Revolution

by derrx004

Canon tells us only that Johnny met some nice people with no money. So how did a well known, high priced gunfighter come to fight for such a hopeless cause?

Prologue

From Before the Revolution

When he woke up Chorro was still dead.

Johnny Madrid walked slowly all the way back to town. He cleaned himself up, bought a new horse, and decided to take the first job he could find where he could get himself killed.

Part One

Johnny gritted his teeth as he tied the pack mule to a scrub bush outside Onavas. He didn't really have a choice; he didn't want to show his hand right away. If the animal—with its load of guns, ammunition, and dynamite—died of neglect, like Chorro…well, Chorro died because Johnny fucked up. If the mule died, it would be because Johnny got dead first. He sat on the ground beside the mule for a quick rest while his horse ripped at the few weeds in the dust. When the sun glared overhead, he mounted back up and rode into Onavas.

Crumbling gray fortifications on the outer edge of the village gave way to scattered houses between painted adobe shops. Mercantiles and tradesmen's shops huddled together with cantinas and eating places as he got to the center of town. Across the square the whitewashed walls of the Mission Pedro y San Pablo nearly blinded him.

The streets were empty, just as Johnny had hoped; it was siesta time. His horse snorted at the smell of water; Johnny let him pick up his pace to the trough at the top of the square. The gelding sipped noisily while Johnny swung out of the saddle, shoved his hat off his head, and reached into the trough himself to throw tepid water on his face. Wiping his hands on his shirt, he caught a shadow emerging from a doorway. The shadow solidified into a man wearing the felt sombrero and silver braid of the rurales.

Damn. He thought he'd have more time.

"Are you the pistolero?"

Johnny squinted up at the rurale before reaching back to pull his hat on. "You expectin' one?"

The bigger man faked a laugh. "Don't mess with me, smart ass. I know everything that goes on in this town."

Johnny tilted his head and smiled his working smile. "Then I guess you know who I am." He pulled the rein of his horse and turned to walk away.

The rurale reached out to grab Johnny's arm. Johnny jerked it away, hard. "You don't wanna touch me, mister." He wasn't smiling now.

The man raised his hands a little. "What's your business here?"

"Well, right now I'm looking for a place to stable my horse, and then a room for the night. You the innkeeper? Or maybe the livery man?" Johnny kept his voice steady. "No? Then step aside."

He pulled his horse down the street, fighting the urge to look back to make sure the rurale wasn't following.

Johnny's horse didn't mind the gaping wooden doors of the livery at the other end of town. Run down, maybe, but at least the place smelled okay. He paid the livery man for two days and, as he settled the chestnut, thought briefly of the loaded mule. He shoved the thought away and walked into the street. There was no sign of the rurale, but he felt hidden eyes watching him as he followed the directions from the hiring committee to the boarding house. He readjusted his saddle bags against his shoulder as an excuse to take a look around, but he didn't see anything to worry about.

He turned north at the last split from the main street. Down one more block he found Rosa's pensión in the middle of a row of tiny, tidy houses. The door opened as he knocked. Rosa, stooped over and wrinkled, asked, "Johnny Madrid?" When he nodded she waved away the money pouch he pulled from his pocket and led him to a room in the back of the house.

The door opened to a room that was surprisingly big, which was good because the three men from the hiring committee were in it. Roman Ortego, a little taller than Johnny and extravagantly mustachioed, rose from a wooden chair. It squeaked on the floor as he tucked it under a small desk. Two other men slid off the edge of the bed as Johnny walked in.

"You gents been waitin' here since you got back from Sonoyta?" They shuffled out of his way as Johnny set his rifle and saddle bags on the now empty bed.

After they shook hands all around, Roman took charge of the conversation, just as he had done in Sonoyta. "We've been watching for you. We saw you come into town, and after Morales talked to you we took the chance to come here and wait."

That explained the prickles of the back of his neck. "Morales, huh? He the only one in town right now?"

"As far as we know. The rest of the rurales stay at their outpost on Don Cordero's hacienda."

Johnny hitched himself up on the bed. He tucked the two feather pillows behind him and leaned back, stretching to relieve the aches of days in the saddle. He'd really rather not be talking to anyone right now, but here they were.

"What else has been going on?"

For an instant the silence was heavy. Roman rubbed his hand over his face; he looked at his compadres, and then turned to Johnny. "Don Cordero has taken two girls to work in his house. Their parents…all of us…fear for their safety."

"Taken them? Like stealing them?"

"The Patron's Segundo offered them jobs as housemaids. The girls didn't know any better and said yes. When the parents found out they of course forbade it, but the Patron's men came and insisted. They took the girls away, and when the parents went to try to bring them home they weren't even allowed to see their daughters."

"That stinks." Johnny's chest hurt a little for fear of the girls and their families. This was worse than he had expected.

Luis, the oldest man of the group, shook his grizzled head. "While we've waited for you we've gotten all the guns and ammunition we can, like you told us to. That was difficult, and I don't think we have as much as we may need."

Glad for the change in topic, Johnny nodded. He hadn't expected the peasants to be able to lay their hands on many weapons, but every little bit helped. "Tell me about this Morales."

Roman answered. "He was here when we got back from Sonoyta. He's staying at the roadhouse. He rides off every two or three days, is gone a few days, then comes back."

"How did he know who I was?"

The youngest of the three shifted uneasily, his round face reddening. "It was me. I mentioned you in a cantina. I didn't know Morales could hear me."

"Yeah, well, don't worry too much about it…" Johnny couldn't remember the man's name. He was short, with rolled up sleeves that threatened to fall down to his bony wrists.

"I'm Chus Candella. I apologize…"

Johnny waved away the apology. "No harm done. He'd find out sooner or later."

"What happens now?"

Johnny didn't really have an answer for them yet. His intention had always been to cause a ruckus and get himself dead, but the missing girls added a pressure he knew he'd have to deal with. He shook his head at the men.

"I left a mule with more supplies a couple miles outside of town. Be careful when you bring it in. You don't want anyone seeing this particular mule."

He gave them a few landmarks. "And while someone does that, I'm going to clean up and find a bite to eat."

Roman hesitated, then said, "You will eat with me, Senor Madrid. My family is honored to have you in our home."

Shoot. He didn't really want to make small talk with a bunch of strangers. "Well, I appreciate that, but I'm not fit company right now. Point me to a cantina and a bath house, and we'll talk tomorrow."

Roman breathed a sigh that sounded like relief. He gave Johnny directions to an eating house, and then he, Chus, and Luis left. Johnny stood in the suddenly quiet room and rubbed his face.

Part Two

Morales was nowhere to be seen when Johnny asked Roman to show him around early the next morning. Onavas wasn't exactly thriving, but it was doing better than the the border towns where Johnny had been plying his trade. The ancient walls of the village were crumbling now, but the houses were tidy. Many of them had small gardens and some had barns for burros and goats.

Once Johnny got his bearings in town, they hired a buckboard and a mule to see the countryside where Mexicans and Indians shared fields in the broad lowlands west of the Sierra Madres. They grew wheat, corn, and beans, or at least they tried. Today the crops slumped brown and tired, the edges of their leaves crisp and curling. The Yaqui River wound along the border of the fields, or it would have, if it hadn't mostly all dried up.

At first Roman appeared uncomfortable in Johnny's company, but as he pointed out dry washes where the irrigation ditches and creeks should be, he relaxed and became talkative.

"This land belonged to Onavas until the Spaniards decided it belonged to them. Don Cordero showed papers that he said made him the owner of our land." He leaned over the side of the buckboard and spat into the dust. "He said he'd pay us to keep working it, but he takes our harvests for himself."

Roman's work-hardened hands clenched the lines; the mule tossed his head. "For years we thought if we just worked harder, grew more, added land, we could come out on top. But with the drought the Patron has decreased our pay. We are hungry. And now that our women and children are at risk, we are angry."

They drove into a stand of Durango pines where patchy shade cut through some of the heat. Roman jumped down with a grunt and reached in the back for a woven basket. He set it on a flat rock and pulled out bundles of bread and cheese. Inside a linen cloth was a hunk of roast pork. He smiled at Johnny and invited him to sit on the dusty ground for a shared lunch.

Johnny took a bite. "Mmmm. Your wife is a good cook." The quickest way to get on a man's good side was to compliment his wife's cooking. Besides, the pork really was good.

Roman fairly burst with pride. "She is."

Johnny looked at the stout man beside him and swallowed. "So tell me, Roman. You got kids?"

"Three of our own. Alexis is six. Angel is four. Leica is three. And we have added Augustan, who is twelve."

"That's a neat trick." Johnny smiled. Roman didn't. "How did that happen?"

Roman looked off into the distance. "Augustan is my own son, from…from before I was married. His mother sent him to us. My wife, who has a good heart and believes strongly in her Christian duty, convinced me to set my shame and pride aside, and we took him in." Roman frowned. "He is learning to be a good boy, but he is angry."

Johnny looked sidelong at Roman.

"He lived with his mother and her sister in Yecora. I didn't know… When he arrived in Onavas I didn't even know who he was. When he showed us the letter from his mother Leona insisted we take him in."

Welcoming another woman's child couldn't have been an easy thing to do. "Leona must be quite a woman."

Nodding, Roman broke a piece of bread in two and handed half to Johnny, still avoiding his eyes.

"She is helping us find our way. To my wife, family is family. My son is her son. For me it is not so easy, but with her to help us, I think we will be able to save him."

"From what?"

Roman stared into the stand of trees. "From himself. He came here bragging how well he has done without me. He claims he doesn't need a father. He feels he is fully a man, but he does stupid things."

"Like what?"

"I'm ashamed to tell you he broke into a pawn shop. He had done it several times, but finally got caught. His mother tried to make him work to pay off the debt, but he refused. She finally sent him to me to keep him out of jail."

Well, Johnny had his own moments of stupid, didn't he? Sometimes a few nights in jail could straighten out a fellow's mind. Then again, it wasn't something he'd recommend to most folks.

"Leona says he needs me, even though he doesn't know it. He didn't have a father when he was growing up. He started running with a bad crowd …"

Johnny knew about bad crowds. Then again, he had picked up some useful skills from those days. Maybe Roman's son could be a part of their little revolution. He'd have to think how to raise the subject with Roman and his wife, though.

The big man breathed in deeply then blew it out. "What of you? Tell me about your family."

Johnny swallowed the last of his bread. "Nothing to tell. My stepfather died years ago. My mama followed a few years later. That's it."

He felt Roman looking hard at him, but it was Johnny's turn to avoid the other man's gaze. "Let's start making plans."

They headed back toward town, then left the dirt road and drove down a path to an outbuilding on the edge of the communal fields. It had been a barn, but the livestock it housed had been sold or eaten last year. It leaned a bit to one side and looked deserted, but the explosives and ammunition Johnny had brought with him lined a wall, hidden behind tarps and sheets. Roman showed Johnny a table in a back corner, with sawhorses and wood planks around it for seating. Next to the table a door stood open to a small scrub forest; his pack mule grazed in a small pen there.

Roman explained, "The rurales and Patron's men rarely come this far out of town, so we thought this would be a good place to meet. There are about six or seven trustworthy men who want to see this through to the end."

Well, if Johnny had anything to say about it, he would be the only one seeing any kind of end.

"We need to get the men together without Morales seeing. You said he usually only stays a couple of days. Keep an eye on him and send word when he's gone. We'll meet here the next day, mid-morning."

"Good enough. What will you need in the meantime?"

"Nothin'. I'll lay low, do some planning…" Johnny knew trying to stop the patron taking over the land was a tall order. He had some thoughts about it, but one thing he knew was that nothing ever went according to plan. He'd have to work hard to keep on top of the situation.

He hoped it would be the last thing he ever did.

***

The next day a group of the Patron's men rode laughing and shouting down the main street of Onavas, led by Morales on a rangy roan horse. The rurale scanned the streets, but Onavas's citizens had disappeared. Just before the patrol reached the fountain Johnny strolled out of the same cantina Morales had emerged from on his arrival. Johnny stood in the street, hip cocked, shoulders loose, blocking the rurale's horse and forcing every man to a halt.

"Aha! The pistolero!" Morales called. The horses were still except for a few head tosses and jingles of bits. Johnny smiled up at Morales. A gun dangled from his fingers. He kept his voice loud enough to be heard, but soft enough the men in the back had to strain a little.

"Morales! I'm Johnny Madrid. From now on you can consider Onavas under my protection."

Morales laughed. "Why should we? You think you can…"

But as Morales talked Johnny raised his gun and fired a shot into the dirt in front of the roan. The horse reared backward. The rurale struggled to keep his seat while his compadres grabbed their weapons. Johnny fanned the hammer to empty his gun at the ground; the bullets kicked up dust and pebbles and the horses skittered back. Johnny smiled at the riders steadying their mounts as he smoothly stuck the spent revolver through his belt and pulled his Colt from its holster.

"Yeah. I think I can."

Morales aimed his pistol at Johnny. "You're crazy. There are ten men here from the Patron, and I have twenty men in my unit. There isn't a chance in hell you can take all of us."

Johnny squinted up at him, still smiling. He didn't bother to raise his Colt. "Well now, I don't need to take you all. I just need to stop you. Make you see the error of your ways. Convince the Patron to leave these nice people alone to live their lives. I can do that. All you have to do is stay away."

"I could cut you down right now."

"Okay." Johnny took one step back and holstered his gun, but his right hand hovered near its grip.

The horses felt the indecision of their riders and refused to stay still. Johnny watched Morales and a couple of younger men who looked like they smelled blood. There was a good chance one of them would try to shoot.

Morales finally leaned back in his saddle and laughed loudly. "Madrid, you are one scary hombre. We don't want to kill anyone today." He turned his horse with one hand raised, and the rest of the men followed him.

As the hoofbeats receded Johnny took a deep breath. His insides were shaking. Even though he didn't intend to leave this fight alive, his instinct for survival was strong, and that had been a close one. But he didn't have long to calm down before he was surrounded by laughing men pounding him on his back and congratulating him on running the patron's men out of town. In ten minutes, with no sign of the mounted patrol returning, the church bell rang in celebration.

Part Three

He couldn't dodge Roman's invitation any longer; that evening, Johnny presented himself at the cozy house not far from his pensión. Roman's wife Leona showed him to the tiny room inside the back door where the wash basin sat. Johnny inhaled the comforting smell of home cooked food as he washed up. The younger children had already been fed. Shy-eyed little Leica stole glances at him until Leona shooed her outside to join her brothers. They would spend the dinner hour with Leona's sister Lucia, who lived next door with her husband Juan and thirteen year old daughter Isidra.

Augustan sat at the table, sullen and tense. Square jawed with overlong dark hair, he stood to shake Johnny's hand but said nothing. He threw himself back into his chair and ate without looking up. Leona, too, was very quiet as she served dinner from wooden platters. Johnny and Roman talked of nothing in particular. But toward the end of the meal, when Leona was seated next to her husband and the conversation turned to family, she spoke freely.

"And your familia, Senor Madrid?" Her tone was respectful yet demanding. Johnny wondered how she did that. He ducked his head and smiled.

"Not much to tell. My folks are gone."

"Do you have brothers or sisters?" Leona wore short bangs; her long hair was braided down her back. She was much shorter than her husband even when sitting at the table.

Johnny shook his head and took another bite of Leona's wonderful flauta. He knew the family couldn't really afford another mouth to feed, but it would be an insult not to eat what he was given. He understood the honor Roman and his family were offering—especially when it came to trusting a pistolero around their kids.

"Cousins? Aunts? Uncles?"

He stopped in mid chew to smile with his mouth closed; he shook his head once again.

"A young man like you should be thinking about marriage. Is there a girl somewhere waiting for you?"

Johnny felt himself blush, and he swallowed so quickly he began to cough. Augustan snickered and Roman laughed out loud.

But the senora wasn't done. She pulled a napkin off a plate and spooned strawberries in cream onto Johnny's plate. She passed the spoon to Roman and turned once more to Johnny.

"No one should go through this world alone, without the love of his parents and cousins, his wife and her family. It is impossible to be happy alone, Senor Madrid, and I see by your eyes you have been alone."

Johnny dropped his eyes to study the blood red berries in front of him, wondering how she could see the darkness in him. "I get by," he said.

Roman laid his hand over his wife's. "No one doubts that, Johnny. I know you are a proud man. But pride doesn't keep a man warm at night. It doesn't feed him or give him children. It doesn't take care of him when he's sick or comfort him when a friend has wronged him."

Johnny glanced up to see Roman squeeze his wife's hand. She placed her other hand on top and squeezed back. Such a small gesture between a husband and a wife, but it put a lump in his throat.

"When we have won our battle here, you should stay."

Johnny swallowed the lump. "Hmph. And do what? I don't see a town like this needing a pistolero very often."

Roman chuckled. "Surely you have other talents."

Johnny stared at him and pretended to think hard. "Nope. Not a one."

The senora reached over and swatted him with the napkin she'd taken from the strawberries, and they all laughed a bit. Even Augustan smirked. But Senora Leona wasn't through with him yet.

"Were you born in Sonora?"

"California."

"What did your papa do?"

"Which one?"

Leona and Roman stared at him, and Augustan looked up sharply. Damn. That was rude, and these folks didn't deserve his sass. He cleared his throat.

"My mother and I left California when I was little. Later she got married, and until he died that man was my father." He stopped a deep sigh from welling up. "Not too long after that she died, too."

"I'm sorry, Johnny. And is your father in California still living?"

Johnny shrugged. "Guess so."

"Does he know where you are?"

From the corner of his eye he saw Augustan looking at him with real interest. Johnny debated his answer. He had dodged the few Pinkertons who had gotten close enough for him to identify. He knew Murdoch Lancer was looking for him, but he'd mostly forgotten about his father's existence. Johnny had long outgrown his urge to kill the man who threw him and mama away.

He realized he had let the silence go on too long when Roman cleared his throat. "Johnny?"

He mumbled an apology. Roman changed the subject, and the rest of the meal was considerably lighter in tone.

After dinner Augustan was sent outside to feed the chickens and bring his brothers and sister home. It was the chance they had hoped for to ask Leona's blessing to involve Augustan in their fight. Roman bravely brought up the topic; he was quick to reassure his wife the boy wouldn't be armed. Johnny piped up that boys could carry messages and run errands, freeing up a grown man for the more dangerous duties.

Leona, as expected, was reluctant. "He is very much a child," she told them.

"I think a kid with Gus's brains could be a real asset," Johnny explained. He thought better of telling her of his own childhood history of pickpocketing and petty thievery, even though those skills still came in handy. He figured Augustan, with his checkered background, would have similar abilities. "I promise I'll do my best not to let him near any danger."

In the end she agreed that Roman could ask the boy if he wanted to help. As the conversation was ending all the children returned home, and Johnny got to give good night kisses and hugs all around. Augustan stood back and watched, but the two little boys jumped right in to hug Johnny.

Little Leica hung back, too, but she beamed at Johnny when he said to her, "I know you. You're the princess I've heard about, aren't you?" Everyone laughed when she nodded shyly. "Princess Leica, it's an honor to know you and your family." He reached out his hand, and she put her tiny one in it. Her touch was light, her hand sticky. He carefully brought it to his lips and gave it a little kiss. She giggled.

Johnny's heart was lighter than it had been in a very long time as he walked through the quiet streets back to his Rosa's. He hadn't seen much of happy families in the past few years. He ached with missing his mama and papa, and he hoped Roman and Leona's kids understood how lucky they were.

Part Four

On the first Monday of the month Don Cordero sent a man to pay the farmers their wages and collect any taxes due. Johnny watched from across the street as the Don's Segundo, Miguel Castillo, stopped his wagon in front of the mercantile. The shopkeeper, a man called Hernan, ran out and took his list of supplies. Johnny heard Hernan promise to have the wagon loaded in no time. Castillo climbed down and hitched his mule to a post. He pulled a leather-bound book from under the seat and walked a few doors down to the town's largest cantina.

Johnny moved closer; he leaned on a pickle barrel so he could watch the townsmen enter the cantina, hats in hand. He saw them stand in front of a round wooden table where Castillo studied the big book opened in front of him. Castillo flipped the pages back and forth, pointing at entries, and the men alternately nodded or shook their heads.

It took less than an hour to divest the good men of Onavas of what little extra they had managed to grow, or earn, or scrounge in the past month. A few men were able to push some cash to Castillo; a smaller few got some money back. Most had nothing. There were discussions about what the peasants might have to barter with, and how much a goat or pig might deduct from the amount owed. If the trade was agreeable, the peasant left to go bring his offering to the Patron.

Finally only Leona's brother-in-law Juan Robles was left to square his account. He stood in front of the Segundo for a long time. His voice was low and Johnny couldn't make out his words, but Castillo get angrier and angrier until he jumped up and strode outside. Robles came behind him, still talking, but Castillo turned his back to the man. Robles threw up his arms. He looked to the sky, shook his head, and then hurried down the street.

Castillo paced. He paused to light a cigar. He puffed it with obvious relish, flicking the ash into the dusty street. The fragrant smoke drifted past Johnny's pickle barrel. It had been quite a while since he'd smelled good tobacco and he hated to admit to himself that he enjoyed it. As Castillo puffed the last of the cigar, Robles reappeared, pulling one end of a frayed rope tied around the skinny neck of a very unhappy she-goat. Robles gave it a final tug as he got to Castillo's wagon.

Just then his daughter caught up with him. She was barefoot; her face, stained with tears, was red from running. As Castillo motioned Robles to put the goat in the wagon, the girl grabbed her father's arm. "Papa, we need the milk. Please don't do this."

Robles shrugged her off angrily. "I told you to stay home." He moved to pick the goat up as Castillo stepped closer to the girl.

"Senor, is this your lovely daughter?"

Robles straightened up and blinked. He looked at Isidra as if seeing her for the first time.

Castillo leered at her. "Young lady, I see you want to change the terms of my agreement with your papa."

Isidra stared at the Segundo. Her eyes grew huge, and her mouth opened as if to answer but no words came out.

Castillo chuckled. "It's all right. Sometimes agreements can be altered. Your papa owes the Patron a certain amount of money, but it is possible that we can find another way to satisfy his debt."

"No!" Robles thrust the goat's rope into Castillo's hand as he pushed Isidra away. "Go now. Go home to your mother."

Isidra looked uncertainly from the Segundo to her father.

"Do as I say. Go. Run!"

Isidra ran. Castillo watched her go before he turned back to Robles.

"She is a lovely, obedient daughter. You are a lucky man."

Robles stared at him, breathing hard. "Take the goat."

Castillo laughed. "You know, the Patron sometimes has need of maids…"

"We agreed. Take the goat." Robles picked the animal up and threw it in the back of the wagon. He tied the rope to a large crate. Then he turned and hurried away, but not before Johnny saw his face, pale with fear.

Part Five

" So, Gus," Johnny started, hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake. "I need you to do something for me." They sat on a bench in front of the apothecary where Johnny had discovered the druggist's fresh brewed ginger ale. He'd bought one for himself and one for Augustan.

"See, I need a kid to steal something,"

Gus's eyes widened, but then his face closed down completely. "Why are you asking me?"

Johnny leaned back against the wall and shifted his shoulders. "Well, because your papi told me you'd had some trouble with the law, and I need someone with that kind of experience."

"I never did anything."

"Didn't say you did. Just said you got in trouble. Now look, I need somebody to go into a place I know and bring me some papers from a desk there."

"What place?"

Johnny allowed himself a small smile. "The rurales have an office a few miles from here, on Don Cordero's rancho."

"The rurales?"

He nodded.

"You want me to break into the rurales' office?"

Johnny nodded. "Now, I'm gonna open the door for you, but I need a kid to go in so it looks like just a normal kind of break in, you know? In case you get caught."

Augustan straightened up. "I won't get caught."

"The way I heard you got caught before."

Augustan stared at the ground. "What did you hear?"

Johnny grinned. "Nothing real bad. Look, I know the sort of things you learned before you came to Onavas. And I know they can come in handy. Sometimes."

The kid gave him a look like he was crazy. "Are you setting me up?"

"Me? No! I'm giving you the chance to help the cause using your…skills."

Augustan took a long drag on his ginger ale. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What do you want me to steal?"

"Papers. I'll get the door unlocked for you. You'll sneak in through the back and grab all the papers and folders and envelopes and stuff like that you can find."

"And then what?"

"And then you give them to me, and we come back home."

"That's it?"

Johnny had to laugh. "What more do you want?"

Gus might have smiled a little. "I dunno. Stuff like money, or guns, or… I don't know. Important stuff. Stuff that's worth something."

"Well, I gotta tell you, the papers might just be worth a lot to me, and to the revolution."

"So just papers?"

"Tell you what. You bring me all the papers you can lay your hands on, and if you see any ammunition laying around you can grab that too. How's that?"

"Okay."

Throughout the conversation Augustan had barely looked at Johnny. As they stood to return their bottles to the wooden case outside the apothecary's door, he finally met his eyes.

"Are you really Johnny Madrid?"

"Yeah."

"I heard of you."

"Yeah?"

Gus nodded. He looked away and swallowed hard. "They say you're real fast."

"That what they say?"

It seemed Gus had run out of words, but Johnny knew what the kid was getting at. Kids about Gus's age found a lot to admire in pistoleros. Johnny knew it because he'd been one of them. But the last thing Johnny wanted to see was a kid going down the same path he'd taken.

"Look, Gus. It's a trade, that's all. A gun is a tool. But it's a tool that kills people. That ain't anything to take lightly, or to admire much."

Gus nodded, but Johnny didn't think for a minute he'd gotten through. He'd have to keep trying.

"Okay, let's plan to do this thing the next night the moon is bright. Wear dark clothes. I'll be at your home after dark. See you then."

And he walked away, faintly disturbed at the hero worship in the boy's eyes.

Three nights later, after midnight, Johnny and Augustan walked north and east, following a map drawn for them by Luis, who had done carpentry work for the rurales. They found a small outpost that included a barn, a corral full of sleeping horses, and three adobe buildings. No lights shone through any of the small windows.

There was a small area between the buildings, facing away from the bunkhouse, that offered a dark corner perfect for hiding. Johnny left Gus there while he checked that the rurales were sleeping and that the office was empty; then he picked the lock to the back door. He sent Gus in and stayed in their hiding place, where he listened and watched for what felt like hours. He occupied his mind by planning how to blow up the entire outpost if they had to. Finally, Gus returned, trembling, with fists full of papers. Johnny cuffed him on the head with a grin, then shoved the paper into his jacket for the walk home.

The sky was beginning to lighten by the time Johnny and Gus got back to Roman's house. Leona and Roman were waiting, of course. Johnny assured them that Augustan had done fine, that no one was the wiser about their thievery, and they should be proud of the young man's efforts to help the revolution. Gus looked down at the floor as Leona gave him a quick hug, and Roman awkwardly shook his hand. Then they sent the boy to bed, and Leona served them coffee before she bustled off to start her day.

Johnny and Roman stayed at the kitchen table, blearily thumbing through the letters. They had no idea what they were looking for, but Johnny had learned long ago that information was power, and he knew they needed all the power they could get against the Patron and the rurales. Most of what they read was routine correspondence from other government agencies, until they unfolded a letter that started with an apology for the delay of an arms shipment from Mexico City, and which went on to say when the guns and ammunition would arrive. The date was just a few days away.

A powerful bit of knowledge, for sure.

"Oho!" Roman crowed. "We're in luck."

Johnny whistled as he took the letter from him and read it. "This is it."

Roman lowered his voice. "Are we going to destroy the shipment?"

Johnny shook his head. "I don't think so. I think we're going to steal it."

Roman looked so shocked Johnny had to laugh. "Well, why not? We can hide it in the barn with the explosives. We'll have more than enough to fight back with then."

He stopped for a moment, trying to picture a way to steal a wagon full of guns and ammunition. "How does freight work around here?" he asked. "How many mules, usually?"

"Usually two. One driver, one guard, two mules, sometimes an outrider. The outrider is usually a rurale."

"Which direction do they come from? Will they pass through Onavas?"

Roman shook his head. "From Mexico City they come from the south."

"Do you know that road?"

"Well enough, I think."

Scratching his chin, Johnny thought more. "I think you and I should take a little ride."

Roman made a face; he didn't like horses.

Johnny laughed and slapped his back. "I'll get you a sweet ol' mule to ride. It'll be fun!"

Part Six

After Johnny took a quick nap, they set out later that morning. The road was broader than Johnny expected, with little cover on either side of it. Occasionally there would be a dry wash on one side of the road or the other. But a few miles out from the hacienda, where the road jogged over a small ridge, there was a hill to the east with a copse of scrubby trees that might give them some cover. Johnny took position there, then asked Roman to ride up and down on the road. Johnny watched so he knew where riders could be seen, or hidden. He sent Roman back and forth several times, and then had him ride over the ridge while Johnny lay in the ditch beside the road to be sure Roman couldn't see him there. Roman was bored and saddle sore by the time Johnny was satisfied.

Once again Johnny found himself at Roman's table, making plans and enjoying Leona's coffee. After he walked the mule and his own horse back to the livery, Johnny stopped at the cantina for some pulque and a meal. He went over his plan while he ate, drawing maps with his finger in the water on the table; then he headed for his pensión.

As he walked east another figure appeared walking west, toward Johnny. He recognized Augustan, probably hurrying home for dinner. Gus stopped in his tracks when he saw Johnny. He turned to the side clutching something to his chest as if trying to hide it.

"Gus!" Gus jumped when Johnny's voice rang out, and he dropped the sack he'd been trying to hide. He scrabbled to pick up the fallen coins before Johnny got to him.

"What the hell is this?" Johnny grabbed Gus by the arm before he could tuck the sack inside his shirt. "Where did you get that money? Who's coming after you for it?" He shook Gus hard. "I promised your mama I'd keep you out of trouble. What's the matter with you? Don't you know you could get killed robbing the rurales? Don't you care what that would do to your mother and father?"

"She's not my mother."

Johnny stared at Gus. "You've got a mother out there somewhere, don't you? What's she gonna do when she hears her son was shot like a thief? And with good reason."

Gus squared his shoulders and made himself as tall as he could. "You made me steal other stuff from them. What difference does it make if we take some money too?"

"The difference is people tend to keep track of their money, and they usually come looking for it if it disappears. Jesus, Gus." Johnny threw Gus's arm away from his grasp. As the boy scrambled to keep from falling to his knees, a gun fell out of his pants pocket.

Gus grabbed for the weapon but Johnny had already stomped his foot on it. He took hold of the boy's shirt collar, pulled him up, and shook him hard.

"Where'd that come from? Did you steal that, too?"

Gus's eyes were huge. "Everyone has a gun. Only the little kids don't. I just want to help…"

Johnny pushed Gus away and picked up the gun. Staring hard at Gus the entire time, he emptied it, put the shells in his pocket and shoved the gun into his belt. He saw the sweat dripping down the kid's face, even as Gus tried to stand up to him.

"I…It was just sitting there when I was looking through the papers."

"Damn it, boy! I promised your folks I'd keep you out of the worst of it. Now you go and do something this stupid…" Johnny spun on his heel away from Augustan. It had been a long time since he'd been this mad at anyone except himself. He looked up to the sky as if for help, then whirled back around, grabbed the boy by the arm again, and squeezed.

Gus whimpered and tried to pull away. Johnny kept a tight hold and dragged him into a nearby alley, jerking the kid beside him until he could shove him against a wall. He saw the fear and pain in the boy's eyes and didn't care.

"You know who I am?"

Augustan kept his chin down and his back against the wall and mumbled, "Yes sir."

"Who am I?"

"You're Johnny Madrid."

"Yeah. I am. And who is Johnny Madrid?"

Gus dared to look up. "You're a gunfighter. A good one."

"Now tell me: what does a gunfighter do? What do I do, Gus?"

Gus stared at him, mouth hanging open. He shook his head a little. He swallowed hard, and then said in a whisper, "Kill people."

Johnny clapped his hands right in front of Gus's nose and sneered, "Give the boy a cigar."

Gus cringed.

"You want to kill people, Gus? 'cause that's the only reason for you to have a gun."

Gus's voice quavered. "You all have guns. You're going to kill the rurales, aren't you? I want to, too."

It took all Johnny had not to backhand the kid right then and there. He glared at Gus, breathing hard, but when he spoke he kept his voice low and soft even as he pointed his trigger finger at the boy's face.

"Listen. Blowing a man's brains out is easy. Press a gun against his head and pull the trigger?" Johnny poked the kid between the eyes. "He just crumples to the ground before you even know what you did."

He took a breath, then yelled, "Bang!" and flicked his fingers into Gus's face. Gus bleated and turned away, crying. Johnny grabbed his chin and forced him to face him.

"You look down at the ground and there's blood around his head. His arms and legs stay where they hit the dirt, and they're not where you expect them to be because you're used to how things fall when there's life in a body. When that life is gone, things look wrong. It's like you fucked with something you had no business fucking with. And you know you're going to pay."

He let go of Gus's face; the boy collapsed, shaking, against the wall.

Dammit! This kid had a family and a future, things Johnny never had and never would, and there was no way he could watch him ruin all that.

"Gus. I just don't want you to have to pay that price. That's all." Johnny stared at the cringing boy and his fury washed away, leaving him feeling spent, and very old.

"Go on. Go home."

Dirt and rocks scattered as Gus tore away without a backward glance. Johnny rubbed his hand over his face and leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, for a long time.

Part Seven

In the secret barn where Johnny had been planning the campaign against the Patron and the rurales, he met with the best marksmen of the group. Luis was a widower with a new grandchild, a carpenter by trade, who had worked on the Patron's estate and knew his way around. Sureme was a Yaqui Indian, tall and square jawed, a farmer known for his ability with a rifle. Roman was there, too, since he'd helped Johnny explore the road. ,

Johnny explained about the shipment of arms coming soon. The men hovered over the table as he drew them a map of the site he'd chosen for their ambush.

"We can hide here," he penciled in a crude tree to show where the small rise was. He used his finger to show the path of the wagon. "As soon as we see the dust on the horizon, Luis, you'll go down and lay in the ditch right there beside the road. They won't be able to see you there until they're nearly on you. Sureme and I will watch until the wagon is just even with the us in the trees. I'll take out the rear outrider, if there is one. At the same time, Sureme, you'll take out the guard riding next to the driver. As soon as we fire, Luis, you jump up out of the ditch and shoot the driver. I'll take care of any other outriders."

The room suddenly felt very still; Johnny stopped to look at the men when he realized they hadn't looked up from the map.

"What's wrong?"

Luis shrugged, but Sureme straightened up to his full height. "You want us to kill these men in cold blood."

Johnny blinked. "I don't think they'll hand over a wagon load of ammunition and rifles just because we ask 'em to." He almost smiled, but the look on the men's faces stopped him.

"Isn't there any other way?" Luis still avoided his eyes.

Johnny's shoulders drooped as he exhaled. "There's a reason they've got guards. They know what they're in for. It's a risk, and they're taking it."

Sureme shook his head. "They're men, like us. They have jobs, families to feed. Killing them outright makes us no better than the rurales."

"Wait, listen to me," Johnny began. He was used to arguing with other pistoleros about the best way to accomplish a job. He believed in being quick and using the element of surprise to his advantage. There was no doubt in his mind that his plan was the best way to get that load with the least amount of risk to him or his compadres.

But these men weren't arguing tactics. Their concerns went deeper—they were arguing morality. Sureme's coolness, his sense of righteousness, stopped Johnny in his tracks.

"Can't argue with you there," he heard himself say.

He said no more, because Sureme was right, and that was a fact. These men weren't gun hawks or low-lifes like the fellows he'd been running with the last few years. These were good folks. This was how normal people thought. Suddenly Johnny felt dirty. Did he take killing so lightly now? Is that what his skill and hard work had done to him?

No wonder he didn't want to live with himself anymore.

"Okay. Forget it."

The three men looked at him, frowning. "Just like that?" Roman asked.

"Just like that." Johnny scrubbed his hands over his face, and added, "You're right. Let me think of something else."

They shuffled their feet, unsure what Johnny's quick change of heart meant. Luis spoke up.
"Senor Madrid, we don't mean to challenge your authority."

He couldn't help sighing deeply. "It's Johnny. And I know, I know." He gave them a tight smile. "Go on. Go back to work. I'll let you know when I've come up with something else."

He walked them to the door, clapped Sureme on the shoulder, and waved goodbye as Luis, and Sureme headed out. Roman stayed behind as Johnny shut the door and sank onto the dirt floor, head in hands, and tried to come up with his next step.

"What happened with you and Augustan?"

"What? Nothing," Johnny said too quickly.

Roman settled down beside him. "He's been doing his chores without any backtalk, except when I asked him to bring you that basket of tortillas Leona made for you. He made his cousin Isidra do it."

Shy Isidra had waited outside the front door at Rosa's pensión until Johnny came out. She handed him a covered basket and said, "For you, from my Tia Leona," so softly he could hardly hear her. When he took the basket she glanced at his face and blushed. When he thanked her, she nodded and nearly fell off the front step. He caught her elbow to help right her and her she blushed even more when she said, "Gracias." Then she skipped down the street.

Johnny smiled at the memory. "Sweet kid."

Roman agreed. "I think she has a crush on you."

"Well, that explains a lot."

"You have no idea why Gus is avoiding you?"

"Nope."

He wasn't going to tell on the boy, or admit his own anger. But he still couldn't meet Roman's eyes.

Time and arms shipments wait for no man. The wagon was coming through today and Johnny was no further in his planning. He'd lain awake most of the last few nights hoping for inspiration but he still didn't have a plan. He rode out that morning alone, picketed his horse to graze on what little grass there was, and lay on his stomach amid the scrawny trees to watch for the shipment.

Just as he'd thought, he saw dust on the horizon before he heard the rumble of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the mules. There were two mules, and no outriders. One man drove the team and another sat beside him with a long gun.

Johnny's plan would have worked just fine. He probably wouldn't even have needed anyone else to fire their guns. He could have taken both the driver and the guard out himself. Still could; but he had taken that option off the table, hadn't he?

Hell, maybe he'd been wrong even earlier, when he said he didn't think they'd give up the shipment if he just asked…

On a whim, with no clear idea of what he was going to do, Johnny grabbed his horse, mounted up, and rode hell bent for leather down the hill to the front of the wagon. Grinning, whooping, and hollering, he waved his hat over his head and slid to a stop just before the mules reared back in their traces to avoid hitting him.

"Hola, friends! You're right on time!"

The driver looked at him slack jawed; the guard already had his rifle pointed at Johnny's chest. Still grinning, Johnny held up his empty hands.

"What do you want?" the driver said.

"I want you to get off that wagon and let me drive it from here."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"Why?"

Johnny pursed his lips as he sat up straight. "Now that's a good question. I guess because I'm asking you all polite like."

He drew his gun and let the smile slide off his face. "And because I got this, and I know how to use it."

The guard took up the smile Johnny dropped and held his rifle a little higher. "I know how to use this one, too, friend."

"Well, now, we got ourselves a real Mexican standoff, don't we?" Johnny grinned. "If I move you shoot me, but if you move I shoot you. Nobody wins. So we just sit here and talk, I guess."

"So talk."

"All right. Here's the deal. I know you're just the hired help delivering this load. I got a real interest in your cargo, and I can put it to better use than the man you're delivering it to."

The driver's eyes narrowed. "What's in it for me?"

"For one thing, I don't shoot you dead."

"You do and Rufus here returns the favor. No, you're going to have to do better than that."

The very fact that the man was still talking, and Rufus hadn't fired, told Johnny these haulers could be bought. Too bad he didn't have anything to buy them with.

How would a normal person do this?

How do nice people steal guns?

"Like I said, you're just the hired help. You married? Got any kids?"

Neither man answered. Johnny plunged on. "The Patron you're delivering to has been stealing kids from their parents over there in Onavas. He won't even let them visit. I'm trying to get those kids back where they belong. These rifles and bullets might be enough for us to convince Don Cordero to let the kids go home, and to stop stealing them."

It took everything Johnny had to just sit there and wait. But he had nothing else to say, nothing to bargain with. Here he was, Johnny Madrid, famed pistolero, trying to get a job done without firing a shot. Wouldn't that get a laugh out of the likes of ol' Isham or some of his other gun buddies?

And then it happened. Rufus put up his rifle and turned to the driver. "I got kids."

That's all he said.

The driver looked at Rufus, then back at Johnny. "Me, too. Don't reckon I want to help anybody out who takes people's kids away from them."

Johnny couldn't help but grin. "Okay then. Follow me. We've got a place to hide the wagon, and I'll buy you dinner in Onavas. And then we'll figure out a story to tell your boss about how you got waylaid by Johnny Madrid and his gang…"

That night, while the teamsters made their plans for the return trip to Mexico City, Johnny sat with them, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Part Eight

When the first Monday of the month rolled around again, Don Cordero's Segundo Castillo drove his wagon to the front of the mercantile. But this day the shopkeeper didn't come running out to take his list. Castillo waited, looking from side to side, but when no one showed up he jumped from the seat and strode in to the mercantile, stomping his feet.

No one appeared. He shouted into the store, but no one answered.

Castillo stepped back outside. He stood in the middle of the road, planted his hands on his hips, and glared up and down the dusty street. No one was there.

He went down to the cantina; it was closed and locked. He pounded on the door, yelling. No one came.

Castillo turned back to the empty street; he heard something coming from a nearby alley. It sounded like the amused laughter of a happy man.

Johnny knew Castillo could hear him laughing as he walked to the street from a nearby alley. He clapped his gloved hands as he approached the angry Segundo.

"Senor Castillo! We haven't been introduced. I'm Johnny Madrid. Onavas is now under my protection. Maybe you heard."

Castillo glared at Johnny as he strolled closer. "I heard. Where is everyone?"

Johnny looked around. "Not here. You were expecting someone?"

"It's tax day."

"Ah. Nope, still don't see anybody." Now Johnny was just a few feet away from Castillo; close enough to see the tightness in the man's face, the whiteness of his lips.

"Madrid, I don't know what you're playing at, but Don Cordero expects his accounts settled today."

Johnny leaned back a little, hands on his hips. "I'm not playing at anything. And I don't have any accounts with Don Cordero."

"Not you. Everyone else."

"Is that a fact?" Johnny cocked his head. "The way I heard it, the farmers do all the work and Don Cordero takes all the crops. I heard he doesn't pay them what he promised them. I heard he takes advantage of the good people of Onavas and overcharges them for their taxes and supplies." He smiled his working smile and leaned in. "I mean, that's just what I heard."

Castillo bristled. "He allows them to grow their crops on his land, but he expects them to hold up their end of the bargain."

"Yeah? Well, what's his end of the bargain?"

Castillo spit on the ground before he shouted down the street. "Men of Onavas! Come out! I am the representative of Don Cordero, your Patron, and he expects his accounts settled today!"

Johnny waited with him. No one answered. No one appeared.

Castillo cursed and turned to climb back into his wagon. Johnny blocked his way, resting his hand on his Colt. He wasn't smiling now. "Tell Don Cordero this. The people of Onavas are done with his cheating. They want to be paid for their work. And they want their children home where they belong."

Castillo clambered around him, took up the lines and moved the mule forward until he had room to turn around. Without another glance at Johnny, he whipped the mule and hurried out of town.

Two hours later Johnny met with the men in the secret barn. The highjacked firearms had been distributed to the citizens of Onavas before the teamsters left. There was no turning back now.

The plan was simple and daring. Johnny would go, alone, to the main house and demand the return of the girls. At the same time Roman and Sureme would light a small fire in a dry field visible from the house to lure Don Cordero's workers away from the house to fight it. The rurales who weren't out riding patrols would undoubtedly leave their compound to help. Once they did so Julio, Luis, and Chus would set explosives around their buildings and light them on fire, too.

Johnny didn't expect to be successful at getting the girls just by asking, but given his recent luck with the shipment of arms, he decided to give it a try. If it failed, and he figured it would, he would sneak back to the big house in the confusion of the fires, attract the girls' attention, and spirit them out.

Johnny's part of the plan was the most important, and the riskiest. The girls didn't know Johnny and would have no reason to trust him. He was afraid he would waste valuable time convincing them to come with him willingly. Their fathers wanted to come with him, but Johnny knew they would be too much of a liability. They were discussing whether he could carry something from their families to reassure the girls when there was a tentative knock on the door of the barn.

Everyone froze. Roman carefully opened the back door and peered to the front. He looked back at the men in the barn with a sheepish smile before he went around to open the front door.

Gus shuffled in, head bowed, peeking up at the men through his long dark hair.

"What's he doing here?" Johnny demanded.

"Uh…I have an idea about helping to rescue the girls," the boy stammered, looking everywhere except at Johnny. "I know that's what you're doing. I, I mean…see, there's a way no one knows about…I mean, I know a secret way to the hacienda. I could sneak up there, find Elena or one of the others, and tell them the plan so they could be ready when someone goes there to bring them home."

Roman looked at his son with a frown. "How do you know of a secret way?"

Gus looked at the floor. "Well, I kinda…I was…I mean, I found it before with Elena, before she went to work there. I mean, we were just talking, and walking, and that's where we ended up. No one saw us."

"Elena is one of the girls we're getting out?" Johnny asked.

Gus nodded. "And Gabby and Sofia."

There was silence in the barn while Johnny thought it over. It seemed pretty unlikely that no one but these kids knew of a secret pathway to the big house. Still, a kid on the path wouldn't necessarily give them away, if anyone saw Gus.

"Roman? Are you all right with this idea?" Johnny asked.

After staring at his son for several uncomfortable seconds, Roman nodded. "It makes sense to me."

"Will your wife be okay with it?"

Augustan looked up, red faced. "It was her idea."

A few men chuckled. Johnny nodded. "Okay, I'll include you in the plan. Don't go doing anything before we're all ready. I'll make the plan and we'll all go over it together so everyone knows what everyone else is doing. No exceptions. Everybody follows the plan. Got it?"

Gus nodded.

"Good. We'll all meet here in the morning."

Gus bolted, but the other men left quietly. They knew what was coming.

Part Nine

That night, following Johnny's instructions, Augustan snuck to the hacienda on the secret path to deliver the message to the girls. No one saw him, he told his father with certainty, and he was sure the girls would be ready for Johnny to rescue them tomorrow.

The next day Johnny rode alone to the house belonging to Don Cordero. On the way he passed vaqueros who watched him but didn't try to stop him. There were two rurales who noticed him as he passed their outpost; they mounted up and followed him. Morales was one of them.

Johnny reined his horse in under a portico covered with fragrant flowers, carefully tended to provide shade to the front entryway. He dismounted, and immediately a peon walked up to take care of his horse. Johnny knocked on the front door. It swung open to reveal a well-dressed butler who bowed and waved him inside. "How may I help you, Senor…?"

Trying not to be intimidated by the thick rugs on the floors, the artwork on the walls, and the silver candlesticks on every flat surface, Johnny said, "I'm Johnny Madrid. I'd like to talk to Don Cordero."

"The Don is not here."

"Okay, Segundo Castillo, then."

"The Segundo is also not here. Is there any way I can be of service?"

"Yeah. You can go to wherever they're hiding and tell them the people of Onavas want their kids back."

The butler drew himself taller. "Don Cordero does not 'hide'. He is away."

Johnny huffed out a laugh. "Then I'd like to talk to the girls from Onavas."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" Johnny took a moment to look around; then he put his lips against his teeth and whistled shrilly. The butler flinched at the sound and Johnny shouted, "Elena! Sofia! Gabby!"

The butler tackled him around the waist, forcing him back toward the door, but over the man's shoulder Johnny saw a girl peeking in from another room. "Are you Elena?" he shouted. "Are you okay?"

She said nothing, but her huge eyes filled with tears. She looked fearfully at someone beside her, then disappeared from his sight.

Another man in a butler's uniform showed up to help haul Johnny through the door. Morales was just outside. He nodded the butlers away and slammed his fist into Johnny's chin. The blow knocked him sideways.

Johnny struggled to his feet and stood shakily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, relieved there was only a little blood. He tongued his teeth, and they all were in place. Finally he looked at Morales.

"You tell your boss those kids have to be back with their families tonight."

Morales smirked. "And if they aren't?"

Johnny smiled. He saw the man with his horse and walked over, trying not to weave. He mounted with more grace than he would have if no one was watching, given the ache in his head. He turned the horse and said to Morales, "You'll see."

The dry field caught fire easily. It was close enough to get attention, but far enough away from the hacienda that it would take some time for the Patron's men and the rurales to get there. While Roman and Sureme set the fire, Johnny high tailed it back to the secret barn where Luis, Chus, and Julio were waiting with a loaded wagon hitched to a mule. It was full of black powder, dynamite, and some chemicals Julio assured them would blow up when exposed to flames. Two saddled horses were tied to the back. Each man was armed with multiple weapons—Johnny had his Colt, the gun Gus had stolen from the rurales' office, a derringer in a secret pocket in his trousers, and a knife in each boot.

They didn't pass any of the Don's men on their trip to the rurales' compound. Johnny hoped it was because they were all fighting the fire in the field.

As Luis, Chu, and Julio spread the oil and kerosene and prepared to blow up the outpost, Johnny rode one saddle horse and led the other on Gus's secret trail. He was thinking that this was going way too easy when the trail spit him out in the back of the hacienda.

Two rurales waited in the yard, Augustan between them. His hands were tied behind his back and his nose dripped blood. He saw Johnny and looked away as Morales strolled out of the hacienda, sneering.

There was no sign of the girls. Johnny swore under his breath and directed his attention to Gus.

"How come every time I try to get something done you're there gettin' in my way?"

As he yelled at Gus, he dropped the lead rope of the horse he was leading and spurred the one he was riding straight into one of the rurales. Morales shouted as that man hit the dirt and the other staggered back. Gus somehow stayed on his feet, and Johnny reached out and hooked his arm through the boy's bound arms. He wrenched Gus up in front of him, over the pommel, face down, and he grabbed the seat of the boy's pants to hold him on. He wheeled the horse to run over the rurales again and then sped off as fast as the overloaded horse could run.

He heard gunfire behind him and wanted to zigzag to avoid bullets, but Gus's balance was too chancy; he could barely hold him. Johnny kept the horse on a direct path to the rurales' compound and somehow Gus stayed on, blood pouring from his nose. Johnny lost his grip and Gus finally fell off when they were in sight of the buildings.

Only one of them was on fire. Johnny swore again: the compound was surrounded by rurales. Luis, Chus, and Julio were already in chains, battered and bruised. Peons were fighting the fire with blankets and buckets of water from a nearby well. A rurale grabbed Augustan before he could get to his feet and dragged him to join the others.

Johnny, still mounted, knew this was the only chance he was going to get. He turned his tired horse around and tore back toward the big house. This time he could take evasive action and he took full advantage of that. Most of the Don's men were fighting the fires, and only a few rurales were left to guard the house. Miraculously he found the girls huddled together just outside the back door when he galloped up. He threw himself off the horse, hoisted the girls on it, and turned them to the no-longer-secret path.

"The horse knows the way back home," he told them. "Go as fast as you can."

They tottered along, nearly pulling each other off as the horse gathered speed, but they all stayed on as far as Johnny could tell. He could only pray they made it back to Onavas while he gave them the best covering fire he could.

He was surrounded by rurales, but he found a tree to stand behind. He aimed and fired methodically; when he had to reload he did so deliberately and calmly. He continued to fire until Morales came up behind him on his lanky roan while he was reloading. Morales aimed a gun at Johnny's head and ordered him to drop his weapons.

He did. Instantly the rurales swarmed over him, wrenching his arms behind him and tying them tightly. Morales dismounted and stood eye to eye with Johnny.

"Where's your protection now, Madrid?" he jeered, just before he punched him in the gut. As Johnny doubled over Morales brought up his knee into Johnny's jaw. The blows were too much, and Johnny gave in to the darkness.

He woke up vomiting. His hands were still tied behind him, and it was nearly impossible for him to move away from his mess. He was cold, and he hurt everywhere, especially his head. Tears ran down his face and there was nothing he could do about it.

Voices edged into his consciousness, but he didn't know who they belonged to. "Johnny, can you wake up?" "Johnny, can you move?" He wondered, too, if he could wake up or move, but decided he couldn't.

He was colder later, when someone tossed cold water in his face. He coughed and sputtered to the sound of laughter, and heavy boots leaving and the familiar sound of a key turning in a lock.

He was in a cell, on a dirt floor. He saw other legs and feet so he knew he wasn't alone; he recognized the voices of Julio and Augustan. "Wake up, Johnny." "Please, don't die."

Some nerve, asking him not to die. Wasn't that the whole point of this fiasco? He damn well intended to die, and this was as good a time as any.

Except he couldn't help wondering if the girls got home all right. He supposed he could stop dying for a minute to ask.

Somehow he rolled to his knees. He managed to look up at Julio and Gus, and saw Chus and Luis there, too. Their bruised faces smiled when they saw Johnny awake.

"The girls?" Johnny croaked.

The smiles faded. "Gus told us…"

Gus's voice sounded tearful. "I'm sorry. I snuck up there again. I know you told me not to. But I thought I could help lead them home. The rurales were waiting for me…I screwed up. I'm sorry."

Johnny coughed. "I went back."

Luis understood right away. "You went back? Ah, so that's where you disappeared to. Did you see them?"

"Got 'em…horse…"

"You got them on horses? You got the girls on horses? Did they escape?"

"Hope so." Johnny went back to trying to die.

Later, somehow, Leona was there, tending to him. There was a pillow under his head, and she was wiping his face with a lavender scented cloth. When he tried to sit up Leona pushed him back. "Stay down," she said in a low voice. "You are not badly hurt, but you need to stay quiet."

It suddenly came back to him. "The girls?"

"They're home." She whispered it. "So is Augustan. They let him go."

He thought he was supposed to be glad to hear it, but he couldn't really feel anything right now. "Where is everybody?"

Leona pursed her lips and cast her eyes to the side, and Johnny realized he was under guard. He wasn't sure where he was—the rurales' bunkhouse? It smelled like smoke …on a cot, with his legs and his right arm chained to the frame. He saw Morales at a table nearby, eating with several other rurales.

Morales saw him looking, and held up a gun. It was the gun Gus had stolen.

"This is my gun, Madrid. I'm happy to see it again. Now I wonder, where is my money bag?"

Johnny stayed quiet. It was easy, since he was pretty sure he would throw up if he tried to talk any more. He had to listen while Morales told him about the items missing from the office; about a telegram from Mexico City warning that Johnny Madrid and his gang had stolen an arms shipment; about a boy who dared to talk to Don Cordero's maids; and about how that boy came back that morning, giving Morales the perfect opportunity to trap Johnny Madrid and bring an end to this pathetic attempt at revolution.

"We will make an example of you," Morales promised.

It was all a sham, and hopeless from the beginning.

It was over, and it was a failure.

Well, he'd known it going in, hadn't he? That's why he took this cause—to fail. He intended to fail, and he did. He intended to die, and he would.

So why did he feel so bad about it?

Part Ten

The rurales forced the prisoners to walk to Tonichi, where the Federales had a facility that would house them until their trial and execution—even though everybody knew there wasn't going to be a trial.

The facility in Tonichi was nothing more than an outdoor cage next to the office of the Federales. There was a barrel of brackish water with a single tin cup floating in it. A worn canvas tarp lay on the top wires covering a third of the cage, providing a scant square of shade. Two buckets served as privies. Prisoners slept on the bare ground. Besides the revolutionaries, as Johnny and his compadres were mockingly known, there were three other prisoners, being held for reasons unknown. There were two guards at any time, although they didn't watch very closely and sometimes fell asleep.

The Federales didn't feed them. The prisoners relied on the kindness of their own families or the townspeople. Some had money for meals. There was room between the bars and fencing for small packets of food to be passed, along with other necessities if the prisoner was lucky. Of course, the guards had to paid off or fed, too. If the bribe was big enough, they would open the gate a touch, to let in bigger parcels and baskets of food.

The first day Johnny, Julio, Luis, and Chus went hungry because they had no money or cigarettes to barter with. Another prisoner gave each of them a small bite of his food, but warned them not to expect that again.

The second day Augustan showed up driving a donkey cart filled with baskets of food. Leona and her sister Lucia walked along beside him. All the prisoners, not just the revolutionaries, were served a meal that Johnny knew the women could ill afford. Their effort touched him.

Johnny took one small tamale; he stood alone in a back corner to eat it. It tasted like ashes as his failure overwhelmed him. When Leona sought him out he wished she hadn't. She reached through a small opening of the cage and touched his arm.

"Johnny, the girls are home and well. Augustan is a different boy—it was his idea to come here and feed you all today. We have you to thank for this."

He shook his head. "I'm glad the kids are okay. But I don't deserve any of your thanks. I really fu…I mean, I really messed this up." He didn't tell her his intention to die, but he really did feel bad about not making things better for the people of Onavas.

She waved away his words. "We asked for your help, and you did your best. Did you know Augustan told us what he did?"

"What did he do?"

"He stole money and a gun from the rurales. He told us you knew it." Leona frowned.

Johnny wasn't very proud of his reaction that day. He said nothing as Leona continued.

"He thought you would have told us. We were all surprised that you hadn't. Roman was angry at first. But he decided you knew what you were doing."

"Huh." As if he ever knew what he was doing…

Leona smiled a little. "I'm proud of the boy for telling us."

They stood in the hot sun for another minute or so, until Johnny had to ask. "Is Roman still mad at me? He's not here."

"We decided not to poke the bear. He wasn't sure he would be safe, you see. We don't know if the rurales knew who set the fire in the field, and he thought he should lay low."

Johnny nodded. It made sense. Although it had occurred to him that the Patron and the rurales would probably leave the farmers alone. They needed them to coax the fields to grow; otherwise, the entire hacienda would suffer. Of the revolutionaries in jail with him, only Julio was a farmer. And Julio wasn't the most industrious man in town. He was probably the least liked man in Onavas.

"Tell Roman I'm sorry it didn't work out better."

Leona looked at him sadly. "Johnny, it worked out fine. We tried, and we can be proud of our efforts. And you are part of our family now. Our lives are better for having known you. I know your heart now." Her face clouded as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry…I don't know what to do or say. But I can tell you another reason Roman isn't here. He doesn't want to see you caged."

She turned away and hurried back to the wagon; Johnny wiped the tears from his own eyes.

Leona stayed in Tonichi, working at a cantina where she cooked and served and cleaned. She slept in a storeroom and was allowed to take leftovers to the prisoners.

Johnny couldn't understand why she did this, and it made him mad. "Doesn't your family need you?"

It seemed her smile was always sad now. "You are family, too, Johnny, and the others are almost family. Lucia is cooking for everyone back home, and Isidra and Augustan are helping look after the children."

"You belong there. Go home."

Tears joined her sad smile. "Right now you need me more."

That did it. He kicked dirt toward her through the fence and shouted, "No, I don't. Don't do this to me, Leona. Go home where you belong. Leave me alone." He turned away from her and faced the other side of the cage. The last thing he wanted right now was her sympathy. She should be angry. Why wasn't she angry? Why was she treating him so well?

Leona walked away, but she stayed in Tonichi and made sure the revolutionaries had food.

Two days later a wagon rumbled in from Onavas, driven by Juan Robles and carrying all of Leona's family except Roman.

The other prisoners were glad to see them, but Johnny stayed at the other end of the enclosure, his back turned. Juan and Isidra gave small packets of food to everyone so they could all eat together. After they were done, Isidra looked for Johnny. She came up to him tentatively.

"Senor Madrid, I made this myself. For you."

Reluctantly he looked at her, and reached out for the small packet. At the same time Leona's boys saw them and bounded up, shouting "Hola Johnny!" and despite himself he smiled and waved at them. He opened the wrapper and found a single tortilla. "I made it myself," Isidra repeated. "I hope it tastes good."

He took a bite, and smiled at her. "It's good," he said, and she blushed. Alexis and Angel were staring at Johnny like he was an animal in a zoo, so he chewed away at the tortilla just to have something to do. He was relieved when Leona came up and shooed the children away.

"Roman sends his best to you. And he sent some money so the cantina will give you food while you are here."

Johnny opened his mouth to apologize for yelling at her, but she stopped him. "I know you are angry and scared, Johnny. It's all right. No one knows quite how to…how to deal with this."

She reached through the bars and squeezed his hand; he squeezed back.

"I will go back to Onavas now, but we will always pray for you. We will never forget you." Before she could walk away little Leica ran to her and handed her a small bag. When Leona looked inside Leica pointed to Johnny with a big smile. There was a peppermint stick inside, and Leica grabbed it and handed it to Johnny through the bars.

He said, "Thank you, Princess Leica," when he took it from her. As Leona and her daughter left for the last time he put the candy in his mouth.

It tasted bright and innocent.

They learned they would be killed the next morning. Julio, Luis, and Chus talked long into the night about the women they loved and the children they regretted they wouldn't see grow up. Johnny leaned against the fence nearby and listened. He felt nothing. They talked about the good times they'd had, the trials and struggles. They tried to include him in the conversation, but he had nothing to say. In the end they told him dying for a cause was the noblest death of all. They thanked him for his efforts. He nodded gravely.

They finally talked themselves out, and lay on the ground to sleep. Johnny stayed where he was, squatting with his back against the cage, watching them.

Something flickered in his heart that night, listening to the men talk about their lives. The good people of Onavas had shown him something he had once known, but had forgotten. The love he got from his mama and his papa came back to him. The respect he'd learned from Renaldo and other old men who had seen much of life, and cherished it, came back, too.

These people loved him; they cared for him. They knew him, and they didn't think he was a monster.

He'd taken this job for the sheer hopelessness of it, tired of everything he'd thought he wanted, once he got it. Death was preferable to the darkness he fought every day.

But the people of Onavas showed him the darkness he carried in him wasn't part of his soul. It was instead a reflection of the world in which he lived. He could live in a brighter world, if he wanted to.

Now, on the night before his life would end, he faced his ultimate fuck up. He had thought he wanted to die, but that wasn't it. He wanted to escape the darkness; what he really wanted was to belong. To be a part of something greater than himself. To matter to other people.

His hard work and skill had betrayed him. He wanted to be a gunfighter, and so he was. He wanted to be the best, and so he was. He wanted to die on this job, and so he would.

He'd figured it out too late.

Epilogue

In the morning the rurales tied the revolutionaries' hands behind them with coarse sisal rope. They marched them to a wall on the outskirts of Tonichi, pushed them against it, and blindfolded them.

It all happened so quickly Johnny didn't have time to feel anything, except to be glad that no one from Onavas was there.

Morales barely allowed the rurales who tied the blindfolds time to move back before he yelled, "Ready. Aim. Fire."

Johnny jumped at the sound of gunfire and waited for a bullet that never came.

The sound of laughter came to his ears; someone pulled the blindfold down. He looked at his compadres; Luis was on the ground, but the others looked as pale and confused as he felt.

The bastards had fired into the air. Luis wasn't hit; he just collapsed because he thought he would be.

The rurales left Luis on the ground and pushed Johnny, Chus, and Julio onto the street out of town. There was plenty of time to be scared now, stumbling down the hot road. The rurales were mounted, of course; they surrounded the revolutionaries and taunted them. Morales rode up with a sombrero and plopped it onto Johnny's head.

"Here, Johnny Madrid. You must stay out of the sun, my half breed gringo friend, or you may end up with your brains fried. Oh, wait! It won't matter in the end, will it? They will be sure to fry after I shoot them out of your head."

Julio sassed the rurales right back, shouting, "Viva la revolución!" at the top of his lungs. Chus and Johnny kept their heads down, trudging among the horses, exhausted and hopeless.

They walked for a long time until they reached a field. When Johnny saw the site he realized they would be shot on a hillside so their bodies would roll down the hill into a freshly dug mass grave.

They were walked halfway up the hill before they were stopped. Morales stood in front of them, chomping on a big cigar, smiling as if having the time of his life. He forced each man to his knees, then joined the firing line at the bottom of the hill.

Julio yelled, "Viva la revolución!" again. Morales motioned at him. A rurale darted up and blindfolded him before leading him to the execution site. Julio was shouting , "Vive le revo…" when the rurales fired. Johnny shuddered at the sound and finished Julio's call: "…lución." As Chus looked over at Julio's body Johnny remembered his talk with Gus about bodies falling with no life in them.

And his would be next. Holy Mary Mother of God he was scared. But he refused the blindfold, and he managed to get rid of the damned sombrero so Morales would be able to see his face as he died. He intended to glare at the son of a bitch all the contempt he could muster.

He hoped his legs would hold him.

He hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

He had just gotten to his feet when a buckboard driven by a gringo came barreling over the rise. After that things got unreal and fuzzy.

"Your father wants to see you."

Father? But Papa had been dead for many years.

Wait. "Lancer?" Johnny Madrid spoke the name for the first time. He knew he was addled from the heat, but what did Lancer have to do with him? Why was this sweaty Pinkerton agent with a fat wallet buying his freedom?

"Willing to give you a thousand dollars for an hour of your time."

A thousand dollars? That didn't make sense. Nothing made sense until out of the corner of his eye Johnny saw Morales grinning and the firing squad taking aim. He didn't have to make sense of anything then. All he had to do was react. He bowled the gringo to the ground with his own body and rolled back, firing the gun he took from the guy's holster without even knowing it. He shot his way out of there, hefted Chus into the Pink's wagon, and galloped away on a rurale's horse.

He was pretty sure he'd shot every man in the firing squad, and he was dead sure he used his last bullet to take out Morales. As much as he hated being unarmed, it was worth that last shot to get that sonuvabitch.

And most amazing of all, he was alive. Sure, he shot his way out of there, but they were gonna shoot him first, so that made it all right. He'd won that chance to do what he'd just figured out. He could leave the darkness behind and find a place to belong…thanks to the people of Onavas.

And that Pinkerton agent.

And Murdoch Lancer.

Huh.

Wonder what Mama would've said about that.

The End