'Very well. You have my blessing.'
Hiamovi signalled to the other braves standing watch to mount up and they all turned to ride back the way the had come.
'This is a great day,' said Ahiga.
'Let us hope so,' said Hiamovi, turning to take one last look at the burial ground while the others rode ahead. 'Let us hope so.' He reached out with his soul to feel the comforting hand of the Great Spirit. To ask for His guidance. It wasn't there. It had been some moons now since had last felt the Great Spirit's presence. Or heard the call of a Coyote.
CHAPTER NINE
Colt stood at the foot of the tower and looked up. It wasn't even a quarter finished but it looked impressive. It was going to be the largest working transmitter operating anywhere in the world. It would give them dominion over the hearts and minds of most of America.
'Is there any sign of the Prophet yet?' he asked Simon Peter. Dusk was falling and they were low on rations.
'Sir, our men met his party about ten miles further down along the Tongue River. We know they're coming but the batteries are dead on their radios. Those things are difficult to repair nowadays and even harder to replace.'
'Ain't that the truth,' said Colt. He looked around the camp at the volunteers helping with the construction. Some of them he knew from Colorado, faithful members of his flock. Most of them he'd never seen before. 'That Prophet sure brought us a lot of help didn't he?'
'Seem to be a lot of people anxious to hear his words sir. They're not all from Wyoming neither. Some of them are from Montana too. Prophet's got followers as far as Laurel and Miles City now.'
'He's about to have a heap more. More importantly, so are we.'
'They're proving useful with the construction sir. We couldn't have got this far without their sacrifice.'
'They're going to sacrifice a good deal more yet and prove a powerful sight more useful.' They both smiled. Simon Peter was a stand up guy. One that could be trusted. He caught the meaning of Colt's words straight away.
There was a cheer from the borders of the camp. Everyone stopped and turned to look, dropping their tools to crowd around the Prophet and his party as they entered the camp. Simon Peter and Colt exchanged looks and raised their eyebrows.
The Prophet's party were carrying two freshly killed deer, pheasants and even chickens. Colt felt himself drooling as they were taken off to be butchered and the fire pits for the spits were dug.
The crowds of volunteers flocked around the Prophet. All of them wanting to shake his hand or simply touch his clothes. The Prophet just grinned and dealt with the attention far better than Colt would have.
Colt didn't bother to approach the Prophet. He let the man come to him. He wanted the people in the camp to understand the hierarchy.
The Prophet pushed his way through crowd and walked up to Colt. 'Good to see you again Samuel.'
'And you Robert.' Colt shook the Prophet's hand.
'That's a mighty impressive job you've done on the tower. Ahead of schedule so I hear.'
'Couldn't have done it without your fan base here. You sure know how to raise a crowd of people.'
'Ah now, that ain't my doing. These are the last days Samuel and people are hungry for the truth. The words of Jesus, well they're just about the most beautiful things anyone has ever said. They remind us that no matter how low a man sinks, no matter how far he's fallen, God's love is still there with him, waiting to lift him up soon as he asks. What you see here today, that's God's love in action.'
'So long as it don't form no union, it sounds good to me.'
The Prophet laughed, took off his hat and mopped his brow. 'If you'll excuse me, I've got a cook-out to attend to.'
'Knock yourself out.'
The Prophet replaced his hat and tipped it to Colt as a sign of respect before leaving to busy himself with the evening meal.
'There'll be more singing and clapping this evening then,' said Simon Peter. 'And a whole shitload of hymns.' Colt looked sternly at him. He swallowed hard. 'Don't get me wrong now sir. I love God and I love my country, but there's a limit to the amount of hallelujah's a decent man can stand.'
'At ease man. Let 'em have their fun. They won't have much to sing about soon. Walk with me,' he said to Simon Peter as he strode away from the camp into the surrounding woods. Colt looked over at two of his men, Fitch and Golding. Fitch, the tallest of the two, had a lean and muscular frame, a shaved head and a moustache Colt didn't care much for. Golding was carrying a lot more fat, but it didn't slow him down and he was dangerous in a fight. Both of them knew how to get things done, that's why Colt used them
They were lounging against some logs and leapt to their feet as soon as they saw Colt. He signalled for them to follow him.
Colt looked at the setting sun's rays as they broke through the pine trees. 'You know boys, God couldn't have picked a more beautiful spot for us to start our campaign. It's a shame them Injuns have been desecrating it with their heathen rituals for so long.'
'They'll get theirs soon enough,' said Fitch in a low growl.
'That they will,' said Colt. He looked the wood over to make certain none of the pilgrims were around to hear them. Then he turned to address the three men. 'Did you speak to that Injun you've got on a leash?'
Fitch nodded. 'Tom Lightfoot you mean? He was a banger with the 57th Street Gang, back before The Cull, same as me and Golding. Mean son of a bitch too. When the dying started he upped and went back to his own people, started calling himself Ahiga. Rides with this bunch by the name of UTN now.'
'United Tribal Nations,' said Simon Peter. 'They're like to cause us a mess of trouble soon.'
'Not if we play it smart,' Colt said. 'Fact is, they could prove mighty useful.' He turned to Fitch and Golding. 'So your man on the inside. Is he down with the program?'
'Oh yeah,' said Fitch. 'We still got some shit on him. He's our pet redskin. He's going to attack at dawn three days from now. Soon as the Prophet's gone.'
'Leave a skeleton crew guarding the camp. Have the rest of the men and the technicians fall back with the Prophet's party. When the Injuns are done have them roll in and sort out any survivors.'
'Will the tower be safe sir?' said Simon Peter. 'These redskins won't do it any damage will they?'
'I doubt they have the resources.'
The sun disappeared and dusk threw the woods into shadow. The smell of roasting meat wafted over from the camp. In the deepening gloom Colt felt his stomach growl.
'The love of God in action,' he muttered to himself with a wry smile and wandered back to the gathering.
CHAPTER TEN
It started in her dreams.
Anna was at a barn raising. She'd come in her parents' buggy. Her poppa was the community's master carpenter and could have built them the finest buggy in the whole settlement, but it was a sin to store up and possess fine things for yourself when your brother's and sisters in God hadn't any. So poppa built them a buggy no better than anyone else had. For God made all men humble in the end and poppa's gifts were for the whole community, not just his family.
Anna was helping her momma and the other women prepare the food for the noon day meal. The women were chattering about who was courting whom and who had been seen riding home in whose buggy after the
