Frank was a man on high alert. Even with Henry's stealthy approach, he sensed something was wrong when Henry was still ten meters away.
"Who's there?" he called out.
But it was too late. The moment he spoke, their fate was sealed.
Henry activated his Super Reflexes and became a whirlwind of death, a phantom of vengeance. In a single second, two throwing knives sprouted from the neck of every outlaw in the cave, Frank included. The gang leader's only act of defiance was to get his hand on the grip of his pistol before a third knife pinned his wrist to his side. His crossed eyes, wide with disbelief and rage, stared up at the sky as the life faded from them.
After annihilating the first ambush point, Henry looted their weapons and wallets, then left the bodies where they lay. If they had chosen this place as their hunting ground, then it was only fitting they be buried here.
And if we're having a sky burial, he thought, we might as well have a feast. He deposited the forty bodies of the McKinley cavalrymen he had stored among the dead outlaws. If anyone ever investigated, they might conclude the two groups had wiped each other out. It was a long shot, but it cost him nothing.
Besides, after Richard Mellon and his party returned to Denver, the story of his exploits would spread. Everyone would know it was he who had cleared the gulch of outlaws. As for why the McKinley's men were also there… who could say?
He planned to scatter all 260 of the McKinley bodies he had collected throughout the mountains, which would also free up a considerable amount of storage space.
It took him twenty minutes to clear each ambush point. After another hour, he had eliminated the three other groups on that side of the mountain. It was now 4:12 PM. He crossed the valley and began to hunt the men on the other side.
Meanwhile, back at the temporary camp, Linda, Pete, Charles, and Owen were on the verge of panic. Henry had been gone for hours.
And at the outlaws' horse camp, Richard, Madeline, and Edith were in a state of pure, abject terror. They could hear the sounds of wild animals fighting over the bodies of the dead outlaws just outside the cave. They prayed the beasts wouldn't be drawn to the scent of the living.
At least we have the two captives, they thought, a cold and selfish comfort. The beasts will take them first.
The two outlaws, Bick and his friend, were nearly catatonic with fear. They struggled against their bonds, trying to inch their way deeper into the cave, away from the entrance. Richard finally had to threaten them with his rifle to make them stay put, forming a human shield between his family and the horrors outside.
They were all starving, but the fear had killed their appetites. To make matters worse, they had no choice but to relieve themselves in the bushes near the mouth of the cave.
And through it all, there was a deafening silence. No gunfire. They had no idea if Henry was alive or dead.
Their worst fears were soon realized. A massive cougar, drawn by the fresh scent, appeared at the mouth of the cave. It tested the air, its eyes fixing on the two wounded, bleeding captives. It stalked forward, then lunged, its fangs sinking into the throat of Bick's friend.
Richard raised his rifle, his knuckles white, but he didn't fire. He was afraid the sound of the shot would draw more predators, or worse, the other outlaws. A cougar was a solitary hunter. If this one ate its fill, it might leave them alone.
The young outlaw, his throat torn open, his mouth still gagged, died in silent, writhing agony.
Bick was paralyzed with fear. If he had been standing a few centimeters closer to the entrance, he would have been the one in the cougar's jaws.
BANG!
A single shot rang out. The cougar's head exploded, and it collapsed in a heap.
Richard spun around, leveling his rifle at the entrance.
"It's me," a calm voice called from the darkness. "I'm back."
Richard, Madeline, and Edith stood, their faces a mixture of shock and overwhelming relief. A moment later, Henry's tall frame appeared at the mouth of the cave.
Richard's legs gave out, and Madeline had to catch him to keep him from falling.
Edith, however, ran. She flew across the uneven ground, her dress tearing on a sharp rock, and threw herself into Henry's arms, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Henry was taken aback by the sudden embrace. He had just finished clearing out the last of the outlaws and had found the cougar attacking the camp. After shooting it, he had retrieved some water and beef jerky from his space. He had not expected to be ambushed by a noblewoman.
He understood her terror. This day had been a trial by fire for a girl of her sheltered upbringing. He gently patted her on the back, comforting her.
After a moment, she pulled away, her face flushing a deep crimson.
Henry just smiled and handed her a waterskin. "It's clean," he said. "Fresh spring water. Drink."
She took it gratefully and drank deeply.