But he didn’t get off another shot. He had barely lined up the sights on one of the jeeps when the bow slammed into him before he touched the trigger. He was thrown back violently and the bow must have sprung of its own volition, for he saw a fire-bolt arch into the sky. Then his head struck a rock and he was knocked unconscious.
II
He came round to find Benedetta bathing his head, looking worried. Beyond, he saw Forester talking animatedly to Willis and beyond them the sky, disfigured by a coil of black, greasy smoke. He put his hand to his head and winced. ‘What the hell hit me?’
‘Hush,’ said Benedetta. ‘Don’t move.’
He grinned weakly and lifted himself up on his elbow. Forester saw that he was moving. ‘Are you all right, Tim?’
‘I don’t know,’ said O’Hara. ‘I don’t think so.’ His head ached abominably. ‘What happened?’
Willis lifted the crossbow. ‘A rifle bullet hit this,’ he said. ‘It smashed the stirrup – you were lucky it didn’t hit you. You batted your head against a rock and passed out.’
O’Hara smiled painfully at Benedetta. ‘I’m all right,’ he said and sat up. ‘Did we do the job?’
Forester laughed delightedly. ‘Did we do the job? Oh, boy!’ He knelt down next to O’Hara. ‘To begin with, Rohde actually hit his man on the bridge when he shot – plugged him neatly through the shoulder. That caused all the commotion we needed. Jenny Ponsky had a goddam tricky time with that guy in front of the gas tank, but she did her job in the end. She was shaking like a leaf when she gave me the bow.’
‘What about the truck?’ asked O’Hara. ‘I saw it catch fire – that’s about the last thing I did see.’
‘The truck’s gone,’ said Forester. ‘It’s still burning – and the jeep next to it caught fire when the second gas tank on the other side of the truck blew up. Hell, they were running about like ants across there.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Both the men who were by the truck were killed. The Indian ran plumb over the edge of the gorge – I reckon he was blinded – and the other guy was burned to a crisp. Jenny didn’t see it and I didn’t tell her.’
O’Hara nodded; it would be a nasty thing for her to live with.
‘That’s about it,’ said Forester. ‘They’ve lost all their timber – it burned with the truck. They’ve lost the truck and a jeep and they’ve abandoned the jeep by the bridge – they couldn’t get it back past the burning truck. All the other vehicles they’ve withdrawn a hell of a long way down the road where it turns away from the gorge. I’d say it’s a good half-mile. They were hopping mad, judging by the way they opened up on us. They set up the damnedest barrage of rifle fire – they must have all the ammunition in the world.’
‘Anybody hurt?’ demanded O’Hara.
‘You’re our most serious casualty – no one else got a scratch.’
‘I must bandage your head, Tim,’ said Benedetta.
‘We’ll go up to the pond,’ said O’Hara.
As he got to his feet Aguillar approached. ‘You did well, Señor O’Hara,’ he said.
O’Hara swayed and leaned on Forester for support. ‘Well enough, but they won’t fall for that trick again. All we’ve bought is time.’ His voice was sober.
‘Time is what we need,’ said Forester. ‘Earlier this morning I wouldn’t have given two cents for our scheme to cross the mountains. But now Rohde and I can leave with an easy conscience.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’d better get on the road.’
Miss Ponsky came up. ‘Are you all right, Mr O’Hara – Tim?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘You did all right, Jenny.’
She blushed. ‘Why – thank you, Tim. But I had a dreadful moment. I really thought I’d have to shoot that man by the truck.’
O’Hara looked at Forester and grinned weakly and Forester suppressed a macabre laugh. ‘You did just what you were supposed to do,’ said O’Hara, ‘and you did it very well.’ He looked around. ‘Willis, you stay down here – get the gun from Rohde and if anything happens fire the last bullet. But I don’t think anything will happen – not yet a while. The rest of us will have a war council up by the pond. I’d like to do that before Ray goes off.’
‘Okay,’ said Forester.
They went up to the pond and O’Hara walked over to the water’s edge. Before he took a cupped handful of water he caught sight of his own reflection and grimaced distastefully. He was unshaven and very dirty, his face blackened by smoke and dried blood and his eyes red-rimmed and sore from the heat of the fire-bolts. My God, I look like a tramp, he thought.
He dashed cold water at his face and shivered violently, then turned to find Benedetta behind him, a strip of cloth in her hands. ‘Your head,’ she said. ‘The skin was broken.’
He put a hand to the back of his head and felt the stickiness of drying blood. ‘Hell, I must have hit hard,’ he said.
‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Let me see to it.’
Her fingers were cool on his temples as she washed the wound and bandaged his head. He rubbed his hand raspingly over his cheek; Armstrong is always clean-shaven, he thought; I must find out how he does it.
Benedetta tied a neat little knot and said, ‘You must take it easy today, Tim. I think you are concussed a little.’
He nodded, then winced as a sharp pain stabbed through his head. ‘I think you’re right. But as for taking it easy – that isn’t up to me; that’s up to the boys on the other side of the river. Let’s get back to the others.’
Forester rose up as they approached. ‘Miguel thinks we should get going,’ he said.
‘In a moment,’ said O’Hara. ‘There are a few things I want to find out.’ He turned to Rohde. ‘You’ll be spending a day at the camp and a day at the mine. That’s two days used up. Is this lost time necessary?’
‘It is necessary and barely enough,’ said Rohde. ‘It should be longer.’
‘You’re the expert on mountains,’ said O’Hara. ‘I’ll take your word for it. How long to get across?’
‘Two days,’ said Rohde positively. ‘If we have to take longer we will not do it at all.’
‘That’s four days,’ said O’Hara. ‘Add another day to convince someone that we’re in trouble and another for that someone to do something about it. We’ve got to hold out for six days at least – maybe longer.’
Forester looked grave. ‘Can you do it?’
‘We’ve got to do it,’ said O’Hara. ‘I think we’ve gained one day. They’ve got to find some timber from somewhere, and that means going back at least fifty miles to a town. They might have to get another truck as well – and it all takes time. I don’t think we’ll be troubled until tomorrow – maybe not until the next day. But I’m thinking about your troubles – how are you going to handle things on the other side of the mountain?’
Miss Ponsky said, ‘I’ve been wondering about that, too. You can’t go to the government of this man Lopez. He would not help Señor Aguillar, would he?’
Forester smiled mirthlessly. ‘He wouldn’t lift a finger. Are there any of your people in Altemiros, Señor