“Dinna let ’em get yer goat, laddie,” McKirk said to Beck. “They dinna know what they’re talkin’ aboot.”
“No, but they are right about one thing,” Ned put in. “We can’t all go to sleep. One of us is going to have to be awake all the time. Tom, how ’bout you take from now to midnight, John Angus from midnight till about four, an’ I’ll take from four till dawn.”
“All right,” Beck agreed.
Ned and McKirk spread out their own bedrolls and lay down to listen to the dark orchestras of crickets, the monotonous thrum of frogs in bass counterpoint. The prisoners continued to talk, trying to taunt the men. Their taunts began to fade in fervor against the marshals’ deliberate wall of silence. Then Newsome tried a new tactic.
“Hey, Bill, you remember that little ol’ girl we had our way with? How old was she, did you make it? ’Bout twelve, thirteen, maybe?”
“Naw, she were older’n that. She was tittied up purt’ good, iffen you recall. She were fourteen, maybe fifteen.”
“Them purt’ little ol’ tits don’t mean nothin’. Hell, I seen lots o’ girls gets tits at twelve, eleven even. This girl weren’t no more’n twelve. Oh, but she was fine, warn’t she?”
“Iffen you was to ask me, I liked the mama the best,” Flatt said. “I don’t like them little ol’ girls with little bitty tits. Now the mama...she was round ’n soft, and knowed what it was like to have a man ridin’ ’er.”
“You know what I liked?” Gerner added. “I liked lookin’ into Parkhurst’s eyes whilst you fellas was puttin’ the boots to his wife and girl. Then, when we cut his throat with that there knife, why, he just—” That was as far as Gerner got, because Beck kicked him in the face, knocking loose a handful of teeth.
“Hey, what the hell? You gone crazy?” Newsome shouted. Beck leaped on Newsome then and started pounding him in the face with his fists.
“John Angus! Get him off!” Ned said. “Pull him off before he kills one of them.”
“Kill them? By God, I’m going to cut their livers out an’ feed raw meat to ’em as they’re dyin’!” Beck swore. He jumped from Newsome to Kimmons and punched Kimmons in the nose. Kimmons’s nose had been broken by Ned in the fight the night before, and he let out a bellow of pain when Beck hit him there again.
“Here, easy, laddie, easy,” McKirk said, moving quickly to pull Beck away from them. “Would ye be cheatin’ the hangman out of his show, now?”
“Did you hear them, John Angus? Did you hear what they was talkin’ about?”
“Aye, laddie, I heard, an’ it’ll be those same words I’ll be speakin’ before His Honor’s court too. They stand convicted by their own foul tongues, don’t ye see?”
“They better watch what they say from now on or I’ll be on them ag’in,” Tom said.
“Yes,” Ned said. “And you’ll be doing what they want you to do. They’re tryin’ to get you to lose your temper so you lose control. Now come on, Tom, you been around long enough to know better’n that.”
Beck was panting heavily, looking at the three men he had attacked. Gerner was conscious but still spitting teeth. Newsome’s ear was bleeding, and he was complaining that Beck had nearly torn it off. Kimmons was holding his nose and moaning quietly. Only Flatt had escaped Tom’s wrath.
“Don’t let that crazy man around me,” Flatt pleaded.
“If you don’t want him on you, I advise you to keep your mouth shut,” Ned said.
“Aye,” McKirk added. “Could be that the next time I’ll be helpin’ the mon ’stead of pullin’ him off.”
About an hour after that, Ned, who had been sleeping, was awakened by a rifle shot. He sat up quickly.
“It’s all right, Marshal,” Beck said quietly. “Our company’s just shooting in the woods to make us nervous. They don’t have any idea where we are.”
“We’re over here!” Newsome shouted.
Ned cocked his pistol, and the sound of the cylinder turning could be heard very clearly. The click of the gear locking into place froze the prisoners into silence.
“You call out again and you’re a dead man,” Ned said quietly.
McKirk got up and stretched. “’Tis aboot time I took my turn, I’m thinkin’.”
“You got another hour if you want,” Beck offered.
“Nae. ’Twould do no good to try an’ go back to sleep now; this disagreeable mon saw to thot.”
“Woke you up, did I? Well, what a shame,” Newsome taunted.
“You’ll nae mind if I take a pee before I start my watch?” McKirk asked. He walked over to stand above Newsome, then began relieving himself on the prisoner.
“Hey! Hey, what the hell are you doin’?” Newsome shouted, spitting and coughing.
“Oh, woke you up, did I? Well, now, what a shame,” McKirk said.
Ned and Beck both laughed.
“If the rest of ye gentlemen are listenin’,” McKirk said, “I want ye to know I intend to kick the teeth out of the next mouth that calls out. An’, Flatt, for ye I’ll be chargin’ a dentist’s fee besides, for it’ll be an improvement to that ugly mug of yours.”
There was some quiet grumbling from the prisoners, but it was soon evident that none of them wanted to try the Scot’s patience any further.
“Ned. Laddie, ’tis your time,” McKirk said, gently shaking Ned.
Ned sat up and stretched, then looked toward the prisoners.
“Sleepin’ like babies they are,” McKirk said.
“Heard anything from our tagalongs?”
“Nae a sound. I think they’ll be waitin’ till light before they try their next move.”
“You’re probably right,” Ned said. “All right, Scottie, try an’ get some rest.”
“Aye. Laddie, I tell ye, I’ll be sleepin’ a week when we get back, an’ woe to the man or woman who wakes me.”
Ned smiled. That was as close as McKirk had ever come to saying that there was a woman living out in his cabin with him.
Ned walked over and found a seat on a tree stump, then looked out into the forest. He saw the soft glow of swampfire, listened to the thrum of bullfrogs, the calls of whippoorwills. Behind him he heard the snores and measured breathing of the other men, and he wished he could return to his own bedroll and go back to sleep.
McKirk was right...this trip was turning into one long period of exhaustion. Whoever was out there waiting for them had to know that, and they had to know that exhaustion was their ally. Most likely they would make their move tomorrow night.
Ned got up and walked over to his saddlebag. He took out a piece of dried beef, then returned to the tree stump and began chewing on it. He wasn’t hungry, but eating would help wake him up. Once he was wide awake he would have no trouble staying that way.
Ned thought about the next night. Tired as they all were now, it would be worse then. They wouldn’t be at their best tomorrow night. All right, then, he declared. They wouldn’t wait until tomorrow night. He would make something happen during the day. He wasn’t sure what it would be, but he would figure something out.
McKirk was asleep now and began to snore loudly, and Ned thought about him peeing on Newsome, then chuckled. McKirk was not a man you got on the wrong side of. A lot of men never learned that until it was too late.
Chapter 14
It was too dark to trail the marshals any farther, so Athens told the others they would have to find a place to camp. They decided to camp on the high ground so they could look around tomorrow before they left, to see if they could spot Remington and the others. They left the trail and started loping up a nearby hill when they happened onto a little house looming blackly in the dark.
“Hey, Athens, do you see what I see?” Brewster asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Yeah,” Athens answered. He sniffed. “Smells like we’re just in time for supper too. Come on, boys, let’s go visitin’.”
They rode up to investigate, their horses moving quietly and blowing steamy spools of fog in the chill night air. Finding the house seemed to be
a stroke of particularly good luck. Marshal Remington and his deputies were out in the chill night air, while Athens, Brewster, Jack, Curly, and Poke would be spending the night in a warm house. That would make the marshals even more tired and less alert. When it came time to hit them, the advantage would be with the attackers.
Quietly, the five men approached the cabin. Then, with guns drawn, they kicked the door open and burst in.
There were three people in the little cabin: a man, his wife, and their daughter, a girl of about seventeen. They were sitting around the supper table, but the man got up and started for the fireplace, reaching for a rifle that hung from pegs over the mantel.
Jack cocked his pistol and pointed it at the old man.
“Sit down, Pops,” Jack said.
“Oh, Eb!” the woman cried. “Do what they say!” The daughter said nothing. She just looked at the men through big, frightened brown eyes.
Poke walked over to the table and grabbed a piece of meat from the platter. “This looks good,” he said.
“What is this?” Eb demanded angrily. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Who we are don’t make no never-mind,” Athens said, tearing into the meat. “We need us somethin’ to eat an’ a place to stay the night.”
“You...you’re welcome to the food,” Eb said. “An’ you can stay in the lean-to out back. It’s got straw an’ a roof ’case it rains.”
“We plan to stay in the house,” Athens said.
“Papa, they can’t stay in the house,” the girl said. “Where would they sleep?”
“Haw! Well, now, Brewster, the girl wants to know where at we’ll sleep,” Curly said. He grabbed himself, rubbing his crotch. “Here I was thinkin’ it was gonna be a long, cold, lonely time up here tonight. ’Pears I was wrong about that. I reckon these two ladies will keep us warm.”
“Le’s see what they got,” Poke said. He grabbed the girl’s mother and ripped her dress down the front, exposing her breasts. Jack did the same thing to the girl.
“Get away from them!” Eb shouted. He picked up the meat knife from the table and started after one of them, but Athens clubbed him over the head with the butt of his pistol and Eb went down, knocked cold.
“Tie ’im up, gag ’im, and put ’im in the corner,” Athens said. He looked at the two women, who were now trying, unsuccessfully, to cover themselves. Athens grinned evilly. “Now, you two’ns is gonna do what we want. Iffen you don’t, we’ll kill your man.”
“Please, don’t kill him,” the woman begged.
“You gonna be good to us?” Athens asked. “Real good?”
The woman nodded her head as tears slid down her cheeks.
“What about you, girlie? I ain’t heard nothin’ from you.”
“She’ll do what you say,” the mother promised.
“I want to hear it from the girl.”
“Rose, for God’s sake, girl, if you want your pap to live, do what they say.”
“Is it gonna hurt, Mama?” Rose asked in a weak, frightened voice.
“It won’t be more than you can bear, chile,” the mother said gently.
“All right, I’ll do it,” the girl sobbed.
The cold rain began before dawn and continued to slash down on the small, weather-beaten cabin perched precariously on the edge of a deep hollow. The back door of the house opened, then slammed shut, and Jack Kimmons hurried through the dark and the rain to check on the horses which stood under a lean-to, some thirty yards distant from the main building.
Even the horses would be fresher than the horses Remington and his deputies were riding, Jack thought. He saw their mounts standing patiently, waiting for another day’s work. There were no better horses than those raised in the Nations. The Creeks and Choctaws, especially, valued good horseflesh. If they couldn’t buy good mounts, they would steal them.
Subconsciously, Jack reached down and felt himself. He was spent and satiated from his times with the woman and her daughter. Both had lain absolutely still, accepting without protest his shoving, grunting, and slobbering over them last night. The woman and the girl had been the same with the others, making no effort to fight them off as, one after another, the men took their turns with the two hapless victims.
Jack told himself it wasn’t really rape. They didn’t have to beat the woman into submission... all they had to do was threaten to kill the old man. To save his life, the women allowed Jack and the others to have their way with them, to do whatever they wanted to do. The only sounds the women made during the whole night were their pitiful entreaties to spare the old man.
The old man said nothing at all. He couldn’t speak, because he was tied and gagged and left in the corner to watch while Jack and the others used his wife and daughter.
They forced the women to fix breakfast for them, and when Jack returned to the kitchen it was filled with the rich aroma of coffee. Athens was leaning against the sideboard drinking a cup while he watched the two women. The mother and daughter looked haggard and drawn as they worked. Neither had been able to get a wink of sleep last night and, though neither had been beaten, they both looked as if they had been whipped. The old man was still sitting in the corner, still bound and gagged, looking on with eyes that were alternately filled with hate for the invaders of his home, compassion for his wife and daughter, and shame for being unable to protect them from such a thing.
“D’ya check the horses?” Athens asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. “They’re fine.”
The girl opened the oven and tried to remove a pan of biscuits, but she was so frightened she forgot to use a pot holder. She burned her hand and dropped the biscuits on the table with a shout of pain.
“Girl, don’t you know a biscuit pan is hot whenever it comes outen the oven?” Poke asked.
“It warn’t hot, Poke. It just didn’t take her long to look at it,” Brewster said, then laughed at his own joke.
“Iffen you want some eggs I’ll have to go out to the nest,” the woman said. “See what we got.”
“Yeah, eggs would be good,” Curly said.
“We ain’t got time,” Athens said. He grabbed a biscuit, broke it open, and laid a couple of pieces of bacon on the steaming bread. “Jus’ make yerself a couple o’ bacon an’ biscuits, then we’ll be on our way.”
“You’re leavin’, then?” the girl asked.
“I know it’s gonna break your heart to see me go,” Jack teased. “But we got some business to tend to.”
All the men scooped up the biscuits and bacon, then trooped out to their horses. They started to mount up; then Athens stopped.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“You know we can’t leave the old man,” he said. “He knows this country better’n we do—he could get that long gun o’ his’n an’ lay up some’eres and pick us off one by one.”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “You’re right.”
“Which one of you wanna take care of it?”
“I’ll do it,” Jack said.
Jack went back to the house and pushed the door open. The two women had already taken the ropes off Eb, and he was starting toward his rifle. Jack smiled.
“I reckon Athens was right.”
“No!” the woman screamed as she saw Jack raise his pistol. Jack shot the man just as he reached his rifle. He laughed as the woman and her daughter ran, crying, toward the slumped figure.
“Come on!” Athens called. “It’s light... they’ll be on their way by now!”
Under the cluster of trees where they had spent the night, Ned and his group mounted up for the day’s ride. They were wet, and cold, and tired, but they had one more full day and night ahead of them. They were all wearing oil slickers and wide-brimmed hats to keep out the rain. The road they had planned to follow was covered with water and flushed with mud, so that it wasn’t much easier than the forest trails they had been on the day before.
McKirk stood in his stirrups, scratched his crotch, then settled back again. He looked towar
d Ned. “D’ya hear that shot a while back?” He squirted a stream of tobacco juice toward a mud puddle, where it swirled brown for a moment, then was quickly washed away.
Ned took off his hat and poured water from the brim, then put it back on to cover his wet hair. He reached down and patted his horse soothingly.
“Yeah, I heard it,” he said.
“Warn’t no hunter,” McKirk said. “That was a pistol shot.”
“I know. What I don’t know is what they were shooting at. Or why.”
“Maybe they got in a argument, one of ’em shot one of the others.”
Ned chuckled dryly. “That’d be a good piece of news,” he said.
“What’ll we do next?” McKirk asked.
“We’re not gonna follow the road,” Ned said. “We’re cuttin’ off up at Burlington, headin’ for Kirbyville past Murderer’s Rocks.”
“Sartin ambush there,” McKirk pointed out.
“That’s why we’ll do ’er. Better to have it out than fight shadows.”
Beck passed out a strip of dried beef to each prisoner. Gerner, whose mouth was sore and missing several teeth from his encounter with Beck the night before, complained.
“I can’t eat this. I ain’t got no teeth left for to chew.”
“Gum it,” Beck said without compassion.
“They left the road here,” Poke called out to the others. “See, they went off thataway.” Poke pointed due north. The road, though headed in a general northerly direction, made a slight swing to the east here. It was obvious from the tracks that Remington and his group had gone straight.
“Where you think they be headed goin’ that way?”
“That’s a puzzle, all right,” Poke said. “They be wantin’ to get on up to Galena; maybe they be joinin’ the road ag’in up ter Omaha.”
“Naw. They wouldn’t do that,” Athens said. “They’d go faster stickin’ to the road. They won’t want to cross the river twice.”
“Could be they’re headed for Murderer’s Rocks,” Jack suggested.
“Murderer’s Rocks!” Athens said. He smiled broadly. “Boys, we got ’em right where we want ’em. We can set up a ambush there, pick ’em off one at a time.”
Good Day For A Hangin' (Remington Book 2) Page 12
