Slocum and the Long Ride (7 page)

“Find a rope, we'll tie them up,” he said to Lupe.

She agreed and picked up the one tied on Slocum's saddle. Barefooted, she brought it over to him. He forced the two men to get on their bellies, and he tied their hands behind their backs.

Meanwhile she took their boots off and threw aside the knives that were concealed on them. She demanded, “Who are you
bastardos
?”

When they didn't answer her, she stomped on the short one's kidneys with her bare heel. “Damn it, tell me, and now.”

“Oh, Mother of God, woman, my arm is killing me. My name is Santo Vantis. His name is Coffee Jack.”

“Why Coffee Jack?” she demanded.

“I don't know. They always call him that.”

“Did you know these men?” Slocum asked her.

“No. You, Santo, tell me how you know me.”

“Don't kick me again. We heard you had gold your dead husband had gathered.”

“Who told you?”

He shook his head. “I don't know his name.”

“I think you must ride with that Gomez and you killed my husband.”

“No, no.”

“Don't lie to me. Tell me or you maybe be made into a gelding.”

“We didn't kill him. Gomez killed him because he never would tell him where he hid his gold. We figured you knew where it was hidden and had gone up there and gotten it.”

“Does Gomez know you came back up here?”

“No.”

“What should we do with them?” She whirled to face Slocum, realizing then that there was a crowd of women who had come to see what had happened there.

She held her hand up to stop Slocum and turned to speak to the crowd. “Did you hear these bandits admit they killed my husband?”

Heads nodded. That was not enough for her. “What should we do with them? The Federales will only turn them loose.”

“Hang them,” one said, and the crowd quickly agreed.

“We will send for our men to come here and do that,” another spoke up.

“No,” a matron-like woman said. “We don't need our men. They killed her husband. We are not helpless. Catch their horses and bring them. I saw a strong-looking limb back there. They have ropes on their saddles. Get them, get them.”

“You don't have to be in on this,” Lupe said to Slocum.

“I am here.” He had no use for the pair of admitted outlaws.

The mob of women who took charge of the two men were not gentle, and they kicked them in their butts to make them move forward. The swelling crowd moved up the road to the west. They had captured their horses as well.

Lupe had gone ahead to help them get the job dome.

Slocum wondered if she might know where her husband had hidden the gold. That was a new twist in her case. Obviously her man had been smart enough to hide the gold he'd panned, and she'd no doubt picked up a lead that might help her locate it. He hoped so. There was nothing he would do to save the two outlaws. They weren't worth saving, but the lack of law in this country also ensured there was no way to imprison them for any amount of time either.

He remained at the edge of the mob of angry women and wondered about the repercussions this lynching could flare up. Word of the hanging would soon spread, and vengeance would come hard on the outspoken ones—Lupe would be a chief suspect.

Ropes were tossed over tree limbs, and the men and their horses were brought into place. One woman with a strong voice gave a prayer. They all knelt and afterward made the sign of the cross on their fronts. The two crying men were put in their saddles, and two women hopped up behind them, one on each of their horses, to set the nooses over their heads. Then the executioners slid off the horses' butts. Both animals were handled at their bridles by two handlers apiece.

An older woman told the handlers to get aside, and they quickly did as she ordered. Then she sliced the air with her arm like an axe and the women behind beat the horses' butts. They spooked away and the two men danced on the ropes. The big man did little of that; his neck must have been broken. The short one strangled, but soon he was still.

All the women were on their knees praying for them, and some were counting rosary beads. The older woman came over.

“Now, señor, what must we do?”

“Cut them down. Burn the nooses in a hot fire, bury them and their saddles in a deep hole. I would take the horses a great distance away from here, cut their throats, and remove their brands. Leave them for the buzzards to eat. Then swear everyone to secrecy. Someone will talk, but what can they find?”

She nodded in agreement. “I appreciate your information. We will do that then go home.”

“If they come for revenge, you must band together as you did today. Her husband's killers are gone. That is good, but there will be some demand for more blood for this last act.”

“I savvy.”

He turned on his heel and started back for his camp. Lupe stopped him. Her eyes were red from crying. In a low voice she said she must help them carry out his instructions. “I will see you in camp.”

“I will be there.”

“I think I know where his gold is hidden now.” She looked at him very seriously.

“That's good.”

She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the mouth. “I owe you much.”

He shook his head, but by then she'd hurried off to help the others.

•   •   •

That night, after they ate some beans for supper, they went to bed together, and she clung to him all night. Twice he awoke and she was whimpering over her loss. He hugged her tightly and she soon slept again. Before dawn, in the canyon's coolest hour, they slipped off naked hand in hand to soak in the hot water.

Neck-deep in the water that was steaming clouds of fog, he asked where she thought the gold might be.

“There is a shrine beside the trail, for a woman and her family who were killed by a band of Apaches on that mountain. I think he may have hid it there. It is a very well-made shrine built by stone craftsmen, and while her name is lost, he called it Mary's Shrine.”

“That may be the place. Good luck. I must go on my way today.”

“I understand, but I live east of here, in the Valley of Fire. Come by and see me if you can. The
puta
I know at St. Barnabas is Carla Miquey. Tell her Lupe sent you.”

“I will do that.”

They kissed, and he departed after breakfast. He was going west again, over the mountain, to reach the road that went south. The hot springs treatment had helped ease his back muscles, but Lupe was still on his mind.

But he rode on—he had promised Dan he'd check out this Gomez's outfit and its strength.

The trip to St. Barnabas took two days, and he stopped at many cantinas, sat with his back to the wall, drank straight mescal, and talked to
putas
who wanted to take him to bed. Instead he fed them and himself and learned all they knew about this outlaw Gomez.

At last, he arrived in what would prove to be the village closest to their hideout. He stabled his horse and took a room in a whorehouse. Business was slow, and the madam told him that for his twenty-five cents he could sleep there but got no free pussy. He went to the busiest cantina, took a place in the shadows, and ordered food and mescal. Soon a young
puta
was there like a buzzard at a cow killing.

“You are lonely back here?” she asked.

He saw her as a skinny dumb girl in his first gaze at her. She scooted close to him and sniffed the fumes coming off his plate of meat, sweet peppers, and onions—and hot ones too.

He handed her a flour tortilla, and she got on her knees on the bench to load it for him from the sizzling pan. Leaned back, he waited for her to get the tortilla wrapped. When she'd completed the task, she fed it to him.

“You like me?” She smiled big at him.

“You will do.”

“Oh, but hombre, I can care for you. You like this no?”

“What do they call you?”

“Roma.”

“Roma, huh?”

“
Sí
. I would make you a wonderful companion.”

“Where would you go?”

“Anywhere you like. I could comfort you at night and in the day care for you.”

“What if I don't need a woman?”

“Oh, I bet when I get through feeding you, you will need one bad.”

“Is there a woman working here named Carla Miquey?”

“No, she went to Porta Dia-yamia with a man who liked her. You know her?”

“No, but a friend of mine said she thought she was here and could help me. Do you know any of Gomez's men?”

She curled her lip. “They are dumb
bastardos
. I hate when they come to town. Are you going to join them?”

He shook his head and took another bite from her wrap. By this time, she had moved to sit astraddle of his lap. When she moved over, she hiked her dress above her butt, and her bare legs surrounded him. It wasn't hard to tell she had no underwear on. But why wear any? She'd just have to take it off for the next guy. She held his tortilla in both hands for him to eat it.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “They are dumb too.”

“How dumb?”

“They make big robberies, but his men do not get paid. He pays them like peons, not soldiers like he needs. You would not talk to them, they are so dumb.”

“But they make big raids.”

“Ah, like an army they have a
generale
and he leads them to their slaughter, no?”

“So all the power is in his hands, huh?”

She gave him another bite. “More or less, huh?”

“Yes, of course. Where is this army headquartered at?”

“Oh, he has a hacienda south of here. It once was a grand place when I was a little girl. Now it is a dried-up turd.”

“Dried-up turd?”

“Yes, he didn't irrigate the grapes and the citrus, and it all died of course.”

“So he doesn't farm any longer?”

“No.”

“How many men are out there?”

“Maybe two dozen, laying around sleeping all day, and they have some old hags out there and he buys them cheap wine.”

“Oh, I thought he had an army.”

She dismissed his concern with a head shake.

He finished his meal and took her to his room in the whorehouse.

“Why do you live here?” she demanded in the street, realizing where he was taking her.

“It is cheap.”

“How cheap?”

“Twenty-five cents a day.”

“Cheap enough.” She raised her skirt hem and crossed the ditch to sashay up the steps ahead of him.

What a yickity-yack he had found this time. Maybe she knew more about Gomez. He would find out. And then perhaps she'd shut up. He hoped that he'd finally get Roma to stop talking. They went in his room and he closed the door. She undressed herself and then began to undress him. He hung up his gun belt on a ladder-back chair.

“That is a pretty holster.” She bent over to look at it. “I like it. You want me in the bed?”

“No. I don't need your body. I need your brain.”

“No, no, you are being sweet to me. I can handle that.” She hugged him, and the top of her head did not come to his chin. She kissed her chest and swirled the hair with her tongue.

He held her out at his arm's length. “Stop. I don't want your body. I have to find out about this outlaw Gomez.”

“People don't expect much from crazy people, do they?”

He let her go now that that was settled.

“No, they sure don't. I can't understand you about half the time,” he said, amused at her, and him seated on the chair to remove his spurs so she could slip off his boots.

“I am going to sleep. You can sleep here if you want to. But you must stop talking. In the morning I am going to check on this outlaw. I don't need a wife or a lover tonight.”

“Why did you bring me here then?”

“'Cause I could not get rid of you.”

“You have a brush? I need to brush my hair.”

His britches on, he bent over and threw her one from his war bag. She went to work brushing her hair hard, and it began to become more manageable. “You got a wife?”

“No.”

“You got a house?”

“No.”

“No wonder you don't have a wife. No house.”

“Who needs a house?”

“For a wife to keep the kids dry inside it.”

“I don't have any kids. How hard would it be to look over Gomez's place?”

“I'd probably have to screw a guard. While you looked inside it, huh?”

“Did I say that?”

“No, but you thought it. Here's your brush back. It is a nice one.”

“You know where I keep it now.”

“Don't me sitting around here naked make you horny?”

“Roma, it does not, and I need to see the inside of his fort tonight.”

She gave him an impatient head toss. “Get dressed and we will get that over with
tonight
.”

“You certain we can get in there and, more important, get out and not get caught?”

“I can distract them and you can slip inside.”

“I would not ask that of you.”

“So what? He won't be the last or the first one to screw me, huh?”

“All right, but I'll make it up with you. Get dressed—”

“Aw hell. Well, next time.” She pouted.

•   •   •

Slocum and Roma, dressed for a long ride, went out, and rode double for Gomez's operation.

The sun was setting fast as they approached the place. She said for Slocum to head for the southwest and they would have some cover, rather then ride across the barren fields and bare vineyard. She pointed the way as the moon began to rise. When they were within a half mile of the dark buildings, they left his horse and went on foot. He had the Spencer rifle, just in case, and wore both bandoliers.

“I will distract the guard and make him go with me behind a wall, so you can slip inside. Be careful—they may not be asleep in there. I can keep him there until you get out. Toss a small pebble over the wall, and I will tell him it was just a bat and leave him. You will wait at the horse for me? I don't come in a while, you go on. I can screw my way out of there.”

They waited until around midnight, then she went ahead and soon struck up a soft conversation with a guard. At last Slocum heard her ask him, “You want some pussy?”

“Sure.”

“Let's go behind the wall and no one will see us.”

“Sure.”

Slocum waited and then watched the guard following her. This was his chance. They had no platforms set up on the walls to shoot off. That was good. They couldn't be up there taking potshots at any attackers. He saw their ammo and guns inside the front door, right adjacent to the entrance. A well-placed arrow shot over that wall with a stick of blasting powder would cause a hell of an explosion. Good he had that down.

In the yard with only a low wall around it was the well. They could be held away from water by just about anyone, unless they crawled out there and no one outside the yard could see them. But they still had to rise up to get the water out—they could be shot then. Bars were on most of the side windows.

Slocum decided he'd seen enough to raid the place and strike hard enough to knock them out. Back inside, he could hear lots of snoring. He came out of the house in a crouching run, threw a small rock over the wall, and beat it outside to some cover.

From cover, he saw Roma and the guard returning in the silver light to his post. He was buttoning his pants and talking to her. He bent over and kissed her, felt her ass, and she left him laughing. She skipped by where Slocum crouched and said softly, “It went fine.”

He watched for anyone trailing her. None came. Then he got up and went to their horse.

“You see it all?” she asked.

“Yes. We can take it. That is what I wanted to see.”

“Now let's go up to this place that is a hideout way back in the tules. There is a cabin up there. Feed for your horse and enough to eat. Nothing fancy.”

“Where is that?”

“I can get you there in the morning.”

“Who owns it?”

“A man I know. I can use it.”

“All right, you deserve my attention for a day or two after all you've done.”

Riding behind him, she hit him on the right shoulder with her fist. “Let's go to the cabin in the morning.”

“I'll be ready.”

•   •   •

They rode out of St. Barnabas before the sun rose and climbed into the mountains on a dim road. Midday they were in the pines, and the air was full of resins and cooler air. With Roma on the back of his cantle and hugging him, the pacing horse made good time getting up there. She pointed Slocum, to a side trail and he took that lead. In a short while, he spotted the small cabin in a grassy meadow where there was also obviously a spring, for there were tules.

“Who owns this?” he asked.

“A man I know. We can use it. It has food and supplies and I have a key to it.”

“This sure looks handy.”

“I have stayed up here before. It is a good place and no one will bother us here.”

“I will keep my guard up. The last place I was at was a women's hot springs. I even delivered a baby there, or the women thought I did. But two of Gomez's men came to kill me and also a woman I met there.”

“Who were they?”

“One was Santo Vantis, and the other Jack somebody.”

“Coffee Jack was his name. He was a big goon that worked for Gomez.”

Slocum leaned over. “They are both playing harps somewhere now.”

She giggled. “No, those two are stoking the fires of hell.”

She made them flour tortillas and wrapped them around some beans she'd cooked. He hobbled the horse, who was harvesting the grass, and got back in time to eat. She sat on his lap, with her dress hiked over her slender ass, and fed him.

“This is like a dream for me. I don't have to go find customers, and we can leisurely do what we want to do for a few days, huh?” She wiggled her butt on his legs.

“Two days and I need to go back to Arizona.”

“Oh. Make it three, or even stay a week.” She kissed him on the mouth.

“Wish I could. But I promised some people I'd get back.”

“Oh, well,” she sighed. “Then I better get busy so you won't want to leave me.”

•   •   •

It was the middle of the night and Slocum woke up in some kind of hell. A flurry of boots were kicking the hell out of him. Roma was fighting like a wildcat and screaming. It was dark as pitch in the cabin, and the attackers were cussing, stinky sweaty ones.

He managed to get up. Then he was tossed aside by a hunk of a man and fell on top of his own Bowie knife, which luckily was flat on the floor. His finger closed on the handle, and his next move was to roll over and slash the attacker's leg. The razor-sharp edge went clear to the man's shinbone, and the victim screamed like a wounded bear. Another man reached for Slocum, and the Bowie blade cut open his lower arm. The attackers were leaving out the door, but he stabbed another in the back before he reached it who gasped and went down. Slocum fell over him, and then he went back for his rifle. In the moonlight he could see the others getting on their horses to flee.

And he took aim. The rifle bucked hard into his shoulder with each shot. The boiling gunpowder smoke burned his eyes. He fired the seven rounds, quickly laying down men and horses. Then he rushed inside, found another tube, and jammed it in the butt.

“Oh, be careful,” Roma said after him.

She was hurt, he knew, but finishing off these raiders was more important for the moment. He hoped her injuries were not serious, as he levered a new round into the chamber and crossed the moonlit meadow. Men lay moaning on the ground all around him. When they tried to rise up to shoot him, he shot them, until they all were dead or at least silent. Then he shot their wounded horses.

He jerked up by his hair one of the attackers who was begging for his life—the last one alive. “Who in the damn hell sent you here?”

“Colonel Gomez.”

He looked down. The man was holding his blood-darkened shirt in both hands. “You're gut-shot, mister. You'd better go to praying that God's coming for you.”

He went back to the house, and Roma staggered out the door. Her face was dark in blood, and she was holding the right side under her palm.

“What's the matter?”

“That big bastard gouged out my eye.”

“Good God, girl. Which one of them was it?”

“The one you cut his leg artery and he's bleeding to death, but my eye socket hurts real bad.”