The Spirit of Iron Eyes (10 page)

‘
Huh?’
Wall was confused. ‘What ya trying to say?’

‘
For
some reason, the marshal arrived here trailing Diamond Back Jones
and the bounty hunter them folks back at Dry Gulch told us about. I
figure that Jones met up with his Apache kin and they gave chase to
the bounty hunter. Marshal Quaid decided to keep trailing them
because Diamond Back is out there someplace.’

‘
How
come they would chase the bounty hunter?’ Wall asked.

‘
Iron
Eyes is a strange dude. Outlaws hate his guts and so do the
Apache.’ Matty Hume sighed. ‘For some reason they reckon that he’s
a living ghost or somethin’. He’s killed his share of their tribe
over the years and they might have thought about getting their own
back.’

Gibson picked up the bag once again and
brought it to the two men. He spoke reluctantly.

‘
Shall
I fix a fire, Cap?’

‘
Yep.
Use some empty flour-bags to make a fire, Tanny. There’s plenty of
dry brush around here to get a good blaze goin’. I want to drink me
a couple of cups of coffee and fill my guts with some salt pork
before we head on out again.’

Anxiously Col Wall bit his lip.

‘
So we
ain’t in no hurry then?’

Matty Hume looked at his
friend.
‘I
ain’t been in no hurry since I first set eyes on them tracks,
Col.’

Lightning was still exploding
in the skull of the emaciated figure as his feet somehow continued
to take him along the black cave passage. His innards felt as
though they were melting inside his lean frame and the sound of his
pounding heart continued to haunt him. More dead than alive, Iron
Eyes walked like a zombie in search of sanctuary, his long arms
stretched out before him. Every
fiber of his being screamed out for him to
rest but he knew there could be no rest whilst the deadly
snake-venom still surged through him.

Only instinct was driving the
bounty hunter on through the dark cave tunnel now. Iron Eyes had no
idea where he was or even if he were still somehow alive. There
were no rational thoughts in the bounty hunter
’s fevered brain. Only
agonizing pain. Step after step, he continued heading into the
gentle breeze that drifted through the otherwise stale
air.

He had determined to remain
upright and keep
walking until he eventually died or recovered his wits long
enough to reclaim his mind again. The pain was worse than anything
he had ever experienced before.

How many times had he been
stabbed, shot by guns and bows in the past? So many times that only
the scars that covered his body kept accurate records. But nothing
had been as bad as the pain which had ensued after the
sidewinder
’s
fangs had sunk into his flesh.

The venom from the
rattler
’s
vicious bite still coursed through his frail body like acid burning
through gun metal. He felt icy cold and yet sweat had drenched his
long, heavy trail-coat and his trousers until he looked like
someone who had been caught in a cloudburst.

Fever confused the tall
man
’s
usually calculating mind until he no longer had any faith in
anything except the cool draught on his face.

Was any of this real? he asked himself.

Iron Eyes continued to lurch forward,
wondering if he might be caught in the middle of some horrific
nightmare. One caused by drinking bad liquor or tainted water.

Could he trust any of this?

Every step that he took allowed pain to race
through him unchecked. The entire cave was still in total darkness
and yet his mind was filled with blinding lights that tortured his
every movement.

Surely no nightmare could be this torturous,
he thought.

Iron Eyes staggered from one side of the
cave tunnel to the next as blood poured from the countless wounds
which covered his thin body.

Yet he did not notice them.

There was nothing apart from confusion in
his mind. Delirium fogged every thought a split second after the
tall bounty hunter became aware of it.

With every beat of his racing heart, it got
worse.

Iron Eyes felt the ground beneath his boots
fall away sharply. Somehow he stopped himself from falling, his
hands managed to reach to either side of the cave walls as he
stumbled.

But there was no strength left in his
arms.

He felt himself falling face first but could
not work out how to move his arms in front of him to try and break
the fall. The bounty hunter fell straight down into a black
pit.

To his fevered brain this was just another
nightmare.

Then his face hit the sand, hard.

His entire body shook as it crashed on to
the floor of the cave tunnel. He just lay there, winded, unable to
move any part of his spread-eagled body.

He was drowning in just two inches of soft
sand.

Iron Eyes tried to breathe but could not
find any air. Only granules of fine sand filled his nostrils. He
tried to force himself up but there was no power left in the long
weak arms which lay at his sides.

Then a strange screaming seemed
to reach his
ears. Iron Eyes tried to open his eyes but the sand made it
impossible. He heard his name being called out over and over again,
then suddenly realized that the voice he heard so clearly was his
own. Somewhere in the depths of his subconscious mind, he was
screaming out at himself with a fury only he could
muster.

Iron Eyes moved his hands and dragged them
across the soft sand until they touched the sides of his head. His
fingertips clawed at the sand to either side of his face until they
touched his bruised and bleeding skin. He forced the fine sand away
from his mouth and managed to tilt his head over on to its
side.

At last his open mouth managed to find fresh
air. He filled his lungs.

It tasted good.

Iron Eyes knew that he was still alive.
Bruised and battered, but still somehow alive. He had to be. Only
being alive could hurt this much, he thought. He turned the palms
of his hands until they were facing down and then pushed at the
sand with all his might.

Somehow he managed to force his lean frame
off the sand and roll over on to his side. The cool air was much
stronger now and made him recall why he was here at all. He shook
his head and felt his mind clear slightly.

His bony fingers scraped the
sand from his eyes and rugged features but he could still not
glimpse any light. He spat at the darkness angrily. Then his
left hand found the
Apache water bag at his side. It was leaking.

He scooped the bag up.

The crude stopper was gone. Iron Eyes groped
around him but the blackness hid the small stopper well. He lifted
the neck of the water bag to his lips, swilled the sand from his
mouth and then spat again.

He drank until he could no longer drink
another drop.

Then he filled the palm of one hand with the
cool liquid and washed the fine granules off his face. As the water
trickled down his battered features he felt the cool breeze on his
skin far more strongly than before.

I must be close to finding the way out of
here, he told himself.

Iron Eyes ignored the burning pain inside
his guts, staggered back to his feet and inhaled deeply on the
fresh air which was drying the water droplets on his face. Suddenly
he buckled and felt the water being rejected by his stomach. It
gushed from his mouth like a fountain. The bounty hunter felt a
little better.

He wondered if he had washed some of the
poison from his system. Iron Eyes straightened up, raised the bag
to his mouth and finished its contents before tossing it away. He
no longer felt sick but the agonizing pain continued to tear
through him as he groped his way along the narrow passageway of
stone.

Iron Eyes could feel his head
starting to throb again as the snake
’s poison attacked his senses once
more.

With his long arms outstretched to protect
him from the uneven cave walls, he continued to ignore his pain and
headed toward the cool breeze.

For what seemed an eternity,
the tall lean figure moved slowly along the tunnel that had been
carved by nature itself
eons ago.

The only thing which kept him moving was the
feeling of air on his face and exposed torso as his long coat-tails
flapped at his sides.

His mind drifted in and out of consciousness
but his feet continued to take one step after another as though
driven by a more basic instinct.

The instinct of survival.

The bounty hunter knew that he had been
moving ever downward since he had started out on his quest to
locate the source of the gentle draught.

But even he had no idea of exactly how far
down the inside of the sand-rock ridge he had come. The natural
passageway had twisted and turned several times as the fevered man
had descended deeper and deeper into it.

As Iron Eyes groped his way
around a narrow corner, his tired burning eyes saw a shaft of
moonlight ahead of him. It seemed to be coming up from the floor of
the cave nearly twenty feet away from him and danced hypnotically
over the rocky
walls all around him.

At last! Iron Eyes sighed.

He stopped and leaned against
the cool rock surface and tried to collect his thoughts. The
snake
’s
venom had made him see many things since the fangs had sunk into
his flesh and he still doubted his sanity.

Was this real?

Had he finally reached his goal?

The sweat-soaked Iron Eyes closed his eyes
and counted for a few seconds. He then slowly opened them again and
stared at the strange eerie light ahead of him.

That
’s real! he thought
defiantly.

He forced his bedraggled body away from the
cave wall and staggered towards the beckoning light. Iron Eyes was
like a moth being drawn to a flame. He could not resist it after
spending so many hours in total darkness.

At last! I
’ve reached it at last! He
sighed dragging his feet across the uneven surface of the cave
floor. His battered body seemed to be moving faster than it had
since he had first felt the jaws of the viper squeeze around his
boot.

Panting with exhaustion Iron Eyes staggered
toward the luring shaft of moonlight. Then, as he almost reached
it, he stumbled and swayed from one leg to the other. There was a
reason why the light seemed to be coming from the cave floor ahead
of him.

The reason being that it
actually was coming up
from below the floor of the cave.

His eyes widened and gazed down
into another massive hole filled with water as he felt himself
losing his balance. He could see the mouth of the cave he had been
searching for so desperately, far below him. Blue moonlight spilled
into the cave, reflected off the water
’s surface and danced across the
roof.

Iron Eyes felt himself falling through the
air, falling into the light. He watched as the water below him came
up to greet his body.

He closed his eyes and landed in the deep
water. A million droplets of water raced into the haunting light
above him as his body submerged into the ice-cold liquid. He
frantically clawed at the water until he managed to find the
surface again.

The pool of fresh water rippled against the
back wall of rocks, then washed his lean body over the lip of the
cave mouth. He felt himself roll over several times until a boulder
and some dry brush stopped him.

Iron Eyes lay like a soaked rag-doll on his
back, trying to inhale as much air as his lungs could take. The
water had been a shock to him but it made him more alert. He
blinked hard and then raised his left hand and pushed the long wet
strands of hair off his face.

It took several seconds before he was able
to see clearly again. The sight of the large bright moon high above
him greeted him. He was about to move when something to his right
caught his attention.

Iron Eyes moved his head slightly and stared
through the brush at the Apache warriors who were arguing less than
a hundred yards from where he was lying.

It suddenly dawned on the
bounty hunter that he was not on the other side of the ridge as he
had first thought. He was at the foot of the
sand-
colored
rock face almost directly below the cave mouth from where he had
started,

Iron Eyes sighed heavily.

Damn!

The chief stared hard into the emotionless
face of his brother and eventually lowered his hooded eyes to the
ground. The ruthless Apache known to the outside world as Diamond
Back Jones had won their battle of wills. Conchowata raised his
hands to the rest of the warriors who surrounded them and muttered
to them reluctantly under his breath.

‘
My
brother has seen the ways of our bitter enemies and he fears none
of our gods. If he has the courage to climb up to the cave and do
battle with Iron Eyes or the demons that might have already
destroyed him, let it be!’

Geroma stepped forward.

‘
But
if our gods are upset, it shall be we who pay, my
father!’

Conchowata nodded.

‘
I
have
spoken.’