Slocum and the Thunderbird

Slocum and the Thunderbird by Jake Logan Page B

Book: Slocum and the Thunderbird by Jake Logan Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jake Logan
easily separated from gravel. The gold-mercury combination was then heated. The mercury fumes were captured and turned back into liquid metal while the gold was poured off into small ingots or left in pans to form pure dust. From the mercury odor and the roar of a fire blazing just out of sight inside a big building, he recognized a full-fledged mining operation.
    And guards with rifles patrolled endlessly to keep the men working. Mackenzie had himself a considerable slave labor workforce.
    Alicia had been right about this, at least. Slocum wondered which of those men might be her family members. Or if they toiled at the far more dangerous mercury extraction vats.
    He watched long enough to know Rawhide wasn’t among these men—these slaves. Slocum drifted through the buildings, hidden by heavy shadows. He found a bunkhouse filled with sleeping men and loud snores. Rawlins might be here. He started to lift the latch and enter when he heard the metallic click of a rifle being cocked behind him.
    â€œYou’re a dead man if you so much as twitch toward that gun of yours,” came the cold command. “Get those hands up and turn around.”
    Slocum did as he was told and saw he was in a worse predicament than he’d thought. Not one guard but three had caught him. He might throw down on one and hope to escape, but three? No way in hell was he going to shoot his way out of this.

8
    â€œPut those rifles down,” Slocum snapped. He began lowering his hands slowly, watching to see if the command had any effect. He had been a captain in the CSA and had learned how to make green recruits obey. It looked as if he had kept his skills ordering men around.
    The guards looked from him to the man who had told him to reach for the sky, as if asking what to do. Slocum kept up the bluff.
    â€œI was sent to find Rawlins. Mackenzie’s getting antsy because this Rawlins fellow was supposed to show up an hour ago back at the hotel and didn’t.”
    â€œHotel?” The guard with the rifle still aimed at him wavered at the mention.
    â€œYou know the place,” Slocum said with enough sarcasm to turn green leaves brown. “In town, at the end of the street. Two-story place with the hotel sign dangling in front of it. Headquarters?” Slocum took a shot at saying the hotel was Mackenzie’s HQ. From the men coming and going, he decided this wasn’t too big a risk.
    â€œâ€™Course I do,” the guard said uneasily. The muzzle dipped lower. If Slocum wanted, he could throw down and get at least two of the guards.
    There wasn’t any call for him to throw lead.
    â€œHe wants Rawlins right now. He’s going to be pissed if I don’t get this galoot back.” He let the outlaw reach his own conclusion that anyone standing in Slocum’s way was going to be in dutch with Mackenzie.
    â€œDon’t know this Rawlins. He one of the visitors?”
    Slocum would have been at a loss if the guard hadn’t moved unconsciously to touch his forehead. The men with numbers painted on their foreheads were called visitors. Slocum suspected they were called other things, but out of earshot. While Rawlins might have used the loot from the bank to buy his way into Wilson’s Creek, Slocum took a shot in the dark that he hadn’t.
    â€œNaw, one of them.” He pointed toward a line of men shuffling along with bowed heads, their legs shackled.
    â€œWhat’s he want with a slave?”
    Slocum didn’t hear what the guard farthest to his left whispered, but his partner snickered.
    â€œAin’t no call joshin’ ’bout that,” the man Slocum faced said uneasily. “The thunderbird gets fed enough.”
    â€œMaybe Rawlins has already been fed to the . . . thunderbird,” Slocum said, forcing himself to keep a neutral tone. The contempt he felt for anyone believing such hog wallow built inside him, but if he used it to find what he wanted

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