by Jack Martin
Arkansas brought his horse to a sudden halt and let off several shots towards one of the barns and jumped from his horse and ran to his friend. Dust spat up around him as each bullet got that little bit closer than the one before. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned and shot, just in time to see one of Lance’s men scream and fall forward from the roof of the ranch house.
First blood.
Arkansas reached Will and grabbed him beneath the arm. Together they ran across the courtyard and dived for cover behind the privy.
‘We’re in the shit now,’ Will said, and Arkansas was glad to see his friend had not lost his sense of humour.
‘Never did get used to your jokes.’
Gunfire seemed to come from all directions and sections of the privy wall suddenly disappeared. Arkansas said a silent prayer and then came out of concealment and fired the Colt in the direction he thought the firing was coming from. He caught sight of a man as he peered out from behind the smallest of the three barns to his left and he fired. His shot was true and the man suddenly threw his arms up as the back of his head exploded onto the wall behind him.
Arkansas dived for the relative safety of the privy.
‘I got another one.’
‘We need to get behind them,’ Will said. ‘See that fence? Should be able to see a target from there.’ He pointed to the corral fence that ran alongside the barn. Beyond it there was an area of greenery where someone had started a garden.
Arkansas nodded. ‘You cover me.’
Will nodded. ‘Go,’ he yelled and emerged from cover himself. He worked the action of the Spencer like the old pro he was and he was only vaguely aware of his friend running behind him. He let off the last of the rifle’s seven and dived back for cover just as a bullet came so close that it took out the heel of one of his boots. He quickly reloaded.
‘Not bad for an old-timer,’ Arkansas shouted back with a cheeky grin and fired off a shot at a man who moments ago had been concealed from view but was now visible besides the porch of the house. The man didn’t even know what hit him and he fell down dead, a hole straight between the eyes.
Arkansas had to hug the ground when fire came at him from the roof of the barn. Holding a hand over his head he chanced a look upwards and he saw the large man who had been at Will’s place with Lance earlier. He noticed Will take down another man who had run out of cover and was trying to rush the old Ranger, but he just wasn’t quick enough.
The man on the roof started running, vanishing from Arkansas’s view for a moment. But Arkansas preempted the man’s plan. And as soon as he appeared at the other side of the barn, directly above him, and popped his head out for a shot Arkansas blew it clean off.
John Lance suddenly appeared in the doorway of the ranch house and took a startled look around. He had a rifle in one hand and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in the other. He pulled the trigger of the rifle and sent a bullet up through his porch.
‘Kill the bastards,’ he yelled, slurring his words. He downed another mouthful of the whiskey and then threw the bottle across the yard. He lifted the rifle and fired wildly at nothing in particular and then vanished back inside the house.
‘Hold your fire,’ someone shouted and then emerged from behind the barn, his arms held high. He was followed by another man, then another and.…
Silence fell.
It was over.
Now all that remained was to get John Lance.
TWENTY-TWO
Arkansas and Will had disarmed the remaining five men, but there was no need; they weren’t going to fight further. Whatever this war was about, they had decided they wanted no further part in it. Jake was dead and they’d just seen their boss acting like a lunatic. There was no reason to fight on.
Will held his rifle trained on the men who, as instructed, were seated, hands under their rumps, against the barn.
Suddenly the peace was ripped apart when all the windows in lower storey of the ranch house exploded and orange flames followed to lick angrily at the air outside.
‘Mr Lance is in there,’ someone shouted.
‘Let the skunk burn,’ Will said. ‘He’s responsible for all this. It’s no more than he deserves and will save the town the cost of a trial.’
Arkansas looked at the ranch house. The flames had completely taken hold and the fire engulfed the lower floors. He wasn’t sure how it had started – perhaps a stray bullet had struck an oil lamp inside the house causing the fire to start and spread rapidly. He thought of John Lance, trapped, consumed by the fire. The suddenly he thought of Rebecca. With everything that had been going on he hadn’t given her much thought.
Was she in there?
‘I’m going in,’ he said and threw down his own rifle. He ran across the courtyard and struck the ranch house door hard with a shoulder. The door gave and when he got to his feet it was as if he could have entered the gates of hell itself.
The room to his left was completely engulfed and he felt his eyes sear as he looked into the raging inferno. Everything else was shrouded in a dense cloud of smoke and he had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand and breathe as little as possible.
He could just make out the stairs in front of him and he ran for them. He reached them and had just started up when he felt someone come at him from behind and before he could do anything about it he was pushed to the floor. He hit hard, the wind pushing from his lungs. He felt his attacker’s hands going for his throat and he brought up his own to break the grasp.
It was John Lance and Arkansas could see madness in his eyes as he tried to push him off. At that moment he realized the man was insane and that he had set this fire himself. He intended to burn along with his empire.
He heard screaming from one of the bedrooms.
Rebecca.
Wherever she was she was unable to get out.
Arkansas tried to break free of Lance but the rancher was a powerful man, doubly so in his mania and Arkansas felt light-headed from the lack of clean air. He was weak and feared that at any moment he’d pass out and burn alongside this madman. He could hear the commotion outside, as everyone had joined together to fight the fire.
They would fight in vain, though. The fire had more than a foothold.
It had a free rein.
Rebecca screamed again, frantic, sheer panic.
Arkansas found a small reserve of strength from somewhere and he managed to lift his knees and use his legs to break Lance’s grip. He kicked out suddenly and Lance fell backwards, down the stairs, into the flames.
Arkansas got to his feet and ran up the remainder of the stairs and took them three at the time. The air was slightly better at the top and he took a quick gulp and ran across the landing towards the screaming.
He found the door and he tried it, but it was locked.
Lance had locked her, his own daughter, in the bedroom and then torched the place.
If ever there had been any doubt of his madness then it had long gone: the man was nothing short of a stark raving lunatic.
Arkansas went at the door with his shoulder. At first it refused to give and he pounded it three more times before the wood splintered and he was able to kick the panels in.
Rebecca came out of the room, coughing, spluttering and fell into his arms.
‘Hold it.’
Arkansas turned and saw John Lance standing besides them. He had a shotgun pointed dead centre of them. Behind him the flames had followed him up the stairs and were now licking at the upper ceiling.
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Arkansas said. ‘We’ll all burn to death. Is that what you want? Do you want your own daughter to die? Come on, man.’
Lance started to laugh, great bellowing guffaws. He threw his head back and roared from deep within his stomach. The shotgun waved about perilously in his hand.
At that moment Arkansas knew that he was looking into the eyes of the devil himself. Lance’s brain had snapped.
There was to be no reasoning with him.
‘
Daddy,’ Rebecca whimpered and buried her face into Arkansas’s chest.
‘Lance’ Arkansas snapped, ‘put the gun down. We’ll all get out of the bedroom window. Now, before it’s too late.’
For one awful moment Arkansas thought Lance was going to pull the trigger, but then they were all engulfed in a shower of sparks as the ceiling above them gave in. Arkansas couldn’t be positive but moments before entering the bedroom he thought he saw the floor beneath John Lance suddenly give way and swallow the man. The rancher had fallen into the heart of the flames, consumed by an inferno of his own doing.
Arkansas dragged Rebecca across the bedroom he’d only moments ago released her from. He moved as quickly as possible to the window and kicked the glass out. It was some thirty feet to the ground below but he had no time to take care with their fall.
The air was becoming so hot that he could feel his skin blistering and Rebecca was like a rag doll in his arms. They wouldn’t survive more than another few seconds before the smoke claimed them and left them for the hungry flames that would not rest until everything within its path had been consumed.
‘Come on,’ Arkansas said and he pulled her up onto the window ledge. ‘We’ve got to jump.’ But she was no longer hearing him. She went limp in his arms. She had fainted clean away and for the second time Arkansas held the unconscious girl in his arms.
Behind him the flames grew stronger and even hotter still. Smoke piled into the room, the broken window providing ventilation and sucking the noxious fumes out into the afternoon sky.
Arkansas held Rebecca to him and together they leapt out of the window.
That was it: it was all over.
Arkansas allowed Will to help him to his feet just in time to see one of Lance’s men lead Rebecca off to one of the outbuildings. He made to go after her but Will held him back.
‘They’re going to take her into town,’ Will said. ‘With her pa gone she pretty much owns half of Red Rock now. I had no idea she was John Lance’s daughter.’
Arkansas smiled and turned back to look at what was left of the ranch house. The structure had now all but succumbed to the greedy flames and, as he watched, the roof caved in and sent a shower of sparks floating into the sky. The building was totally gutted by the fire and for a moment he thought of John Lance trapped within the inferno. He’d be dead by now – no one could have survived in there.
‘Can you ride?’ Will asked.
Arkansas didn’t think he’d picked up any major injuries in the leap from the window; just a few cuts and bruises. His left shoulder ached, but he didn’t think it was broken. And he could feel swelling forming around his eyes. He coughed and gulped in the clean air.
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Then let’s saddle up,’ Will said. ‘Ain’t nothing more we can do here. And I suppose you can say justice has been served.’
‘Of a sort,’ Arkansas said. ‘Of a sort.’
TWENTY-THREE
Arkansas shook Will’s hand one more time and then mounted the sorrel. He adjusted his hat, pulling the brim down to shield his eyes from the fierce sun.
‘I’ll be seeing you.’
‘Sure.’ Will nodded and simply turned and walked back into his cabin. They had said their goodbyes and there was nothing more to be said. Each understood the other.
It had been a week since the fire. John Lance had perished and taken the secrets of his schemes and indeed the full extent of his crimes to the grave with him.
Arkansas hadn’t seen Rebecca since they taken a tumble from the burning house that day. As far as he knew she was staying at her hotel in Red Rock for the time being. She would no doubt need to grieve before deciding on her future.
He had thought about trying to see her but had decided against it. She’d known where he was and if there were anything to be said she’d be able to find him at Will’s place, but she hadn’t come and now it was too late.
He took one last look around and smiled when his eyes fell on the horses in the corral. Will had claimed them from Lance’s own stock, saying it was only fair compensation considering all he had been through. The wind was starting to pick up and although the sun blazed down there was the hint of a coming storm in the air. Winter wasn’t that far off and was already making its presence felt.
‘Come on, girl.’ Arkansas patted the side of sorrel’s head and set her off in a steady trot. He headed across the valley floor, towards the mountains and whatever lay beyond.
By the Same Author
The Tarnished Star
Copyright
© Garry Dobbs writing as Jack Martin 2010
First published in Great Britain 2010
This edition 2012
ISBN 978 0 7090 9886 7 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9887 4 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9888 1 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8889 9 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Jack Martin to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988