Neal Barrett Jr. (33 page)

“We’re going,” Howie said.

The boy glared at Howie. “She won’t go with you.

She doesn’t know anyone but me. I take care of her. I’ve been with her all along.”

Howie let out a breath. He looked at Carolee, saw her clinging desperately to Tommy’s arm. He knew the boy was right.

“All right. Then you’re going too,” Howie said.

For the first time, the boy showed fear. “I—can’t do that. I wouldn’t know what to do out there. Any more than her. They treat us all right in here. It’s not real bad. You got to see that. We—”

Howie heard the shots then, three sharp cracks of a rifle. Someone answered with a pistol, two shots and then nothing after that. Howie wondered who the hell was fighting who. There wasn’t anyone on his side except Chan, and he had Chan’s only gun.

CHAPTER THIRTY

H
owie moved quickly past Carolee and the boy, opened the door a crack, and looked out at the compound. Churchers were running aimlessly about, shouting at one another, apparently wondering what to do next. Howie heard another burst of gunfire. The sound came from the gate. He turned to the boy.

“Stay right here, Take care of her.” He poked his ringer in Tommy’s chest. “Don’t think about bein’ nowhere else when I come back.”

Tommy nodded. Every muscle in his face was taut with fear. “What—what are you going to do? Where are you going?”

Howie didn’t answer. Taking the guard’s rifle from his shoulder, he raced toward the gate. A heavyset Brother ran toward him, shaking his fist. Howie hit him with the butt of his weapon and kept going. The gate was half open; Chan lay prone behind it, squeezing off shots at the clearing. A bullet splintered wood, and Howie dropped quickly to the ground.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asked Chan. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“I forgive your insulting remark,” Chan said. “You are clearly under great stress.” Chan fired again; the stock of the rifle slammed hard against his cheek. “You left your rear unguarded, Howie Ryder. Very poor strategy. Fortunately, you left one of the guard’s rifles as well.”

“How many out there, can you tell?”

“Not many. But be assured more will come.”

“Come on. We ain’t staying here.” Howie grabbed Chan’s shoulders and lifted him to his feet. Chan protested as Howie pushed him toward the safety of the fence. Setting his rifle aside, Howie pushed the gate shut, then shoved a heavy timber through the wooden lock.

“Ah, now we are safely inside,” Chan said.

Howie shot him a look. “Just follow real close and don’t talk.” He ran toward the building, Chan at his heels. A Churcher appeared at the door of the smaller building, waving a pistol in his hand. Howie fired twice, and the Churcher sprawled on the ground.

“Wait here,” Howie said, “Keep those bastards off my back.”

Chan went to his knees, sweeping his weapon across the open compound.

Howie found Tommy and Carolee crouched in one corner of the room. Carolee was crying. She still held the baby in her arms. Howie knew better than to waste time asking. He went straight to his sister, took the child from her, and lay it in one of the small beds. The child squalled and kicked its tiny legs. Carolee made a terrible sound in her throat and rushed past Howie for the child. Howie bent low, grabbed her waist, and lifted her easily to his shoulder. Carolee kicked and screamed.

Tommy stepped boldly in Howie’s path. “Don’t—don’t do this. Please. Just leave us alone. I can take care of her here. I know how to do that.”

Howie thrust his rifle at the boy. “You want to take care of her, do it with this.”

Tommy stared at the weapon. “I never ever touched one of these things before!”

“Point it. Pull the trigger. That’s all you got to do.” Howie opened the door and stepped out. Chan blinked in surprise. Howie waved his questions aside and looked at Tommy.

“You said the Churchers have horses.”

“I
think
they do,” Tommy said. “I don’t know. Out back. There’s another gate past the pens.”

“
Howie
!” Chan turned and fired. Howie saw a Churcher scramble quickly off the top of the fence.

“That ain’t going to keep ’em out long,” Howie said.

“A keen observation.” Chan kept his eyes on the wall. No one else appeared. All the robed figures who worked in the compound had vanished. The place looked suddenly empty.

Howie spotted the rear gate, just behind the stock shed. He tried not to look at the naked figures crowded inside, the slack expressions and empty eyes. They were all young, none of them more than twelve or fourteen, the right age for breeding.

“Let ’em loose,” Howie told Chan. “That’ll give the Churchers something to do.”

Chan nodded, walked to the shed, and unhooked the wooden gate. He waved his arms and yelled; the stock began to wander aimlessly into the compound.

Tommy had gone ahead to open the timbered door at the rear of the compound. Howie passed him quickly, and breathed a sigh of relief. A small corral stood ten yards past the fence. There were seven horses and a covered feed shed. Howie found saddles and harnesses inside. He turned Carolee over to Tommy and stepped over the fence. The mounts shied away, and he talked to them gently and calmed them down. There was no time for saddles. The Churchers could send a party around the fence at any moment. He rigged three of the best horses with bits and reins, opened the gate, and shouted the other mounts out.

“You and me’ll ride single,” he told Chan. “That keeps us free to shoot. Tommy, you take care of Carolee.”

The boy stared at the horses and shook his head. “No, sir. I’m not, getting on one of those. I won’t do it.”

Howie looked at the boy, and knew at once Tommy had never even been close to a horse before. Hell, he hadn’t thought of that.

Howie handed his reins to Chan, walked over to Tommy, picked him up bodily, and lifted him to the back of the mount. The boy sat frozen in fear. Howie thrust the reins in his hand.

“Listen to me,” Howie said. “You kick it when you want to go. Not hard, real easy. Pull them things when you want it to stop. You learn how to do that
fast
or one of them fine Brothers will put a bullet in your back. You got that?”

The boy didn’t answer. He closed his eyes tight and gripped the reins. Howie mounted up, and Chan lifted Carolee up behind him. Carolee whimpered at his back and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, more frightened of the horse than she was of Howie.

“Which way?” Chan said.

“North. I figure that’s the quickest way out of California. Canada’s up that away a piece.”

Chan gave Howie a sober look. “I would say four hundred miles. That is indeed a piece.”

“Hell, you got any better ideas?”

“I do,” Chan said. “And if we are alive at this time tomorrow, I will discuss them with you further.”

H
owie lay flat on the stone outcropping and studied the darkening valley. The sun had just dropped behind the hills to the west, and the rock was still warm. A river ran through the valley, some three hundred feet below. Trees lined the river on either side; past the trees, grassy plains swept steeply up the sides of the surrounding hills. Howie could see the whole valley clearly for miles to the south and east. If pursuers were there, they were keeping to the trees and not building any fires. And they were there, all right, he knew that. They’d keep on coming.

They wouldn’t give up. Ritcher Jones wouldn’t let them do that.

Howie knew they wouldn’t have made it four days without a little good luck at the start. Chan figured the Churchers had stumbled on them at the compound—four or five men, maybe bringing something to the facility. Or maybe they’d left the place earlier and were simply corning back. They didn’t have horses, and that gave Howie’s party a chance. A good hour’s start, maybe more than that, before the Brothers could get back and start riders from High Sequoia on the move.

Howie and Chan spotted their pursuers at the end of the first day. A dozen or so Churchers, maybe seven or eight Loyalist troopers, making their way through the woods. Howie had taken his mounts up high as soon as he could, getting out of the forest where horses left a trail, finding hard and rocky ground. It made for rough riding, especially for Carolee and the boy. Still, once Tommy had gotten a good look at their pursuers, he started learning horsemanship fast.

The troopers worried Howie a lot. They knew what they were doing, and every time he threw them off, they backtracked and found the trail again. They had food and plenty of arms, and the army always took remounts along. That put them way ahead of their quarry. Howie knew if he couldn’t shake them off real soon, the army and the Churchers had to win. The odds were simply stacked too high. He didn’t have to tell Chan and the boy. It was clear they already knew.

C
han had a small fire going under a rock overhang. The horses were close by in a shaded hollow, and the camp was high enough to be relatively secure.

Chan looked up sharply as Howie came through the trees, then relaxed. “You see anyone?”

Howie shook his head. “Didn’t figure I would. They’re out there, though.”

Chan had caught a few small fish and managed to snare a large bird. The bird tasted awful, but Howie ate it anyway. Chan said it was an owl.

“I never ate an owl,” Howie said. “I reckon I know why.”

“I would not complain if I were you,” Chan said. “I may not find an owl tomorrow.”

“The kids already eat?”

“I gave them most of the fish. The boy was hungry. Your sister eats very little.”

Howie looked past the fire at Carolee. She sat hunched in the shadows of the rock. He could hear her singing softly to herself. Tommy had made her a doll out of part of his shirt, and stuffed it with dry grass. Carolee hugged it close, and it seemed to keep her happy and quiet.

Tommy sat close’ by Carolee, holding the rifle in his lap. Howie had shown him how to lever fresh shells into the chamber and pull the trigger. At first the boy had refused to have anything to do with the weapon. Then Howie explained that if he didn’t want to learn how to shoot, he didn’t really give a damn about watching out for Carolee. That did the trick. Tommy practiced his dry- fire routine every night, and wouldn’t quit until Howie made him stop.

“He is very good with Carolee,” Chan said, guessing Howie’s thoughts. “I do not think she would have survived in that place without him.”

“I reckon he’s all right,” Howie said. He poked a stick at the fire and began taking his rifle and Chan’s pistol apart. “They’re going to know when we stop goin’ north and turn west,” he told Chan. “They’ll figure that one out real quick, and guess we’re making for the sea.”

“It is the only thing to do,” Chan said. “There are many Chinese in the northern ports of California. We will get a ship.” He showed Howie a weary grin. “I promise you that. Get us to the coast, and I will get us a ship.”

Howie didn’t look up. “Soon as they track us headin’ west they’re going to know. That’s when they’ll split up their forces. Keep one bunch on our tail and send the others off fast to cut us off.” He made marks on the ground with a stick. “They take us, and I ain’t able to do it, you got to promise me they won’t take Carolee. Tell me you’ll do that.”

“We will make it. It will not come to that.”

“Dammit, you don’t know that at all,” Howie said harshly.

Chan stood. “I know that I intend to get some sleep. I suggest you try to do the same.

Howie sat by the fire and finished cleaning his weapons. Once he looked up and saw Tommy watching him from the shelter of the overhang, and wondered if the boy had heard him talking with Chan. Carolee was still singing to her doll, and Howie knew Tommy would stay awake until she slept.

The sharp blast of sound brought him straight up out of sleep. For an instant, he was certain the troopers had found them and were firing into the camp. Then a bright fork of lightning lit the sky and the sound struck again, shaking the high ground.

Howie was up before the first heavy drops of rain splattered the dry earth, yelling for Chan as he ran through the brush for the mounts. The sky opened up and he was drenched before he made a dozen yards. He laughed and turned his face up to the rain, raised his hands, and shouted at the sky.

Chan caught up with him at the makeshift corral. The mounts were spooked by the lightning and the sound. Howie calmed them as he led them out of the hollow.

“Get Carolee and the boy,” he shouted over the rain. He laughed again and clapped Chan soundly on the back. Chan looked startled, and Howie leaned in close to his face.

“Hell, man, don’t you see it? The
rain
. That’s the break we need. We’re turning west right now, out of these hills and down to flat ground. Ain’t anyone alive can tell where we’re heading after this!”

Chan looked appalled. “We will surely fall into holes in the dark. Very deep holes, perhaps.”

Howie grinned like a fool and pushed Chan ahead down the path. By the time they reached Carolee and Tommy, everyone was thoroughly drenched. The boy was used to riding, and Howie had been leaving Carolee in his charge.

This time, though, he took his sister on behind him. He didn’t want anything to happen to the boy, but if it did, it wouldn’t happen to Carolee as well.

A hundred small rivers rushed down the hill, turning the earth to mud. Once Chan’s horse lost its footing and panicked, and Chan had to fight to keep the frightened mount from bolting. Howie blessed the ragged lightning and prayed for more. Without it, he knew they’d never reach the flats in one piece. He kept everyone together, testing the treacherous ground first, shouting back orders if the way looked too dangerous ahead. The rain pounded Howie’s skin like tiny stones, and lashed out at his good eye. He heard Chan shout above the storm, turned and saw his friend’s mount tumble down the slope and disappear. Howie started back, fearful of what he’d find. Another flash of lightning turned the darkness into day, and he saw Chan pick himself up from the mud and climb up behind the boy.