Tucker’s Grove by Kevin J. Anderson Read Free Book Online

close behind. The pain-madden ed horse knew they had come for blood, as if it could smell the intent on bodies too parched even to sweat. In the awkwardly reflected firelight, Edgerton caught a glimpse of the horse ’ s defiant eye. It seemed green and reptilian with a slit pupil, like t h e eye of a poisonous snake just waiting to give the gift of venom. Edgerton suppressed a shu d der.
    The horse glared at them as Kenner carefully placed the pot next to its heaving neck. Darby grinned and swung the stone hatchet, chopping through veins and la ying open all the liquid any desperate man could hope to gulp. Walter Tucker scra m bled forward eagerly, and bright foaming blood sprayed in his face, dripping warm and wet down his chin.
    “ Jeezus!” Kenner shouted.
    “ Quick! Get that pot under it before it sto ps spurting! You ’ re gonna lose all of it!” Barrett struggled to control the excitement in his voice as he sat back and watched the others.
    The horse made no sound as its life gushed from the wound. Its reptilian eye seemed to focus on all of them at the sa me time, until it died in the dust.
    In the village below, the Indians suddenly fell silent. The vict o ry fires continued to burn, sending demon-smoke writhing into the night.
    Kenner slurped from the pot, drinking deeply without any qualms. He passed it to D arby, who closed his eyes as he drank. Tucker snatched the pot and gulped, letting a thin, clotting trickle run across his razor stubble. Barrett drank, watching Edgerton as if this were a challenge between the two of them. Lieutenant Edgerton finally too k the near-empty pot, hesitated, looked at the remaining pool of blood as it oozed from the dead horse ’ s neck.
    Thirst clawed at his throat. He rationalized: No man could be expected to put up any kind of fight against the Sioux if all he could think of was his miserable thirst. Edgerton knew his very survival depended on this. Survival .
    He held the warm metal to his lips and sipped at the stale-copper taste.
    “ Hey! Anybody religious? We got one hell of a communion going here!” Kenner shouted.
    “ Keep quiet, yo u bastard!” Edgerton said.
    But Kenner seemed to be possessed, as if distant lightning were coursing through his veins now that he had drunk his fill. He leaped to his feet, straining against the shackles of his body and baring his teeth as he faced the sil ent burning fires in the Indian village. His eyes looked as if they were filled with molten lead. “ Dammit, I could run down there right now and kill them Ind i ans with my bare hands!” He clawed at the air in a disturbingly animal gesture.
    “ Kenner, would you keep down! Shut up!” Barrett hissed.
    Edgerton could feel the hot blood like glowing iron in his gut. He wanted to vomit, but couldn ’ t.
    Another trooper, a captain, parted the shadows and came fo r ward, calling to no one in particular. “ Doc Porter says we ha ve to have water. Major Reno is asking for volunteers to make a dash to the creek. Anybody interested?” His voice sounded tired, asking out of duty but not expecting an answer.
    “ Hell, yes!” Kenner jumped toward the captain, startling him. His mouth, beard, and the front of his shirt were covered with blood. “ What a way to get even with those savages! Gimme two pots and I ’ ll fill ’ em! Hurry!”
    Kenner snatched the pots and made a dash for the edge of the bluff as if he needed to burn away the energy that bubbl ed through him. For an instant, Edgerton thought the big man would leap headfirst off the bluff, but then Kenner found the steep and narrow buffalo trail that wound down to the river bank. He disappeared into the shadows below.
    A few moments later Darby st ood up. “ I ’ m going with him.”
    The captain looked as if both men had lost their minds, but he handed Darby a pot and sent him down the trail as well.
    Walter Tucker scrambled to the edge and lay on his stomach, peering into the darkness. “ Kenner ’ s at the cre ek