Maklin just sat there.
“I’m asking you as a friend.”
With great reluctance, the Texan let the pistol sink to his side.
“Thank you.” Nate glanced over his shoulder and saw that the warrior was rising. He smiled to show the man had nothing to fear, but the man didn’t return it. Hate was writ on every particle of his face. “Go,” Nate said, and motioned.
The Pawnee started to turn. Suddenly he lunged and scooped up his knife. With a cry of elation he leaped at Nate, the blade poised for a death stroke.
Maklin’s pistol cracked.
The ball missed Nate’s shoulder by an inch and cored the warrior’s eye. The
“So much for being nice.”
Nate stared at the body. He was sick of this, sick of the death. “I forgot about his knife lying there.”
“I didn’t.”
“You expected him to try again, didn’t you?”
“Let’s just say it didn’t surprise me.”
Nate looked up. “I’m in your debt again.”
Maklin chuckled. “One of us had to use his head. And then there were four.”
Nate went to climb on the bay. “His horse must be nearby. We should look for it.”
They did, with no success. They did find tracks, though.
“Look here,” Maklin said. “The rest rode off and took his animal with them.” He scratched his chin. “I wonder how they got in front of us. I’d have sworn they must be miles to the southwest by now.”
“They saw us turn back and circled around,” Nate speculated. “It must have taken some hard riding.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. They sure do want you dead.”
On that grim note they rode on. By late afternoon they were within a mile of the Valley of Skulls. Both they and their horses were worn out.
Nate was surprised the Pawnees hadn’t tried again, and mentioned as much.
“They’ve lost too many warriors,” Maklin said. “They’ll be more choosy about how they do it from here on out.”
Suddenly their horses whinnied and shied. Nate heard a rumbling and realized the ground under them was shaking. It lasted for about half a minute, long enough to rattle every bone in his body and leave the horses half spooked.
“An earthquake,” Maklin spat. “Damn, I hate this geyser country. The sooner I am shed of it, the better.”
“Let’s hope the Shakers are all right.”
“Those idiots? It would serve them right if the earth opened up and swallowed them.”
“Sure it would. You don’t really want them dead.”
“I am not you, Nate. I don’t spare my enemies and I don’t suffer fools.”
They neared the mouth of the valley and drew rein in consternation. Borne on the breeze came screams and cries.
It was like riding into a nightmare.
Hissing steam rose from cauldron after cauldron. Pools of hot water were bubbling and roiling, some so violently that they spewed hot drops into the air. Part of the corral had broken and horses and mules were running loose. Oxen were milling and lowing. The wagons were undamaged but not the buildings. The roof on the female quarters had partly collapsed. So had the upright timbers on the building under construction and it now lay in ruins. People were scurrying every which way, Shakers and freighters alike. Wails of lament rose with the steam, as well as pleas for succor.
Nate brought the bay to a gallop. He swept past the freight wagons and the parked Conestogas and drew rein. Vaulting down, he ran to catch up to Jeremiah Blunt and Haskell and five other freighters who were running toward the female dwelling.
Blunt glanced at him. “You’re just in time. The roof fell on some of the women. They need our help.”
The doorway was clogged with female Shakers, many wringing their hands, some praying. Blunt shouldered through and Nate followed to where a crossbeam had cracked and come down. From under it jutted a woman’s legs in a spreading scarlet pool.
“Good God!” Haskell exclaimed.
Farther in it was worse. Half the rafters had split in a large room where the women prepared meals. Nearly a dozen women had been in it when the earthquake struck. Some had been crushed to pulp. Others were alive but pinned by the weight of the fractured beams.
Arthur Lexington and other male Shakers had freed one young woman who was writhing in agony; from her knees down, her legs were splintered bone and mashed flesh.
Jeremiah Blunt barked commands and his men leaped to obey. They ran to the largest of the beams. Part of a woman was visible, her shoulder and arm and one leg, intact and untouched. Working quickly, the freighters put their backs to lifting the beam so Nate could get the woman out. Puffing and straining and grunting, they raised the massive weight by slow degrees. The instant it was high enough, Nate pulled. The woman came out from under easily enough, what was left of her.
One of the men turned away and retched.
Sister Amelia would never dance again. The timber had caught her across the top of her forehead and reduced it to a mush of brain and bone and hair. One eye had popped from its socket; the other had rolled up into her head, showing only the white. Her face was barely recognizable.
Nate looked away. He saw several Shakers trying to lift another beam and went to help. This time it was a young woman who had been pinned; her shoulder was shattered. She would live but be crippled for life.
The sobbing and wails, the smell of blood, the dust, and the gathering twilight lent a ghastly pall to the rescue efforts. Nate did what he could and after half an hour was caked with sweat, weary to his core, and sickened at heart. The last of the timbers had been moved. The last survivor rescued. When Jeremiah Blunt nudged him and motioned, Nate nodded and followed him out.
The cool night breeze was invigorating, for all of one breath. Nate sucked it into his lungs and wished he hadn’t. A foul stench filled the valley, a reek like that of eggs gone rotten. Covering his mouth and nose, he breathed shallowly.
“I am not waiting for morning,” Jeremiah Blunt declared. “I am gathering my men and leaving within the hour.”
“I’m surprised you’re not long gone,” Nate said.
“Unloading took longer than I expected. I decided to stay over and leave first thing tomorrow.” He gazed about them. “I’m glad I did. These people needed our help.”
“They shouldn’t be here.”
“Perhaps between us we can persuade them it’s in their best interests to pack up and get out before another earthquake strikes.”
From out of the dark came Maklin. He was covered with dust and favoring his left leg. “I was over at that building they were putting up,” he answered when Nate asked why. “Sprained my ankle helping to lift a beam.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Five men are dead. Three others won’t be walking for a while.”
“It could have been worse,” Blunt said.
Maklin tilted his head and went to put his hat back on, and froze. “What the hell
