Red Beak

Chapter 7: A warm fire

Ray was feeling pretty delirious by the time dusk fell. He had no trouble picking up Storm's distinctive shoe print every so often which told him he was on the right trail.

As dusk turned into night, he started to feel cold and wondered if he should try and set up a fire. He shook the warm, comforting thought out of his head. No time for a fire Ray, stay focused! You gotta get those bastards that tried to kill you.

He saw a clump of trees off in the distance to the east, it was already dark and he headed towards it hoping to find something he could maybe eat there.

As he got closer to the trees, he saw a faint trail of smoke rising out of the tree tops. He approached carefully not wanting to spook whoever was camped there. His hand went to his back pocket and took out his make shift tin-can-knife.

He saw the trees glow with the light of a fire as he got closer. Voices growing louder with each careful step he took towards the fire.

"Tell us where it is!" said a gruff voice, followed by a dull thud, and then another thud. A man moaned.

Ray sunk lower into the brush. This wasn't going to be a friendly camp for sure. And that moaning voice sounded familiar. He didn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

He inched closer, trying not to make any sound. But judging by the moans of the poor sucker getting a beating, he doubted those fellers would hear him anyway.

He finally got close enough to see the camp and popped his head up for a better look.

Poor Tawapi was tied to a tree, and the short feller was beating on him, kept asking him to tell them where "it" was. Tawapi kept shaking his head and saying he didn't know. But the short feller wasn't buying it.

The short man's partner was lying next to the fire smoking a cigarette, watching his partner beating on the poor Indian. 

Ray needed a way to separate them. Trying to get the jump on one would inevitably lead to the other shooting him before he could get close to him.

He could wait till they fell asleep but he feared poor Tawapi would be dead by then. He was bleeding profusely from wounds on his face. And he was coughing up blood, which told Ray he wouldn't survive this vicious torture much longer.

Ray couldn't just sit and wait till they beat this poor feller to death. He shook his head. He didn't know why he cared what happened to this Indian either way. He would still get his bounty, alive or dead. So why did he care?

Maybe it was because deep down he believed Tawapi when he said he hadn't done anything. He had taken in many men, and they always professed their innocence, but he could also always tell that they were guilty. He had a bullshit sense that never failed him.

Tawapi's protests of innocence had felt genuine. He had this stubborn air of nobility that made Ray like him. And he deserved better than dying at the hands of these men.

The short man finally eased up on the beating and sat down by the fire. His hands were covered in blood. "I'm beat," he said to the tall man. "You get it out of him."

The tall man smiled. "I don't know why you waste your time and energy using your fists, Boyd." He pulled out a long thin knife that gleamed in the firelight. "Every man starts talking when you start cutting strips off 'em."

"You're a sick bastard Lou," Boyd said.

"You hear that Red Beak," Boyd shouted at Tawapi. "Lou here is gonna start cutting pieces off you and feeding it to the wolves, or eat it his'self. You tell us where it is and this can all end now."

Lou held his knife over the fire till it seemed to glow orange with pure malice. He got up and started walking towards Tawapi when he heard a rustle in the bushes. Lou and Boyd both stiffened and drew their pistols and aimed it in the direction the noise had come from.

"Go check it out," Boyd hissed at Lou.

"You go check it out," Lou hissed back.

"Well, you're already up," Boyd said in a low voice. "I'll watch our friend here."

"He ain't exactly going anywhere!" Lou snapped back.

"Just get," Boyd said.

Lou shot Boyd a thunderous look and started off towards the direction of the noise, his pistol in one hand, and that evil, glowing knife in the other.