Custer tried to lift his hand holding the revolver but he couldn’t do it. Where was Tom? And Autie? And Boston? And Calhoun? His family? Someone came rushing up on the left and Custer twisted his neck. Tom. Bleeding from a wound in his chest.
“George—“ Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off as an arrow punched in one side of his neck and out the other with a gush of blood. Tom’s hands grabbed for the shaft as arterial blood spurted for several seconds. A bullet cut short that attempt. Hitting Tom in the side of his head, splattering his brother with his brains.
Custer could only stare in horror.
A soldier came galloping madly toward Bouyer, leaning as far forward on his horse as possible. It took Bouyer a second to realize why the man was in this uncomfortable and unusual position-he was trying to minimize his back as a target for the dozen braves on ponies chasing him.
Bouyer pulled back on the reins, halting. As the man raced past, a bullet caught him in the shoulder, tumbling him from his horse. The man scrambled to his feet, looking about wildly. He saw Bouyer and raised his hands in supplication.
Bouyer forced himself to be still as the braves raced up, two jumping off their ponies. One of them smashed the back of the soldier’s skull in with a stone-headed club. The other braves circled Bouyer, weapons held menacingly. Bouyer pulled one of the crystal skulls out of its wrapping. It glowed bright blue and was so hot he could feel it seer his flesh, but he held it high.
The warriors pulled back. even the two who had been in the process of scalping the soldier. Then they were startled as a second glowing skull held high appeared over a rise to the · west-and the hand holding it belonged to Sitting Bull.
“Powerful magic!” Sitting Bull cried out in Lakota.
“Yes,” Bouyer agreed.
Sitting Bull turned to the left. Just over the next rise lay the battlefield. They could hear the firing falling off from the crescendo it bad been. Bouyer knew the end was close.
“We go?” Sitting Bull inclined his head toward the rise.
Bouyer nodded and put the stirrups to his horse. Skulls in hand, the two rode toward the rise.
An arrow slammed into Custer’s left thigh. Piercing through flesh and muscle into the ground beneath. He didn’t feel any pain. He didn’t feel the burning heat from the satchel Autie had placed in his lap. All he felt was in his mind, disbelief and shock about what was going on all around him.
Gall saw Sitting Bull and the strange half-breed from the sun dance appear to the south. Both holding up glowing skulls. He signaled, indicating for the warriors not to attack the half-breed. Then he reached into his satchel and grabbed hold of the hot skull. He almost laughed at the pain. The sun dance bad prepared him for this. He held the glowing skull aloft and moved forward.
Buffalo Calf Woman slammed an awl through a dead soldier’s left ear, pulled it out, then jammed it into the right, piercing the eardrum. He should not hear in the afterworld. Because he had not heard clearly in this world. He had not heard the Great Spirit warning the whites to leave the people in peace.
She looked up and saw mighty Gall striding forward. A glowing blue object in his hand. She opened the satchel she’d taken from the blue coat. She blinked in the bright blue glow and then reached in. She grabbed hold with both hands and held it aloft. Then she headed in the direction Gall was going.
Walks Alone saw Gall and Buffalo Calf Woman. Where was Crazy Horse? He wondered as he pulled out the skull the great warrior had given him. He stood up, ignoring the warnings from the braves around to stay down. There were still soldiers alive on the hill, firing.
None would hit him. Walks Alone knew. He beaded up the hill.
Two Moons notched an arrow and fired it high into the sky, firing a second before the first impacted. He paused as he noted the people moving forward with the skulls. He put down his bow and opened the satchel he’d taken from Bloody Knife. He removed the skull, gasping as it burned his flesh, and moved forward.
Crazy Horse turned to the south toward the firing. His warriors spread out on either side. He could hold them back no longer. Their vengeance against those who had invaded their lands, killed their families, and brought disease and death was unstoppable now.
Crazy Horse reached into the satchel tied off to his pony and pulled out the talisman given by his “brother.” He kicked his pony in the side and raced forward.
Sitting Bull halted, fifty yards short of the last stand being mounted by the whites. He could see the Son of the Morning Star, still alive but wounded in several places, leaning back against the saddle of a dead horse.
Bouyer saw Custer also. He stopped next to Sitting Bull as Buffalo Calf Woman and Walks Alone joined them. The skulls seemed to sense each other’s presence, their glow becoming brighter, making them unbearable to gaze upon directly.
And then Crazy Horse and three hundred warriors crested the hill behind the last stand and swept down.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Rachel leapt out of the water and landed with a splash directly in front of Dane and Earhart.
“Let’s go,” Dane said. He didn’t wait for a reply as he moved forward in the Valkyrie suit, floating ten feet above the water, following Rachel’s dorsal fin. The dolphin, paused, arched her back so she could see that they were following, then continued ahead.
Dane saw their destination: a narrow portal column, streaked with red, flickering to solid black. Then gray with red, then black. Still filled with the red lines.
“That’s not a locked in portal,” Earhart said.
Dane didn’t respond. He moved forward, hit the portal and disappeared.
Earhart followed.
CHAPTER THRITY FIVE
“Angels,” Custer whispered. “Come to rescue me.” He dropped the pistol he couldn’t fire and reached up with both hands toward the white figures that had just appeared in front of him.
Dane saw the massacre all around as a wave of several hundred warriors washed over the remnants of Custer’s command. But all veered away from the strange vision of he and Earhart in the Valkyrie suits and Custer nearby with a glowing skull in his lap.
Dane slowly turned and saw a handful of people approaching, glowing blue skulls held in their hands. He raised his white arms wide, welcoming them, spreading out the metal net he had taken from the sphere.
The screams of the last dying soldiers echoed in his ears. He didn’t want to believe he’d become jaded to death. He wanted to believe that this battle had been inevitable anyway and he was here to cull something good out of a futile massacre.
Sitting Bull walked up and dropped the glowing skull into the net. Then Buffalo Calf Road Woman. Walks Alone. Crazy Horse. Gall. Two Moons. And then Mitch Bouyer with two skulls.
Eight.
“Eric.”
Dane had almost forgotten Earhart was with him. He turned.
George Armstrong Custer was looking at him. His face was pale, his body wounded in several places.
“The ninth,” Earhart said. He was the only one of his command left alive. On his lap was the ninth skull.