by T J Reeder
It was almost dark when the co-pilot came over at a run for Charley to take a call. I waited for him to return. He came back, settled down and said it was the scouts who followed the ones Sandy hit. They had been found and were all dead; one lived long enough to say he knew nothing except they were paid to come out here and shoot somebody and then ambush whoever showed up. He said the one they followed was a ghost. One of the ones she wounded had died further along leaving just four and one of them was hurt badly, but now they were all dead. Charley had contacted the refueling site and dispatched a chopper to pick the scouts up and at their request they were dropped off close to Fox and crew.
An hour later and after full dark another call came in from Fox. He reported finding a campsite with three bodies scattered around. One had been taken out with a blade and two others shot before the rest scattered. He said he was about five hours behind her, but she was moving fast. He also said she had switched to her 300 Blackout with the can on it, that’s how she got into the camp; one of the dead must have screamed out so she faded away.
The bunch that was left were on the run and headed right at us. Charley smiled his wolf smile and rattled off to his lads, who started getting their gear ready. An hour later Charley and I were alone with the pilots. The scouts had faded away into the feeder draw that fed the run-off that had cut the canyon thru the many centuries.
I asked him if he felt worthless as a tit on a boar hog, and he smiled and said, “No, because we won’t miss anything except the twisted ankle us old men get trying to keep up with the kids.” He was right. We bedded down for some rest while we could. When dawn broke we were up and standing on the canyon rim just waiting.
It was late morning when we heard the sounds of far-off shots; a few at first then a lot. Somebody was in a fight for sure. After a bit it got quiet, then an hour later it started again- not as many
shooting, but just as wild-sounding and closer. I could only believe it was my wife running these people to ground as they tried to get away. I had to believe she was taking out the rear guard who was being left behind to give the leader time to get away.
I doubt they even had a clue it was one tiny woman who was killing them, I’m sure they thought it was a whole platoon of crack troops. For some reason I wasn’t in a hurry to head down into the canyon. This was my lady’s fight and she was doing just fine. I knew Charley’s scouts were down in there and would prevent any from escaping and they had orders to keep the ones out in front alive- that’s where the boss was gonna be.
By midafternoon the sounds of fighting had dwindled to sporadic shots, usually full-auto fired by a scared man being hunted by a ghost and about to die. I felt no pity for them, and I didn’t blame them for running as if the devil was after them; in a way that’s what was after them- the devil they dug up and the one who would be their end.
At last I heard gunfire very close to us followed by shouts of surrender. Charley and I (at last) headed down the shallow wash that became a small canyon on its way to join the giant canyons. We came around a curve and found the scouts holding several men face down. There was a few bodies farther back; the ones who tried to shoot it out with men they couldn’t even see. Or maybe they thought it to be better dead by the hand of Men as opposed to by the Devil.
There were a few more shots deeper in the canyon but they soon stopped. I suggested we set in the shade and not be waving guns around; even Charley’s lads understood that and joined us, leaving the tied prisoners in the sun. Time passed with no sounds coming, which meant the ones left behind were dead.
And then with not a whisper of sound she was standing looking at us. She had circled around and come at us from behind. Even the scouts were surprised. I think Charley wasn’t- he had a small smile on his face and nodded when she walked over and took the canteen from his hand. She drank, and then again, slowly savoring the cool water. After a bit she poured some over her head and neck. I handed her my dog rag to wipe her face, then she just fell into my lap and with her face in my neck, she cried. I knew it wasn’t from relief or fear, it was for the young man who died with her. She lay there for a while and I wiped the wet cloth over her neck, which was sunburned badly. She had a bad cut on her forehead, several black and blue bruises on her arms and a swollen cheek. I held her while she slept deeply.
I heard the sound of a chopper coming in above us and soon heard the sounds of many feet running down the wash. In the front were Willy and Joe, followed by Doc and his three staff-types. Seeing me holding Sandy they all slammed on the brakes with pain in their eyes but she raised her head and said, “Don’t let that witch doctor near me.” Doc laughed out loud and they swarmed over us. She was lifted out of my arms and taken around the curve to be examined.
After a bit they came back and she was on her feet so I held my arms open but she walked past me to the ones lying on the ground. She flipped the first one over and said, “Who’s the boss man?” He looked at her with terror in his eyes and nodded at the one next to him. She rolled him over, sat on his chest and just stared at him until he started screaming and trying to buck her off. We all heard the click of the switchblade I had given her long ago, and with not a word she sliced off an ear and watched him scream. She never blinked. Then she said, “Can you hear me?” He nodded wildly; she said, “Good. Why are you here?” He tried to play dumb and lost his other ear. After that he started talking so fast I couldn’t keep up. Charley asked him in Spanish to say it again slowly, and this time he got it out.
The brothers of the gang leader we ran to ground down near the border (the one Sandy had shot), had put out a huge contract on all of the Gringos living in the canyon.
But these people he sent special, to attempt to capture Sandy alive and bring her back. It was just their luck that they spotted her at the fort when they were watching; their ambush was just a lot of luck, good for them at first then very bad in the end. They had no idea what they were getting into.
When he was done talking we knew where we were going to go see these brothers. In the meantime, a message was sent to the canyon telling them to put out guards and scouts to start looking for people who didn’t belong.
After we had all we could get out of the asshole, Sandy walked away for a bit. Taking a canteen, she started washing her face and hands better. When she was done, she went back, cut the prisoners loose and told them to stand up.
After they did that she went to the pile of guns they gave up and picked up the four pistols. She laid them in front of the four and walked away about fifteen yards. She took off her camo shirt and stood there in her black tee shirt with the shoulder holster on. She said, “OK, here’s how it works. You get to pick up a gun. You can hold it or stick it in your pants. When the first one moves the dance starts.” Charley translated it; she then said to us that if they shot her they were free to go. I saw hope flare in their eyes. They were stupid men. All they saw now was a small woman with a pistol trying to be a man. I really believed none of them realized she was the one who had run them to ground and killed almost all of them.
Right then Fox and JJ showed up, looked the whole thing over and moved over to us. Fox said, “I told you she was pissed!” JJ just laughed and asked where the cold beer and hot buttered popcorn were. JJ has some social issues and hanging with Fox ain’t helping. In fact, JJ is kind of a male Sandy- not real big, but not to be screwed with.
I asked why they were so long getting here. Fox said, “Well, for one thing it was her show and for another, we sure as hell weren’t gonna get real close because she might forget we are the good guys!” I looked at them and thought, “God save us if these two are the good guys”, but I was smiling. Fox opened his pack and took out a bottle of JW. I looked at it and said, “Do I want to know where you got that?” He said, “No” and that was that. But he did offer me the first drink.
After looking at Sandy just standing there, the four started looking around. One asked Charley something, and he said, “Yes”. The fool smiled.
They all picked up a pistol and stood there. The fool put his in his belt and smiled, the other three just held theirs. Time seemed to slow down in the canyon. Doc started to say something, but Fox just looked at him and he stopped.
Sandy looked at the one who seemed to think he was the top dog with a gun and said his mother was a whore and the best part of him ran down her legs in the alley where she worked, all in good Spanish (or so JJ said). He quit smiling and grabbed for his gun. The others all jumped and I watched my lovely wife calmly shoot them all down. None got off a shot; none even got their gun up to shoot. She dropped the empty magazine and slapped in a new one. I also noticed she was using the gun the old General had given her; I figured he was smiling someplace. It was over in seconds. I know she’s fast but that was a record even for her- from the draw, eight shots and all center mass.
She looked at me and said, “Please take me home, feed me, get me drunk and put me to bed. When I get rested up we have a date in Mexico and this time we finish this shit once and for all.” She was still pissed. Somebody really had made a bad mistake. Or should it be a ‘fatal’ mistake?
I don’t think any war anywhere in all of history started with that as a plan, but this one surely was. Doc being Doc did check the dead guys to make sure, and I heard him tell somebody all four were shot right thru the heart twice each. Her legend was going to grow from this.
I hadn’t heard the little bird land and was surprised to see May and Kid standing a ways away watching. From the look on their faces I knew had the dead guys won they would not have lived a second longer. They went to Sandy and hugged her and we all headed out of the canyon to our ride home.
Beth was waiting when the birds landed. She and the entire community as well as people from the entire area. I even saw faces of the fisher folks from across the lake. When Sandy stepped off the chopper a great roar went up as people showed their love. She stood there a moment and then walked to the one person who stood alone, her face filled with sadness. Sandy wrapped her arms around the young girl and held her as she cried. I was close enough to them to hear the girl ask if Sandy had got them all. She said, “All but a few the scouts ran down. The rest are dead and rotting where they died.”
She added that she knew it wouldn’t bring back James (the dead pilot), but it was the best she could do. The girl nodded and turned away.
We took Sandy home where she spent a long time in the shower. When she came out, she smiled at the family and joined us at the big table where the wine and whiskey sat. She took a glass of wine and drained it, then got a cold beer and drained that. Then she looked at us all and said, “I’m fine. I was angry and still am and will be until we finish these bastards once and for all. If that requires killing every last bit of their bloodline then that’s what I will do.”
We all nodded and raised our glasses to toast the coming blood feud- and no mistaking it, this was now a blood feud and wouldn’t be over until these people were buzzard shit. We talked no more about it. The kids were awake and were being the center of attention. Molly was laying close to the small fire showing her age, Walker was hovering over JC until I sent him to the fireplace, where he pouted.
We all headed to bed early. Beth joined May for baby duty leaving Sandy and me the big bed. I held her all night. I don’t think we moved a muscle. She was home and in my arms, surrounded by family and friends.
Morning found me alone in bed and the smell of coffee drifting thru the place. When I made it to the kitchen I found Beth and May feeding the kids. Kid wasn’t around. Before I could say a word, Beth said Old Woman came early and took Sandy away. She said they would return when it was time and her place is off limits to everybody but Charley (and then only if she asks him to bring something). I knew if Sandy had any issues with the whole mess Old Woman would help deal with them.
I headed down to the communal kitchen where I found Charley sitting at a table eating an omelet that looked awesome and way too big for him. He said if I touched it he would put a curse on me. I laughed for the first time in what seemed like weeks. One of the ladies brought me a plate with the same thing he had, so I joined him and it was even better then it looked.
The lady asked after Sandy, so I told her she was OK, just taking some down-time. She then asked when I was gonna get off my ass and get the meat chickens I had been talking about? So much for a quiet breakfast.
Charley just smiled while I tried to talk myself out of the hole I dug using my tongue for a shovel.
Charley said he had an idea about the chicken fix I was in, but it would require a road trip for about two days. I said, “Fine, if it gets them off my ass!” I asked where we had to go, and he said to the fort.
I just looked at him until he said he had asked the fort scavengers to look for somebody with chickens. He said they knew of a settlement that had more chickens than cows, so they worked a trade for some ready for processing and had just picked them up in a reefer truck- fresh frozen and ready to eat.
I was stunned into silence; I asked why he had gotten involved and his answer made me laugh. His answer? “I love fried chicken.” I asked why we needed a road trip? He said we could take some of the farmer-types with us and the people at the settlement would help get us started with hatching our own eggs and raising what we needed right here. I had to ask how these people had so many chickens, and it seems there had been a chicken farm in their area where they all worked. They were trading chickens for grain they got farther east from a farm settlement…it was too convoluted for me to follow. But it showed trade was alive and folks were thriving.
I asked the cook, who was the best person to put together a plan to get this entire mess going. She said leave it to her and it would get handled. I just had to provide security for the ones going.
I sat a moment and said to Charley, “I think the ones for this task are Fox and JJ!” And we both busted out laughing at the thought of our two warlords reduced to chicken convoy guards.
We were joined shortly by a knurly old coot that looked older than dirt. He had hair down to his ass and a beard a foot long. Where he came from I had no idea, but the cook liked him because she brought him an omelet. He started eating like he was starved, so we let him be until he was done.
He looked at both of us and said something to Charley in Navaho, which surprised Charley even more than me. He smiled showing perfect teeth and stuck out his hand and said, “Doctor Clyde Brogon, PHD in Agriculture.” I was flat laid out; he looked like a cast member of the Beverly Hillbillies, or the last survivor of the Hatfield and McCoy feud!
He said he had lived in New Mexico all his life and grew up playing with Navajo kids and had taught at the U of NM. I asked how long he had been here in the canyon and found he had been here from almost the start. I was shocked that I never had seen him! He said he lived in the small feeder canyon where V had her place which explained it. I know we all like her and have high regard for her skills with herbs and holistic medicine, but she was a loner and we respected that…that and the squirrel. I asked Clyde if he had noticed anything strange about the cat. He got a look on his face and said, “Cats are strange” and that was it.
I explained what we had in mind about getting some good eating-chickens, since ours looked like roadrunners. He said he could handle it just fine with a bit of help; I put him in charge of the mess. I asked how long before he would be ready to go, and he said three days. Done deal! I love being the idea man with others wanting to do the job. I’ll willingly do whatever needs doing but leave it to the experts. Plus, as noted several times, I seem to find my labor skills not needed.
A smaller person would be hurt, but not me. Charley said, “Come on, Tom Sawyer. Let’s go tell Fox and his shadow they are chicken guards.” We laughed all the way over to their digs.
I now hate Fox and JJ; they are true assholes. When informed of their next duties both were overjoyed! Seems they both love fried chicken with gravy and smashed spuds- they were happy. bastards. They were both laughing as we walked
away.
We headed up the ridge and stopped at Charley’s place for a cold beer and a sit on his back patio that dropped straight down to the water. Under the trees was very nice and it was quiet for maybe five minutes, until May and Kid showed up. May took my beer, Charley simply handed his to Kid. What the hell, she’s old enough to fight for the homeland she’s old enough to drink a beer. She took a sip and handed it back. She hates the taste but did it because Charley handed it to her. She’s a good kid, or young woman as it were. They didn’t say anything, just sat on the edge of the cliff and looked across the water. They were missing Sandy and wanted to be close since Old Woman’s place was only a short distance away.
Beth showed up shortly and settled down with the girls. The family was together waiting for our Sandy. We finally wandered off; me to nap with Beth, May and Kid to the range, Charley decided to go visit Clyde and get better acquainted. I think he was still in shock at finding a white man who was fluent in Navajo. I was willing to bet Old Woman knew all about him.
