by Sienna Mynx
“Why?” Samuel asked.
“Just think it wise is all,” he replied.
“Wha’chu planning, Henry?” Samuel pressed.
“Think on it, Sam! That asshole out there only wants the outlaw. He don’t give a damn about Nicademus.”
“And?” Samuel asked.
“We need to make the stand. Save the town by giving this railroad buzzard what he truly wants. Cut a deal.”
Samuel’s eyes stretched around the idea. What Henry suggested was suicide. Samuel was his father’s deputy, a position that Henry wanted. If he played this right he could stop with his farming and measly trading with neighboring towns. He could be the respected one. And maybe Annabelle would see him as more than a friend. Maybe she would look at him the way he saw her looking at that damn outlaw.
“You want ta strike a deal with that man? You have no idea what we facing!” Samuel warned. “And it’s all for Annabelle, isn’t it? Trying to impress her, or get rid of the competition.”
Before Henry could respond he saw a cloud of dust rising in the distance. Samuel followed his eyes. “Do you see what I see?”
“I see it,” Samuel replied. “Let’s ride! We got to tell the sheriff.” Samuel mounted his horse. Henry held back. “What’chu waitin for? Let’s ride!”
“I’ma talk to him. You go ahead. Warn the town,” Henry said.
“No! Henry, no!” Samuel said.
“Go! If what I think is right, I might save us all the trouble. Don’t warn the outlaw. Don’t tell him my plan. Just tell Pa.”
“Henry! No!”
Henry jumped on his horse and rode off toward the advancing posse.
Deputy Samuel Harper almost followed but he considered how vulnerable the town would be without any warning. Spitting a wad in anger, he turned and raced his horse for Nicademus.
**
“You sure?” the sheriff asked. As if Samuel’s arrival minus his son wasn’t proof enough. He paced the floor and rubbed the stress from his brow. His jaw locked tight and his chest heaved.
“I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Samuel said.
Gripped by fear, the sheriff grabbed Samuel and shoved him up against the wall. The man’s eyes stretched with fear. He was so close to strangling the bastard. But what would that prove? This was his son’s doing. His son who thought he needed to prove something.
“How far behind are they?” asked Jeremiah. The Indian stood silent and watchful of the men.
“We got maybe thirty minutes before they arrive. Depending on what happened to Henry,” Samuel said.
The sheriff released Samuel. He staggered and dropped in the chair. Everyone in the room seemed to mourn Henry before his fate was confirmed. Because they knew Tyler Shepherd would not let the young man live.
“We have to get the women and children and hide them,” Ms. Kitty announced.
“Not all of us plan on hidin’!” Honey and a few of the saloon girls appeared with guns and rifles. They wore pants and vests over button down shirts, ready to join the fight. Honey stepped aside and Annabelle appeared as well. She avoided Jeremiah’s questioning stare.
“We intend to join the fight,” Annabelle said. “All of us that can.”
The sheriff put up his hand to silence everyone. “We stick to the plan. My boy made his choice. We need to be ready to make our own. Cora right. Put the children and the elderly below in the cellar. Now! Go!” The bubble of apprehension popped and a charge ignited among the townspeople. Everyone ran for the doors. Several got to their designated posts––rooftops, crawl spaces, and on top floors that gave elevated views of the streets for leveling a gun. All but Red Sun and Jeremiah.
“Henry could be alive,” Jeremiah said.
“There’s a chance he’s alive,” Samuel said. “A small one.”
Jeremiah looked back at Annabelle with her gun and her pride all on display. He had to end this before the slaughter began.
**
The town was empty. Dead. Or so they wanted him to believe. That’s what Tyler Shepherd thought from his elevated view. He gave the nod to two of his men. His vision blurred and corrected itself. Tyler spat and swallowed a breath, but his throat was so raw and his head ached so bad he feared he was suffering from heat exhaustion. He pulled his hanky from around his neck and wiped his feverish brow. Nothing, however, would deter him from his mission. Twelve men surrounded him, all armed and pumped up on hate and inflated egos. They were filled with righteous indignation over what they’d been told. Their men, brothers, neighbors, sons had been killed by a town of vermin.
“Wha’chu think, boss?” Abraham asked. He peered out from under the low bib of his hat.
“Looks like an ambush to me,” Shepherd coughed, and spat once more. He wiped spittle from his lips with the back of his hand. “Bring him out.”
“You heard the boss, get him over here!” Matthew echoed.
A young man who had been badly beaten and tied at the wrist was dragged forward. Forced to walk while his men remained on their horses, he could barely keep his head up. But he managed. The boy said his name was Henry.
“How many in that town, boy?” Shepherd asked. He reclined back with his hands to the top horn on his saddle. Their captive glanced to the town and his gaze lowered. Shepherd sensed some of the young man’s bravado slipping. However, their prisoner refused to answer, or possibly couldn’t by the looks of his jaw. Mathew, on the horse behind Shepherd, drew his gun, but Shepherd put his hand up to stay the action.
“You already told me the town has Jeremiah Polk. Nothing else to say?” Shepherd asked. When Henry didn’t respond he chuckled. “Send in our warning shot,” Shepherd ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Abraham replied from his left. He wasn’t on his horse. Young Henry turned in time to receive a blow to the side of his head. The vicious assault dropped him to his knees. The other two men came down from their horses to assist. Shepherd’s posse had grown from eight, with two murdered, to twenty-three. The men held Henry down as another roped him up, and then fastened the end of the rope to the back of the young man’s saddled horse. Henry fought as best he could but it was a losing battle. Soon his fate, mistakes and all, flashed over his face. Shepherd relished the fear and terror he saw in the kid’s eyes. He wiped his feverish brow and smirked. Henry huffed and puffed, trying to breathe.
“Yah!” Abraham yelled with a swipe to the back of the horse’s behind. The steed charged forward, heading for the town, dragging Henry twisting and thrashing behind.
**
“Stay here.” Annabelle ordered the kids. She held her shotgun in her hand and wore her Colt Patterson holstered to the belt she had fastened around her waist. The elderly, women, and children were in the bottom basement of the saloon. Jeremiah had begged her to stay below. Convinced her she could help by protecting them. She knew better. She could help best by joining them. This was her fight too.
“Where you going?” Ms. Kitty asked.
“Upstairs. We both should go. You seen Honey and the other girls go off with the men. Why should we stay here?” Annabelle said.
“Why?” Ms. Kitty walked over to her and lowered her voice. “Because of them.” She pointed at the terrified children. “Because someone has to protect them, or don’t you remember what happened the last time you was put in the corner of a cave when a war raged between them and us?”
The words cut open wounds Annabelle never believed had fully healed. She choked on her pain and the memory. It hurt for her to throw it back in her face. But it was a cold hard truth she needed to hear.
“If they come in here, somebody need to stop them at the door,” Annabelle said.
Ms. Kitty sighed. She began to see the meaning of the argument. Below they were trapped. A distraction above may be a better protective measure. She picked up her rifle. “I’ll stay down here then. Go on!”
Annabelle gave her a sad smile. She turned and started to climb up.
**
Jeremiah and the she
riff had both chosen to take position on top of the bank. Across the street was the saloon where three other men hid from view. The building on the left was the general store. He saw Honey at the side of it kneeling behind a stack of crates. She had changed from the fancy gown into a pair of men’s britches with overalls. She wore a dusty floppy hat. If it weren’t for her long braids he’d have mistaken her for a man. The other men peeked out from their hiding spots. Red Sun and a few others were on the ground, also hidden low for the ambush. They were ready. He hoped they were ready. And then he knew they weren’t.
The sheriff saw the horse first. No one riding, the animal charged through town as if the devil was after its hide. And soon they understood why. Henry. Dragged listless behind the animal, bound and gagged, he was covered in dirt and blood.
“Henry!” the sheriff yelled. “Henry!” The sheriff ran for the edge of the building, ready to leap down. Jeremiah was up and after him. He tackled the hollering man and brought him down on the rooftop hard. His hand covered the sheriff’s mouth. The sheriff fought like a madman and for a minute he nearly tossed Jeremiah off him. But he held him down. And then he heard a shot. Both men froze.
“Off me! Get the fuck off me!” the sheriff hit Jeremiah in the jaw and the blow stunned him. He rolled off in agony. He double blinked and got to his feet and joined the sheriff at the edge of the roof. Someone fired a gun to stop the horse and shot it dead, dead as young Henry. Jeremiah’s heart stopped when he saw who had wielded the weapon. It was Annabelle. She dropped the gun and ran for the young man’s body.
“Henry!” she wailed. “No! No! No! Henry!!!” She threw her body over his. She brought him into her arms and screamed a blood-curdling cry of grief to the sky. The others came running too.
“Get my boy!” the sheriff said as he too started to scale down the building.
“Wait! Wait! Everyone! It’s a trap! Annabelle! Go back! Wait!” Jeremiah yelled to the townspeople pouring into the streets. Jeremiah’s warning was either not heard or ignored. They were too concerned with the slaughter of one of their own. Jeremiah looked to the east. And his fears were confirmed. Shepherd and his posse rode straight into town.
No one would ever agree on who fired first. The blasts from every gun deafened him. The posse came fast. Several were shot dead where they stood. Others returned fire. Shepherd and his men had ruined the element of surprise with their special delivery. Men and women who were prepared to fight were being gun downed in the streets. Jeremiah fired from both guns until empty and fired again to give his Annabelle cover.
Please God keep her safe. Please God keep her safe.
A man fell off the rooftop in front of him. Two horses and two men were brought down below him. He could not win the fight from up there. He had no time to get below. Jeremiah ducked to reload. He rejoined the fight. He brought down three, then four men. But there was no sign of Annabelle. Not at first.
“Fuck this!” he grunted. He ducked and ran to the back of the roof. He scaled down. He dropped to his feet and nearly met his fate. A man misfired. He returned fire and killed him. He ran on. Just as he rounded the building he was able to see three of Shepherd’s men cornering several of the townspeople. Their backs were to him. He shot two dead. The third turned and fired. Wood splintered from the wall of the store behind Jeremiah. He dived for cover. Several of Shepherd’s men saw him. He was hard to miss. The only pale face among the townspeople gunning them down. He was an important target. That was what he had hoped for, to keep Annabelle safe.
Jeremiah tried hard to find cover. He had too many blind spots. And the firepower of Shepherd’s men was unrelenting. But the townspeople refused to concede. More of them came out into the open to join the fight. He glanced up to see that the sheriff was still on the rooftop taking aim. It became chaos. He couldn’t tell who was shooting at whom. Shepherd’s crew were either thrown off their horses or leaped off, dodging the gunfire. Jeremiah tried to reload but his eyes lifted once more and he saw her. She was outside of the saloon firing at the men.
“Annabelle!” Jeremiah yelled in a voice barely heard. Smoke and sulfur filled his lungs and he coughed. He strained to see her through it all. Six men were down but Shepherd had six more. And from the sound of the hooves pounding the ground and riding in, he anticipated the number increasing. He prayed he was wrong. The bastards kept coming. And to his horror they were providing cover to send several men toward the saloon. One of the men he recognized: it was Tyler Shepherd.
Jeremiah lifted the gun and fired, wounding one as the men ran inside with Shepherd. “They’re in the saloon!” he yelled. “The saloon!” He pointed. “They ran into the saloon!”
Annabelle couldn’t hear him. But she saw him pointing. When she turned a bullet just missed her face. She fell back and fired, killing her assailant. Ms. Kitty was all alone inside with the children and elderly. Damn it. They would need her help. She scrambled to her feet and raced to the opposite side of the saloon. If she got to the back entrance she could use the element of surprise.
“I got you, bitch!” he snarled.
The gun fell from her hand. She fought with all her might and she heard Jeremiah yelling her name. She couldn’t see him. The chokehold of her attacker’s arm around her throat was impossibly tight. She clawed and kicked as he dragged her away from the gunfight.
“You want to go inside? Yeah! Let me take you!” the man laughed. “Is this her, boss?”
Another man, taller, meaner looking, stepped before her. He looked her over. “She ain’t the one I remember,” he said with disgust.
“Let her go! I’m the one you looking for.”
The giant’s head turned, and Annabelle was able to see who spoke. It was Honey. She stood in the alley with a rifle aimed at him.
“I means it!” Honey said.
The man tossed his trench coat back to reveal his holstered guns. “You killed two of my men in the train car. Do you know who I am, bitch?” he said.
Annabelle was confused. She thought the men were after her. Ms. Kitty said Honey had left Tyler Shepherd alive when they sent her in to poison him. No one had said anything about killing more of these men. But it was evident Honey had, because Honey always did things her way.
“Cain’t say that I give a fuck,” replied Honey.
The giant chuckled. She pulled the trigger, but the rifle just clicked, empty.
Annabelle’s eyes began to water. If they gunned down Honey, she couldn’t bear to see it. After losing Henry her heart couldn’t suffer another loss. “Run, Honey! Please! Run!” she begged. She fought with all her might but the man holding her began to strangle her he held on to her neck so tight.
The giant cocked his head, amused that Honey was weaponless. He reached in and drew both of his guns, and Honey tossed her useless rifle aside. She faced him with not a bit of fear. He then tossed both guns aside. “They call me Abraham. And I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t ever forget.”
Honey reached into the sides of her belt and brought out two long knives. She smiled at the man from under her hat. “Show me what you got, boss,” she said.
“What about this one?” the man holding a kicking and fighting Annabelle asked.
“Take her inside. Give her to the boys. I come for her.”
“No! No! Honey, don’t! Run!” Annabelle screamed at her.
Honey tossed her floppy hat aside and handled her knives. She didn’t run. Instead she ran straight for the gunslinger, aiming for his throat.
**
The boys had their orders. Find the outlaw, while the others riding in with him gave cover. There was only one person he intended to find. Cora. Shepherd coughed and wheezed through his breathing. His entire body felt several degrees hotter and his throat desert dry. The worst of it was his vision. Several times doing the search for the outlaw and then his return and discovery of his dead men, his vision had blurred and he had suffered a bout of dizziness. None of it gave him pause. He was on a mission. He coughed again as
he entered the doors. He removed his handkerchief and wiped at his mouth. He found blood. He was coughing up blood now too? What the fuck had he caught?
“Find her!” he ordered. “Now!”
The men took off for the stairs and the doors below. The door to the back of the saloon kicked open and Mathew dragged inside a fighting, kicking, screaming woman. Shepherd narrowed his eyes on the wench. And then he smiled.
“Aah, I was hoping to see you again,” he said.
Cora stood.
The others, including the children, knew to be silent when she did. She heard Shepherd’s voice. She strained to see through the cracks in the wood, and struggled to ascertain whom the woman they’d captured was. Honey was out there with the men fighting for the town and so was Annabelle. It could be either of them. Most of her saloon girls were down below helping her with the children.
“Where’s Cora? Where is she?” Shepherd shouted at the woman.
“Shit! Shit!” Cora said, under her breath. She began to pace.
“Ms. Kitty? What we gon’ do?” Jessiemae whispered.
Cora looked at the rifle in her hand and then at Jessiemae. Her gaze lifted to the terrified children in the basement. The time had come for her to act. “Take it!” she told Jessiemae. “Shoot anyone who comes down. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” Jessiemae agreed.
After a long inhalation and exhalation, Cora found her courage. “Don’t leave. No matter what happens, stay quiet and stay here,” she said in a whisper. With no choice, Cora went to the rope ladder and started to climb.
**
“How many went inside?” the sheriff asked. During the reloading of his gun he had met up with the sheriff, who had crawled to the back of a building. He bled from his leg and his side. He’d taken two bullets and was still wielding his gun. Many were dead. The problem was they couldn’t tell how many were still alive.
“They have Annabelle,” Jeremiah panted. “I’m going in. You can’t stop me!”