The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  “You first,” Anna said.

  Juan shook his head and grabbing her arm demonstrated that he would lower her down.

  Anna looked at the boy for a moment and then nodded slowly, “Okay, but promise me you’ll be right behind me!”

  Without hesitating, Juan nodded and then crossed a finger over his heart. Satisfied Anna nodded her head, “Okay, just be quick,” she said, finally agreeing.

  With help from Juan Anna managed to get first one leg and then the other over the compound wall. For one terrifying moment she almost lost her grip, but Juan was right there, firmly holding both of her wrists. The mute boy slowly began to lower her down until her toes brushed the street below and she let go, dropping into the darkness.

  “Okay Juan, your next. Juan?”

  The boy looked down at her then for just a moment, with a look of sadness on his face and he slowly shook his head.

  “Juan you better get your ass down here! Right now!” Anna screamed.

  But Juan didn’t. Instead, the boy turned around and jumping off of the box began to run back towards the tower. He reached the first steal leg and sticking Allen’s knife between his teeth the boy began to crawl up into the darkness. As Juan climbed, he could still hear Anna in the distance, shouting his name.

  Whatever Two-Steps had set into motion, the Chief would tell Little Bird and Laughing Dog nothing more.

  “Though the time for secrets is over, you’ll still have to wait until morning to hear the rest. After our young warriors have returned, then I’ll share the story of this great victory over the whites with the whole tribe. All that remains now is to wait.”

  Then, with the moon just starting to rise, the Chief dismissed them and sent the elders riding back to the Res along with an escort of Braves, just in case they got lost along the way. They rode out of the canyons at an easy pace, and for the first time, Little Bird got a chance to look at the men escorting her. She realized these weren’t the newly promoted warriors but older men, men that she knew. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and felt a massive weight light off of her chest. From the moment they rounded that corner in the canyons and found Two-Steps waiting for them, some part of Little Bird thought they were as good as dead. But now, seeing faces that she knew, the old woman started to think the danger was past. She had known some of these men for years. She had been on the council when a few of them received their ceremonial names. If she couldn’t trust these men to uphold the nation’s laws, its values, could she trust anyone?

  Little Bird decided to test the waters a bit and glancing to her left she recognized Patty Two-Trees grandson, Swift Foot.

  “Swift Foot, I was sorry to hear about your grandmother’s passing,” she said.

  Without hesitation, the warrior replied, “Thank you Little Bird, she always did like you.”

  “Patty never had a cross thing to say about anyone,” Laughing Dog said.

  “She was a real dear,” Little Bird agreed, “and a very special person on the council, we all…”

  Swift Foot and several of the other warriors began to snicker, and the old woman trailed off in confusion. Swift Foot raised a hand in the way of an apology, “I’m sorry respected elder, no insult intended. The Chief told us that you would try and butter is up with pretty words and then try and get any information out of us you could.”

  Little Bird’s eyebrows narrowed, and she was suddenly thankful that no one could see the anger that came across her face in the moonlight.

  “Did he now?” she managed.

  “He did,” Swift Foot replied, “He also told us that we can tell you whatever we wanted.”

  “He said that?”

  “He did, but I’m afraid it’s not going to do you much good because we don’t know shit.”

  “What?” Laughing Dog asked in surprise.

  “The Chief had us train them boys in a few things, but we don’t know what he had planned for them,” one of the Braves explained.

  “The Chief always sent the men away when it was time to talk about the attack. Even we don’t know what he has planned. Except for maybe about the lookouts,” Swift Foot said.

  “Lookouts?”

  “You see, not all of the boys made the cut. After some training, it was clear a few of them would be more trouble than they were worth in a fight,” Swift Foot explained.

  “And there were others that the Chief just didn’t trust,” another warrior added.

  “So before the main group set out today, he had us pull those boys off to the side and give them their own mission. Those boys we paired off and spread out between the Res and the white town. He ordered them to keep a lookout.”

  “What in the hell are they on the lookout for?” Laughing Dog asked.

  “Same as always,” Swift-Foot replied, “Trespassers. Whatever the Chief has planned, he seems to think that a lot of the whites are going to leaving their little town in the next few days. He wants to make sure that everyone knows that they are definitely not welcome out here. I guess you could call them the unwelcoming committee.”

  Hand over hand Juan climbed up into the darkness. The higher he climbed, the more thankful the boy grew that he had left his shoes beneath his bed in the shack. In places, the tower’s blue paint, now spotted with rust and peeling, provided the only traction his bare feet could find. His hands were over his head and gripping the steel girders as he desperately pulled himself upward. The higher he went, the steeper the angle of the tower’s leg became and the more Juan began to reconsider what he was doing.

  Then for a terrifying moment, one of his hands slipped, and the boy hung their nearly a hundred feet off of the ground and hanging by three trembling fingers. Juan’s hand reached above, searching along the girder in the dark desperately trying to find something to grasp ahold of. His fingers found the edge of a rusty bolt and the boy gripped ahold of it tightly. Though the steel cut into his fingers, he managed to hold on long enough for his feet to find purchase again. Juan’s heart was pounding, he could feel blood running down his fingers now, and he wanted to cry out in frustration. As he hung there trying to catch his breath, Juan’s eyes went down to the shack far below him. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew Allen’s body lay there in the shadows, crumpled and broken. Allen had climbed this tower just a few nights before, back when he was still trying to help them save the tower and still pretending to be Juan’s friend.

  Thinking of Allen and the boy’s betrayal filled Juan with a fresh wave of anger. If Allen and those others like him were able to climb the tower in the dark, then so could he. Gritting his teeth around Allen’s blade, Juan pulled himself upward, his arms trembling and then at the moment he thought he would lose his fragile grip completely his reached blindly above his head, found a new handhold and pulled himself upward.

  The higher Juan climbed the chaotic scene below him began to make more and more sense. The teams of horses were harnessed together, and each team, in turn, was attached to a long length of steel with a single steel ring at its center. Juan had spent enough years poking around Miles’ museum to recognize it was the same basic design used on most wagons, the old man called it a double tree. Most of the teams were in position now as the Indian boys ran the thick ropes from the tower and began looping them through the steel rings. Four of the lines were already attached with two more to go. Juan didn’t know how much force the already damaged tower could take or if he could even get to the ropes securing it, but he had to try. Taking another deep breath, Juan began to climb again.

  Juan reached the base of the tank a few moments later when quite unexpectedly he reached over his head, and his fingers found the bottom of the steel walkway that circled the tank. Juan felt a sudden flood of relief followed a moment later by fear. From the walkway, he should be able to reach over the edge and cut the ropes tied to the tower’s legs from above, but Juan doubted there was little chance that the Indian boys that secured the lines had already climbed down. First things first Juan tho
ught and then reaching out wrapped his fingertips around the edge of the walkway. Immediately Juan saw the problem, he wouldn’t be able to reach the tower’s legs. To pull himself up onto the walkway he would have to do so with only his arms. Shaking his head and without any other option, the boy reached out for the edge with his other hand while kicking free of the steel girder.

  For a split second Juan was convinced he had missed the edge of the walkway and in the darkness, he couldn’t tell if he was already falling to his death or not. Then his already bleeding hands found the steel edge in the darkness and held firm. For a moment Juan hung there a hundred feet off of the ground, and the boy didn’t know whether to feel terrified or elated. Then as the burning sensation in Juan’s arms began to grow and he realized it should definitely be the former. At first, Juan tried to pull himself up to the edge with his arms but that plan quickly failed as his limbs refused to flex anymore for him, so he opted for plan B. The boy began swinging his body side to side and trying to hook the edge of the walkway with his foot. It took him three terrifying and painful tries before his bare foot caught the edge of the walkway and he just managed to pull one trembling leg over the edge. Then Juan switched his grip, letting go of the edge and grabbing ahold of the walkway’s railing. The move nearly cost him his life, as a section of the railing broke free and tumbled over him and into the darkness below.

  As Juan hung from the edge dangling precariously, he heard a voice ask. “What in the hell was that?”

  “Beats me, check it out.”

  The sound of footsteps on steel followed and Juan knew he had only moments before he was discovered. Looking around he realized that on the walkway there would be no place to hide, so left with no other option Juan lowered let his leg slip back over the edge, and he was left hanging helplessly again. A few seconds later an Indian boy came running down the walkway around the curve of the tank. The boy slowed as he came to the section of missing railing, while just inches below him Juan hung, his arms on the verge of collapse.

  “A piece of the railing fell off,” the boy above shouted.

  “All by itself?” came the reply.

  “I guess.”

  Juan felt his arms giving out and knew he had only seconds before he would be sent tumbling to his death. Craning his neck upward Juan tried to will the Indian boy to turn around and walk away, so of course, the boy did exactly the opposite. The young brave took a step forward to peer over the side, the tip of his moccasin hanging just over the edge. Juan realized that one of two things was about to happen. Either the Indian boy would see him and sound the alarm, or he would stand there just long enough for Juan’s arms to give out, and the boy would see him fall to his death. Seeing no other option Juan began to swing his body again, desperately trying to throw his leg back up onto the walkway as he had done just a few minutes before, but as he moved the walkway groaned under the weight. Juan let go with one hand as he hooked the edge with his foot and reaching up pulled Allen’s blade from between his teeth. The Indian boy leaned over to investigate the sound, and the young warrior’s eye went wide when he saw Juan. But before the boy could sound the alarm, Juan yanked himself up with one desperate pull and drove the knife right into the warrior’s calf.

  The young warrior let out a terrible scream and tried to pull his wounded leg back, but the Juan held onto the knife for his dear life. The wounded boy threw his second leg up and pressing against what remained of the railing tried to pull his leg free. Seizing the moment Juan allowed the screaming warrior to actually pull him up the last few inches he needed before throwing his leg up over the edge and rolling on to the walkway. Seeing his attacker for the first time the Indian boy tried to pull his own knife free of his belt, but Juan was ready. In a single motion, the boy yanked Allen’s blade free of the warrior’s calf and then kicked him squarely in the ribs. It wasn’t much of a kick, but on instinct, the boy curled up trying to protect himself and tried to turn away. With the railing missing the young warrior rolled to his right and went over the edge. The boy was still screaming as he disappeared into the darkness below.

  Juan didn’t have time to think about what he had done or what the sudden stop of the boy’s screaming actually meant. The only thing he could concentrate on was the sound of running feet on steel. More warriors were coming he realized, turning he ran along the walkaway in the opposite direction the now dead Indian boy had come from, hoping the curve of the tank and sheer luck would keep him alive. As he ran some part of him realized that there was more light on this side of the tank and looking out over the horizon he found that the sun was just starting to rise. He heard a series of faint curses and guessed the other boy’s had discovered their friend’s death. Juan pushed on faster knowing he was on borrowed time.

  Finally, Juan reached the far side of the tower, but he could already hear the running of feet behind him. Down below the last of the lines were being connected to the teams of horses as the remaining warriors began backing away from the taut lines. Looking down Juan could see the closest of the lines, tied in a thick knot to the tower’s leg just below the walkway. A few more feet below the first knot was a second and below that a third, from where Juan stood it looked as if the other damaged leg was in the same way. Then a shout from below sent a new feeling of panic racing through the boy’s chest.

  A voice called, “Joseph, we are ready, you and the others can come down now.”

  At that moment, standing in the first light of dawn and staring down from the tower Juan suddenly realized that every warrior on the ground was looking up at him.

  Juan heard another voice from below ask, “Joseph?”

  Another voice, presumably Josephs shouted from somewhere behind him, “Intruder! Intruder! Kill him! Kill the pale-face!”

  The compound below erupted into chaos as a dozen or more warriors began shouting curses and giving war cries. Juan watched as at least six of the boys immediately ran for the base of the tower and began to climb upward, each intent on killing him. Behind him, the sound of running feet on steel was getting louder by the moment, and Juan realized that in a matter of heartbeats he would be surrounded. Looking down at the thick rope just a few feet below him the boy made his decision and throwing a leg of the railing dropped over the side.

  Juan caught the taut line with both hands, jerking his shoulders painfully. He quickly reached out to the tower with his legs and finding a foothold, he pulled the knife from between his teeth and began to quickly saw away at the thick rope. The response from the Indians was immediate, shouts, curses, and threats were all thrown up at him, which for the moment at least, no one was close enough to carry through with. Above him, the boys on the tower, presumably Joseph, reached the railing and upon seeing what Juan intended shouted out over all the other voices.

  “The horses, go now, pull! Pull!”

  At that moment, the rope that Juan had been attacking snapped in a loud crack. Below the horses neighed and stomped frightened by the sound, all except for the team connected to the line. That team took off at a run, Juan watched as the boy riding the lead horse was thrown from the animal, he was quickly caught in the tangled lines and was dragged away screaming. Realizing everything that they had worked for at risk the remaining warriors on the ground began to shout and urge the remaining teams forward. The remaining five lines quickly went tight humming and groaning under the sudden strain. Juan risked a glance up and found Joseph had climbed over the railing and was just a few feet above him. Juan looked down, saw the next line perhaps five feet below and without a second thought he just let himself go. Juan fell and nearly missed the line, barely catching it beneath his arms. He opened his mouth letting out a wordless scream as the rope rubbed a length of skin from across his chest.

  Juan held tightly to the rope but just as he pressed his blade to the line the tower released a deep grown. It sounded like a large animal was crying out in pain, but while the sound terrified Juan the band of young warriors let out a triumphant shout and urged the teams of
horses on even harder. The boys below, whom only moments ago were so eager for his blood, reversed course and began quickly climbing downward. Juan allowed himself a quick smile, but then looking up he caught a kick to the face. Juan reeled from the blow and would have fallen then if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on the taut line.

  “You’re dead pale-face!” the Indian boy shouted.

  Joseph was just above him and perched precariously on a steel girder, seemingly eager to let gravity kill Juan. The tower let out another sound, this one of a higher pitch than the last and some part of Juan knew that he was now hearing the death throes of the steel. Along with the sound, a tremor began to run through the tower as well. The motion forced Joseph to throw a second hand around the pillar, and Juan took the opportunity to raise Allen’s knife to the rope and begin furiously cutting again. Serval of the strands parted immediately whipping out and cutting thin lines across Juan’s left cheek, but the boy kept on cutting.

  Then the tower gave out a long and tortured sound that even in the moment Juan realized could only be called a death rattle. The tower leg that he was clinging too shifted a few degrees abruptly as something below Juan failed. Then the tower slowly began to lean. At that moment Juan realized he had failed, no matter what he did now the tower would come down and that more than likely he would die. Above him, he saw Joseph laugh, but the boy’s face was a mix of joy and pain as he seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Then the young warrior’s eyes locked on Juan.

  “I can still kill you!”

  With that, the young brave let go of the girder and leaped. Juan didn’t know what to do, but his would-be killer wanted desperately to stop him from cutting the rope. So, in his last moments, cutting the rope seemed like the most sensible thing to do. Joseph collided with Juan and the rope, just as the line parted with a violent snap. Juan managed to keep ahold of the end still attached to the tower and now hung helplessly suspended in the air, but the Indian boy was sent spinning and screaming towards the earth below. Juan watched as the suddenly freed team of horses broke loose and in their panic collided with another, dragging both horses and braves down in a screaming and kicking nightmare. Juan couldn’t help but smile at that, after all this, it serves them right he thought.