Savage Spirit (22 page)

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Authors: Cassie Edwards

BOOK: Savage Spirit
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"Soon you will see," the man said. He threw her across the back of his horse and tied her wrists together, then her ankles. She was left to hang over the horse like a sack of potatoes. Quickly the blood rushed to her head, dizzying her.

Yet she was rational enough to think through things that flooded her with guilt and regrets. She had been proven wrong about Cloud Eagle. What he had said about the Englishman was true, or else why would Sandy Whiskers give orders to abduct her?

She had to wonder if this outlaw gang would have gone as far as entering Cloud Eagle's village   to abduct her. If so, who else would have been taken captive?

When the horse broke into a lope across the parched land, Alicia was given one more glance at Gray as the outlaws rode past his body, and this time she noticed the blood on his matted gray fur.

He had been knifed.

He was more than likely dead.

She squeezed her eyes closed, but that did not trap the tears behind her lids. They seeped from the corners in silver rivulets down her dust-covered face.

Because of her, Gray was dead.

Because of her inability to trust Cloud Eagle, everything had changed.

Not only for herself, but for Cloud Eagle.

As the horse rode onward, Alicia could not help but grunt and groan with each of its movements. As each minute passed, she discovered a new pain, a new ache.

But she welcomed the discomfort. As long as she could concentrate on that, she was not plagued so much with guilt over Cloud Eagle or Gray.

She was even temporarily able to set aside her worries about her welfare once she reached Sandy Whiskers' outpost.

It came to her in splashes of anger that if what Cloud Eagle had said was true, what he had tried to prove to her by taking her to the Englishman's outpost was true, that meant that Sandy Whiskers
was
the one responsible for her brother's disappearance and possible death.

Not her beloved Cloud Eagle.

A sob lodged in her throat when thoughts of   Cloud Eagle seeped into her mind somewhere amidst her pain and misery and guilt.

If she had only believed him.

If she had only trusted him.

And what of her brother? What sort of end had he met at the hands of the renegades and outlaws?

What they had just put her through had been terrifying.

And she was a woman.

Charlie was a man, and they might make his death even more insufferable. . . .

When she glanced over her shoulder and saw that they were approaching Sandy Whiskers' outpost, anger turned to fear.

She recalled a wall at the back of Sandy Whiskers' cabin. She had often wondered why it was there and how it was used. She was afraid that she was soon to find out.

Watching guardedly as well as she could from her position on the horse, Alicia saw the gate as the outlaw gang rode their horses through it.

Once inside, several other armed men on foot surrounded the horse on which she was held captive. They laughed and poked at her with the butts of their rifles.

She winced with pain as one jabbed her on her leg that was almost healed but now throbbed like a dozen toothaches.

She stifled a cry of wrenching pain when one of the rifles glanced across her head.

Then she scarcely breathed when the horse stopped.

She watched as the man on whose horse she had traveled dismounted and came to yank her from the horse in one jerk.   Moaning, she fell to the ground in a heap.

She fought back tears, then sucked in a wild breath when she suddenly saw Sandy Whiskers, standing over her, his fists on his hips.

"So, pretty lady, you have come to visit Sandy Whiskers again so soon?" he said, chuckling beneath his breath. "This time you do not bring your Apache friend? What a shame."

Hating him with a passion, Alicia glared up at him. She could not help but cry out when one of the outlaws kicked her in the back. She tried to move away from the offender, but was stopped when Sandy Whiskers placed a heavy foot on her stomach.

"Pretty lady, you aren't going anywhere," he snarled. "You brought me big trouble when you gave the Apache chief cause to come and ask questions about the painting. For this you will pay."

Alicia trembled and watched Sandy Whiskers as he shouted commands to his men. She had wanted to tell him what she thought of him, but some of her usual spunk and energy had been drained from her by the shock of having been treated so cruelly, and from the realization of how wrong she had been about Cloud Eagle.

She wanted to scream at Sandy Whiskers and ask him about her brother.

But she could not find the courage.

She feared hearing Charlie's fate in his answer.

Her breath was knocked from her when another outlaw kicked her in the stomach, then untied her ankles and wrists and yanked her up from the ground by the arm.

Struggling to regain her breath, Alicia inhaled   shakily, then stumbled as one of the men gave her a shove.

"Walk ahead of me," he said brusquely. "Do not falter again or you will be sorry."

Alicia gave him a sour look over her shoulder, then determinedly took each step with caution. Her eyes grew wide and her heart skipped a beat when she was pointed in the direction of the wall behind Sandy Whiskers' cabin. She felt helpless and she feared for her next moments of life. Being Sandy Whiskers' prisoner most certainly differed from having been Cloud Eagle's when he had forced her to go with him to his stronghold after he had found her injured on the California Road.

An armed guard flung the gate open. Alicia was shoved through it. She walked onward. Seeing nothing suspicious somewhat alleviated her fear. Squatted behind the wall was a long building made from logs. It seemed innocent enough until a mind-wrenching scream from the building broke through the silence of the morning. It caused the hair to rise at the nape of her neck. The scream was feminine. It had sounded as though it came from someone who was being tortured.

Alicia swallowed hard and again became cold inside with fear as she listened for more screams.

But everything was now strangely quiet.

Birds no longer sang in the cluster of cottonwood trees near the building.

It was as though the woman's screams had silenced the whole world.

An armed guard with a face shadowed with dark, wiry whiskers opened the door that led inside the long building.   Alicia was shoved inside.

When she steadied herself, and her eyes grew accustomed to the dark room, panic filled her.

The building was divided into two parts. She could see down one side. The full length of that part of the building was wide open, and she could see everything in it. Her insides recoiled at her discovery.

Cages. Many cages filled the room.

And to her horror, they were filled with women, both white and red-skinned!

Built of cedar, the cages were set on sturdy tables placed against the wall. From a quick calculation she surmised that the small cages were about four feet high, four feet long, and four feet wide.

''And so, pretty lady, you see my collection?" Sandy Whiskers bragged as he stepped to Alicia's side. "I think you'll look even prettier in such a cage yourself."

He nodded at the guard, who promptly grabbed Alicia by the arm again and pushed her toward the caged women.

Panic-filled, Alicia yanked herself free, shoved the guard aside, and ran toward the door.

Sandy Whiskers blocked her way. He drew his heavy pistol and aimed it at her as Alicia slowly backed away from him. "Do as you are told, Alicia, or my guard will kill you instead of just locking you up."

The blood rushed from Alicia's face and her heart skipped a beat. "What?" she gasped. She stopped and stared at Sandy Whiskers.

"The women?" Sandy Whiskers said, waving toward the caged women with his gun. "They have been impregnated by my men."   "Good Lord," Alicia said, her knees growing weak.

"The women are held until they become pregnant," Sandy Whiskers said, obviously getting a delight out of telling Alicia what her future held for her. "The pregnant women then bring a high price with the purchaser, anticipating a birth that will add to his wealth."

"I should have listened to Cloud Eagle," Alicia hissed, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Sandy Whiskers. "He warned me about you."

Sandy Whiskers threw his head back in a fit of laughter, then sobered and grabbed Alicia by the shoulders as he stared into her defiant eyes. "He thinks he knows so much," he growled. "But he does not know about my breeding program. I do not sell all of the pregnant women that you see in the cages. I keep many to use in my breeding program, with a birth goal of four children per woman. The children are sold to rich ranchers in New Mexico and to rich mine owners, who raise the children to use in the copper mines."

"You are sick," Alicia said, her voice hollow.

"You can call me anything you wish," Sandy Whiskers said, shrugging. "It doesn't matter. There's no one here who cares what you say about anyone or anything."

He motioned with his gun again toward the guard. "Get her in a cage and if she keeps mouthing off, gag her," he said. He gave Alicia a mocking smile. "Perhaps it will be
I
who will impregnate you. It will be my pleasure, pretty lady. I've had my eyes on you for quite some time. You see, I looked past your man's breeches and shirt. I knew what lay beneath them had to be something special. Perhaps I shall soon see
how
special."   "I'll kill you first," Alicia said, then pain flooded her senses when the guard knocked her across the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.

She fell to the floor, senseless, only half aware of what was then happening to her.

She could hear women crying on all sides of her.

She could hear them begging Sandy Whiskers to set them free.

She knew that she was being dragged, then lifted.

Alicia opened her eyes and through the haze of pain saw that she was being placed in one of the cages. She was aware enough of what was happening to realize that the cage was designed for no freedom of movement. She could neither stand nor lie down. She remained in a folded position.

She moaned as her hands were lashed behind her and her head was forced between her knees. She scarcely heard Sandy Whiskers as he taunted her. His voice seemed to come from some deep, dark tunnel.

His parting laughter rang in her ears.

She heard this until it became only a faint sound as she slipped into a black void of unconsciousness.

 

His roan traveling at a slow trot, Cloud Eagle continued to follow Alicia's and Gray's tracks. It was the dry season. The grass that had been trampled did not "come back," but gradually became flattened, dried, and turned, finally to dust.

And he knew every spring, water hole, canyon, and crevice. A skilled tracker such as he was as clever as the most erudite scholar who traced, read, and translated the choreography of past   ages in his cold, dark cubicle.

Suddenly Cloud Eagle drew a tight rein and stopped. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he gazed ahead to where he had noticed something lying still in the sand.

"Gray," he said, numb at the sight of his coyote lying so apparently lifeless beneath the beating rays of the sun.

Then his heart faltered and the pit of his stomach grew weak as he looked quickly on all sides of Gray for Alicia. When he did not see her, he was torn with feelings. If she was not there, then she might still be alive.

Yet if she was, where was she?

And why had she abandoned Gray?

He knew the affection she felt for his coyote.

"Follow me!" he cried, motioning with his hand to his warriors.

He rode hard until he reached Gray. He drew his horse into a shuddering halt and leapt from the saddle.

Gnats and flies buzzed around Gray, and the dried and matted blood on his pet coyote's fur sent Cloud Eagle's heart to reeling.

After shooing the gnats and flies away, Cloud Eagle knelt beside Gray and checked to see if there was a pulse at the base of his throat.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he found one, then inspected the wound. It was a clean knife wound that had obviously just missed Gray's heart.

Although Gray had lost a good amount of blood, Cloud Eagle felt as though his pet coyote had a chance of surviving if he was cared for right away.

He gave abrupt orders to two of his warriors.   One of them picked Gray up in his arms and carried him to his horse. Gently laying him over the saddle in front of him, the warrior mounted, then rode away toward his stronghold.

Cloud Eagle walked slowly around and checked all the hoofprints that had seemed to stop at Gray, then went in another direction away from Gray.

He went stone cold inside when he found Alicia's footprints, then noticed strange long marks that followed along behind one of the horse's prints.

"Someone was dragged behind a horse," Cloud Eagle said, more to himself than anyone else.

Then it hit him like a thunderclap who it must have been.

Alicia!

She and Gray had been traveling together.

Gray had been knifed.

Surely Alicia's life had been spared by her assailants, but her fate was now in question.

He wandered onward for a while longer, studying the tracks, then concluded that he was right to believe that Alicia was the one who was being treated so cruelly, and the one who was carried away on a horse.

He glared in the direction of the tracks and concluded where they would eventually lead.

"Sandy Whiskers," he hissed between clenched teeth. "She has been taken to his outpost."

He turned and faced his men. He told them his conclusions, then said, "We will attack Sandy Whiskers' outpost in the early morning hours when his men will least likely be on guard."

He moved into his saddle in one leap and waved his rifle in the air. His warriors followed him. The air trembled with the shriek of war whoops.  

Chapter Twenty

Alicia was awakened with a start when a scream filled the air. Her eyes jerked open in time to see a burly man unleash the cage door beside her. With one powerful, practiced motion, he jerked the woman from the cage and slammed her onto the floor.

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