Timecachers (52 page)

The answer amused the rube greatly. He opened his toothless, smelly cavern of a mouth and brayed like a mule. Sal assumed it was laughter.

“Watchin’ the place? You doin’ a hell of a job, princess!” he said between bellows of laughter.

Sal heard a voice from behind say, “Knock off the clownin’ and get him to tell you where the old man keeps the gold. Then we can cut his throat an’ git outa here.”

“Shut up, dumbass!” said the man holding Sal. “He ain’t gonna tell us nuthin’ if’n he thinks we’re gonna kill him anyway.” He looked into Sal’s eyes fiercely and tightened the grip around his neck. “Lookee here now, princess, we know that ol’ man’s got gold hid here somewhere. You tell me where it is, and I’ll try to keep dumbass here from killin’ ya.”

“There ain’t no gold here,” Sal whispered huskily.

The blow struck him with enough force that it would have lifted him from his feet had he not been held in place by the hand around his throat. His spine felt as if someone had swung a baseball bat into the small of his back. After the initial intense pain, his legs went completely numb. When the grip on his neck was released, he sunk to the floor as if his bones had turned to jelly.

The second man, standing over him with a wooden cudgel, smiled at him and said, “Wanna try that answer again, princess?”

“Don’t… have… any… gold,” Sal spoke slowly, not able to catch his breath. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to shield his head with his arms, anticipating another blow.

“Git him outside,” said the man with the cudgel. “He’ll tell us once you start a choppin’ off a little of him at a time.”

They each grabbed an arm and dragged him to the door, then tossed him through it. He landed hard in the dirt. Sal let out a low moan, followed by a yelp of pain as each of the men gave him a kick. They brusquely pulled him to his feet. The man who struck him with the cudgel held him upright while the man with the knife grabbed his left hand, placing the blade tightly against Sal’s index finger.

“You’re gonna tell me where that gold is, or I’m gonna start by cuttin’ yer fingers off. Then I’m gonna move on to more important parts. Last chance to keep your finger, princess. Where’s the gold?”

Sal blinked away enough of the blood to look into the man’s eyes. He knew they would kill him whether he told them or not, so his choice was to either suffer through their torture, or give in to what they wanted and hope they killed him quickly. Unfortunately for Sal, he was never one to give in.

“Screw you, hillbilly,” croaked Sal, spitting a mouthful of thick, bloody saliva into the man’s face.

A momentary look of disbelief crossed the man’s face as he wiped away the bloody sputum with his shirt sleeve. He stared into Sal’s eyes with rage and hatred. “That just cost you yer whole hand.” He tightened his grip on Sal’s hand and repositioned the knife, pressing it into the flesh of his wrist.

Sal clenched his teeth and with incredible resolve, resisted pleading for his life. He defiantly locked eyes with his attacker. “There ain’t no freakin’ gold!” he insisted. He felt the pressure of the knife on his wrist increase.

“You’ll tell me one way or t’other!” He pressed down even harder on the knife. Blood began to flow from Sal’s wrist.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes turned glassy and blank. He dropped the knife and clutched at a wooden shaft which had abruptly burst from his neck. His mouth moved as if he were trying to speak, looking like a fish gasping for air. Instead of words, he emitted a wet, gargling sound as blood erupted from his mouth. Still clutching the arrow, he dropped heavily to the ground, exposing the arrowhead piercing through the back of his neck. His legs twitched reflexively for a moment before all movement ceased.

The other man stared in horror at his fallen cohort. A sudden movement drew his attention to Yonah, standing no more than twenty yards away, who had just released a second arrow. The man was still holding Sal, depriving Yonah of a clear shot. Sal heard the arrow hiss as it flew past, narrowly missing the man’s head and then burying itself into the cabin wall beyond. The man let out a shriek of fear, released Sal, and hightailed to the safety of the woods. Yonah quickly loosed a third arrow, which grazed the man as he dove for cover. Sal heard his scream as he disappeared into the trees.

Yonah ignored the fleeing man and turned his attention to Sal, who had fallen to the ground when the man released him. “Are you hurt badly, my friend?” Yonah asked, examining Sal’s forehead, still bleeding freely where he had been struck with the knife handle.

“My head hurts, my back is killing me, and my legs are tingling like they’re on fire,” he answered through the blood running from his nose and across his lips. He wiped his sleeve across his face and looked at the dead man lying next to him, arrow protruding from his neck. “But I’m in a lot better shape than that dude. That was pretty awesome shooting, Tonto.”

“Not that awesome. I was aiming for his heart.”

“Hey, you got him anyway, and I’m damn glad you did. That moron was going to cut my hand off!

“You won’t call me princess anymore, will you, stink-breath.” Sal gave the body a half-hearted kick and was rewarded with a spasm of pain in his back. “Too bad you missed the other one.” He paused a moment to consider. “Hey, man! You missed your mark on the first dude, and then you shot at the other one while he was still holding me. Holy crap, you could have shot me!”

Yonah shrugged. “They were going to kill you anyway. I think my arrow would have been a better way to die than getting chopped into pieces.”

“How considerate; you’re a regular Dr. Kevorkian. Thanks ever so much, dude,” Sal said sarcastically.

“You are welcome,” Yonah replied, his expression offering no indication that he was being facetious. “But I also regret I did not get the other man. Now we must get you well enough to travel and leave here hurriedly.”

“Leave? Why? I bet that dude is still running. You’re not worried about him coming back, are you?”

“He will not return right away, but he may report what happened here to the militia. They will come to arrest me for killing this man. After they have taken me away, he may return to continue his search.”

“You killed him in defense of me and your home! No way they can arrest you for that, man. And you’ve got me for a witness.”

“This is a white man,” Yonah said, indicating the body. “I am red. That is all that will be seen. They will arrest me for his murder.”

“Not if I can help it, Tonto. I ain’t gonna stand by and let them hang your ass for saving my life.”

“There is not much you can do to prevent it. You have proven your bravery, Squirrel-man, but even you cannot take on the entire military.”

Sal’s face was a mask of frustration. He was not used to situations where he could not get his way. “In that case Tonto,” he winced painfully as he struggled to get to his feet, “I better get cleaned up so we can make tracks.”

“Easy, my friend,” Yonah said, putting his arm around Sal and helping him to the cabin. “We should assess the damage before you move too much. The tingling in your legs is probably a good sign, but we must hope that the blow to your back did not cause any permanent damage.”

Sal washed the blood from his face and wrist, and then let Yonah apply some of his homemade salve to retard further bleeding. His nose had stopped bleeding, and Sal rinsed his mouth with salt water to get rid of the bad taste. Yonah gave him some analgesic herbs, examined his back, and ordered Sal to move his legs into various positions.

“There appears to be no broken bones, and you are getting the use of your legs back quickly. I am afraid, though, that you will be in much pain for a few days. Your back is already bruising nastily. The herbs will help reduce your soreness. You have a nasty gash on your forehead and both of your eyes are blackening, so you will be quite ugly for a while.”

“You ain’t no beauty queen either, Tonto, even without getting beaten up.”

“That is true, Squirrel-man,” Yonah laughed. “We make quite a pair.”

Then Yonah became quite solemn. He placed his hand upon Sal’s shoulder and spoke earnestly. “I must tell you,” he said, “you have once again shown courageousness in the face of life-threatening danger, and you have my great respect. I have now seen your bravery with my own eyes. But I must ask—why didn’t you just tell them where the gold was hidden? Surely my small fortune is not worth sacrificing your life.”

“Hey man, it’s the principle. I’ll be damned if some redneck is going to push me around—especially one who calls me princess. But now I’ve got a question for you, Tonto. How the hell did you get outside from up there,” nodding his head toward the loft, “without going through the door?”

“Surely you know that all us Indians have magical powers? I simply transformed myself into a bird and flew out the window.”

“Turned yourself into a bird, huh? I think you turned into a bull, old man, because the crap’s getting deep in here.”

“It seems your wisdom is emerging along with your bravery,” Yonah grinned. “In fact, the truth is much less mysterious. I simply had risen earlier, and gone out to greet the sunrise. When I returned I heard the thieves accosting you, and waited for an opportune time to act.”

Yonah reexamined Sal’s injuries. “If you think you can travel, we should be going now. We will first go to Henri Acres place, and let them know what has occurred.”

Sal flexed his legs and nodded in the affirmative. “Yeah, I think I can make it to old Henry Pym’s place if it ain’t too far,” he said, unconcerned that Yonah would not understand his reference to the comic book character.

They each put together a carry sack, including the medical supplies, the leftover food Henri had brought, and some other odds and ends. Yonah carried his bow, which he had restrung with a spare piece of sinew, and a quiver of arrows. He also had his hunting knife and a small hatchet tucked into his belt. Yonah then went to the fireplace, removed the stone, and retrieved the bag containing his gold and the handful of coins. “I will bring this along, since you paid such a high price and nearly gave up your life for it. It may prove to be very useful later.” He dropped the gold into his carry sack.

When they were ready to go, Yonah took a moment to give his cabin a final look. He sighed but did not speak. It was likely to be the last time he would see the place.

Exiting the cabin, Sal prodded the dead man and said, “What should we do with him?”

“Did you want to take his scalp?” Yonah asked.

“His scalp! No way, dude! I meant, should we bury him?”

“I know what you meant, Squirrel-man. We will let his own people attend to him. They are likely to be here soon enough.”

Henri’s cabin was a few miles of climbing up and down switchback trails, which proved quite painful for Sal. He was relieved when they finally ascended the last rise and saw the cabin. Yonah gave a sharp whistle as they approached, but Henri Acres was already coming through the door when they entered the clearing.

“
Osiyo
!” Henri roared, jogging out to greet them. “I am delighted you came for a visit! I did not expect to see you again so soon!
Bienvenue
,
mes amis
!” he said, placing his brawny hand on Yonah’s shoulder. He was startled when he caught sight of Sal’s battered face. “
Sacrebleu
! What happened to the Little Squirrel? He is looking more like the raccoon than the squirrel.” Both of Sal’s eyes had blackened.

“Look here, Goliath,” Sal snapped, “I’m in no mood…”

“As you predicted, Henri,” Yonah interrupted, “we were visited by thieves this morning. They caught Squirrel-man unawares and tortured him, attempting to force him to disclose the hiding place of my valuables. He was most brave, and revealed nothing to them, even when they threatened his life.”

“
Quelle horreur
! They abused you most dreadfully.” He winced at Sal’s battered face. “How did you escape them?”

Sal glanced at Yonah. He wasn’t sure how much he should reveal to Henri.

“That is why we are here,” Yonah answered without reservation. “I caught them inflicting their malice upon him when I returned from my morning walk. It was necessary to take dire action.”

“Yonah,
mon vieil ami
. Surely you did not…”

“I am afraid so. I placed an arrow through the man’s windpipe. He is dead. There was no choice; he was about to inflict a mortal wound to Squirrel-man. Unfortunately his cohort escaped.”

“
Mon dieu
, this is most distressing. They will surely be after you for this. We must conceive a plan to keep you from their grasp until we can be assured of your fair treatment. Let us go inside quickly, and not remain here exposed. Meggie will be pleased to see you, in spite of the circumstances.”

“I do not believe there is any immediate danger, Henri. The other man was well frightened, and will spend some time washing out his britches before he considers telling anyone about what happened to his partner. He may eventually realize that it would be to his advantage to do so. As far as my getting fair treatment, that is not likely no matter what steps I take.”

While they were walking toward Henri’s cabin, a woman appeared at the open door. She had the same obsidian-black, piercing eyes as Yonah, and her wizened face was just as wrinkled. Her straight, raven hair was parted in the middle, pulled back tightly, and folded into a chignon. It was a contrast to her brother’s thick, white hair. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, staring admonishingly at Yonah.