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    Bodie 7: Desert Run
    Bodie 7: Desert Run
    Bodie 7: Desert Run
    Ebook119 pages1 hour

    Bodie 7: Desert Run

    By Neil Hunter

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Bodie was trailing three men who’d escaped from Yuma Pen – three men he’d helped to put there in the first place. But when they shot his horse out from under him, he found himself set afoot in the searing desert.
    If he was to turn the tables on the men now hunting him, he needs to reach the life-saving waters at Pinto Wells. But just when he figured he’s in the clear, he found another shock awaiting him.
    A face from his past. An equally dedicated killer – thought to be dead – who’s tracked Bodie down and plans to exact his own vengeance.
    Bodie figured he was safe after dealing with the escapees. But now he faces another challenge from the man called Silverbuck.
    This time it’s a struggle to the death, with no quarter and only one will walk away from the desert run...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPiccadilly
    Release dateNov 30, 2015
    ISBN9781310107061
    Bodie 7: Desert Run
    Author

    Neil Hunter

    Neil Hunter is, in fact, the prolific Lancashire-born writer Michael R. Linaker. As Neil Hunter, Mike wrote two classic western series, BODIE THE STALKER and JASON BRAND. Under the name Richard Wyler he produced four stand-alone westerns, INCIDENT AT BUTLER’S STATION, THE SAVAGE JOURNEY, BRIGHAM’S WAY and TRAVIS.

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      Book preview

      Bodie 7 - Neil Hunter

      Bodie was trailing three men who’d escaped from Yuma Pen – three men he’d helped to put there in the first place. But when they shot his horse out from under him, he found himself set afoot in the searing desert.

      If he was to turn the tables on the men now hunting him, he needs to reach the life-saving waters at Pinto Wells. But just when he figured he’s in the clear, he found another shock awaiting him.

      A face from his past. An equally dedicated killer – thought to be dead – who’s tracked Bodie down and plans to exact his own vengeance.

      Bodie figured he was safe after dealing with the escapees. But now he faces another challenge from the man called Silverbuck.

      This time it’s a struggle to the death, with no quarter and only one will walk away from the desert run…

      DESERT RUN

      BODIE THE STALKER 7

      By Neil Hunter

      Copyright © 2015 by Michael R. Linaker

      First Smashwords Edition: December 2015

      Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

      This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

      Series Editor: Ben Bridges

      Text © Piccadilly Publishing

      Published by Arrangement with the Author.

      Prologue

      His Apache name at birth had been Massai yet when he had grown and become a hunter of men he became known as Silverbuck…

      The Spanish word for him was Mestizo. To the Pinda Lickoyi he was a half-breed. His father had been a full-blood Mescalero warrior, his mother a young Mexican captive. His mother had died when he was ten years old and he had been raised within the family of his father, though never fully accepted by the tribe. When he was seventeen years old, already a proven fighter, Massai’s father was killed, along with a few other Apaches in a fight with the American cavalry in the rocky escarpments of the Canyon de Chelly.

      His mother had taught him Spanish and a cousin of his father coached him in English. By the time he reached his grown age he was conversant in both languages as well as his native tongue.

      With the deaths of his parents behind him and feeling unsettled due to his divergent bloodline he saw the isolation developing. It drove him away from the tribe and he took to living in two worlds. With his language skills he was able to pass among the Mexicans and Americans, dressing their way and remaining observant and at the same time quiet and subservient. His existence on the fringes of society allowed him to pass unnoticed and he learned to listen and not talk, picking up information that would be of use to him. At first he took on small jobs that enabled him to employ his Apache skills, though he played on his Mexican heritage which allowed him to move with less challenges. He tracked wanted men from the posters displayed and found he was good at this.

      Slowly his reputation built as he succeeded with each new hunt. From the start he asked to be paid in silver dollars. It became his trademark and before long he was being addressed by this affectation. By then he had become addicted to the lure of ready money his skills with the gun could bring and with each success his reputation grew. In addition to his man hunting he began to hire out his gun, unmindful of the reasons why he was being employed.

      So the half-breed Massai became the man hunter and gunman known as Silverbuck. He had chosen his path and found there was ample work for someone with his talents.

      He favored the impassive face of his people, his dark skin held tight over pronounced cheekbones, though the left one showed where it had once been broken. His black hair was chopped back to his neck, because it made him look more Mexican than Apache and helped him move around in the white man’s world, though he favored a traditional Apache headband that kept his hair away from his face. When he was on the hunt he abandoned his white man’s clothing and wore a faded blue shirt, a pair of washed out Levis and N’deh b’keh, the traditional, high Apache footwear. Around his waist hung a simple leather belt that supported the leather holster and the much-used .45 caliber Colt’s Peacemaker. A broad bladed knife was sheathed on his left side. He also favored a.44-40 Winchester rifle with a cut down barrel and stock. It went everywhere with him and was at his side when he slept. In a thick hide pouch, slung around his waist, Silverbuck carried additional loads for both rifle and pistol. He was proficient with them all and had no hesitation using them when needed.

      This day he squatted on a rocky outcrop, indifferent to the blistering heat, his gaze fixed on the lone figure moving slowly across the desert flats. A tall Pinda Lickoyi, he was known to Silverbuck. Alone and on foot, his steps slow and uncertain as he crossed the forbidding emptiness of the wasteland, he no longer appeared a threat to the lone Apache warrior as he had on other occasions.

      The big man was what the Pinda Lickoyi called a bounty hunter. He hunted men down for the rewards posted on them as did Silverbuck. Silverbuck knew this man as a powerful warrior. Swift with the gun he carried and merciless when he tracked his quarry.

      Among the Pinda Lickoyi he was known as The Stalker.

      Silverbuck knew him by his given name…he was called Bodie.

      And he was the man Silverbuck had come to kill.

      They had clashed when Silverbuck had taken a contract to side with men who were hired to seek Bodie. In a violent confrontation between them, the breed had barely survived. He had been left for dead by the man hunter. His face badly marked from Bodie’s attack, an arm and ribs broken and his throat slit open by a savage knife cut. If Bodie had not been in a running fight with others he might have seen Silverbuck still lived. Barely able to move, having lost much blood, the Apache had dragged himself away, found his horse and had ridden quietly from the scene after tightly binding his neck with strips of cloth cut from a shirt. He had travelled far enough to take him away from Bodie and had ridden out of the brasada. Back to the land of the Apache.

      More dead than alive Silverbuck had reached the place of an old Apache who practiced the healing arts. The Apache’s primitive home had been isolated in the unbleached high country, far from prying eyes. The old man saw to Silverbuck’s injuries, setting the broken arm, binding his ribs and sewing the gash in his throat. The treatment was basic but it closed the wound, leaving a thick, ragged scar. What the Mexican could not do was repair the internal damage to Silverbuck’s vocal cords and when his wound healed the breed found he was left with virtually no ability to speak. Anything he said came out as a low, harsh whisper of sound. Silverbuck stayed with the Apache for over three months, letting his ravaged body heal as best it could. He had lost two teeth and his nose, broken in the fight, though reset by the old man, had remained off center. The broken cheekbone showed as a lump beneath the skin. None of these things worried Silverbuck. He had no vanity where his looks were concerned. He was a warrior, not a weak woman concerned over her appearance.

      Over the long weeks of his slow recovery Silverbuck was barely able to eat while his mouth healed and he was in considerable pain. He accepted his limitations because he was Apache in spirit and the Apache bore pain and suffering as part of life. The old man brought Silverbuck Apache remedies that offered relief from the pain. There were herbs and plants that offered pain relief, known only to the healers for generations. And the Apache gave Silverbuck Peyote to calm his spirits and allow him the visions so he could pass the long days and nights in a restive stupor.

      While he rested, slowly gaining in strength, Silverbuck saw in his mind what he needed to do in order to restore

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