Wild (3 page)

“Someone put these here for camouflage, Tom.” He finished pulling up the rest of the weeds. Each one had been staked into the ground, and when he’d cast them all aside, a black patch of scorched earth was revealed. “Someone camped here recently.”

Kurt had come down off his horse by this time, and picked through the burnt soil. After a moment, he rose to his feet and shook the dust from a handful of blackened metal.

“More of those coins.” He showed Matt what he’d found. “Seems to me we’re on the trail.”

“Killing I understand, but burning money?” Tom said. “I didn’t think even Oliver was
that
crazy. Good thing you have me along.”

“You should be earning your keep soon enough,” Kurt said. “Just remember, now...we’re bringing them in alive, unless they give us no other choice.”

“We’ll see what happens, deputy.” Tom grinned. “You find anything else there?”

There wasn’t much else in the remains of the fire but a couple of tin cans and some stray cigarette ends. Matt rolled himself a smoke and stood off to the side, thinking.

“This had to have happened before they took Waters and his boy,” he was saying when I walked over.

“Why is that?” Kurt asked.

“Would you murder a local celebrity and then rest this close to the edge of town?”

“No, I reckon I wouldn’t.” The deputy shook his head.

“The more I think about it, the more I don’t think those two were killed, either,” Matt said.

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” Kurt said. “What’s your take?”

“Simple, really,” I said. They stopped and looked at me, and all of a sudden I was embarrassed. But Kurt grinned even wider.

“Well, go on, son,” Matt told me.

“Who wants to carry around over two hundred pounds of dead weight if they don’t have to, especially if they’re on the run?” I said. “If the point of the encounter had only been murder, most men would have left the bodies where they fell.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Matt said.

I smiled and went back to my horse.

We made it to the outskirts of Mesilla by the next afternoon. The land was flat and desolate in every direction except for straight ahead. When we stopped, Matt jumped from his horse and headed for the nearest large group of tumbleweeds. The first cluster he kicked at was loose, but the second one held firm until he ripped it out of the ground, trailing metal stakes and clumps of dirt.

“More money,” he said when I reached him.

“Lemme see,” Black Tom said, squeezing past. Matt shrugged and handed the outlaw the most recent handful of coins. Black Tom spit on one of the coins and rubbed it on his denim pants. “I can’t get it too clean, but there’s no way this here is American coin.” He put the coin in his mouth and bit down. “Gold,” he said, showing us the marks his teeth had left, “if not pure, then damned close.”

“It doesn’t look like Mexican money, either,” I said.

“No. I’ve seen a lot more money than any of you are likely to if you live to be a hundred,” Tom said. “I’ve never seen coins like this.”

I kicked the blackened earth around, looking for more clues, and found what looked like a polished, yellow stone. It seemed out of place, so I picked it up.

“It’s a tooth,” I said when I saw it up close. The other men came over for a closer look.

“Now
this
is interesting,” Kurt said. “It’s a man’s tooth alright. Too big to be the boy’s.”

Black Tom laughed as he lit up a cigarette. “Looks like the colonel zigged when he should have zagged.”

“No, this couldn’t have been Colonel Waters’ either. I know for a fact that he wears dentures. This had to have come from one of the kidnappers.”

“Well, Lee Oliver is hardly one to inspire loyalty.” Tom snickered. “Not like myself.”

“They must have fought after the fire died,” I said, “Otherwise the tooth would be blackened, too.”

“Absolutely,” Matt said.

“Keep this up,
señor
, Kearney’s gonna have you deputized,” Black Tom said.

We stood by the remains of the kidnappers’ camp and smoked fresh cigarettes and talked, when suddenly the wind shifted and our horses took off running towards the town all at once.

We smelled our attackers before we saw them.

“What’s that—” Matt whirled about, and then they were on us. Ten men shambled out of the hills, dressed more in dirt than in actual clothing; what little they wore was tattered and stained. Some were even barefoot. They howled when they saw us.

“Sheriff’s deputy! Stop where you are,” Kurt cried, pointing his gleaming badge at the men.

They were unarmed, but I could sense the threat rolling off them like fog in the breeze. Matt drew his guns and yelled at them once more to halt. They kept coming, as slowly as before, howling softly and reaching for us.

“Screw this,” Black Tom said, and pulled out his guns. He fired two shots as soon as he cleared leather, catching two of the ragged men in the chest. Clouds of flesh burst free of each, but little blood.

They didn’t stop coming. They didn’t even slow down.

“What the hell?” Tom stood there, slack-jawed, as the first of them reached us. It clawed at Tom’s throat, and the outlaw took a step back, tripped over a rock and fired as he went down. His shot took off the top of his attacker’s skull, spraying brains and bone all over. This time it fell.

“Spread out!” Matt yelled, firing over his shoulder as he gave himself room to maneuver.

Another creature fell as I scrambled away. I saw my bedroll lying near a large rock and grabbed it as I dove for cover. It must have fallen from my horse when he ran off. I quickly untied the twine wrapped around it.

Someone screamed and I turned to see Kurt on his back, in the dirt. Another of the things had fallen to his gun, but he’d tripped, and now two more attackers were closing in. I got a good look at them this time. One of them was missing an eye; no, it was dangling from its socket! The skin was gray and pulled back tightly from their teeth, and their scalps were bare in places. A dull, gleaming patch of skull showed through on one of them.

The deputy crawled for his dropped revolver, spun around on his knees when he’d retrieved it, and fired. The hammer fell on an empty chamber. He fumbled with the spare rounds at his belt as the nearest creature reached for him. I finally got my bedroll unwrapped and pulled out my service revolver. I hadn’t fired it in years, but it was loaded. I said a prayer to Santa Maria as I ran to Kearney’s side. I shot the first one in the face, and it fell, twitching, beside the deputy. I hit the other one with my shoulder, knocking it off balance, then took a step back and fired. Its head disintegrated.

“Down!” Kearney yelled, and I dropped to the ground. The deputy closed the cylinder of his revolver and fired over me, and another creature hit the dirt right in front of my face. I crawled away and vomited.

Then it was over.

“Good shooting, Juan,” Matt said, blowing the smoke from his pistols and holstering them. “Did you have that with you the whole time?”

“Yes,” I said as I wiped my mouth.

“And you didn’t think about shooting those cowboys back in town?”

“Of course I did,
señor
,” I said, “But they were unarmed. I’ve never killed an unarmed man.” I paused for a moment and looked around at the gore-strewn desert. “Until now, of course.”

“You’re a better man than me,” Black Tom said. “I think you can put your mind at ease, though.” He kicked at one of the corpses. “There’s no way these fellas were alive when they attacked us.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“Your
madre
never told you any fairy tales when you were a
niño
?”

“Sure, about witches and magic and—”

“Yeah, well...how do you explain this?” The outlaw asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Damn,” Kurt muttered. He stood a short distance away, cradling his left arm. Matt ran over and examined him.

“One of those things bit him,” Matt said. “Do we have anything sharp?”

“
Si
,” I said. “I have an ax in my bedroll, for chopping firewood. It fell off when my horse ran away. What do you need it for?”

“Aw shit,” Tom said. “I know what he’s thinking. Just get the ax,
señor
. The whole bedroll, while you’re at it.”

I jogged to the rock where I’d left my things and brought back the ax, a pillow, and my blanket. When I returned, Matt and Tom had laid Kurt down in the dirt.

“Put the pillow under his head,” Matt said.

While I did, Tom wrapped a dangling piece of twine around the deputy’s arm, slid a stick under it, and twisted, drawing the string tight.

“That’s dangerous, Matt. Cutting off circulation this far from a hospital could cost the deputy his limb,” I said.

“I know. I’ve heard stories, too,” Matt said, pulling a flask from his back pocket and undoing his belt. “I’m going to cut his arm off, so the infection doesn’t spread, if there is one.”

“
Madre de Dios
!” I cried, reaching to undo the string. “Are you crazy? I have medical training. I can clean and dress the wound.”

“Look, I know it sounds
loco
,” Tom said, pulling me back. “But we just fought the walking dead. You saw them take a bullet to the chest without stopping, just like I did. Now, it might just be a big pile of shit, but do you want to risk the infection spreading and turning the deputy into one of them? Even
I
don’t think he deserves that.”

“It’s okay, Juan,” Kurt murmured. “I don’t want to chance it, either.”

“You should do it,” Matt said, handing me the ax. “You’re the doc.”

“Yes, I am the doc. And I’m telling you that you’re making a diagnosis based on a fairy tale, that we’re not in a sterile environment, and that he has a much greater chance of infection from an amputation than from a bite.”

“C’mon,
señor
,” Tom said, snatching the flask and taking a long pull. “You mean to tell me the deputy’s got bigger
cojones
than you? Hell, I’ve done worse, Gimme the axe.”

“No!” I said, taking a deep breath. “If it’s going to happen either way, he’s definitely safer with me. Give him some whiskey, but save some to pour on my ax, and for when I’m done.” Matt took back the flask and dumped a slug of whiskey down the deputy’s throat, then poured some on the ax. Afterward, he doubled up his belt and stuck it in Kurt’s mouth.

“Bite down hard,” I told him, testing the tightness of the twine around his arm. Then I planted my knees firmly in the dirt and raised the ax over my head. I swung. The ax bit deep.

Blood flew into my face, and I turned away, vomiting. Kurt screamed loudly, but just once. When I wiped the gore from my eyes, I wished I was still blinded. White bone, glistening red meat and thick, yellow fat, and tendon showed through where I had cut. The deputy had fallen unconscious.

“No time for that, Juan,” Matt said. I spit in the sourness from my mouth as I turned back to the deputy. One more swing and it was finished. I stumbled off to throw up some more. Kurt’s waking screams and the thick smell of burning flesh as Matt and Tom sealed the deputy’s wound with fire didn’t make things any better.

“You did good, doc,” Tom said when I finally returned. He rose to his feet and let out a loud, piercing whistle.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I dumped whiskey on the smoking, blackened wound, shredded the blanket, and tied a large wad of it around the deputy’s stump.

“Whistling for my boys,” Tom said. “Don’t get all excited. Your pals knew they were following us, and I knew that
they
knew.” Sure enough, a cloud of dust rose up in the distance. A minute later, James and Will pulled their horses up alongside us. Matt had loosened his guns in their holsters once more, but appeared to be otherwise relaxed.

“What the Hell happened, Tom?” James asked as he jumped down from his horse. “Looks like a massacre.”

“Something like that. I would have whistled you up sooner, but it was over before I could think.”

“You
did
hear the gunfire though, right?” Matt asked. “Or did you think that was your friend here blasting us all to kingdom come?” The two men looked at their feet.

“Take the deputy here back to El Paso,” the outlaw said. “And if anything happens to him, you’ll answer to me.”

“You’re staying with them, Tom?” Will asked.

“Hell yeah. If I can handle these guys,” he said, pointing at the corpses, “I can handle a mystery man and a doctor. “Besides,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “Oliver, or whoever hired him, has money to burn. I plan on getting some of it.”

“What do we do now?” I asked once Tom’s men rode off with Kurt.

“You seem to have a gift for this sort of work, Juan,” Matt said. “What do you think we need to do?”

“We need to go into Mesilla and get our horses and gear,” I said, “but we should also trace our attackers’ trail into the hills and see what we can find. I think we need to split up.”