The Trail To Paradise

Time Is The Enemy

The caravan continued on its course. After a few more hours of travel, they reached the first stop. Tad had his men push the wagon into the ravine that had carried the evidence of the battle with the Hunters. He hoped this would be enough to hold off a pursuit team. After everything was disposed of, they decided to make camp early. While it was a waste of half a day, it had been a hard push to arrive at the canyon so quickly. It had been necessary. There was not any way to know the location of enemies, so he had sent a couple men out to scout. Though they lacked experience, his instructions had been simple enough. Ride in any direction for a few hours, look around, head back. Watch for any patrols. At this rate the farmers would all end up soldiers.

An hour before sunset, one of his riders could be seen in the distance. It was Greg. That man would end up a soldier for sure. The horse appeared to be at a full gallop. That was never a good sign. Tad hopped on his own horse and rode out to meet Greg, who was slumped over his horse. "Greg! What happened?"

"Boss, it's safe to say we aren't alone out here. Hunters. They must be searching for the others. I counted about eighteen of them. They have a camp with four wagons and deadpan aim. I'm lucky it was only a shoulder."

"Holy s**t! Well let's keep the numbers between us for now. If we get these people in a panic they might scatter. There'd be no escape then. I'm glad we rested this long. Gonna have to do some night travel. Get yourself to the medical wagon and get that looked at. You won't be of any use if you get an infection."

"I surely will. I hope they don't run into Simon. We aren't very good soldiers, but we aim to try."

"It impresses me on a daily basis how good you are at this. Now get going."

That wound hadn't looked great, but there really was no reason to cause a panic. Level heads were needed for this. Riding back, Tad began to give out orders. He apologized, but told the rest of the caravan they would have to move. There was no point in hiding what they were getting away from. An explanation would be expected and knowing Greg was hurt would start tongues wagging.

Within half an hour, everyone was ready to move and knew there was a Hunters group getting too close for comfort. The wagons moved along quietly by faintest of light. Luck could carry them through this night. Tad prayed they hadn't got Simon. Losing men would be taken personally from this moment on.

*

The sun had been up for a few hours when the Hunters made it to the ravine. They had been told they would find deserters here. If you could not trust someone being tortured, who could you trust?

"It seems they heard we were coming. There are signs of a camp here. Not settled in, but it started to be. I knew we should've hurt that traitor more than we had!"

"Now Jerry, that's no way to speak about someone not long for the afterlife. He'll bleed out for his sins. Should've been more forthcoming."

"What do we do now? Keep chasing?"

"We will crash for a couple hours here. They have a head start and we couldn't catch a cold if we lost our mounts to exhaustion, much less a caravan. Good thing we left the wagons behind. I'm looking forward to the chase. They won't get away."

"Alright, Flint. I'll tell the boys to prepare to bed down for some rest."

"You do that. And bring me the one that let that straggler get away. We can't excuse this level of incompetence."

A few minutes went by before Jerry returned with an older gentleman. "It was Sutton here who took the shot."

"Sutton. How long have you been in my group?"

Sutton was visibly shaken by the fact he had been summoned. There was never a positive reason. Flint's idea of recognition was leaving you alive. Everything else was punishment. "Five years... Flint. A good while."

"It occurs to me that that's plenty long enough to know how things are done. Would you agree?"

"Y… yes… sir."

"So why in the name of our dear Lord and Savior, would you take a shot that you couldn't have made with a hundred tries? I can't think of a reason why you'd ignore our rules. If you can't make the shot, wait for someone who could. It's that damn simple."

"I only wanted... to be of use. I'd hoped I'd pull this one off..."

"You hoped? Well that shot you took most likely tipped these fellas off and they managed to skedaddle before we arrived. Would you agree to that possibility?"

"Yes, sir. I just thought..."

Flint stopped him with a look. "You thought? Your thought processes have the same speed as two turtles humping in cold molasses. I didn't keep you around to think. I expect you to follow the simplest f*****g rules!" The men were all silent now. They were curious what was going to happen. "For such a complete blunder, there's only one way forward."

Pulling his gun, he shot Sutton through both legs. "Throw him in the ravine. If he survives all of that, I'll forgive him. All of you gathered around. You're all here because I deem you a higher caliber than regular thugs. You follow the rules and we don't waste time. It's a well known fact that I don't need you to deviate from these rules. I don't like wasting men, but I won't coddle incompetence. I'm assuming that y'all get it. Do I need to explain anything more clearly?"

A chorus of "No, sir" rang out from the men.

"Well let's quit with the lollygagging and get bedded down. You have four hours until we get riding again. Don't waste it. We'll be moving like this til we catch up."

They all went about their business. You had to have a firm hand when you ran with a group like this. If they got ideas, things could get a bit dicey.

Flint laid in his own bed. His men had finished setting it up while he was correcting Sutton's mistake. Everyone was quiet. The only sound in the camp was the wicker of horses and the scream that Sutton let out before it was suddenly silenced on the canyon floor.