The Serpent and the Elephant, Part 2
Geographically, Emma didn't have a clue as to her whereabouts, but by the location of the sun, she knew they were heading south. Her legs and feet ached; she wished Gibbons had stolen a horse. "Don't need no horses where we're headin'," he had said just before slapping her for "sassing" him. Her hatred towards him had simmered. Her will to fight had been replaced by exhaustion and fear for the survival of her unborn baby. Why had Gibbons abducted her instead of one of the younger, prettier girls? Certainly, they would have made for easier prey and a faster getaway. Whatever his reasoning, Emma was certain now that it was personal and she was a mark for something larger and sinister.
That's when she realized that he wanted both her and the baby--dead or alive.
She slowly tore more strips of cloth from her ratty sleeves and let a piece of fabric fall to the ground in front of her. She had been leaving a trail from the grove, and each time she had released a piece of her dress, she had held her breath in fear that Gibbons would notice. Again he said nothing, so again she breathed a quick sigh of relief.
She wondered if her rescuers--if there were any--would find her in time.
They descended the mountain until they came to a grassy valley. Birds burst away from scattered brush, and Emma had to step carefully to avoid treading on a small scorpion that scurried past her. Her heart was racing and she knew she had to be careful now if she intended on seeing Daniel again. It was imperative that Gibbons not see the fear she fought to keep under control.
The vegetation around them thickened, and ahead of them was a cleared area that prompted Gibbons to let out a sigh of relief. It was a watering hole.
He turned to Emma and gestured with the gun. "You first."
She went to the water and knelt down before it. The rips in her dress exposed more skin than she would have liked, but at this point there was no use getting overly concerned about such things. She cupped her hands, scooped up water and brought it to her lips, sipping gingerly and being careful not to take the big gulps that her impulses urged.
He frowned as he watched her. "You drink like a bird."
"There's no point in overdoing it," she replied evenly. "The result will simply be stomach cramps if I do. I see no advantage to that."
"Fine," he grumbled as he pointed the pistol at her. "Just be quick about it 'fore I get really sick of you sassin' me again."
She looked at her reflection in the water and moaned softly. She was tiring of her captivity and fearing for the baby. Pain had developed in her lower abdomen and the weight of the baby was pulling at her back. The pain at both places was intensifying.
"I said to hurry up ," he growled.
She shoved her hands in once more and attempted to wash away as much of the dirt on her face as possible.
After one more pass of the water over her face, she rose and pointed to the water. "All yours."
He gestured for her to step away. He crouched in front of the water, scooped some up to his mouth and drank. Then he washed the cool water over his face. That's when Emma kicked him in the small of the back.
With a yell, Gibbons toppled forward, wet soil slipping beneath him, and he fell headfirst into the water.
Surprised by what she had done, Emma stared as Gibbons thrashed in the water. Then she bolted.
Gibbons sputtered in indignation as he lurched to his feet and roared Emma's name in a frenzy. He even fired his pistol blindly at the hillside she was running up and came within inches of putting a bullet through the back of her head.
She made it to an outcropping of rock and scrambled to get away. She knew she had to distance herself from Gibbons at an increasing rate if she expected to elude him. Her back screamed from the weight of the baby, but she was banking on the idea that her youth would help her create enough distance to keep from being shot. That's when she dodged to the left and twisted an ankle. She fell forward, catching herself by hitting her palms against the ground. Pain stabbed through her forearms.
Between the noise of boot heels against stone and his loud and constant string of profanity, she heard his pursuit getting closer and closer.
She rolled over and felt her ankle. It was sore but didn't seem broken. She scrambled to her feet and kept going, hobbling until the pain lessened and returned to her back. Then she was over the top and heading down the other side.
Abruptly the ground in front of her angled upward sharply. She'd come to the base of some sort of small slope. It would take her more time to make her way up it, but backtracking wasn't possible. She took a deep breath and started upward. Small outcroppings of rock provided her with handholds that helped her toward the top.
But they did not help her nearly enough as they shifted and fell away. Suddenly she heard a triumphant yell from behind her. She tried to climb higher, but a hand wrapped around her foot.
"Got you, you bitch!" growled Gibbons.
She screamed; her fingers clawing for some kind of support, but he dragged her down toward him and spun her around so that his face was mere inches from hers. "You've been far more trouble than I can stand," he snarled, "and I'm gonna ..."
In her palm, she felt the hardness and sharpness of the rock she'd grabbed mere moments before. She didn't hesitate as she brought it around and slammed it into Gibbons's forehead.
He shrieked, a high-pitched sound, as blood trickled down his face. Emma, animalistic, fighting for her life and the life of her unborn child, twisted the rock around and tried to drive it farther into his forehead. But Gibbons was far too strong. With a roar, he shoved her away. She lost her grip on the rock as she fell.
Blood poured freely down his face. He shoved one hand against it to staunch the wound as he approached her, his gun trembling because of the sheer fury filling him. "You--!" And his rage was beyond his ability to articulate, so he stammered out again, "You--!"
He dropped down on top of her, pressing his full body weight against her. She squirmed under him but couldn't dislodge him as he pressed the gun squarely against her stomach and snarled, "Belly wound. Very slow, very painful. It's what you deserve, you lousy--"
"I didn't--"
"Shut up! You never shut up! But I'm gonna shut you up! I'm gonna blow a hole in your--"
And from above them, a voice spoke in a tone that was deliberately cool and controlled. "Get away from her."
Gibbons looked up and his already pale face went one shade lighter. Emma twisted her head around, her eyes wanting to confirm what her ears and her mind had already told her but she still couldn't quite believe.
Daniel was standing about ten feet higher up on the slope. He held his revolver aimed squarely at Gibbons.
"I said get away from her." Daniel's gun wasn't wavering. "Put your hands over your head."
"Ain't gonna happen!" snapped Gibbons. He twisted his body around and wrapped his legs around Emma's middle, exposing no part of himself to a clear shot. He grinned. "I've been waitin' for you. You and that meddlin' Flint." He frowned. "So where is your buddy? I've been waitin' for him, too."
"Put your gun down," Daniel said.
"No, you're gonna put your gun down! You're gonna put your hands over your head! You got that? Just do it! Or I swear I'll kill her and your precious child. I swear!"
"Don't listen to him, Daniel," Emma cried. "Don't do what he wants. He'll kill you."
"Kill her," said Daniel evenly, "and you'll have nothing to bargain with."
"I don't care whether she lives or dies!" shot back Gibbons. "If you don't care either, then that's that. So I kill her and the baby, and then I'll put my hands over my head and surrender. You won't be able to do a damned thing 'cept turn me over to the army. And she'll be dead. Your firstborn, too. Now if that don't bother you, then fine! Or maybe you just wanna take a whack at shootin' the both of us. You'll prob'ly hit her while you're tryin' to shoot me. And if you fail to kill me, then I'll kill her anyway. From where I sit, you don't have a hell of a lot of choices!"
"I have plenty of choices."
"No, you don't! I know that and you know that!" His voice went up in register, his barely restrained panic starting to overwhelm him. "Now throw down the shooter! Come on! Do it! Throw it down or I'll kill her, I swear I will, now do it, throw it down, throw it down now or she's dead right now!"
"All right!" And Daniel tossed the gun to one side. It clattered away, out of sight.
Emma sagged against Gibbons, her thoughts black.
"And the gun belt! Slowly! Keep your hands in sight! So much as one twitch and she's dead."
Carefully, making no sudden moves, Daniel undid the fastening on the belt and slid it off. He ran it slowly through his hands, saying, "See? Nothing on it. I don't have any other weapons." Then he dropped the belt to the ground.
Grinning, Gibbons raised his pistol and took dead aim at Daniel. But to Gibbons's surprise, Daniel remained as calm as if he had the upper hand and said, "Put down your gun and no one will hurt you."
"You gotta be kiddin' me."
"No, I'm not kidding you. You see ... you're surrounded."
For a moment, Gibbons seemed confused. Then, firming up his convictions, he said defiantly, "You're lyin'! This is just some ... some pathetic bluff!"
"No bluff. There's a band of Cheyenne on either side of you. Damn good marksmen ... a lot better than me. So, put down your pistol now and you won't be injured."
Gibbons glanced at the rocks to his left, then to his right. "There ain't nobody," he snarled. "Just how stupid do you think I am?"
"Okay. Have it your way."
Gibbons was silent for a long moment. Then he called out, "Flint? You out there?"
There was no reply from the hillside.
"I'll kill her if you don't come out. I'll kill 'em both if you don't show yourself."
Still, there came no reply.
Gibbons stood and hauled Emma to her feet, shoving the gun barrel against the base of her jaw.
"I think," he said slowly, "that you're bluffin'. I think that all of you split up in order to cover more ground. This is a very big place. Ain't no way that they can possibly be close enough to make any sort of difference. In fact, it'd prob'ly take you a couple of hours to meet up with 'em, seein' how much time has gone by. And so I'm callin' your bluff. Tell 'em to shoot. Go ahead."
"This is your last warning," said Daniel sternly.
"I know. I'll chance it."
Daniel looked bleakly at Emma and said, "I'm sorry." And then, suddenly, he spread his hands wide and shouted, "All right, men! Fire!"
Go back to our Table of Contents