BESERK! Page 21

The moment of respite Cole had received from the onslaught was enough. He had driven the blade of the tomahawk into Jusaz.As the bounty hunter’s pain driven body tried to comprehend the situation, Cole drove it deeper.

  Jusaz’s eyes rolled downwards to Cole’s face. Anger and hate in it. Cole drove it further, slicing it upwards.Jusaz dropped the sabre and his nearly lifeless body tried to grab on to Cole. The half-breed Indian step aside and let Jusaz fall. Rolling down the slope, he stopped halfway against a mound of dirt and stayed there.

  Jusaz opened his eyes. The pain and defeat was too much for him. Revenge still remained in his heart. He could still see the back of the bastard Cole. With an effort he reached for the dagger inside his coat, it was still sticky with the young bronco’s blood.

  It was then he felt the first stings. “Madre de Dios—Mother of God…Hermigo!” He screamed as the little predators swarmed all over him.

  He tried to tear the ants away but it only grew worse. Soon his struggles were of no avail.

  He begged God to let death come swiftly...to...be merciful...but no mercy came. The ants kept climbing out of the mound and swamping him. Death never came swiftly from these insects.

  Cole stood there unaware of the drama behind him. Jusaz’s blood had stained his face. He tried to wipe it but managed to only smear it. Armed with a tomahawk he moved towards Loco.

  The Apache was kneeling, unsteadily. The arrow still protruding from his belly. Cole knew he had shot the arrow not to kill only to maim....and maim painfully.

  Loco caught sight of him. His brother looked like El Diablo—The Devil. He pushed his hand into his fawn skin coat and knew he had made a mistake. The tomahawk dug into his throat. With a gurgling sound he fell to the ground. There he struggled in his death spasms.

  Cole watched calmly till the body went still. Only then he was aware of the surroundings. His sights went to Loco’s clenched fist. It held something. He placed his foot on it and opened it. It contained a trinket. He recognized it. Lifting it up, he put it in his pocket. He looked at his brother’s corpse.

  Why had you to do it, brother? he mused. There had never been love between the two, only respect and mostly despair. He sat there beside his brother’s corpse till it was dark. Wrapping up the corpse he put it over his shoulder and started walking.

  Chapter 9: Code Among The Apaches

  Loco’s death bought mourning as well as relief on the reservation. And it would continue for days. The Paleface guards were pleased too. They hinted of better facilities.

  It was nearing sunset when the last rites of Loco were over. The Apache burial ground wore a deserted look. Cole and Jubela were last to leave.

  Cole grasped his Grandfather’s hand and led him away from the grave. A cool mournful breeze had begun to blow from the desert. “Abejo,” he said. “I have something to give you.....something Loco gave me before he died…” He handed him the heirloom-the Eagle Clan.

  Setting his eyes fixed on the old man he continued, “If Loco had his heirloom and I have mine where did the third one come from?”

  Cole threw the three heirlooms before the old man. His eyes were now two fiery pits. “Why did you do it Jubela?”

  The old man startled as if struck on hearing his grandson call him by his name....no Abejo.

  “I do not know of what you talk, Grandson.”

  “You killed and dishonored my Isobella and planted the Eagle Clan to make me think Loco had done so…”

  “Grandson, are you mad? Has the death of Loco made you lose your mind!” interrupted the old man.

  But Cole continued unperturbed. “Loco came to my adobe but he came in peace. And my mind clouded in grief and anger, I killed my innocent brother.”

  “Grandson, your speech is like a senile old woman!” Jubela shouted.

  Cole remained silent, then turned around and headed for a copse of trees. A moment later he dragged out a man, whose face was covered. Bending over Cole uncovered the face. It was Captain Franklin.

  The captain had been badly roughed up. “Chief…I am sorry.” The frightened captain said, looking at Jubela. “I had no choice. I told him everything…”

  The captain never got a chance to continue, the hilt of Jubela’s knife protruded from his neck. The captain had a surprised look on his face. Blood gushed from his neck, as he coughed more blood trickled from his mouth. He stumbled forward and fell.

  Cole glowered at the old man.

  “I had to do it,” muttered the old man. “If not, the complete Apache Eagle Clan race would be destroyed.”

  “Jubela, you are worse than a coyote...sidewinder!,” spat Cole. “I wish I could kill you the way I killed Loco but if there is any Apache in you...you know what to do.”

  He placed a pistol before the old man. “Jubela you know what to do...”

  The old man nodded, lifted the pistol and placed it to his own temple.

  “Not here, Jubela this is sacred burial ground!”

  “Ussen, be with you grandson,” The old man said and walked towards the copse of trees.

  Cole walked towards Loco’s grave. The past events came to his mind…before dying Loco had put his hand into his fawn skin coat. He meant to show Cole the heirloom, to prove his innocence. But Cole had killed him.

  With the possession of three heirlooms, Cole realized that there had been some foul play. The first suspect was the captain; he had sworn to destroy Cole. He could have easily killed Isobella and put the blame on Loco.

  So before Loco’s last rites he had confronted the captain. The man, a coward confessed immediately. Though he had not committed the crime he had been a part of it.Jubela had mastermind the plan all along, he further confessed.

  It was Jubela who had set up Cole against Loco. It was he who had killed and humiliated Isobella, after death.

  At first it was hard to believe his grandfather was capable for such heinous acts. The old man felt no pity even for his unborn grandchild!But when Cole went over the occurrences, it began to make sense. Only his grandfather could carve such a perfect heirloom, he was a master carver. Then came the killing of Isobella, it had been done in such an authentic way that only a hand and mind of a true apache could do it.

  The captain also told him that Jubela had scornfully said that the army was of no match for Loco. The army’s strength was in numbers and in the open desert, numbers never stood a chance. Loco and his broncos would disappear like a snake under the sand.

  Hunting down and killing Loco needed a small group, the smaller the better. The only people capable of kill Loco were Cole or himself, Jubela.If it had been twenty years earlier, Jubela had proudly boasted, he would have tried it. Even now it was possible but he could not risk it. He was needed by his people. Cole, he said, was dispensable; the half-breed had thrown away his life for a mere Mexican girl.

  Cole remembered that Jubela was not happy with his decision to leave the tribe and settle in a white man’s way of life. He believed Cole should have stayed back and cared for the people. He should have become the next chief and taught the young broncos the Apache way of life. Jubela never had any hope on Loco.

  Even that had been forgiven by the old man. The real disappointment came when he married Isobella. The old man never approved of Isobella as she was Mexican. He believed Cole should have taken a full bloodied Apache squaw for a wife. So that he could sire a child having a lot more Apache blood than the diluted blood of a Mexican. It was too much for the old man. For a year or two he had not spoken to Cole.

  Jubela knew the only solution to eliminate Loco was Cole. He knew Cole would not go after Loco, for he abided by the Apache code. It meant he would not kill another Apache without sufficient reason. So Jubela had to give him a reason. He knew he could not openly do it, not without meeting the ire of his people. So he had been thinking on these lines for a while. He had first outlined it to the captain the day he was informed of Loco’s attack on El Stringo. He knew the idiotic captain was the perfect ma
n to fit the bill. And just as he had reckoned the witless captain agreed. He had also started to fashion the heirloom on that day too.

  He first advised the captain to meet Cole; he knew the uncouth captain would some how rile Cole. And then to spread the news that Cole had agreed to kill Loco.

  This news would flush Loco out of his burrow. The fear and respect for Cole had prompted Loco to make peace. From there on Jubela would come into play.

  So Loco had come to Cole’s adobe along with his renegade broncos. But on that fateful day Isobella was alone. Not knowing Loco’s intention and the inbred fear of Apache caused her to swoon.

  Loco decided to take care of Isobella as they waited for Cole’s return.

  The Tarahumhara Indian, Wari hurried to reservation to tell Jubela the news of Loco’s arrival.On receiving the news, he purposefully sent Wari to find Cole. But rode to the adobe by himself: a deceitful job to complete which needed no witness.

  At the adobe he met Loco. He mocked him saying that he would send Cole after him. This hurt Loco’s pride and he immediately left.

  Left all alone the old man killed Isobella. He had been humane by killing her first and then performing the numerous mutilations. Making it looked like Loco’s work. After all, Loco had a wretched reputation. Unfortunately, Wari happened to return to the adobe and caught Jubela in the act. He was aghast and threatened to tell Cole. The old man could not afford to leave Wari alive and killed him. But as punishment, had performed the mutilations while the Tarahumhara was alive.

  He then planted the third heirloom in Wari’s fist as evidence.

  After the job Jubela returned to the reservation. And thus he had accomplished his endeavor.

  Loco had some idea about all this. But had chosen to follow the Apache code rather than complain to Cole like a weakling. If Cole had sense and believed in Loco’s code he would have found the truth rather than go on the hunt. But the truth was he believed his grandfather above everything else and now he had paid the price. He had lost his brother, his woman and his unborn child.....

  The sound of a bullet jarred him from his thoughts. Now he had lost his grandfather too. When would this bloodshed stop? Everything was over but there was still one thing to do.

  He walked to his brother’s grave and knelt beside it. “Forgive me, Loco Chita, I was misled...May Ussen grant you a place in the tribe.”

  Images of his childhood flashed in his mind....Loco, Abejo and himself learning the bow and arrow...hunting jabali—the wild pig....stalking choddi—the antelope....

  He removed a pistol and put it to his head. “May the Man On the Cross help me...” He pulled the trigger. And fell dead on the grave.

  The people from the surrounding began to gather. “He could not bear the death of his brother.” They began whispering and shaking their heads

  After sometime the gathered crowd parted to give way to old man, Jubela. The Abejo came and stopped before Cole’s corpse. His heart sincerely wept but his mind was thinking.

  In this changing world, values change. What good does it make if values are preserved and people are not there to follow them? He had to preserve the proud Apache race, it was his duty. And for that sacrifices had to be made. Also, someone was to lead the change in values. His grandsons had been brought up well. So he had done so.

  He had also made it look like he had shot himself for Cole would not kill him. And in anger he would turn himself into another Loco. Then what? He knew with the guilt Cole would kill himself. He had taught them too well the code among the Apaches. The next generation, he would teach would be different.

  The people there pitied him he lost two generations of sons.

  The End

  Chapter i: About the Author

  Joseph Martin is a veteran in fiction writing. Born and bred in Mumbai, India, he has written numerous short stories and novels. He has been writing short stories for the past twenty years. What started as a hobby turned into a passion. He has such mastery over fiction writing that in the publishing world he is known as ‘Fiction Joe’.

  There is nothing in fiction that he has not written on, be it suspense, thrillers, horror, romance, sci-fi etc. STIFLED (Gems of Fiction-1, is a mixed bag of his best selected stories). Meet him on fictionjoe.com.

  Joseph teaches Trigonometry, Algebra and Physics. He is an ichthyologist and works part-time as a movie critic. His other interests are reading, cricket, movies and trekking.

  Chapter 1: Forthcoming novella: Behemoth-1 (Trilogy).

  Chapter 2: Forthcoming novella: Behemoth-2 (Trilogy).

 

  Chapter 3: Forthcoming novella: Behemoth-3 (Trilogy).

  Chapter 4: Forthcoming Short stories: Primeval.

  Chapter 5: Forthcoming novel: Unholy Redemption.

  Chapter 6: Forthcoming novel: Black Venus.

  Chapter 7: Forthcoming novel: Yellow Noose.

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