Chapter 5 - The False Apache Raid
The first thing Elias heard as he entered San Rosario was a church bell.
Someone was pulling the rope without rhythm, sending frantic iron warnings across the town.
The second thing he heard was gunfire.
The third was Aayoka shouting behind him.
“Left!”
Elias turned.
A rider dressed in buckskin came around the corner with a rifle.
Elias recognized him as one of Creed's men from Red Mesa.
The disguise was deliberately crude.
Enough to fool frightened townspeople from a distance.
Elias fired at the man's rifle.
The weapon spun away.
The rider fled.
“Don't kill them unless you have to!” Elias shouted.
Aayoka stared at him.
“We need witnesses!”
She understood.
Creed's men wanted bodies.
Elias wanted testimony.
They reached the hotel.
A broken wagon blocked the entrance.
Amos dismounted.
“Judge Webb!”
A shot came from an upstairs window.
They ducked.
“Friendly!” Amos shouted.
A white-haired man appeared.
“Amos?”
“Unless you know another handsome old fool!”
The judge disappeared.
Seconds later the door opened.
They rushed inside.
Judge Nathaniel Webb was perhaps sixty, with steel-gray hair and the exhausted expression of a man whose day had gone considerably worse than expected.
His gaze stopped on Elias.
“I know you.”
Elias's hand tightened.
“Probably from a wanted poster.”
Webb's eyes narrowed.
“Elias Boon.”
“Yes.”
“You're accused of payroll robbery and murder.”
“I know.”
Webb reached toward his pistol.
Aayoka stepped between them.
“Then arrest him after you read this.”
She slammed Creed's ledger onto the hotel counter.
Webb stared.
“What is that?”
“The reason your town is burning.”
Outside, another explosion shook the windows.
Elias opened the ledger.
“These aren't Apache raiders. They're Creed's men.”
Webb read.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Under Red Mesa.”
The judge flipped pages.
“Horace Vale.”
“Your territorial marshal.”
Webb's face hardened.
“I know who he is.”
“Then you know what happens if we hand this to him.”
Webb closed the ledger.
“How do I know this isn't forged?”
Aayoka approached the window.
“Because one of those men can tell you.”
She pointed.
A wounded attacker had fallen from his horse.
Elias ran outside.
Bullets struck the dirt around him.
He dragged the man behind a trough.
Aayoka covered him with a rifle taken from the hotel.
“Who sent you?” Elias demanded.
The man spat blood.
“Go to hell.”
Elias pulled away the fake feather decoration.
“You're not Apache.”
The man glared.
“Tell the judge.”
“Creed will kill me.”
“He'll kill you anyway.”
That truth landed.
The man looked toward the hotel.
“Silas Creed.”
Webb had followed them outside.
“You'll testify?”
The wounded man stared.
“If you keep me alive.”
Webb nodded.
“You have my word.”
Suddenly a bullet struck the trough.
“Inside!”
They dragged the prisoner back.
The attackers began retreating.
Elias watched from the doorway.
“Why are they leaving?”
Aayoka looked toward the ridge.
A new group of riders appeared.
Cavalry.
Real cavalry.
Blue uniforms.
United States Army.
Elias exhaled.
“Maybe we finally caught a break.”
Amos did not look relieved.
“Maybe.”
The cavalry entered town.
At their head rode Major Samuel Mercer.
Webb stepped outside.
“Major!”
Mercer dismounted.
“What happened?”
Webb held up the ledger.
“An organized attack staged to resemble an Apache raid.”
Mercer's face hardened.
“Evidence?”
“Plenty.”
Then another rider entered town.
Elias recognized him from newspaper drawings.
Territorial Marshal Horace Vale.
The corrupt official named throughout Creed's ledger.
Vale looked directly at Elias.
And smiled.
“Well,” he said loudly. “Looks like we caught ourselves a fugitive.”
Several soldiers turned.
Webb stepped forward.
“Marshal, we need to talk.”
“We certainly do.”
Vale pointed at Elias.
“That man murdered a freight driver and stole twelve thousand dollars.”
“Your name appears in evidence suggesting otherwise.”
For the first time Vale's smile faltered.
“What evidence?”
Webb lifted the ledger.
Vale's eyes fixed on it.
Elias saw the decision happen.
Vale drew his gun.
“Down!”
Elias tackled Webb.
Vale fired.
The bullet struck the hotel door.
Soldiers shouted.
Aayoka aimed her rifle at Vale.
“Drop it!”
Major Mercer drew his sidearm.
“Marshal!”
Vale froze.
Every weapon on the street seemed pointed somewhere.
For several seconds nobody moved.
Then Vale slowly lowered his revolver.
“This is madness.”
Webb stood.
“No.”
He dusted himself off.
“This is a federal investigation.”
Vale laughed.
“Based on a book carried by a wanted murderer and an Apache woman?”
Aayoka's face became still.
Elias stepped toward Vale.
“Say it again.”
Aayoka caught Elias's arm.
“No.”
Vale smiled.
Webb opened the ledger.
“Your signature appears thirty-seven times.”
Vale's smile vanished.
Major Mercer took the book.
He read several entries.
Then looked at Vale.
“Marshal, surrender your weapon.”
Vale's hand twitched.
Mercer's soldiers raised rifles.
Vale finally removed his gun.
A deputy took it.
Elias felt something loosen inside his chest.
Not freedom.
Not yet.
But possibility.
Webb turned to him.
“This ledger may prove you were framed.”
“May?”
“A court proves things, Mr. Boon.”
Elias almost groaned.
Aayoka whispered, “You wanted law.”
“I remember why I avoided it.”
Webb heard.
“Stay alive long enough to complain in court.”
That evening, Creed's captured man gave a full statement.
The truth was worse than expected.
Creed had spent years manufacturing conflict.
He stole weapons from military shipments, staged raids, blamed Apache communities, and then obtained contracts to supply frightened settlements.
Red Mesa mattered because the railroad planned a water station nearby.
Control the spring, control the route.
But one detail changed everything.
Judge Webb asked, “Where is Creed now?”
The prisoner hesitated.
“Going back.”
“Back where?”
“Red Mesa.”
Aayoka stood.
“Why?”
The man looked at her.
“He said if he couldn't own the spring, nobody would.”
Elias felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
“Dynamite.”
Aayoka was already moving toward the door.
Elias followed.
Webb stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“You know where.”
“Major Mercer can send soldiers.”
“Too slow.”
“You're still technically under arrest.”
Elias turned.
“Then arrest me when I get back.”
Webb stared at him.
Finally he sighed.
“I didn't hear that.”
Aayoka mounted Boone.
Elias climbed onto another horse.
Amos emerged from the hotel.
“You two aren't leaving an old man behind.”
“Yes, we are,” Elias said.
Amos frowned.
“Good luck, then.”
Elias blinked.
“That was easier than expected.”
“I've decided I enjoy beds.”
Aayoka almost smiled.
Then Webb came outside.
He handed Elias the ledger.
“Why give me this?”
“Creed will want it.”
“Exactly.”
Elias understood.
Bait.
Webb added, “Major Mercer will follow at dawn.”
Elias tucked the ledger beneath his coat.
Aayoka looked north.
Red Mesa lay beneath the rising moon.
Her home.
Her dead.
The spring.
Everything Creed intended to erase.
She kicked Boone forward.
Elias followed.
They rode into the night.
Hours later, they reached the ridge above the spring.
Torchlight moved below.
Men carried crates toward the cavern.
Elias counted.
“Fourteen.”
Aayoka whispered, “Creed?”
Elias found him.
Standing beside the water.
Silas Creed held a torch in one hand.
In the other was a bundle of dynamite.
He stared directly toward the ridge where Elias and Aayoka hid.
As if he had been waiting.
Then his voice carried through the canyon.
“I know you're up there, Boon!”
Elias froze.
Creed smiled.
“And if you want the woman’s sacred spring to survive until sunrise, bring me my ledger.”
Aayoka looked at Elias.
Creed had turned the entire canyon into a trap.
May you like
And Elias had carried the one thing Creed needed straight back to him.
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