The Loner: Inferno #12 (19 page)

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Authors: J.A. Johnstone

BOOK: The Loner: Inferno #12
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Chapter 27
 
Slowly, The Kid turned his head to look over his shoulder. Jess stood behind him. She had picked up Kelly’s gun, and was pointing it at The Kid as she held it in both hands. The barrel was rock-steady.
It was the first time he could recall a naked woman pointing a gun at him. It was a pretty unsettling experience.
“Jess, wait a minute. It’s me, Kid Morgan.”
“I know who you are.” Her voice was as steady as the barrel of the gun. “You’re the man who threw in with these scalp hunters.”
“
Pretended
to throw in with them. I only helped them so they’d bring me along and help me get to you and the other prisoners.”
What looked like doubt flickered in her eyes, but she wasn’t convinced yet. “Downstairs you told that one”—the gun jerked toward Kelly’s unconscious form for an instant, then went right back to pointing at The Kid—“that you didn’t care what happened to me.”
“What was I supposed to tell him? I couldn’t tell him the truth. I didn’t want him using the way I feel about you against either of us.”
“How
do
you feel about me?”
“I want to help you,” he answered without hesitation. He was human; the fact that she was nude wasn’t lost on him. But after everything she had gone through, he knew any thoughts of intimacy were the farthest thing from her mind. “That’s all. I want to help you and the other women get away from here.”
“What about the
deal
you have with that Mexican officer?” She packed a lot of scorn into the word
deal
.
The Kid shook his head. “That bargain was between Guzman and Kelly. The only promise I made was to myself, and now I’m making it to you. I’m going to help you get away.”
Finally, she lowered Kelly’s gun. Carefully, she looped her thumb over the hammer and let it down.
Then a shudder went through her and she took a deep breath in an obvious effort to keep her emotions under control. “I need something to wear. My clothes are ruined.”
“We’ll do something about that.” The Kid nodded. “For now, wrap the sheet around yourself.”
Jess used the gun to point at Kelly. “What about him?”
“I’ll make sure he can’t hurt you.”
“Are you going to kill him?” She asked the question in a cold, impersonal voice, as if the answer didn’t matter to her at all.
“No, I’m not going to kill him,” The Kid said, hoping he wouldn’t regret that decision.
He waited until Jess had wrapped one of the bed sheets around her, then tore strips from the other sheet to bind Kelly’s hands and feet. He yanked Kelly’s arms behind his back before he lashed the scalp hunter’s wrists together, and he pulled off the man’s boots so Kelly couldn’t bang the heels on the floor to summon help that way.
The last thing The Kid did was stuff another piece of sheet into Kelly’s mouth and bind it in place to serve as a gag.
While he was doing that, Jess watched him curiously and finally asked, “Why did you come all the way down here into Mexico after us? How did you even know what happened to us?”
He answered her second question first. “I saw the light from the burning wagons in the sky and was about to come back when three Apaches jumped me. They must have been watching the wagon camp and saw me leave that night, so a few of them followed me.”
“You killed them.”
It wasn’t a question, just a flat statement.
The Kid nodded anyway. “Yeah. By the time I got to the wagon camp, it was too late. The wagons were burned, and everybody was dead ... except Milo Farnum. Before he died, he told me what had happened and told me that the Apaches had carried off four prisoners. There was never any doubt in my mind that I’d come after you.”
“Scott ... ?”
“I’m sorry. He and Horace Dunlap and all the others died fighting.”
Jess closed her eyes and lowered her head for a moment. She shuddered again. But then she looked up again. “You didn’t answer my other question. Why did you come after us, Kid? Why was there never any doubt in your mind that you would? The four of us ... we don’t mean anything to you.”
“Everybody means something to somebody,” The Kid said. “If it had been my ... wife ... I would have wanted somebody to go after her and help her.”
“You say that like you’ve got a wife.”
“I did have.”
She didn’t press him for more details, and he was grateful.
“What are you going to do now? Swing in some other window like a giant bat?”
The Kid had been thinking about that, but before he could answer, a soft knock sounded on the door and took him by surprise. He glanced at Jess, but wide-eyed, she shook her head to indicate that she didn’t know who it could be, either.
“Señor Kelly?” a man’s voice called tentatively through the door. The Kid recognized it as belonging to Luis, Guzman’s aide. “Capitán Guzman sent me to find out if you would like a bottle of brandy or anything else we might provide.”
This was a stroke of luck, The Kid thought. He beckoned Jess closer and whispered, “Let him in.”
“
What?”
The Kid bent and pulled Kelly’s still senseless form behind the bed where it wouldn’t be visible from the door.
“Let him in,” he said again. “And let that sheet drop a little. He’s a man.”
Her mouth hardened into a grim line. She let the sheet fall around her midsection so that her breasts were completely bare. “How about this? Enough of a distraction?”
“We’ll find out.” In stocking feet, The Kid moved silently to the door and stood so that he would be behind it when it opened.
For a second he thought Jess was about to laugh, and he took that as a good sign. She hadn’t lost her nerve. She called to Luis, “Just a second,” and went over to the door.
When she opened it, The Kid heard Luis say in a flustered voice, “Señorita, I ... I ...”
“Come on in and bring the brandy,” she told him.
She stepped back, and Luis came into the room. The Kid was ready. Striking like a cat, he brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Luis’s head. He pitched forward, and Jess let go of the sheet completely to grab the bottle of brandy he dropped before it could hit the floor and shatter.
The Kid eased the door closed. “He’s not that much bigger than you. Get his boots and uniform off him and put them on.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to get them fumigated first.”
“I’m afraid not. Your other alternative is to ride away from here naked.”
“I’ll take the uniform.” Jess bent over and started pulling Luis’s boots off, then paused. “Kid, he looks dead.”
The Kid had noticed the clerk’s glassy-eyed stare, too. “I guess I hit him a little too hard.”
“That’s a shame,” Jess muttered. “He didn’t seem quite as bad as the rest.”
“He worked for Guzman,” The Kid pointed out. “That means he helped sell hundreds of helpless prisoners into slavery. Maybe more than that.”
“That’s true. Good riddance.”
While Jess was getting dressed, The Kid went back to the door and eased it open a crack. He put his eye to the gap and looked along the corridor as best he could. A Rurale lounged at the landing, as if standing guard but not being too diligent about it.
Still, the man must have seen Luis go into the room. After a while he might wonder why the clerk didn’t come back out.
“How do I look?” Jess asked.
The Kid glanced around. The uniform was too big on her, but not by much. “It’ll do.” His eyes narrowed in thought. “Blow out that lamp.”
“What are you going to do?”
“It’s a matter of what you’re going to do. You’re about to join the Rurales.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Blow out the lamp so it’s dark in here. The only light in the corridor is down at the far end, so that guard won’t be able to see very well.”
Jess lifted a hand to her blond hair. “I think it’ll still be light enough for him to tell that I’m not Luis, or whatever his name was.”
“If you stepped all the way out, he might. But you’re just going to put an arm out and motion him down here. He’ll see the uniform and think you’re Luis, all right.”
“I don’t know,” Jess said dubiously. “Seems like a long chance to me.”
“That’s the only kind we have these days.”
“I guess you’re right.” She bent over and blew out the lamp. “If I can get him to come down here, what then?”
“Leave that to me,” The Kid said.
Jess went to the door and opened it. She put her right foot just outside.
“Hsst!”
Extending her arm into the corridor, she crooked her fingers in a beckoning motion at the guard.
The Kid heard footsteps clumping along the hall.
“Stay there,” he whispered to Jess. Just enough light penetrated from the corridor for him to see the tense, strained lines in which her face was set.
With a coarse chuckle, the guard asked in Spanish, “What is it? Does the American want an audience to watch?”
“Pull back,” The Kid breathed. “Slow.”
Jess retreated into the room, and a second later the guard’s bulk stood in the doorway. The Kid’s hands shot out, grabbed the lapels of the man’s uniform jacket, and hauled him into the room, swinging him around so that he crashed into the wall.
The guard was too surprised to put up a fight. The Kid grabbed him by the throat, cutting off any sound, and lifted a knee into the man’s groin.
Jess stepped close to the struggling figures and plucked a knife from behind the guard’s belt. She was about to stab him when The Kid saw what she was doing and knocked her away with a shoulder. He kneed the guard a second time and forced him to the floor, still choking the life out of him.
A few minutes later, he felt a shudder go through the man’s body. He checked for a pulse but didn’t find one.
Jess closed the door, then came over and whispered, “Why didn’t you let me stab him?”
“Because that would have gotten blood on his uniform, and we need this uniform, too.”
“What ... Oh.”
The Kid was already pulling the dead man’s boots off. The pearl-gray trousers and jacket came next. He pulled off his own clothes and donned the uniform, including the boots. He buckled the guard’s gunbelt around his hips. When he picked up the steeple-crowned sombrero from the floor where it had fallen and settled it on his head, he asked Jess, “What do you think?”
“You’ll pass for one of them ... from a distance.”
“I’m hoping that’s good enough.”
“What if somebody heard that crash when you threw him against the wall?”
“They’re not likely to think anything about it. They’ll just assume Kelly was getting rough with you.”
“He would have, too, the son of a bitch. Can I kick him? Maybe break his nose?”
“We don’t have time. Guzman will start wondering pretty soon what’s taking Luis so long. We have to get the other women and get out of here.”
He turned toward the door, but Jess stopped him by putting her hand on his arm. “Kid ... I appreciate what you’re doing, and Lord knows I’d rather die fighting than go through what they’ve got in mind for us ... but we’re not getting out of here and you know it. We’re going to get killed, all of us.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
She smiled, leaned closer to him, and brushed her lips across his in a brief kiss. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter 28
 
The Kid didn’t know whether Valdez had finished scalping the dead Apaches in the courtyard, so the Mexican was something of a wild card. But he would deal with that once he had taken care of Chess, who was in the next room with Violet Price.
Easing the door open, The Kid checked the hallway. It was empty, so he stepped out, looked back at Jess, giving her an encouraging nod, and walked quietly along the corridor to the next door.
The Kid knocked softly. An irritated-sounding Chess asked from inside, “What is it, damn it?”
Making his voice guttural and hard to recognize—he hoped—The Kid said, “El Capitán Guzman ...”
His voice trailed off into a mumble as he slipped his Colt from its holster. Quick footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. Chess jerked it open, and saw what appeared to be one of the Rurales standing there. “What the hell does Guzman—”
The Kid’s arm lashed out and the gun in his hand smacked against Chess’s skull. The scalp hunter, who was wearing only the bottom half of a pair of long underwear, folded up and hit the floor, out cold.
“Oh, my God,” Violet Price said in a dull voice as The Kid stepped over Chess’s body into the room. “Not another—”
She stopped short as he lifted his head and let her see his face under the wide brim of the sombrero.
“Mr. Morgan!”
The Kid reached down, caught hold of one of Chess’s ankles, and dragged him into the room so he could close the door. By the time he turned back to Violet, she had pulled up the sheet on the bed where she sat and wrapped it around her.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“As ... as all right as I’m going to be. But you”—anger darkened her eyes—“you took my Elsie—”
The Kid held up a hand to stop her. “Elsie’s fine. I didn’t hurt her. In fact I’m going to help all of you ladies get out of here.”
“But you ... you’re one of those awful men ...”
“I let them think that,” The Kid explained. “Really I’ve been trying to catch up with you and the others ever since the Apaches attacked the wagon camp.”
A shudder went through her at those awful memories. “My husband ... the rest of my children. . .”
“I know it’s hard, but don’t think about them right now. You and Elsie are alive, and that’s the most important thing. You can grieve later.”
Violet swallowed and managed to nod. “You’re right. I have to be strong ... for Elsie.”
“And she’ll be strong for you.” The Kid nodded toward Chess. “I’m going to tie him up and gag him so he can’t cause any trouble. As soon as I’m gone, get dressed. I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.” He inclined his head toward the next room. “Do you know if Valdez is in there with Leah yet?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything, but ... I wasn’t really paying attention. I was trying to make myself ... not be here in my mind. You know what I mean?”
The Kid nodded. “I know.” He got to work trussing up Chess.
When he was finished, he checked the hall and slipped out of the room. He went to the next door and leaned close to it, listening intently in an attempt to determine if Valdez and Leah Gabbert were in there.
He got his answer in the form of a frantic scream.
The Kid didn’t wait. His hand shot to the knob and twisted it. The door wasn’t locked. He threw it open and rushed into the room.
Valdez was on the bed with Leah. The redheaded girl was struggling frantically underneath him, swatting at him with hysterical but ineffectual blows. Valdez glanced over his shoulder, saw the uniform-clad figure coming into the room, and obviously mistook the newcomer for one of Guzman’s Rurales.
“Ah,
muchacho
!” Valdez said. “Give me a hand with this one. She is loco, but if you help me, you can have a turn with her, too.”
The Kid moved swiftly to the side of the bed. The leering smile on Valdez’s ugly face disappeared, replaced with a look of startled recognition. The look vanished as The Kid slammed the gun in his hand across Valdez’s face, crushing bone and cartilage and tearing flesh. Blood spurted from the man’s broken nose and welled from his mouth as he slumped on top of Leah.
The Kid grabbed Valdez’s arm and rolled him off her, onto the floor, where he landed with a solid thump. Leah screamed again. She didn’t recognize him, The Kid knew, but saw him as another menacing figure who wanted to hurt her.
He had to quiet her down and calm her, but wasn’t sure how to. At that moment Jess hurried into the room and went directly to the bed. She sat down and gathered Leah into her arms, talking softly in a crooning voice.
She glanced up at The Kid. “I thought you might have trouble with her, so I risked being spotted. There was nobody out there to see me.”
The Kid picked up Valdez’s sombrero from the chair where it sat along with the rest of the Mexican’s clothes and tossed it on the bed next to Jess. “You can tuck your hair up into that. It’s not exactly the same style as the Rurales wear, but maybe it’s close enough to get by for a little while.”
She nodded her understanding. Leah had stopped screaming and just whimpered as Jess consoled her.
“Stay here with her,” The Kid said. “I’ll fetch Mrs. Price and Elsie.”
“Then what?” Jess asked.
“We’ll try to make it to the corral and get some horses.”
“How’s that going to help us? The gates are closed, and those Rurales aren’t going to open them for us.”
“Let me worry about that,” The Kid said.
And in fact he had already been worrying about it. He had the glimmer of an idea, but so far that was all.
He left Jess and Leah and went next door. Violet Price had pulled her tattered dress back on and had Chess’s gun in her hand when The Kid came in. He motioned for her to lower the revolver.
“I know how to shoot,” she said. “My ... my husband made sure of that before we came west. I thought it would be a good idea to take this man’s gun with me when we leave.”
“It’s an excellent idea. Are you ready?”
She hefted the revolver. “I have everything I need ... except my daughter.”
“I’m going to get her right now.” The Kid checked the corridor and motioned her out. “Go next door with Jess and Leah. I’ll be right back with Elsie.”
When he opened the door into the room where he had taken Elsie earlier, he didn’t see her. Alarm went through him for a second as he whispered, “Elsie?”
“Oh, thank God!” The exclamation came from behind the door, then Elsie appeared around it. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought maybe I should try to hide ...” Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened. “You’re dressed like one of the Mexicans!”
“That’s going to help us get out of here,” The Kid told her. “Come on. Your mother’s waiting.”
“Is she all right?” Elsie asked anxiously.
“She is.”
The next few minutes were busy ones as The Kid gathered the four women. He gave Valdez’s revolver to Jess. The Rurales guard he had killed hadn’t been carrying a handgun, but he had a rifle, so The Kid turned that weapon over to Elsie and showed her how to shoot it. All of them stuffed as much extra ammunition as they could into their pockets.
He didn’t give Leah a gun. With the mental state she was in, she didn’t need to be armed. It was going to be difficult enough just getting her to cooperate and do as she was told, although she had calmed down considerably since Jess had comforted her.
The Kid went to the window and studied the compound. It was quiet, with most of the Rurales having already turned in. There were still guards on the walls.
He pulled one of the sheets off the bed and started tearing it into strips.
“Give me a hand,” he told Jess. “We’re going to make a rope and climb down from this window.”
“I’m not sure Leah can do that,” Jess said.
“You’ll have to talk her into it. Trying to go out the front door is too risky.”
Jess and Elsie started tearing up the other sheet. It didn’t take long for The Kid to braid and knot the strips together and fashion a makeshift rope that was sturdy enough to support them. He tied one end to the bed, then stood next to the window, holding the rope.
“I’ll climb down first,” Jess said. “Leah, you’ll come right after me, won’t you?”
Leah’s face was tear-streaked and her eyes were still wide and rolling like those of a spooked mustang, but she nodded and seemed to understand what Jess had said. Jess smiled and patted her on the shoulder.
Without hesitation, Jess swung out the window and went down the makeshift rope hand over hand. Violet and Elsie helped Leah through the opening. The Kid held his breath, but Leah managed to climb down into Jess’s welcoming arms.
Elsie went next, then Violet. Jess kept them all pressed close to the building in the shadows. When all four women were on the ground, The Kid leaned out the window and handed the rifle down, then pulled up the knotted bedsheet and left it in the room. He didn’t want the rope hanging out to attract attention. He climbed through the window, hung from his hands, and dropped the five or six feet to the ground, landing agilely.
“The corral is over there,” he whispered to Jess as he pointed out the enclosure. “The four of you head for it, and stay in the shadows as much as you can. I’m hoping that if anybody sees you, they’ll take you for one of the Rurales and think that you’re escorting the prisoners to the barracks.”
“Why would they be taking us to—Oh.”
“Yeah, it would be just like Guzman to let his men have some sport once Kelly and the others were through with you.”
“Some sport,” Jess said bitterly. “The bastards.”
“You’ll get no argument from me. I’ll join you at the corral in a few minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“To make us a way out of here.”
She was puzzled, but didn’t ask questions. While she herded the other three women toward the corral, The Kid headed for the powder magazine.
The stone building stood next to the wall of the compound, with only a narrow gap between the two. The Kid hoped it wasn’t locked.
Luck was with him there. The door was latched but not locked. He slipped inside. The darkness was almost absolute, but he couldn’t risk striking a match with that much powder around. Working by feel, he found two kegs. He used his knife to pry the lids off both and reached inside to find the gritty, slightly greasy feel of gunpowder.
He had left the door open a crack. Looking through the gap and not seeing anyone, he moved outside with the kegs. It took only a moment to shove both kegs into the gap between the magazine and the wall.
With his background in railroad construction, he had worked in the past with dynamite and blasting powder. Gunpowder was a little different, but it would still explode. Dipping a hand into one of the kegs, he laid a trail of powder to the corner of the building. It would burn fast, so he wouldn’t have much time.
An idea occurred to him. Patting the pockets of the uniform he had taken off the dead Rurale, he found a thin black cigarillo in one of them. The Kid had put his own matches in one of the pockets. He took one out and leaned into the narrow opening behind the magazine so the sudden flare of light wouldn’t be noticed as he struck the match.
He puffed the cigar into life and quickly smoked it down to about half its length. The coal on its end glowed redly as he set it on the ground with the unlit end in the powder trail. That would give him a little more time, but he had to rely on the cigarillo not going out before it reached the powder. If that happened ...
If that happened he would think of something else, The Kid told himself. Leaving the burning cigarillo and the gunpowder behind, he hurried toward the corral.
The women were waiting beside a shed where feed and tack were stored. Jess hissed at The Kid as he came up to let him know where they were.
“Stay here,” he told them. “I’ll saddle some horses for us.”
With another glance at the guard towers and the parapet, he opened the gate and slipped into the corral. The Rurales still had their attention focused outward. The idea that there could be a threat inside the compound obviously hadn’t occurred to them.
The Kid found his own saddle in the tack room that opened into the corral. He didn’t waste any time getting it on his dun. Having somebody poking around inside the corral in the dark made the other horses a little skittish. He hoped they wouldn’t move around so much they attracted the attention of the guards.
As he worked, he wished he knew whether or not that cigarillo was still burning down toward the powder. All he could do was get some other horses saddled and wait.
When he had the dun and four other horses ready to ride, he held their reins and led them over to the gate. He handed the reins of two of the horses to Jess. “You’ll probably have to lead Leah’s horse. Can you do that?”
“If it means getting out of here, you’re damned right I can.”

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