"Looking for this? " Nala dropped down from her perch, landing light as a cat despite the height. She held the digitalis bottle. She measured drops into her palm, held them to Jesse's lips. "Drink. " He drank. The medicine hit his system, bitter and sharp.
His heart steadied slightly, not much, but enough to keep him conscious. "You need to stop the bleeding," Nala said. She drew her knife and cut away Jesse's shirt, exposing the shoulder wound. It was bad. Blood pulsed with each heartbeat.
She packed it with cloth torn from her own clothes, pressing hard. Jesse grunted with pain but didn't cry out. "Can you still shoot? " Nala asked. "Not with my left arm, but I'm right-handed anyway. " "Good, because they are coming again. " Crane and his remaining four men had regrouped. They weren't charging blindly anymore.
They'd learned respect. Now they advanced slowly, using cover, laying down suppressing fire. Jesse picked up his Colt with his right hand. Six shots left. He made them count.
Shot one, shot two. Both hit. One in the leg, one in the shoulder. Not kill shots, but enough to take those men out of the fight. Two men left besides Crane.
Nala fired her last arrow. It took one of the remaining riders in the thigh. He went down hard. One man left. That man turned and ran.
Crane shot him in the back for desertion. The man fell and didn't move. Then it was just Crane. The man dismounted slowly, deliberately. Drew a Bowie knife from his belt.
He'd run out of ammunition for his guns or close to it. Now he was down to steel and determination. "Come on then! " Crane roared. "Is this the best you've got? A dying cowboy and some squaws?
I'll kill you all with my bare hands if I have to. " Jesse tried to stand. His legs wouldn't support him. He'd lost too much blood. His vision was tunneling, darkness creeping in from the edges. Nala stood instead.
She drew her own knife, the long hunting knife she carried at her belt. 12 inches of sharpened steel. "Nala, no," Jesse said. "Let me. I can still shoot. " "You can barely breathe," Nala said.
Her voice was calm. "This fight is mine now. " She walked toward Crane. The sun was setting, painting the canyon walls red and gold. Two figures met in the center of that dying light. One tall and broad, weathered by violence and time.
The other, smaller but no less dangerous, carved from rage and grief and iron will. Crane struck first. He was fast for a man his size, his knife a blur. Nala twisted aside, let the blade pass within inches of her stomach. She countered with a slash at his arm, drew blood but not deeply.
They circled each other. Crane fainted high, struck low. Nala blocked, reposted, was blocked in turn. It was brutal, efficient, no wasted motion. Two people who'd killed before and would do it again.
Crane kicked dirt in Nala's face. She flinched and he lunged. His knife scored her ribs, a shallow cut but painful. She gasped and fell back. Crane pressed his advantage.
He was stronger, had longer reach. He drove her back step by step toward the canyon wall. She blocked and dodged, but she was tiring. Her shoulder wound had reopened. Her movements were a fraction slower.
Crane saw it. He grinned, predator sensing wounded prey. "You should have stayed hidden, girl. Should have let your father's land go. Now you'll die just like he did. " He thrust for her heart.
Nala caught his wrist, twisted, used his momentum against him. Crane was bigger, but she was faster. She pivoted, drove her knee into his gut, and as he doubled over, she brought her knife down between his shoulder blades. The blade sank deep. Crane roared.
He spun, trying to throw her off, but Nala held on, drove the knife deeper, twisted. Crane fell to his knees. Blood spread across his back, dark and fatal. He looked up at Nala. "You think you've won?
There are dozens like me, hundreds. You can't stop them all. " "I don't need to stop them all," Nala said quietly. "I just needed to stop you. " Crane tried to speak again, but blood filled his throat. He choked, gasped, and fell forward into the dust. Silas Crane died as the sun touched the western horizon.
His body lay in the red dirt of Echo Valley, unmourned, unremembered, except as a monster who'd finally met his end. Nala stood over him for a long moment. Then she turned and walked back to Jesse. The aftermath was quiet. Keona and Yazzie emerged from their hiding places.
Swift Bird helped Jesse to a more comfortable position against a boulder. Nala cleaned and dressed everyone's wounds with the medical supplies they'd salvaged. Jesse's shoulder was bad. The bullet had gone through, which was good, but the blood loss was severe. Combined with his failing heart, he was in serious trouble.
He could feel his body shutting down piece by piece. The digitalis was barely keeping his heart beating. "How long do I have? " he asked Nala as she bandaged him. "Hours, maybe a day if you rest. " "Not long enough. " "For what? " "To finish this. Your other sisters, Winona and Ayanna in Mexico, Chinoah in Tucson.
They're still out there. " Nala's hands paused in their work. "Jesse, you have done enough, more than enough. You've freed three of my sisters. You've killed the man who murdered my father. You've balanced your debt. " "The debt isn't balanced until all six of you are safe. " "You'll die trying. " "Then I'll die trying. " They stared at each other.
Finally Nala spoke. "You are the most stubborn man I have ever met. " "I've been told that before. " "By your wife? " "By everyone who ever knew me. " Nala almost smiled. Then her face grew serious. "There is someone who can help if we can find her. " "Who? " "My aunt, Diving Hawk, Swift Bird's mother. She knows this territory better than anyone.