Hell for Leather

“What are we doing?” she finally asked after several minutes of silent observation.

“Waiting.” answered Zeke. It was the first thing he had said since they had come back from the river. After another several minutes’ worth of silence, Helen resumed her questioning.

“Waiting for what?” Zeke didn’t answer. Helen looked him over. “Don’t be angry.” she admonished gently, “Just tell me what they’re doing.” Zeke sighed. Arguing with her was pointless, especially when she was right. He was angry, he just couldn’t say why.

“We’re waiting for an opportunity.”

“How do you mean? An opportunity for what?”

“We don’t want to just ride down there, guns ablazing if we don’t have to. The girls are safe. I’ve got them in my sights. No reason to hurry. If they send even one fella out for supplies, then that’s one less gun for me to worry about.”

“Then what?”

“I told you, I’ll try to get them talking, then when I’ve found the girl, I’ll make my move. You take that little belt pistol and just start firing. The noise will distract them. I’ll keep Alaine near me. If we get separated, you take the other girls and head over those hills to the other side of the glen. I’ll cover you.”

“Then what?”

“Worry about surviving the first part before you start making a fuss about the after part.” The seriousness of the situation began to dawn on Helen. Someone was going to die today. Possibly Zeke. Possibly her. She had never been confronted with such a grim scenario. The attack on the train had happened so quickly, she didn’t have time to think. Now, lying quietly on the ground surrounded by silence, it seemed strange to think that this stillness would soon be pierced by gunshots and this idyllic green valley would be stained with blood.

“Zeke,” she said after some time, “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Zeke was still looking through the spyglass.

“Nothing.” said Helen after a moment. Zeke took his eye out of the spyglass and looked at her.

“It’s all right to be afraid.” he told her, “It happens to everyone.”

“Not you.” she countered.

“Of course it does.”

“What are you afraid of?” he turned his attention back to the camp.

“Lots of things.” he finally said. Helen was curious and wanted to know more, but pressing him to talk about his fears at this particular moment seemed like bad form if not bad luck, so she kept quiet.

For a very long time, they did not move. Helen marveled at Zeke’s discipline. Every few seconds it seemed she needed to shift her weight or scratch an itch. In fact, the more she concentrated on not moving, the more impossible it became. Beside her though, Zeke was motionless. She wanted to talk, wanted to know what he was thinking, but she did not ask. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the sound of the wind and the birds, anything to take her mind off what might happen soon. Some part of her wanted to believe that it would be all right, that the silence would be unbroken and Death would play no part in this day, that at a given time, she and Zeke would simply stand up and ride away. She knew it was folly. Zeke was so focused on his goal that he didn’t seem to blink.

From what Helen could tell, nothing had moved in the camp for some time. The women sat, still blindfolded and the men mostly just lounged about. The day was wearing on.

“If it gets dark and nothing happens,” said Zeke, “we’ll try to sneak down there and do it quick while they’re sleeping.” This plan appealed to Helen and she hoped it would come to that. Nice and quiet. She was busy picturing a successful escape when she noticed a lone rider approaching the camp from the other direction. The men in the camp began to move, forcing the women to stand up in a line, still bound and blindfolded.

“What’s going on?” whispered Helen, “Who is that?” Zeke was still peering through his spyglass.

“Don’t know.” he said, “Maybe a fella come to buy a girl, or hopefully all of them.”

“Why is that good?”

“Then we could just follow him and shoot him when he’s out of sight of the camp.”

“You would shoot him?”

“Any man buying and selling women ain’t got no claim on life. I’ll kill every last one of them to get back home.” This kind of violence scared Helen. How could he be at once so protective and so dangerous? It was a mindset she could not understand.

Together they watched as the rider entered the camp. He was well dressed, but that was all they could tell about him being as they were some six hundred yards away. He dismounted and approached one of the men. They did not shake hands but seemed to know one another. After a short conversation, they walked to the line of women and the lone rider examined each, one by one. There were eight, not seven as Helen had originally figured. She wondered how she had missed one. When they had looked all the women over, the rider turned to leave. The man from the camp grabbed his arm and a heated discussion ensued. The other men in the camp begin to converge around them as they argued.

“What’s happening?” asked Alaine.

“I have not a clue,” answered Zeke grimly, “but it don’t look good.” After a few minutes, the well-dressed rider removed what looked like a small purse from his pocket and emptied what Helen presumed to be coins into his hand. Before handing them to the other man, he pointed animatedly the direction that Helen and Zeke lay hiding. What were they doing? The well-dressed man turned back, mounted his horse and started off in the direction from which he had come.

The men of the camp gathered around one another in a small discussion that ended when the leader made a dismissive gesture with his arm. A few of the men could be heard whooping and hollering as they began pawing at the girls and throwing them on the ground.

“Goddamnit.” said Zeke to no one in particular. Below, they were tearing clothes and removing belts. One of the women, overcome with fear, took flight and ran as fast as she could being blindfolded with her hands tied behind her. A large man calmly drew his pistol and shot her in the back. Helen saw this happen. Saw the smoke from his gun, and watched the girl fall dead and then the sound of the shot echoed around her ears.

“Goddamnit.” repeated Zeke, looking down the sights of his formidable rifle. The mighty blast of the weapon shocked her eardrums and she opened her eyes just in time to see the ball strike the murderer in his right shoulder, spinning him like a top and dropping him to the ground.

The entire encampment froze like a demented tableau. Taking the advantage, Zeke drew a bead on another of the outlaws and fired again. This time, he hit his target square in the chest and blew him clear off the girl he was trying to assault.

Suddenly, all of the men dove for cover leaving the women terrified. Shots rang out from pistol and rifle. Zeke knew that if he continued to fire, they would soon know his exact location, but he was not worried. They had lost the advantage of surprise but still had the advantage of range. Only Zeke’s rifle the cover that distance.

Calmly, he set about picking his targets. He couldn’t see the men, but their horses were sitting ducks. He aimed. Fired. A horse dropped. Aimed again. Fired. Another dead horse. By this time, one of the girls had freed her hands and removed her blindfold. Gallantly, she quickly did the same for the rest and they all started running as fast as they could towards the other side of the valley.

The men in the camp paid them no mind, concentrating as they were on hurling lead in Zeke’s direction. He could see their ineffectual rounds hitting the dirt yards and yards before reaching his position.

“They’re going to make it!” cried Helen, knowing that the girls were unwittingly running towards the town and safety. She watched as one of the men mounted his horse and started after them. “Zeke, help them!” Zeke swung his rifle in their direction and fired. Nothing. The rider was getting closer. Zeke aimed again and fired, this time striking the horse which fell violently, tossing its rider who would not be easily stopped. He began chasing the women on foot and firing his pistol at them, luckily hitting nothing. Zeke fired, his shot hitting the ground in front of the pursuer. When Zeke’s next shot nearly caught his knee, the man smartly turned back and took cover behind the horse. “You did it!” Helen exclaimed. Zeke said nothing but turned his attention back to the camp.

“Take this.” he said handing Helen the rifle, “If they move, shoot ’em.”

“I can’t hit them from here.”

“They don’t know that.” he said, crawling back from the ridge and standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to get those girls.” he said, checking his weapons.

“But you saved them. It’s done.”

“No.” said Zeke, “It ain’t done. I have to find this English girl. I have to bring her back. If I don’t, then this is all for nothing.”

“But there are armed men between you and them.”

“Then I’ll kill ’em.”

“But you’re outnumbered.” cried Helen, “They’ll kill you.”

“We’ll see.” replied Zeke, slinging his leg over his horse. Helen clambered away from the ridge so she could stand.

“Wait, Zeke, I must tell you something.”

“Now ain’t the time, Helen.” Zeke turned his horse away from her and made to leave.

“My name’s not Helen.” she said, “It’s Alaine.” Her Boston accent disappeared, instantly replaced with a crisp British pronunciation. Zeke paused and looked her over.

“That’s a neat trick, Helen.” he said, “and I’m touched that your worried, but I have to go.”

“It’s true.” she cried, the tears in her eyes seemed somehow convincing. Zeke didn’t know what to do.

“Horseshit.” he said, “Alaine had a locket.” She reached into the pockets of her trousers.

“It’s here. I hid it when the train was attacked. I thought they would take it.”

“Give it here.” ordered Zeke. She tossed it to him. It was small and silver. He opened it to find a small tin type of a woman who looked like an older version of the girl he’d been calling ‘Helen.’ “Who gave this to you?”

“My mother.” she answered with tears still on her cheeks. Zeke turned the locket over in his hand. The inscription read, “AMY, my poppet.”

“Who is a Amy?” he demanded.

“Those are my initials. Alaine Maureen Yates.” Anger erupted in Zeke’s chest as he realized she was telling the truth. He jumped down from his horse and stormed over to her.

“Are you out of your goddamned mind?” he yelled, “You have any idea how much danger you put yourself in? We could have both been killed! What the hell were you thinking?”

“You said if it weren’t for me, you would let those girls die. I wanted you to save them!”

“Goddamnit.” snarled Zeke, grabbing her by the arm, “Get on the horse.” Helen/Alaine jerked her arm free.

“No.” she snapped, “Make sure those girls are safe.” Zeke picked her up over his shoulder and tossed her across the saddle, all the while with her kicking and fighting. He mounted and steered his horse back up to the ridge. The girls had nearly reached the other side and no one was pursuing them.

“They’re already safe.” he said and seeing that he was right, she stopped fighting. They could both see the men in the camp slowly making their way up to their position. “We need to get out of here.” said Zeke and the two of them made tracks as fast as they could.