Brade grunted. "Never thought I'd hear myself say I'm obliged to have the likes of you agreeing with me, Ludek. But what we're both pushing for is the only way that makes sense. We got to fight our way out. Now. Tonight."
"Maybe we should put it to a vote," Veronica suggested.
Brade's lip curled nastily. "You can vote all you like. But there's only one ballot that's going to count—let's not forget who's ramrodding the outfit in charge here." His hard gaze swept back and forth across Kendrick, Ludek, and Veronica. "We might all be pointing our guns in the same direction for the time being, but that don't change the rest of it. Once we're shed of these Apaches, make no mistake how things still stand between us. So if I say we're riding out of here, we're all riding out and we'll finish our business in the river valley. That clear enough?"
"What's clear is that you're a stubborn fool," Veronica said.
Brade smiled, a cold show of teeth with no humor in it. "You were pretty good with that Winchester in the fight, lady," he said. "But not so good we'd miss your trigger finger all that much if we had to make our dash out of here without you."
"Wait a minute," Kendrick said. "What if I've got an alternative that still gets us out of here tonight but cuts the odds against us to a fraction of what they'd be your way?"
Brade sighed and made a grudging gesture with his hands. "Say your piece, bounty man. I'm willing to listen as long as you ain't pitching to sit here on our behinds and wait for Divine Salvation or some such."
Kendrick let his eyes travel slowly to each member of the group, making sure he was holding their attention. When he was ready, he said, "The only chance in hell we got of riding out of here and making it to the Rio Grande alive is if the Apaches don't ride after us."
"Big surprise there," Brade grunted. "What's to stop them—you going to ask them to cover their eyes and count to a hundred while we sneak away?" He snorted a derisive laugh and looked around to see who else would join him. Only Saltillo Bob obliged with a wide smile.
"They can't ride after us," Kendrick said, "if they don't have horses."
Brade's mocking smile went away. His expression—along with everybody else's—turned thoughtful, attempting to find the hidden meaning in the bounty hunter's outwardly too-simple statement.
"You've got something in mind," Ludek finally said to Kendrick. "Spit it out."
Kendrick rubbed his jaw. "The last thing those Apaches expect from us is to attack them back in any way, right? That means however they're spread out there in those dunes and rocks, their weakest point is at their own camp—where they've got their horses stashed. I'm thinking, come the wee hours of the morning when everybody's in their deepest lull, a couple of us ought to have a good chance of hitting that camp, raising a hell of a racket and stampeding those ponies so they won't quit running for miles. Those left in this camp will be waiting with horses saddled and ready, and when the stampede racket goes off it'll be the signal to make a break for it, ride hard and straight for the river valley. It still won't be no picnic because there'll still be Apaches out there to fight through. But once broken past, they won't be giving much chase on foot and it will be hours before they round up enough ponies to put together any kind of threat again."
"What about the ones who stampede the Indian ponies?" Kermit asked. "How will they get out?"
Kendrick shrugged. "Hold back a couple of mounts for themselves, ride clear on those."
"I like it!" Ludek said. "We'd be beating those Injun bastards at their own game."
"I like the sound of it, too," Kermit said, somewhat cautiously. He eyed Brade. "What do you think, Boss?"
Brade was studying Kendrick. "It might have some possibilities," he said. Then, to the bounty hunter: "You got anybody in particular in mind for going in to stampede those Indian ponies?"
Kendrick said, "I figured me and Ludek."
Brade grinned slyly. "I figured that's what you might figure. No way in hell, hombre. I let you two slide out of here in the middle of the night—supposedly to go spook a handful of horses—how do I know where you'll hightail it to? And the rest of us stuck here waiting for a stampede that never comes. What kind of fool do you take me for?"
"A pretty big one," Kendrick said, "if you really believe that's what my plan is all about. Use your head, man; where are me and Ludek—or anybody else—going to 'hightail it to' on foot in this godforsaken country?"
"Why does it have to be you two then?" Brade said stubbornly. "Why not my two men?"
"Now there's real good thinking on your part. That'd leave just you to handle all three of us if and when we made it through the Apaches. You feeling that lucky, Brade? You're gimped up with that arrow in your leg, and you've seen how both me and Ludek know our way around a gun. You really think you're that good?"
"Yeah. As a matter of fact, I do."
"Think what you're saying, Boss," Kermit said uneasily. "You don't want to stack the odds against yourself like that unless you absolutely have to, do you? Besides, what do me and Saltillo Bob know about sneaking up on a bunch of Indians? I'm clumsy as a saddled cow and Bob never can remember left from right—we'd lose our hair, sure; either that or wander off in the wrong direction and fry to death next day out in the middle of that desert. What good would that do anybody?"
Brade rubbed the back of a sweaty hand across his mouth. "Let me think, dammit."
"My plan is a good one, Brade," Kendrick said. "It's our best bet to escape Fire Shirt and his braves. That's the first order of business. After that, we finish settling our other differences."
"Ain't you forgetting something?" Ludek said.
Kendrick and Brade and the others eyed him questioningly.
Looking directly at Kendrick, Ludek said, "In case you didn't notice, nobody bothered to ask me if I was willing to sashay into the camp of a whole passel of Injuns and hoorah their ponies."
Kendrick scowled. "You already said you liked my plan. And I thought you'd jump at any chance to mix it up with Apaches."
"I would, yeah. Generally."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Like I said, I never got proper asked."
"What the hell's he talking about?" Brade said.
"Never mind," Kendrick said. "He's still my prisoner. He'll go where I tell him."
Ludek grinned. "What if I don't? You going to shoot me? Like you keep saying, we need every good gun we got to get through this. You blow me away, you not only lose my trigger against the Injuns but then you for sure got to pick somebody else if you still try to carry out your plan."
"What kind of damn game are you playing?" Kendrick growled.
Ludek's expression turned sober. "No game. Like I been trying to tell you, I think I deserve to be showed the respect of being asked if I’m willing to risk my neck going into that Injun camp. That's all. You made me be polite to Kermit, I think it's your turn for some of the same medicine."
"Fair is fair, Mr. Kendrick," Kermit said earnestly.
Kendrick glared at Ludek for a full minute, then gradually tipped his head in a pair of shallow nods. "All right. Ludek, I need somebody good to back me going into that Apache camp. My first choice is you. You willing to go along?"
Ludek broke into a fresh grin.
Kermit did, too.
"Why, hell yes," Ludek answered. "When do we get started?"
* * * * *
They spent the remainder of the day fighting the torturous heat more than the Apaches. Exactly as Kendrick had predicted, the main aggression shown by the Indians during this spell was to periodically lob an arrow or a rifle shot into their midst, not really intended to hit anything as much as to keep their nerves frayed. Only once—when Saltillo Bob poked the tall crown of his sombrero too high and a bullet sang neatly through it—did any of these intermittent shots come close to a human target.
They nursed their dwindling water supply as sparingly as possible. Yet the level lines in the three remaining canteens crept steadily lower.
The horses grew rest
less each time a canteen was opened and they were taunted with the scent of the water.
As evening closed, they prepared to take the arrow out of Darrel Brade's leg.
"No choice but to do it," Kendrick pointed out. "You must have caught it on something when that Apache pony knocked you down. Tore the meat worse, been leaking blood again ever since. Plus the leg looks more swollen each hour. You won't be much good for riding out of here or anything else if you try to leave that stick in."
"Do it then, if you're going to," Brade rasped. “Start digging. Unless you know a way to talk it out of there."
They put a leather strap between his teeth for him to bite off the pain. Big Kermit held him down. With Ludek's help, Kendrick braced Brade's leg high; then, using the flat of his Bowie blade, he struck the arrow a single sharp blow, driving it the rest of the way through the leg so that the war tip exited out the back side of the thigh. The entire length of Brade's body spasmed in agony but he didn't cry out. Working quickly, Kendrick snapped off the feathered end, gripped the arrow firmly just above its now-gory barbed head, and with a smooth, swift sweep of his arm yanked the shaft free. Brade went from rigid to woozy for several minutes, but he never blacked out completely and he never complained or gave voice to the pain he had to be in, except for a choice cuss word now and then, mouthed around the leather he gnawed ferociously. They used one of the bottles of whiskey from Ludek's saddle bags to liberally soak the wound, poulticed the entrance and exit points with a fat tobacco chaw courtesy of Kermit, then wrapped the thigh tightly in strips of cloth cut from the cleanest bedroll blanket they could find.
Afterwards, while Kermit and Ludek were making Brade as comfortable as they could and Kendrick was sand-washing the blood off his hands, Veronica came over to him.
"I don't understand you men," she said. "Brade means to kill you and Ludek—and me—the very first chance he gets. He's made that crystal clear and he's probably good enough with his guns to back it up. Yet there the both of you were, working to get that arrow out of his leg, helping to ease his pain. Why? Why, when you had him down, nearly passed out, didn't one of you put a bullet in him and be done with it? You could easily have handled Kermit and the other wrangler after that. And if this plan of yours works at all, how critical could one gun be to our success of getting—"
"Enough," Kendrick cut her off sharply. "Like you said, you don't understand. You probably never will, and I don't know a way to make you. All I know is this: The kind of man Brade is, whatever else I think of him, if and when he comes at me I know I can count on it being straight ahead. That earns him the right to expect nothing less from me. Or Ludek ... That's all. That's the long and the short and the middle of it."
They held each other's eyes for a long time. Troubled expressions played across each of their faces. Veronica opened her mouth once as if to say something, but then pressed her lips together again without speaking.
In the end, they simply turned away from each other.
* * * * *
A few minutes short of midnight, Kendrick and Ludek were ready to ease out of the sandstone barricades.
Before embarking on the danger-charged mission, Kendrick confronted Brade. "I got one proviso I want your word on."
A propped up Brade was looking clear-eyed and alert, showing toughness and an amazing resiliency as far as his wounded leg. "I'm listening," he said.
Kendrick jerked a thumb in the direction of Veronica. "The woman. She's no legitimate part of this, and you know it. Her piece in what happened to Tully and Mort was strictly self-defense. You can't fault her for that. If all of us make it clear of here tonight—and that's a big if—I know how it then has to be as far as you, Ludek, and me. But if the woman makes it clear, I say she's been through enough. No matter what else, I want your word you won't try to do her harm."
Brade shrugged. "Why should I agree to that?"
"Why shouldn't you? You got that bad a need to do more killing?"
Brade looked thoughtful. "No," he said at length, "I reckon I don't. Fact is, I never killed a woman before, excepting that Chihuahua whore who tried to knife me for my watch. I guess I don't need to start now. Besides, when it comes right down to it, this one is way too pretty to kill ... even if she is a mite snooty."
"No kind of harm," Kendrick pressed. "Your word?"
"Done," Brade told him.
Kendrick said, "One thing more. Those Apaches are sure to make some kind of strike tonight. Likely in the next hour or so. You've got to stay sharp, stay ready for them. Don't have the horses saddled until after they've made their try. They might spot them and figure out what we're up to. And whatever you do, don't let them cut down your animals or the whole break will be queered. We'll have no way of knowing from where we're at."
"We'll hold up our end," Brade said. "Don't worry about us. You just go on out there and worry about holding up yours."
Two minutes later, Kendrick and Ludek disappeared into the darkness. Veronica stood very still for some time with a blanket wrapped tight around her, warding off the night chill, gazing at the spot where she had last been able to see them.
* * * * *
Kendrick led the way east, curving eventually southward and then back to the west, aiming to return to the ridge a mile or so down from where he figured the Apaches to have their ponies picketed. The two men moved carefully but steadily, keeping always low, worming behind crested dunes or patches of cactus or the few scattered rock slabs they came to. The night sky held a handful of long, stringy clouds which came in handy, sliding in front of the moon every now and then. Kendrick timed their crossing of wider, more open areas to be covered by the splotchy shadows thrown by these clouds.
Around two A.M. a commotion was set off to the north, in the general vicinity of the sandstone barricades. The thin night air carried the muted boom of gunshots and angry shouts, now and then the piercing shriek of an Apache.
"The Injuns are hitting them now," Ludek said in a harsh whisper.
"Bound to happen," Kendrick replied, no emotion in his voice but his eyes briefly holding a haunted look as they swept the murky horizon to the north.
The men froze in place, listening. The sounds of the battle lasted little more than a minute.
"That's a good sign, ain't it?" Ludek said. "Sounds like they must have drove them back quick."
Kendrick nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like. Come on, we've got to keep moving. Still plenty of ground for us to cover."
"Wait a minute," Ludek said, touching Kendrick's arm.
The bounty hunter whirled to face him. The feral blade of his swiftly drawn Bowie glinted in the narrow space between their bodies.
"Jesus Christ!" Ludek blurted, staggering back a step. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
Kendrick looked uncertain and a little startled himself; but he nevertheless seemed in no hurry to sheath the knife.
"Been my experience," he said, an edge to his voice, "that when a man lays hand on me it usually leads to no good."
"Good God, man," Ludek said. "I just wanted—well, I got some things need saying before we go on."
Kendrick searched his eyes. Slowly, he put the Bowie away. "Reckon I'm getting a mite jumpy in my old age," he said, offering a faint smile. "What's on your mind?"
Ludek rubbed his palms on his pants. "This thing we're heading into ... only a fool'd keep from having thoughts that there's a chance we might not make it out, right?"
"Also a chance we will."
"And if we do, then there's still Brade to deal with."
"Providing he makes it through his part."
"He will. Brade'll make it. So will you, I figure. Hard to picture either of you not making it through a thing you set out to do. You're tanned from the same kind of hide, you and Brade."
"So you worried for yourself? That what you're trying to get to?"
Ludek made a face. "Not so much worried about whether I make it or not. Hell, I been in and out of tight scrapes all my life. Walking where the going is roug
h is the only way I know. Bound to catch up with me sooner or later. For the first time, though ... I don't know, it seems important to clear the record on a thing or two. Lord knows I've done enough rotten things to be remembered for, but it bothers me to think I might go down being blamed for lowness I didn't stoop to."
"Such as?"
"Grodine's daughter ... Adele. What happened between me and her was more than just a couple naughty sneaks behind the barn, like everybody is trying to paint. I know all about that kind of thing. But Adele was a girl who pure melted my heart, Kendrick. I tried to keep my hands off her, tried to tell myself she was too good for me. But she saw something in me; something she liked, and she let me know. So then I got to figuring that if somebody as fine as her could take a liking to me, well, maybe I wasn't such a lowlife after all, maybe I could measure up to be worthy of her. I've had me a hell of a lot of women and I guess I told plenty of them that I loved 'em, but with Adele for the first time I knew the real thing. That's why, in the end, I had to ride away from her. I finally came to my senses, saw that I couldn't offer her none of the grand things she was used to and deserved, couldn't offer her nothing but hard times and promises and probably only shame and trouble when it came to facing her family. I had a fair idea how much of a bastard her father could be. It was because I loved her so much and wanted what was best for her that I rode away. When she tried to tell me she was with child, I thought she was making it up to try and get me to stay. If I'd believed her ... well, I can only hope I would've had the guts to do different. I got no way of knowing that. What I do know is that I did what I did because I thought it was for the best."
"You say that's the way it was, I got no reason to dispute it."
Ludek was staring off at something faraway, something Kendrick had the feeling was visible only to his mind's eye. "Crazy little fool. Killing herself ... over the likes of me. Can you beat that?"
Hard Trail to Socorro (Bodie Kendrick - Bounty Hunter Book 1) Page 15
