“I had to wait for a few of them to drift off!” he whispered in return. “I know that I’m just supposed to up and die for you, but it wouldn’t have done you any good if I would have walked right in and been shot by the guard.”
“All he has is an Enfield!”
“Enfields can kill! Believe me, I’ve seen a few men downed by Enfields!” he told her. “Skylar, we have to argue later. We’ve got to get out of here now.”
He started walking, pulling her along. She stepped upon a particularly sharp rock, and despite her will to be silent, shecried out softly. He turned back, staring at her. “I’m sorry!” she hissed. “It hurt.”
“What are you doing barefoot?”
“I was after your stupid mule, remember?”
Something suddenly whistled by her ear. A knife stabbed the earth by their feet.
“Sweet Jesus!” Skylar breathed. She gritted down on her teeth when Hawk pulled his Colt from the holster at his hips, quickly firing off several rounds. The reverberations were deafening. A cry in the night assured her that at least one of the Crow war party had been hit.
She gasped when he swept her up, carrying her then as he hurried away from the rocks. She swallowed hard as he stepped over the body of the Crow guard who had been carrying the Enfield.
“Duck!” she suddenly heard.
Sloan was before them, falling to his knees. Hawk went instantly downward to a hunching position. An arrow flew past them, slamming into a tree beyond. Sloan, still on his knees, fired off several shots. Skylar heard a shriek of pain. Hawk spun around, his Colt raised, just in time to stop the warrior who was about to pitch his entire weight against him. The man went down in absolute silence. Another warrior followed behind him, tomahawk raised. Hawk fired again. The second warrior fell upon the other.
Skylar closed her eyes tightly, biting back a wave of purely hysterical screams. God, the death and mayhem seemed to be all around her.
“Do we finish it?” Sloan asked.
“Do we have a choice?” Hawk queried in return.
Still clinging to Hawk, Skylar began to shake. She raised herself against him, grabbing his shoulders. “Let’s go, let’s just go?—”
“Skylar, they’ll come after us. All the way,” Hawk told her.
“There can just be two men left alive. They?—”
“Skylar, these Crow are very far from home. They were pushed from these lands a long time ago. They’re on a war party. They’ve come for something. They may not be alone. There could be many more warriors who might join up with them. Perhaps they’ve come to raid the whites—to most Indians, there is far more profit in stealing from white settlements than there is in raiding other tribes.”
“Let’s just go—” she insisted again, but Sloan cut her off.
“Skylar, you don’t understand. You humiliated that warrior who accosted you by the brook. You struck him. That was like a woman counting coup against a brave. He’s dead, but sometimes humiliation is worse than death. Don’t you understand? They might come after you until they’ve found a way to take you.”
Her agreement or disagreement didn’t matter anymore. Arrows suddenly began to land again, so near them that her skirt was shot through and pinned to the ground. Despite herself she screamed, only to find Hawk pressing her down to the ground and rising over her. He didn’t get off a shot. One of the Crows threw himself against Hawk and then went rolling into the dust and earth.
“Stay down!” she heard Sloan command when she would have risen. The second surviving warrior came catapulting over her, striking Sloan. All four men were now engaged in life-and-death battles, rolling in the earth around her.
She couldn’t stay down any longer. She jumped to her feet, then dove back to the earth for Hawk’s Colt. How many shots remained? She had no idea. The gun seemed hot and heavy in her hand. She tried to aim it. She looked over at Hawk and one brave, Sloan and the other. They all twisted and rolled so frequently and so fast she was afraid to fire. She might kill one of them.
Hawk was suddenly on his feet, along with the one brave. They circled one another. Skylar raised the Colt. Just as the brave went rushing for Hawk, she fired.
She heard Hawk cursing. The brave was slumped against him. She shook, thinking she had killed the brave. Hawk pushed the man from him. He fell on his back, and she saw that he had been stabbed in the heart.
Hawk was clasping his arm. She saw him staring at her, but it was too dark to read his expression.
“I shot?—”
“Me!” he announced. “Get down!” he suddenly commanded.
She did as she was told. She saw her husband’s bloodied knife go whipping past her, just in time to prevent the last surviving Crow from bringing a rock crashing down on Sloan’s head. Sloan, too, had been prepared. The Crow died with one knife in his back, another through his heart. Staring at him with horror, Skylar dropped the Colt and backed away, her hands upon her face as she fought the waves of blackness engulfing her.
“Uh-hmm!”
