Barkley took her wrist and slammed it against the wall. “Drop it!” he snarled.
Her fingers tightened around the knife’s handle, and she snapped her head forward as if she meant to bite him.
“I said drop it!” With that, Barkley slammed her hand back again. This time, he got her to loosen her grip on the knife and let it drop to the ground. Barkley immediately stepped on the knife to keep it under his boot.
“Real big man,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth. “Harming a woman rather than test your strength against Lester.”
Despite the fact that he knew just how dangerous this woman was, Barkley wasn’t able to get past what she was saying. It became clear that those same words were echoing inside of him as he seemed to be frozen in his spot.
Elizabeth winced and started to heave against Barkley’s strong hands. There were no tears coming down her face, but she was doing enough acting to make it seem otherwise.
“Where are you, Dave?” Barkley asked. When he turned to get a look at where the younger Ranger had landed, Barkley felt Elizabeth’s boot pound against his groin.
Barkley let out a pained wheeze as his grip loosened just a little. That little bit was all Elizabeth needed to tear herself free. Before she could take one more step, she saw Dave reach for her and grab her by the throat.
Although Dave didn’t choke her, he balled up a fist and used it to flatten her nose against her face. Elizabeth’s head knocked against the wall and she dropped to the ground in an unconscious heap.
“God damn,” Barkley said as he struggled to stand up straight.
Dave offered his hand to Barkley and shrugged. “Call me whatever you like, but that bitch tried to kill me. I owed her at least that much.”
Looking over to his partner, Barkley was glad to see a long cut going across the top of Dave’s chest. The cut was bleeding, but it seemed shallow and was a few inches south of his jugular. “I won’t call you anything,” he grunted. “I just wished I could’ve been the one to put her down. What’s that?”
Following Barkley’s line of sight, Dave found the waterskin Elizabeth had dropped. He picked it up and held it to his nose. “Kerosene,” he said.
Just then, both men noticed the smoke coming from the second floor of the house, where Voorhees had been hiding.
“Aw, Jesus,” Barkley said. “Even if we did stop her from pouring that shit along here, this whole street could still go up.”
“You go help the others,” Dave said. “I’ll gather some folks to help put this fire out before it spreads.”
Barkley took the knife from Elizabeth’s hand and picked her up. She wasn’t a big woman, but she was still dead weight and his legs were still a bit wobbly. Before too long, he had her slung over his shoulder and was walking toward the smoking building.
He could hear gunshots coming from that direction, as well as several people shouting from the building as well as the street.
An inferno was sinking its teeth into the town of Kipperway. Barkley prayed something could be done before every dusty building was brought down in the wildfire.
FORTY-FIVE
Clint raised his Colt to fire a shot, but had to duck as Voorhees swung the empty shotgun at him like a club. Before Clint could take another opportunity to fire, the shotgun was being swung straight down at him like a sledgehammer. Clint rolled to one side, turned and fired at the spot where Voorhees had been.
The only problem was that Voorhees was no longer there. Instead, the big man had dashed around to Clint’s left and was close enough to bring the shotgun down in a quick chopping motion that caught Clint on the right forearm.
Although no bones were broken, Clint reflexively let go of the Colt. In the next instant, he reached down for it with his left hand. Voorhees was already swinging at the gun and managed to swat it away by using the shotgun.
When Voorhees turned to show Clint a victorious smile, he caught Clint’s fist dead in the mouth. Voorhees was stunned by the quick punch and blinked to try to clear his vision. As he staggered toward one of the windows of the single upstairs room, Voorhees heard a voice from the street below.
“Right there, Mark!” Henry shouted. “Left window!”
The glass in the window shattered as gunfire blazed up from the street.
Voorhees instinctually moved away from the window and stepped directly in front of Clint. Clasping his hands together, Clint swung both arms up to catch Voorhees in the chin. The big man stumbled, and let out a pained yell when Clint brought both elbows straight down to slam into Voorhees’s arm.
This time, Voorhees was the one who lost his weapon, as the pain from Clint’s blow forced him to let go of the shotgun. Voorhees stumbled away from Clint while wildly swatting at him with both hands.
“He’s at your window now, Henry!” another of the Rangers shouted from outside.
More gunshots from street level tore through the window directly behind Voorhees. A few rounds clipped the big man, adding more wounds to the ones he’d gotten near the other window.
Clint wanted to grab his Colt with the time the others had bought him, but he saw that the pistol had come to rest just inside a patch of roaring flames against the wall.
“You’re dead!” Voorhees said as the fire swelled within the small room. “Even if I die, I’m taking you with me!”
Stomping toward Clint like an enraged bull, Voorhees reached out for him with both hands. Suddenly a few gunshots punched up through the floor and tore into the big man’s leg while also punching a hole through his foot. Even with those wounds, Voorhees made sure to throw himself forward to get ahold of Clint.
Dropping down at the last moment, Clint avoided Voorhees and grabbed the only weapon he could reach. The shotgun may have been empty, but it had already proven to be a good club. Clint jumped to his feet and swung the shotgun so its stock caught Voorhees in the small of his back.
The big man staggered forward a few more steps and let out a yelp as his hands and arms were forced into the fire. He tried to turn away from the blaze, but caught another blow in the shoulder.
Clint swung the shotgun so hard that he felt the strain in both shoulders. It bounced off Voorhees’s muscled torso, as well as some of the flesh wounds the Rangers outside had given him. Voorhees made one last lunge toward Clint, but landed on the foot that had just been shot.
Seeing the big man stumble and lose his balance, Clint extended both arms to stab the shotgun directly into Voorhees’s stomach. It took another push, but Clint finally shoved the big man into the fire that had grown to consume half of the room.
Voorhees screamed and flailed as the fire enveloped him. Soon, his screams died away and his melting body thumped to the floor.
Since the entire building was creaking and filling with smoke, Clint made one last dash across the room to a spot close to the top of the stairs. He bent at the knees and swept the shotgun against the floor to knock his Colt out of the flames. The pistol was charred, but not beyond repair. The iron burned his hands a bit, but hadn’t been in the flames long enough to do any damage.
With the Colt wrapped in the bottom part of his jacket, Clint lowered his head and ran down the stairs before they collapsed. Talman was waiting there to guide him through the smoke and out the front door.
“I heard that bastard stomping around up there and thought I’d lend a hand,” Talman said after getting outside. “Hope I came close to hitting him and not you.”
Clint hacked up a few breaths and then filled his lungs with fresh air. There was a bucket brigade forming and they were waiting anxiously nearby.
“You did great,” Clint said to Talman.
Talman nodded and turned his head so he could spit his tobacco without coming close to getting any on Clint’s foot.
“Is that son of a bitch dead?” Henry asked.
“Yeah,” Clint replied. “If that didn’t kill him, nothing will.”
“All right,” Henry shouted to the bucket brigade. “Let’s get to work!”
The fire didn’t look so bad from outside. Clint caught his breath and then joined in with dousing the flames before they spread. Even after the fire was out, he found himself standing in the street to wait for one last attack from Voorhees.
It didn’t come.
“Great job, Adams,” Henry said after the building was a smoking shell. “You ever need anything next time you’re in Texas, you let me know.”
“Will do,” Clint replied. “Now, you’d better get yourselves back in your own jurisdiction before there’s hell to pay.”
“What about you? We could use a man like you.”
Clint looked across the street at the milling crowd and spotted Belle among the curious faces. He saw her smile at him, and he waved to her and said, “I think I’ll stay here. I could use a bath.”
Watch for
DYING WISH
314th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in February!
Wildfire Page 15