Brimstone - Паркер Роберт Б. (читать книги бесплатно полные версии TXT) 📗

She put her arm around Laurel and they went out of the office.

I looked at Virgil. He shrugged slightly. I didn’t ask him what she’d said. I knew he wouldn’t tell me.

44

TWO SADDLE HORSES plodded up Arrow Street, each dragging something. Sitting on the front porch, Virgil and I watched them come. As they got closer we could see that what they were dragging were the bodies of two men.

I stood.

Virgil said, “Let’s see where they’re going.”

We went out to the street as the horses passed and followed them up Arrow Street. The dead men were covered with dirt, and their heads were black with dried blood.

“Scalped,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“You recognize them?” I said.

“Kinda hard, them being such a mess,” Virgil said.

“Want to guess?” I said.

“J.D. and Kirby,” Virgil said.

“What I’m guessing,” I said.

At Fifth Street, the horses stopped in front of Pike’s Palace and stood at the hitching rail, and drank from the trough. Virgil went and looked at one of the dead men.

“J.D.,” he said.

He looked at the second man.

“Kirby,” he said.

“They were good,” I said.

“Not as good as the Indian,” Virgil said.

“Guess the Indian’s got their power,” I said.

“Guess,” Virgil said.

“No arrow,” I said. “Probably figured it would fall out while they were dragging into town.”

“Scalping sends the same message,” Virgil said.

“Don’t look like they been dragged far,” I said.

“I’d guess edge of town,” Virgil said.

“So he kills them,” I said, “brings them to the edge of town, hitches them up, and lets the horses drag ’em in.”

“Knows they’ll head for home.”

“Which they did,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“So Pike’d see them,” Virgil said.

“And we would, too,” I said.

Virgil nodded again, looking at the dead men.

“They’re too dirty to make out how he killed them,” I said.

Virgil continued to nod.

“Guess we got to go get him,” Virgil said.

“Yep.”

“Got stuff to do in town,” Virgil said.

“I know.”

Virgil stared at the dead men.

“Got to go get him,” he said again.

Pike came out of the front door of the Palace and looked down at the dead men. Pony came out behind him.

“That fucking Indian,” he said.

“Which one?” Virgil said.

“Buffalo Calf,” Pike said.

“You know it’s him?” Virgil said.

“I know it’s him,” Pike said. “It’s always him, the fuck.”

“Always?” Virgil said.

“I know it’s him,” Pike said. “And I’m through with it. I’m going after him.”

“We’ll do that,” Virgil said.

“The hell you will,” Pike said. “The fucker didn’t kill two of your people.”

“We’ll go after him,” Virgil said.

“You can go with me, you want to,” Pike said, “or not, but I’m riding out of here in an hour with twenty men. And we’re going to bring him back in pieces. Nobody does that to me.”

“Do what you gotta do,” Virgil said. “Me and Everett are gonna need Pony.”

“Pony goes with me,” Pike said.

Virgil looked at Pony.

“I go with Virgil and Everett,” Pony said.

“You work for me, you half-breed cocksucker,” Pike said.

“No more,” Pony said.

“Fuck you, then,” Pike said. “I’ll track him myself.”

He turned and walked back into the Palace.

“Pike ain’t his usual jolly self,” I said.

“Twenty men,” Pony said. “Stampede. Be lucky he don’t kill them all.”

Virgil nodded, looking at the empty doorway where Pike had gone.

“Be lucky,” Virgil said.

45

WE SAT OUR HORSES on the other side of the ford and looked at the muddle of hoofprints that Pike and his posse had left. The pack mule took the opportunity to graze.

“Don’t make tracking the Indian so easy,” Virgil said.

“I find him,” Pony said.

“Pike will assume he’s running,” I said.

“Not running,” Pony said.

“He’ll shadow Pike,” Virgil said.

“If we’re right about him,” I said.

“So, we shadow Pike, we might come across him.”

“Might shadow us,” Pony said.

“He and Pike got a history,” Virgil said. “I ain’t saying he got no interest in us. But they got something between them.”

“Maybe get everybody,” Pony said.

“Might be his plan,” I said.

Virgil was looking at the tracks of twenty horses.

“Pike much of an Indian fighter, when you was with him?”

“Very good soldier,” Pony said. “Kill everybody.”

“And if Buffalo Calf wants to be tracked, Pike won’t have much trouble.”

“No track like me,” Pony said. “But can track. I teach him.”

“When you was soldiering, Everett, what you do with a troop of soldiers like this?”

“They’d be in squads,” I said. “Non com for each. I’d have scouts ahead, maybe some outriders to each flank.”

“Let’s follow along, see if he does that.”

“Think you can track them, Pony?”

“Little girl we save?” Pony said. “She could track them.”

“If we’re right,” Virgil said, “the Indian’s trying to lead Pike into a trap. Be better if we didn’t ride right into it behind them.”

“They rode out at sunup,” I said.

Virgil glanced at the sun.

“Got ’bout two hours on us,” he said.

He looked at the horizon in all directions.

“Land’s flat for a ways,” he said. “Don’t see no place he could hide and watch.”

“So Buffalo Calf has got to trust Pike to follow him,” I said, “until they get into country where Buffalo Calf can spy.”

“You know this country, Pony?” Virgil said.

“Some,” Pony said. “Northwest, maybe two days’ ride, country get rougher.”

“That where you’d go,” Virgil said, “you was gonna ambush somebody?”

“Yes,” Pony said.

Virgil looked at the sun again.

“We’ll follow them,” he said. “See if they turn that way.”

“And if they do?” I said.

“Maybe strike out on our own,” Virgil said.

He clucked to his horse. The mule heard him and pricked his ears forward and stopped grazing. We rode out after Pike, and the mule trotted on behind us. We all had.45 Winchesters, in the saddle boot, and we all wore.45 Colts. Made carrying cartridges easier. I had the eight-gauge. We all rode together. The mule could have followed Pike’s trail.

About midday we came to the place where they’d stopped and reorganized. We sat our horses while Pony rode around the area, looking at tracks.

“Okay,” Pony said. “He send scouts.”

He pointed out the tracks of two individual horses.

He rode around the area some more.

“Outriders,” he said, pointing.

“Okay,” I said. “He’s getting organized.”

“Good soldier,” Pony said. “Know how to fight.”

“Probably got them broken into squads now,” I said.

“No way to tell,” Pony said. “Horses all walk over each other tracks in troop.”

“He actually got twenty men?” Virgil said.

“Cannot tell,” Pony said. “Too many.”

“Let’s assume twenty,” I said. “He sent two scouts out front, and two flankers. Leaves sixteen. So he breaks the rest of them into three squads of five. And he makes sixteen.”

“All he needs is a damned guidon,” Virgil said.

“It’s the way he’s learned to fight,” I said.

“There’s enough of them to be stupid,” Virgil said.

“They figure Buffalo Calf won’t turn and fight them?” I said.

“Yep.”

“So they could ride right on into an ambush,” I said.

“Could,” Virgil said

“Maybe Buffalo Calf has some friends,” I said.

“None before,” Pony said.

“Any Comanche villages around?” Virgil said.

Pony shook his head.

“Mostly reservation Indians now,” Pony said.

“Don’t mean they always stay on the reservation,” Virgil said.

“Nope,” Pony said.

“You think he knows we’re out here?” I said to Pony.

“Probably think we with Pike,” Pony said. “Even mission-school Indian don’t understand white people much.”