Chapter 3

About four hours of napping was enough and I was up just after dusk. Dressing again I went to the kitchen and warmed up a can of Wolf Brand Chile with some more Ranch Style beans. I even broke out a bag of Fritos to go with it.

After I'd eaten I went out and watered a mesquite. I took my binoculars with me but couldn't see shit through them. I went back to the top of the hill and took my time looking around for any sign of light from any direction. There was no light except for stars; the moon wasn't even up yet.

Now I was finally alarmed, because no matter what, I should have been able to see some light from Dallas if it was still there. It wasn't over fifty miles away, and some light would have been showing in the sky over it if nothing else. I was plainly confused about what had happened to me and I figured no good would come of it.

It was time to go back into my trailer and off to bed.

Since I'd gone to bed so early the night before, I had a hard time staying in bed until the sun came up. When I finally did get up I started to take a shower but then decided I'd better not. I had plenty of water in my tank but I didn't know how long it would be before I could get more and I might need that water to drink.

Going outside after I'd fixed a little breakfast, this time I brought out a lawn chair. I sat in it and admired the peace and quiet while I went through a pot of coffee.

Later, a trip to the top of the hill finally showed me something. Over a mile and a half away I could make out two people on horseback and one of them was leading a horse with something tied on across its back.

They were headed generally in my direction and my first thought was that I might finally find out something. My next thought was about the way I was skylining myself on the top of the hill and that I might ought to quit it.

Because I couldn't see them all that well with the binoculars from this distance, I walked back down to my trailer and went inside. Pulling back the rug, I took out the Barrett. Its scope was a hell of a lot better than my glasses.

Outside again, I rested the Barrett over a handy mesquite branch and took another look at the riders.

It don't matter how early you get up in the morning, if it's going to be a bad day it's going to be a bad day. The riders were fairly dark skinned and had long black hair. They were naked or damned nearly so and they didn't have proper saddles or bridles on their mounts, just a sort of pad to sit on and some twine or leather tied around the horses heads.

That wouldn't have been so bad but as they got closer I could tell that they had what surely looked like a couple of scalps hanging from thongs around their waist. Right about then I started cussing myself for going to the trouble of fetching my Barrett to use its scope and not bothering with any ammunition for the damned thing.

Of course I had my web belt and Glock on but I'd have felt a lot better with a few cartridges for the rifle. I'd only made a halfhearted stab at sighting it in when I bought it, but damn, it would have been better than the Glock.

There was no way to know exactly what they saw that let them know someone was in the little copse of trees, it might have been motion or even a reflection off my rifle or scope lens. They saw something though because the one leading the packhorse dropped the lead and then they both strung their bows, knocked arrows, and kicked their horses into a lope, howling like banshees, the both of them.

It seemed I wasn't going to get to talk to them friendly like, so I leaned the Barrett against a tree, pulled out the Glock, and released the safety.

I'm a damned good shot if I do say so myself. I relaxed into my stance and let them come on. The Glock didn't signify to them I guess, because they didn't even slow down. I popped the first one when he got within eighty yards and did for the other at about seventy. I hit both of them right on the breast bone, exactly where I'd been aiming, and those hollow points really put a kink in their day, their last day at that.

When they fell off, the two horses just kinda slowed to a stop, and after they realized they weren't going to be remounted they dropped their heads and started cropping grass. The packhorse was doing the same, back where the wild assed Indians had dropped his lead.

Of course my behavior would have been frowned upon back in my hometown, but right now I was pretty sure that no one would mention it even if they did find out. I was sure that any Indians riding around in loin cloths with fresh scalps tied to their waist would have a hard time of their own justifying their actions to the proper authorities.

Holstering my Glock, I walked out to see if I could catch up the horses. It wasn't any trouble at all; as soon as they noticed what I was doing they stood still and waited for me.

Tying one to a branch and mounting the other, I rode out for the packhorse. That one cooperated too and it was no trouble to take hold of its lead and guide it back up to the trees. I ended up tying them all on a long rope that I fished out of the back of my pickup. They had plenty of slack to graze that way.

After unloading the packhorse, I left the blankets on the other two while I fished a shovel out of my truck and dug a hole to cover up my two dead attackers. I wasn't trying to give them a decent burial because I didn't give a shit about them. I just didn't want them laying out to draw a bunch of buzzards. That would be a sign saying something fishy went on here and it would be visible for miles.

It looked like five scalps hanging from thongs around their waists. I'm not sure but I figured it was two adults and three children. It didn't make me feel any worse about shooting the noble savages.

After I had the two laid to rest I looked through the crap I took off their packhorse. It was only some dried food, a few hand tools and two dresses, homemade ones I thought. They didn't get much from their raid, wherever it had been.

They didn't have much in the way of horses either. The biggest one, the one I'd ridden a short way, could carry me all right, but not nearly as far as he could have carried that Indian. I estimated that I outweighed the biggest one by forty or fifty pounds.

Dragging out my saddle and bridle, I tried them on him. I had to use both the Indian blankets and my regular saddle pad to make a decent fit on the skinny thing. I'd have to be careful not to do anything fancy while I was aboard or my saddle would probably slip around and dump my ass off. Still, it was some transportation and I had to go somewhere or other, sooner or later.