While the outlaws began hitching the mule team to the cannon under Black’s supervision, The Kid sat there on the buckskin with Glory in front of him. He felt a little tremble go through her and put his mouth close to her ear again.
“It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “We’ll just have to bide our time.”
“He really is crazy,” she murmured.
“Yeah, but he holds all the cards right now.”
Below them, Titusville continued to burn.
Chapter 26
Not long after that, the rest of the gang came boiling up the trail, whooping and shooting into the air in sheer exuberance at the success of the raid they had just carried out. Colonel Black rode out to meet them, followed by The Kid and Glory. “Captain Devlin!” Black hailed one of the men.
The man rode over to join them and pulled down the bandanna that covered the lower half of his face, revealing coarse, hard-bitten features. He was no more a captain than a monkey was, The Kid thought, but Black seemed to like to maintain the façade that the bandit crew was a military outfit.
“Report, Captain.” Black issued the command in a brisk tone of voice.
“Mission successful, Colonel,” Devlin rasped. “We hit the bank, the stores, the saloons, every place there was money. And we’ve got bags and bags full of loot to show for it.”
“What about the mining company?”
“We stayed away from it, like you said for us to. There were some lights in there, but nobody came out and offered to fight us.”
Black snorted contemptuously. “Of course not. Like all thieves, Edward Sheffield is essentially a coward. He prefers to sneak around, stealing and fouling everything like a rat, rather than confront his enemies in the open.”
Glory said, “If you hate him so badly, why don’t you just go ahead and kill him?”
Black shook his head. “That wouldn’t be sufficient punishment for his sins. As I told you, my dear, that husband of yours will have to suffer before I finally put him out of his misery. I wasn’t happy when I saw that one of the rounds from the cannon went astray and struck the mining company building. I checked when we rode into town, and it didn’t seem to have done much damage. I’m sure Sheffield was fine. Probably cowering under the desk in his office, wetting himself in fear.”
Glory snarled at him. “You son of a bitch.”
Black leaned over in the saddle and slapped her, his gauntleted hand coming up so fast that Glory had no chance to get out of the way of the blow. Her head rocked to the side under the impact. The Kid felt it through her body, and anger welled up inside him. He wanted to go after Black, but with an effort, he suppressed the urge.
“That sort of language is unacceptable from an officer’s lady, Gloriana,” Black said sternly. “You’ll learn how to behave properly once we’re married. I’ll see to that.”
“You’ll see to this, you—”
More obscenities spewed from her mouth. Black stiffened in the saddle, and taking a chance, The Kid clapped a hand over Glory’s mouth, muffling the tide of invective.
“With the colonel’s permission, sir,” The Kid said.
Black nodded curtly. “Thank you…Sergeant Morgan.”
So he was a sergeant now, was he? He supposed that was better than being a private, although he suspected that everybody in Gideon Black’s outlaw army was at least a sergeant.
Black turned back to the owlhoot called Devlin. “All right, Captain, we’ll be returning to the stronghold now. Pass the order to the men.”
“Yes, sir,” Devlin said. He didn’t salute, but he might as well have.
The mule team was hitched up to the cannon, and men on horseback held the reins of the two leaders. Another man perched on the seat of the ammunition cart to handle that team. The rest of the gang formed up into rows and columns, somewhat to The Kid’s surprise. From the looks of it, Black had actually succeeded in imposing a little military discipline on his gun-wolves. They probably went along with it only because they expected a big payoff, but it was still something of an accomplishment.
With The Kid and Glory beside him, Black rode to the front of the gang. He lifted his hand above his head and then swept it forward, calling out in a deep, powerful voice, “Column, ho!”
Loaded down with the cannon and the loot they had taken from Titusville, the outlaws set off into the night, bound for their hideout.
Or, rather, their stronghold, The Kid reminded himself.
He couldn’t wait to see it.
The stronghold lived up to its name. The sun was rising by the time the gang got there. Garish, orange-red light flooded the valley up which the outlaws rode with their cannon and their prisoner. At the far end of the valley rose an almost sheer cliff, topped by a rounded mound of rock that bore an uncanny resemblance to a human skull. A red skull, in that light. At the base of the cliff was an overhang that shielded a large chamber that had been reinforced and walled off with rock and adobe. A thick adobe wall enclosed an area of several acres in front of the cliff. Gates made of heavy timbers stood open, and through the gap between them, The Kid saw a number of log cabins. The logs came from the scrubby pines that dotted the valley floor. Guard towers also made of logs stood at the front corners of the wall.
“A virtually impregnable fortress,” Black boasted to The Kid as the large group of riders approached. “The valley leading up to it is almost two miles long, and from the stronghold, we can cover that entire field of fire. Two more of Napoleon’s cannon are mounted up there, and with this one in place as well, we can lay down a barrage that ensures no enemy will ever come close to us.”
The Kid had never been a military man, but he could see that Black was right. The men in the stronghold would have every advantage against anyone who wanted to roust them out of there.
By now exhaustion had claimed Glory. She had been dozing in The Kid’s arms for several miles as they rocked along in the saddle. Weariness gripped The Kid as well, but he fought it off. He couldn’t afford to get careless.
Black’s voice roused Glory from her sleep. She lifted her head, which had been sagging forward on her shoulders, and looked around with bleary eyes. “Wh-where are we?” she asked.
“Your new home, my dear,” Black told her. He swept a hand toward the compound at the base of the bloodred cliff.
Glory stiffened against The Kid. “It looks horrible,” she said. “That big rock looks like a skull.”
“The Apaches who used to live in this area called it El Cráneo Rojo…the Red Skull,” Black explained, confirming the impression The Kid had of the bizarre-looking rock formation.
“I suppose it’s an appropriate home…for a butcher like you,” Glory said.
Black reined in to look intently at her. “You’ll feel differently about me soon,” he said.
“Not unless it’s to be relieved that you’re dead.”
The Kid tightened his arm around her. Clearly, Glory had never learned when it was a good idea to keep her mouth shut. She took the hint that time, though, looking away from Black and not saying anything else.
With Black proudly in the lead, they rode on toward the stronghold. As they came closer, The Kid spotted the two cannon the colonel had mentioned, one at each corner next to the guard towers. There had to be a parapet running around the inside of the wall. It must have been a difficult chore hoisting those heavy guns up onto it. He saw men in the towers as well, and the early morning sun glinting off glass hinted that they were scanning the valley with field glasses.
“I’m looking into getting a pair of Gatling guns,” Black commented as they approached the gates. “If I’m successful in that effort, we’ll have enough firepower here to hold off any attack that could be mounted against us.”
The colonel was living in a dream world if he thought he could stand up to the U.S. Army, The Kid mused. The army had even bigger guns and could stand off at a distance and shell the place into dust, along with everybody in it.
That was pretty unlikely to
happen, though, as long as the daughter of the Assistant Secretary of War was Black’s prisoner.
The men in the guard towers and on the wall raised their hands in greeting as the column of outlaws rode through the open gates. Black turned his head and called, “Captain Devlin!”
Devlin rode forward quickly. “Yes, Colonel?”
“Thank the men for their faithful service and dismiss them, will you?”
“Yes, sir!” Devlin turned his horse and rode back to join the others.
“Sergeant Morgan, if you’ll bring the prisoner and come with me,” Black went on.
“I’m with you, Colonel,” The Kid said.
“Responding ‘Yes, sir,’ will be sufficient.” Black’s tone was cool, a lot cooler than the air that had already begun to heat up as the sun rose.
“Yes, sir.” The Kid didn’t like kowtowing to the renegade colonel, but at the moment, if he wanted to keep Glory alive and reasonably safe, he didn’t have much choice but to go along with whatever Black wanted.
The colonel headed for the dwelling that had been built into the base of the cliff. The Kid glanced over his shoulder and saw that the rest of the gang was scattering behind them. Some of the outlaws rode toward a long, low building that was probably a bunkhouse, while the others headed for individual cabins. The Kid saw women emerge from those cabins…some white, some Mexican, some Indian. Obviously a number of the owlhoots had brought their women with them when they joined up with Colonel Black. Some of them might even be legally married. It wasn’t that uncommon for an outlaw to have a family, according to what Frank Morgan had told The Kid in the past.
The Kid saw smoke rising from the chimney of a blacksmith shop, and another building had the look of a store or trading post about it. Nearby was what appeared to be a garden patch. There was even a corral with several cattle in it, and their heavy udders told him they were milk cows. It was as if Colonel Black had established his own little settlement there, almost self-sufficient and cut off from the outside world. From this refuge, he intended to carry out his vengeance quest against Edward Sheffield and perhaps even extend his campaign to take over more of the territory.
Sure, the colonel was loco, The Kid thought, but the sooner he was stopped, the less damage he could do with his crazy plans. He had already been responsible for a great deal of death and destruction, and he would continue to spill innocent blood until someone killed him or locked him up.
The Kid had a hunch it would have to be the former. A fanatic like Black would never surrender. He would fight to the death.
An ornately carved door, like the front door of a mansion, was set into the wall that closed off the chamber under the cliff. It swung open, and a stocky Mexican emerged. He saluted Black and said in only slightly accented English, “Colonel…good to see you again, sir. Was your mission a success?”
“Yes, it was, Sergeant Lopez,” Black answered. “Is the room prepared for our guest?”
“Of course, sir, just like you ordered.”
“We’ll have another officer staying with us. This is Lieutenant Morgan, my new aide-de-camp.”
The colonel must be really grateful to him for capturing Glory, The Kid thought. He had already gotten a promotion in the time it took to ride there, as well as a new assignment. That was all right. If it kept him closer to Black, it kept him closer to Glory Sheffield as well.
Black dismounted and motioned for The Kid and Glory to do likewise. He told Lopez to have their horses tended to, then stepped to the door and held out a hand to usher them inside.
“Welcome to your new home, my dear,” he said.
Chapter 27
For a second, Morgan thought Glory was going to spit right in Colonel Black’s face. But then, with her chin jutting out defiantly, she strode past the colonel into the cliff house. Black glanced at The Kid and added, “Come along, Lieutenant.” The Kid fell in behind him as Black followed Glory inside.
It would have been easy at that moment to draw his Colt, put the muzzle against the back of Black’s head, and blow the bastard’s evil brains out, The Kid thought. But with thirty or forty bloodthirsty gun-wolves right outside, if he did that it would be the same thing as signing his own death warrant. Not only that, but without Black around, those owlhoots wouldn’t show any mercy to Glory. She would die, too, but in a lot slower and more degrading fashion.
No, The Kid told himself, the right time still hadn’t come.
Thick, woven rugs covered the stone floor of what looked similar to the main room of a ranch house. It had timber and adobe walls and was furnished with heavy, comfortable armchairs and a divan. It even had windows of real glass that looked out over the compound. The stone ceiling and floor were really the only visible signs that they were in what amounted to a cave.
A middle-aged Indian woman in a long skirt and colorful blouse came through a door in the room’s rear wall. She left the door open so that The Kid could see through it into what appeared to be a dining room.
“Señora Lopez,” Black greeted her, indicating that she was married to the Mexican major domo. “This is the guest I mentioned we’d be having here, Señora Sheffield. Your husband told me that her room is ready?”
“Sí, señor.”
“And this is Lieutenant Morgan,” Black went on. “Prepare a room for him as well.”
The woman nodded.
“Why don’t you take Señora Sheffield to her quarters now?” Black suggested.
Glory glanced toward The Kid in alarm, probably at the prospect of the two of them being separated, and he had a bad moment as he thought she was going to give away the game. She realized what she was about to do, and she turned the look into a glare of hatred.
“I’ll never forgive you for this, you…you bastard,” she practically spat at him.
The Kid kept his face cool and expressionless.
The Indian woman moved to usher Glory out of the room. Glory suddenly jerked away from her, as if to rush toward the front door and make a futile break for freedom. A quick step put Black in her path. She stopped short, and her shoulders slumped in a perfect impression of despair. That probably wasn’t far from the truth, despite The Kid’s earlier whispered assurances that they would get out of this, somehow.
When Glory and Señora Lopez were gone, Black turned to Morgan and said, “Normally I’d say it’s much too early in the morning for a drink, Lieutenant, but since we’ve been riding all night and I suspect we’ll soon be going to bed to get some sleep, it’s really more like the end of the evening, isn’t it?”
The Kid allowed himself a faint smile. “I can’t argue with that logic,” he said.
Black went over to a sideboard and picked up a crystal decanter that held an amber liquid. “I think brandy would be the perfect thing right now,” he said as he poured the liquor into a couple of snifters. He set the decanter down, picked up the snifters, and carried them over to The Kid. “I don’t normally drink with junior officers, but since you’re my aide-de-camp and we’ll be working together closely, I think an exception is called for.”
The Kid took the snifter Black handed him. “Last night in the saloon, we drank to your heroic efforts on the train yesterday morning,” the colonel went on.
“You did,” The Kid pointed out. “I didn’t. I never said I was a hero.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Black said. “This morning we’re going to drink to the future…a future I intend to share with the lady, and with you, Lieutenant.”
The Kid shrugged. “Now, that, I can go along with.”
He lifted the snifter and took a healthy slug of the brandy, which was smooth and intensely fiery at the same time. As The Kid lowered his glass, he went on, “Begging your pardon, Colonel, but this strikes me as a little odd.”
Black looked amused. “What does, Lieutenant?”
“Well…the fact that I’m suddenly a lieutenant and your, what did you call it, aide-de-camp. I’m not a soldier. Never have been. And less than twenty-four hours ago, I w
as fighting against you and your men.”
“And doing quite a fine job of it, too,” Black replied with a chuckle. “When I saw the way you leaped your horse out of that boxcar and then got the train out of the trap I’d laid for it, I knew then that you were a man of great daring, and great ability, as well. I even commented to Captain Devlin that if I had an army of men such as you, there would be no limit to what I might achieve. He agreed, by the way.”
Of course he did, The Kid thought. Devlin had enough sense not to argue with a crazy man.
“I knew you had come to Bisbee looking for me, so I thought there was a chance I could make you see the light and realize which side is in the right here, if only I had the chance to talk to you. That’s why I disguised myself and visited Titusville yesterday evening. I thought it would be worth the risk to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant.”
The Kid took another sip of the brandy. “You still haven’t explained about that lieutenant business. I thought I was a sergeant last night.”
“A battlefield promotion, so to speak. Completely official.”
The Kid supposed that was true enough, since the ranks only existed in Black’s demented mind anyway.
“As for why I made you my aide-de-camp,” the colonel went on, “I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and I believe that you’ll make a fine officer, Morgan. Captain Devlin has proven himself to be an able second in command, but I need someone to serve as my personal assistant. Someone to be at my side during the campaign. Having seen what I have of you in action, I’d be honored to go into battle with you, young man.”
So Black was a pompous windbag as well as a loco killer, The Kid thought.
“I appreciate that, Colonel,” he said. “I’m honored that you feel that way. I’ll try to live up to your faith in me.”
“You already have. You delivered Mrs. Sheffield to me.” A slight frown appeared on Black’s forehead. “Just how is it that you were in a position to, shall we say, apprehend her? And how did you know to bring her to me?”
The Loner: The Big Gundown Page 16
