The Petticoat War by Terrell Bowers

Author:Terrell Bowers [Bowers, Terrell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robert Hale LTD
Published: 2017-05-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Cholo waved his men to cover, scooting up next to an outcrop of rocks to assume his own position. As they had left at daybreak, they were first to reach the pass. It saved them the long ride around the canyon and being forced to sneak up on the ambushers. This way, they were able to set their own trap. He looked around, satisfied everyone had a good field of fire.

Basada watched Cholo and the others get ready. He and Nalda were the last to take cover, moving to a huge boulder that offered them both protection, while still providing them with a front-row seat to the action.

'They're coming!' Nalda said, the excitement inflecting her voice.

Basada nodded, looking up the canyon. He wondered again about the woman at his side. She and her brother were as cold-blooded as any two people he had ever met. For Basada, this was a profession, a way to make a living, stealing, looting, trading in weapons or livestock, even selling women and children into slavery. But Nalda and her brother – they did it for fun, for the thrill of terrorizing people and even killing them. What he did was necessity, but for them, it had always been the joy of inflicting pain. He knew little of their upbringing, but both had scarred backs from a brutal childhood. Perhaps the usual compassion and conscience had been beaten out of them. Both lived life as a game of chance, taking partners at a saloon or during drunken parties, but neither of them had ever been in a serious relationship with anyone but each other. No, they were not incestuous, but the only love they had for humankind was in the form of brother-sister, never for a lover or mate. Even then, Nalda had not shed a tear when the body of Motaga was brought in. It was not grief she demonstrated over his loss, only rage that someone had dared kill him.

Basada himself would one day take a woman of his own, but he would first make his fortune. That was something he had in common with Steve Kannon – both of them wanted to be wealthy, before settling down to a home, a wife, and maybe children.

Cholo held up his hand. It was the signal for the others to wait for him to open fire. He had an uncanny patience. No matter what the situation, he was not trigger-happy or reckless – probably the reason he and the others had not killed the stranger. Cholo worked to gain the advantage, before he committed himself to a fight. Watching him, he knew the man's skill was superior to his own. Cholo would know when the approaching riders were the most vulnerable. The men coming to the pass were few, and they were in the open and exposed. With the concentration of firepower from Basada's men, they would devastate the unwary troop.

Closer they came, the one-armed leader looking a bit nervous, searching the hills with curious eyes.

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