The Border Empire (26 page)

“I won't argue with that,” Wes said, “but you're armed only with Colts, and they're for close quarters. You'll need Winchesters, and you must know how to use them.”

“We dare not venture into town,” said Tamara. “How are we to get these weapons?”

“I figure these six hombres we're trailing will be well-armed,” Wes replied. “Once we are finished with them, they won't complain if we take a pair of Winchesters and as much of their ammunition as we can use.”

They rode on, reining up when Empty came trotting back to meet them.

“The
perro
warns us,” said El Lobo.

“They've stopped for some reason,” Wes said. “Maybe to rest their horses. It's time we circled around and planned a reception for them. Renita, you and Tamara remain here. I don't want either of you doing anything that could get you killed. Keep your eyes on our back trail. When we open the ball ahead, there could be other riders close enough to hear the shooting. If you see or hear other riders coming, get out of sight pronto.”

Wes and El Lobo swung wide, Empty taking the lead. It was a procedure that Empty knew well, for many times he had guided Nathan Stone during similar maneuvers.

Half a mile ahead, the six gunmen prepared to mount after resting their horses.

“We come too far,” said Shawanna, one of the Mexican-Indian riders.

“Per'ap,” Zopilote conceded, but he made no move to turn back.

They had ridden not more than a mile when there was the sudden bark of a Winchester, and the flat-crowned hat was snatched off Zopilote's head.

“If you're lookin' for us,” Wes shouted, “you've found us. We're givin' you more of a chance than you'd give us. Raise your hands and dismount, slowly.

“Ah,
señor,”
said Zopilote, “you would spare us, knowing we come to kill you?”

“We would,” Wes replied, “if you'll give up your weapons and your horses.”

“Por Dios,”
said the gunman, “you would have us walk the many miles back to town, in disgrace?”

“That,” Wes said, “or you can die right here.”

“You leave us no choice,” Zopilote said. “We dismount.”

“Do not trust them, amigo,” said El Lobo quietly.

It was good advice, and before Wes could respond, the six gunmen spilled out of their saddles. Each had pulled a Winchester from the saddle boot, and even with no cover, they bellied down and all hell broke loose.

 

 

W
es and El Lobo, firing from cover, had an edge. Shawanna and Barbonsio died in the first volley.

“Retiro,”
Zopilote shouted.

The Mexican seized the reins of a horse. One foot in the stirrup, clinging to the side of the animal Indian-style, he managed to escape. But his comrades weren't so fortunate, for the shooting had spooked the rest of the horses. Ryashia, Picado, and Quemodo sprang to their feet and charged, their Winchesters spitting lead. It was an act of desperation, and they were cut down quickly.

“We do not get them all,” El Lobo said. He spoke with some reproach, for he had not favored challenging the gunmen.

“It's my fault, damn it,” said Wes, “but I don't favor gunning a man down without warning, in cold blood.”

“Even when those
hombres
wish to do it to you?” El Lobo asked.

“Even then,” said Wes. “Let the one who escaped tell the others we gunned down five of them without taking a hit. It'll give the rest something to think about. Now, since these coyotes won't be needin' 'em anymore, let's take a pair of Winchesters for Renita and Tamara.”

Wes and El Lobo took two Winchesters and all the ammunition they could find, which would interchange with Winchester or Colt. They then mounted their horses and rode back to join Renita and Tamara.

“We could have shot the one who rode away,” Tamara said, “but we obeyed you.”

“I'm glad you did,” said Wes. “Let him take word to the dragon that hiring extra guns won't stop us.”

“We still haven't accounted for the rest of that bunch that came after us as we were leaving Pablo's barn,” Renita said.

“No,” said Wes, “and that bothers me. They would have lost our trail during the rain, and likely had one hell of a mad on. They must have seen us leaving Pablo's place, and I'm afraid they may have gone there to take their revenge.”

“It is the kind of evil these sons of
el Diablo
would do,” Tamara said.

They soon learned their suspicions were well founded. There were only ashes where the barn and cabin had stood, and along the creek were several mule-drawn carts and a few saddled mules. The Mexicans gathered there saw them coming and hastily began backing away.

“Amigos,”
Tamara cried. “El Diablo Pistolas.”

She trotted her horse toward them, speaking in Spanish, and one—a gray-haired old man-responded. After Tamara spoke to him, he turned to the others and, speaking rapidly, dispelled their fears. Tamara then spoke to Wes, Renita, and El Lobo.

“This is Juan,” she said, pointing to the old one. “He was approaching Pablo's house when the outlaws attacked. He quickly concealed himself and his mule and witnessed the murder of Pablo and Shekeela. They are buried near the creek, and these are friends who have come to pay their respects.”

“Tell them they have nothing to fear from us,” said Wes. “Tell them we will see that the killers pay for what they have done to Pablo and Shekeela.”

Quickly Tamara repeated what Wes had said, and it was Juan who spoke for them all.

“Sí,”
Juan said grimly.
“Matar. Vaya
con Dios.”

There was nothing more Wes and his companions could do, so they rode away.

“Dear God,” said Renita, “those poor people died because they were kind to us.”

“Yes,” Tamara said, “and if it is the last thing we do, we must see that they have not died in vain.”

“Sí,”
said El Lobo.

“From now on,” Wes said, “we'll take the fight to them. By now that bunch gathered in Durango knows we're ridin' south, and they should be headed this way. I think we'll begin searching the hills north of Mexico City. I doubt all those
hombres
will be permitted in town, and that means a camp similar to the one near Durango.”

“Tamara and me have Winchesters now,” Renita said.

“I know,” said Wes, “but how well can you handle them?”

“I don't know,” Renita admitted, “but I intend to find out.”

“I can shoot as well as any man,” said Tamara.

El Lobo looked at her with some amusement, but it swiftly faded, for her dark eyes were a sea of grim, fiery defiance.

“Keep your Winchesters fully loaded, then,” Wes said, “and let's ride.”

Jarvis paced the study of the Sandlin mansion, irritated by Sandlin's habit of keeping him waiting. There was something mysterious about Cord Sandlin, something that didn't quite ring true, and it had begun bothering Jarvis more and more. There was no feeling or compassion within the outlaw band, but it seemed that Sandlin carried the lack of it a step further, to excess. Rarely did Sandlin smile, and even then it never reached the ice-blue of the eyes. Jarvis had never gotten beyond the study, and he wondered what secrets might be concealed within the mansion. There was no sound, but Sandlin was suddenly in the doorway, appearing in an almost ghostly manner.

“I know the Mexican government intends to use soldiers to stop the killing,” Sandlin said. “I want to know why, and what action you have taken.”

“Denton Rucker and his outfit killed a pair of
Mejicanos
and burned their place,” said Jarvis. “Some old Mexican saw the killings and blamed them on us. When I tried to rid us of Rucker and his bunch, they rode out. Bound for the border, I reckon. Our Mexicans—Hidalgo and Ximinez—are havin' conniption fits. Canton and the rest of our bunch is in the hills north of Mexico City. I gave orders in your name to halt all the riders comin' in from Durango.”

“A wise move,” Sandlin said. “Hundreds of armed men riding into town would hasten the use of soldiers. What progress has been made toward riding down the men who would destroy us?”

“None,” said Jarvis. “They shot their way out of a cantina. One of the ten gunmen you hired was killed and three others wounded. The pair of men we're after—along with two of the whores they freed in Mazatlán-were hidden in a barn by a
Mejicano
and his wife. Rucker and his bunch spotted 'em ridin' out and went after them. Rode headlong into an ambush and lost nine men.”

“By God,” Sandlin said, “such stupidity should not go unrewarded. The rest of them should be backed up against a wall and shot.”

“That's close to what I had in mind,” said Jarvis, “but they got wise.”

“Damn it,” Sandlin said, “I can't be away for two days without everything going to hell. What do you suggest we do with this army of men gathering to the north of Mexico City?”

“I don't know,” said Jarvis. “But whatever you choose to do, you'd better do it
muy
pronto. This hairy-legged bunch ain't the kind to hunker out in the woods when there's cantinas within spittin' distance.”

“So the soldiers are only part of the problem,” Sandlin replied.

“Maybe the smallest part,” said Jarvis. “If you aim to use this bunch that's ridin' in from Durango to continue the manhunt, you'll have to do it before the soldiers take over. If you don't, our bunch will become the hunted.”

“When Black Bill Trevino arrives,” Sandlin said, “I want him here. As I recall, he was sent to Durango to organize this manhunt. I want to know why our outfit is scattered all over southern Mexico in a fruitless search, while the troublesome pair we're seeking are raising hell here among us.”

“Black Bill's already here,” said Jarvis, with some relish. “He rode out and joined up with Rucker's outfit in time to ride into that ambush. He charged a pair of Winchesters with a revolver and was wounded. Knocked out of his saddle without firin' a shot. Rode back to town and found himself a doc. I reckon he's here somewhere.”

“Find him,” Sandlin said grimly. “Is there nothing Hidalgo and Ximinez can do to halt the use of the military?”

“Nothing they're
willing
to do,” said Jarvis. “Before this is done, I won't be surprised if the two of 'em run like scared coyotes.”

“I think not,” Sandlin said. “When all or most of the men have arrived from Durango, inform me immediately and I will speak to them. We will conclude our manhunt and these men will return to their outposts before the soldiers take the field.”

“Bueno,”
said Jarvis. “That's the kind of move it'll take to save us.”

Jarvis turned to go and, reaching the door, looked back. Sandlin was gone.

Black Bill Trevino sat in a cantina nursing a drink and a foul temper. The appearance of Jarvis did little to improve his disposition, for Jarvis had long enjoyed a more favorable position within the empire than had Black Bill.

“Sandlin wants to see you,” Jarvis said.

“Thanks for nothin',” said Trevino. He gulped the remainder of his drink, got to his feet, and departed. Watching him go, Jarvis felt a little sorry for him. Cord Sandlin didn't tolerate failure.

 

A Mexican servant escorted Black Bill Trevino into the study where he had been only a few times before. He waited, uneasily clenching and unclenching his fists. He was startled at Sandlin's sudden appearance.

“Sit down,” Sandlin commanded.

Trevino sat, uncertain. Almost immediately a servant appeared with a tray and a pair of drinks. Sandlin took one and nodded to Trevino.

“Thanks,” said Black Bill, “but I just had a drink.”

“Then have another,” Sandlin snapped. “You're going to need it.”

Sandlin's eyes bored into Trevino's, and he almost spilled his drink. He tossed it down in a single gulp, the potency of it causing him to cough and wheeze. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, but his belly felt strange. Sandlin said nothing, but the cold, hard eyes never left Trevino's face. Suddenly a pain ripped through his vitals, doubling him up. There was a second gut-wrenching pain, and Black Bill fell to the floor, groaning in agony. Lying on his back, his pain-stricken eyes met Sandlin's.

“Damn you,” Trevino gasped. “Poison ... is ... a coward's way ... of killin' a ... man....”

“Perhaps,” said Sandlin to the lifeless body, “but it is swift, clean, and with virtually no danger. When you are found, there will be no marks on you.”

 

Leaving the burned-out cabin and barn of Pablo and Shekeela, Wes and his three companions rode northwest.

“We must keep far enough to the west that we don't run into any of them,” Wes said. “After dark, with Empty guiding us, we'll ride east a. ways and see if we can locate their camp.”

“Do not forget,” said Tamara. “When you ride after the outlaws, I do not wish to be left out.”

“Nor I,” Renita said.

“Neither of you will be,” said Wes. “When they all come together, there may well be hundreds of outlaws. It'll likely take all of us to stampede their horses.”

El Lobo laughed. “
Sí
. To Durango, Per'ap.”

“It will be a fitting disgrace,” Tamara said, “and it will further encourage the Mexican people.”