Lone Star 05 (21 page)

“He's a brave one, isn't he, Miss Starbuck? You've chosen a real scrapper, as they say. And your other friend, Mr. Ki over there, he hasn't said a word. I wonder what is going on in his crafty Asian mind. I know his people, the Nipponese. They are a dangerous people when cornered. No doubt he is trying to think of some way to escape.”

The German's voice, which grated on them all, droned on with sinister precision. “Perhaps he too will be left behind. A pity, though. Such a talented fighting man. It
would
be a waste. But we shall see.”

The remaining hours of daylight dragged on interminably. Soon the prisoners were numb from lack of circulation. The promised meal never came. Instead of cooking, Bailey joined the others—including the kid—in a drinking party. Bottles of whiskey circulated among them and soon they were drunk and laughing raucously. Even the Mormon, Morris, joined in the drinking, sometimes looking over at Cynthia.

Mueller sat apart from them, scribbling in a notebook by the firelight. He seemed lost in his own world and did not touch a drop of the liquor.

The Mormon girl, exhausted after her long, futile ride, was asleep against a rock. Jessie, Thad, and Ki, however, were wide awake, watching their captors. At one point Ki edged closer to Jessie, darkness screening his slow movements. “Jessie,” he whispered. “I have a knife. I hid it in the bottom of my shoe before we surrendered.”

“But how can we get at it without them seeing us?” she asked. “Even though they're drinking, they'll be watching us.”

“We must take the chance,” the samurai said. He knew it was a last gamble, but they had to take it. He explained to her his plan. Thad listened to him and agreed.

Ki lay down and curled up as if he were going to sleep. He moved his feet back toward Jessie who, shifting carefully and slowly, contacted his shoe with her bound hands. She had just enough freedom of movement to remove the rope-soled cotton slipper from his foot and find the knife there, his
ho-tachi
blade.

Then she and Thad scooted together, back to back. She kept her gaze glued to Mueller, who seemed to be lost in his writing. Manuevering the blade gingerly, she applied it to the ropes that tied Thad's wrists together. Hoping not to cut him, she worked it blindly, feeling the hemp strands give way beneath the razor-sharp blade. It took a full fifteen minutes to sever the rope. The last cord gave way and Thad's hands were free.

Jessie sighed in relief. She dropped the knife and Thad picked it up, his hands still behind his back as if they were tied. He deftly cut her bonds. By this time, Ki had moved around so that his hands now were within Jessie's reach. She bent slightly toward him, secretly slicing his ropes. Another ten minutes and they were all free. They remained where they were, however, biding their time for an opportunity to move against Mueller.

That opportunity came soon enough, though not as they would have wished it. The men by the fire had finished their whiskey. Mueller ordered them to keep quiet and he unpacked his bedroll and prepared to go to sleep. The hardcases made as if to do the same, with Solomon Morris and the man named Bailey agreeing to take the first watch.

The fire burned down to coals, giving off very little heat. The night was cold, and Jessie found herself shivering. How different this was from the night before last, when she had lain in Thad's arms and he had loved her. She stole a glance at the bounty hunter. He looked back at her, his dark eyes shining. Yes, he was ready to take that gamble too. He'd rather be dead than be bound by another man. That was what she liked about him.

Ki, for his part, was as alert and poised as a rattlesnake, ready to strike when the time came—even though he feigned sleep. Reclining there, he could spring to his feet in a single swift motion and be ready to fight. Every muscle, every nerve was tensed for that moment, that call to action.

By the time the hardcases were in their bedrolls, the two watchmen were up and pacing back and forth on the other side of the embers, talking in muffled voices. It was clear that they did not want to wake the others. They checked on Mueller and found the German sound asleep, replenishing his energy for the difficult day ahead.

The kid, too, was enjoying his first real sleep in many nights. A free man now, he thought his worst troubles were behind him.

When they were certain that everyone else was oblivious to their movements, Morris and Bailey came over to the captives. Jessie and Thad, too, pretended to be asleep. Through their half-closed eyes they watched as the two men approached Cynthia.

“The little bitch,” Morris hissed, barely audible. “I'll teach her to run away from her man. Here, you tie this around her mouth while I hold her.” Morris took a twisted handkerchief from his pocket. He gave it to the other man and bent down over his wife; he clamped a big hand over her mouth, startling her awake. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Morris lifted his hand just long enough for Bailey to stuff part of the kerchief into her mouth and tie it tightly behind her neck.

“There, that does it,” the big Mormon said. “Now let's get her away from here. And be quiet about it.” He lifted her feet and Bailey took her shoulders and they carried her off, disappearing into the darkness. The rest of the camp continued to sleep.

Ki was on his feet in a flash, the
ho-tachi
in his hand. He slipped silently after the men. He found them not too far away. They had the girl on the ground and Morris was bent over her. The Mormon grasped Cynthia's dress and tore it off. He grunted and worked his fly loose. The other man watched with fascination as Morris prepared to rape her.

Both men were too intent on the degrading spectacle to notice the samurai moving stealthily toward them.

Bailey, his hands pinning the girl's shoulders to the earth, said, “Christ, Morris, you really gonna bull this little cow right here?”

“Shut up and hold her still.” The girl was struggling as best she could, but to no avail. The muscular, bearded Mormon bore down on her. He had his hardening organ in one hand, the other holding her legs apart.

“This is all you're good for, you bitch. Slut. How many men have stuck theirs into you? Huh? You been laying with other men since you married me, haven't you? Well, I'm gonna teach you a lesson, girl. When I'm finished with you, no man will look at you.”

Rapt, unable to tear his eyes away from the filthy scene, Bailey watched Morris lower himself onto Cynthia. He did not have time to react to the cold crunch of pain in his neck as Ki felled him with a knife-hand chop. The Japanese struck so hard that he snapped the man's collar bone. Bailey was in a heap on the ground, unconscious and uncaring.

Morris was so intent upon the girl that he was unaware at first that Bailey had been taken out. The girl saw everything, registering shock and relief in her lovely eyes. She watched as Ki moved around behind the Mormon. Then, without warning, he grabbed Morris by the shoulders and pulled him off the girl.

“Aagh!” Solomon Morris cried out. His pants at his feet, he could not balance himself. He fell backward and Ki muffled his mouth before rendering him lifeless with the
ho-tachi
knife. He sliced the man's neck wide open and blood flowed out like water. The big Mormon lay dead at the girl's feet. His face was warped in a grotesque death mask. He'd abuse no more wives after this night.

Ki pulled Cynthia's torn dress over her, temporarily covering her nakedness. Then he ungagged her and released her hands. She threw her arms around him, sobbing. She had just seen her husband killed, and even though she hated him, the sight made her sick. She sought comfort with Ki. He held her for a moment and then pried her loose.

“Not a sound,” he told her.

She contained herself and followed him back to the others. Ki made certain to lift the downed men's revolvers from their gunbelts and to pick up Morris's rifle. He brought the weapons to Jessie and Thad.

“I thought he was going to wake the others,” Jessie said as she accepted the rifle. “We still have to be quiet.”

“Let's get the hell out of here,” suggested Thad.

“We've got to take Thomas with us,” Jessie said. “We can't leave without him.”

“The kid's nothing but trouble, Jessie.”

“I know that, Thad, but he's the reason we're here in the first place. We've got to get him to Provo.”

They spoke in hushed voices. There was little time to debate the issue. Mueller and his men could wake up at any moment.

Thad said, “Well, we might have to kill Fagan and McKittrick to get at him—to say nothing of Mueller himself. You want to risk that?”

Jessie was firm. “I'll risk it.”

Thad shrugged. “Ki, what do you think?” he asked.

“We should do as Jessie says. The boy is too dangerous to be left free. It is our responsibility to take him to the authorities, since we broke him out of jail. To do less is to do wrong.” He glanced over at the sleeping men near the dying embers of the campfire. “And we cannot allow Mueller to go free, either. He is a dangerous man also.”

As if answering to the call of his name, Mueller stirred, then sat up. He was fully awake. “Bailey!” he called. “Morris! Where are you?” He looked around.

Thad Hill advanced toward him, a revolver in his hand leveled at the Prussian's chest. He walked slowly, keeping the barrel lined on his target. “Keep quiet, Mueller,” he said evenly. “Wake the others and you're a dead man.”

“I—” Mueller was frozen in inaction. “You shoot me and you'll have them to contend with, Hill,” he said.

Jessie moved to cover the sleeping bounty hunters and the kid.

“Toss your gun over here,” Thad told Mueller. “Do it slow and easy and maybe I won't shoot you. I'm not worried about them right now.”

Ki too had stepped around the fire and now stood over Thomas Starbuck, the knife in his right hand, a revolver in his left.

Meanwhile, Mueller reached inside his coat and took a .38 pistol from his shoulder holster, throwing it at Thad's feet. “There it is. I'm warning you, you'll regret this.”

“I'll worry about that later,” said Thad.

“Thad!” It was Jessie. One of the bounty hunters, Fagan, finally awakened by the commotion, had tackled her. She crashed to the ground, wrestling with the drunken man. But she was no match for his superior weight and strength.

This aroused McKittrick and Thomas Starbuck, both men sitting up groggily in their bedrolls, reaching for their weapons. Seeing Mueller covered, Ki standing over them, and Jessie tussling with Fagan, they didn't know what the hell to do.

Ki, however, was distracted, and went to help Jessie. He pulled the bounty hunter off her, threatening him with the knife to his neck. Fagan rolled away and Jessie leaped to her feet. “Put it away,” she told McKittrick. He reluctantly holstered his revolver. She turned then to Thomas Starbuck.

The kid's unruly chestnut-colored hair fell over his eyes, and he wore a scowl. “What are you trying to prove?” he said, gripping a borrowed gun in his left hand. “You're not going to take me again—not without a fight.”

“Put that gun down, Thomas,” said Jessie.

“Do as she says,” Thad put in, keeping his own weapon aimed at Mueller, who sat immobile. The Prussian did not take his eyes off the gun barrel that was pointed directly at him. “Tell him, Mueller,” the angry bounty hunter added.

Heinrich Mueller gulped hard. He was not used to being humiliated; usually it was the other way around. But now... “Put your gun down, Starbuck,” he said. “Do what they want.”

“Shut up, you bastard,” the kid shot back. “I don't have to do anything I don't want—not anymore. I'm not gonna let them take me again.”

“Don't be stupid, kid,” said Thad.

“You're the one who's stupid, mister—taking orders from a woman.” He looked at Jessie with contempt. “And you,” he said to her, “you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground. You believed everything I—”

“Quiet!” Mueller barked. “Say no more.”

“I'll say what I want. I don't belong to you, either. You're as bad as the rest of them. I'm my own man now.”

Starbuck got to his feet, waving the revolver wildly. “You can all go to hell. I'm getting out of here, and nobody's gonna stop me!” His mad gaze swept over them all. They were poised for anything. Jessie had recovered her weapon and held it on Fagan. Thad and Ki still covered Mueller and McKittrick.

It looked like a standoff, which the kid could use to his advantage. He moved backwards, grinning at this turn of events, watching them all. They knew he would not hesitate to fire, to kill them all if he could.

“Thomas—” Jessie began.

An explosion shattered the dark stillness. McKittrick stood now with a smoking gun. “Goddamm it, I'm not taking any more of this bullshit. The kid's mine, and to hell with the rest of you!” he yelled as he opened fire. “Dead or alive! It's every man for himself now!”