Chapter 9: Field of Fire

Greta Kendall had brought in her staff from Echo Point, and three days after receiving them, the railroad cars had been completely readied to carry passengers. The eight cars joined the twelve other passenger cars that she already had, and as soon as the engine had arrived at the spur in Cold Lake, the gathering began. Members of the Kendall, Porter and Harwell clans, many members of the Argus, Cort, Osterhous and Mitchell clans as well. There were Ralstons and Wilsons, Warners and Thompsons. All the families who were part of the Kendall clan and those who had been friends before the reaping. Not all their members, but a few families from each at the minimum. Some were content to stay. Some were afraid to go. Some were unwilling, without more idea of where they would be going, to drop everything on Greta Kendall's say so and abandon everything they had except for a small bag of personal items.

Those north of the river arrived with the engine. Many still lived in the are around Cold Lake and Hermiston. It still felt like home to many of them, and the land felt comfortable. The senior Kendalls still kept their home there, and they were the first among many families to find their places.

People joined the train as it moved south along the river. At every stop the private train was met by family members and friends until the train was full. By the time it reached the Celilo railroad bridge, people were doubling up and squeezing together and cushions were being placed in the aisles. A good number of people boarded there, having come from further south on the river. The train switched tracks then and headed back upriver for a while, on the old SP&S Oregon trunk that curved into the Deschutes River valley and headed south through the heart of it.

'We certainly have gone forth and multiplied, ' Greta thought to herself as she moved from car to car trying to head off problems. Food was going to be one of them, one she hoped they would find had been anticipated further up the track.

There were not a lot of Porter kin on the train. Oh, some to be sure. Greg and Hailey Michaels were aboard, and seemed to be glad to be there. Most of these folks were game and willing, but very, very unsure of exactly what was going on and what would be happening. 'Hell, ' she thought, 'I'm not that much more certain than they are.'

Those who boarded at Celilo had brought food with them and it was shared with those who had been aboard most of the morning already. People settled in, kids were encouraged to find quiet games to play, some sang or played instruments. Some read, some slept.

Greta finished her rounds and found her own spot to settle down. She closed her eyes and relaxed, her thoughts on her husband and the future.

-oOo-

The battle at Kent began at dinnertime. Sam and the rest of the Kendall group had eaten early, and half the Cayuse were already patrolling the perimeter. It was Ghost who spotted the first of the Denied scouts trying to sneak into town. As planned, the man's death was not a silent one.

The gunshot signaled to both the Denied churchmen and the Kendall defenders that the battle was on. Owen Misera, in the church steeple spotted the charge, five minutes later. They had been reinforced.

There were thirty men riding hard into town from the north and another twenty coming in from the west with the sun at their back. He didn't have a radio, but Pip was stationed beneath the church. Hand signals communicated the direction and the numbers, and once relayed, Pip was moving towards the west.

There was still plenty of daylight, and there was no problem spotting targets. The western assault found Pip, Sam Porter and Lily joining Dante, Cooper, Huck and Reggie Empereza. To the north, Sam Kendall was joined by Dwight, Jenna, Taegan, Becky and Tom Kendall along with Birdie Gilead.

The first assault saw both groups lay down a line of fire that quickly drove the hard riding attackers past them and into the center of the ghost town. From the north the riders came in on Horseshoe Bend, and from the east they hit on Dobie Point road. Where those two roads intersected was the center of town, and there stood the church in which Owen Misera waited, wielding fifty caliber finality.

The churchmen came riding too hard and fast for those waiting for them to get off more than a few shots, but a few riders dropped as they passed. The return fire was fierce, but poorly aimed. Firing from a horse running full out was not accurate under the best of circumstances, and these were poor circumstances indeed.