“It makes as much sense as anything,” Nick agreed. “But I’ll tell you this: ’bout sundown you gonna see what’s left of that bunch of riders comin’ back in one hell of a hurry. If the tribe leaves any of them alive, that is.”
“You think the breakaways are watching them?” Norm asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Nick said. “They’re watchin’ us, too. Bet on that.”
“Would the breakaways hurt you, Mr. Nick?” Sara asked.
“Just as soon as they would anyone else. I’m a traitor in their eyes, child, ’cause I’m helpin’ the others in their relocation plans.”
“Dan?” Matt asked.
“If he’s gonna come straight in, he should be along anytime. It isn’t those bums over across the valley that he’ll be lookin’ out for. It’s the breakaways. Now if I was Dan, I’d look this situation over and then stay in the timber, out of sight of both sides, and see which way this thing shapes up. He might do that. We’ll see.”
Matt lifted the transceiver taken from the dead CWA men and clicked it on.
“We spotted one!” Monroe’s voice came crackling out of the speaker. “Jesus God, it’s a wild beast that walks upright. We’re in pursuit, Judd.”
“That’s ten-four, Monroe. Good luck.”
“He’s gonna need it,” Nick said solemnly. “The fool don’t realize that the tribe’s been in this country for centuries with only a half dozen sightings by outsiders. He’s being set up for sure.”
“I must confess,” Wade said, “I don’t know which side to root for.”
“If it’s the breakaways they’re chasin’,” Nick said, “it’s a toss up. And I’m thinkin’ that’s who it is. The main tribe is half a day’s ride from here, and they’ll be holed up deep in the timber, underground, with only the scouts out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll kill each other.”
“You don’t have much sympathy for the breakaways, Nick,” Susan said.
“I don’t have any sympathy for them,” the guide corrected. “That’s what’s wrong with our society now: too damn many people moanin’ and groanin’ about the poor criminal. In the tribal society, a person is raised to know the right path. He can have one serious mistake marked against him. If he screws up again, he’s in trouble . . . bad trouble.”
“What happens to him then?” Frank asked.
“He gets buried,” Nick said. “I was told that back in the old days, before the white man came into this area, the penalty was banishment from the tribe. All that changed after so-called civilization began moving in. The elders couldn’t risk banishment—too much danger of them who was tossed out revealin’ the tribe’s location for spite.”
“Harsh treatment,” Wade said.
Nick nodded. “Keeps the crime rate down, though.”
* * *
“Keep that ungodly thing in sight,” Monroe hollered from the saddle. “Get them nets up here, boys. Ride him down and fling that net over his ugly ass.”
“He’s in the deep timber, Monroe!” came the call. “We lost him.”
“Dismount!” Monroe squalled. “You and you, stay with the horses,” he pointed out the guard. “Weapons at the ready like you was taught, men. Pair up and don’t get separated. Let’s go!”
The CWA plunged into the deep timber.
“Now they’re in trouble,” Nick said, after listening to the frantic radio transmissions. “They took the bait like a hungry shark. Them woods is gonna turn bloody in a few minutes. First thing I’d do is kill any guards left behind at the horses.”
“Will they eat the horses?” Johnny asked.
“They might. But regular tribe members aren’t red meat eaters. I never tasted meat until I come out. We lived on fish and berries and cooked tubers.”
“Tubers?” the boy questioned.
“Wild potatoes and soft roots and the like. We thought of the animals as friends and family. Modern man could learn a lot from the tribe. But they won’t.”
“Come to think of it, Nick,” Matt said, “I’ve never seen you eat meat.”
“I don’t very often. I’ve fixed a-plenty of it over the years for other people, but I always apologize to the animal for doin’ it.”
“Ridiculous!” Tom snorted. “That’s like apologizing to some damn dog you run over.”
Nick looked at Susan. “I have to say this, Mrs. Dalton: there ain’t much to your man.”
“He isn’t my man, Nick. And my name is Susan. But you’re right. There isn’t much to him at all.”
“I’m glad you finally realized that.” He turned to face Tom, who was standing a safe distance away. “Don’t you never get up in my face, Tom Dalton. Not for no reason. ’Cause if you do, I’ll kill you.”
“You’re a savage,” Tom told him. “You belong in a damn zoo with the wolves and bears and snakes.”
* * *
“There it is!” the shout was muffled in the heavy timber and thick underbrush. “Come on, Ray. We gonna catch us a Bigfoot.”
Ely looked around him. Ray was nowhere to be seen.
“Ray? Where are you, boy?”
The woods were eerily silent. Ely could hear, faintly, the sounds of other CWA men thrashing around in the brush. But none were close to his location.
Ely began folding the big capture net and slowly backing out of the timber. Rain began falling on his hat. Rain? There wasn’t a cloud in the sky a few minutes ago, he thought. The rain began dripping off the brim of his hat.
Red rain.
Red rain?
A drop of blood plopped onto his nose. Ely looked up and began to scream.
Nearby, some ten feet off the ground, on a broken tree limb, Ray had been impaled. The jagged end of the limb was poking through his belly, and blood was gushing from the hideous wound. Ray’s eyes were wide open and staring in death.
“Monroe!” Ely bellowed. “Oh, good God, Monroe. Come quick!”
Since Ely and Ray had been carrying one of the big capture nets, Ely’s assault rifle was slung. He jerked out his .45 and jacked the hammer back as he slowly turned, his eyes searching the forest gloom.
“You got one of them things, Ely?” the faint call from Monroe reached him.
“Hell, no, I ain’t. One of them done killed Ray. Get over here, quick!”
“Comin’, boy. Hang in there.”
Ely looked up at Ray. Ray was certainly hanging in there. Or on there. Or up there. Ely shook his head.
Ely heard the rustle of leaves behind him. He spun around, his heart hammering in his chest. He heard a growl, but it was not exactly an animal growl. He’d never heard anything like it. Something definitely was in that underbrush.
“You surrender, now, you hear?” Ely hollored.
The creature lunged out at him, all ugly and snarling, drool dripping from its mouth and onto its big hairy jaw. Ely emptied his .45 into the charging . . . whatever in God’s name it was. The big .45 slugs, hollow-nosed, tore into the Sataw and knocked it back as two of them hit big bones with tremendous shocking power. With shaking hands, Ely ejected the empty clip and slammed in a full one, jacking a round into the chamber.
“Monroe!” Ely squalled. “God damn it, where are you?”
“I’m a-comin,’ Ely. Did you get it? Did you get it?”
“Yes, God damn it, I got it. Whatever the hell it is.”
Monroe and Jim Bob and Luther crashed through the brush and came to a panting halt by Ely’s side. They stood and stared at the creature lying dead on the ground.
“I believe that’s the ugliest son of a bitch I ever seen in my life,” Jim Bob said.
“It ain’t gonna win no beauty contests, that’s for sure,” Luther said.
“Put a rope on it,” Monroe ordered. “We’re gonna drag that bastard out of here and take pitchers of it.”
All of them jerked their heads up and stood rooted to the spot as wild cries began echoing all around them. They were cries like nothing any of them had ever heard before. Fingers of fear began dancing up and down the
ir spines as the angry cries and howling intensified in volume and grew in number.
“Get a rope on it,” Monroe repeated. “Get it out of here.”
“What about Ray?” Ely asked.
“Where is Ray?” Jim Bob asked.
Ely stuck a finger into the air. “Up yonder.”
They looked, gasped. Luther reeled and threw upon the ground.
The howling moved closer.
“There ain’t nothin’ we can do for him now,” Monroe said. “Come on. Let’s get this thing out of the woods and get gone from this place.”
“Sounds like there must be a hundred of them damn things,” Jim Bob said.
* * *
“Damn!” Nick said, listening to the CWA’s frequency on the transceiver. “Now we’re in deep trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Dennis asked, walking up to the group standing on the flats.
“They killed a Sataw. They’ll never leave this valley alive. None of them.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Dennis asked.
“No. That’s bad,” Nick told him. “Sooner or later, that trash will come across to try and join us—strength in numbers and so forth. That’s when we’re going to be in trouble.”
“This flat isn’t big enough for all that bunch,” Wade said.
“There won’t be all that bunch in another twenty-four hours,” Nick said. “But that ain’t it. The Sataws already killed somebody named Ray. They killed two more yesterday. They’ll get five or six tonight. That’s when the leader of that half-assed bunch will try to make his run for it. When he finds that he can’t leave this valley—the Sataws will have both ends plugged and he’s already seen how deadly the timber on both sides is—he’ll try to join us, I’m thinkin’. If we let that bunch over there join with us, the Elders will vote to stop the whole evacuation plan.”
“What difference does that make?” Tom yelled from behind them. “We’re talking about our lives, God damn it! There is an old saying about choosing the lesser of two evils.”
“How many lives do you figure yours is worth?” Nick asked him.
“I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“Let me put it so maybe you can understand it, Dalton,” Matt turned, facing the man. “Say that bunch of nuts and kooks over across the valley were to join us and we managed to get out of here with our skins. We, this bunch here, even you, might manage to keep our mouths shut about the Unseen. The CWA, no. They wouldn’t. They’d grab the first microphone they could find and start yelling about it. Certain types of hunters would then come in to try to bag themselves a trophy. Not all hunters, not by any means, but enough of them would. And they’d kill some of the tribe members before the government could stop it—or try to stop it. And then those on the outside, those with even a drop of tribe blood still in them, those who have just one wild gene in them, those who have crossed over and taken their place in society would rise up and there would be a bloodbath in America. Am I getting through to you, Dalton?”
“You don’t know that they would do that, Jordan. You’re just guessing.”
“Would they hurt innocent people, Mr. Nick,” Sara asked.
“No. What they would do is wait until hunting and trapping seasons open and go into the woods then. No tribe member will harm an animal unless he has to in self defense. But to hate hunters and trappers is deeply instilled in them. I know men and women who have been on the outside five and six generations who have to really struggle to contain themselves when hunting season opens. Matt’s right. It would be a bloodbath.”
“What you’re saying is, and please correct me if I’m wrong . . . we’re all expendable?”
“That’s about the size of it, Dalton,” Nick told him. “But don’t worry, the tribe members would see to it that no harm came to any child.”
“Well, that’s certainly comforting,” Tom said sarcastically.
“I knew it would thrill you,” Nick returned.
“Then you better kill me now,” Tom said. “Because the first chance I get, I’m gone.”
“Dalton,” Nick said. “As far as I’m concerned, it would be good riddance. But you’re not going anywhere. You know how I know? Because you’re a coward. I seen that in you right off. You’re a big important man sittin’ in your fine office in your fancy suit and tie, but you’re yellow clear through. And you know damn well you can’t make it out there in the wilderness alone. You’re all bluff and bluster. Go saddle your horse, bigshot. Ride on out of here. I’ll give you my word that I’ll stop anybody who tries to prevent you from leavin’. Go on, Dalton. Saddle up and ride!”
Tom’s face turned red and he whirled around, striding swiftly to the crude corral. The group waited in silence. After a few minutes, Tom walked around to his tent. He opened the flap and went inside.
“You’re better off rid of that one, Susan,” Nick said.
“I can’t help but feel sorry for him. He didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“Then why did he?”
“Because . . . I guess to show us all he could do it. Camp out, I mean.”
“Then that makes him a fool and a coward. A man who don’t know his limitations ain’t never allowed himself to be put to the test. You keep guns away from him. He’s liable to use one . . . on himself.”
Book Two
“Contrariwise,” continued Tweedledee, “if it was
so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it
isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.”
Lewis Carroll
1
“We got to get gone from this place, Monroe,” Judd said. “And we got to do it now!”
“You nuts, boy. We ain’t gonna make no money with a dead ... thing. We got to get us some live ones.”
“That monster’s stinkin’ worse than ever, Monroe,” Sanborn said. “I ain’t never smelled nothin’ so bad. There ain’t no horse gonna tote that stinkin’ thing outta here.”
“He’s got a point,” Jim Bob said.
“I think we’d best settle down and get ready for a fight,” Kane said, walking up.
“What you mean by that?” Monroe asked.
“We’re in a box,” Kane explained. “One way in and one way out.” He produced a map. “Look here—this valley is about a mile wide. Sheer cliff face at the north end. Only way we’d get out that way is go through the woods. And we all know what’s waitin’ for us in there. Heavy timber on both sides of the valley. Whatever them things are, they ain’t stupid. You better believe they know this country and by now they’ve plugged up that little draw we used to come in the south end.”
“You tryin’ to tell me that them animal things has bottled up nearabouts fifty armed men, Kane?”
“Looks that way to me.”
“What the hell we gonna do, Monroe?” Roswald asked, real fear in his voice.
B. O. Shanty then made the most intelligent statement of any CWA member that day when he said, “I think we better pray!”
* * *
“What are those nitwits across the valley doing?” Dennis asked Matt.
“I really don’t know. I’m saving the batteries in the radio and relying on binoculars. So far they don’t appear to be doing much of anything.”
“They’d best be praying,” Nick spoke up. “We’re in a hell of a lot better position than they are, and we ain’t got nothing to brag about.”
“Are the breakaways waiting for night?” Norman asked.
“Sure. They know they’re no match for guns in the daylight. They learned that a hundred and fifty years ago. Those kooks across the valley, if they stay bunched, will make it through the day. They’ll lose some men come night.”
“I wonder if Dan made it in,” Matt remarked.
“He’s probably up yonder on the ridges,” Nick said, with a curt shake of his head. “But he won’t skyline himself. He’s probably tryin’ to figure out what’s the best way to help us.”
“Will the tribe help us?”
Susan asked.
“I don’t know,” the guide replied honestly. “But you can bet they’re talkin’ about it.”
“Seems like helping us would be to their advantage,” Wade said.
“Why?” Nick looked at him. “They didn’t ask for this mess. If both sides kill each other, so much the better for them. There’s a very slim chance they’ll just go on living the way they’ve always lived, and in another hundred years, there won’t be any of the tribe left; they’ll have bred all the markings out and everyone will be on the outside, working as doctors and lawyers and shopkeepers and guides and so forth.”
“Except for the Sataws,” Nancy pointed out.
“That’s right. And they’ll stay in the deep timber helping Mother Nature . . . so to speak.”
“Better get word to them that it won’t work,” Matt said. “They can’t sit back and have this many people. disappear without bringing attention to themselves.”
“I done told them that.”
“What’d they say?”
“They didn’t say nothin’. They’re scared. If we could get to their quarters, they’d take us in and help us. Look at it from their side, Matt: they got an intertribal war goin’ on. As long as they stay to the ground, they know they’re safe. If they surface, they’re dead. They know that if the breakaways win, they’ll come back home, beg for forgiveness, and ask to be allowed back in the tribe. If the breakaways lose, they’ll surface and be taken out to the agreed-upon location. They win either way.”
“How many prisoners do they now hold, Nick?”
“That’s something I don’t know. I don’t even know where they’re held. I’m their friend and they trust me, but only up to a point. I know how far I can go with them.”
Matt squatted down on the ground. “First I’m sent in here with orders to destroy the tribe—the Unseen. Then my orders are changed and I’m to see they’re safely transported out. You have some relatives in very high places, Nick.”
“Planned that way. For years. We all knew the time would come when civilization would crowd us.”
“How high does it go?”
Watchers in the Woods Page 15
