The Curse of Iron Eyes
Page 10
He snapped shut the smoking chambers of both Navy Colts, and scurried beneath the building until he reached its corner. Iron Eyes hauled himself back to his feet and leaned against the wall.
Shadows were now his only ally.
Those of the riders who were left were still shooting in the direction of the fallen horse. He counted five men left in their saddles and Brady and Black Roy Hart hiding behind the wagon.
His mind told him that he had had twelve bullets and there were only seven of them left.
Without a second thought for his own safety, the bounty hunter stepped away from the building and fired again as he advanced towards them.
Before any of Brady’s hired killers knew what was happening, the deadly accuracy of Iron Eyes’ Navy Colts had brought them off their saddles. Then he turned his attention to the men behind the wagon.
Iron Eyes knelt and stared under the belly of the heavily laden vehicle. He could see movement. He pulled back the hammer of the pistol in his left hand and fired.
The sound of a man shouting angrily filled his ears. He rose back to his full height and fired again as he raced across the distance between them.
When he was within twenty feet of the back of the wagon, he saw a figure rising and aiming his guns at him.
Both men fired at exactly the same time.
Black Roy’s head shattered as the bullet hit it dead center but as the man fell forward and hit the ground, his dead fingers caused the hair-triggers to fire again.
Iron Eyes felt himself turning on his heels as the impact in his left shoulder knocked him off balance. He staggered and fell towards the wagon.
The metal wheel-rim caught the side of the bounty hunter’s temple just before he crashed to the ground. He tried to move but he was too dazed.
Suddenly the huge figure of Big Jack Brady loomed over Iron Eyes. The stunned bounty hunter tried to raise his weapons but he could not.
He was helpless.
Then he saw the barrels of Brady’s guns aimed at his face.
‘You’re gonna die, you evil bastard!’ the man yelled down at him.
The sound of the gunfire was deafening.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As blood traced down the side of his head, Iron Eyes began to focus on the body beside him. It was Brady. A bullet hole in the middle of his forehead told the injured bounty hunter that the hefty outlaw was no longer a threat to anyone.
Then he felt two hands on his arms.
Iron Eyes was raised to his feet by Harve Calhoon and the bartender. Both men seemed to be checking the neat hole in his shoulder at the same time.
‘The bullet went straight through,’ the bartender said.
‘It ain’t even bleeding,’ Calhoon added.
Iron Eyes rested his back against the wagon and managed to focus on the two men. He then saw the smoking pistol in Harve Calhoon’s hand.
‘Did you kill the fat man, mister?’
Calhoon nodded. ‘Yep. I couldn’t let him get away with killing you.’
‘Why not?’
‘That gang just slaughtered a whole bunch of innocent folks back at Honcho Wells,’ Calhoon explained. ‘Even women and kids.’
‘Vermin,’ the bounty hunter growled.
‘They were lower than vermin, Iron Eyes.’ Calhoon sighed.
Iron Eyes rubbed the blood off his face with his sleeve and studied the outlaw before him. The face was carved into his mind, he had seen it on the poster in his pocket.
‘Harve Calhoon,’ Iron Eyes said drily.
‘That’s my name. You know me?’ Calhoon asked. He lifted the pair of Navy Colts off the sand and handed them to the injured bounty hunter.
For a moment Iron Eyes said nothing. He had trailed this man for weeks and yet for some reason which he could not fathom, the man had saved his life.
‘I reckon I ought to thank you, mister.’ Iron Eyes slid both his pistols into his belt and pulled himself away from the side of the wagon.
Suddenly the sound of an army bugle filled the streets of Calico. The three men watched as every outlaw in the town came running out of the saloons and gambling-halls and running to their mounts.
As the sound of the approaching platoon of cavalrymen grew louder, hundreds of men galloped out of the town.
Iron Eyes turned and looked at Harve Calhoon.
‘Ride, Calhoon. The army will slap you in shackles if ya still here when they arrive.’
‘Reckon ya right, Iron Eyes.’
The outlaw touched the brim of his Stetson and ran to his horse. He threw himself on to its saddle. The man thundered after the fleeing outlaws.
The bartender took hold of the bounty hunter’s elbow and helped him to the empty boardwalk outside the Wayward Gun. Iron Eyes sat down on the steps and pulled out a cigar, which he placed between his teeth. He watched as the bartender seated himself next to him.
‘I thought ya was gonna kill Harve Calhoon?’
Iron Eyes chewed on the cigar and stared at the bodies before them.
‘There’s enough bounty on the ground here for me, friend.’
‘And ya might get a reward for recovering the army gold.’ The bartender grinned.
‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ Iron Eyes accepted a light for his cigar and inhaled the smoke deeply. ‘What they call you?’
‘John Smith,’ the man smiled sheepishly.
Iron Eyes nodded. They could hear the troopers horses entering the outskirts of Calico.
‘I believe ya, but a lot of folks wouldn’t.’
‘Are you about ready to see a doctor now?’ the man asked.
Iron Eyes chewed on the cigar.
‘I’m giving it serious consideration, Mr. Smith.’
Titles in this Series
Iron Eyes
Irons Eyes the Avenger
The Spurs of Iron Eyes
Fury of Iron Eyes
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