Bodie 2

by Neil Hunter

  He tried to sit up. There was no strength left in his body.

  The pain in his chest had spread, covering his entire being. He was paralyzed. He wanted to scream, to yell, to hit out and hurt something. But the light was fading too quickly now and it was so quiet, and then there was no more light and no more sound and no more anything ...

  Bodie rolled off Purdy’s dying body, twisting frantically as he got his feet under him. As fast as he was, the lash of Snake’s whip was faster. The crack of its contact with Bodie’s flesh came as a sharp, crisp sound. Bodie gasped in reaction to the searing line of pain lancing across his back. The whip had sliced open his shirt, then had burned a raw welt in his flesh. Blood welled up instantly, trickling down Bodie’s back. Bodie shoved up off the ground, turning to face Snake, hearing the man’s wild, cackling laughter.

  ‘Damn you, Bodie, I’m goin’ to peel your fuckin’ hide ’til you’re dancin’ round in your bones!’ Snake’s arm jerked back, then forward, and the black lash blurred as it curved for Bodie’s weaving body.

  It ripped cloth and flesh across Bodie’s left arm and shoulder. Blood flecked the air. Bodie fell back, knowing that there was no retreat from Snake. The man handled the whip as only an expert could. And he was enjoying every second of it. His scarred, one-eyed face gleamed with sweat as he repeatedly laid the bloody lash on Bodie’s body. His laughter floated wildly skywards as he deftly avoided Bodie’s attempts to sever the whip with the knife he still held. Snake had no worries on that score. The lash of his whip moved far too quickly for any human hand to intercept it. Even so, Snake stayed aware of the knife. He knew that if Bodie got the chance he would throw the knife. So Snake kept the man hunter on the move, driving him back and forth across the bloody earth, not giving him any opportunity to position himself for the throw.

  ‘Hey, Bodie,’ Snake yelled, ‘what you so cut up about?’

  The whip cracked again, biting flesh from Bodie’s chest.

  ‘Man, you’re goin’ to pieces! Haw!’

  Go on, you one-eyed bastard, Bodie begged, just keep it up! Don’t stop enjoying yourself because of me! I want you to get careless! I want you to figure it’s just a crazy game!

  Snake’s laughter increased when Bodie went down on his knees, head hanging, blood dripping from his torn flesh. A swell of excitement surged through him as he flicked the lash back, preparing for yet another stroke.

  Right across his goddamn ass! Snake let the lash drop behind him. He set himself for the stroke. Jesus, the bastard will jump a mile when I lay his asshole wide open, he thought, and took a couple of extra seconds to line up his target; This time, Bodie, he thought, this time!

  And then Bodie was up on his feet, running in under the lash, head low, the glittering blade of his knife thrust out in front of him.

  Snake cursed wildly. He was helpless to stop Bodie’s approach. Bodie had done the one thing that would guarantee him protection from the vicious lash. He had closed in on Snake, moving beneath the effective arc of the whip.

  And he wasn’t about to give Snake any chance of regaining his original distance. So Snake did the only thing he could think of. He let go of the whip and snatched at his holstered gun. His fingers had barely touched the butt when Bodie’s shoulder smashed into his stomach. Snake grunted in pain, spinning backwards. He landed on his back, choking for air, still clawing for the gun on his hip.

  Bodie let him get the gun out. Then he stamped down on Snake’s gun hand, grinding it beneath the sole of his boot. Snake squealed in agony as his fingers were crushed, bones snapping, flesh splitting to bloody pulp. He tried to sit up, saw Bodie’s other boot swinging at his face, and jerked his head aside. The boot connected with a sodden crunch. Snake’s mouth flew open, blood spraying out in a red fan. Shattered yellow teeth burst from shredded gums. Snake slumped back on the ground, moaning softly, glazed eye staring towards the distant horizon.

  Bodie kicked aside Snake’s gun. He reached down and retrieved his own Colt, slipping it back in his holster.

  Turning, he went to where Snake’s whip lay. Picking it up he tried the balance in his hand. The whip cracked loudly. Snake’s eye focused on Bodie with startling clarity, a cold shiver coursing through his body.

  ‘Get up, Snake,’ Bodie said softly. When Snake didn’t move fast enough for him Bodie drove the toe of his boot into Snake’s groin. Snake screamed, clutching at his crushed testicles. He staggered to his feet and stood hunched over, his ruined hand pressed tightly between his legs.

  Bodie let the whip trail on the ground where Snake could see it, He let the silence drag on for a minute before he asked, ‘Where’s Fargo?’

  ‘On his way to the border,’ Snake said sullenly. He refused to take his eye from the black lash of the whip.

  When he spoke his words came out in a mumble from his battered mouth.

  ‘You and Purdy supposed to meet him?’

  Snake nodded. ‘Him an' Jubal Keller were goin’ to wait just over the border. Mexican village called Valerio. We were goin’ to outfit there an’ then go on to this place Linc knows where we could lay low for a while.’

  Bodie tossed the whip to the ground. ‘You told me all I need to know, Snake!’ For a moment Snake was unsure what was happening. He began to lift his head, and that was when he heard the double click of a gun hammer going back. Snake jerked his head up, stared wildly into the muzzle of the big Colt in Bodie’s fist.

  ‘Bodie ... hell, man, I told you … for God’s sake don’t ... please ... please... !’

  Bodie put three bullets into him. Snake’s body jerked under the impact of the heavy caliber shots. His chest exploded in a welter of flesh and blood and as he was twisted aside under the force of the bullets, his back gushed red blood from the three gaping, ragged, pulpy holes which appeared. Shredded flesh and bone spewed out. Snake’s limbs collapsed and he crashed to the ground in an ugly sprawl, his body stiffening in a final spasm.

  Bodie moved across to his waiting horse. He dragged himself into the saddle and turned the animal in the direction of Pinalo. His body burned from the criss-cross lash marks left by Snake’s whip. Before he went any further Bodie was going to have to find himself a doctor. There had to be one in a place like Pinalo. He felt himself sag forward over the saddlehorn and jerked upright. The movement sent ragged fingers of pain racing across his torn flesh. He held himself upright, staring straight ahead. He stayed in that position all the way back to Pinalo, clinging to the saddle horn with bloody fingers. He let his horse trail into town and along the main street.

  Towards the far end of the street he located the office of Pinalo’s doctor, and there he let himself go, giving in to the weariness sweeping over him and the pulsing throb of pain. He let go and slid effortlessly from the back of his horse to the welcome softness of Pinalo’s dirty main street ...

  Chapter Twelve

  Jubal Keller stirred restlessly on the big bed. He opened . his eyes and lay watching the naked Mexican girl as she stood brushing her long black hair by the open window.

  Bright sunlight streamed into the room, touching the girl’s brown body, turning the smooth flesh a soft golden color.

  Keller groaned softly as he felt a warm stirring in his groin. Hell, not again! He was just about worn to a frazzle! The girl, Juanita, was the kind who just never knew when to quit. At first Keller had figured himself to be damn lucky. After nearly a week in this place he was beginning to have his doubts. Juanita was ready for it day and night. The trouble was Keller couldn’t keep up with her. It was a hell of a thing to have to admit!

  He sat up slowly, picking up his shirt and slipping it on.

  As he swung his legs to the floor the bed creaked. Keller swore softly.

  Juanita’s head turned in his direction. A wide smile curved her lush mouth as she caught his eye. Then she saw that he was dressing and she began to pout. ‘Where are you going?’

  Keller stood up. He tucked in his shirt, reached for his gun belt. ‘Need to stretch my legs,’
he said quickly. Juanita came across the room. Her heavy young breasts trembled as she moved, brown nipples rising stiff and large. Her dark eyes gleamed with anticipation. ‘Hombre, I can exercise your legs for you,’ she murmured.

  Yeah, Keller thought, and it ain’t just my legs you figure on exercising. ‘You just sit that sweet little ass of yours down, honey, an’ make yourself pretty,’ Keller insisted. He snatched up his hat and headed for the door. ‘Let’s save it for tonight.’

  Juanita stood in the centre of the room, rubbing her slim fingers down her flat stomach and over the tangle of black hair nestling in the junction of her thighs. ‘Do you not want me, hombre?’

  Partway through the door Keller paused to glance back at her. ‘Hell, sure I do, honey, but too much ain’t good for you. Liable to make a body go deaf.’

  Juanita frowned at him.‘ What?’ she asked.

  ‘See,’ Keller said. ‘It’s already happening!’

  He closed the door and made his way downstairs. Stepping outside he squinted his eyes against the hot, bright sun as he crossed the dusty plaza of the tranquil Mexican village. It was midday. Siesta time. As far as Keller was concerned it looked just the same as always. Time meant nothing in this place. The days came and went in a dreamy peacefulness. The atmosphere was like some kind of drug. It took hold, drained a man’s energy, left him lethargic. Keller was slowly beginning to hate the damn place. He figured that if he stayed here much longer he was going to become one of the passive, smiling peons himself. Shuffling around in white cotton clothes, a floppy sombrero on his head, rambling on about leaving every- thing until tomorrow. When he started to think like that, Keller decided, then it was time to move on.

  Keller stepped inside the cool, shadowed cantina on the far side of the plaza. The place was deserted except for the fat, sweating Mexican behind the bar.

  And Linc Fargo.

  Fargo spent a lot of time in the cantina. He always had a bottle of tequila in front of him and a long, black Mexican cigar in his mouth.

  Hooking a stool from under the table Keller sat down, tipping his hat to the back of his head. He watched Fargo for a while, annoyed at the man’s obvious contentment.

  ‘Buenos tardes,’ Fargo said after a long silence.

  ‘Jesus, you’re even startin’ to sound like a Mexican.’ Keller said.

  ‘That right?’

  Keller slammed a hard hand down on the table. The bottle of tequila rocked unsteadily until Fargo put out a hand to settle it.

  ‘Linc, quit playin’ about,’ Keller snapped. ‘It’s time we had us a talk.’

  Fargo flicked ash from his cigar. ‘Sure, Jubal, anything you want.’

  ‘Wake up, Linc!’ Keller rapped. ‘Let’s face it. Purdy and Snake ain’t comin'. It’s been too long now. I figure Bodie got ’em both. Same as he settled with Tyler and Boyd.’

  Fargo leaned back against the flaking adobe wall. The casual expression faded from his eyes and he stared hard at Keller. ‘You think I don’t already know that? Your gettin’ jumpy in your old age, Jubal? Startin’ to draw on shadows? That’s a shame.’

  ‘Balls, Linc! I ain’t ready to be put out to pasture yet. All I want to know is how long you figure to hang out here.’

  Fargo shrugged. ‘As long as it takes,’ he said. ‘That could be a while.’

  ‘If you mean until Kimble sends word, I think we’ll be here ’til they bury us.’

  ‘Kimble won’t let me down!’

  Keller laughed without humor. ‘Kimble? I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can piss! If Bodie ain’t killed him I dare say he’ll have scared him shitless!’

  ‘I know. Kimble, Jubal. Bodie might scare him off — but he’ll come back. just wait and see. Kimble can’t afford to let anybody down. His whole damn business was built on his reputation for always carrying a deal through. He lets anybody down, ain’t nobody goin' to trust him again!’

  Keller stared out of the grubby window in frustration.

  ‘Linc, this is crazy. Here we are, just the two of us. Stuck in this goddamn Mex village along with that fuckin’ statue, waitin’ for what? For how long? Hell, our money ain’t goin’ to last forever, Linc. These damn Mexicans might be all smiles now, but that’ll change once they find out we’ve run out of cash.’

  Fargo poured himself a fresh glass of tequila. He drained it in one swallow, banging his glass back down on the scarred table. ‘Quit worryin’, Jubal. I thought you trusted me?’

  ‘Trust don’t come into it,’ Keller said. ‘Look, Linc, we ain’t had nothin’ but trouble ever since we took that statue. We moved all over the place. Lost most of the boys. Seems there’s only you and me left now. Stuck in this . damn place with nowhere to go.’

  ‘Jubal,’ Fargo grinned, ‘you worry too much. Hell, I keep sayin’ that. Once we get rid of that statue we’ll have every place to go.’

  ‘So you say! I’ll tell you somethin’, Linc. Don't let me get my hands on that goddamn statue, ’cause if I do I’m going to melt it down and make horseshoes out of it!’

  Fargo sighed. He pointed a finger at Keller. ‘I was you I’d get back to that girl, Juanita. Go give her a damn good screw.’

  ‘Ain’t been doin’ anything else for the last week! That damn female is hell bent on wearin’ my pecker clean down to the stump! Jesus, Linc, once she gets it inside she don’t let go!’

  ‘Sounds like paradise to me.’

  Keller scowled. ‘Paradise, hell! Linc, I screwed her so many times I’m sucked dryer than a pump in a drought!’

  They fell silent for a time. Fargo gazed out of the window. A fly on the wall caught Keller’s attention. He watched it crawl across the wall, then abruptly fly away.

  ‘What we goin’ to do, Linc?’ Keller asked finally.

  ‘Ain’t the time for an answer just yet,’ Fargo replied.

  ‘Let me figure it out, Jubal. There’s a way out for us somewhere. I’ll get to it.’

  ‘Don’t take too long, Linc.’ Keller stood up. He turned to leave, then paused. ‘One thing I been thinking about, Linc,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Where’s Bodie?’

  Chapter Thirteen

  For two days Bodie did nothing but sleep. In his few moments of waking, before he drifted off again, unsure whether it was day or night, he managed to deduce that he was in a clean, comfortable bed in a neat, cheerful room. Apart from that there was nothing; apart from the fact that he was exhausted, his body leaden, though he

  became aware that the pain he’d felt before had lessened considerably. After that everything became too much. His weary mind rebelled and closed down, and Bodie drifted, sliding into a womblike warmth, deep and seemingly endless.

  He sensed sunlight on his face. It felt good. Bodie lay still as he picked up a cool fragrance in the room. At first he thought of flowers. But the fragrance appeared to be moving from one part of the room to another. Bodie opened his eyes fractionally.

  He saw a slim, full-breasted young woman standing at the foot of the bed, regarding him with more than a hint of amusement shining in her blue eyes. Her lovely mouth formed itself into a pleasant smile, white teeth showing between the soft moist lips.

  ‘You’re obviously feeling better this morning, Mister Bodie,’ she said. Her voice was low, but clear, her tone enhanced by a soft, husky quality.

  ‘If I’m not this has got to be Heaven,’ Bodie remarked.

  His throat was dry and his words emerged with froglike cadence.

  The woman laughed easily. ‘Let me pour you some water,’ she said, moving to the side of the bed.

  Bodie turned his head to watch her, liking what he saw.

  The dress she wore, white with a blue-check pattern, emphasized the supple shape of her body, the snug bodice clinging to the rounded contours of her firm breasts. A thick mass of golden hair, gleaming in the sunlight that poured in through the window, lay against her shoulders.

  As he lay watching her pour a glass of water from a jug set on the s
mall bedside table, Bodie became aware of a faint, but strengthening, sensation from somewhere around his groin. He realized too that he was naked under the bedclothes.

  ‘Here, drink this, Mister Bodie,’ the woman said. She handed him the glass.

  Bodie eased himself to a sitting position. The water was fresh and cool. He emptied the glass and handed it back to her for refilling.

  ‘My, we are thirsty! ’ She gave him another of her dazzling smiles. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

  Bodie almost choked on the water. He forced himself to swallow it. Hadn’t she done enough? He was sure she was aware of his arousal. As though her eyes were able to penetrate the blankets. He quickly drained the glass.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said, sliding back beneath the covers.

  ‘It’s Miss,’ she corrected. ‘Lynda Jordan. My father is Doctor Jordan.’

  ‘Appears I owe you people my gratitude, Miss Jordan.’

  She shook her head quickly. ‘We were glad to help. And the name is Lynda. Not Miss Jordan — please.’

  Bodie nodded. ‘Is your father around? I’d like to find out when I can get out of this bed.’

  Lynda shook a finger at him. ‘Not until the doctor says so! I’ll warn you, Mister Bodie, that my father is a stickler for the rules. Especially about patients getting up before he says so.’

  ‘Lynda, I’ve got things to do that can’t wait. I’ll just have to risk getting yelled at. Where are my clothes?’

  ‘You can’t have them yet. They were in such a state when I undressed you I decided they needed washing.’

  Bodie stared at her. ‘Did I hear you right? About you undressing me?’