Spanish Gold (20 page)

Davis finally began to use the sights. He followed the progress of one brave, and the instant the man was in the sights, he fired. The round hit a stone and whined off into the distance. But that started it. The men with him opened up, their rifles rattling. The Apaches did not shoot back. They dodged from tree to rock to bush, showing themselves briefly and then diving to hide. Bullets slammed into the trees, or kicked up sand, or chipped the rocks. And still the Apaches came on.

Davis caught one of the Indians as he made a final run for the foot of the bluff. The round spun him around, and he threw his rifle into the air. He fell to the sand and didn't move again.

“One down,” said Davis quietly, as if speaking to himself.

“Got another coming up here,” said Bradford. He fired then, and there was a scream of pain.

But all the Apaches had reached the foot of the bluff near the body of the man just killed, and were not climbing up the rocks. They used the crevices and outcroppings and the depressions to hide. They began to shoot, too. Single shots that chipped at the stones near Davis and his tiny band of defenders.

“Got one to the right,” said a voice. “Coming up now.”

Davis saw movement out of the corner of his eye, whirled, and fired. The round missed, striking a stone with a high-pitched sound. The Apache leaped in among them, raising a knife over his head. He swung it at Davis who dodged right and fired again. The Apache was hit low, in the stomach. He grabbed at himself and fell, his blood pumping onto the sand.

That marked a change in the battle. While they had been watching the Indians playing the game in front of them, others had been approaching from the sides. A second Indian, and then a third, came over the rocks, leaping among the defenders.

Webster was the first to die. He didn't see the Apache dive over a rock and come at him. The Indian plunged the knife into Webster's back and then shoved him down. He jumped on Webster's back, jerked at his hair and cut his throat.

Davis shot the Apache but it did Webster no good. His blood pumped out onto the sand at the base of a rock. There was an odor of bowel and hot copper. The whole area was beginning to stink of that and gunpowder and sweat.

Bailey died next as one of the Apaches shot him in the face. Bailey might not have realized what was happening. He'd been delirious from the heat and from the pain of his wounds.

Davis watched the others go down one by one. They were shot or stabbed or clubbed. They fought as long as they could, some of them wounded. Finally there was only Davis left alive. The others were lying on the ground around him in bloody heaps. It was apparent that the Apaches planned on taking him alive.

For a moment, they had a stand-off. He was surrounded by the Apaches, who didn't move only because he held a pistol in his hand. He moved it from the chest of one brave to that of another as they would move.

Davis knew that there was no hope now. He was as good as dead. The question was did he want to go easy or hard. He knew the Apaches would keep him alive as long as possible, as they thought of ways to amuse themselves while they tortured him to death.

Grinning suddenly, he turned his pistol on himself, the barrel against his temple. He hesitated briefly, not giving himself time to think. He pulled the trigger.

There was a blinding flash of white light and a deafening roar as pain flared red-hot in his head. The sunlight was fading. Everything was getting dark around him. The sounds were fading, too. Davis had no idea what was happening to him. All he knew was that he must have drunk everything in the bar because he had the granddaddy of all hangovers.

And then he knew nothing at all.

The firing had tapered to almost nothing when Travis reached the narrow passage that would lead out of the cave. He crouched in the entrance, suddenly unsure of what to do. He could hear the Apaches whooping and screaming, but there was no firing now. He wondered if Davis and the others had been killed.

Crockett approached, leaned close, and whispered, “What's going on?”

“I don't know.” Travis stood up but could see nothing. “Maybe you'd better wait here and I'll go take a quick look around.”

“I don't want to stay here.”

“It's the safest place around right now. I'll be back in a matter of minutes.”

She stared at him and finally nodded once. “But you hurry. I'm not going to wait long.”

Travis nodded and left the corridor. He kept his back to the solid rock and worked his way up to the mesa in front of the cave. From there he could see nothing. No sign that the Apaches had attacked and none that any of the others were alive. All he could hear was the shouting of the Indians.

Keeping low, he worked his way through the passage, but before he reached the end of it, he saw two Apaches facing away from him. One of them held what looked like the severed arm of a man. The other Indian held a rifle that looked like the one Davis had been using. If that was true, it would mean that Davis was dead.

Without any firing, the only conclusion was that everyone had been killed. He started to slip back into the narrow passage so that he could return to the cave. The noise of the leather of his boots scraping on the stone sounded like the roar of a wounded mountain lion now that he could see the enemy near.

One of the Apaches turned and looked right at him. For an instant the Indian didn't react and then shouted a warning.

Travis whirled and pushed his way back through the passage. He heard the Apaches howling behind him but didn't turn to look at them. He didn't want to waste the time.

He reached the overhang and slipped down into it. Then he turned, saw one Apache in the entrance of it. Travis raised his rifle and fired. The Indian collapsed, falling down so that his body was wedged in it.

Travis scrambled back down to the entrance of the cave. He saw Crockett crouched there, watching him.

“What happened?” she asked.

Travis pushed his way in. “They're all dead.”

“You sure?”

“Sure enough and now they're coming after us.”

“What are we going to do?”

Travis turned, but the Apaches had not crossed the mesa yet. They were probably still celebrating the deaths of the others. In a few minutes they'd begin moving after him and Crockett. They'd want a clean sweep.

“Back into the cave,” he said.

“We'll be trapped in there,” she said.

“But they'll only be able to come through one at a time. They won't be able to get at us.”

“But we can't get out.”

“Right now,” said Travis, “I don't see that as a problem. Right now all we can worry about is keeping them away from us.”

Crockett moved to the rear, through the passage again. As she did, there was a single shot. The bullet ricocheted down the passageway. The sound echoed through the chambers of the cave, sounding like a battle had started.

Travis followed her and then ran across the first chamber until he was close to the entrance of the second. Opposite him was the bright square that led to the outside.

There was more firing from outside. The bullets whined through the entrance and then bounced around the inside of the chamber.

“Get down,” said Travis. “And stay down.”

He found a place behind a stalagmite. He checked his rifle, made sure it was ready, and then kept his eyes on the opening. The Apaches would come through it, he was sure. But they'd be easy to pick off when they did.

The firing picked up as the Apaches poured rounds into the cave. It sounded like thunder outside with a screaming of the bullets on the inside.

“Stop it!” screamed Crockett suddenly. “Stop it!” She had her hands over her head to protect herself.

Travis still watched the opening. A shadow passed in front of it, but no one came through. As that happened, he realized that if the Apaches waited until night, there would be no way for him to see them. They could crawl right in and eliminate him and Crockett easily. Or even worse, capture them.

But the Apaches apparently hadn't thought of that. An instant later one of them dived into the chamber. He slipped on the soft, loose sand and when he stopped moving, Travis fired twice. The Indian went down loosely, dead.

“There's another,” warned Crockett.

Travis swung his weapon around and pulled the trigger. The Apache fell back into the passageway. A shadow flashed again and Travis fired at it but hit nothing other than stone.

The Apaches began to shoot again. More bullets bounced around the interior of the chamber. Chips of stone were flying as the bullets struck them.

“They keep it up,” yelled Crockett over the sounds of the echoes and the firing, “they'll hit us.”

Travis said nothing for a moment. As the shooting began to taper again, he said, “Head back into that other chamber.”

She turned and began to crawl toward it. Travis still watched the entrance. That was the key. If the Apaches could force that, they would be able to get in and kill them.

But no one appeared there. The firing stopped and Travis was sure they would try to get in again, but no one showed himself. Travis stood up and backed up toward the second passageway.

“You're clear,” said Crockett.

Travis didn't look at her. He didn't want anyone getting into the cave without him knowing about it. He was getting worried because it had gotten so quiet out there.

“What are they doing?” asked Crockett.

“I don't know,” said Travis. “I hope they're not waiting for dark.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they could get in here easily then. There would be no way to stop them.”

“So what are we going to do?”

That was the question that had Travis stumped. There was only one way out and the Apaches had that one covered. What kept them out of the cave was the same thing that kept Ihtvis and Crockett in. Only one person could move through the passage at a time, and that person was vulnerable to whoever was at the other end.

“Maybe if we go deeper,” suggested Crockett.

“And do what?”

“I don't know, but we can't stay here.”

Travis shot a glance at her. She was right about that. Staying would mean they would die sometime before morning and probably a lot sooner than that.

“Maybe we can get back in there far enough that they won't be able to find us,” he said.

Crockett pushed past him and grabbed one of the torches that was laying in the sand. “We're going to need this.”

Travis looked at it and then back up at the main entrance. Still no sign of the Apaches. When Crockett stuck the torch up at him, he slipped a match from his pocket, struck it, and used it to ignite the torch.

“Go first,” he said.

Crockett ducked and entered the second tunnel. A moment later Travis followed her. When he came out, he said, “Around behind the gold.”

Crockett did as told and Travis followed her. He kept looking back at the entrance to the chamber, but it was wrapped in darkness now. The Apaches, if they knew what was happening, could be sneaking in. Travis didn't think they were.

“I don't see anything,” she said.

Travis joined her. The light breeze blowing up from the bowels of the cavern caused the flame to flicker. Travis suddenly realized that it would have to be coining from an opening somewhere. Not necessarily large enough for them to crawl through, but it would certainly be there.

“Over here,” she said.

Travis saw that she was standing in front of a rounded opening that looked as if it had been drilled in the stone. It was definitely large enough for them to crawl through.

“Go,” he said.

She climbed up and into the tunnel so that she was on her hands and knees with one hand on the stone and one holding the torch. She moved her knee forward, keeping the torch held out in front of her.

Looking back over her shoulder, she called, “Looks to be ten or fifteen feet long.”

Travis waited until she was out of the way and then entered the tunnel. He followed her until she stopped and waited as she climbed from the tunnel. He then moved forward and stuck his head out. And couldn't believe what he was seeing.

“My God,” he said.

“I didn't think there'd be more,” she said. She crouched in front of a chest filled with jewels. This was what she had expected when her father had told her about the gold. She had expected chests.

The whole chamber was guarded by dead Spanish soldiers. They were little more than skeletons now. Or piles of bones. They were sitting around the floor, weapons across their laps as if they were just resting before going back on guard. There were pennants and flags with them, now faded with age.

“Apaches must have brought some of the bodies in to watch the treasure for them.”