by Neil Hunter
Brand brought them to the soundest of the shacks, which wasn’t saying a great deal when he checked its condition. He led the horse up close and looped the reins around a loose timber.
‘Help him,’ Joanne said.
‘Bring the saddlebags and blanket roll,’ Brand said as he eased the lawmen down off the horse and found he needed to support the weakened man. Ahead of him Joanne had pushed open the door, stepping inside, and Brand followed. By this time he was practically carrying Rankin.
The interior was filled with a scattering of furniture. A few wooden benches and chairs. A solid wood table set in the center of the room.
Brand swept the table top clear and eased Rankin onto it. He slid his knife from the boot sheath and handed it to Joanne.
‘Cut away his shirt so we can see the bullet hole.’
While she did that he stepped back outside and took the rifle from the scabbard. He brought the jug of liquor with him.
‘Do you think they’ll find us?’ Joanne asked.
‘It’s their territory. Let’s hope they’re still of a mind we’ll keep moving on.’
He stood over Rankin, examining the wound. He could see where the slug had gone in, close to the shoulder bone. The flesh around and above the wound was discolored, still weeping blood.
‘What are you thinking?’ Joanne asked.
‘Bullet’s close to the bone. Must be giving him a lot of pain.’
‘He’s a brave man.’
‘And he might end up being a dead man if we can’t get that slug out.’
‘Not much of a choice then,’ Joanne said.
‘We cut out that slug it’s going to make a mess. No guarantee the shock might not kill him.’
‘You have to try.’
Brand opened the saddlebag and pulled out the other shirt he’d seen earlier. He cut it into a number of strips. He doused the blade of his knife with liquor from the jar and wiped it with a piece of shirt cloth, then poured more onto his hands and cleaned them as best he could. He soaked a wadded fold of material and handed it to Joanne.
‘How will you do it?’ she asked.
‘I’m no doctor. All I can do is cut around the hole. Make it bigger so I can see the slug and try to dig it out.’
‘But won’t that…?’
Brand glanced at her. ‘Hurt him like hell? Yeah.’
‘Damnit, I’m still here,’ Rankin muttered, his voice rough and barely audible. ‘Just do it…and give me some more of that liquor.’
Brand handed the jug over. Joanne raised Rankin’s head as he put the jug to his lips. He drank long and hard, gasping as the fiery liquid slid down his throat.
‘Jesus, that stuff is still evil.’
Brand stood over the lawman, catching Joanne’s nervous gaze. She didn’t say anything, simply gave him a slight nod.
‘Be ready with that cloth,’ he said.
Brand gripped the knife. This is foolishness, he told himself. I’m no damn doctor. With that thought in mind he pressed his left hand over the bullet wound, then made a quick incision that cut in deep. Blood immediately bubbled from the cut. Without needing to be told Joanne wiped it away with her cloth. Rankin had let out a low moan, his body arching up off the table. Brand leaned down hard with his left hand, already red with blood, and held the man as still as he could. There was no easy way to do this. Rankin was going to have to take the pain and to give him his due the man held himself as still as he was able. Brand spread the wound with his fingers, trying to see the bullet. The incision had exposed pinkish inner flesh and when Brand probed with the tip of the knife, easing it in deeper, he felt something hard grate against the blade. Rankin’s body shuddered and a low, continuous moan came from him. Brand felt sweat pop out across his face. He shook blood from his hands and bent over the wound again. This time as the steel blade moved against the piece of embedded lead Rankin let out a hard gasp, his body twisting in agony. The blade moved, slicing into the flesh.
‘Oh hell,’ Rankin yelled, twisting violently.
‘Damnit,’ Brand said.
He transferred the knife to his left hand, bunched his fist and punched Rankin hard across his jaw. The blow snapped the lawman’s head to one side, the force rendering him unconscious.
Brand heard Joanne gasp. Her face was colorless, eyes wide with surprise.
‘You have a better solution?’ he snapped.
‘Not really,’ she said. She cradled Rankin’s head against her and swabbed the bleeding wound again.
With Rankin’s resistance stopped Brand bent to his task again and this time he forced himself to complete it. He worked the tip of the blade beneath the bullet and tried to ease it out. The lead slug was held tight by flesh and muscle. More blood pulsed from around the bullet. Brand put the knife aside and pushed finger and thumb deep into the cavity. He forced his way around the bullet, his grip hampered by the blood slick.
‘God dam it. Come out you sonofabitch.’
‘Does all that cursing actually do any good?” Joanne asked.
‘Right now it does it for me.’
Without warning the bullet moved. Brand sucked in a breath and held it. He worked the resistant lead, fraction by fraction, until it came free with a wet sound. He raised his hand and showed the bullet to Joanne. She acknowledged him with a slight nod, then tipped liquor from the jug into the open wound and wiped it with a fresh wad of cloth. Brand sluiced his bloodied hands with water from the canteen, then helped her press a fold of liquor soaked cloth over the wound. Between them they bound the shoulder with more strips of cloth, pulling it as tight as they could. Blood quickly showed through the bandage but there was nothing they could do about that. When they draped one of the blankets from the bed roll over Rankin he was beginning to stir restlessly.
‘If he survives,’ Joanne said, ‘it will be thanks to you.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘Thank you, Jason.’
‘I just hope I haven’t made things worse for him.’
‘Hell, no, I’m feeling better already.’ Rankin was staring up at them, his bloodless face sheened with sweat. He raised his free hand and rubbed his bruised jaw. ‘That was a hell of a wallop you put me out with, hombre.’
‘All I could think of at the time.’ Brand held out the slug he was holding. ‘Damn thing put up a hell of a fight.’
‘I need a drink,’ Rankin husked.
Joanne put the jug to his lips again and Rankin took a swallow.
‘Still evil tasting,’ he said.
Brand took the jug from Joanne and took a swallow himself. He felt the fiery brew burn its way down to his stomach.
‘Got to agree with you. That is real homemade evil.’
Joanne cleaned her own hands. She took a turn around the room, peering into corners to distract herself from what she had witnessed.
‘Brand, I owe you,’ Rankin said.
‘Thank me when you’re on your feet again.’
‘I can feel you want to be on the move.’
‘The Monks aren’t going to stop looking for us,’ Brand reminded him.
‘And I’m holding you back.’ Rankin’s face registered the pain he was still feeling. ‘Maybe you should go. Leave me a gun and get the hell out of here.’
‘No.’
Joanne’s protest was strong. She moved back to stand next to the table, placing a hand on Rankin.
‘We have to stay together,’ she said.
‘If we leave we’ll be an easy target for them,’ Rankin said.’
‘So we’re caught whichever way we choose,’ Brand said. ‘If it’s down to me I’d rather we were in the open, not trapped in here. If the Monks find us all they have to do is wait us out. Or burn us out.’
‘Which is why we need to leave,’ Rankin added.
‘What do you think?’ Joanne asked Brand.
‘Hec’s got a point. They catch us in here our chances are poor. At least outside we have a chance to stay ahead of them. Not great choices but we need to make one or the other.’
/> ‘Stay or go,’ Joanne said, ‘Hec needs to rest. A couple of hours at least. Move him now and that wound will just start bleed again.’
‘Few hours and it’ll be dark,’ Brand said. ‘That could work for us. Make it harder for the Monks to follow.’
Rankin said, ‘What are you thinking, Jason?’
‘That I might take a look around. Before it gets dark. Pick out a way we can go that’ll take us well away from the Monks.’
‘Do it,’ Rankin said. ‘Leave us something to defend ourselves.’
Brand left them one of the rifles and a handgun.
‘Just make sure you leave that jug,’ Rankin said. ‘I might need to fortify myself if things get tense.’
‘You take care,’ Joanne said as Brand opened the door and slipped out..
Chapter Eighteen
Brand rode with caution uppermost in his mind. He allowed the horse to make its own pace as he moved through the timber. He had positioned himself and it took him no real time to work out the best route for them. The unmarked trail meandered across ground that would lead them to the lower slopes.
He saw no one. Heard nothing apart from the natural sounds of the land. If the Monks were around they were staying quiet. Brand kept the rifle across his saddle, ready for use. Something told him he was pretty much alone on this section of the mountain. Brand didn’t allow that to lesson his mood. Taking too much for granted could lead a man to lowering his defenses and that was one way to put himself at risk.
Sitting his horse Brand gazed out across the open fall of the long slopes in front of him. A silent, sprawling vista of trees and an empty landscape that would take them back in the direction of Santa Fe. Brand studied the way and memorized the terrain so that even night travel would be reasonable. It might be the long way around but it present them with the least problems—apart from the Monks if they showed their hand.
He decided it was time he made his way back to where Rankin and Joanne were waiting. They needed to be set on their way now. Brand turned his horse and rode back into the closeness of the timber, following his own tracks. He picked up the sound of running water close by and decided to take time to allow the horse to drink. Reining about Brand pushed through the close stand of timber shielding the water source. As he came clear he drew rein, fixing his gaze on the scene unfolding in front of him.
He took a moment to take in that what he was seeing was real…
A pair of horses close by.
A big, tall, shaggy haired man standing over a figure on the ground. Close enough to see the bright blood streaking the sprawled figure’s face.
His son’s face.
It was Adam…
Brand didn’t waste time wondering why the boy was here. All that mattered was Adam’s presence and the fact he was hurt, with someone standing over him…
Brand took it in at a glance and anger flooded his reasoning, pushing aside any other thoughts. All he could see was his son Adam, slumped on the ground with blood on his face.
And the towering figure standing over him, reaching down for the boy.
Brand drove his heels into his horse’s side, sending it powering forward towards the two figures. He slipped his feet free from the stirrups and as the horse pounded in close Brand launched himself from the saddle, letting go of the rifle and pushing his arms out in front as he reached for the tall man…
~*~
…Bodie heard the rush of sound. Turned about and saw a equally tall, broad shouldered figure throwing himself from the back of the hard striding horse. There was no time to do anything but throw up his hands before the man slammed into him. Locked together Brand and Bodie crashed hard to the ground, breath bursting from their lungs as they hit. For seconds they were a struggling shape, each attempting to gain the advantage.
As they broke apart, pushing to their feet, Brand aimed a clenched fist that caught Bodie across his left cheek. The blow rocked the man hunter’s head, shaggy hair flying as he registered the blow. His own big fist swept up and landed on Brand’s shoulder, the force behind the blow pulling him up short. Bodie followed up fast, swinging his left fist round and caught Brand on his lower jaw. Brand recovered, planting his feet and lashing out with a punch that connected with Bodie’s ribs, then stepped in close and took hold of Bodie’s shirt, pulling him towards him. The move was smooth and Bodie had no chance to step away. Brand made a sudden, twisting move, hauling Bodie over his hip and Bodie felt himself being swept off his feet and through the air. He landed hard on his back and saw the other man moving in. Aches flaring in his bruised body Bodie rolled on his side, coiling up one leg and kicking out. His booted foot caught Brand in his stomach, bending him forward. As Brand’s head lowered Bodie pushed himself off the ground and swung a hard right as he rose to his knees. The punch caught Brand across the mouth. His head twisted, blood flying from torn lips. He sensed Bodie sliding in closer and force himself to respond, spitting blood from his mouth and bringing up both hands to block the heavy blows coming at him. He took one to the chest, responding with a solid punch that clouted his opponent on his jaw, opening a cut that bled quickly. They traded blows, neither willing to give an inch, or quit, as they edged back and forth, taking and giving hits.
They would have battered each other senseless if Adam, recovering enough to realize what was happening, hadn’t pushed his feet and stumbled awkwardly towards them.
‘Stop,’ he yelled.
Neither man paid any attention, still continued to throw punches, and they would have battered each other senseless if the boy hadn’t pushed himself between them, his hands holding them apart.
‘Listen to me. Damn it, listen to me.’ He stared at Brand. ‘He was helping me, pa.’ He swung his head in Bodie’s direction. ‘This is my pa. He’s my father. My father.’
Bodie’s fist stopped in mid air.
‘Son of a bitch,’ he said. ‘That the truth, boy?’
Adam nodded. Swaying on his feet. Still weak from the fall.
Brand stepped back, backhanding blood from a gash over one eye. He was sucking air into his lungs. He stared at Bodie.
‘I know you,’ he said. ‘Been a while since I saw you. You’re Bodie? The one they call The Stalker?’
‘I been called that. And other things.’
‘You on a hunt now?’
‘Yeah. I taken out after a feller called Thad Monk. He’s wanted for robbery and murder. Killed a woman. Shot her in the back ‘cause she got in his way. I was following when your boy, here, got himself in trouble when his horse threw him.’
Brand dropped his defensive posture, shaking his head at the mix up.
‘Seems I owe you.’ He indicated the other’s bloody face. ‘Glad we chose fists and not guns.’
‘You got that right.’
Brand glanced at Adam, who had chosen to remain silent.
‘Now isn’t the time, boy, but we need to have a talk later.’
‘I couldn’t just sit back in town,’ Adam said. ‘I had to find you, pa.’
‘This is all very touching,’ Bodie said, ‘but right now we got other things to worry over. Like it or not, we’ve got a whole bunch of guns searching these mountains for us.’ He paused and eyed Brand. ‘Damned if I just didn’t figure it out. You’d be Jason Brand. Wore a US Marshal badge? Had some kind of falling out and lost your job.’
‘That story is going to stick to me like a burr under a saddle.’
‘You still working for the law?’
‘Yes he is, Mr. Bodie,’ Adam spoke up.
‘One question,’ Bodie said. ‘You up here officially?’
‘Looking for a couple of fellers. A Deputy US Marshal and a geologist. They went missing.’
‘Find ’em?’
Brand nodded. ‘The Monks had them as captives. Working a gold find up the mountain a ways. Seems there’s a rich vein up there. The Monks have been forcing people to dig for them. By what I heard a few have died doing it.’
Bodie slipped his Colt from his ho
lster and checked it.
‘These fellers. They still alive?’
‘One of them. Calvin, the geologist was gunned down while we were on the move from the Monks. Didn’t make it. Lawman took a bullet to the shoulder. Had to cut it out. He’ll be okay if I can get him down off the mountain and tended to proper. There’s a young woman with us. Monks had her captive.’
‘Sounds as if you’ve had a busy time.’
‘Could say that.’
Adam had knelt by the stream to splash water on his face.
‘Boy seems to take after you,’ Bodie said. ‘Riding all the way up here to find you.’
‘Seems likely. Got a stubborn streak a mile wide.’
Brand crossed to the stream and sluiced water across his own face. He sensed Bodie doing the same.
‘I ask you something?
Bodie turned.
‘Depends what it is.’
‘I came across a couple of the Monks when I first reached this area. One dead. Other had both knees shot out. That you?’
Bodie nodded. ‘They tried to put me down soon as they laid eyes on me. I didn’t take too kindly to that notion.’
‘I rode up to the house and told them where to find the wounded feller. Next thing I knew they were crowding me and locking me up with Hec Rankin and Calvin.’
‘Nice and sociable by the sounds of it. So I’m guessing you didn’t stay around.’
‘Took the opportunity to refuse their hospitality.’
‘So between us we got the whole Monk clan after our hair.’
‘Seems to me you two need to put your heads together over this,’ Adam said. ‘Taking separate roads all you’re going to do is get in each other’s way.’
Bodie glanced at Adam, then looked across at Brand.
‘Boy has a point. I don’t have a problem with it.’
Brand could have argued over the small details. Such as the fact that he had achieved what he came for. He had located the two missing men, so his assignment was over. But it went further than that. The Monk clan had shown themselves to be a merciless and troublesome bunch and no matter what, they weren’t about to back off and let him go his own way. He couldn’t dismiss the known facts. The unruly group were hell-bent on protecting their gold find and they would go to any lengths to achieve it.