The Time Rippers Book 2: Gettysburg by Pete Bertino - HTML preview
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CHAPTER 8 THE WAR OF EL
TIEMPO
Billy waited only a few months before Dolan made such an attempt, it had been mid October when a white man had come into town armed and asking
about Billy. Caesar was trading at the only general store in town when a man dressed in a black duster and hat, with a jagged scar running across his left
eyebrow, rode down the street slowly as he peered into every window he passed.
He had been met with cold indifferent stares but no one spoke up to him. Caesar had come running to the barn were Miguel and Billy and a few other
neighbors were passing a crisp Saturday afternoon in Miguels barn playing poker.
“Billy!Billy! Gran hombre que le pregunta.”
“What did he look like, did you get a name?” asked holding his fan of cards limply.
“Sin el uso negro con la cicatriz.”
Billy looked at the boy slowly.
“Cicatriz ceja izquierda?” Billy said pointing to his eyebrow.
“Si.”
“Shit, I can’t believe they pardoned him.”
“Who?” asked Miguel.
“John Selman. I’d bet my life Dolan sent him, he’s a mean mother fucker.”
The other men looked at him unsure of what he
said.
“Hijto de puta.” he said
They all nodded and chuckled nervously.
“How do you know he pardoned, Billy? Maybe he
come to seek your help.”
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“Cause you can’t chase a bounty with one already on you, and Selman would wouldn’t come to
Miguel couldn’t argue with him. He sometimes got newspapers from New Mexico, the governor Lew
Wallace had doubled the reward for Billy’s head and had recently shown a wanted poster of Billy in The Silver City paper, were everyone was
dragging Billy’s name through the mud.
“We will stand by you Billy.” Miguel said
The other men, just a couple of farmers agreed
vigorous. A middle aged man known as Sabio, who wore a large sombrero stood up and spoke for
the others and said:
“Billy, we will fight with you.”
Billy sent Caesar back to the center of town to see if Selman was around, he returned an hour later but hadn’t seen him.
“Here’s to hoping he left for home.” Miguel said raising a shot of tequila.
“Maybe he’s camping out in the desert, who knows
if anybody said something. Lot a people know I’m here.” Billy said convinced that’s what Selman
was doing.
Miguel and the other men collected firearms and ammo cartridges. They had just a miss matched pair of revolvers and a dozen or so rifles with plenty of ammo. If Dolan wanted a war he would
get one, Billy thought with dismay as he eyed up their weapons.
“Don’t shoot unless they shoot first.”
“Bien.”
It was late that evening when John Selman came
back to town. A lone wolf howled at a wanning
crescent moon as he rode through the center of El Tiempo like the angel of death. The only noise at the late hour was the tiny gin mill sitting off by itself behind the towns other businesses.
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A lonely mariachi singer wailed about a lost
senorita, until Selman passed by. The loud chatter had even died down almost entirely. They were
watching him, they feared him. He heard inklings of rumors that The Kid had sought refuge here no
one here had told him anything.
He wasn’t going to force them to tell him, they didn’t need too. Their adverted gazes and polite abruptness told him he was close, if he wasn’t
these people wouldn’t feel one way or the other about shooting him with his back turned.
They didn’t curse him or threaten him, they were protecting Billy. He left with out threats or
promises of violence and made early camp in the nearby mountains.
When midnight came on his pocket watch, he
mounted his horse and went back into town. He
passed the few other businesses and came to the edge of town where the farms began and started to circle back. He heard windows and a few doors
creak either open or close as he circled again.
As he made a second lap a drunk came stumbling
of the tiny gin mill with a worn sign reading ‘El Vaquero Sed’ He carried a near empty bottle of
Tequila and began heading in the direction
opposite Selman.
“Stop!” Selman called out.
The drunk man froze in mid stride as Selman
quickly got in front of him. He got off his horse, and approached the man who stunk of Tequila and tobacco.
“Don’t fuck with me, muchacho. I know most a you beaners speak English here. I know you do, anyone who don’t know English wouldn’t know stop from
pussy.”
The drunk didn’t speak and only waited for what was to come which was a bullet in the heart if he
was lucky. But instead of being greated by the
steely glean of a Colt he was greeted with the shine of a handful of gold and silver coins.
“You want this you follow me. Comprende?”
The drunk eyed the coins closely but still didn’t speak.
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“Comprende?!” he said giving the drunk a firm
slap on the face.
“Si,Bien! I follow senor!”
He rode back to the center of the town on his horse while the drunk followed by at a stumbling trot.
“Stand there and translate what I say. Hablo alto!
Understand?!”
“Si senor. Loud!”
He rode a few feet away but stayed on his horse, he could still feel their eyes on him, they would hear him and this drunk beaner would make sure
they understood him.
“I have an announcement for the people of this
town.” he spoke loud enough to make a dog far
away start barking.
He looked over as the drunk translated, Selman
was loud but he didn’t know enough Spanish to say what needed to be said.
“I work for an important business man in America.
He was robbed by a man who is hiding here.”
He rode in a small circle around his translator looking at all the windows and doors were
worried eyes strained to see this black rider.
“He answers to many names. William Bonney.
William McCarty, Henry Antrim, Kid Antrim Billy the Kid. The man I work for will pay One thousand US dollars to any man or men who brings Billy
The Kid to me dead or alive.”
The drunk was just finishing the last sentence
before the bounty hunter spoke once more.
“Anyone protecting the fugitive of the US Federal Government will be met with a harsh fate.”
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He tossed the gold and silver to the feet of the drunk who nearly fell over from the abrupt gesture.
The man in black waited for him to finish
translating before riding off into the darkness of the desert.
The drunk spit on the ground where the coins lay, leaving them for the children who wake up early tomorrow. Out of the bar came Sabio, adjusting his sombrero for the winds that began to pick up in the direction Selman had gone.
The old timers would call that an omen, Sabio thought. He approached the drunk and placed a
comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I’m glad he did not shoot you, Gabriel.”
“I thought it was the angel of death, come to take me for my sins, amigo.”
The drunk shook his head miserably and walked
off in a drunken trot back to his original
destination. Sabio watched him disappear behind an outhouse before heading towards Miguel’s
farm. As he crossed the stables he found Billy, Miguel, and Caesar walking out from the last
stable with their rifles raised and lowered them quickly when they saw it was Sabio.
“Is he still here?” Miguel asked.
“No,senor. He wants Billy, one thousand dollars.
Dead or alive, though I’m thinking he’d prefer
dead, Billy. But I’m not afraid of some smelly
gringo with a black hat! I say we go out to the desert Billy and we cut off his head.”
Miguel, and Caesar, still just a boy, looked pale and were sweating profusely despite the cool of the night. Billy though was calm and despite his worry of more bloodshed, was in control thinking of all his options and their outcomes.
“No, we do that and Dolan would cry act of war
and bribe Governor Wallace into letting him send his own army here. We’re only a few miles from
the border.”
Billy scratched at the patches of hair growing on his chin that were still too fine to warrant shaving daily yet. He had only began shaving a few months ago and was still learning, he was still hoping to live long enough so he could perfect it though.
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“Gimme my horse and some water.” Billy said
heading to the stable.
“You gonna go out and face him,Billy?” Miguel
asked.
“El Perdido.”
“Que?”
“El Perdido is a days ride from here. By the time Selman comes back I’ll be in Sonora on...”
“No, Billy you must stay. You said yourself, you were tired of running.” Miguel said walking stride for stride with Billy.
“I know, but I’m tired of the blood soaking into the ground. I’m tired of seeing friends die in a puddle of their own guts and shit.”
“Billy if we die, then we die.”
“Maybe nobody has to die.” Billy said.
“Billy,” Sabio said trying to get in front of Billy as they entered the stable where there was a mare he had won from a neighbor in poker.
He spoke in Spanish to make sure Billy understood him.
“We appreciate your respect for us by saving us from this fight. But we all die someday, and to die
helping a friend fight off foreign invaders. That is a glorious death I would happily submit to senor!”
“Si,” Miguel said when Billy looked towards him.
“Si,” said Caesar said looking a little calmer.
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Billy stopped tying the saddle to his horse, and though of the other options available to him if he stayed.
“So thats how it’s really gonna be then, amigos?
Alright, guess I better come up with an idea. He’s hoping someone will sell me down the river, so
he’s waiting...”
“Cold day in hell, Billy, before...” Miguel spoke up.
“I know, and I think he knows that too, so he may not wait long before he gives up that idea.”
“Then what?” Caesar asked.
“He’ll head back for New Mexico and bring back more men with him if he means business. And
Dolan is the type to see things through to the
bloody end. We’re gonna need a look out until he leaves and for when he comes back.”
“I’ll make sure there are scouts out at all times, Billy.” said Sabio. “And at all points.”
“Si, Billy. He go to war with you. But he go to war with Mexico instead.” Miguel said.
The next night Selman left heading north without going into to town to give them a final warning.
Billy watched the sunrise that morning and
wondered how many more he would see in his
lifetime.
Sabio was as good as his word on keeping scouts on the look out. Others who wanted to help
gathered more weapons and ammo for firearms
where ever they could be found. Two weeks
passed before a lookout came running to Miguels farm.
The was sun was just setting as Miguel and Billy were rounding up a herd of goats and a few sheep,
when the scout, a boy of only twelve, threw himself over the dilapidated fence around Miguels land.
“ELLOS VIENEN!” the boy spoke quickly before
taking a breath.
“Here we go, Miguel.” Billy said.
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They quickly went to Miguels kitchen where inside of his late mothers china hutch held all of the rifles and pistols. Miguel informed the scout to head to edge of town and to give the signal. It had been planned that when Dolan’s men came the scout
would inform either Miguel or Billy first before giving the signal.
“Go to it, amigo!” Billy said
The boy walked a few feet before placing two
fingers in his mouth and releasing the most ear splitting whistle he could manage.
Across town Sabio a few others where at the ready before the whistle. A group of men on horseback numbering a dozen bearing torches, rifles and six shooters, charging through the coming night like a plague, was hard to miss.
Sabio and a number of others met at the prearrange meeting place at the edge of town, facing the only accessible direction into El Tiempo. The men drew closer as twilight grew dimmer. A cloud of dust emanated behind
Selman’s posse like a dirty storm cloud.
Sabio pulled a pair of binoculars from his gunny sack and peered at the coming men. They were
quiet but looked ready to fight. They were not
passing a bottle of whiskey, they wanted to be
sharp, Sabio thought worried.
“So boys, whats the number?” Billy said seeming to appear out of nowhere.
“Jesucristo, Billy. You scared me. “ Sabio said
“About twelve. They look ready to fight, as are we.”
The few men their nodded in agreement, one raised a machete that shone a deadly gleam in the fading sun light. The red color of it chilled Billy.
“Don’t shoot unless they shoot first. Go to your positions and stay low.”
Billy and his men spread out through various points up and down the same street Selman gave
his speech during his previous visit, some on roofs of houses or businesses others street level. The men Dolan sent were riding in a cluster but began to spread out when they got within rifle range of the town. Billy took a deep controlled breath
before the fight began.
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At the front of the group rode Selman still in black.
Billy watched from a window in a cafe as Selman and his posse entered El Tiempo. Sabio was right, twelve, against his seven.
Selman was riding to the center of town, he had a man on each side of him. The two men got off their horses, one of them carried a torch. Selman stayed on his horse, he unholstered a pistol and fired it
into the air. The sound of shutter slamming shut and a baby wailing greeted the gun fire.
“I gave you fucking beaners the chance to bring me Billy The Kid! You have one minute to bring him out or you will feel the everlasting fucking wrath of my god damn Colt.”
Selman took out a pocket watch and after almost forty seconds he shoved it back into his pocket.
“Aw fuck it! Burn it all down.”
The one carrying a torch walked to the house next to where Billy hid, and tossed it into the window.
Billy heard the crackle and whoosh of a flame. He almost ran to the back when the first bullet flew.
“Puto gringo bastardo!” shouted someone as the
glass above Billy shattered an rained down on him.
Smoke began to enter the building Billy hid in, he raised his rifle and jumped out through the broken bay window using the cover of smoke to get
passed Selman and his arsonist. He stopped just behind them, the one to his left was directly in front of him, all three had their backs turned to him.
Billy crouched down to one knee, and shot the man in the crotch. Before Selman and the other could turn, Billy was running to the other side of the street while both posse’s began to exchange gun fire.
The scream of pain and pop of rifle’s and pistols was just white noise in Billy’s ears, an adrenaline rush shot through his heart as he ran behind a little cottage. He took another deep controlled breath as
he came out between the cottage and another building, where he saw a horse trough filled with water and slid just behind it for cover.
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He was below the building smoke, which was
thick and stung the eyes. Selman’s men began to shoot in all directions in a panic. The cloud of grey smoke was building and billowing slowly around
the entire street in a dense fog.
Billy looked into the smokey chaos and could see the oafish shape of a huge figure riding horseback.
“Selman,” Billy said in a whisper.
Billy cocked his rifle and got on one knee, he
leaned the Winchester on the trough and aimed
high. A loud pop and the shriek of a horse
followed by a thud echoed in the street. Billy
missed and shot Selman’s horse, but now Billy had a clear view of Selman on the ground.
Before he could take aim and shoot again another man on a horse rode up and shot his revolver at Billy, but it was a wild panicky shot that missed.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Selman said as he climbed on the back of the shooters horse.
Billy got up and thought about shooting him in the back, but felt that was cowardly and lowered his rifle. In all Selman lost three men, no one from El Tiemo had been killed. The torch which they had thrown to start a fire had fortunately landed in a basket of wet laundry, which had caused the dense smoke that had aided Billy.
That thought reminded Billy of his lucky escape to Old Mexico thanks to a stroke of green lightning.
Whatever that was, in the end it was luck for Billy.
Billy rose from the ground shaking his head
wondering if his luck wouldn’t someday run out.
Billy knew this was just beginning. It was almost the same as back in New Mexico, except this
wasn’t a cattle war, it was a blood feud. A whole month had passed before another battle took place.
It was a cold night, a moonless night. Selman had used it as cover to kill three of the scouts by cutting their throats. It had just been Selman and three others, they had entered town on foot and used
blades instead of bullets.
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They had found Sabio during his watch.
“Tell me where The Kid is.” Selman said holding up a large knife with a blade covered in coagulated blood. “I’ll give you money,eh.” Selman shook a hand filled with coins in a merry jingle.
“For tequila, right ya fucking beaner?”
Sabio nodded with a wide cheery smile.
“Tequila, senor?” he said questioningly.
“Yeah, you tell me were the kid is, comprenede?”
“Si, si senor. I tell you, you gimme Tequila?”
Sabio leaned forward as if to whisper but instead spat a sizable loogie on Selmans face.
“He up your madre’s twat you puta bitch, now
gimme my fucking tequila!”
Selman instead gave him every inch of the dirty blade in his gut. Selman covered Sabio’s mouth
which emitted a wet gurgling scream. Blood
seeped through his fingers and dripped along him arm.
“Dirty fucker.” He said disgusted letting the body drop to the ground and flicking blood off his finger tips. “Pick’em up.”
Selman and the three others laid his body in the middle of the road and spread out his entrail
across the street from one side to the other. Written in blood on the ground next to the body were the words ‘Billy’s pals.’ That had given Billy bad
dreams for weeks.
The following day Sabio was buried on his farm, an old priest with skin like leather gave a short service. Billy watched as Sabio’s wife and daughter, who was much younger than Billy, stood at the foot of the grave, his wife looked up from where her husbands body laid and saw Billy.
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He thought she would blame him, and curse him for bringing this misfortune to her family. When she was face to face with him she instead took his
hands and held them tightly in her own. Her eyes were red rims and glazed with tears, her face was puffy and sad.
“Conseguirlos, Billy!” She gripped his hands tighter and held them close to her heart.
Conseguirlos!”
She let go of his hands and took her daughter and walked away, still sobbing. Miguel put a hand on his shoulder.
“What next, Billy. They will come back, they have tasted our blood and will now be thirsty for it.”
Billy figured the best way to keep El Tiempo safe was to keep Selman out. The twelve men were
probably the most Dolan could let cross the border without causing a real military crisis. Mexicans were not found of US military and never would be.
Billy remembered a book he had read on Civil
War skirmishes. He couldn’t recall the exact battle but the south had been out numbered but had still managed a victory thanks to shovels and slave
labor.
“Trenches.”
”Que?”
“Get some shovels, and anyone with a strong back.
We need to set up a defense.”
It had taken just two days to dig enough trenches to make a direct route into town impossible. Billy looked at the holes from the top of the bar’s roof.
Miguel had climbed up with him and took in the
sight of the pock marked desert.
“Lets see, the bastardos get in now.” Miguel said nodding with approval.
“No this won’t work. He’ll see it long before he get close enough for us to snipe them out.”
“Then what do we do, Billy? Jesucristo, I hope we not gonna fill them back up?!”
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Billy turned away from the trenches and looked back into town. A few yards down the rode and elderly woman sat on a rocking chair knitting
furiously, next to her sat a large pile of burlap sacks. Billy watched her sitting under the shade of tree that looked to be the same age as her and the large mounds of sacks, probably filled with
laundry.
“Miguel, you think she’s cross stitching or needlepoint?”
Miguel looked at Billy but saw he was serious,
then saw the old woman on the rocker.
“Shit, Billy. How do I know?” Miguel asked
hoping his friend hadn’t gone loco.
“Who is she?”
“She a seamstress, she work out her home their.
You interested in her, Senor? Maybe I put in a
good word for you.” Miguel said with a wink.
Billy laughed and said: “No, but lets say you
introduce us any hows.”
It wasn’t long before Miguel figured out why Billy wanted to meet her. The seamstress, Rosalita, had a talent for quick work from what Billy had
observed. Billy told her what he wanted, and
when.
“No, demasiado.”
“She will need help Billy. Isabella can help her, and Sabio’s widow. She will help too, I am sure.”
Miguel asked if two more would help get it done quicker.
“Si,”
In just a day the three women had knitted a half dozen burlap sacks into three separate tarps. By the following day they had a dozen more of various
sizes. When they had been finished Billy and the others covered random holes and trenches using
lengths of wood and large heavy rocks to hold
them down.
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“They might notice they are just burlap, Billy.”
“In a few days the dust will hide them for us, trust me Miguel.”
What if they come before then, Miguel wanted to ask but didn’t. He understood that this was the best they could do, and to hope it would be a while
before Selman and his gang returned. Months
passed but there had been no sight or sound from the north.
As the year was winding down, Billy began to hope maybe Dolan had finally given up. It was
late in the fall, when Caesar who was on lookout came from the roof of the gin mill.
“They’re coming.”
“So much for wishful thinking.”
Billy had taken cover in a hole that was dug near the edge of town, a moment later Miguel arrived rifles in hands.
“You forgot your rifle, senor.”
“If this works out, we might not need them.” Billy said taking the rifle anyway.
Billy watched as they got closer and began
spreading out again, thats when it happened. Two of the men on horseback near the center went
crashing into one of the covered holes. A scream and shriek of pain rang out.
Selman had quickly looked back raising his rifle, when he missed one of the covered holes and rode straight into an uncovered hole that was just a few feet deep. The man riding to his left had been so close Selman almost got trampled by him.
Billy laughed when he saw the horse jump over
Selman and land directly into another hole. The horse had landed standing up but was boxed in and couldn’t climb out. Another horseman had ridden around the covered trenches and was maneuvering
through the uncovered ones getting within a few hundred feet of town before his horse’s back hoof stepped on a hole and tossed him and his rider
backwards into the trench.
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Less than a half dozen remained, and no shots had been fired. Miguel began to laugh when the boxed in horseman tried to step on the ground but only fell over backwards onto his already restless
horse.
“Jesucristo, Billy. It working.” Miguel said in wonder. “They would need a cannon to reach us
now.”
Billy nodded and watched as Selman and his
cohorts got out of the hole and rode back north.
Though they all escaped, the town acquired a few horses and some ammo cartridges. It had been a while between attacks and Billy hoped it would be
a long time before the next. Over the following six months there had been tiny skirmishes of mostly long distance rifle fire.
No one in El Tiemo had been hurt or killed during the exchanges and Billy supposed the same of
Selman’s posse. During the mid summer of that
year was the last and the bloodiest exchange. It was early in the afternoon, when a lookout spotted a wagon being drawn by four of the stoutest
thoroughbred any one had ever seen.
Billy was walking through town when the lookout found him a few moments later. He told Billy and he told him to quickly find Miguel and to give the signal. Billy came to the same hole he had hid in before, Miguel arrived a few seconds later,
repeaters in hand.
He crouched and covered his eyes looking into the distance, the wagon had stopped. It was covered
with canvas but with a pair of binoculars Billy could see the wagon shaking.
“What the hell are they doin, amigo?” Miguel
asked when he looked through the binoculars.
“Wouldn’t count on that.”
A few hours had passed and the wagon was
unmoved, but there were men in it busying
themselves away on some project. When dusk
came five more men on horse back arrived.
“Shit, I hope they coming to help us, Billy.”
One of the five men was Selman. Billy watched
him approach the wagon and reach in with his arm as if to shake someone’s hand. One of the men who
rode with Selman was wearing a blue slouch hat
tried to rein the horses drawing the wagon.
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Billy could hear Selman shout at the man, another shout came from wagon. The man stopped and did
sharp turn and for some reason rubbed at his short scalp as the shouting grew louder from in the tent.
The man stood still as a statue until the shouting stopped.
“What was hell is going on?” Miguel asked but
Billy only shrugged.
The man who had been berated took the reins and lead the horse to the edge of the trenches and
turned the wagon so that its back end faced town.
The man in the slouch cap removed the horses from the wagon but there was no shouting this time
around.
The next hour drew slowly as day became evening and evening became night. They lit a lone torch, Billy counted as many as ten men but it was to dark to be sure. What happened next was so sudden
Billy thought he imagined it.
A sudden loud sound assaulted his ears followed by a whoosh of air, Billy thought back to that night when the sky filled with green lightning. Then the earth shook under their feet and the sky above them filled with debris from one of the buildings behind the towns center rained down like shrapnel.
Terrified screams echoed into the sky with another pop and boom followed by more debris raining
down on the dusty streets.
“Jesucristo, he has a fucking cannon.”
Another roar and another explosion, this one had hit one of the houses along the main street. They were accurate shooters. Billy jumped out of the whole not bothering to wait for Miguel and ran
across town towards the gin mill, another cannon ball had nearly clipped Billy as he came busting through its batwing doors.
The bar was deserted a lone cigar burned in the corner wafting in the breeze Billy’s entrance
created. On the wall were rows of liquor, Billy searched through the bottles quickly. Miguel then entered looking pale as a ghost, he noticed when he saw himself in the mirror behind the bar.
“Billy what...”
“Rags!” Billy said not looking at Miguel.
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Miguel looked at a loss for words, his town was burning and here his friend was collecting rags for
bottles that needed dusting.
“Dry rags, burlap. Something I can burn.”
Miguel went behind the bar and looked franticly for a rag or a strip of cloth he could cut. He found rag on top of the bar but it was wet. Underneath the bar he pushed aside bottles and glass breaking
beside him, the noise of their breaking muted by the roar of another explosion from the cannon.
Finally Miguel found dry rags in an empty bucket, almost a dozen. He went to bring them to Billy
who had an armful of bottles, he detoured to the table with the smoking cigar sitting in a cut glass dish. Next to the dish was a trio of wooden
matches.
He pocketed the matches and took a few bottles from Billy as they ran outside. It was then that a cannon ball roared through the bar and the roof collapsed, the wind of it knocked Billy’s hat off.
He and Miguel had no time to react as Billy began to run towards Miguels stable.
As they reached the stables an uneasy quiet settled over the town as parts of it had begun to catch fire.
Billy noticed the long duration since the last shot, almost ten minutes since the gin mill collapsed, and they were averaging one shot every three or four minutes by Billys estimation.
“Miguel, let me see your glasses.”
Miguel handed them over and Billy quickly
climbed up the side of the stable and stood on its roof.
“Billy, you wanna get shot, estupido!”
Billy ignored him and in the distance peered
through the binoculars confident of the distance.
They had stopped shooting, he could see the men running franticly in and out they had plenty of cannon balls still.
“Did they run out of...”
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Just then Caesar came running talking quickly in Spanish.
“Caesar,” Billy said as he jumped down from the ladder. “ Go to the other side of town, take the horse and circle the wagon but stay out of rifle range and keep shooting in the air with this.”
Billy took a six shooter from his holster and handed the weapon to Caesar. He took the gun wide eyed, he dry swallowed and nodded, the
click in his throat was loud.
“If they start ridin out to ya, head to the top of the canyon and wait, they’d never follow ya up there.”
Caesar nodded and asked: “Que?”
“Distraction. Come on Miguel, go now Caesar!”
Ceaser ran to a horse with pistol in hand, he
quickly mounted and rode off into the smoky fiery chaos of El Tiempo. Billy quickly tore strips of the rags and laid them into a pile and poured some
liquor on the pile and quickly placed each rag in a bottle and fastened it closed with a cork.
He and Miguel under the cover of darkness with armfuls of bottles, jogged quickly around the field
of trenches. They were directly behind the wagon when gun shots far off rang out, Billy watched as the group of men working on whatever problem the cannon had stopped cold and looked away from
him.
“Come on,” Billy said.
They were less than fifty yards when they
continuing gunfire drew them further away from the wagon, Billy and Miguel slowed down from a run
to a jog to a slow creeping walk as they came
within site of a trench that zigged out towards
Billy gestured quickly as they came within the light of the lone torch. They jumped down and crouched as Billy held out a hand, without a word Miguel handed him the three wooden matches. Billy lit a match and lit two fuses.
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He rose slowly and peeked his head over the edge of the hole, most of them men were still guarding the wagon, two other men were back inside doing something with the cannon. Billy threw both
bottles, one right after the other into the wagon.
Billy was back down in the hole when he heard a bottle break and the whoosh of fire followed by screams.
Above them, panic erupted.
“Mother fucker! Its on fire!” said someone.
“She’s gonna explode!” said another.
No one had noticed them and were hopefully to afraid to stick around and find out why everything
was blowing up all around them.
“Holy shit, Billy! We...” Miguels word were lost in a large explosion that had shook the ground
much worse than the bombardment had.
The dirt walls of the trenches had began to crumble and fill the hole. Billy and Miguel began to climb out, every couple of seconds there would be a
flash of red and another explosion filling the trench with more dirt making it more difficult to climb out.
“Hurray before we get smothered!” Billy screamed into Miguels ear.
Without checking to see if Selman and company
had really run off, both of them clawed their way out of the hole into the smoky night. They both stayed low to the ground, there was no wind and the smoke hung over like a storm cloud.
Behind them the wagon was burning bright, the gun powder had completely burned in the blaze Billy assumed when the explosions ceased. Still they
quickly crawled away from the gloriously bright blaze into the darkness.
“There, right there!” screamed Selman.
Out of the darkness in front of them three men road with revolvers unholstered. Billy quickly kneeled down and unshouldered his rifle. He didn’t say a word he just aimed at the three dark horsemen.
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A pop and then a thud as one of them were felled by rifle fire. Billy quickly cocked his rifle and aimed again. Billy and the horseman he aimed at fired simultaneously the rifle fire from Billy killed the second horsemen but his bullet caught Billy
high on the arm knocking him down.
Miguel who had been close by, began to shoot
repeatedly at the third horseman. Eventually he hit the horseman although he didn’t kill him he turned back into the darkness. Miguel ran and helped
Billy up.
They were about to run back to town when more
shouting and gun fire came from behind them.
“Gimme your pistol! Go back to the hole!” Miguel handed over his pistol.
“But...”
“Light up some more cocktails!”
“Billy I lost the matches.”
“Shit!” Billy said but he and Miguel jumped back down the hole anyway.
The collapse of the walls had filled the hole up a quarter of the way.Miguel found three unbroken
bottles under the dirt. Billy grabbed them and
tossed them a few feet in front of him beyond the hole.
“Get your rifle ready, you know what to do.”
Before Miguel could ask any questions, Billy was out of the hole unarmed. He could hear them
approaching, with hands raised Billy walked
around the blazing wagon. Selman was at the lead, with a revolver in hand.
He stopped twenty feet short of Billy and
unknowingly ten feet from the liquor bottles.
Selman looked surprised for only a moment.
“Kid Antrim, been a long time.” he said with a smile that was full of teeth.
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“John.” Billy said.
Selman and the men he rode with approached Billy slowly, with their weapons at the ready.
“Someone’s been looking for you, Billy my boy.
Can’t figure how Garret didn’t get your ass, neither could Dolan. Luck of the Irish, I reckon. Your
lucks finally run out though, Kid.”
“Tell me about it," Billy said to himself.
Selman came closer to the bottles as Billy walked back and just to the left of a trench, hoping Selman didn’t look down. Selman’s men rode along side
of him, rifles pointed squarely at Billy’s chest.
“No more protection from your beaner friends, you come with me and I maybe i wont wipe this
fucking Mexican shit hole off the map.”
Billy saw just a few feet were still left between
Selman and the liquor bottles. The wound on Billy’s arm was bleeding and sore but he kept both arms up.
“I can let you get fixed up before we go see the hangman, Billy. I’m not a total asshole, just give up. Tunstall’s dead, Dolan has his land, those dick heads Frank and George in New Mexico can’t help you. Let’s end this now.”
Billy felt blood run down his shirt and drip all the way to his left foot which was making his boot
squishy. A wave of light headedness made his
whole body sway, which Selman noticed.
Selman laughed.
“You’re gonna bleed out, Kid.”
Billy gave a smile as his face grew pallid and
white but he remained silent as Selmans horse
stood over top of the bottles filled with the
flammable amber liquid.
“Say something, you commin or ain’t ya?”
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“Miguel,” Billy said as his eyes rolled up into his head and passed out into an open hole.
Before Selman could react, Miguel sprang out of the hole with a rifle aimed low.
“Adios, bastardos.” he whispered and shot.
A wall of flames flashed and burned Selman and
his company, Miguel ducked down as more gunfire erupted and screams of burning and melting horse and human flesh echoed through the Mexican
desert. After a few minutes of quiet Miguel
climbed out of the hole.
A horse and two men were laying on the ground,
alive but badly burned, all three screamed horrific pain. Although Miguel had no love for these men, he quickly put them out of their misery but only after he shot the horse. To him the horses death was wasteful.
“Billy!” Miguel said.
He jumped into the hole and bandaged his arm
well enough to finally stop the bleeding. Miguel squeezed Billy’s hurt arm and his eyes shot open.
“Miguel...where...Selman...where is...”
“I think they all left. Be quite now, my amigo.
You’re hurt bad.”
The next day, began the clean up of El Tiemo,
Billy had lost much blood but survived. With his arm in a sling, he laid in bed while Isabella nursed him. She had been reading to him when there was a knock at the front door.
Isabella excused herself and returned a moment
later with Miguel.
“You are better, amigo.” Miguel said relieved.
He felt guilty not realizing Billy had been hurt badly when he put their enemies out of their
misery.
“Si, Miguel. Thanks to you I still got an arm.Whats the count?”
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“Eleven dead and eight missing. Not many serious injuries, Jesucristo. Gringo, bastardos. They
brought a cannon on us, Billy. We can’t allow them to get away with this.”
“What can we do, amigo?”
“President Diaz, Billy. I have written a letter. No gringo can just bring his military weapons to regin destruction on us! It is evil! Men, women, children dead!”
“Miguel,” Isabella said softly. “Diaz doesn’t care about poor farmers.”
“He must! I have looked at this cannon, it was
made by the Americanos bluebacks. Perhaps we
can get our government to help protect you Billy.”
Billy was unsure. The US government was as
corrupt as James Dolan, and the laws of old
Mexico were looser than those state side. Still, Billy always had hope and lots of luck it seemed.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt to try, amigo.”
Miguel wrote a letter to the office of the Mexican president, for weeks he waited but got no
response. He wrote another, and timed passed and still nothing. After a third letter, Miguel finally received a response, but not the one he had hoped for.
“Puta bastardos!” Miguel said slamming down the letter on a table where Billy sat.
Isabella stood at the sink washing dishes, clicking her tongue at Miguels swear.
“Read this, they are worse than that murdering
Selman.”
Billy took the letter and read it quickly to himself.
“What does it say, Billy?” asked Isabella but
Miguel answered in flurry of Spanish.
“It says he can not help us because he is an outlaw and our friends in America said not interfere or the Federals will declare it an act of war.”
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“Is this true, Billy?”
Billy put the letter down with a heavy sigh, but smiled regardless.
“Signed by President Porfirio Diaz himself. That’s one big fuck you for our side.” Billy said.
“Billy! Language!” Isabella said with a click of her tongue as she twisted a dish rag in her hands.
“My apologies, Bella.” Billy said with sincerity and a smile. “But the fact remains the same.”
“Will they really do such a thing Billy?” Isabella asked turning back to the sink to wash dishes.
“If they come back and we fight no. But if we keep trying to get Diaz to help they would. Dolan has connections that guy dressed in blue could have been a military man. Mexico couldn’t stand a war with the US, which may have been what Dolan
could have threatened if he tried to help us at all. I keep thinking about the young fella dressed in blue and whoever was givin him hell. You said it was a US military cannon?”
“Si, si. It had the letters US on its backside, it was burned bad but not so bad I could’nt see those
“Maybe Dolan had some military connections. You can’t just buy something like that I imagine.”
“Maybe he bribe someone?” Isabella said, looking over her shoulder at them wiping suds off a butter dish.
Billy thought for a moment then nodded.
“Yeah, that’s Dolan’s thing too. That son of...sob.
He’s probably gotten a lot richer since I split town.”
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He wanted to get his hands on a newspaper, but not long after his escape to El Tiempo Caesar had
gotten a copy of the Silver City news wherein he was villianized as a cat torturing cold blooded murderer that had shot a man once just for snoring too loud, and were sorry he hadn’t been shot in the back like a cowering dog as one citizen was quoted. He hadn’t wanted to read a newspaper
since.
He wasn’t adverse to newspapers so much. Even if they were being dishonest about his character. He
felt he couldn’t blame the papers for writing about him as they had. You could believe other stories, but he didn’t know if anyone would ever believe anything good of him anyway.
“I guess all we can do is wait, keep watch and
keep them weapons in your mom’s hutch Miguel.”
“And I’ll make up some of your special fire drinks, Billy.” said Isabella rinsing dishes not looking at them this time.
“No, senorita. If there is a fight I want you in Miguels basement” Billy said hoping she would agree.
“That is where, I shall put these bottles in the basement to keep them cool, should there be a fight I will grab a rifle and fight.” she said with finality.
“Isabella,” Billy said
“I am not just your nurse and servant Senior
Mccarty!” she turned from the sink tossing the dish rag in and causing a huge splash of water too soak the floor.
Her hands balled into fists planted firmly on her hips, suddsey water dripped slowly from between her fingers.
“You expect me to sit in a basement and cower
like a little girl to be protected when those men return. I am not your wife that needs to be taken care of I can defend my home land without you!”
Isabella stormed out with eyes glazed and red with tears of anger, and went out to the porch. Miguel quickly got up and excused himself and left out the back porch. Billy followed slowly out front to
Isabella.
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She stood still as a statue facing north towards Billy’s homeland.
“My love,”
“Que? Now I am your love?”
“I...”
“Let me speak.”
“The thing that makes me love you, Billy is that you listen to me. You see me as a person, that is why people here love you. Because you see them
as the real people that we are. Not dirty beaners or moronic savages your people think we are. When
someone is being pushed around you would be the first to defend that person. But you hurt me when you try to hide me while danger comes here. I
nursed you when you nearly died of thirst and then when you almost lost your arm and your life. I
made love to you without asking for your love.
And now that you love me I should leave like you left the many senorita’s’s in New Mexico?”
Billy approached her slowly an stood beside her as she looked north still. A tear slid down her cheek and into the bodice of her dress. He spoke softly to her in her native language.
“My love, I never meant for you to hurt. I was
weak to take advantage...”
“Ha! I let you make love to me. You didn’t force me, I desired you. I have only been with one other, but as I can not bear children he saw no reason to stay. I am sure you have heard at least that about me.”
Billy had, the one thing America and Mexico had in common was that there was always town gossip.
“So you understand how it was I who took
advantage of you, perhaps. I am of no use to you as a wife and only wanted to know what being safe in your arms felt like even if only once.”
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“I thought you didn’t need me to protect you.” Billy asked gently.
“There is a difference, Billy between being
protected and being safe. We protect things, but it is the person you love that you keep safe."
Billy raised his arm and touched her shoulder,
giving her a rush of great warmth on her skin.
“I never asked for your love or your hand because I didn’t want to leave a young widow even if we couldn’t have children, having kids ain’t the most important thing in the world. I couldn’t promise you a long marriage if I got enemies like James Dolan, and they could come for you if we got
married.”
Billy took Isabella by both shoulders and turned her gently to face him.
“I love you Isabella, I want to marry you.”
“Then you must promise me something, Billy.”
“Anything.”
“Keep me safe and don’t protect me, and if there is a fight, I will fight and I’ll not hear otherwise. If that is a problem, senior I can show you the door.”
“Si, senorita.” Billy said taking her in his arms and kissing her.
At the end of the month, they married and the town celebrated. Miguel had let Billy and his new bride live at his farm while he spent his time building a home for he and Isabella, with an eye always facing north waiting for Selman.
Whatever bodies of Selman’s posse were laying
their after the night the cannon fired in the desert had been gone by sun rise morning, the town was in too much shock to notice who might have come for them. The cannon just a burnt hulk remained but
was slowly submerging into the desert sand. No one had come to wreck havoc on them. It was
almost two and a half years before anyone came.
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