The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

99: Tell No Tales

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Storm by Laura Hollingsworth. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

Storm's head jerked up as the acrid scent of smoke and gunpowder hit him, a panicked gasp of horror rising in his throat. He exchanged a wide-eyed look with Jesse, and nudged his horse forward at a faster gait. "Scarcliff..." he gasped, racing past the startled Captain. "Smoke...trouble ahead."

He could hear guns being drawn behind him, as their motley, cobbled-together company picked up their pace to follow him. Something was burning, leather and hair and fabric. It was the smell of fighting and death. Frantic tendrils of fear were squeezing his heart, strangling his ability to stay calm and think clearly. Fiona...please...

The bleak landscape tumbled past him in a blur, browns and dull greens and iron reds. Since they'd left Bridger, Storm had been terrified that they wouldn't find Fiona. Now he was terrified that they would.

The tiny camp had been tossed, what was left of the white canvas tent crumpled in the damp grass and smoldering. Surveying equipment lay scattered on the ground, the remains of a broken tripod teetering in the breeze like the leg of an animal carcass bloating in the sun.

Scarcliff rode up alongside him, looking around and holding his pistol at the ready. "Surveyors."

Storm deflated, listening to his heart pounding in his ears and trying to calm down. "Obviously, they were attacked." He slid from the saddle, looking around. He saw a man's bare feet sticking ominously out from beneath the wadded, smoking tent and he hooked the toe of his boot into the canvas, tossing it back. The bloodstained body of a young man with a dark brown beard stared at him with sightless, dead eyes. "Why attack surveyors?"

"This one here needed killin'." Jesse dismounted beside him, his lip curling in disgust.

"What?" Storm turned to look at him, startled.

"I've met this sumbitch," Jesse murmured, his eyes flicking over to look at Still Water Woman, who had ridden up beside them. "He'd a' put his hands on her if it wasn't for..." He looked around. "There were three of them when we ran into them."

Eagle Bone waved a hand from the edge of the encampment, calling out in Lakota. Storm nodded. "That's two dead."

"Keep your guard up," Scarcliff was scanning the landscape around them. "We're not far behind them."

The tall grass rustled on the edge of the encampment, and they all turned, startled, at the sound of a weak, hoarse voice. "Help..."

A grizzled visage with a whiskey-brown beard appeared in the brush. Blood streaked down his dust-crusted face, and he struggled to drag himself through the grass on his elbows before collapsing.

"If it wasn't for him..." Jesse mumbled, starting forward. Storm followed, startled.

The man rolled onto his side, letting out of deep, relieved breath. "Oh, thank God. Thank God you came along." He let Jesse help him sit up, his eyes widening in recognition. "You again, eh?"

Collins was dismounting, pulling a water skin from his saddle and handing it to the man. "Who was it? What happened?"

"Much thanks, Lieutenant." He took a long, thirsty gulp, rivulets of water running through his dusty beard. "Name's Griffin. Those two dead are Bill Spires and Tolly Harper. We're surveyors for Union Pacific." He rubbed the side of his head and winced. " I don't know who it was attacked us. Some of 'em were Indian, some of them were white. Robbed us blind. I could hear them going through our supplies while I pretended to be dead. Please tell me they didn't take the damn maps."

"Did they have a woman with them?" Storm blurted.

Griffin nodded, drawing a sleeve across his face, smearing the red clots across his brow. "Yeah. A redhead wearing an army coat. Had her hands tied." He handed the canteen back to Collins and leaned heavily on Jesse's arms. "Help me up, son."

Thanks for reading! If you are enjoying this story, please let me know by giving me a star or a comment! I appreciate your support!