Jailbreak

by Giles Tippette

  Lew said, shouting into my ear because of all the noise, “We ought to try and ketch some of them horses.”

  But I didn’t know about that. They were scattering in every direction, some of them galloping in fright from the noise of the guns, some trotting, stepping on their trailing bridles every so often. I said, “We’d just wear our animals out trying to chase them. Besides, they are a pretty poor looking lot as it is.”

  Lew said, “Well, we better figure to do something plenty fast. That one that got away is going to have a mighty pretty story to tell. We ain’t seen the last of these boys. I guarantee you we ain’t got enough ammunition to kill all the rurales in this state if they was to line up for us.”

  I looked down to where Capitán Davilla was sitting on the ground with a dazed look on his face. I said, “Looks like your friend didn’t want to help.”

  “Yeah, he taken a bad case of the tongue-tied at the wrong time.”

  “What was that you were yelling at those boys to get them to come on?”

  Lew shrugged. “The rurales and the federales hate each other, mainly because the federales think they are the superior bunch. So I yelled at them that they was just the two of us plus one more had captured all you prisoners and would it be asking to much, considering we was out of food and water and I knowed their bellies was stuffed with beef and beans, for them to give us a little help. He yelled back to ask if I was begging for help and I said if I was to ever beg for help it would be from some quarter where I might expect to get some, not from no pinche rurale. And so on like that. The more I jawed, the closer they come.”

  I nodded. It had been about what I’d expected. I said, “Well, y’all better get mounted up. Like you say I reckon we ought not to homestead this place. Every mile we make north today is one less we got to make tomorrow.”

  He left, but I just stood there staring at the dead men and horses. After a moment Ben joined me. He said, as if he knew what I was thinking, “You didn’t have no selection, Justa.”

  I sighed. “I know that. This just ain’t my kind of fighting.”

  “What choice did you have? They’d have shot the hell out of us or throwed us in a prison somewhere. And like you say, the majority of the Half-Moon family is here.”

  I shook my head. I said, “I hate it about those two wounded men.”

  “C’mon, now. That wasn’t your doing. And even if it had of been, what could you have done, taken them with us? Don’t talk loco. And they’d have died a hard death on that desert floor before any help came from their people. Hell, Justa, life’s cheap in this country or haven’t you taken notice?”

  I said, “I guess.” I turned and started down the embankment. “Let’s get mounted up and get moving.”

  We trailed down the east side of the railroad tracks, keeping the embankment between us and where I expected trouble to come from. Miguel was looking worse and worse, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. For that matter wasn’t any of us looking all that well. I glanced up at the sun; it was nearing its highest place in the sky, beating down on us like a boiling rain. I had dropped back in the pack so as to better observe horses and men. Hell, nobody had to lead, all we had to do was follow the damn railroad tracks. Looking at our party I could see the damage the sun and the miles and the hard use was doing. I could see the way the men were slumping in the saddles; I could see the sag in the horses’ backs and the way they drug their legs. About one more day of such going was going to finish us.

  Ben dropped back and rode alongside me for a moment. He glanced up at the sky. It was coming one o’clock. He said, “Ain’t we better call a halt and take a rest, Justa? Get some water and what food we got left?”

  I shook my head. My mouth was so dry I didn’t want to waste saliva talking. We had planned our water and provisions for just our party. We hadn’t planned on the surprise visit of Señor Elizandro and his boys. But who was going to deny them out in the big middle of nowhere?

  I said, “In a bit. Maybe an hour. We got to make some distance.”

  So we kept riding. About three o’clock I called for a halt. It didn’t matter where I did it; the terrain was the same in all directions, just barren plains covered with nothing much anyone would want. Even the horses, hungry as they were, just nosed at the greasewood and bramble bushes and mouthed a little bit of it for moisture without really swallowing. There wasn’t a tree in sight.

  We had no more water for the horses, but Hays passed around one of the two remaining canteens and we all had a drink. Canned tomatoes were all that was left of his stock, but I didn’t hear nobody complain. I certainly didn’t.

  After we’d rested for a time I called a conference between me and Ben and Lew. It was mean of me to leave Norris out, but I did it. He took one look at us palavering and then turned his back. I knew he felt the slight and I intended it. I said, “Anybody know what date it is?”

  They both shook their heads. Ben said, “Feels like about a week since we run out of Monterrey with the devil chasing us. But I know it hasn’t been.”

  I looked around. “Gentlemen, we ain’t equipped for this kind of country. Much longer and we ain’t going to have to worry about the rurales getting us. This goddam barren son of a bitch will do us all in.”

  Ben said, “I don’t think Elizandro is going much further. He’s got a fever, I reckon.”

  “Already?”

  “Feels like it. Anyway, he ain’t going to be sitting a saddle a hell of a lot longer.”

  I said, “Well, anybody got any ideas?”

  Lew shrugged. “I don’t see what we can do except keep plugging away.”

  Ben looked around. “I can’t believe there ain’t a goddam village or at least a little ranchito somewheres around here.”

  Lew said, gesturing, “There are, but they’re back toward those mountains, back where it rains every once in a while.”

  “But all those peons getting on and off the train coming down here. Hell, they got to live somewhere.”

  Lew gestured again. “They do. Back up near the foot of those mountains.”

  Ben said, “But, hell, those mountains must be fifteen, twenty miles away.”

  “They are,” Lew said. “Which is about what a peon can do in a day on a mouthful of water and a handful of corn. But even if we reached one of those pueblos chiquitos, those small villages, it wouldn’t do us much good. They ain’t got no horses and they ain’t got a hell of a lot of anything else. Boys, you better face it, this is rough country.”

  I said, “Well, I don’t know what to do—push the horses and have them crater or have the rurales catch us up by going slow.”

  Lew let a handful of dust run through his fingers. He said, “The rurales are going to catch us anyways because they is in front of us. All they got to do is wait. They are strung out from here to the border and I don’t reckon you got that line cut in time to keep them from being notified. We going to have to fight our way through.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Don’t try to cheer me up, Lew. You know I never cared for that sugar-tit way of thinking of yours.”

  He laughed. “Might not be so bad. Maybe you’ll get kilt in the next couple of hours. That way you won’t be thinking of how thirsty you are.”

  We kept going as afternoon stretched into night. I knew I should have rested the horses but I figured it took less out of them to plod along through the night than under that relentless sun. Though, truth be told, there wasn’t that much difference between the night and the day except you couldn’t see as well at night.

  If there had just been some kind of shelter—some small trees, a shack of some type. But there was nothing.

  The only advantage to that was that you could see the enemy coming as far off as he could see you. But through the balance of that afternoon and on into dark we fortunately did not catch sight of another living soul. Hell, we didn’t even see any buzzards. I figured that was because there wasn’t enough life on that desert to die and feed them. It wasn’t
a handy thought.

  Somewhere around nine that night I called for a rest. I asked for volunteers to stand guard while the rest caught a few hours of sleep. Norris immediately struggled up. I ignored him. I said, “I’ll take the first watch. Ben, you’ve got a timepiece. I’ll wake you in an hour. Then you do the same for Lew. After that comes Hays. We ain’t going to be overlong in this one place.”

  We made a cold camp, without a fire and without any food. Hell, even if we’d had wood to make a fire we wouldn’t have needed one because there was nothing to cook over it. Everybody made do with a good drink of water and turned in. I helped Miguel to get as comfortable as he could on the hard ground. Jack Cole was doing better, but Miguel wasn’t. He felt mighty warm to me. I took a look at his shoulder by the light of a match. It was swollen all to hell, but the outside didn’t look too infected. I figured what was killing him was the inside damage that bullet had done to the bone in his shoulder. He whispered to me, “Can you not do anything?”

  I shook my head. “Miguel, this is more than I can handle. There’s a slug in there. You want me to go burrowing around in your busted-up shoulder bone looking for it?”

  “Yes,” he said. But it come out like a sort of gasp.

  I said, “Then you got more guts than I do.”

  On the first watch I laid on top of the railroad grade, staring off in the distance in all directions, looking for movement of any kind. I wasn’t particularly sleepy, but I was so weary I could have laid down and not got up for a week. Looking down on the hard clay floor, I could see the rest of them jerking and shuffling around trying to get comfortable. We had the horses all tied to one loose-ended picket rope. But even that was unnecessary. Those poor beasts were so give out they wouldn’t have walked away if you’d taken after them with a bullwhip. I had no earthly idea how much longer they could last. I’d rode horses before with little water, but that had been in country that had some moisture in the air. Where we were the air just seemed to suck the fluid right out of your body. And the bigger the body, the harder it sucked.

  I tried not to think about Nora but she kept sneaking into my thoughts. For all I knew it was practically my wedding day. I hated to think what sort of thoughts she was entertaining about me at that instant. If I ever got to see her again, let alone have her marry me, I’d have to count myself lucky. Well, my duty to the family had come first, but, then, hell, she was family too. What I should have done was let Norris enjoy the comforts of Monterrey while I got myself hitched, took my honeymoon and then leisurely slipped on down and straightened out his trouble.

  But I hadn’t done that. I’d been so sure I could make a quick trip down, bluff me out a few little Mexicans and then be back home without supper even having a chance to get cold.

  Only it just hadn’t worked out that way. I didn’t know who I was madder at—me or Norris.

  After about two hours I went down and woke Ben up. He yawned and looked at his watch. “Went a little over your time, didn’t you?”

  “I’m too tired to sleep,” I said. “Call Lew next.”

  We didn’t have any blankets or bedrolls. There was nothing to do but take my slicker, lay it on the hard ground and rest my head on my saddle. I didn’t figure to really get all that much sleep.

  Next thing I knew Hays was shaking me awake. Anybody that could have slept under those conditions must have needed the sleep mighty bad. I sat up rubbing my eyes and tasting the cotton in my mouth. Hays said, “It’s goin’ on for four of the mornin’, boss.”

  I got up swearing. “Dammit, I didn’t want to dally this long. Rouse everybody. Pass the canteen around for a short drink of water and then let’s get saddled up and start moving. Goddammit, what do you mean waking me up so late? Did you go to sleep on watch?”

  He shook his head. “Not me, boss. It’s just the way it worked out.”

  Well, it couldn’t be helped now and it was probably just as well. God knows, everybody, especially the poor rode-down horses, could use the rest. I said to Hays, “You got any provisions left?”

  “Nary a thing,” he said. “Cupboard is bare.”

  “Then strip that pack saddle off the packhorse and put him on lead. He’s got a fresh back and we might need it before the day is over.”

  All around me men were getting up groaning and swearing. They eagerly took the canteen as it was passed around. Hays followed, making sure nobody got overly ambitious with the last of our water. I went over to Miguel Elizandro about half dreading what I was going to find. I don’t like to break a man out of jail and then have him die on me. But the caballero was sitting up and struggling to reach his feet. I took two quick steps to give him a hand. I’d just thought he’d had a fever the day before. Now there was no doubt. The heat just radiated off him. It was a sickening thought but I knew I was going to have to cut into him before the day was out or he wasn’t going to make it. I said, “Can you ride?”

  He gave me a look, sick as he was. It had been a damn-fool question. He didn’t have much choice. He had to ride unless he wanted to leave his bones to bleach where we stood.

  One of his men had saddled his horse and brought it over. Together we assisted the don into his saddle. He made it without a lot of cries or moans, but a blind man could have seen the pain in his face.

  After that I went to see about Jack Cole. Norris was helping him to mount so I hung back until Jack was in the saddle and Norris had gone on about his own business. I tell you, I was getting madder and madder at Norris. It’s one thing to be a damn fool where you’ve only got yourself to hurt; it’s quite another to endanger a whole lot of other people by acting like one. Of course his answer would be that nobody asked me to come down and rescue him, or to even get involved for that matter. Well, me and Mr. Norris Williams was going to have an accounting and in the not-too-distant future. That is if any of us made it out of the mess alive.

  Just as I was about to go to Jack I saw one of Elizandro’s men strike a match to light a cigarillo. I struck it out of his hand as quick as I could. “You damn fool!” I said lowly but with as much force as I could get in my voice. “No lights!”

  Then, just in case anyone else was about to get the same harebrained idea, I said, “No lights! No matches! No smoking!” I was going among them, whispering but making it urgent. “And be as quiet as you can. Sound carries a long way on this desert at night. Now let’s move out. We got miles to make.”

  I swung into my own saddle and got us started down beside the track. After a little I reined back to where Jack was riding sort of hunched over in the saddle. I asked after his condition. He gave me a kind of wan smile. “Tell you the truth,” he said, “I been better.”

  “That gunshot kicking up?”

  He shook his head. “Naw, since you reamed it out it’s been considerable better. It’s just sore now. Onliest thing I can figure out is wrong with me right now is I’m gettin’ too old for this foolishness. Been a long time since I was this give-out an’ thirsty and hungry.”

  I said, knowing I was lying, “Well, it won’t be long now.”

  He just gave me a little smile and said, “Bullshit, Justa. You better go kid somebody else. I live down in this country.”

  Sometime before dawn we saw a light far off in the distance. Lew said, “Train’s coming.”

  “Everybody get away from the tracks,” I said. “Hurry! That thing might be full of soldiers.” I led them in a shambling trot a hundred yards until we were far back in the darkness. The train suddenly came roaring past us, rattling and shaking the earth. A few of the horses skittered and trembled but they were too tired to do much of anything.

  It was just an ordinary passenger train and we watched in envy as the lighted windows flew past. One in particular took my eye. It appeared to be the dining car and I could see people through the lighted windows eating breakfast and drinking coffee. Coffee! God, I reckoned I would have killed for a cup of coffee and a drink of brandy.

  After the train was gone we stared after it in envy
. Ben said, “Don’t you wish you were on that?”

  I shook my head. “Going the wrong way.”

  But it had put a thought in my head, one that I couldn’t do anything about right then but that I might could make use of if we got lucky and the right set of circumstances happened. We rode on.

  The sun got up and began to beat down on us. But, mercifully, the broad plain remained empty of uniforms. Once I thought I saw a little file of white-clad peons but they were too far away to be sure. And even if we could have gotten to them they wouldn’t have had anything we could have used.

  About nine of the morning I halted us and went to the rear where Lew was riding with his sullen capitán. Though by now the capitán didn’t look so much sullen as desperate. I think he’d already figured out that whatever happened to us was going to happen to him and he’d better hope we did good. I said to Lew, “Listen, that packhorse is about the freshest animal we got. I want you to put your saddle and bridle on him and scout on up the tracks. I’m going to stay here and rest these horses and men for about an hour and then we’ll follow along slow.”

  He swung out of the saddle and started undoing the cinch. He said, “Got any idea what I’m looking for? Rurales? Water? Food? Shelter?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “How far you want me to go?”

  I shrugged. It wasn’t a question I could answer. I said, “That will pretty well depend on your horse. Say you can get five miles in an hour and a half. With us coming your way that’ll give you an hour back to us. I don’t know what to tell you if you run into any police, but you got the uniform for it.”

  He was starting to saddle the packhorse. He said, “Hell, I’m a capitán, ain’t I? Maybe I’ll order them to give me their horses. Who knows?”

  I said, “Just don’t take any chances.”

  He laughed. “Aw, no, I wouldn’t do that. It’s so damn safe and secure back here with y’all.”