[The link at the end of this story is for "Trip Through Your Wires" by U2. I always said that if I ever made a Western, I'd use this song on the soundtrack during the opening credits.]
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The blistering sun
cooked the man even as he rode. His reddened hands gripped the horn
of his saddle, his grizzled chin drooped against his calico shift.
The hooves of his paint clicked on the baked red clay, the hypnotic
cadence broken only by the screech of a buzzard.
He was deep in an
arroyo, petrified mud hills rising hundreds of feet on either side.
He lifted his head, dark blue eyes surveying the horizon from under
the brim of his hat. They had come out of the wash, the jagged hills
tapering down to the plain, and an endless sea of sand opened before
him. The cayuse had stopped to listlessly munch at some brittle-bush,
and the man allowed one small swallow of hot water from his canteen
to pass his parched lips. Only a few mouthfuls more to last for god
knows how many evil miles. He untied his kerchief and slapped it
against his chaps. He mopped his brow with the red bandanna and
retied it around his sunburned neck.
He put his spurs to the
sides of his horse and the thirsting animal plodded out onto the
sand. They passed giant ocotillo cactuses whipping like neon-green
octopi in the hot breath of the desert. They passed towering saguaros
hundreds of years old, and agave plants that the Mexicans made
tequila from. A pair of hooded orioles wheeled above their adobe nest
set amongst the branches of a jumping cholla.
They were about ten
miles out from the hills when the feared deathrattle of the desert
sat the man bolt upright, his hand pulling the Colt Frontier
double-action .45 from its holster by instinct. He pointed and fired,
but not before the diamondback struck from behind a prickly pear
where it had been shading, hollow fangs tearing the shin of the
bewildered, fatigued mustang.
The man jerked his feet
from the stirrups and leapt clear of the stricken animal as it
collapsed to the ground. He stood and fired, hitting the rattler
square in the head. He looked down at his glassy-eyed companion, cursed, and
fired again, out of duty.
The man looked at the
vista of disintegrated rock, figuring it to be thirty miles more to
town. He stared at the dead horse, and suddenly yanked the tooled
leather belt from his Levis. He raised the strap over his head and
brought it down with a sharp crack against the carcass. He beat the
lifeless creature several more times, until it occurred to him that
there was no sense to this.
The man gathered what
essential gear he could carry; his saddlebags, canteen, and Spenser
carbine. He had covered maybe fifteen miles, traveling as best he
could by night, when the water ran out. The moon was new and the way
was treacherous. It was morning again and the only thing the man knew
for sure was that the sun and the sand could outlast him. If he
waited again for night, he could rest from the heat, but that meant
fourteen hours without being one inch closer to water. He went on for
a couple of miles, but when the pitiless sun reached its zenith, he
had to stop and take what shelter he could in the lee of a tall
Joshua tree.
He went on again that
night but when dawn broke he could no longer spit the alkali
from his mouth that choked his throat. When a posse came across him,
he was feverish and kept muttering about beating a dead horse. The
men of the posse tended him, and by dusk the man was recovered enough
to tell his tale. They all reckoned the moral to be true, that there was no sense in beating a dead horse, but thought
the man's ordeal a high price to pay for the knowledge. The posse
rode with the man to town, and all agreed a drink was in order.
The man flung open the
slatted doors of the saloon, and there on a bear skin rug, two large
bull-mastiffs lay sleeping in front of the fireplace. Ignoring the ancient wisdom that it is best to let sleeping dogs lie, he stormed towards the animals, and said, “I'm gonna wake them
sons-a-bitches right up!”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKesAnqdq8w
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKesAnqdq8w
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