Chapter 7 - Mission Accomplished

   Day one of the ride back to Chuparosa transpired without much incident. Sure, Bradacus had blown the rattle off a rattlesnake while performing a one arm-ed handstand on his buffalo's back, and Leaking Pan tackled a wild and naked Wilko, but this was all within a normal day's range of operations.

   When it was too dark to continue, the group set up camp and started a fire.

   Reno puffed heartily on a wooden pipe, his green tobacco flaring with red embers with each pull. He passed the pipe around for all. Needless to say, he was a welcome addition to the team.

   “Give me those strips of horse meat,” Reno politely suggested. He cut the meat into thin round slices, adding a special blend of herbs and spices from his own garden before laying them in a frying pan.

   They sizzled for a few minutes. The aroma was stimulating.

   “There ya are, eh!” he announced once they were done. “Kanadian bacon. Enjoy!”

   And they did.

   When they arose the next morning, it was with great surprise they were greeted by Echo Twenty Aught Seven, a prisoner in his custody.

   “What have you got there, Echo?” Bradacus asked curiously, peering against the sun.

   “I wasn't the only one following you,” he said simply, running his fingers through his long beard. He threw the bound woman dressed in all black at Bradacus' feet.

   It was the ninja!

   Leaking Pan squinted, feeling uneasy. He watched Brad carefully, wondering what his next order would be.

   Bradacus kicked dirt in the ninja's face and paced around her slowly, considering the best course of action.

   “We could kill you now,” he said, thinking aloud. “But then we wouldn't know why you insist on following us.”

   Burning Zee's eyes burned with violence. “We should kill her and be done with her. She can't report anything when she's dead.”

   Bradacus considered it.

   “One chance I give you,” he said directly to the tied ninja. “Why are you following us?”

   Laurinda straightened to a sitting position and spoke, her blue hair intertwined with twigs and dirt. “At the saloon, it was obvious you gentlemen were planning something. I wanted to discover what it was and use it to my advantage.”

   Bradacus let out a loud laugh. He wasn't expecting such honesty.

   “Your truthfulness has earned you your life,” he declared. “For now.”

Brad's smile turned into a snarl as he saw the two horses standing behind Echo. Their smell was nearly unbearable.

   His gun already out, he fired six shots in rapid succession, his ire perfectly finding its mark.

   Laurinda's horse dropped to the ground with a shriek, its bullet-ridden body leaking blood over the dirt road.

   He walked over to its corpse and pissed on its head.

   “Nothing beats a dead horse,” he announced happily. He then turned to Echo. “I suggest you ride on without us. I'm not fond of horses.”

   Echo raised an eyebrow and mounted his steed, snapping the reins and disappearing down the trail.

   “What we do with her?” Pancake asked simply.

   “Lay her across the back of your horse. If she falls, leave her. If not, we'll question her more at Chuparosa.”

   Pancake took out a measure of rope and added another layer of knots. When he finished, he slung the doubly-bound ninja across his horse and the group continued plodding southward.

   Night fell. Burning Zee, as usual, broke into song and Pancake grilled his famous horse burgers on the fire.

   “Shrimp, oh ye delicious glockenspiel!

   “Prawn, ye wonderful xylophone!

   “Lobsterrrr timpani!”

   Zee banged on his guitar rhythmically.

   “Sea horse, get ye away from me!”

   Zee continued the song, delighting his friends with images of crabby bongos, shark cowbell, and whale tuba. The group munched on their burgers contentedly and Reno was kind enough to pass his tobacco around. Fine food, fantastic tunes, and living free with your friends. Life didn't get much better.

   “Here,” Leaking Pan offered, holding a burger to Laurinda's mouth as she stood tied to a tree. Hesitantly she took a bite. The more she ate, the more exquisite the horse meat tasted.

  Having eaten his fill, Bradacus tipped his ushanka to his friends before entering his tent. “Sleep well, boys.”

   Hours passed. When Pan was satisfied the crew was fast asleep, he carefully exited his tent, making sure he made no noise.

   Walking quietly to the tree to which Laurinda was tied, he put one finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet.

   When he reached her, he stopped inches from her face, not saying a word, staring into her eyes as if to say, “Trust me.”

   He circled behind her and began working on the knots to release her. Even though it seemed foolhardy, he knew he had to let her go. It was the right thing to do.

   “Oi!” Wilko shouted, alerting the camp to some disaster. “Get your sleeping asses out here!”

   The sun had not quite risen, but everyone scrambled from their tent to see what the fuss was.

   “What the devil?” Brad screamed in disbelief, seeing the empty ropes by the tree.

   “How?” Pancake wondered, scratching his sweet fro. “I tied those knots myself.”

   “You forget she's a ninja,” Leaking Pan suggested coolly. “No doubt she's trained to get out of the best of knots.”

   “That's for dern sure,” Cake agreed gloomily, still not able to wrap his head around how she managed to escape.

   “It doesn't matter,” Bradacus stated. “She didn't take our buffaloes. She can't beat us to Chuparosa or the McFartland's. No time for breakfast, I'm afraid. We ride!”

   The final day's journey home was soured by Laurinda's unexpected escape. Fortunately, a wandering spider bit Wilko in the leg, which for some reason induced a priapism in him lasting over eight hours. It should've been disconcerting, but it wasn't. It was hilarious. Wilko riding at full mast made for wonderful entertainment. It also, they realized, explained yet another reason why Wilko was so appropriately called Nine Shot.

   It was twilight when the wayworn men arrived at Kappa Kafe & Saloon. They tied their buffaloes next to the watering trough and wearily ambled toward the saloon. Before they could reach the swinging doors, Bradacus spotted of small figure struggling to make its way toward him.

   “No,” he muttered under his breath, not believing his eyes. He ran toward the furry creature that battled to place one leg in front of the other.

   “No!” he shouted as he got closer, clearly seeing that the animal laboring toward him was his messenger guinea Collin.

   Collin was in rough shape. His breathing was shallow and labored. His fur was stained red. Upon closer inspection, Brad could make out several serpent-like bite marks.

   “Water!” he bellowed, not taking his eyes off his beloved pet.

   Wilko handed him his canteen. Brad wasted no time cleaning Collin's wounds and binding them with small strips of cloth cut from his shirt.

   Based upon the dried nature of the blood, Brad knew these wounds were inflicted some time ago. How hard Collin must have fought to make it this far!

   He clenched his fist and slammed it into the ground.

   Then, ever so gently, Brad picked up his furry friend and held him close to his chest, clinging to the hope that the bites weren't venomous.

   He rocked his guinea pig lightly, humming and whispering words of comfort. Time stood still as Brad tried to channel his strength into his small friend.

   Not wanting to disturb them, the crew gave Brad and Collin their space and sat near the buffaloes, keeping an eye on them should they require anything.

   Collin whimpered and drew in a small, final breath. He had fulfilled his mission. He made it, despite the odds.

   Not far away, a wolf howled.

   Bradacus wept.

   How he loved him.

   Could not he have caused that this messenger guinea should not have died?

   He buried his face into Collin's unmoving body and cried.

John 11

35 Jesus wept. 36 Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him! 37 And some of them said, Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died?