Fistful of Feet (21 page)

   “Your whore of a sister must be sucking that mayor’s dick right about now. Sucking his dick while her brother is rotting away here in a goddamn prison camp. She must be so proud,” the captain had said on the last day Sergio was held captive.

   Sergio had nodded slowly, sweat sliding down his face. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would have wounded the captain. So instead, he made his move and pulled out the makeshift knife he had been preparing and shoved it into Clark’s neck.

   So as he watched the Indian’s slaughter of Screwhorse from afar, Sergio thought about how he slipped into the captain’s uniform and started to shoot and slash his way out of the camp. His escape route was a bloody path filled with the half-eaten flesh and bleached bones of his fellow Union soldiers.

   He started feeling feverish but it wasn’t from the heat. His mouth became like cotton and the veins in his neck throbbed with uncertain anger.

   Once again Sergio looked at the flaming corpse. “Yeah,” he said. “We really should’ve brought some water with us.”

* * *

   Stacklee and Sheriff Doyle slammed the door behind Calamaro and then pushed the tables in front of it.

   “This shit’s only going to get worse,” Sheriff Doyle said. He looked at Calamaro and couldn’t help but look at the wounds on the man’s face instead of his eyes. It took all of his self-control not to show disgust. “Thanks for getting us out of that mess. I misjudged you.”

   Calamaro nodded and then turned to Betty, practically falling into her arms. His wounds were leaking blood and drool, soaking her dress.

   “Honey…oh, honey,” she said, holding him in her arms.

   Sheriff Doyle said, “Okay, we have to come up with a plan and fast. Those fucking bastards outside are going to eventually want in here and I don’t know if we can defend against more than a few of those redskins at once.”

   Black Boned Keith walked over from the bar. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to leave this fucking town out the back. Our best chance is to leave now.”

   “That’s a bad idea, if you ask me,” Stacklee said. “I think we should wait until we know what their plan is.”

   “Fuck that. We wait, we’re going to end up trapped in here,” Keith said. “And I for one don’t want to be eaten by those fucking savages. I’m taking my cattle and getting the hell out of Screwhorse.”

   Stacklee laughed. “Are you kidding me? You think you’re getting out of here with your herd?”

   “Damn right.” Keith walked toward the back door. “Anyone else want to come with me, come on.”

   Everyone stayed put, not trusting that Black Boned Keith’s idea was the best. But one voice interrupted the stillness.

   “I’ll go with you!” Mary ran downstairs. “I’m not going to die here. I’m not going to be a whore killed by Indians.”

   “Why the hell didn’t you leave before like I told you to?” Betty said.

   “Timothy Horn didn’t want me to.”

   “So where is that bastard?”

   “Passed out drunk on the floor.”

   Betty rolled her eyes. “Guess we should wake him up.”

   “No!” Mary said.

   All eyes were on her.

   Sheriff Doyle said, “Why the hell not?”

   “Because,” Mary said. She turned her back on the group. “Because he’s dead.”

   Stacklee moved to comfort her but Doyle put his arm out and said, “What happened, Mary?”

   “He got rough with me.”

   “And?”

   “I killed him.”

   Sheriff Doyle shook his head. “How?”

   “I stepped on his throat while he was sleeping.”

   Betty let out a cry. It wasn’t that she gave a shit about Timothy Horn but to hear that one of her own girls had murdered a man in his sleep was enough to make anyone upset.

   “Mary, please answer this carefully,” Sheriff Doyle said. “Do you know anything about the girls that were killed here?”

   “No!” Mary said. “Of course not!”

   “Did Timothy?”

   “I don’t know. I mean, he didn’t say anything about it.”

   Bluford said, “I know who did it.”

   “What’re you talking about?” Doyle said. “Who did it?”

   “Tom Duma and his wife.”

   “Shit, didn’t we clear this up?”

   Bluford explained about the previous night, the shadowy figure in the coat and hat, and the confrontation with the Dumas. Everyone seemed surprised that those two could’ve been capable of such atrocities but in the circumstances, they didn’t seem to be incapacitated by the news.

   Doyle looked over his shoulder. He saw the Indians outside dragging Kersey through the street. It was a horrible sight, seeing the man defenseless against those savages. And he, the sheriff, couldn’t do anything about it.

   “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll wait. Savages or not, they probably have some sort of plan. Probably a plan that they learned from fighthing the goddamn U.S. Army all these years. Soon as we learn what they’re doing, we take off, go up to Keoma. Everybody agree?”

   Black Boned Keith said, “No, you know damn well I don’t agree. And Mary can come with me if she wants. What about June? She’s still here, right?”

   “She’s sick, probably still sleeping,” Stacklee said. “I’ll go get her.”

   Sheriff Doyle turned to Calamaro. “What do you think, stranger? You waiting for us or going with that son of a bitch?”

   Calamaro shook his head. “I’m staying. At least for a while.”

   “Okay, then, Keith,” Doyle said. “You and Mary go but if you try to come back, we’re not going to let you in if there’s a hoard of Indians following you. Got it?”

   “Yeah, sheriff. Sure,” Keith said. He took Mary by the arm and walked her out the back door.

   “There goes two dead idiots,” Sheriff Doyle said.

   “So what does that make us?” Betty said, listening to the growing noise of violence outside.

* * *

   Stacklee knocked on the door. “June? You feeling any better?”

   There was no answer.

   He knocked again and then walked in. What he saw made him drop to his knees and vomit.

   In the middle of the room, June was naked on the floor. Her breasts were bubbling, the nipples ejaculating thin pink strands of hair. Red tattoos covered the rest of her flesh.

   “Oh my god,” Stacklee said. He crawled toward June but knew that despite the movement of her body, she wasn’t alive, at least not like she was before. He looked into her eyes and saw only death.

   The hair that squeezed out of her nipples was now shooting onto Stacklee. He shoved it aside and shivered when he did so. Quickly, he left the room and walked down the stairs, wondering how Betty would take the news. She had already lost three girls to murder, two more to the Indians, and one just committed a murder herself.

   “Betty,” he said. “June’s dead.”

   “Oh my god, I’m in hell.” Betty said. “This is hell.” She let go of Calamaro and walked over to the bar.

   Sheriff Doyle took Stacklee aside. “What happened to her? June, I mean.”

   “I don’t know. Some strange shit’s going on. Her body’s all….messed up.”

   “Cut up like the others?”

   “I don’t think so,” Stacklee said. His eyes filled up with tears. “I don’t know what happened to her but I know she didn’t deserve it.”

   “I know.” Sheriff Doyle turned to Calamaro. “You’re pretty quiet.”

   Calamaro attempted a smile but his wounds made it appear as if he was scowling. “You want me to give a speech?” he said.

   Doyle chuckled. “No, guess not.”

   “Look,” Stacklee said, pointing outside. Black Boned Keith and Mary were there with some of Keith’s cattle. They weren’t alone.

   A group of Indians surrounded them. Though Sheriff Doyle felt the desire to go outside and help, he knew there was no hope. The redskins had their weapons ready, giant green bones that were sharpened to points.

   “We have to do something,” Stacklee said. “Can’t we open the windows, shoot some of them?”

   Doyle shook his head. “So far, the Indians aren’t trying to get in here. Maybe there’s a reason for it or maybe not but I don’t think we should be attracting attention.”

   “So we’re going to let them die?”

   “It’s not about that. I’m thinking of me. I’m thinking of you, Betty, Bluford, and this man here.” He gestured to Calamaro. “You think he can take another fight? Look at him. His face is practically falling off, for Christ’s sake.”

   Bluford broke his silence. “Can’t we do anything?”

   “Not if we all want to live,” Doyle said. “Okay, well, let’s get some water and food ready for when we have to leave.”

   Silently, the group gathered supplies but no one looked outside as Mary and Keith succumbed to the Indians. After it was done, their corpses were covered in the remains of the tentacled cattle and then set on fire. Blue-green smoke filled the air and sent the stench of musky seawater through the town.

* * *

   Betty and Calamaro were filling canteens with water when she said, “You’re quiet. What’re you thinking about?”

   Calamaro shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just all the killing. More killing than I’ve ever done and it was all in one town.”

   “You had no choice.”

   “I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

   They were silent again as they filled a couple of canteens with whiskey.

   Betty said, “Are you going to stay with me when we get to Keoma?”

   “I’m not going.”

   “What?” Betty nearly dropped the whiskey bottle. “Not going? What’re you talking about?”

   “Before when I said I was staying, I meant for good. Once everything is clear, you all should go but I don’t think I’m fit to do any more traveling. At least not for a while.”

   “So you’re just going to stay here? There’s going to be no one left!”

   “I think a town of ghosts just might be what I need right now,” Calamaro said. He finished filling a canteen and then leaned over to kiss Betty. She accepted the soft kiss from those wounded and bloody lips, wishing that she’d have them for a bit longer.

   “Then it’ll be goodbye for good, huh?” she said.

   “I’m afraid so.”

   “You know you never told me what your daughter’s name was.”

   Calamaro’s head came down just a bit. The thought of his child brought heaviness to his heart and mind. “Sara.”

   “And your wife’s?”

   “Victoria.”

   “That’s a beautiful name.”

   Calamaro kissed her again. “So is Betty.”

PART THREE

Exodus of the Damned

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

   Sergio led Clayton and Leonard through the desert.

   They were fortunate because the Indians didn’t see them leave and therefore didn’t follow them. Clayton, in particular, took this to mean that they were lucky and vowed to play a dice game in the next town they get to.

   As they walked, Sergio kept his eyes forward and never attempted to add to the other men’s conversation. He didn’t say a word until he stopped next to a tall pink cactus and pointed straight ahead. He said, “Bella….”

   Fifty feet away, in a haze of heat and dust, stood his sister, Belladonna Cardinale.

   Sergio ran up and wrapped his arms around her. He sobbed on her shoulder, not shy about showing his tears in front of Clayton and Leonard. “Bella, I thought you were dead.”

   She said, “You came to find me?”

   “Yes.”

   “You found the man who took me?”

   “Yes.”

   Belladonna ran her hand through Sergio’s hair. “And you killed him?”

   “I had to.”

   “You know I always hated your killing.”

   “I know.” Sergio let out a deep sob. “But I had to.”

   “Remember when I was a child and that preacher hurt me?”

   “Of course I remember.”

   “And you hurt him. You hurt him real bad. He couldn’t preach anymore. He couldn’t see, couldn’t speak. Not after you got done with him.”

    “He deserved it.” Sergio gritted his teeth. “He deserved worse.”

   “So why didn’t you kill him, then?” Belladonna said.

   “I don’t know. Maybe I figured if I killed a man of God, something would happen to you. Now I know the truth.”

   “The truth?”

   “That there is no God that gives a shit about you or me or anyone,” Sergio said. “You were nothing but an angel all your life and look what happened to you and for what reason? What’s God trying to prove? That good people like you deserve to be tortured by preachers and mayors? It doesn’t make a goddamn bit of sense.”

   “Your anger’s going to eat you alive someday.” Belladonna kissed her brother on the head and then gently pushed him away. “I have to go now.”

   “What’re you talking about? Go where?”

   “I love you, Sergio,” Belladonna said. Her body broke into dust and fell to the ground.

   “Bella!”

   Clayton and Leonard slowly walked to Sergio and put their hands on his shoulders. They said nothing because they didn’t think there was anything they could say.

   Sergio said, “You saw her, right? I’m not crazy. You saw her?”

   Leonard lowered his eyes which were starting to tear.

   “Yeah, Sergio,” he said. “We saw her.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

   Sheriff Doyle stood watch at the front of the brothel while Stacklee took the back. Bluford and Calamaro watched from the upstairs windows.

   Slowly, the slaughter in the town decreased and the streets became a cemetery with no crosses. Bodies littered the streets, some dismembered, some on fire, and some intact. Stray Indians still roamed and amused themselves by taking ears, noses, and assholes as trophies.

   Then the last of the redskins left in the direction in which they came. Bluford and Calamaro came downstairs.

   “Looks like they packed up and left,” Bluford said. “I don’t see any of them anywhere closer than east on the horizon. You think it’s safe to go now?”

   Sheriff Doyle said, “Just as long as we travel west and keep an eye out. Could be that they’re just playing with us and will come back looking for survivors.”