A Congregation of Jackals by S. Craig Zahler Page B

their faces half blown off, their sides blackened, some limbs gone and shrapnel burning in their guts
.
    Quinlan looked at the toddler and said, “Tell them we want to speak to the chief.” The toddler called out the words in Appanuqi
.
    More braves came out of wigwams, and I was thankful that I saw no women or children. J looked ill, D was covered with sweat and the other fellow clenched his teeth like he did when he was angry. A dozen braves gathered on our right to charge in, but the twins lobbed two more grenades that exploded the moment they were at shoulder level and blew off most of their heads. Most of them died instantly, but a few fell to the ground shrieking from exposed skulls. It was horrible
.
    D saw two Indians raise spears and I saw one with a strange bow. We put bullets in their hearts and dropped them. In the silence after those shots, none of the Appanuqi moved
.
    To the toddler, Quinlan said, “Tell them to send the chief out now or we’ll kill every last brave and sodomize the women.” The toddler called out in Appanuqi and the Indians looked amongst themselves, unsure what to do. A voice called out from the round building of flat stones and the Indians dropped to their knees and tilted their heads as if God had spoken. An Indian with a headdress made out of at least twenty bird skulls and clothing made from bear fur walked outside through the fabric door of the building. This was the chief. He held a leash attached to a Mexican with curved legs and a lumpy head who walked beside him on all fours like a pet. The Mexican’s jaw was wrecked and wouldn’t shut and his tongue hung out like a dog’s and all of his fingers were missing. This was one of the grotesques we had heard about and it was very hard to look upon him
.
    The chief walked up and I saw that he was about fifty, but still strong and full of fire. He had snake spines woven into his long hair and a tattoo of a bird upon his forehead
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    He looked at the toddler and said some angry words, though he did not yell, but before the toddler translated, Quinlan said, “Tell him to look at me when he talks. I am the leader.” The toddler translated Quinlan’s words and the chief filled up with anger like a kettle with bubbles on the fire, but he looked over at Quinlan and repeated himself
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    Quinlan said, “Tell him to kneel when he addresses me,” which we all knew was going to create some real trouble. J, D, the other fellow and I drew our guns; thetwins dropped down from their horses. The toddler translated
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    Seven braves rushed us. I put down two, D put down three and J and the other fellow each dropped one. We were scared and there was no hesitation at all from any of us
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    The twins walked over to the chief. The moment he dropped his leash, the Mexican grotesque scrambled off. The twins broke a couple of the chief’s ribs and his nose and then stepped back. Quinlan told the toddler to tell the chief to kneel again and this time the man did. The cowed Indian looked up at Quinlan and asked a question, something with less pride and fire than whatever he had said before
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    The toddler translated, “ ‘What do you want of the Appanuqi?
’ ”
    “Tell him that they all must obey me. I am the new chief.” The toddler translated Quinlan’s demand. The chief gaped in horror. The Appanuqi nearby looked fearfully at their leader
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    The chief spoke his reply. The toddler translated, “ ‘I am the chief
.’ ”
    Quinlan reached to the side of his saddle, where he’d hung a burlap bag earlier that day. I didn’t know what was in it. He tossed it to the ground in front of the chief. One of the twins pointed his gun at the chief’s head, the other one untied the bag and emptied it on the ground right in front of him. It was two pounds of horse dung. The chief began to shake as he filled up with rage
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    “Tell him to eat all of that,” Quinlan said to the toddler. The toddler translated. The chief started to get up, but the nearest twin