Lords of an Empty Land Read Online Free Page A

impossible task of upholding law and order. In reality, it took the grandest effort just to manage the days, keep some impression of civility and structure in the major towns. Outside of Shreveport, little semblance of government or order prevailed.
    At Shreveport’s small university, Douglas turned down Fannin Street. He slowly rode past two brothels and arrived at the Red Devil, a two-story wood structure with a single glass window. As he tied his reins to a hitching post, he looked around again at the city. This cruel, uncouth, and deceitful land would be the last civilization they would see for a while.
    Douglas had spent the previous night chewing on Colonel James’s words, finally deciding Basil might be of use. The hired gun hand was an honest-to-God son of a bitch for sure. But he would use Basil as he saw fit. Douglas had learned that upholding the law was often objectionable work, often requiring one to act against his conscience. Certainly, he could channel Basil’s nefarious skills into the outcome the army wanted, what he wanted: a better life for these people who now reviled his very presence. He would try to do this in the most law-abiding manner possible.
    He opened the door to the Red Devil and strode inside. The little bar comprising the first floor stood empty, but the smells of sin almost overwhelmed him: liquor, cigars, and cheap perfume. Douglas slammed the door shut loudly, which brought a young, fair-skinned woman from the back to the bar. The prostitute sported a long, proper dress, but Douglas could not help but imagine what she had worn just a few hours earlier.
    â€œI’m here to fetch Basil,” Douglas said.
    â€œSecond floor, first door on the right,” the girl said with a deep Southern accent.
    â€œCan you go get him?”
    â€œBasil? I’m not going to get him. You go get him if you want. He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
    Douglas ascended the stairs. Arriving at the door in question, he rapped on it firmly with his fist, twice.
    â€œWhat do you want?” Basil yelled back, his words filtering through the door.
    â€œCaptain Owens here. Time to get moving. We’ll be lucky to make Ringold if we leave now.” Douglas slowly opened the door. Basil sat naked on the bed, his back against the headboard and his revolver in his hand. Beside him and under each arm lay two women, both without clothes.
    Basil put his pistol back in its holster, hanging on the bedpost. “That’s it, girls. Got to go to work.” He playfully pinched both women on the bosom, and they giggled before he slowly stood and picked his pants off the floor.
    One of the girls stood. She laughed and grabbed Basil’s wrist, jerking him back to the bed. “One more time, we haven’t earned all our keep yet.”
    Basil slapped the girl, sending her to the bed. The loud pop of bone reverberated through the room. Douglas cringed as if he had taken the blow himself. The speed and brutality of the strike scared him. He looked at the woman, now on the bed crying, her face beet red.
    â€œNo, bitch. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.” Basil, wearing a stern face, reached over and grabbed a small portion of the stack of money on the nightstand. He picked up the remnants of a bottle of whiskey and finished it. “You can have this then.”

4
    The bright orange sun blazed overhead the next afternoon when Douglas first saw the frontier village of Montgomery, a small river stop a hundred and twenty river miles south of Shreveport. From the deck of the steamer, the town spread out a mile or so to the east, where the plain collided with the hills. The town looked down on the rich Red River delta, the great river, and the fertile auburn soil and ivory cotton fields.
    Douglas’s feet hurt. It had been a long day on the steamer. The vessel’s three decks overflowed with men and cargo, crowding onto almost every square foot of space. He had tried to