Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2002 22:37:19 EST From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com Subject: Outcast of Lonely Rock, Chapter 6 THE OUTCAST OF LONELY ROCK, CHAPTER SIX "Upon Our Running from the Law" By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM Riding away from Lonely Rock with Hunter, an accessory to a jailbreak, I felt a thrill in my spirit I hadn't felt since the first time I had read a dime-store novel of the West. I was now an outlaw, a rider on the plains, running from the law and without a home to call my own other than the saddle beneath me. I looked over at Hunter and tried to match his look of simple concentration, though I couldn't help but look nervously behind us time and again for the sounds and sights of pursuit. There were none, Lonely Rock was placid and undisturbed until it vanished at last behind us, more from distance than the lay of the land. Once out of sight of Lonely Rock we began a long, slow circuit to head toward the hills just to the north of Lonely Rock. It occurred to me that these hills, the only possible place we could hide, were an obvious destination both for us and the posse I didn't doubt but was now on our trail, heading that way and planning to cut us off. When I mentioned this to Hunter, I got a denial. "You forget that except for a few storekeepers, most of the people in Lonely Rock are out on their ranches. It takes time to put a posse together in such a small town. More likely, they'll just send out riders to all the ranches to warn about us, put together a reward and send out wanted posters with my description and maybe yours, and send them out to the various towns hereabouts. Soon the law in all the county and then all the state will be keeping an eye out for us." "So what do we do about it?" I asked him. "Keep moving, try to stay ahead of the news, head for the border and escape into Mexico." he said. "At least, that's what I need to do. You could probably turn around and head right back into town." "I could?" I couldn't believe this. "But...but I helped you escape!" "Depends on whether or not the sheriff brings you into it." he said. "As you know, he didn't exactly make it tough for me to get out of that cell. I wouldn't be surprised if he left you out of it entirely." Boy, I was beginning to wonder if the novels were true about anything! I could help someone break out of jail, and then just walk back into town like nothing had happened? Impossible! I said as much to Hunter. He smiled at me. "Would you be happier if there were a dozen armed men on our trail and bullets flying around our heads instead of these blasted sand flies?" "No." I agreed. "We'll stop up ahead and rest the horses." Hunter said. "There's a little depression in the sand I've used before to keep hidden; it was Indians back then. It'll keep us out of sight unless they ride right up on us." "Make camp?" I was confused. "Nope, just stop long enough to rest the horses." he affirmed. "Can't ride them too hard in this heat." "But...but they'll follow our tracks and find us!" I said. Hunter shook his head. "Take a look about." he gestured. "At the ground behind us." I did. Hoof prints, lots of them, cattle and horses, and ours were identifiable only because they were fresh-made and led right up to our horses. "What happened here?" "This is cattle country. A cattle drive came through here two days ago, and I turned us along to follow it. Remember when I made that turn?" I did though I hadn't spotted the reasons for our turns; I'd thought.... "Weren't we heading for the hills?" Again he shook his head. "First place they'd look for us. Nope, we're heading for Castle Mine Number Three, out that-a-way." "But...." I shut up. Hunter knew how to survive here better than I did. "All right, so we stop a while and rest the horses." I agreed. "That's one of the reasons." Hunter said, as he stomped his horse's reins into the ground. "And what's the other reason?" I asked as he left his horse, tethered by its own imagination, standing still in place. "Twice now, once last night and t'other earlier today, I've had to watch while other men had the pleasure of your body. Long as we're here for a half-hour or so, I intend to show you a proper gratitude for helping me escape the hangman's rope." And his big arms swooped down to encircle me. The day was hot, sweaty and itchy, and the sand-flies were a buzzing hazard that threatened to bite at any time. I didn't care right then, I hugged Hunter all dusty and sweat-covered as he was and his lips were a salty ambrosia to my own as they pressed against me like a water-skin to my thirsty mouth. I felt a bead of his sweat drip from his nose to fall on my cheek, a sizzling splash and the dust of the trail rose from his arms as our clothes were brushed against each other. "Take it off." I murmured as I fumbled my hands against his shirt-covered chest. "Please, take it off and let me touch your body." His only answer was a smile, and I trembled as I reached up for his broad chest, finding the small ovals of polished bone buttons, and slipping them out of the traps that held them by their necks, and they slid free to rejoice in their new freedom by tugging to get away from Hunter's strong brown chest as quickly as I freed them. More sweat and caked-on dust was there on his neck and hollow of his chest, but I didn't care, his large nipples were free and clean for sucking on and my lips dove to them like an infant's to its mother and I wrapped my mouth around that massive brown nub of flesh and rolled that little button of flesh upon my tongue. "Uh, hnk!" Hunter grunted in pleasure as I swirled my tongue around his nipple, and his hands were nearly tearing at my clothes. I got the last of his buttons undone, tugged the shirt out and undid the final two buttons that had hidden there inside his pants, and finally, finally, I could reach up and brush that cloth away from his shoulders, and my hands rode over the mounded crests of his shoulders and his shirt fell away to the ground. Revealed, his body was a dusky brown color, darker than mine but only by a few shades, the color of a body tanned by the times of cleansing at a pool of water in the open sun, the same sun which even now beat upon his body and turned it hot and dry to my touch. His thick fingers reached for my shirt, and I let them wisk away my leather vest, reach and pull the buttons loose by brute force rather than finesse, peeling it from its skin-tight grasp upon my body, glued by sweat, and my paler body shone in the same sunlight and I felt the sun triumphantly slash at me with its many razor-sharp rays, but I didn't care, for also upon my body was the thick, calloused palms of Hunter, that moved upon me with hunger and desire. "Ah, damn, kid." Hunter groaned as I lifted away his gunbelt and dropped it carefully on top of his discarded shirt and then back for the second belt at his pants, seeing how it was tented up with his need, the belt jumped away from its fastening when I pulled it loose, the belt slithering out of the buckle like a scared snake, and then it was only a matter of the buttons at his fly to set free, these were of metal and clung like misers to their dark purchase, but his cock within would not be denied me, I fumbled them out one at a time, and then the cockhead was a brown head peering at its new glimpse of the sky, its one eye twinkling at me, and then weeping its happiness as I pulled at the cloth binding the cock-shaft to his body, and soon enough his cock could reach out for me, and it did. With a massive tug, his hands skinned my pants from my hips with the belt still fastened, and they pooled at my legs, hobbling me. I started to kneel and damned near fell instead, and had to clutch at Hunter's hips, and his pants slid down his large, hairy thighs as I lowered down to my knees, and when I was done, his proud organ was aimed at me, now drooling at me lasciviously, begging for the chance to plunder my tender body. "Come on, kid, give it the same treatment you did the sheriff back at the jail." Hunter panted. "I want to groan the way he did, if you can make me do it." I took that thick prong between my lips and I let it crawl into me, giving it little flicks of my tongue as it entered, moistening it as it moved into me deeper and deeper, and the long dong touched the back of my throat and as it buckled the slightest amount in the center, I heard a creaking sound and only as it ended did I realize that it came from Hunter's throat. Smiling around his enormous pud, I gripped it tight and pulled on it as I raised back my head, stopping only when I felt his foreskin as a massive lump around his cockhead, and then I slid it back down into my mouth, letting it lie upon the back of my tongue and dig at the small cavity at the back of my throat, trying to clamber down into that narrow tunnel beyond, and I let the cockhead plunge as deep as it could, and it quested about for more room before it surrendered the false hope and contented itself with a trip back onto my tongue. "Oh, God, kid, you're so damned good!" Hunter huffed and as he leaned over me, sweat dripped onto me in several massive dew-clear strands of man-flavored water. "You're too big." I complained as I released his prick. "I can't get you into my mouth like I did the sheriff. You're bigger than he is." Hunter chuckled. "Never thought I'd hear that in a complaint." He said. "Well, no matter, let me lay out my blanket and I'll plug your other end. I know it'll fit in there, it did that first time." "Yeah." I said carefully. I'd been able to take Hunter mostly because I'd been ripped wide by those two brutal bandits; his kind schlong had been a welcome salve to my torn anus. Would I still be able to take him? I lay back on the blanket Hunter stretched out and he grabbed my pants by their legs and shucked them off from me, leaving my boots on. He seemed to get a thrill out of doing that to me, most pants' legs were too narrow to let their owners do that, but my own pants, sewn back in the East to the new style, were roomier and they slipped off easily even over my boots. But now Hunter was pressing my legs up and around his body while he clutched the back of my knee in the pit of his elbow; I was lifted up onto my shoulder-blades and then that thick prong was finding my ass and pressing against it. "Ah!" I sighed as it knocked for entrance like an old friend. "Ah, yes!" and my body relaxed and the cockhead tripped over the threshold happily, followed by the long shaft and I felt it enter me like a ship enters its dock, a long fat shape that fit exactly into its receptacle and I smiled in relief; I could still take Hunter's cock without any trouble! The sun was a brutal huge sand-fly that suckled at our bodies' moisture as we lay there in its sight, joined together in our passion, and the sweat that had been a nuisance now was evaporating as quickly as our bodies produced it, and we were dry again, only the slick sweat that stayed where our bodies touched remained to lubricate the motions of our two hunching, thrusting forms. I looked up into Hunter's face, and that face was all my visual universe, my body's feelings were entirely focused upon his body as it touched my own, the hand on my back and the one on my leg, the thick thighs sandwiched between my own, the taut buttocks that danced under the heels of my boots as he lifted and punched back into me, and each hunch of his buttocks into me was a separate slamming arrival of pleasure, each withdrawal of that huge dick was a minor counterpoint to this hard thrust into me, and I felt like he was driving home a claim-stake, putting it into me so deep that it would never been pulled out by anyone else, he was laying a claim to me that nobody could snatch away ever again. "Oh, God, Hunter!" I groaned in the flurry of lust that rose up at that thought, at this concept of belonging to this big, dark man, my body crackled with my passion, and I felt washing over me the familiar tingling, creeping, mind-paralyzing, soul-opening trumpet-blast that was climax rising within me. "Oh, God, Hunter, I'm going to come, I'm going to come!" I groaned out. "Yeah, shoot it, kid!" Hunter urged me while he continued to plunge into my ass, and I groaned, spasmed in his embrace, and my cock exploded upwards against him, back-splashed onto me, and Hunter gave a tiny chuckle at my pleasure, but his own thrusts remained at their regular tempo and as I sank into lassitude, his own needs were still unfulfilled. I was exhausted, numb, a limp sack of man that Hunter fucked now, unresisting and complaisant in his arms, he fucked me as he would, and his cock mauled my emptied prostate, tasting its left-over thrills as it was brushed by his cock, and Hunter fucked me on and on. Somehow, within the empty bag of my body, a new sea arose from the ashes of the old, a new sense of joy filled me, slowly but confidently, and my body reawakened and I began to relish once more the massive pud that worked its way with me, in and out and I threw my head back and moaned with a renewed passion. Hunter now was deep within his own needs, and his face was flushed as he gazed into my glassy-eyed gaze. "Getting into it again, huh, kid?" He asked me. "Yeah." I moaned. "Oh, yeah!" I used my legs to help him fuck me and his face turned a deeper hue. "Yeah, kid, God, you're so fucking hot!" He groaned. "I can't do it, kid, I got to shoot now." "Yeah, come on!" I urged him. "Shoot it into me, all of it! Come on, it's mine now, give it to me, give it to me!" With a long, choked groan, Hunter warbled his pleasure out and at its end, he gave a frenzied convulsive thrust to his hips, and his cock suddenly blossomed with salty flowers of jizz that burst out into me and dropped off, to be replaced my more blooms that brushed my bowels with their petals and brought my lust-emptied body into full life once again. I gave a strangled cry, and my cock, malnourished and weak, still valiantly burst forth a pitifully small packet of seed that dribbled out of it, almost ashamed of itself, and my orgasm was of a kind with that, smaller and more timid in its way, it did not possess me utterly but still it joined with Hunter's own frenetic yells and daintily added its grace to his own animal dance of lust, a partner to him that I was proud to offer, and I reached for his panting, sweat-dripping face and I kissed him when he was done, and he sagged onto me, himself spent and slack, but for myself, I felt a renewal of energy and a joy for life, which was too precious to waste. I stayed with Hunter while he panted and gasped for air until he refilled his emptied lungs, and then I began to kiss my way across his huge chest barrel, tasting his body now while I still could, sucking in the salty essence of this wide, broad, strong body, wishing I could do this for an eternity. But then Hunter broke the time, he chuckled and rustled my hair with his hand, and said, "That was damned good, kid." He said. "But we'd better get back on those horses and ride some more, or even the few men that do come looking for us are going to catch up to us." That sobered me and I got up and we dressed while I peered about. "Something's over there." I said at last, a flickering square of black and a faint rumble in the distance. But Hunter had spotted and identified it the same time that I did. "Hold your horse and yourself still." He cautioned abruptly. "But what is it?" I asked. Then I could tell by the sound; a wagon traveling across the dusty plains, a dark shape in the distance that danced due to the heat rising off the ground. "Should we talk to them?" I asked instead of waiting for an answer. Hunter shook his head. "Prospectors don't use wagons much. Pack-mules are better. That wagon's either a rancher or headed to a working mine. And the only working mines about here belong to King Carson. Thing is, there's not any of Carson's mines in that direction that I know of." So we kept quiet and let the wagon get far ahead of us, then followed it at just-can-see distance at Hunter's suggestion. I didn't understand why we'd hide from a wagon and then go where it was going, but didn't feel inclined to argue, either. Hunter knew how to survive out here, and so I had to depend upon his wisdom. "Keep an eye out for lone prospectors and claims." he said, pointing ahead of us. "Up in the hills. The sheriff will go around and talk to all of them; but they mostly won't offer to help track us down. Prospectors learn to mind their own business, living alone in the hills the way they do. Most of them don't like King Carson, either. He's been staking out and taking over claims all through these hills." "I guess they wouldn't." I agreed. I felt better; we could count on some help in our flight. "But they might want to turn us in for the reward." Hunter finished and my thoughts of aid vanished. Running from the law can be damned lonely! So we made it all the way up to the mine. I saw it, a wooden-framed cave and a small handful of men working, with tents and a small wooden hut nearby. Not knowing even why we were here, I followed Hunter's lead, staking my horse behind some bushes quite a ways off from the mine and also hidden from the road, then we worked our way up to quite close to the mine. I saw that the wagon we had seen earlier had been delivering supplies to the miners, and now they were loading it with boxes (I didn't know what the boxes were, mined ore, I guess). Still following Hunter, I went with him down to where we were near the tents. I now saw that the miners were running the stream's water in and through a trough and back out into the stream, for no good reason I could see. Hunter settled down when we got there, hidden but quite near the tents. "What are we doing?" I hissed to him when we'd been sitting quietly for some ten minutes or so, in the hot sun with water close enough to smell but not to drink. "We're listening for news." He whispered back to me. "Think they're going to talk about us?" I asked him. "What else are they going to talk about?" He said. "Besides, you in a hurry?" "I guess not." I said. "So we'll wait here until darkness and try to either buy or steal some supplies, depending on what we hear between now and then. If we have to trek down to Mexico, we'll be days on the road and not dare go into towns, we'll have to have provisions." "Oh." I said. Given this spin on it, his actions made sense. We sat there for perhaps another hour and I was getting stiff and tired and very, very hot and thirsty, when we got what we were looking for. Two men came down to the water, with buckets. And we overheard what they said. "So King Carson's bought the Broken T." One said. "Not surprised." the second replied. "Seeing what it's worth." They both laughed at that. "Makes me feel better." the first said. "Not right to work a claim when you don't own it." "Too bad the old guy was too busy raising cattle." the second said sympathetically. "All this silver ore on his land and him going broke." Uncle's land had silver on it? And King Carson was stealing it! I looked over at Hunter, wanting to talk, but he was still listening to the men and he shook his head in warning. "And now his ranch-hand's dead and just that kid with him. No wonder he sold it." the first said. "I would have done the same, not knowing about the silver. Old man couldn't have worked it with just that kid." "Think the killer will come this way?" "Be a durned fool if he didn't. These hills are the only place he can hide. What beats me is how that knuckle-headed sheriff could let the man escape. Why'd he get close enough to let that man steal his gun anyway? Durned fool." "Don't know why we have law out here if it can't do a better job than that." the second commiserated. "Should have just hung that bastard on the spot, instead of fretting about the judge and jury. Circuit Judge won't get this way for another week or so." "You plan to head in for the trial if they catch him?" "Durn tooting I will. Maybe be selected as a juryman. After all, we didn't see what happened, we could be, what's the word, we could be impartial when we hung him." They talked for quite a long time by the water, until called back to their chores by the man in charge. "Well, kid, just as I thought." Hunter said. "They aren't looking for you. The thing for you to do is to go back into town and join up with your uncle, head back East with him." "But what about you?" "I'll be better off without a green youngster to have to nursemaid." He said. "But...but...." I didn't have any words to argue with him. He was right, I just a burden to him. "So now what?" I asked him. "We wait until dark." Hunter said. "Sit still and don't move a muscle until then. And no talking." I waited in that hot sun with Hunter until the sun finally, mercifully, set. The men in the tents were moving about, but we took advantage of a time when they were all gathered in a circle around their chuck-fire to sneak down and get a drink. I'd never known water to taste so good as that water did! Then it was time to be quiet again while the men settled down in the tents and, after an eternity in the darkness, all went to sleep. Hunter wouldn't let me help him grab the supplies, he sneaked off by himself and I waited forever in fear. But finally, he came back with a sack loaded about half full and said, "Okay, kid, let's go." "Where to now?" I said when we were well away from this mining camp, which had never known we were there. "Now we ride west, in the dark." Hunter said. "Go slow and watch your trail. Follow me closely." We rode the entire rest of the night, a long, treacherous, exhausting journey. But as the red-fingered dawn reached across the black silk of night, we were out of the hills and back onto the near-featureless plains. And that's where Hunter and I parted company. I found out about it when Hunter pointed a broad flat finger back to our left. "Lonely Rock is that way." Hunter said. "Just skirt the hills to the right and you'll spot it before the trail there before too long." "But what about you, Hunter?" I asked. "You going to Mexico all alone?" "Looks like it." He said. "Thanks for helping me get out of jail." "Sure." I said, not knowing what else to say. "Going to miss you, kid. Good luck." "You too, Hunter." And Hunter dug into his horse's flanks with his heels, and was off across the plains. I watched him until he was only a flickering oval on the horizon, then turned my horse around to the east. I had to find and talk with Elo's brothers. Someone knew who really killed Jobias. And I was going to find out who. So I headed back to Lonely Rock once more. END OF CHAPTER SIX Comments, suggestions or complaints? Send E-mail to TOMMYHAWK1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM