Chapter VIII
* * *
West Texas, June 1869
A strong summer wind blew across the Texas plain and briefly shrouded the man in a dusty haze as he stood over the unfortunate soul buried to his neck in the sand and rock ground. As the dust cleared, the man’s features were easier to make out. He wore dark clothing, strange in such heat. But the clothes matched the man’s mood well. And his dark hair was greasy and longer than it had ever been before. His face was still that of a younger man, but hardened with wind scratched toughness and a few slight scars scattered about. And his eyes were difficult to make out behind his squint, due to both the weather and his soul.
From behind him, he heard the sound of men approach and Sonny turned to see Hollis ride up with Ed, Gus and three other men. Quickly coming to a halt, they all dismounted and Hollis surveyed the scene.
“So what we got here?” He asked with a mix of humor and seriousness.
Sonny looked back down at the man buried in the rocky sand, “Look like he got caught. Still alive though.”
Hollis bent down and tilted the man’s face to his own. The man let out a raspy gurgle and Hollis turned back to Sonny. “Yup. He say anything to ya?”
“Nope. Ain’t asked him nothin’.” Sonny pulled the canteen from his side and poured a bit over the man’s burnt face while Hollis gestured for the other men to come over and help dig him out.
It did not take long to pull him from his intended grave, and after moving him into some shade that a slight rocky outcrop provided and giving him some more water, he was finally able to speak.
“Which direction they head in?” Hollis had good reason to ask, assuming others had done this to him and hoping they were the same others he was looking for.
The man seemed unsure at first until Sonny dropped to a knee and rested his hand on his shoulder. “What’s yer name, pardner?”
In an accent that was unfamiliar to Sonny, the man answered, “Pet...Petrovsky…Dmitri Petrovsky.”
“What in hell kinda name is that?” one of the other men behind them asked.
“What’s that…European?” another followed.
“It Russian,” the man softly answered, his head hung low.
Sonny shifted his weight to sit next to Petrovsky, and offered him his canteen again, which Petrovsky eagerly took. “What ya doin’ in these parts, Mister? Bit far from home, ain’t ya?”
Drinking a bit too fast, Petrovsky was forced to spit some of the water out as he nodded his head. “I come to America…come with wife and children to find life…new life. Son…he die…four years ago in Boston. Wife…Anouska…she and girl…they like Boston…want to stay…but I cannot. Painful there…the memories.”
Sonny turned to look off in the distance before turning back to Petrovsky. “So you come this a way.”
“Da…yes…I decide to head out west…hear there much fortune to be had. We travel by boat to New Orleans and then by wagon through Texas after war end. And then…” he stopped for a moment to cover his face as tears began to flow. “And then the savages…the very bad men with paint…they take my wife and my girl…they leave me here to die…”
As he burst into a fresh round of sobbing, Sonny stood and looked to Hollis. “Sounds like our Injins.”
“Sure do.” Hollis looked back to Petrovsky. “So which way they head?”
Petrovsky pointed awkwardly to the south. “I not know…maybe there…” He began to curse loudly in Russian and the men looked to each other with a mix of curiosity and understanding.
Sonny gestured to Hollis that they should head that way and wordlessly, Hollis agreed as he moved back to his horse along with the other men. Petrovsky noticed them moving away and did his best to stand, but fell back to the ground.
“Please…do not leave…not here…I cannot stay…” he cried out.
Gus caught Sonny’s arm. “We can’t leave him like this.”
Sonny looked back at Petrovsky. “Ain’t much he can do one way or ‘tother. Ain’t got time to nursemaid some foreigner.”
Petrovsky succeeded in getting to his feet and did his best to shuffle towards Sonny and Gus. “Do you go after men…do you seek these men I tell you about?”
Sonny nodded and Petrovsky grabbed at Sonny’s arm. “You must take me with…I must go and find wife and girl. These men…they are terrible men. I cannot think of what they do to them.”
He was sobbing once more and Sonny had little time for it. Looking to Gus, “You take him on yer horse. We got to catch up with them Comanche or they’ll trade ever last bit of Barnes’ horses and goods ‘fore we get there.”
Gus did not argue and helped the man to his horse as the rest of the group took off to find the Indians they were looking for. After an hour or so of riding, they came upon steep cliffs that rose out of the rocky plain and extended on both sides forming a slight canyon. They came to a halt and Sonny and Hollis met to decide their course of action.
“Ya figure they in there?” Hollis asked.
Sonny looked from the open space to the west towards the entrance to the canyon and nodded. “Seems ‘bout right. Must a had to stop for the night I figure, and this seems the place for it.”
“Best we get to the top and scout it then,” Hollis suggested.
“Yup. Take two of the fellas and see what ya can. I’ll keep the rest here and make sure they don’t sneak out.”
Hollis gathered two of the men and they proceeded on foot up the side of one of the cliffs while Sonny walked over to Gus and Petrovsky. “If’n they’re in there, we’ll get ‘em, Mister. Best ya stay back and let us handle this.”
But Petrovsky shook his head. “No…they must pay…I must save my family…the only family I have left.”
“Can ya shoot?” Sonny asked; an eyebrow arched to signal doubt.
“Da…I can shoot as best as any man…just give me gun. I show you.”
“Not jest yet, Mister.”
“You call me Dmitri,” he answered as he looked towards the canyon entrance.
“Best maybe we call ya Pete. How’s that suit ya? Ain’t none of us too good at names and such…specially yorn.”
“Da…Peeete,” he said heavily accented. “It will serve.”
Sounds of rocks falling alerted Sonny and he turned to see Hollis scramble back down the cliff. He was nodding his head as he approached. “They’s in there all right. Most are still asleep, but I seen the women folk he talked about. Couple more too. Looks like they planned a big swap meet.”
“Well, we best get in there and change that,” Sonny answered with a slight smile. “Them other two good to go up there?”
Hollis nodded as he pulled the reins of their horses to him. “They got a nice vantage point to cover us. I spect we should just sneak on in and surprise ‘em.”
“Good.” Sonny reached for his saddlebag and pulled out a well-worn pistol. Handing it to Pete, he suggested, “Best ya keep as far back as ya can. Ya let us handle most of it. Jest cover.” He looked to Gus. “Ya keep watch of him. Don’t need nobody goin’ off half cocked.”
Gus slapped Sonny on the back to answer yes and gestured for Pete to follow him. The rest of the men began a slow walk into the canyon, their horses being led on foot. As they rounded the second bend, Hollis gestured with his chin that they were just up ahead, and Sonny handed the reins of his horse to Gus.
He made movement with his hands to signal that the others do the same and then quietly whispered to Gus, “Stay back as long as ya can. Any of ‘em head this a way and ya shoot.”
“Watch yer back, Sonny-boy,” Gus followed as Sonny winked and began moving around the last bend with the others.
As they rounded the corner, they were soon in sight of the encampment. Two worn out wagons rested near a group of horses tied to them. Sonny gestured for Ed to untie them and rustle them out of the canyon. He kept a move himself and the others followed. Two Comanche were asleep, sitting up against a rock, and beyond them were a group of five women. Two young girls, and the other middle aged to old. One of the Comanche had a rifle rested across his lap, and the other seemed unarmed on the face of it.
Sonny looked around further, to see that a group of them were sitting around what had been a fire. It looked to be about ten in all, some asleep, the other halfway so or at least unaware that anything was about to happen. There did not appear to be any more. Taking little chance, Sonny gestured for Hollis and the other man to move towards the circle as Sonny himself gingerly approached the two that were asleep.
He reached around to his back and pulled out a familiar blade, as he navigated the uneven ground. He took one slight moment to look up towards the canyon ceiling and was able to make out one of the men waiting there as cover, and then moved around the back of the wagons. One of the older women noticed him at this point, and he placed a finger against his lips to signal that they keep quiet. But then one of the girls noticed as well. Just as Sonny moved around to approach the sleeping Comanche, she let out a slight shriek.
Sonny had just enough time to run his blade across the Indian with the gun’s neck, before the other was startled by his presence and moved to defend himself. As the shooting began between the others, Sonny found himself rushed by this Indian. Letting out a war cry, the Comanche jumped on top of Sonny and sent them both tumbling down a slight hill.
He could hear the horses being shooed out of the canyon and gunfire being shared, but his first concern was this man on top of him, both hands wrapped around his neck. Sonny kicked with his feet, and a knee met the Comanche in the side, sending him flying off to his right. Sonny stood and drew his gun, but felt a sharp pain in his leg. Looking down, he saw an arrow protruding. He did not stop to deal with it. He leveled his gun, but his foe was too close and knocked him across the face with a solid blow, making him drop his gun. He wasted little time in returning the gesture and knocked the Comanche back against the canyon wall as he pulled his knife again and rushed him. Burying it deep into the Indian’s chest, he gave it an extra angry twist before pulling it out.
As if second nature, he swiped the blade across his pants to clean it and sheathed it as he picked up his gun and turned to see one of their own down and Gus and Pete approaching from around the bend.
Gunfire sprayed across the area from above, and Hollis was low on the ground, firing as fast as he could. Sonny moved without haste to meet with a rush of two more Comanche who had noticed him by the women. One was quickly dispatched with two shots, but the other was upon the women as he did so. He had just enough time to see the Comanche swing his hatchet wildly, his braided hair spinning with each stroke and blood flying freely. But with two more shots, the Indian was down. If Sonny was aware of Pete’s approach, he did not show it as he moved quickly to dispatch the rest of the Indian warriors.
As he moved down the hill, he did finally see Pete pass him and move quickly in the mix with a raging yell. Shots were fired in quick succession and from many directions until finally the remaining Comanche were dead. Pete stood over them near the fire ring and heaved deeply in and out, blood smeared across his face and clothes, and his face a mask of confusion and anger.
Hollis quickly moved to make sure they were secure as Gus tended to one of the men who had been shot through with several arrows. He was dead and Sonny took the moment to look down and notice the arrow still protruding from his own leg. He sat back hard on the ground, with a spell of dizziness but caught himself before hitting his head on the rock. He saw that the arrow had passed all the way through and grabbed the tip, snapping it off as he pulled the shaft back through his leg.
Gus moved over to him when he heard Sonny’s wincing holler of pain and stood over him. “Pretty nasty work, these fellas.”
Sonny looked up with a cynical frown and then turned again to see the women lying in a blood soaked pile of death. Turning back to Gus, he accepted his hand and winced once again as he got to his feet. He did not look back again but rather answered, “Best find the goods and get them horses rounded up. Barnes’ll be wonderin’ where we’s at.”
He limped down the hill and moved towards Pete who still stood by the fire ring, firing an empty gun at the Comanche laying dead at his feet. Sonny reached out his arm and started to place his hand on Pete’s shoulder, but Pete turned quickly and stopped himself just short of firing his empty gun on Sonny.
They both stood there in silence for a moment, Pete looking back and forth between Sonny and beyond where the women lay dead. His questioning face was mixed with a soft Russian voice underneath that began to call out over and over, “Anouska…Anouska…”
With no words of comfort to say, Sonny turned and spoke behind him, “If yer comin’ with us, ya best get movin’, pardner.”
Dmitri Petrovsky stood still for a moment longer but slowly began to move and follow as the rest of the group headed back out of the canyon and towards their horses. Once they had gathered them all and fastened some of the wooden framed Comanche travois to their horses loaded up with Barnes’ goods, they proceeded back to where Barnes was hiding out.
He would be more than pleased to see them returned, as there was little else for the man to be happy about. If Sonny took any pleasure from that, he never let it show. After all, he was simply doing his job. And he did it well…well, most of the time. Sometimes a few casualties were part of the process. And Barnes cared little about that. He simply wanted his old life back. The years during and after the war had been difficult.
To be continued...
