Preachers hell, p.14
Preacher's Hell, page 14
As Preacher followed, he saw that the big Crow was pointing toward a large log structure on the other side of the blacksmith shop.
Suddenly men swarmed from the cabins and ran to the stockade wall. They bounded upstairs to the parapet that ran around the inside and began firing rifles over the wall, aiming toward the woods across the creek.
Preacher wasn’t sure what they were shooting at, but he assumed Audie was responsible for some sort of distraction over there. After the first volley, more shots continued from that direction, but they were spaced out now.
More than likely, Audie and Nighthawk had placed rifles and pistols in various places, and Audie had rigged a line so he could fire all of them at once, making it seem like a much larger force was attacking the compound.
Then he could dash from one weapon to the next, reload, and fire again to maintain the illusion. It probably wouldn’t take Ozark’s men long to figure out what was going on, but outlaws generally weren’t the brightest hombres, so Preacher and Nighthawk had a little time to work with.
Or so Preacher hoped, anyway.
The two friends dashed toward the warehouse, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. However, those shadows were thinning as the eastern sky grew lighter, so the guard posted at the warehouse door spotted them and opened his mouth to yell an alarm as he jerked his rifle to his shoulder.
Preacher acted so swiftly the guard never got the chance to warn any of his compatriots. The mountain man’s arm flashed back and then forward while he was on the run. Despite that, the throw was perfect, and the tomahawk struck the outlaw in the forehead, cleaving through his skull and into his brain, killing him instantly.
The dead man’s knees buckled, and his finger involuntarily jerked the trigger in its final spasm. The rifle blasted, but the barrel had already dropped so the ball dug harmlessly into the ground in front of him.
So much shooting was going on in the compound that one more report seemed to go unnoticed as the guard fell forward on his face.
The warehouse had large double doors so wagons could be driven inside and unloaded. They weren’t locked but had a simple bar across them holding them closed. Nighthawk lifted it loose and tossed it aside, then grabbed one of the big doors and pulled it open.
Preacher bent just long enough to yank his tomahawk from the dead guard’s head and rushed inside. The shadows were still thick in the building’s interior, but he made out an area to one side that had been partitioned off and had a door leading into it.
From the depth of the shadows in that direction, muzzle flame bloomed like a crimson flower. Ozark had put a guard in the room where Annie Collins was locked up. The fella had rushed his shot, though, and the ball hummed past Preacher’s ear.
Preacher dashed toward him. The man gave up trying to reload his rifle and used it instead to block the tomahawk Preacher swung at his head.
By thrusting the rifle upward with both hands, the guard left his midsection open. Preacher kicked him in the belly. The man gasped and took a step back. Preacher tried to close in, but he had to duck as the guard made a sideways swipe at his head with the rifle butt.
While he was bent over, Preacher slashed the tomahawk at the man’s knee. Bone crunched under the blow. The man screamed and started to fall as Preacher straightened from his crouch. The mountain man struck upward at an angle, and the tomahawk caught the guard in the throat.
Blood spurted hotly over the back of Preacher’s hand as the weapon opened a gaping wound in the guard’s throat. Gurgling grotesquely, the man collapsed. Preacher stepped back to avoid as much of the crimson flood as he could.
The door into the smaller chamber had an actual lock on it instead of a simple latch or bar. Mack Ozark might be the only one with a key.
Nighthawk didn’t bother with a key. He stepped over the guard Preacher had killed and rammed his shoulder against the door. With a crunching and splintering of wood, the frame gave way, and the door popped open.
“Come on, Mrs. Collins,” Preacher said. He held out his left hand since it wasn’t covered in blood. “We’re gettin’ out of here.”
For a heartbeat, there was no response. Then Preacher saw a pale shape that resolved into Annie Collins’s face as she stepped forward into the dim light.
“You’re alive,” she murmured.
“Yes’m.”
“Ozark didn’t kill you.”
“Not yet, but I expect he’ll get around to tryin’ again mighty soon, especially if we don’t light a shuck outta here.”
She hesitated, but only for a second, before taking his hand. Nighthawk headed for the door and Preacher was right behind him, grasping Annie’s hand to make sure she kept up.
A man appeared in the doorway just before Nighthawk reached the opening. He started to let out a yell, but Nighthawk grabbed him under the arms and jerked him off his feet. The giant Crow stepped outside and flung the man away from him.
Yelling and waving his arms and kicking his legs, the outlaw flew through the air and crashed into several other men who were running toward the warehouse.
Preacher wasn’t sure how they were going to get through the gates in the stockade wall. As Nighthawk turned and loped toward the corner of the warehouse, Preacher realized going out the gates wasn’t the escape route Audie and Nighthawk had planned. He tugged Annie with him and broke into a run following the big warrior.
They rounded the corner and headed for the wall at the back of the compound. Behind them, the shooting was dying away, but confused, angry shouts rose to fill the air in its place. The members of Ozark’s gang were figuring out that somebody was trying to help the prisoners escape.
The eastern sky continued to grow brighter. In the increasing light, Preacher spotted a rope hanging over the wall. Nighthawk must have gotten into the compound that way and left the rope there for their escape. Preacher wasn’t sure Annie would be able to climb it, though.
He didn’t have to worry about that. As they reached the wall, Nighthawk turned to Annie and scooped her up without wasting any time on explanations. She cried out in surprise as he draped her over his left shoulder and clamped that arm around her.
Then he grabbed the rope with his other hand and began walking up the wall, winding the rope around his wrist as he ascended.
When he reached the top, he slung a leg over the wall between two of the sharpened logs, balanced himself, and lowered Annie on the outside. The rope dropped back down to Preacher, who grabbed it and began pulling himself up. Nighthawk disappeared over the wall.
Boot soles slapped the ground as men ran around the warehouse. A voice Preacher recognized as belonging to Mack Ozark bellowed, “There he is! Shoot him! Kill him, you fools!”
The mountain man smiled to himself as he neared the top of the wall. It sounded as if Ozark no longer cared about keeping him alive until he’d found the babies.
Guns began to boom again. Rifle balls thudded into the logs around Preacher, some of them close enough to chew splinters that stung his bare torso as they sprayed in the air. He was close enough to the top to throw a leg over, grab a couple of the sharpened ends, and hold himself away from them as he rolled over the wall.
Suddenly empty air was under him. He dropped straight down and landed on his feet, flexing his knees to take the strain of his weight. He had to take a quick step forward to maintain his balance.
A huge hand gripped his arm to steady him. Preacher glanced over to see Nighthawk standing there. Beyond him was Annie Collins, looking disheveled and confused and frightened, but clearly unharmed.
Preacher straightened, nodded his thanks to Nighthawk, and said, “We’d better get out of here while the gettin’s good.”
More shouts rose inside the compound.
“They’ll be on our trail before long,” Preacher added.
Nighthawk nodded and loped into the trees. Preacher grasped Annie’s arm again and asked, “Can you keep up?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Just take me to my children!”
“You’ll be back with ’em before you know it,” Preacher said, and hoped that was true. “But if you’re havin’ any trouble, let me know. Nighthawk can carry you.”
“That’s his name? Nighthawk?”
“Yep. He’s strong as an ox, and your weight wouldn’t slow him down none.”
“I can make it,” Annie said determinedly.
By now they were hurrying through the trees a few yards behind Nighthawk. The gloom was thick under the branches and would be even after the sun came up, but Preacher didn’t have any trouble following the big Crow.
From time to time, Nighthawk paused to hold some of the undergrowth back out of the way so Preacher and Annie would have an easier path. They made good time with him breaking trail like that. Ozark’s compound fell behind them.
But Preacher knew there would be pursuit coming after them. After all the trouble Mack Ozark had gone to recover those infants, he wouldn’t give up easily. Preacher might not know yet why they were so important to Ozark, but the man wanted them and would stop at nothing to get his hands on them.
In the end, the only way to prevent Ozark from doing that might be to kill him.
That seemed like a perfectly reasonable enough solution to Preacher, and he’d be glad to take care of it as soon as he got the chance.
CHAPTER 17
The fugitives reached the back of the ridge on which Mack Ozark’s compound was located. The terrain sloped up, climbing in a series of steep but not impassible ridges to the thickly wooded mountainsides looming above them.
Preacher glanced back as they started up. It was light enough now for him to see the compound below them. Men were still moving around down there, but he was confident that pursuers were already after him and his companions. The trees and brush hid that pursuit.
He could see beyond the compound to the creek that flowed past it, and on the other side of the stream were the woods where Audie had staged his distraction. They were putting distance between themselves and the little man with each step they took, and that bothered Preacher. He had plenty of confidence in Audie’s ability to take care of himself, but he didn’t like the idea of Ozark getting his murderous hands on the former professor.
Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Audie was mighty clever when it came to dodging folks who were hunting for him.
Annie had begun to breathe harder. Pulling herself up the slope using bushes and small trees for handholds was difficult work for her. Preacher grasped her arm to steady her and assist her in climbing.
He was starting to feel the effort himself. Normally he would scramble up a slope like this without any trouble, but he had endured quite a bit of punishment in the past twelve hours.
Not only that, but the brush clawed at his bare torso as he pushed through it, leaving long, blood-seeping scratches in his flesh.
Annie’s dress was getting ripped, as well, and Preacher was sure she was bleeding from scratches, too. But she didn’t complain and kept going as best she could.
“Thank you,” she said after he helped her over a particularly rugged stretch. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“No, but I reckon Audie and Nighthawk had a good plan,” he assured her. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Who is Audie?”
“Another friend o’ mine. Smartest fella I know, too. He used to be a professor.” Preacher grinned. “With you likin’ books the way you do, I reckon you and him will get along just fine. He can recite whole plays by that Shakespeare fella, and some o’ them ancient Greeks and Romans, too.”
“He sounds like an interesting man.”
“Oh, you don’t know how interestin’.”
Preacher chuckled, looking forward to Annie meeting up with Audie. She was in for a surprise, but he hoped it would be a good one.
Ahead of them and farther up the slope, Nighthawk paused. Preacher could tell from the way the Crow warrior cocked his head that Nighthawk was listening to something. Preacher put his keen hearing to work, as well, and picked up the same thing Nighthawk had heard.
Far back down the slope, men called to each other. Ozark’s men were searching for them, and if any among the outlaws were good trackers, they wouldn’t have much trouble following the trail. It was impossible to struggle through thick brush without leaving signs.
The pursuit wasn’t close yet, however, so after a moment Nighthawk grunted and moved on. Preacher and Annie followed.
A few minutes later, Preacher heard a sharp yip, and then a shaggy gray head poked through some nearby bushes. Annie stopped short and gasped in fear.
“A wolf!”
“Nope,” Preacher assured her as he stepped between her and the big cur. He was accustomed to that reaction from people when they first laid eyes on his trail partner “That’s Dog. He’s a good friend.”
The fierce-looking creature proved that by rearing up, placing his paws on Preacher’s shoulders, and eagerly licking the mountain man’s face. Preacher laughed, dug his hands into the thick fur around the big cur’s neck, and roughhoused playfully with him for a moment. Dog’s tail swept back and forth, wagging enthusiastically.
After a few moments, Preacher told Dog to get down and brought him over to Annie, who still looked frightened but tried to control it.
Preacher performed the introductions. “Dog, this here is Annie. She’s a friend. Understand? Friend. She’s the ma of Apollo and Artemis.” He glanced at Annie. “Probably best to stick to those names with him, since that’s what he knows ’em by.”
“That … that’s fine,” she said.
“But we’ll call ’em by their right names sometimes, too, and he’ll get used to it.”
“Is he trustworthy around them?”
“Ma’am, he’d protect them young’uns like they was his own pups.”
She mustered up a smile and said, “Then I’m glad to be his friend. Is it all right if I … if I pet him?”
“Just hold your hand out first and let him get a good sniff of it.”
Annie did so, and while Dog was familiarizing himself with her scent, Preacher repeated that she was a friend.
“You can go ahead and pet him now,” he told her.
Annie stroked Dog’s head and rubbed his ears. He licked her hand. Annie smiled.
“He’s really rather nice, despite being so fearsome looking, isn’t he?” she said.
“He’s a pretty good ol’ boy,” Preacher agreed. “Now that you two are friends, we’d best get movin’ again. We don’t want to give Ozark’s bunch too much of a chance to catch up to us.”
A shudder went through Annie. “We certainly don’t. Now that I’m away from him, I can’t believe I was willing to just stay there and wait for him to do whatever he was going to do. I suppose I was just too beaten down to oppose him.”
“Folks can get that way after a bad spell,” Preacher said as they began making their way up the slope again. “It ain’t anything to worry about.”
“I can’t imagine you ever giving in to such feelings, though.”
Preacher laughed. “I’ve always done my best to keep busy. When you’ve got plenty of things to do and just keep on a-goin’ straight ahead, it ain’t quite as hard to get through the bad times.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
A short time later, they reached the crest of the first ridge. Preacher felt a surge of relief go through him when he saw who was waiting there for them.
“How’d you manage to get so far ahead of us, you little varmint?” he asked Audie.
The former professor grinned and said, “In some ways, my small stature is an advantage, as I’ve pointed out many times. I can pass through openings in the brush that you and Nighthawk can’t. And believe me, I put that ability to good use, especially when I know there’s a gang of killers on my trail.”
They paused to talk for a moment, which gave Annie a chance to rest again.
“How’d you manage to make it sound like there was a small army over yonder across the creek?” Preacher asked. “I figure you rigged all the rifles and pistols to fire at once.”
“That’s exactly what I did,” Audie said. “Then I reloaded and fired each of them again. Did it work? Were Ozark’s men fooled?”
“For a few minutes, and that’s all the time we needed.”
“I’ll admit, I was very glad to see you—and to meet this lady.”
Audie stepped over to Annie, who appeared to be trying not to stare rudely at him. He took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. He didn’t have to bow to do that, but he made the gesture seem quite courtly and gallant, anyway.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Collins,” he said. “Our young Salish friend speaks highly of you.”
“Little Bear is all right?” Annie asked.
“He’s fine.” Audie pointed up at the next ridge. “He’s waiting for us up there with the horses. And Edward and Elizabeth, of course. We arranged a rendezvous with him, and he proceeded to the spot during the night, taking the children with him for their safety. His familiarity with this region is a very good thing.”
Annie nodded. “He’s such a smart, sweet boy. I’m sorry that he’s risking his life working against Mack Ozark, too, but I’m certainly glad to have his help.”
Nighthawk grunted, and Audie said, “Absolutely correct, my friend. We need to get moving again. Are you up to climbing some more, Mrs. Collins?”
“I’ll climb all the way to heaven if necessary to get back to my children,” Annie said.
Sunlight washed over the landscape as the fiery orb rose higher in the sky. The temperature climbed, as well, but a hint of coolness remained in the air, making it easier for the fugitives to climb to the top of the next ridge.
By the time they reached that crest, the outlaws’ compound was far below them. When Preacher looked back down there, the men he spotted moving around looked almost like ants.
They hadn’t caught sight of the pursuers, so Preacher figured it was unlikely Ozark’s men had spotted them. From time to time, they heard a faint shout. The outlaws were still searching for them. They were probably so afraid of Ozark that they would be reluctant to give up.
