Seed of Evil

Chapter Twenty-six

From atop a grassy knoll, Geist stared back the way they had come and vented his temper in a fit of lurid swearing. “He can’t have gotten them both. They weren’t you, but they were capable.”

“They should have caught up to us by now,” Petrie said.

“I know, I know.” Geist glared at the three Crow women on their mounts. Suddenly, without any hint of what he was about to do, he drew a flintlock and shot Lavender in the face. She toppled to the grass, twitched a few times, and went limp.

Raven On The Ground was horror-struck. Flute Girl was too stunned to react.

“That’ll give the damn breed something to think about,” Geist said.

“Might make him mad.”

“Good. When a man’s mad, he’s more likely to make mistakes.” Geist commenced to reload. “Now that it’s just the two of us, we need every edge we can get.”

Petrie cradled his rifle. “Leave me and go on. I’ll pick them off and catch up.”

“Them?” Geist said, and swore. “That’s right. I forgot about Chases Rabbits. King probably freed him.” He shook his head. “But no. I want you by my side. When it comes time, we’ll do it together.”

“I can hold them so you can get away.”

“I said no. You’ve been with me from the beginning. The rest were hired help, but you’re more.”

“Together then,” Petrie agreed.

Geist shoved the reloaded pistol into place on his hip. He snagged the lead rope to the women’s horses and used his heels on his own.

Mile after endless mile of grass and occasional flowers unfolded before them. They passed buffalo wallows and prairie dog towns, and antelope that bounded off in incredible leaps.

Geist hardly noticed. He was thinking of one thing and one thing only—how to kill Zach King. His trick with the sod hadn’t worked, and his trick with the brambles hadn’t worked. Now he needed a new trick, the best yet, a trick to ensure that Zach King breathed his last.

The terrain changed. Low rolling hills, some eroded into bluffs, were crisscrossed by washes. Stands of trees were plentiful, the grass high and thick.

Geist studied his surroundings with interest. From the top of any of the bluffs, a man could see a good long way. “I’m getting an idea.”

Petrie followed his gaze. “Put me up there?” Geist nodded. “Where would you be?”

“Down low with a distraction.”

“And the women?”

“They’re the distraction. I could shoot them like I did the other one, but once we’ve disposed of King, we’ll want to celebrate.”

“I don’t do redskins.”

“A female is a female.”

“Not if she has red skin.”

“Didn’t you lose your grandfather to some Creeks? Is that why you hate them so much?”

“I hate them because they’re different. They look different. They smell different. They think different. They act different. Andy Jackson had it right. Throw them on reservations or exterminate them. When the last red man is gone, I’ll give a whoop and a holler.”

“That’s the most you’ve talked in a month of Sundays.”

“I don’t keep track.” Petrie looked at him. “We can’t let Zach King get the best of us.”

“We won’t.”

Geist went on searching for the ideal spot. They came around a hill and before them was exactly what he was looking for—a bluff with clefts wide enough to hide a grown man. Thick woods fringed the sides, and trees grew in profusion at the top. “Do you see what I see?”

“It’s perfect,” Petrie agreed.

Geist rode to the base of the bluff and dismounted. The women stared at him apprehensively. It tickled him, having them at his mercy. He inspected the clefts. One had a lip wide enough for him to stand behind and not be seen. “God is on our side,” he joked.

“Don’t jinx it,” Petrie said.

Geist stepped to the horses and grinned up at Raven On The Ground and Flute Girl. “Ladies—and I use the word loosely—it’s time you did more than sit there like lumps. I need to distract Zach King and you are made to order.” He reached up and hauled Raven On The Ground off and steadied her on her feet. She stood uncertainly, unsure what he wanted.

“I’m going to enjoy this part.” Geist chuckled and reached for her dress. She panicked and tried to run, but he was on her before she took more than a couple of steps. She screamed as he hauled her down.

Chases Rabbits simmered with rage and liked it, which surprised him. All Crow children were taught that anger was wrong. For a Crow to give in to it and strike another Crow, or for a parent to strike a child, was considered the worst behavior. So it surprised him that he liked being mad so much. He savored it, as he might savor a kiss from Raven On The Ground. He yearned to count coup on the whites who had taken her, and to redeem himself in her eyes.

Then they came upon the unthinkable.

Nate King was in the lead, tracking. Drawing quick rein, he said, “Dear God, no.”

Zach was next. His countenance conveyed what his silence did not.

Blaze stopped and sniffed.

Chases Rabbits was almost on top of the sprawled body before he saw it. That it was a woman was obvious. It wasn’t big enough to be Flute Girl. It had to be one of the other two.

“No!” Chases Rabbits cried. Vaulting down, he rolled the body over. “Lavender,” he said, relieved.

“They shot her in the face,” Nate said. “Must have been near point-blank range. Look at the powder burns.”

Chases Rabbits didn’t care about that. All he cared about was that it wasn’t Raven On The Ground. He felt guilty for being so glad. “Why they kill her?”

“Their kind don’t need an excuse,” Zach said. “Maybe it’s to get back at us for Dryfus, Gratt, and Berber.”

A new fear coursed through Chases Rabbits. “Maybe they kill Raven On The Ground, too.”

“They haven’t yet,” Nate said, “or we’d have come across her body.”

“We must hurry,” Chases Rabbits urged, and was on his pinto and trotting to the east. The Kings came up on either side.

“Better slow down,” Zach warned. “This could be just what they want.”

“For us to rush after them into their gun sights,” Nate added.

“Me not care,” Chases Rabbits declared.

“You should if you love her. We’re her only hope.”

Every fiber of his being screamed for him to ride like the wind, but Chases Rabbits slowed the pinto to a walk. “There. Happy?”

“Don’t take it out on us,” Zach said. “We didn’t steal your one and only.”

Chases Rabbits had not sulked since he was small, but he sulked now. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

A series of hills appeared, broken by bluffs and patches of woods. They spooked a few deer, but Chases Rabbits hardly noticed. In his mind, he saw only Raven On The Ground’s face, floating in the air and beckoning him to hurry. “Me kill Geist for this,” he vowed.

“You’ll have to get in line,” Zach said.

Chases Rabbits refused to be denied his coup. “Him not take your woman. Him take mine.”

“We all have a stake in this,” Nate said. “The mountains are our home. Anyone who poses a danger to one of us is a threat to all.”

Chases Rabbits had to think for the right word. “This personal.”

“I get the chance, he’s dead,” Zach said.

A bluff reared ahead, its face split by cracks.

Nate reined up. “Do you see what I see?”

“What?” Chases Rabbits asked.

Zach produced his spyglass. He trained it on the bluff, and swore.

“What?” Chases Rabbits said a second time.

“Take a gander,” Zach said, handing him the brass tube. “But keep hold of yourself.”

“What you mean?” Chases Rabbits asked, and pressed the spyglass to his eye.

“Turn it a bit if you can’t see clearly.”

Chases Rabbits saw a blur. He fiddled with the end, and the bluff came into focus. So did the two figures wedged into cracks, their long hair loose and spilling over their shoulders. It was Raven On The Ground and Flute Girl. They were bound and naked.