Edge: Apache Death

The man's face clouded and he did a double take to make sure the newcomer wasn't joking. When he saw his first impression had been correct he upended a whisky bottle over the beer glass and didn't stop pouring until there was a puddle on the bar.

"This section of the bar got the plague?" Edge asked, when he had taken a long draught at the drink

The bartender tried to replace his grin, but it was lopsided. "On account of the army," he answered. "Civilians don't like the army."

"Why?"

"There's been some Apache trouble round, here of late."

Edge narrowed his eyes, "Seems to me the town ought to be' happy to have the army around then,"

The bartender shook his head and no 'longer tried for the pretense of a smile. His face was suddenly long with gravity and his eyes became nervous. "Ain't as simple as that. Rumors got around that the army is being issued with a new kind of gun. Best repeating rifle that's ever been made. Apaches heard the rumor too. And, they figure them new guns is going to be used against them."

Edge sipped his beer and eyed the man over the rim of the glass. "I saw a few Apaches in action. I figure the guns must be more than just a rumor."

The bartender nodded. "Well, couple of weeks ago an army wagon train rolled into Fort Rainbow and those wagons were riding real low on their springs, mister. And ever since that train came in, Apache attacks have increased. And they're getting closer to Rainbow. Another rumor is that Chief Cochise and his brother have ordered the whole Apache nation into the territory for an attack on Rainbow."

Edge nodded and narrowed his eyes, creasing his brow in thought, He turned to lean his back against the bar and survey the saloon again, He saw something he hadn't noted before. Almost every man in the room was armed, not only with holstered handguns, but, like Edge himself, with a rifle. And he recalled that the people out on the street had also been carrying more arms than were strictly necessary for a stroll downtown. Edge sensed somebody standing at his side and, turned to see the colonel there, in the same attitude of reflective study.

“I think you're a man of some perception, sir," the officer said softly. "You can see these people are shit scared and trying to hide it by pretending they're having fun."

The colonel was as tall as Edge, but a good deal thinner. His age could have been anything from thirty-five to forty-five, because his clipped hair was gray far beyond his years and his sallow, spare features were marked by too many lines of hard experience and deep worry. He had a look of bone-hard fatigue which even the intelligent brightness of his eyes could not conceal. During his service in the Civil War, Edge had seen many such men, promoted before their time because they showed ability far beyond the mean, but not mature enough to handle the responsibilities of command.

"With good reason, I hear," Edge, answered.

"And you saw, Lieutenant Sawyer tells me," the colonel said. "He said you had a run-in with four braves up on the south ridge."

"Four more good Indians?"

"I don't hold with that sentiment," Colonel Murray came back quickly. "Washington wants peace with the, Chiricahua Apaches in this part of the territory. But Cochise doesn't trust Washington and I'm the buffer in between. If the Indians attack, it's my duty to defend the fort and for my sins, the people of this town."

Edge sipped his beer and spoke without looking at the army man. "You ain't talking for the pleasure of my company, colonel," he said.

Murray cleared his throat. "You met some Apaches on the south ridge this morning. I lost a patrol, except for one man, in the west this afternoon. This evening I got a telegraph report that a war party of fifty braves wiped out a settlement fifteen miles east of Rainbow."

Edge grinned coldly. "They're closing in on Rainbow, uh?"

"And fast," Murray said with a sigh. "I've got less than a hundred men at the fort,"

"Town's full of men," Edge pointed out.

Murray grimaced. "Scared and undisciplined. There's probably only one Indian fighter amongst them."

"I ain't an Indian fighter," Edge answered. "I kill anybody who tries to kill me—Indians, Americans or guys with green spots and horns growing out their heads."

Murray eyed Edge with distaste. "You take care of yourself and nobody else matters?" he said contemptuously.

Edge eyed him coldly. "To me, nobody else does, colonel."

The army man seemed about to hurl a rebuke at Edge, but caught the dangerous glint in the other's expression and spun on his heels to return to his men.

"Beer!" Edge called and the bartender moved quickly up to him with a bottle.

"You cheating bastard!"