The Mission War Read Online Free Page A

from the empty salt flats they now crossed. The horses’ hooves crunched the dry ground. Nothing moved on the desert; nothing made a sound but the drifting wind that pushed light sand before it and whispered eerily past the bandits and their hostages.
    Ki shifted in his saddle. His arms ached. His hands were still strapped to the saddlehorn of the bay horse he rode and it was impossible to get comfortable. Sweat trickled down his spine and it dripped into his eyes, stinging them.
    The bandits were even more uncomfortable. Ki smiled as he watched them. They bent over their horses’ necks, grumbling and cursing. The tequila still rode with them and it was making things miserable for Mono and his men.
    Ki turned a little to watch Jessica. She held herself erect in the saddle, the wind drifting her hair. She might have been out for a Sunday ride but for the grim set of her mouth.
    â€œDamn this desert, damn this heat,” one of the Mexicans said.
    Mono said, “Shut up, Arturo.”
    â€œWhy don’t we follow the river?” the bandit asked.
    â€œBecause I say not.”
    Arturo looked away, clamping his jaw shut. Mono was in no mood to explain his decisions. A second bandit, very dark with long black hair, said, “Yaquis, Arturo. They’ve been drifting north. They’ll follow the river.”
    â€œWhat do we care about a handful of dirty Indians?” Arturo asked.
    â€œYou don’t know the Yaquis, do you?” The look in this one’s eyes indicated that he did know them. The man looked to be Indian himself, though what tribe Ki couldn’t have guessed.
    â€œThe horses won’t last long without water,” Arturo said.
    â€œWe’ll find water,” Mono growled. “Tinaja Caliente, eh, Halcón?”
    The Indian nodded. “There will be water at Tinaja Caliente.”
    The bandits fell silent. Ki watched them for a time longer and then again let his eyes lift to the distances. The desert seemed to go on forever. Now and then they passed red-tipped, thorny ocotillo waving in the light breeze; now and then a jack rabbit, set to running by the approaching horses, loped off across the flats. Otherwise, the world seemed dead and empty.
    Ki didn’t know this country well. He had never heard of Tinaja Caliente. Tinajas, he knew, were natural catch basins in stone where water from the infrequent rains was held. Caliente meant hot in Spanish. Was there anything that wouldn’t be hot in this country?
    They had begun to angle westward toward the chalky hills. These seemed to be the bandidos’ goal. Ki could only ride on with them, biding his time. Yet how long could he wait before he made some attempt at escape? Something had to happen—and soon. Someone had to make a mistake, offer Ki and Jessica a chance to get away. But nothing presented itself. The bandits were alert and watchful.
    They rode toward the hills that loomed ahead across the desert flats.
    By sundown they were all exhausted. The perspiration no longer stained Ki’s shirt, no longer dripped from his body. The devil wind whipped it away before it had barely formed. Ki’s body, deprived of water, seemed unable to muster the ability to replace it. The bay he rode walked with his head hanging. The bandits were in a foul mood.
    They found the mouth of a narrow, white canyon and started to climb. Ki’s horse balked and Carlos slashed it across the rump to keep it moving up the rocky slope.
    â€œJesus Christ,” Arturo said, “I’m going to die.”
    â€œShut up,” Mono snapped.
    â€œSoon you’ll be up to your eyes in water,” Diego Cardero said, “cool water.”
    â€œChrist,” was all Arturo could pant in response. The horses achieved a narrow bench and followed a second narrower trail to the crest of a low, barren ridge. The wind raced across the ridge, but instead of cooling them, it simply added to their torment.
    â€œWhich way,