Dark Shadow

by Roy F. Chandler

  Logan waited while Dos mounted to the second floor his hand gripping his mother's. The woman clutched a bundle that Logan supposed was her medicines, and her eyes were fearful. Logan touched his hat in respect, and gestured for her to be seated. She chose to squat far from his dangerous presence, and Logan guessed she had come only out of fear for her son.

  "When Senor Seer left the hacienda, he traveled far toward the morning sun. Then he became Punto Negra, a terrible raider of villages, a killer of innocent people, and a raper of women." Breath hissed, but Logan doubted that he was believed.

  "From this place Punto took men of guns, and he gathered others who knew nothing of Senor Seer and this place. Punto Negra the raider warred against the people of the United States, and this year he came to my village. He killed, and one of the innocents to die was my wife of many years." Logan found his throat closing, and he drank water to loosen it. Emotions controlled, he resumed.

  "I returned to my village too late to fight, but once, when I was a younger man, I had killed rogue Apaches who had called me Sombra Preta. I remembered those killing times, and because there was no one else, I took the raiders' trail.

  "Punto and his band escaped into Mexico, and I followed. At times I found them, and when I could I killed them. Punto Negra fled with Juan of one eye and one other. I killed the other in the Sierra Madres. Then I followed Punto's trail to this hacienda."

  There was silence. Then Paco the gatekeeper spoke in solemn tones. "Senor Sombra Preta, we did not know."

  Logan hesitated before adding, "From this place only one of us will ride. The other will be buried here."

  The woman listened to the gatekeeper's translation, but when she spoke it was in passable Spanish.

  She said, "The patron has always been a cruel man, Senor Sombra Preta. We will do what we can to help you." Male heads bobbed, and Uno's handsome teeth shone in a smile as wide as his face, Logan judged that he had made converts.

  Logan half dozed while the woman worked on his wounds. She had more than salve. She sewed the worst gashes with horsehair thread, and when everything was thoroughly salve-coated, she wrapped the bleeders in cloth strips to protect them from reopening.

  Once Logan roused to apologize. "Forgive me, mother, for smelling like a goat. I have been too long on the trail, and there has been no time to bathe."

  The mother of Dos laughed, and later she cackled to her son and Paco in her Indian tongue. Her speech had lost its fear, and Logan believed the words sounded friendly.

  Logan barely felt it when she used an immense pair of shears to trim his hair and beard. His willingness to expose his throat to her blades proved how exhausted he really was.

  Logan could delay no longer. He slapped his hands to rouse them all, and ordered the men back to the cannon. Their target would be the bottom hinge.

  Logan watched closely as his crew laid the gun, but he was thinking ahead to what he would do when the door was thoroughly weakened. He did feel stronger after the food, the cleaning, and the bandaging, but he was not in shape to do much that was physically demanding. He could ignore the angry burn of his wounds, but he could not deceive himself into believing that he could move swiftly. He would be slow and awkward, and the chances were good that Punto would be quick. Logan needed an advantage.

  Until the cannon fired again, Wesley Seer had believed that the gun had ruptured and perhaps injured the gunners. For a full hour he had heard only small noises and distant talk at his listening hole. Finally, he had grown weary of leaning against the wall and had retired to his protected spot behind the stacked supplies. He had fallen asleep when the ferocious blast of the second shot tore through the keep.

  Again the cannon ball struck the far wall, and this time it rolled down the stairs to the lower floor. Splinters flew worse than the first time, and Seer was grateful that he had chosen shelter.

  Seer could see light through the new hole. He again considered creeping close and firing out. If he got lucky he might kill Joshua Logan. It was worth an attempt, but just as he gathered himself something blocked the hole, and his opportunity was lost. Senor Wesley Seer slumped back in exasperation.

  Seer consulted his pocket watch. Three hours had passed since his rider had galloped away. If his horse had not fallen, he was now in Guaymos, and help might already be on the way. Punto cursed the wood splinters that bit into his skin in many places. None were debilitating, but they annoyed like bad teeth. He forced himself to drag more furnishings into the tunnel until he could no longer see the bottom half of the door, and anyone attempting to get in would become tangled and stalled.

  The cannon’s third shot holed the door as easily as had the others, but this time Logan was sure the door had shifted position. It was possible that they had destroyed all three hinges, and if pulled, the door would fall outward.

  Logan got close beside the door and reached quickly to pull on the iron at the middle hinge. He felt the door shift a little, but there was no indication that it was ready to fall. He snatched his hand away before Punto could get a bead on it.

  Logan let his gunners pound the door with two more shots while he prepared his new plan. As directed, they drove their balls into the center hinge area, and the hole widened, but the door did not fall.

  Logan made a wick. He rolled cloth around cannon powder in a long tube. The fuse would bum almost instantly, but he could do no better. Logan fitted the fuse into his bomb which was a cylindrical bottle imported from Europe filled with a powerful alcoholic drink. He had dumped the alcohol and substituted cannon powder. The bottle was a fancy ceramic with figures in the slipware coating. Logan judged that he had packed three pounds of explosive into the bottle.

  Logan studied the enlarged hole and thought it big enough, but he was not about to expose his hand with a bomb in it to someone inside. He ordered another cannon shot. It would make the hole larger, which would make insertion of his bomb easier, and he would stuff the bomb through an instant after the cannon fired.

  The gunners were getting faster, but Seer was pleased to see them concentrating on the center hinge. The door hung loosely, but the top and bottom bars still had some strength. Logan could shoot at the center all day, and the door would not fall.

  His plan to stack furniture had been only partly successful. Now the cannon balls blasted through the furniture and sprayed many times the amount of splinters they had before. Seer dared rise only for moments after the cannon fired, but when he did, the hole was quickly blocked, and he could not shoot out.

  Logan leaned well out of the way, and Paco applied a long torch to the cannon's touchhole. Instantly the cannon blasted, and without waiting to see, Logan stepped through the smoke and stuffed his bomb through the middle hole. It went in easily, and dropped inside until it landed on something. The fuse hung outside, and Paco was poking his torch at it even as Logan scrambled to cover.

  Hoping to get a shot, Seer had come up fast, but waiting for the splinters to pass delayed him, and he was not ready for whatever was dropped inside, and the hand pushing was gone while his shotgun was still rising.

  Seer lowered his gun and was cursing his slowness even as realization of what was about to happen snapped clear. His mind registered a bomb, perhaps because it could be nothing else.

  Wesley Seer hurled himself at his staircase, and struck hard three steps down. His mad tumble took him lower even as the world erupted around him.

  Paco missed the fuse with the first thrust of his flame-ended pole, and Logan heard him mutter, "Diablo." Logan marveled how his team of drafted gunners worked with him.

  The gatekeeper's next thrust was true, and the black powder fuse erupted in a trail of acrid smoke that instantly disappeared through the hole in the steel door. Logan pressed himself against the side of the strong room, and saw his crew cowering beyond the other side of the doorway. Their eyes met, but before Logan could judge their feelings, the bomb exploded.

  Confined within the thick walls, the blast went mostly in and up, but
enough blew against the door to smash the last of the beams holding it, and the door was flung half open as pressurized air expelled in a wave that rocked the cannoneers' wooden building.

  The explosion sounded to Logan like a dull boom that lacked the ferocity he had expected, but within the strong room havoc reigned.

  The furnishings Seer had placed against the door were pulverized and propelled as a million darts. The blast pressure struck the opposite wall and was turned upward. The roof had been built to resist downward pressure only, and the compressed power of the bomb lifted the tons of wood and adobe before dropping them back shattered and broken.

  Logan heard the crash of the roof falling, and a nearly solid cloud of dust and powder gases poured through the doorway. He stood well away with his carbine leveled. If Punto charged through the pall of dust, Punto would not get in the first shot.

  Silence replaced the tumult of falling adobe, and the dust began to settle. Paco crossed himself, and the boys followed his example.

  A few thin shafts of light came through the shattered roof, but not enough to see clearly. Logan called out.

  "Had enough, Punto, or do you want more? You've got two choices. Come out and hang, or stay in there while I bring the whole place down on you."

  Logan had not expected an answer, and he got none. He spoke to Paco. "Make me another bomb, Amigo. Make this one bigger. Fill two of those bottles and tie them together." Logan mused, "I wish we had a way of making a slow burning fuse, then we could get the bomb way inside."

  Paco said, "I know a way, Senor." Logan's eyes questioned, and the gatekeeper added with pride in his voice, "When I was a young man I rode with Diego Hernandez." Logan nodded knowingly, and began his preparations.

  Who in the devil was Diego Hernandez, Logan wondered. Probably one of the many liberators Mexico had suffered over the last century or so. Logan hoped Paco remembered what he had once learned. The fuse on a bomb twice the size of the one they had just used had better not burn too fast or they would all go up in the blast.

  Wesley Seer feared he was finished. The first blast had caught up with him part way down the adobe stairway. He had been hurled off the stairs and onto the ground floor, but before he could gather his senses, huge chunks of the roof had come down, and he had been struck often and hard.

  His lantern was gone, but as the dust settled he could make out the destruction around him. Logan would be coming, or perhaps he would throw another bomb in first. Punto's eyes searched for cover.

  There was only one place, the short tunnel leading to the bottom door, but he had jammed it with furniture. Strangely, one of his arms refused to work, but Seer tugged frantically at the heavy pieces knowing that even a bit of shelter could offer great protection, and if he could get backed into cover he might be able to shoot Dark Shadow when he came for him.

  Dark Shadow! This might be Logan's kind of battle where neither would be able to see the other as more than a drifting shape.

  Seer's shotgun was out there somewhere, and his rifle was probably still up above. His silver butted Colt pistol was at his waist, and he had other guns in the keep, but he had no time to search for them now. He clawed frantically at the furniture, but his ears listened for the first hint of Logan's next move.

  Paco had wrapped cloth strips around the two bottles of cannon powder making them one. Over them he had wrapped a large rag that was twisted into a sort of fuse. The rag had been dipped in kerosene.

  Logan said, "Paco, I am impressed."

  The man was as usual slow to answer. "You must light the kerosene, Senor, and then throw the bomb far into the room. When it hits, a bottle will break and the fire will reach the powder."

  Logan said, "I understand." He wondered if his voice shook a little. He took the bomb, and got himself ready. This was not the time to throw weakly or to have the bomb bounce off something and perhaps back into his lap.

  Logan said, "All right, Paco. Light your torch, and hold it where I can reach it. I will light the fuse and chuck it through the door." He looked around warningly. When I throw, everybody stay low. This could be a really big explosion."

  Logan stepped away and wriggled his body trying to loosen his over-stressed muscles. The thought crossed that this could be the end of it. Punto might already be dead. If not, this bomb should finish him. Logan made up his mind not to try a third. When the smoke cleared this time, he would go in.

  He held the bomb away from his body, and Paco brought his flaming torch close. Logan touched the fuse to the flame and it began to burn. He allowed the fire to catch well, then threw sidearm, hooking the bomb around the door and into the dark of the room beyond. Then he leaped to safety and tucked himself tight against the adobe wall.

  Seer was looking up when the bomb flew inside. He saw the flaming object, threw himself into the partly cleared tunnel, and scrambled desperately across the blocking furniture.

  The first blast had been as nothing. The second explosion was tremendous, and it drove consciousness from Seer as if it were a club. The trapped raider did not hear the rest of his roof come down. Adobe bricks crashed by the hundreds and large roof slabs studded with the twigs holding them together thundered into the belly of the keep.

  Mostly into the tunnel, Seer was almost protected. Only a foot was trapped under the massive fall, but that foot was crushed flat, and if he had been conscious, Seer’s screams would have told Logan where to find him.

  This time, the upper door was hurled across the stairwell and collapsed a wooden wall of the sleeping wing. The dust cloud accompanying the explosion was impossible to breath in, and Logan and his gunners retreated to the gallery.

  The crashing fall of the roof continued for a measurable time before dying to an occasional clunk of a loosened brick. Logan did not wait with his rifle ready. No one was going to charge through the rubble of that blast.

  They shared water from the olla, and Logan directed Dos to go to a window and tell the people that no one was hurt and that soon it would be over.

  Logan said, "Uno, you should call to your family."

  The boy did not answer, and after a moment Paco said, "The one you call Uno has no family, Senor Sombra Preta. He is a poor boy that the people feed and care for. Senor Seer orders him away, but we send him into the hills with the burro to watch with the herders.

  Damn! Logan had not wished to cause pain. He placed a comforting hand on the boy's thin shoulder, and shook it as one man might encourage another.

  When the dust had settled, Logan peered inside the strong room. He could see well because the roof was gone. Before he entered, Logan studied the debris hanging from above, and decided nothing more was likely to fall.

  His ears still rang from the cannon and bomb blasts, and Logan could not expect to hear well, but if he lived, Punto would hear even less. Logan ordered the others to wait and stepped into the short tunnel leading through the walls and into the upper room of the vault.

  He held his Spencer ready at full cock, but it seemed improbable that Punto still lived. Everything inside the room had been blasted or was crushed beneath brick and debris piles, and some of the floor had also fallen away. There were no bodies. So, Punto had to be on the lower floor.

  The brick staircase was littered with fallen junk, and Logan had to step carefully. It was darker down below, and the chaos seemed at least as bad. If Punto was in here, Logan wanted to see him first, even if the raider was as dead as one of the adobe bricks.

  Seer felt Dark Shadow coming. He guessed he had just awakened. He attempted to move and agony streaked through a leg. He saw a shadow on the stairs and believed it was Sombra Preta coming for him. His good arm clawed for his pistol, and the movement forced a hiss of pain from his clenched jaws. Instantly, the shadow was gone from his view.

  Had he imagined the shadow, or was Logan really there? Seer gripped his pistol, the silver butt slippery in his sweating hand. If it were Logan, the killer would have to come to him. With his foot smashed and trapped under a ton of
rubble, Wesley Seer was not moving.

  Logan heard breath hiss, and he dropped as silently as his ripped body allowed. He held the carbine high lest it rap against the floor. He listened and thought he heard a rustle of movement from the darkness where the lower door opened.

  Punto could be in there. He could have backed into the tunnel with furnishings piled as protection. If he had, the falling roof would have missed him, and he could be waiting with a shotgun ready for Logan to expose himself.

  Logan thought about it. He also thought about rescuers riding closer. This close to finishing, Logan did not wish to be caught and killed by a posse of Mexicans who would not care a lick about why he was destroying Senor Seer's hacienda.

  Seer was backed into a corner. He would be desperate but Seer was no fool, and he would not fire at thrown bricks or at wood slid across the floor. Logan would have to give him a real target. Once Punto fired, Logan would know where to aim, but shooting before he knew would put Logan at Punto's mercy. Logan considered attempting to scurry back up the stairs. From above, he could toss a third bomb directly into Punto's lap. Would the trapped raider hold his fire while Logan stumbled his way up the rubbled staircase? Doubtful.

  Seer waited, and he knew Logan was there in the room with him. He heard Logan move, and once he heard the man spit away dust. Patience,

  Seer told himself. Be patient and wait until he had a clear target.

  Furniture moved about, and there was scuffling. Seer knew about where Logan lay. The man was edging closer, but he would have to expose himself or shoot blind. Seer waited, fighting not to sneeze amid the dust that caked him head to foot. The pain in his trapped foot was chewing at his nerves, but to even twitch could draw Logan's Fire.

  Logan's scrabbling drew closer, and Seer guessed they were no more than ten feet apart, but even looking into the lighter room he could see nothing, and he was sure that Logan could see only darkness.

  Then Logan rose like a specter almost in Seer's face. Logan reared above him his hat shading his face, and Seer knew the man was about to fire. Seer aimed into Logan's body and began shooting. The fire from his pistol muzzle almost reached Logan's shirt, and Seer knew triumph as his bullets went home.