Smith's Monthly #7 Page 4

  Jimmy told them what they had found, and then who had done it. He didn’t care for going over the story again and not a one of them said a word about what they had done to Benson’s man yesterday.

  “We buried the family up on the hill,” Jimmy said.

  “There are three men tucked in a few miles behind a wagon company about a half day up the trail,” the driver said, clearly relaxing, taking his hand off his gun. “Not much we can do.”

  “Out here, there’s not much anyone can do,” Zach said.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” the driver said.

  Jimmy described Benson and the driver nodded. “That was the man. It’s too bad, too. The Bennetts were good people. Thanks for burying them. You boys stay away from those three.”

  “We will,” Jimmy said to the driver, even though he knew they wouldn’t.

  Josh and C.J. got the Bennett’s full names from the driver. Josh wrote them down carefully, then the two of them went back up the hill to put the names on the crosses.

  Jimmy asked the driver if he could send a letter along to someone in Independence and the driver said sure. Jimmy wrote a quick note to his brother Luke, care of Doc Davis, and gave it to the driver. He offered to pay for the letter’s delivery, but the driver just tucked it in his pocket. “You’ve paid for the letter by burying our friends.”

  The stage left and they all paid their last respects to the family on the hill. Then, as they were back near the barn silently getting ready to mount back up, Long held up his hand. “Do you hear that?”

  Jimmy strained to hear something besides the wind in the trees and the distant sound of some fast water in the creek. Nothing, but Jimmy had come to accept that Long could hear and see things that none of the rest of them could. It was an amazing special ability.

  Long handed his horse lead to Zach and went back toward the smoldering house, quickly and silently.

  Finally, Jimmy heard what Long had heard.

  A faint whimper.

  Something was alive back there.

  But how could that be possible?

  Long and Jimmy went to the right of the cabin, Zach with his gun out went to the left. C.J. had his rock sling out and was right behind Jimmy.

  On the other side of the burnt-out building, they all stopped.

  Jimmy held his breath, listening to the sound of the stream and the faint wind in the leaves of the trees.

  Then the sound came again.

  A whimper.

  Long turned and moved around behind a few trees. There, he pulled open what looked like a sod-covered door on a root cellar that none of them had noticed tucked behind a tree next to the hill.

  Inside, sitting on the stairs, was a young boy, about seven years of age.

  He blinked at the bright light, then covered his head and started crying.

  It took an hour or so for the boys to get the child calmed down and some water and food in him. He said between sobs that his name was Arthur.

  Jimmy knew they certainly couldn’t take Arthur with them, but they also couldn’t just leave him either.

  Jimmy pulled Zach aside. “We need to get the kid back to Fort Hall.”

  “That’s a hundred miles back,” Zach said. “I can do it.”

  “Or find someone in a wagon company who will take him,” Jimmy said. He didn’t much like the idea of Zach not being at his side. There had to be a better choice.

  “A wagon train is unlikely,” Zach said. “Fort Hall with the military is his best bet. Unless we can catch up to that Butterfield Stage.” He didn’t sound hopeful, and Jimmy doubted they could. Those stages moved fast, and kept going, changing horses all the time.

  Jimmy stood thinking for a moment, staring at the three crosses on the hill above them. He knew that Zach was right, and he was the best person to do the ride because he was the most responsible of all of them.

  “Take along the two horses that we rescued,” Jimmy said. “They belong to the kid now anyhow. They might help him get a home. And give him the killer’s saddle and gear. Truitt can go with you.”

  Zach nodded.

  “If you don’t catch us by Virginia City,” Jimmy said, “we’ll wait for you there.” Virginia City was on the other side of Nevada from where they were, up against the Sierras and the final mountain passes over into California. At a good speed, they were still three weeks away from there, but with Benson moving slowly ahead of them, Jimmy doubted they would be moving very fast at all.

  Zach nodded. “If we ride solid, it won’t take anywhere near that long. We should be back with you by the time you are down on the Humboldt. Maybe ten days.”

  “That’s what I was figuring,” Jimmy said.

  Twenty minutes later, Zach and Truitt headed back east with the young boy saddled up on one of his horses.

  The other four Wild Boys continued west, using the killer’s horse as a packhorse. They still had three killers to track and try to stop.

  Part Twenty

  ON A KILLER’S TRAIL

  THE NEXT DAY, Jimmy, Long, Josh, and C.J. caught up with Benson and his men again just after the trail crested over a slight range of hills and dropped down onto Dead Horse Creek.

  The hills were covered in sparse dry grass and sagebrush. Only the areas along the creek were green.

  This area felt a lot more like a desert to Jimmy than anything they had come through, giving them almost no protection from the hot sun. The rock bluffs along the stream were brown, and sometimes towered a good hundred feet into the air above the shallow creek.

  The coach driver had been right, Benson and his three men were following a few miles behind a small wagon company with only eight wagons. Only having eight wagons was just asking for problems. Usually the companies were far larger when they left Independence.

  More than likely, this was just part of a larger company that had slowly split apart over the long months of travel.

  Long scouted ahead, watching Benson and his men, as the rest of them stayed back and out of sight. Jimmy was convinced that Benson planned on robbing the train at some point. The questions were when and where.

  And more importantly, how could Jimmy and the rest of them do something to stop it? This time, he didn’t want to kill any of them. The accidental killing of one of Benson’s gang bothered Jimmy a lot. He wasn’t about to let his friends become like Benson and his gang.

  That evening, the train made camp up against a tall rock bluff, with the wagons in a loose circle to protect the middle of the camp. Benson and his men camped back a few miles near a bend in the stream in some small trees.

  Jimmy had the boys get off the trail and make camp on top of the bluffs above the wagons and far enough away from the company that their fire wouldn’t be seen.

  “So, how are we going to stop Benson from robbing that wagon train?” Jimmy asked after they had a fire going. The sun was still an hour from setting and Jimmy figured they had just about that much time to do something.

  Josh held up some weeds. “This might do it,” he said.

  C.J. pushed his glasses down his nose and stared at the weeds in Josh’s hands. “You want to poison them? That’s called Loco-Weed and it drives cattle crazy.”

  Jimmy had never seen anything like it, and he was surprised that both Josh and C.J. knew what it was. It had been along the trail for miles.

  “My people use it in special ceremonies,” Long said. “It makes you see things that cannot be seen. It will not kill taken in small amounts.”

  Jimmy laughed, then stared at Long. “Think you can get some of that into Benson’s and his men’s food if we gave you a diversion? That ought to keep them from robbing anyone tonight.”

  Long nodded. “They are cooking beans and coffee they took from the homestead.”

  “What do you need for a diversion?”

  Long moved over toward the rocks without saying a word, then moving faster than Jimmy could see, he grabbed into a hole and picked up something. When he turned around, Jimmy could see it wa
s a very angry, very large rattlesnake. The rattle on the end of its tail was making an intense noise. “There horses will not like this,” Long said, holding up the huge snake he held behind the head.

  “I don’t like it,” C.J. said, backing away.

  Long held the snake with one hand while he watched Josh chop up some of the weeds into tiny bits, then smash them between two rocks until he had a fine powder. Long held out his empty hand and Josh brushed the powder into his hand.

  “Follow me,” Long said. “I will show you where you can watch their camp.”

  A few minutes later, Jimmy, C.J., and Josh were hiding behind rocks as Long worked his way down toward the killer’s camp. The three were sitting around the fire, clearly getting ready to eat. Their three horses were tied up in the trees about thirty paces from their fire.

  Long got close, tossed the snake into the middle of the horses, then ducked down behind a large rock near the three men. Jimmy would have been scared to death getting that close to those three killers like that, but clearly Long had very little fear of them.

  Their horses went crazy, rearing back against their ties, trying to get away from the angry rattlesnake.

  All three killers reacted as one, jumping up and running for the horses.

  Almost like a ghost, Long appeared near their food and drink and put powder in both, then vanished back behind a rock.

  It was everything Jimmy and Josh and C.J. could do to not laugh. They ducked down to make sure they weren’t seen, and after a few minutes, Long joined them.

  The four boys watched the killers eat. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. They cleaned up their camp, put out their fire, and got ready to ride out as it started to get dark. Clearly, they were still planning on robbing the wagon company.

  Then Jimmy noticed that one of the killers tried to get on his horse and missed, falling into the dirt. The other two laughed and pointed and laughed.

  “The plan seems to be working,” Josh said.

  “But not enough,” Jimmy said as the three rode laughing toward the wagon company.

  Part Twenty-one

  ONE MORE PLAN

  “CAN WE GET TO A PLACE above the wagons without being seen?” Jimmy asked as the three killers rode off. He couldn’t let Benson and his men kill more innocent people. He just couldn’t.

  “What are you thinking?” Josh asked, looking worried.

  “No plans yet,” Jimmy said. “But I’m open for all kinds of ideas. We can’t let those monsters kill an entire company of people.”

  “I agree,” C.J. said, patting his sling. “I just wish Zach had left the rifle.”

  Jimmy felt his stomach clamp at that. They were unarmed against three armed killers.

  “This way,” Long said, vanishing back into the darkness.

  It took them a good thirty minutes on foot to get to the bluff over the wagons. By that point, there had been shots and women screaming.

  The sound had made Jimmy’ blood go cold and his heart race. This couldn’t be happening again.

  Not again.

  A half-dozen cook fires lit up the area under them, making it seem like a bright day among the wagons. Benson had killed what must have been the train’s leader, and two of the killers were holding two women with guns to their heads. The rest of the families were standing helpless, just watching. The killers were weaving back and forth like they were drunk, and laughing at anything.

  There had to be twenty men and women in that train, plus another ten children.

  Jimmy knew that most of them were going to die unless they did something, and did it fast.

  Jimmy signaled that they should move back from the edge, then turned to C. J. and Josh, the two smartest of the Wild Boys. “Any ideas?”

  “We have surprise on our side,” Josh said. “They don’t know we’re here.”

  “And we have the darkness to help us,” C. J. said. “We can spook them into running since they have so much Loco weed in them.”

  “I can do a very frightening Bannock war cry,” Long said. “If I ride through the shadows near their horse making the cry, they might think they are surrounded by Bannock.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Especially if we are pelting them with rocks at the same time.”

  C.J. laughed and whipped out his homemade sling. “They won’t even know what hit them.”

  Three boys with rocks against three men with guns.

  Jimmy had no doubt they were going to have to be very lucky to get away with this attack.

  Very lucky if they lived, actually.

  He couldn’t believe that for the second time in three days he was going to attack Benson and his men. It was crazy.

  “Long, when we hear you coming, we’ll start throwing,” Jimmy said.

  “Five minutes,” Long said, nodding and then vanishing silently into the darkness back toward their camp and their horses.

  Jimmy went on. “C.J., you take the younger killer, Josh, you take the other one. “I’ll take Benson. Make sure you are in a sheltered place with a lot of rocks to throw when they start shooting. And if your man leaves the light, we all run.”

  Long and C.J. nodded.

  “This is going to be fun,” C.J. said, laughing.

  Josh just shook his head.

  Jimmy would have never called this fun. Crazy, yes, deadly, yes, but never fun.

  They all spread out along the top of the cliff, picking up fist-sized rocks as they went.

  Jimmy found at least a dozen and put himself behind a large rock that allowed him shelter, but if he leaned out and forward, he could clearly see the camp below.

  His heart was beating so hard, he was sure Benson could hear it.

  “Okay,” he said softly to himself. “Make each throw deadly.”

  At that moment, an echoing Bannock war cry filled the air, sending shivers down Jimmy’s back. It seemed to hang in the night air, echoing off the rocks like there was more than one call.

  Long was right, that was something that would frighten enemies and friends alike.

  Long came flashing into the light, past the fire, and back into the darkness. All three killers spun around, guns aimed into the darkness, but they had so much Loco-weed in them, they barely stood up.

  Jimmy took a deep breath, stood and threw the rock at Benson as hard as he could.

  Benson was standing in the middle of the camp, near a fire, staring after the ghost-like image of Long.

  The rock fell a few feet short, bounced once and slammed into Benson’s shin.

  Benson snapped forward and grabbed his leg, swearing and clearly in pain.

  In all his life, Jimmy had never felt such a thrill as that moment. Maybe C.J. was right.

  Maybe this would be fun.

  An echoing Bannock war cry again filled the air, sending more shivers down Jimmy’s back. The people in the wagon company dove for cover under the wagons as the three killers stood their ground under the rocks from above.

  All three killers started firing up at the cliff face, but their aim was random and far off target.

  Long flashed past the camp again, coming in closer behind the men, screaming out his war cry.

  Jimmy missed with his second rock, but his third throw hit Benson squarely in the chest and knocked him to his back in the dirt.

  Before he could get up, Jimmy hit him with another rock, this time in the back, sending him back to the ground.

  The gunfire had stopped.

  The two killers came running toward Benson, heading past him at a mad dash for their horses. They were clearly as scared as a grown man could get.

  Long’s war cry again filled the night air.

  Jimmy was throwing as hard and as fast as he could, letting his anger at Benson power his arm.

  A rock from C.J.’s sling caught the youngest of Benson’s men in the arm, clearly breaking it. The other man was bleeding from a head wound and limping from the attack that Josh had waged on him.

  Jimmy kept throwing, fast and hard, not le
tting the man who had killed his parents a moment’s rest.

  To the men below, it must have seemed as if the dark night sky had opened up and just dumped rocks at them.

  Long screamed out the Bannock war cry again.

  It made Jimmy shiver, and even Benson’s horses reared up at the sound.

  Jimmy’s aim was getting better. He hit Benson squarely in the shoulder as he climbed to his feet, spinning the man around and forcing him to drop his gun.

  Benson scrambled on all fours for his gun as Jimmy hit him in the back with another rock, sending him to his stomach.

  Finally, Benson scrambled up, turned and limped behind his men for his horse.

  Jimmy managed to hit him one more time in the back of his leg before Benson got mounted and rode at full speed west, out of the camp, following his two men down the California Trail.

  There was silence in the wagon camp.

  Jimmy knew that Long would follow the killers for a distance, terrorizing them, making sure they didn’t turn back on the wagon company.

  Below them, the stunned people of the wagon company scrambled for their weapons and got ready to defend themselves as well. It was going to take a little explaining as to why they wouldn’t have to.

  “Well,” C.J. said from somewhere in the darkness. “Shall we go down and say hello?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Jimmy said, laughing, feeling better than he had felt in a long, long time. They had beat Benson once more.

  Now Jimmy knew they could somehow do it again.

  And again.

  Until the killer was finally brought to justice.

  Jimmy looked down at the stunned people staring upward into the darkness, waiting for more rocks to come flying, then laughed again. “It seems they might owe us a dinner.”

  Continued next month…

  In the Poker Boy novel in this issue (which is the origin story for Poker Boy and his team), Poker Boy’s boss mentions something that happened earlier, before the novel.

  This story details that event, written as the third Poker Boy story I ever wrote and never published anywhere but in a fun little chapbook that Nina Kiriki Hoffman and I did and gave to about twenty friends.