The hellbound posse, p.19
The Hellbound Posse, page 19
“I’ve got my eye on ’em,” Nolan said.
“Will it help us that you’re part Indian?” Wyler asked Nolan.
“Depends on whether or not they can see it,” Nolan said. “We’ll find out one way or another. Just don’t look at them.”
It took all Bregman’s willpower not to look around, but he followed Nolan’s instructions.
* * *
* * *
Still with us?” Bregman asked, twenty minutes later.
“Yes,” Nolan said, “but up ahead they lose their high ground. We’ll be on equal footin’.”
“We’ll see them, and they’ll see us,” Bregman said.
“Right,” Nolan said. “Then we’ll see what their next move is.”
When the Comanche party came into sight, Bregman saw that Nolan’s estimate was low. There were eight of them, and they were armed with rifles.
“They’ve changed their headin’, comin’ right for us,” Nolan said.
“Should we make a run for it?” Wyler asked.
“They have better mounts than we do,” Nolan said. “Runnin’ won’t accomplish much.”
“Talk, then,” Bregman said.
“Let’s start with that,” Nolan said.
“Thad, don’t touch your gun unless we do,” Bregman ordered.
“Yes, Sheriff.”
“Nolan, are they comin’ hard?” Bregman asked.
“No,” Nolan said, “they’re takin’ their time. We show them courage by not runnin’, and they value courage.”
Wyler nervously touched his pistol, and Nolan noticed.
“Thad, keep your hand away from your gun!”
Wyler pulled it away as if he had been burned.
“Okay,” Nolan said, “they’re movin’ to intercept.”
“All in front of us?” Bregman asked.
“Yes,” Nolan said, “they’re not surroundin’ us. That’s a good sign.”
They continued to ride forward until the party of Comanche made their way in front of them, when they had no choice but to stop.
For a moment they all just looked at each other. Bregman and Wyler had their badges on. It was not immediately evident which Comanche was the leader, not until he actually rode forward, separating himself from the others.
“I am Running Buffalo,” the brave said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Sheriff Breg—”
“No, not you,” Running Buffalo said, then pointed at Nolan. “You.”
“My name’s Jake Nolan.”
“You have another name,” Running Buffalo said.
“I did,” Nolan said. “For a while my people called me Sharp Hawk.”
“You are Cherokee.”
“Partly, yes.”
“But you live with the whites,” Running Buffalo said.
“I do.”
“Is it because they accepted you more?” the Comanche asked.
“Not at all,” Nolan said. “I was very welcome with my Cherokee people. But I wanted to explore both sides of my heritage. My people told me to go, and come back whenever I wished.”
“But you have not returned.”
“I met a woman, got married, and I’ve made my life among the whites,” Nolan said.
“Are these your brothers?”
“As much as your braves are your brothers,” Nolan said.
“Are you here for the buffalo?” Running Buffalo asked.
“No,” Nolan said, “my bothers are officers of the law, and we are part of a posse. We pursued some men who robbed our bank and killed some people. We exacted justice, and are now returning to a town called Cactus, many days’ ride from here.”
“You have not killed any buffalo?” Running Buffalo asked.
“We have not,” Nolan said. “We heard the big guns in the distance.”
Nolan saw that two of the braves were carrying Big Fifty rifles, and realized that the distant shooting had stopped.
“You go to . . . Cac-tus?” Running Buffalo asked.
“That’s right.”
“Why do you not ride on road?”
“There’s a large band of white men lookin’ for us,” Nolan said. “Have you heard of Dex Miller?”
Nolan could see that Running Buffalo and his braves all recognized the name.
“He is an evil man,” Running Buffalo said. “He attacks his own people.”
“Yeah, he does,” Bregman said. “That’s why we wanna catch ’im.”
“But . . . you said you are running from him,” Running Buffalo pointed out.
“We know where his hideout is,” Bregman said. “We’re gonna tell our military so they can go in and clean it out. But first we have to get home.”
“There are many riders coming from the main road, where you came from,” Running Buffalo said.
“That means they picked up our trail,” Nolan said.
“Dave and Lance may have gotten through, then,” Bregman said.
“You are entering our hunting grounds,” Running Buffalo said.
“That wasn’t our intention,” Nolan said. “We’ll just be passin’ through, not doin’ any huntin’. If that’s all right with you.”
Running Buffalo studied the three men, then turned his horse and rode back to his braves. After they spoke for a short time, he turned back to the posse.
“How long will you need?” he asked.
“I think several days should do it,” Nolan said. “Three moons.”
“Then you have three moons,” Running Buffalo said. “After that, you must leave our hunting grounds.”
“Understood,” Nolan said.
“May I ask somethin’?” Bregman said.
Running Buffalo nodded.
“Will you be makin’ the same limitations on Dex Miller and his men?”
“You are three,” Running Buffalo said. “He has thirty men. We will be keepin’ our distance from them.”
“Don’t you have more braves?” Bregman asked.
“Three moons,” Running Buffalo repeated.
“We understand,” Nolan said. “Thank you.”
Running Buffalo turned his pony and rode back the way he had come, his seven braves following him. Bregman, Nolan, and Wyler watched the eight braves until they were once again out of sight.
“Do you think they’ll still follow us?” Bregman asked.
“We’ll see them if they do,” Nolan said. “It’s pretty flat from here on out.”
“Did you see the Big Fifties?”
“I did,” Nolan said. “I think they caught whoever was huntin’ buffalo, probably killed ’em and took their guns.”
“So they do attack smaller groups, like us or some buffalo hunters. But they don’t want anythin’ to do with Dex Miller and his men.”
“That might be one of the reasons Miller rides with such a large force,” Nolan said. “It keeps the Comanche and Kiowa raidin’ parties away from them.”
“So they’ll be free to chase us across the Comanche huntin’ grounds.”
“If that’s what they wanna do,” Nolan said.
“Then we better get movin’,” Bregman said. “We have three days.”
* * *
* * *
Dave Royal and Lance Hendricks followed the main road for several hours, eyes and ears wide open. That was how they heard the horses approaching them.
“Sounds like a stampede,” Hendricks said.
“Or thirty outlaws,” Royal said. “We need a place to hole up, let ’em go by us like they did the first time.”
“Hopefully we can do that again,” Hendricks said.
“There’s only two of us this time,” Royal said. “It should be easier.”
“We passed a spot a little further back,” Hendricks pointed out. “At the time I thought it looked like a good place to hide.”
“Rocks and foliage?”
Hendricks nodded.
“I think I know where you mean,” Royal said. “Let’s ride back there.”
They both turned their horses and rode hell-bent-for-leather back the way they came.
* * *
* * *
When they reached the area they were looking for, they immediately dismounted and walked their horses.
“Over here,” Hendricks said, “this almost looks like a cave entrance.”
“What’s inside?” Royal asked.
Hendricks went inside, then came out.
“There’s no roof,” the bartender said, “but the space inside is large enough for us and our horses. We should be able to hide comfortably.”
“All right,” Royal said. “Let’s get the horses inside, then brush away their tracks. After that, we can collect some branches and put them in front of this entrance.”
While Hendricks took the horses inside, Royal found a large branch he could use to brush away their tracks. He was almost finished when he heard something behind him. He turned, thinking it was Lance Hendricks.
It wasn’t.
“Frank Leech,” Royal said.
Leech said, “Dave?” almost in disbelief. He had his pistol pointed at Royal. The two men stared at each other in shock for several seconds.
“It’s Dave Royal, now,” Royal said. “What’re you doin’ here, Frank?”
“Dex sent me on ahead to scout,” Leech said. “I picked up your trail a ways back. Jesus, Dave, Dex is gonna be surprised to see you.”
“I suppose he will,” Royal said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Where’s the rest of your posse?” Leech asked.
“We split up,” Royal said. “I’m sure you could tell that from the tracks.”
“I could also tell there are two of you,” Leech said. “Where’s your partner?”
“I’m alone.”
“Why are you brushin’ away your tracks?” Leech asked.
“Why do you think?”
Leech looked around.
“He’s here somewhere, but I don’t have time to look now,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Dex is gonna want to see you,” Leech said. “After all, it’s been almost ten years.”
* * *
* * *
Leech walked Royal back to his horse. Then he mounted up and made Royal walk farther. Eventually, they heard the horses approaching.
“Just stand still, Dave,” Leech said.
Royal froze, and Leech remained on his horse with his gun pointed at him. When the riders reached them, they formed a circle around the two men. Then Dex Miller joined them in the circle.
“Dave—”
“—Royal,” Dave said. “It’s Dave Royal now. I don’t use the same name I had when I rode with you ten years ago.”
“Has it been ten years, Dave?” Dex asked. “That’s even before I formed the Compound.”
“There were only a few of us then, Dex, remember?” Royal asked. “And we didn’t burn and kill. When you started doin’ that, I left.”
Dex Miller dismounted and walked up to Royal.
“You were my right hand, Dave,” he said. “What happened to you? You went to a town like Cactus, Texas?”
“I drifted for a while before I settled there,” Royal said. “The people welcomed me.”
“And you rode with the posse that killed my boys,” Dex accused.
“I’m sorry about that, Dex,” Royal said. He never knew the boys, because ten years ago they were not riding with their father. “I didn’t know they were your sons, but then I’m not the one who sent them out there.”
Dex Miller’s face grew red and he backhanded Royal across the face. The blow was powerful enough to knock Royal down.
“Is he alone?” Dex asked Leech.
“He had another man with him,” Leech said. “They must’ve split from the others.”
“Take ten men,” Dex said, “and find his partner. Meanwhile”—he looked down at Royal—“he’s gonna tell me where the others are,”
“I don’t think I will, Dex,” Royal said, from the ground.
Dex waved and said, “Pick him up.”
Two of his men came forward, grabbed Royal, and hauled him to his feet. Aside from Dex and Leech, Royal didn’t recognize anyone. These were obviously the men Dex gathered together to make his collections and live in his compound. All of that happened after Dave Royal left.
Dex Miller produced a bowie knife and approached Dave Royal.
“Now,” he said, “how many are there in your posse?”
* * *
* * *
Later, as Dex wiped blood from his knife, Frank Leech said, “You shoulda knowed he wouldn’t talk. He rode with us long enough.”
“He obviously ain’t the same man,” Dex said. “Did they find his partner?”
“Yeah, they did.” Leech waved and two men dragged Lance Hendricks over. The bartender tried not to look down past the bloody corpse of Dave Royal.
“That’s yer partner,” Dex Miller said, pointing. “And he ended up like that because he wouldn’t talk. You wanna end up like that?”
“No, I don’t,” Hendricks said, still not looking down.
“I know he wasn’t a lawman. You ain’t a lawman, are ya?” Dex asked.
“I—I’m a bartender.”
“What the hell are ya doin’ out here, then?” Dex asked.
“I, uh, volunteered for the posse,” he said.
“So you came out here and killed my boys.”
“Look,” Hendricks said, “I’m just doin’ what a posse does. Your sons came into town and killed—”
Dex Miller stepped forward with the bowie knife and jabbed it into Hendricks’s shoulder—not deep, but deep enough to cause pain and draw blood.
“Ahhhh, Jesus!” Hendricks snapped. He couldn’t cover the wound with his hand because he was being held on both sides.
“Now I’m gonna ask you some questions,” Dex said, “and each time you don’t give me an answer I like, I’m gonna stab you. Do you understand?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Good,” Dex said. “How many in your posse?”
* * *
* * *
You wanna head for Cactus?” Leech asked Dex later.
“I think that’s the best way to go,” Dex said.
“Why?”
“Because half the posse is limpin’ back there,” Dex said. “We can probably catch up to them.” He smiled slightly.
“And the other three?” Leech asked. “The sheriff?”
“They’re takin’ a roundabout way because they think it’ll take them around us,” Dex said. “But we’re gonna put ourselves between them and their town.”
“Then why don’t we just go to their town and wait for them?” Leech asked.
“No,” Dex said, “first I wanna take care of the sheriff and his posse. After that, we’ll take care of the whole town.”
“If that’s the way you wanna play it,” Leech said, with a shrug. “Do you wanna bury these two?”
Dex looked down at the bodies of Dave Royal and Lance Hendricks.
“No,” he said, “leave ’em for the buzzards. That’s what they did to my boys.” Dex turned and shouted, “Mount up!”
* * *
* * *
Bregman, Nolan, and Wyler found the buffalo hunters the Comanche had gotten the Big Fifties from. They were lying out on the prairie alongside many of the buffalo they had killed.
Bregman and Wyler watched as Nolan rode up to the three hunters and inspected the bodies.
“Did they scalp them?” Wyler asked.
“No,” Nolan said, “there was no reason to scalp them. They’re just dead.”
“I thought Indians always scalped their victims,” the deputy said.
“For your information,” Nolan said, “it was white men who first started scalping Indians so they could collect bounties without havin’ to drag the bodies for miles.”
“Oh,” Wyler said, looking embarrassed.
“Forget it, kid,” Bregman said. “You didn’t know.”
“The Comanche had two Big Fifties,” Nolan said. “I don’t see a third.”
“The third man was probably the skinner,” Bregman said. “He’d come in after the shooters and collect all the coats.”
“And leave the meat to rot,” Nolan said.
“Most of it,” Bregman said.
“Can we take some meat?” Wyler asked.
“The Comanche won’t like it, if they’re watchin’,” Nolan told him. “We’ll have to make do with beans and jerky—what we have left, anyway.”
“If we had gone north we could’ve stopped in Amarillo,” Nolan said. “Now that we’re committed to south, we could make it to Lubbock. They’d have a telegraph.”
“Doesn’t much matter,” Bregman said. “Cactus doesn’t have one.”
“We could send a telegraph to a nearby town, and they could have somebody ride to Cactus with a warning.”
“That’ll add a couple of days to our ride,” Bregman said. “I wanna start west again soon and head straight for Cactus. If we come to another town that has a telegraph, we’ll do what you suggest, Jake.”
“What if one of us rides to Lubbock?” Nolan asked.
“I’ve got three men left from my ten-man posse,” Bregman pointed out. “Besides, I think one man alone might be too much for the Comanche to resist. Let’s stay together.”
They left the carcasses—human and buffalo—behind and continued on their way.
* * *
* * *
Running Buffalo sent his best braves to follow the two whites and the Cherokee, to make sure they were true to their word. He considered killing them, as he and his braves had killed the buffalo hunters, and if they were all white he might have. But he found himself liking his Cherokee brother, and decided to let them live and travel through his hunting ground. They would probably not live long, anyway, if Dex Miller and his men were after them.
