Page 97 of Close Quarters

At that point, I gave up trying to steer the conversation. “He said he knew a decent place, so here we are.”

“Well, good thing you listened. Had to spend quite a few days and nights out in this place before, so I know a good one when I see it,” Edgar said, dropping the bags. “And I know that’s about enough water and rations to keep you two tided over…but not the horses.”

“There’s jugs,” Elliot said, nodding toward the horses standing stock still and watching us intently. “We carried them on the horses.”

“You two, your packs and water jugs? You two weren’t looking for speed,” Edgar noted before looking up at the sky and scowling. “Troublesome. I do like you two.”

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual,” I said with a shrug.

That got a smile out of him. “Can’t say I blame you. I wouldn’t be too big a fan of anyone who decided to wake me up like that. Tell you what…let’s make sure you two don’t do anything stupid, and in the meantime, I’ll give it some thought.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means,” Edgar said, turning his hand to lay on the butt of his gun. “We’re going to let you get some clothes on, and then you’re going to behave yourselves while I come up with a plan.”

It was the smallest and slowest of movements, but I wasn’t fooled. The man wouldn’t hesitate to gun us down if it meant taking care of the problem. Where Keith seemed intent on batting us around like a cat playing with its food, Edgar was taking a far more patient, levelheaded response to the whole thing. And that he was keeping someone like Keith in line and the others quietly obedient probably meant he was the most dangerous of the entire group.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug.

“Good,” he said. “You first, and then your buddy.”

There was no helping it, but I would have preferred not to have my eyes off Elliot. Not because I was convinced he was about to do something stupid but because I didn’t trust how calm the whole situation had been. Then again, that was probably the whole point of Edgar’s friendly little charade. Not that there was any way I could argue. We were outnumbered and underpowered compared to them. Our only choice was to go along with what they said.

I made sure to move slowly toward the tent as Edgar grunted. “Get the horses. Take them back to the camp.”

Camp? That thought stuck in my head as I tried to find the clothes I’d tucked away. Thankfully, we had stuck our clothes in the corners, but it took me a moment to find a stray sock. Camp meant they were nearby, and whatever camp they’d set up had probably been where they kept however they got here. They had to have come on foot because there was no way I wouldn’t have woken up to the sound of vehicles this close, and unless they had the most silent horses in the world, we would have heard those during the conversation.

I jerked up straight when I heard the harsh sound and a string of vehement curses in Spanish. Almost immediately, it was followed by a sharp ‘No!” from Elliot and the discharge of a gun that sent me barreling out of the tent. But it was Elliot who appeared in front of me, grabbing me and stopping me from going any further as two guns turned toward me.

“What happened?” I barked, looking down to see where he’d been hit. But Elliot was fine. His eyes were wide, and I could see wetness in them, but other than that, I couldn’t see what had?—

A sharp scream rose from behind the group, and I winced at the animalistic but still horrifyingly human sound. I could only make out a shadow thrashing on the ground, and I knew at that moment it was one of our horses. In the moonlight, I could see someone walking toward it, raising their gun and firing one more time, cutting off the horse mid-shriek.

“Unfortunate,” Edgar muttered.

“What the fuck?” I demanded.

“It was Coyote,” Elliot said softly, refusing to turn around. “They were trying to get the two of them. When they grabbed Cheyenne, she tried to pull away, and when they pulled harder?—”

I didn’t understand what could have happened until their fifth group member staggered up. Even in the light of the moon I could see his arm was at an odd angle as he let out a hiss of pain. I didn’t need to know any more than that to realize what had happened.

Max had told us Coyote had a history of being extremely protective, so it made complete sense. The horse had clearly realized how tense the entire situation was, and when they tried to take Cheyenne by force, the horse did what he’d done more than once in the past. It had cost him his life, but it had also severely hurt one of the bad guys.

“Cheyenne?” I asked quietly.

“Gone,” Edgar grunted, looking annoyed. “For a horse carrying so much all day, she can ride like the wind.”

“We didn’t ride them hard,” I said between gritted teeth. I had no great love for horses but damn it all, it was hard not to like a horse willing to fight tooth and nail on its friend’s behalf, especially at the cost of his life. “It was just a stupid horse. Why shoot it?”

“The guy’s buddy did it without thinking,” Elliot said, and I could hear the tightness in his throat. I might not have known how much of his fear had been put on, but his heartbreak was genuine. He’d always had a soft spot for the animals and…things.

“Shut up,” Edgar growled at us, making Elliot stiffen.

That reaction told me everything I needed to know about what had really just happened. One of them had got hurt, and his friend had lashed out in retaliation, scaring off Cheyenne and killing Coyote. I didn’t know if he was more pissed about the loss of the horses or the fact that his men had acted so strongly without his say so…but I’d be willing to put good money on the last one.

“You,” Edgar said, pointing at Elliot. “Go get dressed and get out here.”

“Fine,” Elliot said, the fear gone from his voice and replaced by something just as shaky but far more fiery.

---