As they left the room with the armed men following them, Kelly said quietly to The Kid, “I already did my best to get you what you wanted, Morgan. Don’t go pushing Guzman or you’ll foul this up for us. All he needs is an excuse to double-cross us, and he may try to do it even without one.”
“He promised us time with the women,” The Kid whispered back.
“Are you that anxious to say good-bye to your sweetheart? I like you, Kid, and you’ve been a good addition to the bunch, but I’ll cut you loose in a second if I have to. See how long you last with Guzman on your own.”
“I’m not going to ruin anything. Don’t worry.”
Kelly’s frown made it clear that he was going to worry, though, at least until the deal reached its bloody conclusion.
Men were hurrying along the parapets and getting into position as the group reached the courtyard in front of the headquarters building. A burly Rurale came up behind Valdez and without warning kicked the back of his knee, making Valdez’s leg buckle underneath him.
“Get down, dogs!” the Rurale ordered loudly in Spanish. “On your knees, all of you!”
Guzman had warned that they might be roughed up. Even so, the severity of it surprised The Kid as another guard moved up behind him and rammed the butt of his rifle between The Kid’s shoulder blades. The blow knocked him to the ground.
All around him, more Rurales closed in and battered Kelly, Chess, and Mateo off their feet as well. Booted feet thudded into ribs as the Rurales kicked them. As The Kid rolled away from one of the blows, he caught a glimpse of the small group of men standing on the porch of the headquarters building. Guzman had emerged from the building with Salvatorio and two more Apaches.
Salvatorio wore a grim smile as he watched the scalp hunters being mistreated by the guards.
The Rurales stepped back and covered The Kid and the other men with their rifles. Guzman spoke in Spanish to Salvatorio, who nodded and turned to grunt a command in Spanish to one of his lieutenants. The man trotted across the courtyard toward the gates.
Guzman called the order to open the gates. The Apache messenger slipped between them and disappeared into the night.
It looked like everything was going as planned, The Kid thought. Salvatorio had sent the runner to bring the rest of the Apaches to the compound, where they would take the so-called prisoners and lead them away to a grisly fate.
Valdez muttered in Spanish as he lay there beside The Kid, who understood just enough to know that the Mexican was talking about killing somebody when it was over. The Kid didn’t know who Valdez meant specifically, but there were plenty of possibilities.
Minutes dragged by while they waited. Chess whispered, “What’s going on, Kelly? Something’s gone wrong.”
“Take it easy. It’ll take a few minutes for the rest of the savages to get here.”
From the corner of his eye, The Kid saw Guzman and Salvatorio step down from the porch and walk toward them. Salvatorio drew his knife. It would ruin everything if the war chief decided to start carving them up before the rest of the Apaches walked into the trap, The Kid thought. None of the “prisoners” was going to lie there and allow himself to be tortured just to keep up the masquerade.
Salvatorio didn’t use the knife. He started spitting on them. As a glob of warm spittle landed on the back of his neck, The Kid reined in the anger he felt. Soon enough, the courtyard would explode into violence and death, and he would be right in the middle of it. Time enough then to let his anger out.
He heard hinges squeal and lifted his head to see the gates opening again. They swung wide, so the rest of the Apache war party could ride inside the compound. Salvatorio called to his men with triumph and cruel satisfaction in his voice. The Kid didn’t have to understand the words to grasp the hatred they contained.
The Apaches dismounted, and together they walked toward their chief and the men who lay at his feet. Guzman and the rest of the Rurales began to pull back. The men at the gates started swinging the massive portals closed again.
With all those things going on, the Apaches should have suspected a trick. But all their attention was focused on the scalp hunters they despised so much, and their thoughts were filled with the bloody vengeance they would soon take on their enemies.
But something else was wrong.
“Kelly,” The Kid said in a low, urgent voice. “They’re going to wait until the Apaches are all around us to open fire! We’ll be killed, too!”
A curse exploded from Kelly. “You’re right. Guzman’s double-crossing us! We’ll see about that, by God!”
Kelly surged to his feet, reaching under his shirt as he did so. Salvatorio was only a few steps away from him. The war chief’s eyes widened in surprise, and he brought his knife up as if to defend himself.
The blade was no defense against a bullet. Kelly yanked a revolver from under his shirt, jerked the barrel up, and thumbed off a shot that blew a good-sized chunk of Salvatorio’s brain right out the back of his head.
Chapter 25
Guzman was shouting orders in Spanish even before the shot blasted from Kelly’s gun, and the Rurales on the parapet opened fire on the Apaches. Seeing their chief gunned down would make the warriors realize they were being betrayed, and they would fight back if they got the chance.
Guzman wasn’t going to give them that chance.
The Kid reached his feet only an instant after Kelly. His hand swept behind his back and plucked the Colt from under his shirt. One of Salvatorio’s men screeched in fury as he brought his rifle up and tried to line his sights on The Kid.
The revolver in The Kid’s hand erupted with flame first, driving a slug into the Apache’s chest, knocking him backward. Crouching, The Kid pivoted and triggered a pair of shots at the Apaches who had just entered the compound. Those who hadn’t already been cut down were spreading out in hopes of making themselves more difficult targets, but The Kid’s bullets sent one of them spinning to the ground anyway.
The courtyard was filled with chaos as bodies drilled by the men on the walls slumped to the ground. The Kid whirled toward the headquarters building. Jess and the other women were somewhere in there, he thought. With all the distraction, it might be his best chance to find them.
The Kid slowed as he watched a scene playing out in front of the porch. Mateo had reached the fleeing Captain Guzman and threw his left arm around the Rurales commander’s neck. The Yaqui jerked Guzman around and put a knife to his throat. Where Mateo had gotten the knife, The Kid didn’t know but the fact that the Yaqui had it didn’t surprise him.
“Tell your men to hold their fire,” Mateo ordered. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, it was important.
Guzman’s face had gone pale at the touch of the blade. When Mateo relaxed the pressure on his neck, he shouted orders to his men. The shooting died away as the Rurales heard the commands.
The Kid stepped up beside Mateo and held his Colt leveled in case any of Guzman’s men tried something. His eyes scanned the courtyard. All the Apaches were down, but some were still kicking and squirming against the pain of their wounds.
Kelly, Chess, and Valdez were on their feet and appeared to be uninjured. Kelly snapped an order to the other two, and they walked among the fallen Apaches. Shots rang out in the night as they finished off the wounded warriors.
The Rurales on the parapets watched in confused silence. As long as their commandante was being threatened, no one wanted to risk Guzman’s throat getting cut.
Kelly strode over to The Kid, Mateo, and Guzman and glared at the captain in accusation. “You double-crossed us, Guzman. I ought to have Mateo carve you a new mouth right now.”
“I attempted to double-cross you,” Guzman replied with a thin smile. “It appears that I have failed. But you would have done the same thing, amigo, if you had seen the opportunity.”
For a moment, Kelly continued to glare, then, abruptly, he chuckled. “You’re probably right about that.”
Guzman asked, “Do we s
till have a deal, since Salvatorio and all his men are dead?”
“I suppose so. Tell your men that we’re not to be harmed. And don’t try any more tricks. We all speak Spanish, too, you know.”
Guzman issued the orders. The men on the parapet lowered their rifles, and with the exception of a few who would remain up there on guard, they began to descend.
“All right, Mateo,” Kelly said with a nod to the Yaqui. “You can take the knife away from his throat. Put your gun down, Kid. But both of you stay close to Guzman. If he tries anything, kill him.”
Guzman straightened his uniform jacket. “I am not accustomed to such rude treatment.”
“Better than being shot in the back by somebody who’s supposed to be your partner,” Kelly said.
“We should put the past behind us,” Guzman replied with an eloquent shrug.
“You know, I believe you mean that.”
“Of course I do,” Guzman said. “A wise businessman tries to seize whatever opportunity he can, but once it passes, he puts it out of his thoughts.”
“Fine,” Kelly said. “We’re partners again. We can trust each other.”
“But of course.”
“Watch him anyway,” Kelly told The Kid and Mateo.
“Come inside,” Guzman invited. “I will have supper prepared for us. And there is still the matter of the women, eh?”
“The women,” Kelly repeated with a glance toward The Kid. “Can’t forget about them, can we?”
Kelly turned to Valdez. “Lupe, can you handle getting those scalps by yourself? Mateo’s going to be busy.”
“Certainly,” Valdez replied, again sounding proud of himself. “It will not take long.”
Kelly nodded to the open door of the headquarters building. “Let’s go.”
They went inside with The Kid and Mateo flanking Guzman. Kelly and Chess followed. The clerk, Luis, stared at them goggle-eyed from the door of the office.
“Where are the women?” Kelly asked.
“They are locked in one of the storage buildings,” Guzman replied. “They have not been harmed. Not by me or any of my men, that is. I cannot speak for the treatment they received at the hands of the Apaches.”
“You’re going to give us quarters for the night and have the women brought to us.”
Guzman’s back stiffened. “I do not like being dictated to, señor, no matter what the situation.”
“Consider it a request, then,” Kelly suggested. “And here’s the situation, as you call it. Mateo’s going to be within arm’s reach of you every second until we ride out of here in the morning. No matter what trick you might think about trying, you can’t do it fast enough to keep him from killing you. Even if all of us die, you will, too.”
“I believed that all thoughts of treachery were behind us now,” Guzman said. “You wound me deeply, Señor Kelly.”
“Not as deeply as Mateo will if you try anything funny.”
Guzman shrugged. “You will honor the terms of our bargain?”
“Full payment for the forty-four scalps we brought in, half payment for the ones Valdez is harvesting in the courtyard now? Sure, that’s agreeable. And you throw in safe conduct away from here tomorrow.”
“That goes without saying,” Guzman told him.
“Let’s say it anyway,” Kelly said.
“Safe conduct,” the Rurale captain promised.
Kelly nodded in satisfaction. “Once we’re gone, it might be smart for us to steer clear of these parts for a while. I imagine the rest of the Apaches won’t be very friendly toward us once you’ve finished spreading the word about how we killed Salvatorio and his entire war party.”
“That would probably be wise,” Guzman agreed dryly.
“We’ll go back across the border for the time being. We’ll be back sometime, though, you can count on that. And we’ll have more scalps with us when we come.”
Guzman nodded. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
“Now, about those women ...”
“Of course. Luis!”
Guzman quickly issued the orders to his aide. Luis hurried out.
“There are rooms upstairs where you can spend the night, down the corridor the other way from my own quarters. Luis will show you when he returns.” Guzman glanced at Mateo, who still stood close to him, knife in hand. “The Yaqui does not wish to have one of the women for himself?”
“Mateo’s not interested in white women,” Kelly explained. “Killing our enemies appeals more to him.”
Expressionlessly, Mateo peered at Guzman and ran a thumb along the edge of the blade, just enough to slice the top layer of skin.
The Kid’s brain had been working furiously while he listened to the conversation. The women were being brought to him and the others, which was good because he wouldn’t have to hunt for them. On the other hand, he would have to smuggle them out of Guzman’s headquarters somehow, after first getting them out of the hands of Kelly and the other scalphunters. That wouldn’t be easy.
And if he succeeded in that, it was entirely possible Guzman would send the Rurales after him, and Kelly and his friends might join the pursuit, too. Kelly would want revenge for what he would consider a double cross.
The border was miles away across a burning desert. The odds against The Kid and the four women getting there alive were almost insurmountable.
But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from trying. His life no longer meant much to him, but maybe his death could accomplish something good.
The door was still open, so a few minutes later The Kid heard footsteps on the porch. His heart beat heavily in his chest as he looked in that direction.
Luis came into the building first, but right behind him, walking with her eyes downcast, came Jessica Ritter. Jess’s lank, fair hair hung in front of her face. One of the Rurales was beside her with his free hand clamped around her arm.
Jess’s clothes were in tatters, and the pale flesh that showed through the rents was mottled by bruises. Obviously, she had been through hell.
The same was true of the other women who were brought into the room behind her, each of them being hauled along by a Rurale. Violet Price bore little resemblance to the friendly, cheerful middle-aged woman who had provided several meals for The Kid. She was haggard and barely able to stumble along. Her daughter Elsie was in better shape but was still bruised and terrified. Leah Gabbert came last, her auburn hair a wild mass of tangles and a haunted look in her eyes as she jerked her head back and forth rapidly. The Kid wondered if the ordeal had driven her mad.
“You see,” Guzman said, “I keep my end of the bargain, Señor Kelly. You and your men may choose among these ... lovely ladies. They are yours for the night.”
Kelly grinned. “That sounds good to me. Since I’m the ramrod of this outfit, I’ll pick first, and I want the blonde.” He turned his head to glance at The Kid as he asked mockingly, “If that’s all right with you, Morgan?”
At the mention of The Kid’s name, Jess’s head suddenly jerked up, and an involuntary cry of “Kid!” came from her lips. She hadn’t noticed him before.
“So this is the one who’s special to you, eh, Kid?” Kelly asked, still grinning. “Well, that’s too bad, because she’s going upstairs with me.”
It took a lot of effort, but The Kid kept his face expressionless as he shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. It doesn’t really matter to me which one I get.”
The pain that flashed in Jess’s eyes at those callous words stabbed him to the core. He didn’t think it was wise for Kelly to know how much she meant to him.
“That’s good to know. Makes me trust you a little more, Kid.” Kelly reached out, took hold of Elsie Price’s arm, and thrust her toward The Kid. “Here, take this young one. She’s closer to your age, anyway.”
The Kid put a smile on his face. “Sounds good.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You want to come upstairs with me, honey?”
He felt her trembling, but other than that,
she didn’t respond.
“Answer the man,” Kelly snapped.
Biting her lips, Elsie lifted her head and gasped. “Y-yes. I want ... I want to go upstairs with you, mister.”
“Guess that leaves you with your pick of these other two, Chess,” Kelly said.
“I’ll take the older one,” Chess said. “That redheaded gal looks loco. Lupe can have her when he’s finished getting those scalps.”
“All right.” To Guzman, Kelly went on. “The redheaded girl will stay here with you and Mateo, Captain, until Lupe is done. The rest of us have things to do.”
Guzman nodded. “Of course. Luis, show them to their rooms.”
As they started up the curving staircase, The Kid tightened his arm around Elsie’s shoulders and tried to ignore the hate-filled glances Jess kept shooting back at him.
Sooner or later, she would understand, he told himself. When he got the prisoners out of there, she would realize he hadn’t meant what he said.
In the meantime, he could put up with knowing that she thought he was just about the lowest snake on the face of the earth.
When they reached the landing, Luis took them down the corridor in the opposite direction from Guzman’s quarters. As the captain had said, there were a number of empty rooms up there. The Kid supposed that important visitors—men who had come to San Remo to buy slaves from Guzman—used them from time to time. He wished there was some way to put a stop to that sordid operation, but the task was too big for him. He would have to settle for rescuing the four women, if he could even pull that off.
With several Rurales tagging along as guards, Luis showed the men to their rooms and lit lamps in each one. The chamber he took The Kid and Elsie into wasn’t fancy, but it was furnished comfortably with a bed, a wardrobe, a small table, and a couple of chairs. A rug was on the floor.
Luis lit the lamp on the table, then turned to The Kid. “Buenas noches, señor. Enjoy your stay.”
“I intend to,” The Kid said, keeping up the façade as he squeezed Elsie’s shoulders again. She shuddered. With a smile, the clerk went out and closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone.
The Loner: Inferno #12 Page 17
