The Ghost of Iron Eyes (An Iron Eyes Western Book 8) (12 page)

It took more than Apache
war-smoke to trouble him. He had been in far worse situations and
survived.

Clark had tried vainly to
ignore his own fears. Even with the reassurance of the bounty
hunter that the Apaches would neither see nor be interested in them
whilst there was bigger prey to fight, the men had covered the fire
with sand as soon as they were finished.

None of the lawmen from Waco
had any experience with Apaches, unlike the bounty hunter. Their
minds were filled with the terrifying stories that they had either
read about or been told by people who claimed to have encountered
the bold tribes of the Apache nation. Iron Eyes had firsthand
knowledge of them and to him it was simple.

They hated him and he hated
them.

But Iron Eyes held no fear of
the people whom he secretly respected. For unlike most whites he
had encountered
during his life, Apaches would never say one thing and mean
another. They had a basic honesty that he understood. You could
trust an Apache to kill you if he said that was what he intended
doing. Only white men spoke with forked tongues.

With storm-clouds masking
the moon Iron Eyes had led the four lawmen through the darkness
until they had spotted something out on the now silent landscape.
He had guided the four riders towards the distant glowing fire out
on the desert as if drawn like a moth to a candle-flame. Clark and
his trio of deputies had no idea what could be burning out in the
middle of nowhere, but Iron Eyes had already caught the scent of
death in his flared nostrils long before he had set eyes on the
fire. He knew that a supply wagon and its contents took a long time
to burn, especially when human and animal fat were added to the
grisly recipe.

For more than an hour the
intrepid quintet had ridden in almost total darkness.
Then at last the
moon appeared from behind the large black storm-clouds and cast its
haunting light on the scene of total carnage below.

At first it looked as if
sagebrush was scattered around the burning wagon. Then the truth
became evident to all of the horsemen as they drew closer and the
moonlight became brighter.

There was no
sagebrush.

It was a sea of bodies that
covered the sand.

Iron Eyes used his spurs to
urge the pony beneath him on and on towards the still-burning chuck
wagon that lay at the
center of the scene of devastation. Marshal Lane
Clark and his three deputies vainly tried to maintain the grueling
pace that their new-found companion was setting. Yet none of the
lawmen would inflict such punishment on their mounts as the bounty
hunter did on his.

Only when he had reached the
first of the bodies did Iron Eyes allow his pony to slow to a stop.
For more than two seemingly endless minutes Iron Eyes sat
astride his small
lathered-up mount waiting for Clark and his men to catch up with
him. Even his gruesome features could not hide the horror he felt
in his guts at the sickening sight.

Only when the lawmen hauled
rein and stopped their exhausted horses alongside the silent bounty
hunter did Iron Eyes throw his long thin right leg over the neck
and head of the pony and slide to the ground.

‘
Took
your time getting here, boys,’ Iron Eyes said, walking to the
still-burning chuck wagon. His narrowed eyes studied the fire
before looking at the bodies of Indians and Rangers as well as
countless horses scattered all around them.

Lane Clark dismounted and
gazed all around the sand.

‘
Look
at this carnage. There’s been a damn war here, Iron
Eyes.’

‘
Stupid,’ Iron Eyes growled angrily.

Clark stared hard at the
troubled bounty hunter.

‘
What
you mean, son?’

Iron Eyes looked at the
marshal.

‘
All
this killing for nothing, Clark. Ain’t no profit been made here by
anyone. To kill for killing’s sake is just damn stupid.’

‘
Don’t
you think of anything except bounty?’ Tom Ripley snouted down from
his mount. ‘Does everythin’ come down to just dollars and
cents?’

Iron Eyes gave the tired
deputy a sideways glance that could have frightened even the most
sturdy of men.

‘
Nope.
I’ve killed me a lot of Apaches over the years and not made a
penny.’

‘
Then
why did you do it?’ Ripley asked.

“
Coz
they was trying to kill me. There weren’t nothin’ personal in it.
This is just stupid. So much death and nothing was gained by
anyone. In my book, that’s stupid! Damn stupid!’

‘
That
must be what them smoke signals were sayin’, Lane,’ Col Drake said
as he climbed down off his saddle. ‘They must have spotted the
Texas Rangers and decided to ambush them.’

Iron Eyes walked along the
charred wood and blackened wagon-roof hoops. He paused at the sight
of the roasted carcasses of the horses. The four animals had burned
to death, trapped in their traces.

‘
Them
signals was about me, Deputy,’ he muttered. ‘Them Apaches have been
looking for me for the longest time. Reckon these poor Texas Ranger
varmints was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘
You
rate yourself mighty high, Iron Eyes,’ Pete Hall said, looking at
the bodies of Texas Rangers and Apache warriors bathed in the
moonlight. ‘I’d say them Injuns just thought they’d kill a lot of
Texans. Why would they be interested in you?’

Iron Eyes put a cigar in his
teeth and bit its tip off. He spat it at the sand and then leaned
over the
smoldering wagon and lit it from a glowing
ember.

‘
Them
Apache don’t like me.’ He puffed. ‘But then, it’s
mutual.’

The stunned deputies ambled
away
from
the wagon and started checking the bodies in a futile search for
any hint of life. The tall bounty hunter watched them, then
returned his attention to the sky above. Although the moon was big
and bright, more storm-clouds were gathering. He looked at the
flashes of white away in the distance and knew that the storm would
overtake them long before they ever reached Diamond
City.

‘
Don’t
let them boys of yours stray too far, Clark,’ Iron Eyes warned,
looking at the troubled marshal.

‘
Why
not, Iron Eyes?’ Lane Clark asked.

Iron Eyes exhaled a long
line of smoke and pointed the glowing tip of his cigar.

“
Coz
the Apaches who didn’t die here are over yonder. I reckon they’ll
be back to bury their dead before the sun rises.’

Clark swung around on his
heels and stared off into the darkness. He felt a cold chill trace
up his spine.

‘
Are
you sure?’

Iron Eyes pulled the cigar
from his mouth and tapped the ash away. He edged closer to the
lawman.

‘
I’m
sure. I can smell them.’

Clark looked back at Iron
Eyes.

‘
You
can?’

Iron Eyes nodded.

‘
Yep.
I reckon there are about fifty of the critters about half a mile in
that direction.’

Lane Clark
gulped.

‘
We
better get out of here and head on to Diamond City. I reckon we’ll
get there by sunset tomorrow.’

Iron Eyes paced back to his
skittish pony and dragged the animal forward until it was standing
next to what remained of the burning wagon. He stepped into the
stirrup and hauled himself on to the saddle.

‘
I
know a short cut, Clark. We can be there just after sun up if we
ride now.’

Clark
’s jaw dropped.

‘
By
sun up?’

‘
Yep.’
Iron Eyes reached back and plucked his whiskey bottle from the
saddlebags. He pulled its cork, took two long swallows and then
tossed his cigar into the belly of the wagon. ‘Get them boys back
here and mounted before them Apaches get our scent.’

‘
But
they won’t attack in the dark. Right?’ Clark asked.

‘
Don’t
bet your pension on that one, Marshal.’ Iron Eyes spurred hard and
rode through the slaughtered bodies. ‘C’mon!’

Lightning flickered in the
black sky above Diamond City as the storm unleashed its fury. The
temperature was dropping fast as a cold wind replaced the hot
stifling air amid the buildings. An hour earlier the moon and every
star had disappeared behind the gathering storm-clouds that loomed
ominously above the high ridges and fertile ranges far to the
south, yet the two men who crept between the buildings and through
the shadows were drowning in their own sweat. For they knew the
dangers that they faced if they were to be discovered by the Darrow
brothers. Rain started to fall as Luther Cole led the way towards
the deserted telegraph office with Henry Jardine a few paces behind
him. The pair of outlaws had ridden together for more years than
either of them could recall
and knew instinctively how to protect each other’s
backs.

The two men took advantage of
the fact that no one had lit any of the street-lanterns along
Diamond City
’s main street. Neither of them wanted to be spotted by
their unpredictable and deadly companions.

Even though it was the early
hours of the morning, light from the middle saloon still cascaded
across the wide street and reached the porch of the telegraph
office. It looked as if countless precious jewels were dancing in
the light as droplets of rain continued to fall. Cole and Jardine
stepped cautiously up on to the raised boardwalk and ran the last
few yards to the still-open doorway.

They entered the office and
moved behind the desk. Dried blood still covered the papers next to
the telegraph key where Cole had chopped the fingers off the small
man who had tried to send a message to the outside world begging
for help.

Jardine sat down on the
swivel-chair and carefully checked the telegraph key.

It was
operational.

‘
Now
we put the fox in the henhouse, partner,’ Jardine said, rolling up
his right sleeve and flexing his fingers. ‘I sure hope that I ain’t
forgot how to do this.’

Luther Cole kept staring at
the street and the rain between themselves and the
saloon.

‘
Just
do it.’

‘
Don’t
fret. Even the Darrows have to sleep sometime.’

‘
There’s somebody in the saloon. If it’s them, you and me
are in the line of fire.’

‘
Go
and stay by the door, Luther,’ Jardine ordered as his fingers
started to tap the key. ‘Keep them eyes of yours wide open. If you
see just one of them Darrow boys, tell me!’

‘
Hurry
up. We gotta get out of here.’

Cole made his way to the door.
He rested a shoulder against the warped frame
and stared out into the quiet
street. His eyes focused on the flickering lights inside the saloon
as shadows moved across the painted-glass windows.

‘
It
has to be Toke and his brothers, Henry. I seen most of the rest of
the boys going to their beds hours back.’

Jardine said nothing as his
index finger continued to tap the telegraph key. Within a few
moments he received a short response.

‘
We
got Waco!’

Luther nodded but kept his
eyes on the street and the saloon that was bathed in lantern light,
unlike any of the other buildings in the long street.

‘
Just
get it done,’ he pleaded.

Jardine started to tap out his
message to the marshal
’s office in Waco telling them that the D arrow
brothers were headed their way. He also added that the three
brothers had slaughtered over two hundred men, women and children
during the previous couple of months. The only omission was his and
the rest of his gang’s part in the gruesome slayings of so many
innocent souls in town after town before they had reached Diamond
City.

‘
What
ya tellin’ them, Henry?’ Cole whispered.

‘
I’
m telling them that they will soon have the company of
three of the baddest bastards ever to ride into Waco, Luther,’
Jardine replied. ‘I’ve left our part in the killings and robberies
out of it.’

Cole chuckled quietly. Then
suddenly he stopped and stood upright. The swing-doors of the
saloon were pushed wide enough for the three figures to step out on
to the porch.

‘
Damn!’ he gasped.

Jardine moved away from the
desk to his friend
’s side and squinted out towards the saloon through the
driving rain. He took a deep breath.