The Crimson Trail

By Ernest Salotti

Zak had been travelling around Arizona and Southern California undirected, until he entered the town of Parker, California. His life changed that day when, unexpectedly, he protected a man and his wife from a bunch of marauding killers. From then on, Zak found direction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662410604

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The Crimson Trail

Ernest Salotti

Copyright © 2021 Ernest Salotti

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-6624-1059-8 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-1060-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Leaving the Desert

Zak’s Second Encounter

The Chase

Victorville Search

Journey On

Decisions

The Job

Zak’s New Life

The Challenges

Face-to-Face

The Discussions

The Beginning of a Showdown

The Plan

Turn About

Change of Direction

The Chase

Another World

Back in Baker

The Turning Point

Returned

Boulder City

The Countdown

The Conclusion

Home

The End

This book is dedicated to

my wife, Patricia Salotti.

Without her input the story

could never have become

the exciting story it is.

Chapter 1

Leaving the Desert

Young Zak had been in the saddle for a week after leaving the small town of Parker, California, and for the last two days, he had been crossing the south end of the Mojave with no water. He realized his dry mouth and parched lips were of small concern compared to that of his horse, Hope, badly in need of water. He hated to push the horse so hard but he needed to reach water in the hills ahead.

Hope plodded on, and Zak dozed in the saddle. Finally, just before sundown, they moved into the foothills where the cooling shade of mountain peaks protected them from the grilling sun.

The dozing was interrupted when Hope stopped abruptly. Zak opened his eyes in sheer joy to see the horse drinking from a cool mountain stream, and then he slid his six-foot, two-hundred-forty-pound body from the saddle and submerged his head in the cool lifesaving water.

The hard ride was over. Zak set up camp, unsaddled the horse, and staked him out in a grassy spot nearby. Next, Zak relaxed by the campfire, ate some jerky, corn pone, and wild green onions, and then washed it all down with some good, strong coffee. As he lay back on his saddle, he felt good about beating the odds and he nodded off to sleep.

Zak was chilled later in the night when the fire died back. He sat up and tossed more wood on the coals, suddenly, off in the distance, he heard a horse snort. He pulled his Colt from its holster, slid it down beside his leg, and covered it with his blanket.

The horse snorted again, this time much closer. Zak could hear the horse’s hooves getting louder and nearer, and he saw a glimpse of the horseman through the flames of his campfire. He pulled back the hammer of his Colt and watched the rider for any deadly move.

The rider stopped at the edge of the campsite, looked over the area, and then asked, Mind if I warm myself by your fire?

The rider was a tall slim man with a black straight brimmed hat that was pulled down, partly covering his eyes. The rifle laid across his lap concerned Zak, but he answered, Sure, get down and warm yourself.

Thanks, replied the rider as he stepped down from his horse.

Zak watched the rider tie his horse to a bush, walk over to the fire, and sit down on a log. Your coffee smells good, he said.

Feel free to help yourself, Zak responded.

The rider poured the coffee and sipped it slowly, then warm his hands on the tin cup.

Zak eased the revolver hammer back down and slid it back into his holster. He threw the blanket and sat up against his saddle and then asked, What’s your handle?

The rider spit into the fire and appeared to ponder whether or not to give his true name. Then he said, It’s Maxwell Hunt, but everybody calls me Max. What’s your name, cowboy?

I’m Zak.

Zak who? Max questioned.

Zak explained, As a boy, I lived alone on the streets of Yuma. Everyone just called me Zak, and my last name just seemed to fade away.

Just Zak is okay with me, Max said and he lifted his cup for another sip of coffee.

Where are ya headin’? Zak asked.

I’m heading north to the Oregon Territory. Where are you headed? Max asked.

I’m headin’ for Colorado, Zak responded. Max, why don’t you take the saddle off your horse and stay the night.

Thanks, I’ll hobble my mount next to yours, agreed Max.

Max tended to his horse and returned to the campfire. He prepared his bed with his saddle and then poured another cup of coffee. He held up the pot. More coffee, Zak?

Zak nodded and lifted his cup for a refill.

The two men sipped their coffee and watched the flames dancing in the darkness as their conversation continued.

Where did you come from, Zak?

I came from Parker, Zak responded.

Did you live there?

No, I stopped to water my horse at a community well and ended up staying for a week. I needed to help a family in trouble, Zak said.

What trouble?

Zak explained that while he was watering his horse, a man and his wife pulled their wagon up to the well and began filling their water kegs. Six men rode up and watched them for a while. The traveler became irritated and looked up at the rough-looking horsemen and demanded what they wanted. One of the horsemen bellowed out that the traveler must pay for the water and his well.

The traveler shouted back angrily, This water is community water. I’m not paying you one penny!

That outraged the rough-looking horseman, and he replied that he had five men to back him, and told him he would pay or get the hell beat out of him.

What did the traveler do? Max questioned.

Zak explained that the traveler knew he couldn’t fight the thieves and told the apparent leader that he didn’t have any money and that he would pour the water back.

I’ll bet that response really pissed the bastard off, Max said.

You’re right, Max. The traveler’s really infuriated the leader. He laughed a sadistic laugh and said to let him have his woman for a while and he’d give him the water.

What happened next? Max asked.

Zak smiled and said, The traveler shouted, ‘No! You rotten son of a bitch!’

Again, Max asked, What happened?

Zak sipped his coffee as he pondered how to tell what happened, and then he explained, It sent the leader into a rage. He dropped one end of a long leather whip, slung it over his head, and, without a loss of motion, wrapped the end of the whip around the traveler’s neck. The traveler grabbed at the whip, but before he could do anything, the leader had jerked him to the ground and started whipping him.

Was the woman safe or did they go after her? Max questioned.

No. The riders just watched her standing by the wagon, screaming. The screaming seemed to excite the leader every time the tip of the whip ripped at the traveler’s flesh. The leader shouted at the woman to come with him and he would stop whipping her man.

Did she go with him? Max asked.

Zak continued, The woman didn’t respond. She just dropped her head into her hands, and the leader continued whipping her husband. Droplets of blood flew into the air, splattering onto the wife’s face, and she screamed out to stop beating him and that she would go with the leader. When she said that, I couldn’t let that pig destroy their family. I shouted at the madman to stop! He turned in his saddle to look at me. He pointed at me and shouted to his men to shoot me. I suddenly realized I had put myself in the middle of a deadly situation and I had to save my ass. Without thinking, I pulled my Colt and shot the maniacal leader as I dove to the ground and rolled to the right, shooting one of his men. That quick action shocked the hell out of the other four riders, and they rode off without challenging me, Zak said with a chuckle.

Man, that was some fast action. Was that the end of it? Max asked.

Yes, but I stayed in Parker to make sure that bunch of killers didn’t come back. I also helped the man’s wife set up camp and stayed with them until her husband felt he could move on, Zak said.

That’s quite a story. Do you think these men will look for you?

No. these men will probably leave Parker to regroup. They will drink and argue over who will be their next leader and recruit more men before they do anything. By that time, the travelers, John and Mary Stump, will be gone. As for me, they’ll not want to tangle with me again. They saw what I can do.

With Zak’s story finished, he laid a couple more logs on the fire and said, Max, let’s get some sleep.

For the rest of the night, the two men slept by a dancing fire.

The morning sun pushed back the cold night, waking Zak. He rose quickly, got up, stoked up the embers, and started breakfast.

The coffee aroma brought Max to life. Coffee smells good, he said.

Come on, Max, get up. I want to make it to Essex before nightfall, Zak urged.

Max pulled his body out of the bedroll, sidled up to the fire, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Zak filled a tin plate with fatback and flapjacks and handed it to Max. Then they sat by the fire and ate.

Zak stated again that he was heading to Essex and asked Max if he wanted to go with him and rest up for a couple days before heading north.

No thanks, I need to get north to Oregon, Max responded.

After eating, the two men mounted their horses, said their goodbyes, and rode off in different directions.

Zak started down the mountain road with a good feeling, and after several hours of riding, he was down the mountain and onto a flat road that wound over low rolling hills.

At midday, he saw a ranch off in the distance that was a good place to stop for water. As he rode closer, he could see an adobe house encircled by a wooden rail fence. To the east of the house was a horse shed and a corral.

Zak rode until he came to the rail fence entry. He stopped and scanned the house; the front door was ajar, some sun-bleached curtains swayed lazily in an open window, and no one appeared to be there. An eerie feeling came over him, and he placed his hand on his Colt revolver.

Zak nudged Hope to continue through the entry and on toward the house. As he rode, he sensed that he was being watched and he flipped the leather thong from his revolver hammer. He pulled Hope up to the hitching rail, cautiously stepped to the ground, tied Hope to the rail, and looked around. His hand moved to his revolver again, and he walked toward the front doorway.

As he approached, he was startled by a voice saying, Stop right there, or I’ll shoot!

The voice was that of a female and it sounded weak.

Zak spoke. I’m just a cowboy riding through. I stopped only for water.

I don’t have any water! Move on! the voice directed.

This woman sounds like she needs help, thought Zak, and he responded again, It sounds like you need help, ma’am. Don’t shoot. I’m coming in to help you. He stepped into the doorway with his arms raised and then repeated, Let me help you, please!

There was no response.

Zak’s eyes darted around a ransacked room. There was no sign of the woman. He moved toward a curtain that hung on another doorway and pulled it back. A rifle lay across a disheveled bed, and on the floor, at the foot of the bed, was the woman, unconscious. Her clothes were ripped and fragmented on her body, and her back was covered in long bloody lacerations. She was barely alive.

Chapter 2

Zak’s Second Encounter

Zak immediately picked up the unconscious woman and laid her facedown on the bed to protect her back. He felt despair for the woman suffering as he examined her cuts. He retrieved water from the kitchen and a little whisky (he found in a broken bottle) to kill germs in her cuts and then he began to clean her wounds. When he looked closely, the cuts were the same as the cuts on the back of Mr. Stump in Parker, California. They were made by a whip!

When her wounds were cleaned, he pulled back her hair, dried with blood, to look at her face; she feebly opened her eyes and then closed them. Good, she’s still alive, Zak reasoned as he gently washed her face.

Now to cover the cuts…, he said to himself. He rummaged around the bedroom for some clean rags. He found a sheet and ripped it into strips for bandages.

Now the hard part, Zak contemplated. He sat the woman up and removed the front of her dress so he could wrap the bandages around her body to cover her wounds. When her breast was exposed, he saw cuts and bruising made by someone’s hands. Zak felt very uncomfortable cleaning the cuts on her bare breast, and he lost no time wrapping her body and replacing her torn dress top. Then he placed her gently in bed.

Zak left the house and untied Hope, fed and watered him, and secured him in the shed. When he returned to the house, he started a fire in the fireplace and closed the window shutters to keep out the chill. Soon warmth filled the room.

Zak sat down by the fire in an old homemade rocker, removed a little jerky and corn pone from his knapsack, and ate. Then he dozed off. His sleep was interrupted by the woman moaning.

He rushed to the woman’s bedside to find himself in a situation he had never confronted before. The woman managed to sit up and was holding the blanket up to her neck. She started screaming at the sight of Zak. Get away from me! she screamed.

Her screaming didn’t last long; she was so weak and in pain that she dropped her head and began to weep.

Take it easy, lady. I’m not here to hurt you. I stopped for water and found the front door open, and you were lying on the floor. I put you on the bed and tended to your wounds, Zak clarified.

The woman looked at her bandages and then up at Zak. Her eyes searched his face for the truth. Did you bandage me? she asked.

Yes, but wait, he said. Zak left the room and returned with a cup of coffee. Here drink this. It will make you feel better.

The woman accepted the coffee and sipped the hot stimulant. Thank you, she said and then took another sip.

Zak nodded in agreement and asked, Would you like something else?

No, I’m okay with just this coffee, she answered.

Zak smiled.

What’s your name? the woman asked.

I’m Zak.

That’s a nice name, the woman said.

What do you want me to call you? Zak questioned.

This question appeared to make her feel good, and she said, Rebecca Waters.

That’s a beautiful name, Mrs. Waters. But tell me, what happened to you? And where is your husband?

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice cracked. My husband is dead.

Tell me what happened, Zak pressed.

Rebecca continued to weep.

You don’t have to say anything, Zak remarked gently.

No, I’ll tell you, she said and continued to tell Zak what happened. Six men rode up to the house, and her husband, Bob, went out to meet them. I was watching from the kitchen window, and I heard one man ask Bob if they could water their horses. Bob told them to have their fill. The men got off their horses and let the horses drink. One man walked over to Bob and asked for food. I could hear Bob tell the man we had no food prepared.

Rebecca dropped her head and wept again.

Zak urged her on. What happened next, Mrs. Waters?

Rebecca curbed her tears and resumed the story. The man walked away but suddenly turned and bellowed out for Bob to get inside of the house and feed them! I heard Bob shout back that he wasn’t going to take them into his home and for them to get off of his property!

Rebecca began crying again.

Don’t say any more, Zak said in a low and comforting voice.

No, I need to talk about this nightmare to get it out of my head, Rebecca explained unrelentingly.

Okay, go ahead but take your time, Zak said.

Rebecca started again. After Bob shouted at the leader to leave, the leader mounted his horse, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he removed a long whip from his saddle, swung it over his head, lashed Bob around the neck, and jerked him to the ground. Bob grabbed the whip, but the crazy man jerked it out of his hands and began cursing and whipping him until my poor Bob fell to the ground, unconscious. I could see Bob’s back, it was a mass of blood, Rebecca explained vividly as she wiped her tears.

Then what happened? Zak queried.

Rebecca went on explaining that two men dragged Bob to the back of the house and left him to die. Then the leader shouted at me through the window to fix food for him immediately. I started getting food from the stove to feed the men as they came in the house and sat down at the table. They were screaming for food. While they screamed, the leader walked to the fireplace to warm himself. He laughed and made fun of what they had done to my poor Bob and then what they would like to do to me.

Do you want to stop and let me get you some water? Zak asked.

Rebecca shuddered and shook her head.

That evil son of a bitch, Zak exclaimed.

Yes, and he didn’t stop there, she said. Next, he threw me on the floor. There was fire in his eyes when he shouted to his men, ‘Put her on the table! I’m going to show her what a real man is like!’

Rebecca wiped her eyes and nose before she began again. "I begged them not to