Skinwalkers (7 page)

“Not now, Pablo,“ Doc said.

Pablo wouldn’t take no for an answer. He continued pawing at the bag as they reached the saloon and walked past the sleeping dog
, entering through the bat-wing doors
. It was then Pablo heard the wounded soldier screaming. Pablo clamped his hands over his ears and grimaced as if in pain. He stepped around the soldier standing guard at the saloon entrance and shrank down into the corner made
where
wall
met bar
. Pablo’s eyes turned up in his sockets and he began to rock back and forth where he crouched.

“J
esus Christ.“ The doc sat his bag in a chair beside the table and began rummaging through it. “What the hell happened to this poor bastard?“

The wounded soldier began to buck and writhe atop the table, slinging blood and bile over the two soldiers struggling to hold him down.

“Lay still, Sanchez,“ one of the soldiers, a corporal, said.

Sanchez vomited blood on the corporal for his trouble.

“We need some help over here!“ the corporal said. “Johnson! Mendez!“

Two more soldiers left their post at the saloon’s windows to help hold the wounded private.

The doc produced a large syringe from his bag and thumped it with the tip of his fingers. He inserted it directly into the private’s carotid artery and injected its contents. Sanchez went limp.

The doc took in the red entrails spilling from the boy’s stomach. “For fuck’s sake. What a mess. Joe, bring over some alcohol. Pure grain if you got it. I’ll need some towels, too.“

“Lacey,“ Garrett commanded. “My office.“

Lacey obediently scurried up the staircase.

“He going to make it, Doc?“ the corporal asked.

The doc continued to stare at the boy’s guts. He thought he saw movement among them—thought he heard the slightest whimper—
a baby’s whimper
.

“Doc?“

The doc shook himself. “What’s your name, Corporal?“

“Martinez, sir. Julio.“

“Martinez,“ the doc said. “I’ll be honest with you, son. It might be better if he don’t.“

From the translated letters of Corporal Julio Martinez, Co. A, 1
^st
NMVC…

Keystone, New Mexico

March the 8
^th
, 1864

To Miss Maria Sophia

Dear Miss Sophia,

I will inform you with pleasure that I am well at the present time and I hope that when this reaches you that it may find you well also. The boys are generally well at the present and in very good spirits, and our mounts are in good health. I was glad to hear of that the birth of Jose and Petra’s child. You know I make no secret that I wish for us to one day wed and have children of our own in good time. And in that regard, I fear I have news that you will not find favorable. I know that in my last letter I said I would be coming home soon. However, I regret to inform you my company’s captain has accepted a special assignment and made a liar of me in doing so.

I suppose from my past letters and other sources you have heard that my regiment has made quick work of the Navajo since
Manuelito
fell at Canyon de
Chelly
, and that we are now gathering the Indians for a move to Fort Sumner. While this is true in greatest part, word has reached Colonel Carson of one or two villages still in existence in the country neighboring San Ramirez. Captain Arrington has volunteered our company to route these remaining stranglers and to bring total success to our mission.

It would be untruthful of me to say I have complete confidence in our captain. You know of the queerness of which I have spoken in regard to his behavior in previous letters and I admittedly wonder how the captain will perform when no longer under the direct supervision of superior officers. But do not let my words upset you. I’m sure I’m overreacting where the captain is concerned. The scourge of the Navajo has been a long embarking that has taken its toll on us everyone. Despite what the officers would have us believe, Captain Arrington is only a man himself and so equally vulnerable to weariness of heart and head; more so due to his station, I’m sure.

As you know, the resistance we have encountered in the past from the Navajo has been little to none. There is no reason to for us to expect to receive anything different from these outliers that would force Captain Arrington to lead us into real battle. Regardless, I am but a lowly corporal, easily able to escape notice should the captain take to one of his more foul moods.

Please write soon, my dear one. Each new installment of your letters lifts my spirits. I cannot wait until I am once more home with you so that we may wed and make a life of our own. I have written to Padre Lopez and he has agreed to perform the ceremony upon my return. Do not worry about your father’s ill regard of me. When he sees the love I hold for you within my heart, and more importantly, the bounty I shall possess upon my return, he will have no choice but to give his approval of our marriage.

Give my love and respects to all our friends while keeping the most bountiful portion for yourself. Remember to write soon, to myself, Hector, and all the other boys for it gives them great pleasure to hear from home. I am counting the days until next I look upon your face.

In Friendship, Love, and truth,

I am yours truly,

Corporal Julio Martinez

Of Co. A 1
^st
New Mexico Volunteer Calvary

THE ATTACK

F
arnsworth lay on his belly, his body extended its full length, his hands free but still inches from the knife he’d managed to knock off Garrett’s desk. Not the length of a pencil separated J.T. from his prize, but he might as well have been a hundred miles away. No matter how far he stretched, the knife remained on the other side of the desk and hopelessly out of reach.

“Damnation!“ Farnsworth pounded the floor with his fists. He rose to a sitting position beside his jailer, the stove he was shackled to. Its glowing embers provided the majority of the room’s illumination now that the sun had vanished behind the mountains. Farnsworth eyed the safe sitting across the room with disgust.

“How am I supposed to get at you,“ he asked the safe in desperation, “if I can’t get to the knife to pick my leg irons?“

The safe gave no answer. Farnsworth exhaled a large sigh.

He heard the door knob rattle and jumped to his feet.

The blonde whore appeared in the doorway. “Oh, I forgot you were up here.“

Farnsworth relaxed. A grin spread across his face.

“
Will you walk into my parlor?
“
said the Spider to the Fly.

He rose to his feet and bowed gracefully. “Be still my beating heart! Never hath a lovelier vision crossed mine eyes. Are you an angel come to take me away from this wearisome world?“

Farnsworth batted his eyelashes, making sure to peer up at Lacey from between the abundant curls draping across his handsome face.

The girl giggled and Farnsworth knew she was his.

“I
ain’t
no angel.“ She adjusted her clothes, suddenly self-conscious and unable to look Farnsworth in the eye. “Just one of Garrett’s whores.“

“One so gorgeous as you could never be a whore, Madame,“ Farnsworth confided, “no matter how many men may have had the honor of knowing your embrace.“

Lacey stepped into Garrett’s office. “You sure talk funny, Mister.“

“If my linguistic acrobatics confuse you, my dear, it is because I myself am confused—confused by your beauty and the undeniable feelings it produces within me! But alas, I do not even know the name by which heart’s desire is called—?“

“Uh, Lacey.“ It was all Farnsworth could do to not to explode with laughter when she actually performed a clumsy, half-assed curtsey.

“Ah,“ Farnsworth said. “Lacey. The name of a true goddess divine!

“I am Jonathan Tiberius Farnsworth the Third.“

Farnsworth’s chain rattled as he approached her and took her hand.

“That’s a big name, Mister—“

“Please, call me Jonathan
.
“

“A big name, Jonathan.“

“Unlike heavenly creatures such as you,
Lacey
, mere mortals such as I need large names to give us weight and consequence.“

“You’re teasing me.“

“I say thee nay, dear Lacey. I would not tease the person with whom I intend to spend the remainder of my days.“

Lacey’s eyes widened. “You saying you mean to marry me? We just met, here, now.“

“But the heart knows, sweet Lacey. And it is ancient in its knowledge! I have no doubt our essences danced together in the stardust eons before this wondrous night.“

“But how would we live?“ Lacey asked.

“My dear, surely you have heard of J.T. Farnsworth, world-famous scribe?“

Lacey stared at him, a blank expression on her face.

I am a wordsmith, my dear. A spinner of yarns! A weaver of tales! A
pugiling
pontificator!“

Lacey yielded no reaction.

“A writer,“ Farnsworth grumbled.

“—A writer?“ Lacey asked, scratching her head. “Of letters and such? I just don’t think—“

“My father is
filthy rich
, Lacey. Help me get out of here, and his gratitude would be without end.“

The light of greed filled Lacey’s eyes.

“Lacey!“ Garrett’s voice shouted from downstairs. “What the hell’s taking you so long, woman?“

Farnsworth’s eyebrows pyramided in expectation. “Yes, then—?“

Lacey looked Farnsworth up and down.

“You swear on the name of the baby Jesus your daddy is rich?“

“My dear, I don’t see what such frivolities—“

“Do you fucking swear it or not?“

Farnsworth sighed.

“Very well, then.
I swear it on the name of the baby Jesus
.“

“Swear what?“

“That my fucking daddy,
as you say,
is rich. Do we have a deal, then?“

“You bet your cute, rich ass we have a deal, Mister, uh, oh,
Jonathan
.“

“Excellent.“ Farnsworth held Lacey at arm’s length. “Here is the plan: you must lift the key from that jackanapes of a bounty hunter. When he and everyone else are asleep, secret your way back in here and then we shall abscond for my home. Agreed?“

Lacey nodded, but she would never have a chance to fulfill the bargain.

Neither of them would.

Farnsworth brought Lacey in close and kissed her full on the mouth. Whether by choice or habit, she accommodated him.

“Lacey!“ Garrett called. “Get your ass down here! Now!“

“I got to go.“ Lacey pulled away from Farnsworth and grabbed some towels from a cabinet across the room.

“Until tonight!“

Farnsworth blew Lacey a kiss as she exited. When the door was shut, he danced a jig, the shackle at his ankle rattling with the effort. Then J.T. spotted the knife still lying out of reach on the floor and cursed.

“A
mazing—“ Corporal Martinez said. He held a candle in his hand so that he could examine the doc’s patient more closely. Night had fallen, and though no one in the saloon knew it yet, death followed close behind.