Slocum and the Thunderbird (12 page)

“John, please, Lo is having a hard time. She's so weak!”

“Ride!”

The bend in the canyon finally blocked the view of any tower guard. Only then did he slow and let the Watson girls catch up with him. Again he marveled at how much they looked alike. They might have been mistaken for twins at one time, but not now. Loretta was drawn, pale, and emaciated. Alicia still retained a vitality that pleased Slocum. Still, seeing them side by side made it obvious they were sisters.

“We have to go farther than I did before. I didn't want to leave you, John, but I wasn't going back to Wilson's Creek. I wanted to get the cavalry.”

“Mackenzie's gang caught you.”

Alicia nodded sadly. “They must patrol the entire area. There were four of them. They boxed me in, and I had no place to run.”

“I tried to find my friend but never did.”

“In Wilson's Creek? I saw several newcomers,” she said.

“Quiet!” Slocum cocked his head to one side and listened hard. “Riders, coming from town. Not fast but making good time.” He looked around. The only way to escape lay down the canyon, away from town.

“Up there, John. In the rocks!” Alicia had spotted a dark oval that hinted at a cave.

“If it's not deep enough to hide the horses, we're goners.” He saw that Loretta might not make it much farther. Even on horseback for such a short time, she wobbled and looked ready to keel over at any instant.

He silently led the way. They had to take the chance the cave would hold them and the horses so that Mackenzie's guards missed them.

Picking the way through a tumble of rocks took longer than he had hoped, but they still reached the cave. To his relief it had a tall, narrow opening with a larger room just past. He dismounted and led his horse in. When he was satisfied the horse wasn't going to get spooked, he helped Alicia with her sister and her horse. Alicia crowded in with her horse seconds later.

“Stay here,” Slocum said, going back to scout the outlaws after them.

The six men weren't hurrying but kept a steady pace. Slocum caught his breath as the gang passed where Slocum and the Watson girls had left the trail. No one even glanced down to see the trail leading to the cave. But two men falling back from the others irked Slocum. Strung out, they might be taking posts along the trail.

He eased back into the cave.

“They went by,” he told Alicia. He looked down and saw how Loretta had curled up in a tight ball and already slept heavily.

“She's exhausted. I've never seen her look so . . . so drained, physically or emotionally.”

“Let her sleep. We ought to also, since the guards are likely to be out there all day.”

“They never go out at night,” Alicia said.

“The thunderbird,” Slocum said. For once he appreciated how the superstition would help them. As soon as the guards returned to Wilson's Creek for the night, they could leave and put a considerable number of miles between them and Mackenzie.

“I hadn't realized it, but I am tired, too,” Alicia said. “You look worn out, as well.”

Slocum had been running on pure determination. He was hungry and tired. The sleep would do him good, but he shook his head.

“Somebody's got to stand watch.”

“Why? If they find us in here, they've got us trapped. The only way back to the canyon floor is that narrow trail. Sleep, John. Come on.” Alicia settled on the dirty floor and held out her arms.

He sank beside her and soon they lay together, arms wrapped around the other, sleeping heavily.

The next thing Slocum knew, he came awake with his six-gun in his grip when a hideous cry rang out. He sat up, saw Loretta was missing, then pushed to his feet. It was pitch black in the cave. He had slept away the day.

“Lo,” Alicia called. “Where are you?”

Slocum let Alicia hunt around inside the cave for her wayward sister. He went outside. It was dusk going into night, but he made out the body on the ground a few yards away.

Loretta Watson had been ripped to shreds.

“Lo! Loretta!”

Slocum grabbed Alicia before she could rush to her sister's body. She fought and then collapsed, sinking to her knees, sobbing. He made certain she wasn't going to leave the mouth of the cave before he edged forward, six-gun ready.

He didn't pay any attention to Loretta. She was obviously dead. Rather, Slocum kept a sharp eye above. The rocks over the cave didn't reveal any predators. Listening revealed small scraping sounds farther downhill, back in the direction of the canyon floor. Slocum stepped over the bloody corpse and jumped to the top of a rock to get a better view of the terrain.

Shadows moved about, but he had no target. The dusk hardened into night, denying him any chance of seeing what had clawed Loretta so brutally to death. He slid off the rock and holstered his pistol. The immediate danger was gone. But where had the predator come from to kill the woman? A quick examination of the rocky ground around the body showed nothing, but Slocum hadn't expected to find anything. There hadn't been any useful prints near Dupree either.

“The thunderbird,” sobbed Alicia. “It comes out at night and got Loretta. It took her. It
ate
her!”

He shook her so hard her head snapped back. She looked up at him but her eyes were focused a thousand yards away.

“There's no such thing. I don't know what's going on, but there's no Indian spirit killing people.”

“It comes out of storms, at night, when—”

“There's no such thing,” he repeated, shaking her even harder to make certain she got the point. “Mackenzie is responsible for this. He's playing with us. He's crazy and enjoys pretending there's a thunderbird.” Slocum was sure Mackenzie used fear and superstition to keep his gunmen in line and cow the slaves and paid visitors to Wilson's Creek. “We'll get out of these damned canyons.”

“My ma and pa. You've got to rescue them,” she said. “If Mackenzie is doing this—or commanding the thunderbird to do his killing—he knows I'm gone. He'll take revenge on my family.”

Slocum wanted to find Rawhide Rawlins but wasn't going to risk his life needlessly to rescue the man or get back the stolen money.

“You were right before,” Slocum said. “Get the cavalry and ferret out Mackenzie. That's what you need to do.”

“Now, John, you have to get my family out of there
now
.”

“We—”

“I know where Rawlins is. You'll never find him if I don't tell you.”

He looked at her. Tears stained her cheeks, but her mouth had become a razor's slash with determination, and the set of her chin showed she meant it.

“Too dangerous. He's probably paid for his own safety in the town.”

“He hasn't. I know where he is. Get Ma and Pa out and I'll tell you. I give you my word—on my sister's grave, I promise.”

If Rawlins hadn't paid his way into town, that meant he was working as a slave. Slocum had always liked Rawhide but knew the lure of money changed men mighty fast. Still, things had been confused when Lee Dupree had died, and Slocum had no real proof that Rawhide had gone willingly to Wilson's Creek. Mackenzie's roving patrol might have snared him, stolen the bank loot, then taken him to town to work until he died.

Or they might have killed him out of hand after stealing the money. Finding the man's body if they hid it along the trail into Wilson's Creek would be impossible.

But why should they hide the body? Slocum felt his head begin to hurt from too much thinking. It was time to act.

“You'd lie to get your family free,” he said, watching her reaction.

“Of course I would. But I'm not lying, and I'm not bargaining. Get them free and I'll tell you where your friend is.”

“You weren't in town long enough,” he said.

She got into a staring match with him that convinced him of what he had to do.

“The ground's too hard to bury your sister,” he said.

“We'll pile rocks. A cairn. It's not much but it'll have to be enough.”

Slocum hadn't expected her to help, but Alicia did. An hour later, her sister's body had been covered with a hundred pounds of rocks placed as carefully as possible to keep the animals from dining off the corpse. He finally stepped back and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“I'll say a few words,” Alicia said.

Slocum stepped back and let her pray. He looked into the night sky when he heard a soft whooshing sound. For a moment he thought he saw a bird gliding across the stars, blocking their bright, hard points, but the shadow vanished. By the time he relaxed, Alicia had finished.

“You go right on back while the guards are out of the towers. They fear the thunderbird and won't return until daybreak.”

“Where's Rawlins? I can get him when I get your parents.”

“He—no, John. You're an honorable man but temptation might get the better of you. You find your friend and where's the incentive to bother with my parents? There are a hundred excuses you could make for not rescuing them.”

He wouldn't do that, and she knew it. But Slocum had to face reality. Getting Alicia's ma and pa out of Wilson's Creek would be hard. With a third prisoner to save, getting away became even harder. What she asked of him was logical, but it put him in great danger. Mackenzie was on the lookout now after losing both Watson girls as prisoners. If the parents were successfully spirited away, Slocum had to return for Rawhide Rawlins. A third escape attempt took on impossibly high chances of failure.

The only good thing for Slocum and Rawhide lay in the fact that they could leave town and go wherever they wanted. Alicia and her family would be on the trail away from Wilson's Creek, riding to the cavalry post. By the time the soldiers came, if they ever did, Slocum and his partner would be long gone.

Or long dead.

“I'll meet you at the other cave. I can find it,” Alicia said. She took a deep breath, then said, “I'll wait a couple days, no longer.”

“Too dangerous,” he said. “Go back to the ghost town where—” He stopped speaking.

“Where the deputy tried to rape me.” Alicia nodded slowly, mulling this over. “Staying in these canyons is dangerous. I'll be safer there, and it's a spot we both know.” She took a deep breath. “That's where I'll be. But don't look for me at the hotel. Somewhere else. Anywhere else in the town.”

Then he saw her change her mind as surely as if he read a book.

“I'll wait here. I need to be with my family as soon as possible. I don't want to be left alone in that horrible town, worrying you'll never rescue them.” She crossed her arms and looked fierce. Alicia had made up her mind and brooked no argument.

Slocum had nothing more to say. He pushed past her into the cave and led his horse and the one Loretta had ridden out into the night.

“John, I'm sorry it has to be this way.”

He touched the brim of his hat without giving her any other indication he'd heard, then started down the hillside. He heard her crying openly behind him. Slocum felt cornered, and he didn't like it. As he rode, he turned over in his mind what to do if he found Rawhide before he rescued Alicia's parents. Even as he dismounted outside town and hurried toward the mine and mercury separation mill, he hadn't reached any conclusion.

Slocum veered toward the shed where Loretta had hidden when he saw a handful of Mackenzie's gang crowded around the door into the building where he had found Mrs. Watson before. He tried to figure out what caused the sudden interest.

Changing his plan, he left behind that building and went to the gold mine. Linc Watson could be the first one freed. The pair of them could deal better with the woman and her mercury-fogged brain. But as he stepped into the mouth of the mine and reached for a miner's candle, he froze.

From the depths of the mine came a loud argument. At least four men wrangled over their new assignment. Slocum pressed his back against the cold rock wall and sorted out what was being said. Not only had Mackenzie stationed more guards at the amalgam factory, but he had assigned a double shift in the mine.

Slocum edged out and looked around. In a way this made his next move easier. Find Rawhide Rawlins and get the hell away. Alicia had resorted to extortion to free her parents. He didn't blame her for trying, but he wasn't inclined to appreciate being placed in the position of risking his neck.

He walked toward town, keeping an eye out for roving guards. Slocum quickly realized that Mackenzie lacked the manpower for such blanket patrols. He had taken gunmen from the day shift and assigned them to watch over the miners in the night shift as well as those in the separation plant. Slocum had to make use of the doubling to find Rawlins in town.

Wilson's Creek might have been a ghost town for all the life he found. He realized then how fully Mackenzie kept them under his thumb with threats of the thunderbird. Slocum went to the back of the hotel again and found the window that had given him entry before. He wiggled through and opened the broom closet door to slip into the hotel's lower hallway.

A quick look around the lobby made him smile. Before men had slept willy-nilly on the furniture. Now the lobby was as quiet as a graveyard and as empty of life. He crossed to the stairs and went directly to the room where he had found the stacked books and odd gadgets. Rescuing the Watsons and Rawhide Rawlins seemed less important than finding out how Mackenzie had created the thunderbird. The answer had to be in this room.

He closed the door behind him and lighted a kerosene lamp. Slocum worked up and down the stacks, puzzling over the titles. He saw a book on the table and recognized it as the one Mackenzie had read to Alicia. From the sketches in it, Slocum guessed at Mackenzie's inspiration. An old Italian had designed wings that would fit over a man's arms. Slocum had never heard of such a thing as a bird-man, but Mackenzie was powerful enough to flap and use the makeshift wings to sail through the air.

Rummaging through the rods and pulleys on the table showed Slocum how the wings were built. Leather straps held them to Mackenzie's powerful arms. The bolts of cloth, once a few yards were shaped and stretched taut, made the actual wings. A bird had feathers; Mackenzie used cloth to catch the air. More gadgets left Slocum scratching his head, but one set of claws confirmed all he suspected.

Blood on the curved talons betrayed how Mackenzie had killed. The claws strapped on to his huge, gnarled hands. Then, like a bear, quick, vicious slashes ripped his victim to bloody ribbons.

“You fly down, no tracks, claw your quarry to death, then flap off,” Slocum said. It struck him as too complicated when Mackenzie could just shoot his victim. Then he remembered how crazy Mackenzie was. More than this, Mackenzie built fear in his gang and made everyone in Wilson's Creek think he held supernatural powers over the thunderbird.

Slocum whirled about, hand going to his six-gun, when the door opened.

“Wait, don't shoot. You're in danger,” Erika whispered. “He's coming back and is sure to find you if you stay.”

“I'll get rid of him once and for all,” Slocum said.

“He's got a dozen men with him. Please.” The red-haired barkeep motioned for him to follow her.

She had gotten him out of a tight spot before. Slocum saw no reason to think she was leading him into a trap now. If Erika had meant him harm, all she had to do was alert Mackenzie to him in this workshop.

He blew out the lamp and trailed behind her. Erika had gone to the rear of the corridor. Voices from the lobby told him not to ignore her warning. Several guards were silenced when Mackenzie roared in anger at them.

Erika turned and motioned for him to forget going downstairs. He ran to join her.

“Inside,” she said. “It'll be a tight fit, but we don't dare get caught up here. Going into Mackenzie's room means instant death.”

“By thunderbird?”

Erika smiled crookedly.

“He'd like you to think that. You know it's all bamboozling, don't you?”

“I saw the books with plans for wings. Does he actually fly?”

“Come on,” she said, prying back a wall board. With an agile twist, she slipped into the tight space beyond. Erika grabbed his coat and pulled insistently. “He doesn't know about this room.”

Slocum heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Whether Mackenzie came up or sent his men didn't matter. Fighting them off wasn't in the cards. Slocum grunted as the rough wooden edges tore at his clothes and skin. Barely had he popped through when Erika shoved the board back into place.

“You can look through here,” she told him, pressing close behind. He was aware more of her warm, curvy body than the peephole until she reached around him and tapped the wall beside it.

He bent slightly and positioned his eye to see through the knothole into the hallway. He caught his breath. Mackenzie came down the hall straight for him. For a moment Slocum thought the misshapen man had seen him. Mackenzie flexed his powerful arms, cracked his knuckles, then went back to his room, pausing a moment before going in. The door to the workshop closed with a definitive click that made Slocum sag just a little in relief.

“I saved you,” Erika said softly in his ear. “Now it's your turn. I want out of Wilson's Creek.”

“You have the run of the place,” Slocum said. “You can leave whenever you want.”

“It's not that simple. You just watched why not. Mackenzie's got a letch for me. If I tried to get away, he'd come for me pronto. As crazy as he is, he gets something fixed in his head and it doesn't go away easy.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You came back. You got one of the whores away, her and the special one Mackenzie had in the room just outside. Get me out, too.” Erika's voice dropped to a barely heard whisper, but he felt her hot breath and then the tiny nip as she worked on his earlobe with her teeth. “I'll make it worthwhile.”