Comanche Carnage by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Westerns, Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, General Fiction
Publisher: Lobo Publications
Published: 2014-08-23T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The night became colder as it grew older towards the dawning of a new day. But the moon stayed bright in the cloudless sky and there was not a hint of movement in the chill air. The horizon remained far distant in every direction and the two men rode easily, without concern about a surprise attack. They were well advanced towards their initial objective of the Anson ranch now and the vast flat-land country of the Llano Estacado’s northern section offered few opportunities to conceal a large band of kill-hungry Comanches.

Steele had donned his sheepskin coat, with the collar turned up to brush against the underside of his hat brim. Rigby had put on a calf-length coat which buttoned high to his throat. He wore his gun belt outside it.

There was no conversation until the Anson ranch came into sight in the far distance. Then, ‘That’s it,’ Rigby said.

‘I reckon,’ the Virginian answered.

‘Will you be able to track at night?’

‘Maybe, if I tried.’

Rigby looked sharply at Steele. ‘What d’you mean, if?’

‘We both need sleep.’

‘But what about Rachel and the Indians?’ Anger quivered his tone.

‘She’s been with them for twenty-four hours and more - if she’s still with them. And don’t ask me what I mean with that “if”, feller. When we find the Comanches, we’d both better be rested. Or it won’t matter if she’s still with them or not.’

Rigby thought about this for a minute or so. Then, ‘If I had my way, we’d keep on going, Steele.’

‘Glad you brought that up,’ the Virginian said. ‘About time we talked about the conditions attached to this job.’

Rigby scowled. ‘You’re the expert,’ he growled. ‘I figured to let you do it your way.’

‘That’s one condition, feller. Other one is that I get paid however it turns out.’

The scowl grew in bitterness. ‘Dead or alive, like they say in the wanted bills,’ the younger man allowed. ‘I figured that, too.’

Steele showed a cold grin as they neared the ravaged buildings of the Anson ranch. ‘As a man to work for, you’ve got your good points, feller,’ he said, reining in his horse and swinging from the saddle. He drew the rifle from the boot as part of the action, never taking his steady gaze off the dark buildings two hundred yards along the trail.

‘Trouble?’ Rigby hissed, his own eyes showing anxiety as he surveyed the unlit house, barn and stable.

‘Pays off in extra living time to be ready for it,’ the Virginian answered.

But there were no gunshots as the two men entered the yard, one riding and one leading his horse. Nothing moved except the newcomers. The door of the stable was still open after the Indian ponies had wandered away. Perhaps anxious to get clear of the smell of burning, a trace of which still clung to the chill air. But more likely to escape the stronger stench which rose from the decomposing corpses of the Comanche braves. The bodies at the front of the house and in the yard

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