Pietro and Valencia, Part twelve

The Coyote had a headache.  It made him even meaner than usual.  He had abandoned everything in his life but drink and thoughts of revenge.  He would find Pietro and his whore and make them pay.  He didn't care about the money anymore.  His waking hours were filled with disgusting thoughts of what he would do when he found them; nights, his sick dreams would have horrified a normal person, but the Coyote was not normal.
For days he talked to people in the little town.  He pressured and threatened and he got results. It wasn't long before he heard about Estrella.  As soon as he heard that she lived in the mountains he knew that was where Pietro and Valencia would go.  He could read them like a book, stupid peasants.  It was harder to worm the location of Estrella's home, but after another small fire and several beatings, the coyote had what he needed.
He loaded his truck with several guns and plenty of ammunition, a razor sharp knife, a rope, and a wicked looking machete.  He headed out of town just after dawn, one of the first mornings he awoke without a headache.  He drove with the windows open, dust swirling around the truck, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and an evil scowl distorting his face.  After he finished with Pietro and Valencia, no one would try to cheat him again, they would know who was in charge.  Everyone would fear him.
But.....as with most plans, things do not always go smoothly.  Even though he had beaten and scared several people into revealing Estrella's location, those people had gathered together and formed a plan to make the Coyote's search as slow and difficult as possible.  These people were as angry as the Coyote had been.  One man worked at the gas station where the Coyote filled his tank.  The gas he put in was bad gas.  The coyote's truck would run rough and maybe even quit.  The man knew he would eventually have to pay for his actions, but he didn't care anymore, the coyote had burned part of his garage.
The second man working to stop the Coyote had sold him ammunition.  It wasn't right either.  There was a good chance that when the Coyote tried to fire his guns the bullets might not fire right.  They might even explode.  The man's brother had suffered both a broken leg and a bad concussion from the Coyote.
The third person was the old woman who lived next door to Valencia's family.  She had watched as the Coyote boarded up Valencia's home and set the place on fire.  She had heard the scream.  She had locked her door and cowered in fear that the Coyote would see that she had witnessed his horrible deeds and come after her.  When he did not she was relieved, then angry, then determined to help foul his plans.  The day after the fire she left, she headed for Estrella's.  She would get there before the Coyote.  She would warn Estrella and stay to help her fight the Coyote.
There were others in the town who would have liked to help, but fear kept them cowering.  Most would eventually find ways to make the Coyote's job harder, others went to the church and prayed.  If the Coyote had known he would have smiled.  He would think he had succeeded in his quest to make the whole town fear him.  He had not.  He had made them hard, as hard as they would make his job.  And there were more of them.  Many, many more.  The Coyote had hurt too many people.  The town had had enough.