Amazon Deals

Friday, September 6, 2013

Sheriff No More Chapter 4 - Baked!

Chapter 4 – Baked!

The sun made the trek brutal and unbearable. John’s stead collapsed to the ground, exhausted and parched.  John found himself without the energy or strength to move or even aid the horse at the moment.  He laid there as the sun’s intense rays beamed.

Waves of heat dance across the ground before him as shadows waltzed their way back and forth. A familiar shadow emerged and approached him.  Williams’ tiny figure reached out to him as John exhaled his name.

“Daddy, come find me Daddy!”

“I’m here son, don’t you worry any,” John said.

“Daddy, I’m a big boy now!  I’m gonna be just like you.”

“William…”

“He’s our boy now, Sheriff!” The Beverly Brothers yelled out as they circled John’s scorched body. The dust the horses were kicking up filled the air and the images of William and the Beverly Brothers faded away. 

“Will…” John said as darkness encompassed his vision.

From time to time he could hear the sounds of chants and caught the familiar scent of smoke, but his parched body refused to move.  The only light he could make out was that of a fire burning nearby. The faces of people surrounding him remained blurred, but the voices and chants, were all too familiar. 

Indians.

Comanche Indians to be exact.  They were said to pillage and destroy anything that crossed their paths kidnapping women and children while scalping the men and painting their faces with the blood that was shed. John knew that wasn't true. 

As he faded in and out of consciousness, John remembered the first time he discovered the Comanche. One of the local farmers’ calves had gotten loose and wandered off. The farmer had asked John if he could her bring back home.  John had scoured the woods and the surrounding areas of the town but never found the calf.  As he ventured into the northern woods a stirring grasped his attention.   Standing in the woods were women and children covered in snow.  John could see the looks on their faces and knew they were starving. Lying almost lifeless on the ground was Lone Wolf. 

John approached them with concern, he knew they were in need of help and didn't have anyone at the moment.  The women moved back as he drew closer, unsure of his intentions.  He dismounted his horse and rushed to Lone Wolf’s side.  He placed his hand under Lone Wolf’s nose feeling for breath, it was faint but he was breathing.  He pointed to the ladies and then to the trees motioning to bring branches as he cleared a hole in the snow until he found ground. As they brought him sticks he quickly prepared a fire.  First a small fire and then bigger and bigger until it was enough to warm them all up. 

They murmured amongst themselves as he finished with the fire.  He mounted his steed and rode over the hill rapidly towards his land.  As he approached he could see his wife out throwing food for the hens and holding her belly with their unborn child.  She turned and watched him ride up, a look of concern filled his face and she could read it. He explained to her what had happened and that he was taking two of their cows to help get the Comanche through the winter.

The cattle and some corn they shared with the Comanche helped save Lone Wolf’s life and the few that stayed with him through that winter.  John did a good job of not letting the town folks know about the Comanche that stayed there and as soon as they could move on, they did. 

John never expected to see them again, yet he was in a teepee, unsure if it was Lone Wolf or some other tribe helping him move on past this life, but the chanting was familiar. 

Everytime he woke, someone was there to offer him a drink.  The smoke from the fire clouded the teepee making it impossible to see who surrounded him, but he had gained the strength to speak.

“Where am…” He muttered.

A voice spoke through the smoke. “You must rest.  Your strength will come back.”

“Who’s that?”

“Lone Wolf take care of Sherriff as Sherriff took care of Lone Wolf.”

                                                                   * * * * *

Days passed while John gathered his strength.  The brutal desert took all it could from him, his body was baked and as the sun continued to beam down on him it took what little strength him and the horse had to go any further.

As John finished getting his cloths back on in the teepee he could hear gun shots outside. The tribe could be heard scrambling and defending their land and people.  John quickly ran out to find two of the Beverly Brothers gang riding around shooting and screaming about old Tom’s horse.  They didn’t see John as he grabbed his gun and ran out to aid his friends.

John watched Joe Bob ride into the center of the camp racing to unstrap the horse.  He lifted his head as John approached him.  Joe Bob trembled as he stared John down and scrambled for his gun. 

“Sherriff, wait.” Joe Bob screamed.

Without hesitation John pulled the trigger and finished Joe Bob’s reign of terror.  John remembered that Joe Bob had often been seen with his brother.  His name was Jesse, and he was known for his fast draw and horrible shot.

Jesse rushed over to Joe Bob. His limp, lifeless body dangled from the side of his horse as the horse slowly wobbled away from the camp. Jesse peered towards the camp as John walked towards him.

“Wait, you’re supposed to be dead,” Jesse said.

“Maybe I already died.”

“This can’t be!  I saw you! I saw you lay dead in the desert.”

“I won’t die until I get my boy back.” John said as he laid his hand on his gun.  “Now, where’s he at?”

“You don’t have to worry about him, Sherriff. It’s me you have to worry about.”

Jesse quickly drew his gun and fired.  The shot hit a nearby tree and splinters flew in all directions.
Before John could fire back, an arrow flew into Jesse’s arm, forcing him to drop the gun. The Comanche had him surrounded and closed in on him. Jesse screamed and tried to ride through the human barrier, but there was too many of them.

John walked up to Jesse and took the horse by the reigns. “Before you see the end of your life, you will tell me where my boy is, even if it means hanging your hide from a tree by your toes.  You’ll wish you were dead, but you won’t see death until I know where my boy’s at!”

Jesse screamed again as the Comanche drug him off his mount and into a teepee.

1 comment:

Wolfie said...

Awesome can't wait to read more EW..