Lone Ranger Chapter 22

22.

Lance woke up to a dark chamber but he was not shackled. He felt empty inside him. He rubbed his body and felt the differences. His body was not the same. It was raw and painful. He pulled his shirt and saw the removal of his inklings. All of it was gone.

His protection spells.

The chamber door opened. It was not by the walls but on the ceiling.

Lance was in a pit.

The parcel was tossed down. He reached for it and saw it contained food and medicine. So his captors may be ruthless but also merciful. He took the food and medicine. Then he rested on his side.

The Lone Ranger was defeated.

Lance was surprised that the pit door was opened once more. He was fed and yet they come. It must be to torture then. He pulled himself up and looked up. He saw then the body falling and landing lifeless. It was one of his captors. He looked up and saw the rope ladder was lowered. Without hesitation, Lance took to his escape from the pit. He climbed over the edge and saw the person assisting him.

“Mr. Smith?”

“In the flesh.” The other replied and handed over the gun belt. “It’s not silver but it kills. We need to go before your escape is made known.”

“Where am I?” Lance asked.

“In prison.” Mr. Smith replied The prison was in an abandoned mine with a number of tunnels dug. Lance counted five of such shafts with a depth of thirty feet. He crouched there and looked to the surrounding. He was in the far yard surrounded by the high wall and within it was the derelict structures. He counted three buildings and the large barn with the corral. Part of the walls behind the structures had collapsed but the sentries were seen there. There was one other structure further apart and it was guarded. Mr. Smith tugged at Lance’s sleeves to run towards the wall. The run was short and soon they were at the hole which could give them freedom.

“Follow me.” Mr. Smith led the way. They crawled through and ran into the trees and then up the hill down the valley. They reached the horses and rode off.

“How far was I from the train?” Lance asked when they had rested by the stream. Mr. Smith had built a campfire while Lance eased his aches seated on the branch there. He was handed a gun with the holster. He checked the bullets. He had six in the gun and ten on the belt. The place was well hidden by the trees and it was vantage view of the path on any approaching riders. During their ride, they have been checking their rear.

“Far but not too far. We are a day’s ride.” Mr. Smith replied. “I followed the train and enquired on the ride. They told me of the stops and then the one they saw you get carried away. I followed and here I am.”

Lance stood up to look at the horses.

“How many days have I lost of their trail?”

“Five days.” Mr. Smith told him. “I have contacted the Pinkerton. The train did not go to DC. They went north and then west.”

“West? Why there?” Lance asked. “I thought the plan was to take DC. The Sergeant said so.”

“It may be but the train headed west towards the new frontier.” Mr. Smith continued on. “We have news of an Army there. Mercenaries and regulars there were unhappy with their President. The Mexicans are with them too with promises of their land. All of them are well paid by gold coins.”

“What does the President do with the new threat?” Lance asked. 

“The President is more concerned now on the re-election of his post. He had sent the Army but they have proven useless except to patrol the borders.” Mr. Smith stroked the woods he had placed in the fireplace. “Forget them. You need to rest. We will travel tomorrow. Be thankful I found you.”

“How did you find me?” Lance looked to the elder man.

“I did not find you but the Pinkerton did. I had lost hope with the destruction of the town. I took to help the wounded and buried the dead. It was then a Pinkerton Agent approached me. He was unlike any of us but he was one.” Mr. Smith pulled a smile on his face. “I had given up and there was this elderly Spaniard who resumed my faith in the Pinkerton.”

“They were one of the secret sections. They were the Occult Hunters. They were led by one named Father Tibur and he resides at DC. He even gives the sermon at the church there.” Mr. Smith left out a chuckle. The Spaniard had lent me strength and direction to find you.”

“I am thankful for your renewed hope. I hope I could only do what you may bid of me.” Lance sighed. He felt the loss of his inklings. They were with him for the betterment of his role and then he felt naked without it. Lance could not sleep that night for he was concerned about his inklings. He was unprotected by the spells and without his silver guns. He tossed and then woke up. He then sat up and looked at the stream. It was calming there with the water flow and so he made his way there. He stepped into the stream until his knees were covered. He lowered himself into the water and felt the cold water soothed his aches. He felt the pores on his flesh touched then by the water which had seeped through his clothes. The water washed the wounds there and enriched the muscles. He lay back until he was on his back. He submerged his head into the water and closed his eyes. He saw nothing but the darkness behind the eyelids. He held his breath and left his mind to wander. It was like when he was on the plains among the lions and the cheetahs. He saw their strength and speed when they hunt, and when they sleep, their rest was alert to other predators.

Then Lance saw the elders once more. The circle was still there. The elders were lined at the circle border. None spoke to him and yet he approached them. He picked the nearest one but there was no response. He looked to the face and saw there was none. Their facial was blank without the eyes and mouth nor nose. He looked away and looked into the circle. He saw there the image of himself when he was first there. He saw the naked form of his own body when the inklings were applied to him. He saw the inklings move when applied. He then saw the inkling seeped into his flesh before it resurfaced and disappeared inside. It did that several times and finally stopped to remain on the skin.

Lance then found himself breathless. He pushed himself up to draw his breath. He found a hand extended to him which he held to pull up.

“Lance, are you mad?” It was Mr. Smith who had dragged him up. “I came to release myself and find you there. And you are wet. You will die with the cold on your skin.”

Lance shook his head and then made his way to the far banks. He stepped up and then he raised his arms.

“I am a hunter. I am the Lone Ranger.” Lance shouted to the dark skies. “I am not without a weapon. I am the weapon.”

Lance stripped off his shirt. The pale skins of his gleamed in the moonlight with the wounds streaking across like red lave streams. He flexed his chest and then the wounds went pale while the original inklings soon appeared on the flesh as if it was never was taken off. He placed his palms on his face and cried out.

“The spells lived inside me.” Around his eyes were the dark shades that resembled the face mask as if he was under the shadows.