Read Online The Warrior Sheep Go West by Christopher Russell - Free Book Online Page B

and bleating loudly.
    High above, the helicopter pilot saw movement to his left. As he dipped his machine toward it, he saw what seemed to be a small flock of supercharged sheep. He turned to the paramedic beside him. Her eyes were even wider than his. Then she pointed.
    The sheep had to turn their backs as the landing helicopter created another sand storm. Then, once the rotors had slowed, they trotted to where Phoenix and Cameron were lying. The paramedic ran toward them and crouched beside the humans.
    â€œAre you Phoenix and Cameron Dinsdale?” she asked.
    Phoenix managed a nod.
    â€œYour mom reported you missing. We’ve been searching since dawn.” She glanced at the puddle. “We were expecting to find a couple of corpses.”
    The pilot joined her, bringing a stretcher, and between them they carried Cameron quickly to the helicopter. When they came back for Phoenix, he was on his feet, wavering but determined.
    â€œYou’ve gotta take these guys as well,” he said. “Wherever you’re going. They saved our lives—twice. We’re not moving without them.”
    The paramedic shrugged.
    â€œOK,” she said. “I guess we can take them back to Fort Wilmot.”
    Wills had heard the words “Fort Wilmot.”
    â€œIt’s a Red Tongue place, remember?” he said urgently to the other sheep.
    And the pilot had no sooner lowered the helicopter’s ramp than the warriors were scampering onboard.
    â€œIs that another car?” asked Oxo, peering from the helicopter’s open doorway, while they waited for the paramedic to strap her human patients in safely.
    â€œOhmygrass…” Jaycey was standing beside him. “It’s staplegunwoman…”
    Holly Boomberg screeched to a halt, well away from the whirring rotor blades, and leapt from her golf cart.
    â€œYou can’t take those sheep!” she yelled, spotting Oxo in the doorway. “They’re mine!”
    But none of the humans heard her above the noise.
    â€œReady for lift off,” shouted the pilot, and the paramedic slammed the door shut as the helicopter rose from the ground and whirled away.
    Down on the ground, however, spitting sand between gritted teeth, Holly was already back behind the wheel of her cart. She’d read the words on the side of the helicopter:
    AIR AMBULANCE FORT WILMOT
    Just after dawn at Back of Beyond Ranch, Tod and Gran had woken cold and thirsty by the dying embers of their fire. Tod threw on some more sticks until it flared again.
    â€œI’m going to try and make some smoke signals, Gran,” he said. “To attract someone’s attention.”
    Gran creaked to her feet.
    â€œGood idea,” she said, then gave him a little nudge. “I hope you spell better with smoke than you do with a pencil.” She walked stiffly toward the door. “While you’re doing that, I’ll get some water for our imaginary cup of tea.”
    She picked up her bag, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the harsh light of the yard. And the twin barrels of a shotgun.

12
    The Sheriff of Gunslinger City
    The man holding the gun was huge. He was tall and upright, with broad shoulders and a leathery, tanned face. He wore cowboy boots and a fancy waistcoat, and stared down at Gran from the shade of a Stetson hat. Pinned to the breast of his waistcoat was a sheriff’s badge.
    â€œHowdy, ma’am,” he said to Gran, lowering the gun only a little.
    â€œHallelujah!” cried Gran. “How did you know we were here?”
    â€œI’ve been watching your smoke all night,” said the sheriff. “Fires ain’t permitted in this territory. Could I ask what you’re doing here?”
    Tod was standing beside his gran.
    â€œWe’re looking for our sheep,” he began. “And…”
    â€œUh-huh.” The sheriff was still pointing the gun. “And what sheep would that be,