4:00 PM, September 2nd, 2199. Mile 10, The Temblor Traverse.
They had found themselves in the unlikely position of sitting atop of Pylar’s Peak, at mile 10 of the Temblor Traverse, lying in the tall grass on their bellies like a couple of lizards staring down into the small valley below them at the three riders on horseback calmly making their way along the trailhead leading toward the southwest. Even though they were at least by Mox’s estimation a full two miles above the riders, they remained perfectly still. He studied them for a time before turning to Trip, who seemed deeply disturbed at the very thought of being detected by the three. Mox said nothing but instead returned his attention to the three riders who had then stopped, the lead rider dismounted and was kneeling down to inspect the trail in front of them, they did appear to be tracking something or someone, the boys lay still in the tall grass as they continued to watch them until they eventually turned away and began to move in the opposite direction. When they disappeared from view, Mox finally rose to his knees and collapsed the spyglass.
“They definitely match the description of the guys that Tucker was talking about.” He said.
Trip said nothing in response but nodded his head in agreement. They both got to their feet and resumed their trek along the Temblor, the closer they drew to the Maricopa, the more the temperature rose, soon they would be needing to seek shelter from the sun. They still had plenty of stock left of dried fruit, dehydrated beef and jerked chicken, but they would be needing to turn off the trail soon to head to a secluded spot further along a narrow cutoff path that not too many people traveled to from the Temblor, it was a rocky narrow cavern along the side of the trail called Pestal Gorge, it would take some effort to get down to it, but the reward would be a cool spot out of the sun, a place to build a small fire after dark, and cool pools of fresh clean water to replenish their supplies with before they made it to Lake Bethany in the Maricopa. Carefully, they made their way down into Pestal Gorge and climbed along the rocks to get to the pools, once in the shade they stopped to unload their packs, They gathered wood from a dead ironwood tree that had uprooted, and built a stone fire pit along the rocky side of the cavern walls and settled in for the night. They were now just about nine miles away before the Temblor would be turning into the Pacific Trail.
The sun rose over the rocks at their backs the next morning, and Trip rose to find Mox hurriedly putting out the fire. He held his forefinger to his lips and motioned for Trip to be still. He pointed up when Trip began to realize that something or someone was moving along the rocks above them, they both pulled on their packs and unharnessed their crossbow’s and loaded them. The wait wasn’t long as a short, thin dirty looking young man made his way down the rocks toward the water's edge, both Mox and Trip instinctively stepped back into the shadows and waited, he staggered forward into the cold pool of water and began to drink feverishly, Mox trained the crossbow on him, watching his every move. When he finally began to realize that he had stumbled upon someone’s campsite he slowly lifted his head from the water and slowly backed away turning completely around to look at Mox and then at Trip. he slowly hoisted both hands in the air at the very sight of two high tension crossbows pointed in his direction, Mox stepped out into the open, all the while keeping the crossbow trained on his target, Trip moved slowly to his right, neither letting their guard down.
“I don't want any trouble, I was just needing a drink of water, I haven’t had any in quite a while.” He said.
“Who are you? and where did you come from?” Mox asked in a suspicious tome.
“My name is Hiram Midler, I came down here from Coppers Mill, I’m just traveling through, and I got a little lost. Please- I don’t want to die, I just needed some water!” He answered nervously.
“Coppers Mill? Isn’t that all the way past Klamath to the east of here? That’s a long way to be traveling alone on foot, mister, so who are you with?” Mox asked impatiently.
“No! I’m not with anybody-well… I was, but he went his own way a day and a half ago, he said some guys were following him, and he was going to try to lose them by heading southwest up into the rocks and desert. But I don’t think it worked, though.” He answered, sounding more nervous than ever.
“Why do you think it didn’t work?”
“Because I hung back and hid, and waited to see if they would follow him, about an hour later three riders on horseback showed up, and it took them about two minutes to pick up his trail, they went right up behind him, I don’t know for sure if they caught him or not. I didn’t stick around to find out, neither.”
“So who was he? and who are they? where did they come from?”
“I don’t know who any of them were. I met up with him outside of Coppers Mill, and he said that he was headed to a place called Sawtooth up near the coast, it wasn’t up until about three days ago that we first figured out that those three riders tracked him from where ever they were from.”
“So you travelled over 180 miles with a man on foot, and you never once caught his name? or knew where he was from? Sorry, man, but I’m not buying that.” Trip added.
“Look-we weren’t on foot the whole ways, we HAD horses, but they were stolen in the middle of the night about six nights ago. Look- I think he was from some place way up in the mountains, I never knew exactly where, though. now- I’m just trying to stay alive.”
"Do you have anything to carry any water in?" Mox asked.
"Just my bota bag. it holds enough, I reckon." He answered.
"Fill it." Mox told him flatly. "And then get up to the top of this trail right here, when you do- head to the south, stay on that trail, and it'll take you to the next water which is about a seven-hour hike from here if you're lucky. And don't even think about turning back to follow us. Trip here already put an arrow through one man, one more wouldn't make any difference to us."
After deciding that he needed to go on his own way, Mox and Trip let the stranger get a good way ahead of them before leaving the safety of Pestal Gorge they still didn’t know who he was or who the three men following him and his friend were, only that it was a potential danger that they didn’t need. they kept him ahead of them where they could keep an eye on him, for they still weren’t completely certain what he was up to, if anything more than trying to stay ahead of the three riders. They rounded the top of the gorge and when they were confident that he was out of reach they followed the path that would lead them off to the northwest in the direction of the Pacific Trail and inevitably the Maricopa desert. Now they had plenty of water until they would reach the Bethany, and with the morning sun at their backs, they decided to travel on throughout the entire day to get to the end of the Temblor before heading due west to Fishbin.
~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2014~
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