The Dog People (The Colter Saga Book 4) Page 2

  Dalton came back with what she needed. The bottle of laudanum was one of only five bottles they brought with them. Shannon had brought a supply of poppy seeds with her and hoped to make more when they were settled out west.

  “How do you know where the appendix is located?” Molly asked.

  “The book says to measure from the spine to the belly button,” Shannon said. “Then you measure one third the distance from the belly button, to make the incision. Now, everybody go somewhere else except Jezebel. I need some room. I have to do this without a bunch of gawkers hanging around.”

  The rest of the operation went quickly, as Shannon located the point of incision. She removed the small appendage from near the junction of the small and large intestine. Afterwards, everything was sterilized and stitched shut, as best Shannon could do under the conditions.

  Willie rested comfortably mainly due to the effects of the laudanum. Even after the effect of the drug wore off, Willie slept for most of the rest of the day.

  ***

  The group of dogs that went south came into camp towards evening. Matthew said the dogs found a section of the river where a series of islands and sand bars, made a crossing of the river possible. It was by some ruins that seemed deserted. A large bridge had fallen into the river loaded with old rusted cars. It created a dam, causing the river to change its course and widen becoming shallows.

  They’d also found signs of Sioux traveling along the river in large numbers. It was only a matter of time before some discovered where they were camped.

  “When do you think Willie will be able to travel?” James asked.

  “Ride a horse?” Molly asked. “I’d say two, maybe three weeks.”

  “I was thinking about a travois,” James said. “We can’t sit here for weeks. I don’t want to be here if the Sioux decide to pay us a visit.”

  “What about the river crossing?” Molly asked.

  “We’ll build a raft,” James said. “Let’s wait for Luther to come back and then we’ll decide.”

  ***

  It was two more days before Luther and the other dogs returned. Matthew, Jake, and Luther went off by themselves for a while. They finally came over to where Willie lay resting. The others gathered around him. After only two days, Willie was off the laudanum, and resting reasonably well.

  “Luther says there’s a large village of Sioux camped about a half day walk up river from here,” Matthew said. “It smelled as though they’d been there a long time. He saw no activity that indicated they were leaving soon.”

  “What does he mean ‘it smelled like they’d been there a long time’?” Willie asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Willie, the dogs don’t tell time like we do,” Matthew said. “But their sense of smell makes up for that. If Luther says it smells like they’ve been there a long time, they’ve been there a long time.”

  “This is not good,” James said. “It looks like the Sioux have come to stay. The Chippewa won’t be happy about that.”

  The Colters had made friends of the Chippewa, and made war with them against the Sioux. The Chippewa wanted the Sioux to go back to the west side of the Mississippi river, but they refused to go. The Chippewa could match the Sioux in strength, but the Sioux had stronger allied tribes. For now it was a standoff. In any case, the Colters had to get away from the Sioux, and it had to be soon.

  “Dalton and I will take a ride down river to check out the crossing point,” James said. “I’d say a day down and a day back. See what you can do, to put together a travois to carry Willie.”

  ***

  Dalton and James traveled light, and stayed away from the river to avoid meeting up with any Sioux. The Sioux could be traveling by canoe, horseback, or on foot. The morning went by quickly and the good weather held. It was in the middle of the afternoon when they reached the first sign of ruins.

  Both James and Dalton had visited ruins before, but these ruins were different. They seemed newer somehow, but ruins none the less. When Dalton was a boy, he heard rumors of a city by a river that still worked, like before the Go Back. The Go Back was little more than a faded memory even then.

  Dalton’s father had told him that before the Go Back, everything worked. Even cars and trains worked. Lights came on when you turned a switch. To heat your house, all you had to do was twist a dial. Then someone screwed everything up. Nobody knew how or why they did it. They just did.

  The city that Dalton had heard about was different. They’d managed to come through the Go Back, and keep things running like before. James and Dalton stood before the ruins wondering if this was that city. They could see some of the windows still had glass. Even some of the houses were standing. Many were burned to the ground. But, in some cases, you could still tell what color the houses had been painted. It was that recent.

  The men rode slowly around the north side of the town. The buildings became more damaged the further they rode. They rode past rusted cars that had been plated with sheets of metal. The cars were burnt and twisted wreckage. It was apparent that some sort of battle had been fought here. Whatever happened, this was fought to the death.

  You could almost envision how the battle took place. One group had built a redoubt in the center of a small town square. The other group must have surrounded them and laid siege.

  There was no way to tell how long the defenders were able to hold out. At some point, probably due to thirst or hunger, the defenders were forced to make a last desperate charge. Judging by the evidence, there had been women and children in the redoubt. Their small bones mixed with the other defenders as they were cut down.

  The glimmer of bleached bones lay scattered everywhere. As they rode further into the city, the shiny eyes of rodents peered out at them from beneath fallen walls. A lonely cur dog snuck down an alley way and disappeared into an open door. Everywhere was death and ruin.

  The men turned west and rode to the river. They went north until they came to the fallen bridge that had created the crossing point. Next to the entrance to the bridge, a sign lay in the dirt over to one side. It read ‘Welcome to Memphis – Home of the King’.

  “What do you make of that sign back there?” Dalton asked.

  “I don’t know,” James said. “I’ve heard of Memphis, I think.”

  “I meant that Home of the King, on the sign,” Dalton said. “Do you think that’s what the battle was about?”

  “It could be,” James said. “Who’d be crazy enough to set themselves up as a king these days?”

  “The sign looked really old,” Dalton said. “I think it was from before the Go Back.”

  “I don’t think so,” James said. “I’m pretty sure they had mayors, not kings.”

  “Maybe Willie knows,” Dalton said. “We’ll ask Willie when we get back.”

  Chapter 3

  It took the men a little over two hours to reach the other side of the river. They found a shelter in a small cove on the side of the river bank. There were so many ducks in the water; they called the place Duck Cove. Just before sunset, the ducks took flight with a rush of wings and feathers.

  Dalton built a small fire, while James found a small feeder stream to refill their canteens. It was after midnight, when a horse nickered and Dalton’s horse answered.

  James put the fire out and grabbed his rifle. Dalton dashed to where the horses were hobbled and waited. After a minute or so, hushed voices carried across the water. There was no moon, so visibility was limited. The riders were on the other side of the river, and after a short while moved on.

  “Do you think they were Sioux?” James asked.

  “I couldn’t tell from here,” Dalton said. “We better get out of here and soon. There’s way too much activity along this stretch of river.”

  When they got back to camp, the women had Willie sitting up with his back against a log. He was sipping on a broth made from venison and wild asparagus. Dalton told them about the river crossing and about the high level of Indian traffic
up and down the river.

  “When will Willie be ready to move?” James asked.

  “Not for a week or so,” Shannon said.

  “We can’t stay here,” Dalton said. “We have to move closer to the crossing, but in land from the river. We need to find shelter if we can. It looks like rain to me.”

  “We saw some buildings still standing by Memphis,” James said. “Maybe we can find some shelter there. What do you say Willie? Are you up for a little trip?”

  “As long as I don’t have to walk or ride,” Willie said.

  “I got a question for you anyway, Willie,” Dalton said.

  “Fire away,” Willie said.

  “When we came around the north side of Memphis, there was an old sign that said, Welcome to Memphis, Home of the King,” Dalton said. “Have you ever heard of Memphis having a king? Didn’t they have a mayor like everybody else?”

  “I never heard about a king of Memphis,” Willie said. “Of course, anything was possible before the Go Back.”

  ***

  James suggested they travel at night, along an old road bed running beside the river. They were less likely to encounter the Sioux, and Willie would have a smoother ride in the travois. It started to rain just past midnight. They threw a blanket and tarp over Willie and pressed on.

  It was just after daylight, when they came upon an old farm house and barn still standing. The house was leaning so badly to one side, no one was willing to go inside it. The barn was in slightly better shape. Unfortunately, there so many rats they decided to move on, rain or not.

  They came to a road that led away from the river. They needed to find a more secluded spot to rest, so they followed it. A mile down the road, they found a collapsed farmhouse with a sturdy barn and silo make from logs. The roof was intact. The best news was several feral cats occupied the barn, holding the rodent population in check.

  Dalton went hunting and within a half hour, had a small buck field dressed and ready for the spit. It rained that night, and stopped just before dawn. The barn was dry and Willie was feeling better the next morning. They got him up on his feet and helped him walk a short distance.

  Dalton and James decided to ride into downtown Memphis to take a look around. Molly said she was going with them. The three saddled up, checked their weapons, and rode towards the east side of the city. They entered the ruins, alert to the possibility of an ambush. There was a column of smoke drifting into the sky, some distance from where they entered the city.

  They pulled their horses up when a group of young people came out from a hole in the ground, a half a block from where they rode. The small ones were so dirty it was hard to tell young from old, girl from boy. They hung back, while two of the older ones stepped forward.

  Molly and James rode up to where the two older ones stood. Dalton held back from the others, flipped his coat off his holster, and loosened his pistol from the leather loop. The boy seemed to Molly to be twelve or thirteen. With malnutrition though, it was sometimes hard to tell their age. The girl looked to be sixteen or so. She stepped forward to speak.

  “Do you have any food?” She asked in almost a whisper.

  “Who are you?” Molly asked.

  “The food is for the little ones,” the girl said. “It’s not for me.”

  “What happened here?” James asked. “We saw where there was a big fight here some time ago. There were some old cars, burnt buildings, and scattered bones.”

  “The bones were our parents,” the girl said. “They were killed by some strangers. There’s only a few of those strangers left.”

  “Do they bother you?” Molly asked.

  “They don’t like us much,” the girl said. “They try to catch us, but we get away, mostly.”

  “What happens if they take you prisoner?” James asked.

  “They kill us,” the girl said.

  ***

  It took most of the rest of the day and a large chunk of venison, to get the full story of what had happened. There had been a civil war of sorts, two and half years ago. The parents of the children were on the losing side. Like most civil wars, there was nothing civil about it. It started with sniper rifles and ended with clubs and sticks.

  The girl who spoke for the group was named Mira. She was fourteen. Her twelve year old brother was called Buster. She told how a group, who called themselves the Mission, came into the city a little over four years ago. It was okay for a while. They acted friendly and all.

  Then they told the people living here, that God spoke only to them. They were on a mission to save the world. God had told them to take all the women of the town into their church. When the residents refused, the Mission people began to kill the men of the town. Mira’s father had been one of the first. Pretty soon they killed the women who refused to join them, too. Then they started killing the children.

  “Listen,” James said. “We’re camped outside of town, about four miles from here. It’s a big barn, and it would get you and the children out of this place.”

  “Maybe there’s a town around here that might be willing take you in,” Dalton said.

  Both the girl and boy began backing away from them and shook their heads. The other children took the sign, and disappeared down a hole under the nearest building.

  “We couldn’t do that,” the girl said, as she and her brother backed away.

  “Why not?” Dalton asked, watching Buster disappear down the hole under the nearest building.

  “Who would avenge our parents?” the girl asked, as she followed her brother.

  ***

  The return to the barn was somber. Insanity was frightening and depressing, all at the same time. Molly told everyone of what they found in Memphis. Willie was willing to risk the river crossing in a travois, if it got them out of this part of the country. The next morning they rose early, packed, and started towards the river. They stayed on the bluff above the river until a group of twenty Sioux warriors rode by in single file.

  “Why haven’t we seen any boats or canoes on the river?” Dalton asked.

  “Good question,” James asked. “It does seem odd. As shallow as the river is here, you’d think there would be canoes all over the place.”

  “Should we wait for dark to make the crossing?” Molly asked.

  “Dalton?” James asked. “What do you think? Should we try it?”

  “If we’re going to drag Willie and a travois across this thing, we’d better do it in the daylight,” Dalton said.

  “Hey!” Willie said. “You don’t have to drag me anywhere! I’ll walk across this little stream if I have to.”

  “Settle down Willie,” Molly said. “Dalton didn’t mean anything by that. Did you Dalton?”

  “Of course not Willie,” Dalton said. “It’s just that you’ve been laying around with a tummy ache about long enough. We got other things to do than wait on you, hand and foot, is all.”

  Everyone had a good laugh, as Willie picked up a stick and threw it at Dalton.

  The group hurried across the river as best they could. They were relieved when they got into the trees on the far side. They turned south and after a few miles, they stopped by roaring rapids. The Mississippi regained its banks and depth downstream.

  “This explains why there are no canoes on the river,” James shouted over the roar of the rapids.

  The group turned west and headed into northern Arkansas, glad to finally be heading west again. The landscape they passed through was heavy woods. There were signs of wildlife were everywhere.

  They were forced to travel short distances, since the travois was of almost no use in the woods. Willie grew stronger and could finally ride short distances.

  It was the first of August when they came upon the settlement. The cabins sat along the White River, just north of the forks.

  It was hot and dry, even for August in Arkansas. Clouds of red dust puffed up with each step the horses took. The buzzing racket of Cicadas in the trees was the only sound as they entered t
he village. James pulled up in front of the largest cabin.

  “Hello, in there!” James called.

  A man of about forty stepped out of the door and onto the wide porch. A woman with two small children, followed closely behind. The youngest boy peeked out from behind his father’s leg and gave a tiny wave of one hand to the visitors.

  “Good day, sir,” James said. “You have a lovely village here. Does it have a name?”

  “This is the village of Harmony,” the man said. “My name is Andrew Jenkins, and this is my wife Beth.”

  James made the introductions of everyone. He looked around and saw the dogs were gone. He was never sure how the dogs would react to new places. They typically stayed on the fringe of things, watching. It’s just the way they were.

  “Would you have a barn, or somewhere we could get shelter tonight?” James asked.

  “You’ll not be sleeping in a barn tonight,” Andrew said. We have plenty of room and a loft that you’re welcome to share.”

  “We are much obliged, Mr. Jenkins,” Molly said. “But we’re traveling with a number of dogs. I know it sounds strange, sir, but we’d really think it would be best for everyone, if the dogs stay with us.”

  “Where are these dogs?” Andrew asked.

  “Matthew, call the dogs into town,” Molly said.

  “All of them?” Matthew asked.

  “Yes,” Molly said. “Bring them all in.”

  Matthew looked up in the air for a few moments, and then at Molly smiling. By this time, a number of people had emerged from their cabins and stood looking towards the Jenkins place. Andrew was the elected mayor of the town, and so it seemed right that he and his family greet the strangers.

  “They’re coming,” Matthew said, turning in his saddle to look back down the road toward the edge of town.

  There was an audible intake of breath by the onlookers, as the dogs entered the town. Jake walked out front with the other dogs following in pairs. The huge black dogs could have been bears, as far as the town people were concerned. Many of the town people grabbed their children and hurried indoors. The dogs arrived and stood staring up at Andrew Jenkins.