest of the caravan. “Do you know where Joey keeps that cardboard box?”
Milkshake pinched his nose to staunch the bleeding. “Yeah. He keeps it in the left rear corner of our cargo wagon.”
“All right. Good. Here’s what I want you to do. I’m gonna call Joey over and talk to him. While I’m doing that, I need you to peek into the box and tell me what’s there.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Tony screwed up his face. “I don’t think you quite understand how dangerous this game is. If Joey sees you checking out his box, he’ll gut you like a pig.”
“Don’t worry,” Milkshake said, smiling. “There’s no need to call over Joey.”
“What are ya talking about, kid? I’m calling the plays here. Not you.”
Milkshake shook his head. “No. You don’t understand. You don’t need to call him over ‘cause I already checked it out last night.”
Tony flashed Milkshake the biggest shit-eating grin he could. “You are one hell of an enterprising mo-fo.” Then Tony lowered his voi
ce. “What’s in the box, kid?”
A man squealed. Another trooper fell from his horse. A spear impaled yet another.
“Get down!” Tony grabbed Milkshake and dove into the dirt. A hail of spears zipped all around them. Tony peered up and saw dust churning along the hills. A steady rumble echoed in the distance. A bugle sounded the call of assembly.
Lieutenant Drummond yelled, “Form a line on me!”
The platoon wheeled their horses into one steady line facing the charging marauders. Drummond raised his saber, then pointed it forward, shouting, “Platoon. Forward. March.”
The platoon advanced at a walk. Mounted horsemen wearing coyote pelts rode out of the dust clouds. Five hundred yards from the enemy, Drummond shouted, “Line will attack!”
The cavalry’s pace quickened to a trot. The men drew their sabers. The raiders facing them were armed with sickles and flat clubs or paddles with black jagged edges.
As the cavalrymen drew closer to the enemy, Tony guessed the desert raiders outnumbered his allies by at least three to one. He wasn’t feeling good about Drummond’s chances.
When the two sides were about fifty yards apart, the bugle sounded the call to charge. The cavalry broke into a gallop.
Now that the spears had stopped landing around the wagon train, Tony and Milkshake got back on their feet. Tony had to make a quick decision. Should he rally his men and join the battle, wait until the cavalry wore down the raiders and then attack, or circle the wagons and defend them?
By now, the cavalry and the marauders were doing their best to slaughter each other. For Tony, the decision was easy.
“Listen up!” Tony shouted. “We don’t have much time. Circle the wagons and prepare to defend yourselves against the raiders. I’m hoping the troopers hold out. But I’m gonna be honest, it’s not looking too good for them and Lieutenant Drummond.” Tony smacked his hands together. “All right. Let’s get moving.”
His associates organized the wagons into a semi-circle that bulged toward the raiders. Then his men grabbed spears and shoved them into the ground at an angle to blunt the mounted charge Tony knew would come. Once everything was set, the men charged their crossbows and hunkered down for a fight.
