#391
Mark moved his hand down in a 'reduce noise' movement, forgetting it was dark and not noticeable. "Quiet," he issued low, going to stand by the wagon. "Who ever is shooting unarmed people, wouldn't hesitate a moment, shooting all of you like sitting ducks."
The noise level in the wagon dropped to zero; the sentenced men sitting still, in the wagon that creaked when they moved, There was a slight cough from someone that was angerly hushed.
The sound of horses grew louder, the voices from the riders sounding closer and closer.
"Er you sure you know that guy?" a disembodied voice questioned. "They skittered so quick, er you sure you got a good look at'em? And it 'pears they took that dead guy with'em. Er they kinda 'teched?"
"I'm sure," a lower, smoother voice replied. "My Dad knowed'em, and he pointed them out to me, over the years. The hair sets'em apart from most peoples. The older guy so white headed and the other man, so read-headed. That's why they keep hats pulled low, most'ovs the times. Theys hard to miss."
"Er we gonna have to shoot at'en to get their attention?"
"NO! I imagines they know where we are, more than we knows where they is." the smooth voice continued. "They's got a load of prisoners and I imagines they are suspicious and careful. I'd like to meet up with'em, but during the daylight, soes we don't get shot."
"Oh, do you think they would shoot at us?" a scared sounding feminine voice said haltingly. "Are they nice people?"
"I alreadys said they is careful, and yes they would shoot at us if they thought we was bad'uns. You peoples has got to start listen'en to what I say. I ain't jest talkin to hear myself. Now I don't knows how they got shed of here so quick, but we's gotta keep movin on and hope to catch'em." the low, smooth voice faded off as they seemed to move out of range, the horse noise clopping in the sucking swamp mud.
"Great," Milo thought, "attackers behind us, and baggage in front.. Not much of a choice."
All four men were at the ready, rifles in hand and sidearms unlatched in the holsters. Faintly in the distance, they could hear gunshots. as resistance to the attacking
force was happening.
Mutterings from the group moving ahead of the clansmen, was carried back to them on the wind, but undistinguishable.
"I believe this might be a tight," Milo said drolly, "somebody refresh my memory why we are doing this."
"Because you really don't have a choice," Al reminded the Lindermans. 'i can't do this by myself. We've already lost four Marshall's to this assignment, and Phil here, makes five."
'You didn't tell us about that fact," Mark was perturbed, "what's the reason for so many death's and do you have information about the attacking force behind us? Is there someone in the wagon they are trying to liberate?"
Milo could hear the cold fury in his Dad's voice. Marshall Al was way in over his head in trouble, if he didn't 'fess up immediately.
"All of these men," Al said reluctantly, "they all belong to a violent, subversive cell of anarchists that have been trying to overthrow the government. We caught most of them in an ambush; but the ones behind us vowed to destroy everyone in their path to set their friends free. These are the masterminds, and they deserve to die for their treason and sedition. I have orders to kill them all if we are attacked,' Al spoke loud enough for the caged men to hear, causing low muttering from the guilty men.