Deliver Us from Evil, Ch. 4 "The Evil That Men Do"

The racial and social appellations employed in this fictional story are meant to reflect the historical period in which the narrative takes place.  No bigotry or bias is intended by the author.

“Hellfire!  Ow!  You little red-headed bitch…” 

Kitty broke free from the burly arm that constrained her with a sharp, well-aimed kick of her boot heel and dashed toward her horse.  With a gasp, she promptly plowed into a broad, dark-skinned chest strung with beads and feathers and animal teeth.  Two white men grabbed each of her arms as she gazed up at the tall Indian before her.  He had cold eyes that bore into her, dark as night, and the lower half of his face was painted a sinister black. 

Kitty stifled a fearful cry, instead simply taking a deep breath.  But she quickly moved back, away from the native with the penetrating stare that seemed to look inside her.  She struggled against her captors, wide blue eyes the only thing that betrayed her fright.  “What do you want with me?” she managed between gritted teeth as she fought. 

One of the men who held her appeared to be a half-breed, even though he was dressed in white man’s clothing.  He was the unfortunate one who had grabbed her to begin with, obviously underestimating Kitty Russell’s pluck.  Viciously seizing her hair, he jerked her head backwards.  “Settle down, Red, or you’re gonna’ wish you had.”  This time she couldn’t hold back a small cry as the incensed man yanked even harder.

Kitty had no choice but to stop struggling so that he would loosen his painful grip on her.  “Alright!” she exclaimed breathlessly.  “Take it easy!”

“Aw, Titus, don’t hurt the little lady now.”  The larger white man, who wore a fringed deerskin jacket, smiled quietly even as his beefy hand securely held her arm.  “She’s valuable.”

Titus impatiently exclaimed, “Valuable?  Carter, where the hell’s the Marshal?  They was supposed to be travelin’ together!”

Carter spoke soothingly to his accomplice as if Kitty weren’t even there.  “Listen here, Titus Crow, you let me worry about that.  I say this here little lady is all we need to accomplish what we set out to.”

Titus Crow pushed Kitty aside and advanced threateningly on Carter.  “Dammit, I tole you this wouldn’t work.”

Free from their grasp, Kitty cautiously walked backwards in the direction of her horse, but the Indian was swifter.  He wrenched her arm behind her as she bit her lip in pain.  She was forced to watch as Titus Crow continued his tirade. 

“We planned it all out.  Found out from your so-called friend at the Western Union Station they was gonna be travelin’ these parts today, but lookee here what we got instead.”  He thrust his finger into Carter’s chest.  “A woman.  That’s all, Graves.  A woman.”

Carter Graves’ small piggish eyes gleamed in silent warning.  He spoke slowly and with deadly quiet, “Titus, I done had about all I can take from you, boy.  You need to listen and you need to listen good.  I just told you this woman was valuable to us.  We got Kotori here and he is all the ammunition we need against that marshal.  You hear me?”

Titus Crow spat, “What the hell are you talkin’ about?  That lousy Injun cain’t do nothin’!”

Carter interjected smoothly, “You’re one to talk, you senseless half-breed.  Just cause you was raised by whites don’t make you one.  And I seen what Kotori can do, Titus.  Don’t doubt me.”  Carter Graves emphatically jabbed his finger toward the Indian who held her captive.  “And don’t doubt him.  You just might live to regret it.”

Titus Crow narrowed his eyes at Graves and stepped even closer.  “You threatenin’ me?  Cause you been trying to take over this operation from the start.  I’m the one in charge, here.” 

Suddenly, Kitty saw a knife blade flash in Crow’s hand.  Graves jumped back and, with a single powerful blow to Titus’ forearm, knocked the deadly knife from his fist.  Crow quickly upped the ante and pulled a gun.  The half-breed chortled, “Try somethin’ now, will ya’, big man?  You think you’re in charge now?”

Kotori silently sprang into action, jerking Kitty helplessly along by the wrist.  He took a quick step toward Titus Crow and held up a fist.   The formidable Indian uncurled his fingers and blew black powder from his palm into the half-breed’s astonished face.  Titus made an odd choking sound, then fell to the ground writhing and wheezing.  Kitty gasped and wrenched her arm from Kotori’s grasp, scurrying backwards, her mind a whirl.  But Graves apprehended her again, his speed and agility belying his ungainly size, and held tight as they both watched Titus Crow in his death throes. 

Kitty couldn’t bear it.  She turned her head, her face a mask of horror, but Graves watched the entire spectacle, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist so that she could not escape again.  At last the half-breed lay still and a final breath exhaled slowly from his body.  Kitty trembled in revulsion at what she had just witnessed.

She turned frightened eyes to the Indian.  He was looking with quiet satisfaction at Carter Graves, who blew out a breath and said quietly with cold finality, “More money for us now, Kotori.”

Graves looked pointedly at Kitty and then began speaking to the Indian in his native language.  Kitty wasn’t sure what it even was.  The dialect didn’t sound familiar to her.   The two men conversed, obviously so that she wouldn’t understand what they were saying, for several moments.  Kitty’s blood ran cold, wondering what they could be planning.  Even though she didn’t know what they were saying, she could tell they were talking about her.

Suddenly, the Indian walked over to the bushes and began carefully looking around.  The white man held tight to her and smiled his cold smile.  She shivered and demanded again, “What do you want with me?  What do you want with the Marshal?”

“All in good time, pretty lady.  All in good time.”  Yellow teeth grinned at her again while the stench of his unwashed body made her nauseous. 

All too soon, the Indian emerged from the bushes, his fist closed around something.  Kitty tried to take a step back as he approached her, but Carter Groves held her firmly in his filthy grasp.  Kotori chanted in a low voice words foreign to her ears.  The native man’s black eyes were fixed on her own.  Her knees felt weak as he walked closer and closer, extending his closed fist before him.

She began desperately wriggling to escape Groves, but she was no match for the large man who laughed sinisterly, “Hold tight, little lady, and it’ll all be over with pretty soon.”

Kotori’s eyes rolled back in his head as he thrust his hand toward her, uncurling his fingers.  A large spider rested there.  Carter Groves grinned his nasty grin and reached for Kitty’s collar, ripping open her riding jacket and the bodice of her white silk shirtwaist.  Quick as a flash, Kotori placed the hand holding the spider on her exposed breastbone and shoved her violently.  She fell backward onto the ground, the breath knocked out of her. 

As she struggled to draw air into her empty lungs, the Indian bent ominously over her, a sharp knife gleaming in his hand.  Kitty opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.  But, to her surprise, Kotori grabbed a red curl dangling in her face that had escaped her long braid, slicing it jaggedly into his hand.  She felt weak with relief.  That was the last thing she remembered before she fainted.

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