Pulling her coat tight around her, Rose said, “I’m over this way.”
“As am I, that’s handy.”
She laughed as we approached our cars, not far from one another, but quickly her laugh became a groan. “Oh no.”
“What?” I asked, suddenly alert, my free hand reaching for my gun.
“Is that sporty car yours?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It appears Sam and his pal had to have the last word after all.”
Fear gripped me, and I quickly looked over at my baby and saw what she’d seen before me. “Damn it!” I ran over to the car and squatted by one of the four flat tires. “He slashed ‘em. Son of a bitch! Oh, he’s gonna be a sorry man come tomorrow.”
“Well, not much you can do now. I’ll give ya a ride back to Lois’s, and we’ll get you towed in the mornin’. I’ll go let Pete know.”
Before I could stop her, she turned and ran back into the bar. I used that moment to examine the wards I’d put on the car. He hadn’t, so everything else was fine. “Next time I get a protection ward, it’s gonna include the tires, damn it,” I grumbled.
“Pete says you’ll be safe to leave your car here overnight. No one will tow it. Said he’d leave a note for the openin’ bartender, too. Come on, I’ll give ya a lift.”
With a sigh of resignation, I agreed and got into her car. I was supposed to leave for Las Cruces in the morning...looked like I was gonna be late. I hated being late.
April, 1878
We can’t be staying here too long,” I told Dick. “We’ll be late and miss that stagecoach.”
“We’ll be fine, Billy,” he replied, still eating his food.
Frank Coe finished eating first. “I’m with Billy on this. We can’t be dawdlin’ here. I’ll head on out and switch places with George, so we can get movin’ sooner.”
With that, he headed out, only for both of the boys standing guard to come rushing into the dining room.
“We got a situation, Cap’n,” Middleton said, causing the whole gang to go silent.
Before Dick could reply, George said, “Buckshot Roberts just rode up to the post office.”
Some of the gang who’d finished eating already stood and wandered over to our table while Dick yanked up his satchel and pulled out some papers from the front pocket.
“I have a warrant for him right here,” Dick said, laying the paper in the center of the table.
“I know, I know,” George said. “But Frank and I know him, he’s got himself a ranch on the Ruidoso not too far from us. Mind you, we used to know him just as Bill Williams, but, well...”
“For God’s sake, spit it out, George,” I said with a laugh.
“Frank’s gone to talk to him, I couldn’t stop him. Said he was gonna try and convince him to turn himself in.”
“What if he don’t?” MacNab proposed, now standing between Charlie and me.
Dick looked from them to the rest of us and said, “Boys, he’s a bad hombre, well-armed, and I ain’t gonna ask anyone to go and get him, but who will volunteer? Anybody?”
Charlie was the first to pipe up. “You bet, I’ll go for one.”
“I’ll go, too,” Henry Brown chimed in, wiping his mustache of food remnants.
“You know you can count me in,” Middleton said.
I wasn’t surprised at any of their offers. It was the next voice I’d not expected.
“I’ll be another to go, Dick,” George said, likely volunteering to make sure nothing bad happened to his cousin.
Me knowing how pissed off Charlie still was from last week and our run-in with Roberts, I said, “I’d hate to miss this little frolic, so I guess I’ll go, too.”
“Good!” Brewer said.
More food was set down, and George looked at it longingly. “Think we can give Frank a bit of time to talk to him though?”
“Is that your head or your stomach talkin’, George?” I teased.
“The least we can do is give Frank a chance for us to bring him in quietly...and let me eat.”
Dick laughed. “Sit, eat, we’ll give him some time.”
Middleton and George sat down and eagerly dug into the food on the table. But Dick didn’t plan to just wait and hope for the best.
“Billy, can you get an ear in on that?”
“Yeah, I can do that. Be right back.”
I headed out into the hall that ran through the middle of the bottom level of the home. To my left was the door we’d come in from, to my far right was another door. I hustled to that and went through it and into the store. With a finger to my lips, I looked to the man working behind the counter. He was smart and said nothing.
Ear to the door that led out onto the porch where Frank sat with Roberts, I listened, recognizing Frank’s voice easily.
“I had no idea you were sellin’ your ranch.”
“It’s time for me to be movin’ on,” Roberts replied.
Frank sighed, and I knew he was about to broach the subject.
“Thing is, the Regulators have a warrant for your arrest.”
“The hell you have,” Roberts blurted out.
“Yes, and I’m glad you rode up because now we won’t have the trouble of huntin’ for you. You better come in the house and see Brewer and surrender.”
“Me, surrender?” Roberts asked with a laugh.
“Why, of course. There ain’t any way out of it now,” Frank told him.
“Well, we’ll see about that.”
“There are fifteen total in the gang, Bill,” Frank said, “and if you don’t surrender peaceable, it means simply they’ll kill you. You wouldn’t have a chance on Earth.”
“As long as I’ve got a load in old Betsy here,” Roberts said, my ears picking up the sound of him patting something, likely a rifle, “there ain’t nobody goin’ to arrest me, least of all this gang.”
“Now, don’t be foolish, Bill,” Frank argued. “There ain’t no sense in resistin’ and gettin’ yourself killed.”
“I’d be killed if I surrendered.”
“What makes ya think that?” Frank asked him, genuinely interested.
“Didn’t I try to kill Billy Bonney and Charlie Bowdre last week? If those two fellows got their hands on me now, they’d kill me for sure.”
“No, they wouldn’t. You surrender and nobody will hurt you.”
Not likely, but Frank sounded like he believed it.
“Yes,” said Roberts. “That’s what they told Morton and Baker. I know this gang.”
I didn’t wait around any longer, I’d heard enough. Roberts wasn’t going to turn himself in, no way in hell. I went back into the dining room and brought everyone up to date. Roberts might’ve been slightly crippled from all his years in the service dealing with Indians, unable to lift a gun higher than his waist, but he was a good shot nonetheless.
Dick had this look on his face that told me he was feeling a bit bloodthirsty, and I knew his mind was made up—he wanted to take Roberts, regardless of the consequences.
I pulled him aside. “Moon’s up. Did you drink any of the black water?”
“No. We don’t know exactly what it does, and now ain’t the time to test that out. Why?”
I sighed. “‘Cause ya got that look in your eye.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, then stepped around me to the group. “Those of you who volunteered, go get suited back up. We’re takin’ this one today.”
Charlie stood, a glint in his eye, too. “Said my name, did he, Billy? Well, let’s see who comes out on top, shall we?” He tossed his napkin down on the table and headed out of the dining room.
I followed the boys out of the dining room and into the hall, with George right behind me, still chewing his last bit of food.
Heading toward the back porch, Dick said, “If he kills that little bunch, the rest of us will take a hand.”
I looked to George. “Not so sure Dick’s got a lot of confidence in us.”
Stepping out the door, I took up
my belt from Charlie who was handing it to me.
“Lead or silver?” George asked me quietly.
Middleton’s heavyset and swarthy self pushed between us to his belongings. “He’s human; lead is fine. Let’s not waste the silver.”
“What he said,” I commented to George as Middleton loomed over me.
“You got it,” George said and began to load his pistol and Winchester, as did the rest of us.
Coming close to me, Charlie said, “Is Brewer all right? He seems a bit...edgy. More vengeful than usual, if that’s even a word to use for the gentle giant. Man’s got blood in his eye.”
Oh, if only I could tell him the truth. I wanted so badly to say, “Well, he’s only been a werewolf for over two weeks, and the moon is out right now so he’s got a bit of bloodlust going on, so go get a silver stake, I’ll knock him out with it, and we’ll just let Roberts go.” Thing is, I couldn’t. I’d made Dick a promise, and I would keep it. Plus, I knew Buckshot had a hand in Tunstall’s murder, so there was no way we could let him leave.
We all finished loading up and headed around the east side of the house to sneak up on Roberts on the plank walkway out back. We all reached the corner, and Charlie gave me a look before he went around the bend, saying, “Roberts, hands up! You’re under arrest!”
“Not much, Mary Ann...” Roberts said as an insult to Charlie.
The rest of us came around the corner and two shots fired simultaneously, Charlie’s pistol and Roberts’ rifle.
Pulling on my abilities, I began to see things slower than they were happening. Unable to stop it in time, I watched as Roberts’s shot hit Charlie in the gut, glancing off the buckle of his cartridge belt. From there, the bullet hit George’s gun, traveled up the barrel, hit his hand, sending the gun flying off the plank walkway.
Charlie went down, but not George. Instead, he ran at Roberts in a rage as I rushed to Charlie. Middleton shot at Roberts and missed. Standing, Roberts fired three times from the hip as he backed up around the front of the store. The first bullet missed George somehow while the second grazed my arm. The third caught Middleton in the chest, and he went down as Roberts went around the northwest corner of the building.
Henry and I were the only ones left standing with a gun seeing as Frank never had a weapon to begin with. I ordered Henry to check on Middleton, ran past the Coes, and then around the front of the store. Peering around the northwest corner, I saw Roberts step backward up onto the plank porch outside Dr. Blazer’s office. I tried to see if he was hit, but couldn’t tell, so I fired. Unfortunately, he’d just stepped into the recess of the door to the office, and my bullet missed.
Roberts must’ve opened the door and backed into the room, for all that stuck out toward me was the barrel of his Winchester. He fired, but it was empty. The door slammed shut, and I heard the lock turn. With a curse my momma would’ve slapped me for, I turned and ran back to the store entrance where I found Middleton coughing up blood and George Coe sitting with his cousin, nursing a hand that was bleeding rather profusely.
Dick came running around the northeast side of the building with Frank MacNab, Fred Waite, and Big Jim French.
“Where are the rest?” I asked, meaning Steve Stephens, John Scroggins, and Ignacio Gonzales.
“Went around the other side,” Waite said, walking over to Frank Coe and handing him his guns and belt.
“What happened?” Frank MacNab demanded to know.
At the same time, Dick asked, “Where is he?”
MacNab wasn’t in charge, so I answered Dick first, “He’s locked himself in Blazer’s office.” Looking over at Charlie, who was curled up in pain on the ground, I gave the short version of what had occurred and explained that even though Charlie wasn’t bleeding externally, he likely was on the inside from the hit he took that severed his cartridge belt.
“Are you okay?” Fred Waite asked George, looking down at his bleeding hand.
“Bastard took my trigger finger and busted up my hand really bad, Fred. I’m out.”
Dick went over and knelt by Middleton, who coughed up more blood. Brewer looked up at us and said, “He’s really bad. I’ll get that bastard now at any cost. I’m gonna go talk to Blazer.” With that, Dick stood and went into the store, running into Blazer’s foreman, David Easton.
“I have a warrant for the man hiding in Blazer’s office. I need you to go in there and bring him out.”
Easton refused, begging Brewer and the rest of us to leave.
Having none of that, Brewer entered the house to go find Doctor Blazer, and I sat by Middleton. We all could hear Brewer’s loud, bass voice demanding that the doctor bring Roberts out or he’d burn the house down. Seeing as Dick stormed out even madder than before, we all assumed Blazer told him no. The doc was neutral to the core, and if you were in his house, you were safe from either side of this war.
“I’ve got an idea. Let’s move,” Dick said.
MacNab stepped in Dick’s way. “Pardon me for sayin’ so, but shouldn’t we be gettin’ our injured to a doctor instead?”
Dick’s eyes filled with silver fever-light, and I spun him about.
Tapping Dick’s arm twice, I said, “MacNab has a point, we can go after Roberts, have a few of the others work at gettin’ us outta here if it doesn’t all go well.”
Dick shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Letting it out, he opened them back up again, the light now gone, and said, “Fine, MacNab, you see if you can get a wagon from Blazer for our wounded. Big Jim will help you load. Frank, Fred, and Billy? Come with me.”
Frank looked at George, who nodded and told him to go. We all followed Dick back around as he explained our plan of attack. Frank grabbed his Winchester once we reached the south entrance, and we all split up. Frank and Dick ran over the creek bridge and down the hill. His long legs carrying him, Dick ran to the mill itself and positioned himself behind a log pile at the end of the second building.
Frank kept running, through an open area, to the next building where he used the southeast corner for cover as he raised his rifle and took aim at the Blazers’ house. They both might’ve been fifty feet below the house on an angle, be they had a direct line of sight to the window to Blazer’s office from where they stood.
There was a small wagon just around the southwest corner, on the west side, just before you got to the plank porch in front of Blazer’s office. Fred and I crouched around that, ready to take the shot if he stepped out. When he didn’t, Dick fired his weapon from the woodpile, straight into the window of the office. Smoke rose from his weapon as he slunk down behind the logs.
When all stayed silent for a minute, I was wondering if Dick had hit the son of a bitch. Curious as to what was going on, I peeked out just as a gun went off. With the power of the supernatural in my system, I saw the bullet go past me, and my head swiveled to the left, following it down to where Dick had also raised up to see what was going on.
“No!” I shouted, but it happened anyway.
The bullet from Roberts hit Brewer in the head, causing him to drop face first onto the wood pile. Panic froze my voice, but not my feet. Without thinking twice, I ran for Brewer. Frank and Fred laid down cover fire for me and I prayed that everyone else was so focused on taking cover that they’d not notice my supernatural speed. I jumped the creek and ran behind the mill building before rushing to where Dick was at, not knowing what I’d find.
If Roberts had fired a silver bullet, Dick was dead for certain, for that bullet hit Brewer in the head. I saw it. Hell, we all saw it. Worse yet, if he wasn’t dead, Dick was going to have to do the one thing he never wanted: tell the Regulators the truth.
27
Running Out Of Time
Frank Coe was the closest to Brewer at the time of the shot, but thankfully, he was too busy covering me to reach Dick’s side first. The big man had slid down from where he’d landed on the logs, now laying on his back lengthwise along the log pile to his right.
Dropping to my kn
ees to the left of Brewer’s head to block Frank’s view of it, I saw blood around a hole that seemed to sink into his left eyebrow. However, as I watched, the bullet worked itself out and rolled down the side of his face to the ground.
Shocked, I picked it up. “Thank God. Dick, can you hear me?”
“Kid! Get away from there!” Frank yelled as he moved closer.
Gunfire erupted from the office window, and everyone, including Frank, put his focus there.
Dick groaned. “That son of a bitch.”
“Don’t you move,” I whispered. “They all saw that bullet hit your head. If you sit up all fine and dandy, they’ll know. Which I’m cool with, but are you?”
Dick lay perfectly still, which gave me his answer.
Noting movement our way, I held up a hand toward all parties. “Don’t come closer. It blew a section of his head clean off. He’d not want you to see this.”
“Damn it!” Frank said. Turning his attention on the now silent window where Roberts was, he fired a few times while yelling out in emotional anguish.
I used that moment to pull my bandana off and wrap it around Dick’s head, as if hiding the wound. “You’re gonna have to pretend to be dead. Are you sure you just don’t want to tell―”
“No! They can’t know!” he whispered, heartbreak plastered all over his face. “Billy, they—”
“Okay. Shush!”
The gunfire ceased.
“Kid! Come on, we have to go! MacNab is loadin’ up Charlie and the rest. If we’re to save Middleton, we need to get him to Fort Stanton.”
“We can’t leave Dick here like this!” I shouted out.
“Dick would understand,” Frank said.
“The hell I would,” Dick muttered so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
“Go fetch your horse, mine too,” I said. “I’ll be right there.” I quickly closed Dick’s eyes and placed my white handkerchief over his left eye and eyebrow area, the blood soaking into it.
Frank came over and laid a hand on my shoulder. “He really was the best of us.”
The Curse of Billy the Kid: Untold Legends Volume One Page 30