Escape from Fort Benton

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by Scott Connor




  Escape from Fort Benton

  Nathan Palmer and Jeff Morgan happen across an ambush too late to help the victims, but a dying man gives them a gun, a key and a cryptic message about 10,000 dollars being available in Fort Benton in five days’ time.

  Now Nathan and Jeff set about getting their hands on the money. However, Fort Benton is the private empire of Mayor Decker and his ruthless form of justice. Before the day is out the pair are beaten up and thrown in jail.

  In Decker’s clutches, they’re going to need all their courage if they are ever to escape.

  Escape from Fort Benton

  Scott Connor

  Palmer and Morgan : Book 1

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  First published in 2006 by Robert Hale Limited

  Copyright © 2006, 2015 by Scott Connor

  First Kindle Edition 2015

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  Published by Culbin Press.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter One

  ‘I tell you, that just has to be gunfire,’ Nathan Palmer said.

  Nathan’s fellow-rider Jeff Morgan glanced up and down the trail, flinching as another sharp but distant blast sounded, then echoed back from the bluff behind him.

  ‘You’re right, but where’s it coming from?’ he said.

  When Nathan pointed to a monolithic outcrop of rock ahead, a single slim finger aiming up to the heavens, Jeff drew his horse to a halt. Then he turned it round and headed back towards the bluff.

  Nathan looked over his shoulder at Jeff’s receding back.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he shouted after him.

  ‘There’s gunfire ahead and we’re not the target,’ Jeff called over his shoulder. ‘So I’m going back the way I came.’

  Nathan opened his mouth to argue, but then another volley of shots rang out and this time the rapidity of the firing suggested that at least three people were involved.

  That was all the encouragement Nathan needed. He hurried on, heading for the outcrop.

  Jeff shouted after him, but Nathan ignored his friend’s calls for him to not be so reckless. He rode on until he reached the base of the outcrop, then drew his horse to a halt.

  He dismounted and tethered his horse. Just as he turned away to climb up the slope, with a resigned shake of the head, Jeff shook the reins and headed after him.

  Bent forward at the waist and with his hands frequently grabbing at rocks to steady himself, Nathan fought his way up through the loose shale. He climbed up on a route that took him to the side of the finger of rock.

  When the area beyond opened up to his view, he flopped down on his belly and saw that the situation was broadly as he’d imagined it from hearing the gunfire.

  A red-coated man was trading shots with two other men. They had all found cover behind boulders, but from his high position, Nathan caught glimpses of each hunched and huddled person. Two dead men were sprawled on the ground.

  He reckoned he could pin the men down, but from over a hundred yards away, he was unlikely to hit a target.

  Several boulders at the bottom of the slope would provide cover, but to reach them he’d have to run for at least fifty yards down the slope, all the time in full view. So he was pleased when Jeff shuffled up the slope to join him.

  Jeff darted up to consider the scene then lay back down.

  ‘Satisfied your curiosity?’ he asked.

  ‘I wasn’t curious,’ Nathan said. ‘I came to help.’

  ‘That helpful attitude was always sure to get you in trouble one day.’ Jeff patted his arm then pointed to their horses. ‘Now, come on. This hasn’t got nothing to do with us. We don’t even know who’s in the right.’

  Nathan leaned back to consider his sandy-haired friend, searching for the words that would persuade him to stay.

  Jeff had six inches on him and the powerful hams of his hands meant he could take care of himself. But contrary to, or perhaps because of, his appearance as an easily angered fighting man, he was reluctant to get involved in a skirmish.

  Nathan reviewed the scene again. To his left three horses were standing by a seep, the clawed-away dirt suggesting the men had dug down before they’d found water. The horses of the men to the right had mooched off a distance.

  He pointed. ‘I reckon those men to the left were watering their horses and the others ambushed them. Now, the one remaining man is outnumbered and pinned down and he isn’t getting out of here alive without our help.’

  ‘You may be right, but you don’t know that for sure.’ Jeff shuffled back a pace.

  ‘If you don’t want to help that man, don’t, but just wait until the other men see me, then cover me.’

  Nathan waited until Jeff nodded, then drew his six-shooter and shuffled on to his haunches.

  In truth, he’d never faced a situation like this before.

  During the two years he and Jeff had been friends, they’d punched cows on cattle drives, but they’d had enough of being ordered around. So they’d headed towards Fort Benton in search of a life beyond the endless cattle drives.

  He and Jeff had often been called on to see off rustlers and other troublemakers, but in those situations Nathan had always been with a group and his quarries had always been fleeing.

  So he took deep breaths to calm his churning guts and pattering heart. Then he crawled forward until the land dipped away.

  He rolled over a shoulder and kept the roll going until he landed on his feet. Then, crouched over, he ran down the slope.

  He hoped to get most of the way to the bottom before the men saw him, but he was pleased to hear pounding footfalls behind him as his friend followed.

  As he ran, the men on the right bobbed up first and saw him. Instantly, one man swung his gun round and fired at him.

  More gunfire sounded as Jeff also fired and even though all their shots were wild, the red-coated man used the distraction to blast at the man who had fired, forcing him to dive for safety.

  Nathan put on a burst of speed and slid to a halt behind the nearest boulder. He slammed his gun on the top of the boulder and tore off three quick shots even though nobody was visible, then ducked as Jeff joined him.

  ‘If you’re going to act like a damn fool,’ Jeff said, ‘I’d better act like one, too.’

  ‘I’m pleased, and I’ve already learnt one thing.’ While keeping his head down, Nathan pointed. ‘One of the men I reckoned was an ambusher shot at us and that means he’s in the wrong here.’

  ‘Or he might be in the right and he thought we were even more people come to attack him.’

  Nathan sighed, but Jeff still joined him in slipping closer to the boulder. Then Jeff shuffled up on to his haunches while Nathan raised himself to peer over. Beyond, all the men were staying low.

  ‘Hey, you people over there,’ Nat
han shouted. ‘What’s this about?’

  Nobody replied immediately, but again one of the men to the right edged up to look at them, then ducked.

  ‘Are you lawmen?’ he shouted.

  ‘No, but we’re here to help. So I reckon you should all just—’

  The man darted up and fired, the shot blasting into the boulder just inches to the side of Nathan’s head and tearing grit into his cheek.

  Nathan ducked, as a sustained burst of gunfire ripped out. When Jeff murmured that he knew this would turn out badly, Nathan crawled along behind the boulder to the next one, to come up in a different position. He glanced at the scene.

  The situation had changed. The man had paid for shooting at him with a gunshot to the chest and was now lying sprawled face down over a rock.

  His colleague was standing, clutching a bleeding shoulder and firing at the other man who was running towards him. He fired with deadly accuracy, his shot scything into the running man’s guts.

  The man folded, his momentum letting him run on for three more faltering paces before he stumbled and keeled over into the dirt to lie face down. He twitched once then stilled.

  The other man turned to face Nathan, his gun swinging round to aim at him. Fuelled on by the intensity of the fight, Nathan reacted instantly.

  He aimed and fired a moment before the other man did, his shot plowing into the man’s chest and dropping him, the return shot whistling high over Nathan’s head.

  Slowly, Nathan stood up. He was sure everyone had been hit, perhaps fatally, but took no chances as he rounded the boulder then paced out into the open.

  Jeff joined him, his gun drawn and darting round to aim at each boulder, but nobody emerged. Nathan went to the left and Jeff to the right, each man searching behind the rocks, but they returned to confirm that the only people here were in the open.

  Nathan rolled the man he had tried to save on to his back, but he flopped down. The damp redness spreading across his red coat confirmed he was dead.

  He walked over to the man who had shot at him. The side of this man’s head was gory and misshapen and Nathan didn’t fancy confirming he was dead.

  Then a sharp intact of breath sounded ahead. Jeff hadn’t made the sound and Nathan crouched down, glancing around.

  His gaze alighted on the man he had shot. This man was lying facing away from him, his legs drawn up to his chest.

  Although his gun lay several feet from his body, Nathan told Jeff to keep a gun on him, then walked in a steady arc until he could see the man’s face. He knelt a few feet away.

  The man had his cheek pressed into the dirt as he looked at Nathan.

  ‘You shot me,’ he said, his weak tone flat and devoid of bitterness.

  ‘Only to stop you shooting me.’

  The man moved his head, his flickering eyes suggesting he was trying to nod.

  ‘Tell me . . .’ A deep wince contorted his face and when his expression smoothed, his eyes were blank. ‘Were you trying to help us or him?’

  ‘Him.’

  The man snorted. ‘Then I had bad luck right up to the end.’

  ‘Are you saying you didn’t ambush those other men?’

  The man didn’t reply immediately and Nathan wondered whether he ever would, but then he rocked his head back. A whispered request emerged.

  ‘Come closer.’

  Nathan glanced at Jeff, signifying with a raised eyebrow that he should be on his guard. Then he shuffled closer, but stayed back far enough to watch the man’s movements.

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked.

  ‘Go to Fort Benton,’ the man murmured, his voice weak and faltering.

  ‘Who do you want us to tell about this?’

  ‘Nobody. Hide our bodies. Don’t tell nobody nothing. No time to explain . . .’ The man twitched, rolling himself on to his back. Pain contorted his face into an ugly grimace. He coughed, bubbling blood over his lips. He raised a hand a few inches and gestured feebly to a horse. ‘It’s in my saddle-bag. Take it.’

  Nathan was now sure the man wasn’t trying to lure him in to carry out a final act of revenge and he edged forward to look down at him.

  ‘What’s in there? And why?’

  The man’s eyes closed and Nathan couldn’t hear him breathing any more. Nathan reached out, his fingers questing for the man’s neck to check his pulse, but then the man drew in a rattling intake of breath and when he spoke again, his voice grated through every tortured word.

  ‘By Wednesday . . . ten thousand dollars . . .’ He uttered a strangulated grunt. His head slowly lolled to the side.

  Then the only sound was the wind rustling by and the only movement was the fluttering of the man’s collar.

  Nathan headed to the man’s horse, removed the saddle-bag, and rummaged inside. Only one object was within, cold and heavy.

  Nathan removed it to find he was clutching the looping coil of a gunbelt and holster, and a Peacemaker initialed with the ornate letters FR. In the loop nearest the holster, a key dangled.

  The key was large and rusty and when Nathan slipped it from the belt and held it up for Jeff to take, it was so large it poked out of each side of his friend’s giant fist.

  ‘Wednesday,’ Jeff mused, turning the key over. ‘I guess he meant we’ve got to find somewhere in Fort Benton to use this key by Wednesday.’

  ‘Or the gun.’

  ‘Or both.’

  Nathan considered then smiled. ‘It’s Friday today, so we’ve got five whole days to do it.’

  ‘Yeah, and there’s ten thousand dollars at stake if we can work out what we have to do.’

  Jeff grinned and despite all the bodies around him, Nathan couldn’t help but return the grin.

  ‘There is.’ He winked. ‘Aren’t you glad now you decided to help?’

  Chapter Two

  ‘Fort Benton is a mighty big place,’ Jeff said, drawing his horse to a halt. ‘Where do you reckon we start looking?’

  Nathan leaned forward in the saddle, peering through the fort’s large open gates, then shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps we might overhear someone mention that something will happen next Wednesday, or ten thousand dollars, or something that’ll give us a clue as to how we can use this key.’

  Jeff nodded and side by side they rode through the gates. In the saloon they purchased warm beers and sat at a table by the door considering the fort.

  It was as it’d been described to them last month when they’d made this their destination. It was a large adobe fort, the original buildings having been erected some forty years ago when it was a trading site for Plains Indians and trappers.

  When the US Army no longer had a need for this supply base the sprawling complex had fallen into disrepair. Even after many years of neglect, it was still a veritable castle on the plains, and now a home for the trading settlement that had sprung up both inside and outside the walls.

  There was a large parade-ground now baked hard under the relentless afternoon sun. In the shadows around the sides were walled spaces that had previously been offices, barrack-rooms, stables and which the townsfolk had now converted into a variety of uses, including the saloon.

  The fort walls were higher than the rooms and were wide enough for two men to walk side by side, but they were no longer manned.

  At the back of the parade-ground there was a complex of buildings dominated by the solid square block of the watch-tower. The squat building to the side of the tower had become Mayor Decker’s office.

  The windows in both the tower and the office were open spaces, the bars having long gone. The bars in the windows of the other building beside the tower were still there, this being the jailhouse and law office.

  Aside from the two red-uniformed guards standing outside the large double doors at the base of the tower, the fort maintained a sleepy atmosphere with few people moving about in the afternoon heat.

  Although enough businesses were here to suggest prosperity, the possibility of $10,000 being available in a few d
ays ought to have generated some interest. As it was, they drank their beers and two more without them overhearing anyone talk about money or anything that would suggest a reason for the gunfight they’d encountered this morning.

  Later, emboldened by liquor, Nathan returned his glasses to the bar and quizzed the bartender with what he hoped was a subtle question.

  ‘Anything ever happen around here?’ he asked, leaning on the bar. He kept his expression relaxed while his roving gaze avoided any display of interest in the answer.

  The bartender considered him with a sullen lack of interest as a solitary fly buzzed lazily around him. He rocked his head from side to side then raised a finger.

  ‘Last week Sheriff Buckthorn brought in the man who shot Frank Reed. Aside from that, nothing.’ He slapped a hand on the fly, crushing it to the bar. ‘That’s the way we like it.’

  Nathan nodded and beckoned for Jeff to join him.

  ‘So do we. I reckon as we might stop here – if we can find work.’

  The bartender blew out his cheeks, shaking his head.

  ‘There isn’t much of that around.’

  Nathan nodded and shuffled from side to side, pondering on his next question, but Jeff nudged him aside.

  ‘There’s got to be something available,’ Jeff said, slapping his large hands on the bar. ‘Who’s got all the money around here?’

  A cold-eyed suspicious glare replaced the bartender’s bored expression as he considered the hulking man before him.

  ‘You ask a lot of questions, stranger.’

  Nathan shot Jeff an admonishing glance for being unsubtle, then spoke up.

  ‘We’re just eager to work.’ He stood back from the bar and placed his hands wide apart, smiling. ‘We just want to know who might pay us a decent wage.’

  ‘What’s your line of work?’

  ‘We’ve worked on cattle drives aplenty, but we’ve had a bellyful of that and we reckon as we can turn our hands to pretty much anything.’ Nathan leaned forward. ‘In fact, if you’re looking for help, we might be interested.’

  ‘I’m not.’ The bartender shrugged, his concern gone from his eyes as he pointed outside. ‘But I guess you might find someone who’ll hire two men who’ll do anything.’

 

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