The Spirit of the West: the Devil on the March
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2008 by aubie56

"Well, Tezcatlipoca, since you are the Aztec god of death and temptation, I think that you may well be just the demi-devil I need to advance my plans in the southwestern USA and in Mexico. Being Mexican, I expect that you would be especially happy to sew trouble among the Gringos."

"Oh, yes, Dread Lord Satan, I welcome this opportunity to do as much as I can to plague the accursed Gringos. What can I do for You?"

"I want to stir up the war between the Indians and the Anglos. Most of the action has died down, and there is not enough suffering on either side. I know that you would naturally favor the Indians, but I don't care which side you favor, I just want as much suffering as possible inflicted on both sides."

"Very well, Dread Lord Satan, I will do as You command. I have just the place in mind to arrange the first massacre in the campaign. I will get started, immediately."

Ezra Bean drove his buckboard up to the front of the adobe building and tied off to the hitching rail. He went inside to greet the girl who worked as a receptionist. "Good morning, Elizabeth. Is there anything scheduled for today that I might have missed?"

"No, Sir, Mr. Bean. Nothing has changed from the schedule I gave you before you left, yesterday. Your first petitioner is already in your office. I gave her a cup of coffee while she was waiting. She has two children with her; she wants you to accept both of them for your school."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I'll go right in. Please bring me a cup of coffee and have someone look after my horse and buckboard out front."

Bean went into his office without waiting for a reply from the girl, whom he knew would carry out his orders exactly as given. In the office, he nodded to the woman seated in front of his desk sipping at a cup of coffee. There were two children with her, a boy and a girl, siblings, ten and seven years old, respectively. "Good morning, Mrs. Goodall. I see that you have the two children with you as described in the folder. I must say that you have done your usual good job in presenting me with all of the facts of the case. I studied the situation yesterday, and I am delighted to tell you that we can accept the two orphans into our school on the usual basis."

There followed a few minutes of small talk while the two adults enjoyed their coffee and the two children sat frozen in place, not sure what would happen to them. Just as Mrs. Goodall finished her coffee, and set her cup down, a great clatter arose outside the closed door of the office. A moment later, Elizabeth burst in with an almost hysterical shout, "MR. BEAN! THE SCHOOL IS UNDER ATTACK BY INDIANS! THEY HAVE THROWN TORCHES THROUGH THE WINDOWS AND ARE SHOOTING ANYONE WHO TRIES TO LEAVE!"

"Please calm down, Elizabeth, you will alarm the children. Mrs. Goodall, excuse me, if you please. It seems that there is some unpleasantness that I must look into. I expect to return momentarily." Bean calmly walked out the door and was immediately met by clouds of smoke. "Jehoshaphat! Elizabeth was right, there is a fire!" Alarmed, he ran down the hall to the place where the smoke seemed to originate. He found flames all about as the rug and wall hangings burned fiercely. A couple of torches were lying on the floor; he ran to them and tried to fling them out the window—the glass was completely broken away.

As Bean leaned out of the window to get rid of the torches, he attracted a fusillade of rifle fire. He fell, fatally wounded, across the window sill with his head hanging outside the building.

A number of men ran toward the burning building with buckets of water. The amount of water they were able to carry was totally inadequate to retard the fire, much less extinguish it. Nevertheless, these men never got close to the burning building because of the rifle fire from the mass of Indians (nation unknown) who were milling about the courtyard on horseback. The men ran back to their barracks to retrieve their guns, but few made it.

Inside the building, panic reigned supreme. Adults and children ran about trying to escape the fire, but there seemed no place to go. Every time someone tried to run outside, that person was met by so many bullets that it was impossible to leave the building. It was as if the Indians intended to burn to death the people inside.

Fire Bringer suddenly felt an almost overpowering wave of fear and panic wash over him, even though he was miles away from the burning building. He located the source of the signal and TPed there to see what was the actual problem that had frightened so many people. He almost recoiled in horror before he could steel himself to look inside the building—so many people were seriously injured by the fire. Fire Bringer reacted immediately by TPing the injured people into his poke where they would be safe until he could spend the necessary time to tend to their burns and other wounds. There were 237 people who had to be saved; he completely ignored those who were already dead. It took him nearly 10 minutes to find and move everybody, and two died before he could reach them. Fire Bringer also picked up those men outside the building who had gunshot wounds, but were not yet dead.

There simply was not enough water around to do a decent job of fighting the fire, so he regretfully just let it burn. Meanwhile, he erected a frozen-air wall around the Indians who had attacked the school/orphanage. He wanted to know what had prompted the raid.

Fire Bringer figured the quickest way to get answers from the Indians, whom he now saw were Comanches, was to impress them with his supernatural powers. He TPed inside the wall of frozen air and spoke to them in their own language while hovering above their heads. Fire Bringer addressed them with fire in his eye and condemnation in his voice. "Why did you attack this peaceful school? These people have never harmed you."

One of the men answered, "Our shaman received an order in a dream. Tezcatlipoca appeared to him and ordered him to organize an attack on the Anglos in this place. Tezcatlipoca said that it would help us to revenge ourselves against all of the harm done to our people over the years. Tezcatlipoca is a powerful god and knows all."

"But Tezcatlipoca is also a trickster, you know that you should not believe everything that he tells you."

"Our shaman believed him, and that was enough for us."

"I will punish you for your evil deeds, today, by transporting you far to the north. You may never see your homes or your families in you lifetime. It is up to you whether or not you survive to return home." Fire Bringer TPed the whole band to Northern Canada. They would probably starve before they could find their way back south. The worst punishment of all was that they would be forced to kill and eat their beloved horses, a horrible fate for a Comanche.

Fire Bringer was much more concerned about saving the injured people that he had stowed in his poke, so he TPed back home and looked up Juanita, his mother-in-law and the superintendent of their orphanage. "Juanita, I have brought you a lot of trouble to deal with. I have stashed in my poke 197 injured people ranging in age from infants to middle-aged adults. Most of the injuries are from burns, but there are some bullet wounds, too. I'm going to call in Shadow to help. I'll bring the people out of the poke one at a time, so we won't be overloaded. Let's do the bullet wounds first, since they will be the easiest to deal with."

Juanita rushed off to get the beds ready while Fire Bringer sent an urgent message to Shadow to come help with the injured. POOF! There she was standing beside Fire Bringer. "What's the problem, Dear? Your message was full of anguish."

"I have 197 victims of a Comanche raid in my poke, mixed burn and bullet wound victims. Juanita and I will need your help to deal with them. At least, they are safe as long as they are in the poke, but we will have to work fast to save some of them once I pull them back to this plane of existence. I thought that the bullet wounds would be the easiest to deal with, so we could start with them."

"OK, that sounds like a good plan. What do you want me to do?"

"I'll put the person in the bed designated by Juanita. I need for you to provide life support, heart beat, breathing, that sort of thing, while I remove the bullet and any debris left by the bullet. I'll repair what damage I can, and we'll just work on a case-by-case basis. I expect that we will be at it for hours."

 
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