The Time Rippers Book 2: Gettysburg by Pete Bertino - HTML preview

CHAPTER 7 BILLY RIDES AGAIN

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Date: July 14th, 1881 Universe: 4

Henry “Billy The Kid” McCarty felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, a figure stood in the darkness. He felt the a question nearly escape his lips when a bright green flash and a loud whooshing sound shook the little hut, he and the dark figure stood in. The green flash lasted long enough for Billy to see a revolver in the figures hand pointed at him(Pat Garret, he would find out

later.) and quickly run while whatever was

happening distracted him.

He leapt from the porch and saw two men, with

heavy dusters and hats with pistols raised looking up at the flashes of green lightning that appeared to be striking down south of Fort Sumner, standing a few feet away. Billy looked upon the sky, then saw the two other lawmen, what else could they be,

still not seeing him.

Twenty feet away three horse stood whining

restlessly at the whooshing sound which was still blowing bringing up sand and grit in blinding

brown clouds. It was while he reached the horses that the first shot rang out, it didn’t appear to be close but Billy quickly took a knife from his empty gun belt and cut the reins off a horse which looked to him to be the calmest, and hopefully the least temperamental.

The wind sounded like it was slowly winding

down, but enough dust and dirt had prevented any of the three men from getting a good shot on Billy the Kid. Pat Garrett stood watching the hazy

outline of the young gunslinger through the brown clouds of grit and despite all the noise and crying of the two remaining horses, he could still hear the kids laugh.

The Kid rode for the rest of the night and stopped just after sunrise, the lightning or whatever it was had stopped not long after the wind stopped

blowing. He had found a canteen nearly filled with water and some jerky strips and half a biscuit no weapons though. The horse didn’t seem to care it was robbed.

He rummaged in his pocket for the letter from his friend Miguel.

“Shit.”

His pockets were empty, he had lost the letter from his friend promising sanctuary in the town of El Tiempo. He knew the route to the town, but was

worried who ever was after him might find it and locate him.

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Billy dismounted the horse and climbed a rocky

embankment that rose seven or eight feet to survey the area ahead. It was wide open and no one was around for miles he could see all the way to Taos Peak mountain range hundreds of miles away. He

had initially headed north, away from the green lightning and into the darkness of the night. After an hour he traveled west before heading south again towards old Mexico and El Tiempo.

Everything since his narrow escape last night seemed surreal, green lightning aside. The sun rising in front of him as he rode made his heart jump. The sky seemed impossibly blue and bright, he felt his eyes begin to water every time he

looked up to it.

Perhaps they are tears of relief at escaping the closest call yet, he wondered.

“Maybe.” Billy said to himself.

He had felt a better but it was limited, unless he could reach Mexico he was the walking dead.

Rumor was he had killed twenty one men. Though

it was more like nine from Billy’s count. That

goddamn James Dolan had killed more than twice

that number.

Billy took a short uneasy nap under a rock shelf , but paranoia from snakes and the law kept him on a hair trigger. When the hottest part of the day was

passed, he left the rock shelf and climbed to the top of the embankment again to look around, it was

empty except for the occasional hawk and

tumbleweed.

With a sip of water he remounted the stolen horse and continued south for the next twelve hours. He had ridden until well after sunset and water nearly gone. His horse was showing exhaustion, he could find shelter, but the thought of the bounty on his head kept him from stopping.

When noon hit the following day he had begun to dose off for a few seconds before nearly falling off the horse. He kept his head down away from the

harsh sun light, he had been riding nonstop and was feeling weary and saddle sore.

He got off the horse and climbed upon a large jagged rock, that was amazingly huge in such an empty terrain, to see if anybody was around.The

horse searched for water to drink while Billy

surveyed the area on top of the mammoth rock. It was wide open for miles and no one was in sight almost identical to what he saw yesterday.

If he was heading in the right direction he would soon see the Pecos River and would have to cross it if he wanted to continue south.

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He took a deep breath and climbed down the

irregular shaped boulder back to his horse. He

poured a some water into a cupped hand for the

horse to lick.

When the sun began to set Billy came upon some

cacti and was able to help slate his ever increasing thirst thanks to his knife. It was something Tom O’Folliard, had shown him back when he was still working for Tunstall.

Billy had a brother, Joe Antrim, but they hadn’t seen each other in some years. Tom had been like brother to him, it still hurt Billy deeply that Tom was dead. Billy felt sadness fill him deeply as he

looked up and around at his surroundings. He missed Tom, and the Coe cousin’s who never

failed to make Billy laugh.

Billy stopped thinking of his friends both living and dead for the moment, he was still miles and miles from old Mexico and cacti wouldn’t keep he and his horse from dying of thirst. So with a

wearily back he remounted his horse.

He rode on until passed night fall, following the blue light of the waxing moon. He didn’t think, just rode. He wanted to whistle to keep his spirits up but his lips were too dry, so he listened to the hooves of his horse clop with an occasional baying of a wolf or coyote. He stopped late into the night and slept under a derelict wagon partly submerged in sand.

It was a the day after he crossed the Pecos river when he nearly died again. Had filled his canteen to the top and sipped sparingly. He passed a rocky embankment and decided to l climb on top to have a look while he took a sip of water. He stepped on a loose rock that looked firmly in place and

dropped it upon a jag tearing its side open and spilling all of its contents to the ground below.

“Shit.” Billy said quietly as he saw the sun

greedily evaporate his water.

He had gone too far to risk double backing, but the trip to El Tiempo might still be longer. He climbed upon the rock and looked south and north. Both

were considerable distances of empty space. He

decided to continue south and lucked into finding some more cacti to liberate water from.

It was very little, but would have to do. He

remounted his weary steed and journeyed south

again. It was a long and hot day that dragged on for hours, Billy was so tired and thirsty he forgot to tie the horse down. He woke up around mid morning

and found it had run off for

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places unknown. He pushed his sweaty mop of hair from his forehead and placed his hat back on.

He walked south following the tips of his boots after an hour when the sun became too punishing.

He was afraid he would die out here in the desert instead of on the hangman’s noose. It wasn’t very long before he was tripping over himself and

began falling to the ground.

His mouth had become dry as parchment, a white

crud had formed on the edge of his mouth. He was glare blind and taking longer and longer to get up each time he fell. His head was throbbing and he could feel his eyes pulsate with each beat of his

heart.

He wondered how long he could go before he

stopped getting up, over head buzzards circled him in ever lowering circles. None of them had been bold enough to land yet and try to get a peck at him.

Inside his throbbing head he tried to remember the mariachi music he heard in his life.

Mariachi music reminded him of a more festive

version of carnival music, and the lovely young senorita’s who would flock him when he walked

into a dance hall. He tried to smile but the pains of his cracked, chapped lips made him forget the

music. He tried to step over a jagged rock but

tripped and felt to his knees with a puny cracked gasp of pain.

Billy didn’t try and get up, he kneeled and watched as a drop of sweat formed on the tip of his nose and break off. It splashed on the dusty hardpan and

it evaporated almost instantly. He looked on trying to see were it had been but it was gone, forever.

He laid over on his side and closed his eyes. He was in total blackness for some amount of time, when he heard someone talking. Billy opened his eyes and saw Tom O’Folliard who was dead for

over a year now, he was standing just a few feet

away from where Billy lay.

“Shoot, Billy.” Tom said with his goofy grin that Billy always pictured him with. “If you was gonna give up now, why bother runnin at all?”

Billy could only watch his friend, his friend who had died in 1880, but looked alive and well now.

“Maybe if you hold on longer, you can have a

drink.” he said holding up a tall glass filled with clear liquid.

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Billy tried to reach out to his friend for help, but darkness enclosed him again.

Miguel Otero was tending his goats when he saw

Ruiz running towards his adobe. He was only

thirteen and was easily excitable, and very curious.

Miguel smiled at the speed with which the boy ran.

He was running towards the barn before he saw

Miguel and made a B line for him.

“Hola, Ruiz. “ Miguel said casually as Ruiz

doubled over taking in huge breaths.

His face was red and sweaty with each breath his

cheeks blew out like a balloon.

“Did you a see a fantasma or the grande breasts of your abuela?”

Ruiz continued panting and could only shake his head.

“Por que el excitement?” Miguel asked a little

worried?

Ruiz took a deep breath, stood up straight and

pointed north.

“Billy el Nino sentado en abrevadero.”

Seeing the look on Ruiz’s face showed he was

telling the truth. With out another word, Miguel ran towards the horse stable a half mile from his farm which was not so bad if you were strolling in the evening, but was exhausting at this time of day in July, he felt bad for teasing Ruiz about his panting.

Miguel ran for what felt like an hour when he

finally reached the stables of his ancestral land. He had only one horse and a mule but he had room for at least five. He reached the edge of the stables and

slowed down when he heard the laughter of his nephew and another more familiar laugh.

Miguel was shocked despite the fact that Ruiz told him so, Billy the Kid was sitting in the horse

trough fully clothed hatless. His skin was sunburnt and peeling and his lips where almost white with dehydration but Billy was all smiles.

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His nephew, Ceaser who was a little older than

Ruiz, was wearing Billy’s hat at a cock eyed angle.

He had been laughing as well.

“Hola! Billy!”

“Howdy Miguel. Mind if I bunk here for a while? I been wandering in the desert so long I though I’d die of thirst.”

“What happened to your horse, amigo? You didn’t walk from Sumner did you?”

“Just a few miles, until I passed out. Ceaser here found me.” Billy said taking his hat dunking it in water and pouring it over his head before placing

it back on Ceaser’s head.

After Billy told his tale to Miguel, people from town, more women than men Billy noticed, came to welcome him with either an armful of food or

liquor. By that evening Billy had met nearly all the residents of the tiny village, his worries of being chased down by the law or vultures feasting on his remains were a long ago bad dream.

After the impromptu party that had lasted most of the evening, Billy and Miguel sat on his porch in a pair of rocking chars counting up the evening stars.

Miguel had rolled them both a cigarette, but Billy refused it. He had never acquired the taste for it, Miguel shrugged and lit his with a matchstick.

Billy rocked idly as the night sky showed off its clusters of stars and light, in the distance he could hear fire crackers and the closer by lullaby of crickets. Miguels back door opened and out

stepped Isabella . She cooked and cleaned for

Miguel sometimes and was the same age as Billy

and heart achingly beautiful in his opinion.

Billy judged from the way she looked at him, she was not involved personally with Miguel.

She held a ceramic plate that carried various

cookies.

“Dulces, Billy?” she asked with a little gleam in her eye.

Miguel watched with a smile.

“Si, angel hermoso.” Billy said taking a cookie and looking her in the eyes with a smile as sweet as his own.

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“Comportarse, Billy” she said with a slight smile.

“Senor Miguel?”

Miguel nodded and took a cookie, Isabella gave

Billy another smile and went back inside. Miguel chuckled softly.

“Whats got you laughing?” Billy asked though he did know.

“So, I guess finding a way to kill time here wont be easy I reckon.” Billy asked.

“Si. But kill time for what. The Americanos won’t

come after you here.”

“Well I was promised a pardon, if they can’t kill me maybe they’ll just give up and free me.”

“You free now, though Billy. So what if the

Americanos pardon you.”

“A man can’t run his whole life, Miguel. At some point you have to stop running or die trying too.”

Miguel didn’t think Billy was in danger, not here anyway.

“The Americanos would be loco to come around

here Billy.”

Billy nodded but wasn’t so sure. Not when there were guys like James Dolan who were

independently wealthy and as mean as a rattle

snake and did not take no as an answer. Billy just looked out at the beauty of the night grateful he was still alive.

Free from the hail of gunfire and always being on the look out for cartridges. He hoped he would

never have to see blood spilled ever again, but

thinking of Dolan made him wonder if that would ever be possible.

The town was not a very long ride to the border, it was not impossible for Dolan to send some one or maybe even try and pay a local to come after him.

Billy felt the worry wash over him again, if they found Billy’s letter then they knew he had friends in El Tiempo.

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Dolan wouldn’t have to try very hard to find out even without the letter, he had connections all over the New Mexico Territory. Billy would just have to wait and see if Dolan would attempt to come

after him.

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