Down Mexico Way by Drew McGunn

Author:Drew McGunn [McGunn, Drew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

27 April 1843

Shards of rock rained down on Jesse Running Creek’s head as he ducked behind a boulder. He swore as he wiped his face and saw streaks of red on his hand. His face stung where the bits of rock had cut him. His teammate, Jethro Elkins crouched beside him. He wore a sardonic expression. “You still think we’ll cut through the Mexican rear guard, Jess?”

Dabbing his face with a once-white handkerchief, the young Cherokee glowered at his fellow Ranger. “As I recall, I said that we’d make good time if Almonte’s army hightails it back to Monterrey. This don’t look anything like ‘hightailing’ it to me.”

Elkins pulled on his luxuriant, brown mustache and chuckled quietly. “If that ain’t an understatement, I don’t know what is.”

Jesse nodded. Six days had passed since the army had defeated the Mexicans at Candela. Six days and only thirty miles. Efforts to find a way around the Mexican line of retreat had, as of yet, gone nowhere. Major Hays had taken one of the other special Ranger companies and had yet to return from scouting a northern route.

He chanced a look around the boulder and saw a stone outcropping nearby. He checked his rifle and confirmed the percussion cap was still snugly set then he sprinted toward the outcropping’s shelter.

A puff of wind breezed by his face and bullets zinged off the rocky ground as he ran. Despite furtive glances down the rock-lined gorge, he couldn’t see where the shots were coming from. Seconds later, Elkins landed beside him. The other Ranger drew ragged breaths, matching his own labored breathing as they sheltered behind the stone outcropping.

He thrust his rifle around the ledge then jutted his head around in time to see a blue-jacketed soldado scampering across the stony ground. Jesse snugged the rifle butt against his shoulder and fired at the retreating figure. The bullet shattered against the gorge’s rocky wall, bathing the Mexican in a shower of stone shards. As Jesse reloaded, he felt no satisfaction at paying back the enemy rifleman in kind.

A pat on his shoulder warned him that Elkins was moving past, running across the uneven ground. He made it to the place where the soldado had disappeared. No bullets tore at the ground around the Ranger. Jesse exhaled noisily. The cat and mouse hunting between the Texian vanguard and the Mexican rearguard was playing hell on his nerves.

He turned and called out, “Hey, Corporal! This vale is clear of Mexicans. Me and Ranger Elkins will move out and see if we can find the sons of bitches that have been shooting at us for the past hour.”

Without waiting for confirmation, Jesse bolted after Elkins. As his boots pounded down the rocky path, he had to admit to himself the tactics the army used were saving lives, even if the process was slow. His team of four Rangers were part of five rifle-teams made up of half a company of Rangers. Of the four men in his team, one was back a few hundred yards, holding the reins of their horses.

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