The Kalispell Run

Chapter Five

Hickok’s reflexes were panther quick. The barrel of the Henry swept around and the long gun boomed, the slug catching his assailant in the chest and flipping him backward, arresting his momentum, causing him to fall to the ground at Hickok’s feet. Another figure sprang from the leafy tree, and Hickok smoothly danced to one side. The gunman rammed the barrel of the Henry into the stomach of his attacker while the man was still in midair.

The second assailant grunted and tumbled to the grass at the side of the trail. He was armed with a knife, and he clutched it in his right fist as he went to rise and renew his assault.

The barrel of the Henry was jammed into his left cheek. “Make one move, pard, and you’ll have a lot of trouble eating your food from now on. Drop that knife!”

The man froze in a sitting up position. He dropped the knife.

Hickok stepped in front of his prisoner. “Any more of you hereabouts?”

The man vigorously shook his head.

“I hope so, for your sake,” Hickok informed him. “If I hear so much as a twig snap, I’ll blow your brains out.”

The man was gaping in horror at the barrel of the Henry, now positioned at the tip of his bulbous nose.

Hickok studied the captive. He was in his thirties and had brown hair and brown eyes. His narrow face was clean shaven, but dirty. In fact, his entire body was covered with a fine layer of dust. He wore shabby clothes, crudely patched together at the seams, black pants, and a grimy gray shirt missing all the buttons.

“This one is dead,” Sherry announced. She was kneeling next to the first attacker, holding his limp left wrist in her right hand. “I can’t find a pulse.”

“You want to wind up like your friend here?” Hickok asked, tapping the Henry barrel against the man’s nose.

The captive gulped. “Sure don’t, mister!”

“Good. Roll over and lie on your stomach, your hands above your head, and cross your legs. Do it!”

The prisoner immediately obeyed.

“Good.” Hickok scanned the area, but the woods were quiet and peaceful. He relaxed slightly, knowing the man on the ground could not possibly reach him before receiving a bullet in the brain. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” he stated. “You will answer right away, without taking time to think. If you hesitate, I’ll shoot you in the head. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“If you move your arms or legs, I’ll shoot you in the head. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“If I get the impression you’re lying, guess what happens?”

“You shoot me in the head!” the prisoner said in a high, squeaky voice.

“Good. We have a mutual understanding. According to this wise man I know, name of Plato, that’s the best kind of relationship to have. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir!”

“You don’t have the slightest damn idea of what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No, sir!”

Hickok heard Sherry laugh.

“What’s your name?” Hickok asked.

“Silvester.”

“Where you from, Silvester?”

“I’m from the Mound, sir.”

Hickok squatted on his haunches. “Look at me,” he ordered.

Silvester complied, his eyes wide and fearful.

“What’s the Mound?” Hickok inquired.

“It’s where we live.”

“We?”

“My people. The others call us the Moles.”

Hickok glanced at Sherry. She shrugged and shook her head, indicating she was also confused.

“What were you doing here?” Hickok continued his interrogation.

“Wolfe sent us to see where the Trolls came from,” Silvester answered.

“The Trolls? You’re friends of the Trolls?”

“Friends?” Despite his situation, Silvester chuckled. “No, not friends. We were sent to see if any were still alive.”

Hickok tensed. “Explain. Tell me everything.”

“We ambushed the Trolls and killed most of them,” Silvester went on, unaware of the impact his words were having on the gunman. “We took some prisoners. They told us about Fox, the town they came from. They said they were getting out of this area, trying to get away from some fierce people called the Family, I think. The Trolls were looking for a new home when our scouts found their camp. We snuck up on them during the night, because no one can see in the dark like us. They never knew what hit them!”

“And you slaughtered most of them?” Hickok probed, uncertain whether he should feel relieved the Trolls were dead or mad because his revenge was being denied.

“Most of them, yes,” Silvester acknowledged. “Like I said, we took some prisoners. About fifteen, I think. Eleven Trolls, three women, and the strange one.”

“Strange one? Who’s the strange one?” Hickok questioned the Mole.

“We don’t know,” Silvester responded. “He won’t tell us his name, no matter what we do to him. He was captured by the Trolls first. We found him when we sacked their camp. The Trolls told us he was one of the Family.”

Hickok reacted as if jolted by an electric current. He grabbed Silvester and lifted his shoulders several inches off the ground. “Describe him to me,” he growled.

Silvester cringed. “He’s not much more than a kid. Can’t even be twenty yet. Wears black clothes. I don’t know much else! Honest!” He detected a gleam in Hickok’s eyes and tried to pull away. “Honest! Wolfe is holding him in the cells. That’s all I know!”

“Who is this Wolfe?” Hickok asked harshly.

“Wolfe is our leader.”

“Where is this Mound of yours?” Hickok demanded.

“About fifty miles southeast of here,” Silvester replied. “Why?”

Hickok slowly stood, his brow creased. Shane probably dogged the Trolls, trying to learn where they would settle next, and was captured.

Then, when these Moles almost wiped out the Trolls, Shane fell into their hands. Terrific! He walked over to Sherry.

“The one in black he talked about,” Sherry commented. “Isn’t he the one you’re looking for?”

“Sure is.” Hickok nodded at Silvester. “I’m going to this Mound and free Shane.”

“Just like that?” Sherry interrupted.

“Just like that. There’s no need for you to go along, though. Could be dangerous. You’ve got the Glenfield. Think you could find your way to Sundown?”

“I don’t know,” Sherry answered. “I might be able to do it.”

“Well, you can either head for Sundown,” Hickok said, detailing her options, “or you can travel due west until you run into the Family. Tell them I sent you and they’ll make you welcome. Or, if you want, you can stay in Fox until I return. It’s up to you.”

“You’ve overlooked one choice,” Sherry said.

“What’s that?”

“I can come with you.”

“No way,” Hickok disagreed. “Sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I told you. It could be dangerous. I’ll be traveling hard and fast…”

“I can keep up,” she promised.

“…and I might not be able to protect you if we have a scrape or two.”

“I can take care of myself,” Sherry stated. “And you’ll need someone to cover your back.”

“I don’t need anyone to cover my back,” Hickok retorted.

“Is that right?” she asked, grinning.

“That’s right,” Hickok confirmed.

“The male ego!” Sherry laughed. “Well, Mr. High and Mighty, if you don’t need anyone to cover your back, I guess you don’t need me to tell you your prisoner is getting away.”

“What?” Hickok spun, bringing the Henry level. Sure enough. Silvester was ten yards away and crawling for all he was worth. “One more inch,” Hickok warned him, “and you’ll be growing roots in your chest!”

Silvester stopped and glanced sheepishly over his right shoulder.

“Back here, now!” Hickok barked.

Silvester turned and crawled to his original position.

Sherry was snickering. “Still think you don’t need me?”

Hickok glared at the Mole. “Sneeze, and you’re dead!” He looked at Sherry. “You know, I asked you once before if you were eager to return to Sundown and you never answered me. Now you’ve got a rifle and ammunition, enough to see you safely home. And yet you seem reluctant to go. Why?”

Sherry avoided his riveting gaze. “Maybe,” she said softly, “I was bored to tears in Sundown. Maybe this is the most excitement I’ve ever had.

Maybe I think I’ve found something here worth sticking around for.”

“Just like that?” Hickok marveled at her honesty.

“Just like that!” Sherry threw his earlier response back at him.

“Women!” Hickok said in exasperation. “And you talk about the male ego!”

“I’m going with you,” Sherry vowed.

“What about the Trolls?” Hickok inquired.

“What about them?”

“For crying out loud, woman, they raped you!” he snapped savagely.

Sherry recoiled from the violence in his tone, stunned. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m okay. Really. I hated what they did to me. I loathed it! I wanted to kill them if I could! I’ll probably bear the emotional scar the remainder of my life. But except for some bruises, they didn’t hurt me physically. They were saving me for more fun. At least, they were until right before you arrived. I heard them say they were going to kill me.”

“I’m glad I killed them,” Hickok declared.

“So am I.” Sherry smiled hopefully. “So the argument is over and I’m going with you, right?”

“I don’t know,” Hickok hedged.

“I can help you,” she stated. “I’m a good shot. I won’t get in your way. You can trust me.”

“I don’t trust very many people,” Hickok admitted.

“Give me a chance,” Sherry urged him.

“You sure are spunky. I’ll give you that,” Hickok conceded.

“Is that good?” Sherry queried him.

“I like spunk in a woman,” Hickok revealed.

Sherry smiled and gently placed her right hand on his arm. “Then that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Let’s hear it for spunk!”

Hickok realized Silvester was staring at them, grinning. He aimed the Henry at the Mole. “And just what are you looking at?”

Silvester buried his face in the grass.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Sherry pointed out.

Hickok frowned and sighed. “I hope I don’t live to regret my decision, but…”

Sherry squealed in delight and twirled completely around.

“Wait a minute before you get all excited,” Hickok said. “There are some conditions.”

“Such as?”

“You do what I tell you,” Hickok informed her, “when I tell you. Agreed?”

“Yes, master!”

“Don’t be smart! If I tell you to stay put, you’ll obey me?”

“Till death do us part,” she pledged, giggling.

“Be serious! We could face life-and-death situations, and I want to minimize the risks. I need complete compliance with any order I give…”

“That could be fun!”

“…with no questions asked,” he finished.

“May I ask a question?” she inquired.

Hickok lowered his head and sighed. “What?”

“Does this compliance include after we make camp for the night?”

Hickok impatiently began tapping his right toe. “There you go again!”

“I’m spunky, remember?” she reminded him.

Hickok walked over to the prone Mole. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew,” he mumbled.

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Silvester commented, his voice muffled because his face was pressed against the grass, “I think you’re right!”