Blood Sky at Morning

Chapter 24

Delbert Scofield finished smoking his cigarette, crushed it to bits between two fingers, scattered the remains on the ground. Then he scuffed up the dirt with his boot heels until there was no trace of tobacco or paper.

Hugo Rivers cleared his throat.

“When you aim to talk to Colonel Cody, Del?” he said.

Scofield looked over to where Colleen and Zak still stood.

“Directly. Soon as he gets finished sparking that schoolmarm.”

“It just don’t seem like he knows what for.”

“He knows something, that’s for sure.”

“Look, we ain’t follerin’ the old stage road no more. We brung along all them horses what are slowin’ us down. It don’t seem like he’s in no hurry to catch up with those outlaws we’re supposed to be chasin’.”

“I know. I wondered about that myself. And him goin’ off by hisself ever’ so often, ridin’ up to the top of a hill and flashin’ that little mirror.”

“I ast him about that. He says it’s a army heliograph,” Rivers said.

“A what?”

“A heliograph. It’s got a little cross cut into it, so’s he can sight the sun and make it bounce off. Says the Injuns call it a ‘talkin’ glass.’ ’Spose he’s talkin’ to the Apaches?”

“I don’t know what the hell he’s doin’, Hugo. This is gettin’ to look more and more like a wild goose chase.”

“Well, go ahead and ast him. We got a right to know. We’re low on grub. He ain’t said nothin’ about beddin’ down. He keeps lookin’ at that sky gettin’ blacker and blacker. We could get caught in a gully washer before mornin’.”

“All right. Quit your bellyachin’. I’ll ask him.”

The horses, those that had belonged to Chama, Carmen, Julio, Manuel, and Renaldo, were all roped together, standing disconsolately a few feet away, their rumps to the north, as the sun died in the west below an ashen sky turning darker by the moment.

Bull bats knifed the air, scooping up insects, and a chill seemed to rise from the land as the shadows softened and melted together. An eerie stillness settled over the rocks and plants, the low hills.

“Time to mount up,” Zak called over to Scofield and Rivers.

“Before we do, Colonel, sir, I got some questions, if that’s all right.”

“I have some questions of my own,” Colleen said. “When you’re finished asking, of course, Delbert.”

“Yes’m.”

“Corporal,” Zak said.

“Yes, sir, well, sir, I just wanted to know why we’re not trackin’ them men. You left the old stage road, and they could be anywhere. Ain’t nary a track out here in this open wilderness.”

“I know where Trask and Ferguson are going, Scofield. I expect Miss O’Hara knows, too, don’t you, Colleen?”

“Well, I know my brother makes maps. He wrote me what he was doing. He said he was marking where the Apache strongholds were, but only he can read the maps. He is probably guiding those men to one of the Apache camps, though. But I can’t imagine that Ted would betray the Apaches he’s made friends with. He…well, he said he respects them.”

“I’m counting on that,” Zak said.

“What about all that mirror flashing?” Scofield said. “You bringin’ the Apaches down on us, maybe?”

Zak smiled. It was growing darker, but he could still see everyone’s face, and they could see his.

“Tom Jeffords now knows we’re coming. He’ll tell Cochise, and we might be able to count on some Chiricahua help when we meet up with Trask and his bunch.”

“Likely, the Apaches won’t know the difference and wipe us all out,” Rivers said.

“Shut up, Hugo,” Scofield said. “I ain’t finished with my questions yet.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts.

“Go on, Scofield,” Zak said.

“Well, we got them horses what belonged to the people you killed, and they’re slowin’ us down. And we’re about out of grub. We only brought enough to last us three until we got to Tucson.”

“You’ll find food in the saddlebags of those horses we brought along,” Zak said. “And I have some in my own saddlebags. The horses are carrying bedrolls, water, rifles, and ammunition. They’ll come in handy when we run into Trask. We’re a few sleeps away from that, however.”

“How long do you figure we’ll be out here?”

“Oh, I expect we’ll see Trask and Ferguson tomorrow. About the time that storm hits. They’re riding the old stage road and I think they’re going to stop at each station to see what I’ve done to Ferguson’s operation. In fact, I’d say we’re ahead of them now, and we should get a visit from Jeffords, and perhaps a few Apache braves, before dawn.”

“So, you do have a plan,” Scofield said.

Zak didn’t answer. He turned to Colleen.

“You had some questions, Colleen?”

“I think you’ve answered most of them. I’m still wondering how you’re—we’re—going to save my brother, get him away from those awful men. I don’t want him to be killed.”

“I’m counting on your brother to make the right moves when we start the fight, Colleen. He’s a smart man, and no doubt he’s been looking for ways to escape all this time he’s been in captivity. That’s a bridge we’ll cross when we come to it.”

“Well, I worry.”

“Well, don’t. Worry is just something that keeps you from thinking things through. It doesn’t accomplish anything much, and it wears you down.”

She gave out a small laugh.

“I see,” she said.

“Look, all of you,” Zak said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Trask is a dangerous man. A desperate man. I think the Chiricahua can help us. We’re outgunned and outnumbered right now. But we hold some cards Trask doesn’t know about. I think he’s going to be surprised. I’m planning to make his hair stand on end.”

There was a silence among them for several moments.

The sky blackened in the north and stars appeared to the east. The moon had not yet risen, but there were clouds blowing in over them and Zak knew they would likely see little of it during the night.

“Let’s ride,” Zak said. “From now on, every minute counts.”

Scofield and Rivers walked to their horses. Colleen lingered. She put a hand on Zak’s arm. There was a tenderness to her touch that stirred something inside him.

“I hope your plan works, Zak. For Ted’s sake.”

“Can you ride all night without falling off your horse, Colleen? We’ve a ways to go.”

“Zak, I would ride anywhere with you. I want you to know that.”

She squeezed his arm and moved closer to him. She tilted her head and he gazed down at her face. He could barely see it, but it seemed to him that her lips puckered slightly. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. She fell against him and he felt her trembling.

“I think I’m…”

He broke away, put a finger on her lips.

“Don’t say it, Colleen. Not yet. Wait.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and he watched her walk away toward her horse.

He climbed onto Nox and took the lead, the others following close behind.

In the distance he heard the murmur of thunder, and when he looked back over his shoulder, he could see flashes of lightning in the black clouds. He rode into the darkness, thinking of Trask and how he had murdered his father. There would be a day of reckoning, he knew, for Trask and for him.

Then there was that blood sky of that morning. It carried a portent of much more than a storm. He took it as an omen, and he knew that was the Indian in him. Superstition. It could guide a man or defeat him. But the sky always spoke with a straight tongue.

There would be blood spilled on the morrow.

And the rain would wash it all back into the earth.

A coyote broke the stillness with its querulous call, its voice rising up and down the scale in a melodious and lonesome chant that was almost as old as the earth itself.

Nox whickered, and Zak patted him on the neck.

He felt his blood quicken and run hot.

“Trask,” he whispered to himself, “I’m coming for you, you bastard.”

Zak and his horse were shadows moving across the dark land. Shadows as true and ominous as the bloody sunrise of that very morning.

Again the coyote called, but it was different this time.

The call came from a human throat.

An Apache throat.