Jory Sherman: Blood Sky at Morning

Scofield came up, panting for breath. He looked at the dead men in disbelief.

“Colonel Cody, sir, I never saw anything like it.”

“Like what?”

“Like the shooting you did. I had a bird’s eye view and saw those three men buck up against you. I thought sure you were a goner.”

Zak said nothing as he holstered his pistol, then lifted it slightly to keep it loose.

“I mean, how do you do that, sir?” Scofield said.

“What?”

“Go up against three gunmen and come out without nary a scratch? I couldn’t see your hand real well, but I know it was empty when that fat one went for his gun.”

“It’s real simple, Corporal. I knew what he was going to do. He didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“That simple?”

“Almost. Near enough.”

“Yes, sir. Mighty fine shooting, though.”

“Scofield, these men are dead. They didn’t have to die. I gave them a choice. They picked the wrong one. I regret that I had to kill them. I feel sorry for the lives they gave up.”

“Well, they were trying to kill you, sir.”

“Yes, they were. But I walked into their world. I was the intruder, not they. Makes you wonder.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“Just what keeps the world in balance. A man swats at a bug, kills it with the palm of his hand. Another cuts off a snake’s head, while another shoots quail out of the sky. Who keeps track of such small things? And what does it mean when the final count is tallied? Nothing? Or everything?”

“I don’t follow you, sir.”

“No need, Scofield. I just hate to take a life. It leaves an empty hole in the life of someone who’s still living. And maybe it leaves a little hole in my life, too.”

“Aw, you can’t go worrying about trash like these, sir. They was rawboned killers. Probably got more blood on their hands than you got on your hankie when you was a nose-bleedin’ kid.”

“Let’s go, Scofield,” Zak said. “Rivers will bring your horse and Miss O’Hara to the high end of that hill, and we’ll get on the trail of Trask and Ferguson. You want to ride double?”

“I’ll walk, sir, if it’s all the same to you.”

Scofield looked at the dead men again and shook his head as if he were still trying to figure it all out. The buzzards flapped, and three more landed some fifty yards away. They were ringed by the scavengers now and there were more still floating in the sky, their circles getting smaller as they slowly descended toward earth.

The smell of death lingered in Zak’s nostrils a long time that day. He was glad that Colleen didn’t say anything about what he’d done, although he’d bet a day’s pay that Rivers told her all about it, no doubt in exaggerated terms.

“I’m sorry,” she said that night when they stopped by a dry wash to rest the horses and stretch their legs.

“About what?”

“About what you had to do today. I know it was necessary.”

“It wasn’t necessary, Colleen. It was brutal and cruel and heartless.”

“But—”

“No, that’s what it was. I’m glad you weren’t around to see it.”

“You’re awful hard on yourself, Zak.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. She moved in closer to him and he could smell her scent, her soft womanly scent, like lilacs and mint growing under a cistern. Fresh and sweet. He wanted to kiss her, but Scofield and Rivers were watching them. This was not the time.

He wondered when that time would be.

Chapter 24

Delbert Scofield finished smoking his cigarette, crushed it to bits between two fingers, scattered the remains on the ground. Then he scuffed up the dirt with his boot heels until there was no trace of tobacco or paper.

Hugo Rivers cleared his throat.

“When you aim to talk to Colonel Cody, Del?” he said.

Scofield looked over to where Colleen and Zak still stood.

“Directly. Soon as he gets finished sparking that schoolmarm.”

“It just don’t seem like he knows what for.”

“He knows something, that’s for sure.”

“Look, we ain’t follerin’ the old stage road no more. We brung along all them horses what are slowin’ us down. It don’t seem like he’s in no hurry to catch up with those outlaws we’re supposed to be chasin’.”

“I know. I wondered about that myself. And him goin’ off by hisself ever’ so often, ridin’ up to the top of a hill and flashin’ that little mirror.”

“I ast him about that. He says it’s a army heliograph,” Rivers said.

“A what?”

“A heliograph. It’s got a little cross cut into it, so’s he can sight the sun and make it bounce off. Says the Injuns call it a ‘talkin’ glass.’ ’Spose he’s talkin’ to the Apaches?”

“I don’t know what the hell he’s doin’, Hugo. This is gettin’ to look more and more like a wild goose chase.”

“Well, go ahead and ast him. We got a right to know. We’re low on grub. He ain’t said nothin’ about beddin’ down. He keeps lookin’ at that sky gettin’ blacker and blacker. We could get caught in a gully washer before mornin’.”

“All right. Quit your bellyachin’. I’ll ask him.”

The horses, those that had belonged to Chama, Carmen, Julio, Manuel, and Renaldo, were all roped together, standing disconsolately a few feet away, their rumps to the north, as the sun died in the west below an ashen sky turning darker by the moment.

Bull bats knifed the air, scooping up insects, and a chill seemed to rise from the land as the shadows softened and melted together. An eerie stillness settled over the rocks and plants, the low hills.

“Time to mount up,” Zak called over to Scofield and Rivers.

“Before we do, Colonel, sir, I got some questions, if that’s all right.”

“I have some questions of my own,” Colleen said. “When you’re finished asking, of course, Delbert.”

“Yes’m.”

“Corporal,” Zak said.

“Yes, sir, well, sir, I just wanted to know why we’re not trackin’ them men. You left the old stage road, and they could be anywhere. Ain’t nary a track out here in this open wilderness.”

“I know where Trask and Ferguson are going, Scofield. I expect Miss O’Hara knows, too, don’t you, Colleen?”

“Well, I know my brother makes maps. He wrote me what he was doing. He said he was marking where the Apache strongholds were, but only he can read the maps. He is probably guiding those men to one of the Apache camps, though. But I can’t imagine that Ted would betray the Apaches he’s made friends with. He…well, he said he respects them.”

“I’m counting on that,” Zak said.

“What about all that mirror flashing?” Scofield said. “You bringin’ the Apaches down on us, maybe?”

Zak smiled. It was growing darker, but he could still see everyone’s face, and they could see his.

“Tom Jeffords now knows we’re coming. He’ll tell Cochise, and we might be able to count on some Chiricahua help when we meet up with Trask and his bunch.”

“Likely, the Apaches won’t know the difference and wipe us all out,” Rivers said.

“Shut up, Hugo,” Scofield said. “I ain’t finished with my questions yet.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts.

“Go on, Scofield,” Zak said.

“Well, we got them horses what belonged to the people you killed, and they’re slowin’ us down. And we’re about out of grub. We only brought enough to last us three until we got to Tucson.”

“You’ll find food in the saddlebags of those horses we brought along,” Zak said. “And I have some in my own saddlebags. The horses are carrying bedrolls, water, rifles, and ammunition. They’ll come in handy when we run into Trask. We’re a few sleeps away from that, however.”