Slocum and the Sawtooth Sirens

by Jake Logan

  The door opened slowly with just a slight noise.

  Someone was going to come out.

  Who, Slocum wondered, would it be?

  30

  Slocum stepped away from the wall just enough so that he would have a clear view of anyone coming out of the room. Far enough to see, but not far enough to be seen himself.

  Sumner came out of the room with both hands filled. His guns were held chest high and he was in a fighting crouch.

  He saw Slocum and fired point-bank at him, his barrel pointed at Slocum’s midsection.

  The gun spewed its deadly load as the powder exploded in a loud roar that echoed down the hall and rattled the windowpane near the fire escape.

  Slocum fired his pistol a fraction of a second later.

  He felt a powerful blow and doubled over in pain. He was slammed back against the other wall next to an opposite door.

  Pain flooded his gut.

  He gasped for air as he saw Sumner drop one of his pistols and stagger, wounded, against the doorway. Alvin stepped out a pace and aimed his pistol at Sumner’s left temple.

  He pulled the trigger, his eyes steady and his gun hand even steadier.

  Brains and blood exploded and splattered the door and the frame.

  There was a loud cry from inside the room as Sumner fell back and down to the floor.

  Slocum felt his midsection for blood.

  There was none. He reached behind his belt with his left hand and pulled out his belly gun. His belt buckle was crumpled and had a tattered hole in it.

  The belly gun had a dent in the cylinder. A flattened slug slid down his leg past his boot to the floor.

  Slocum breathed in. He was sore, but he had not been wounded.

  He looked over at Alvin, who silently mouthed, What now?

  Slocum breathed in and rubbed the sore spot on his belly.

  He held up a hand to indicate to Alvin that he should stay put.

  Then Slocum walked gingerly through the door. He stepped over the body of Sumner, who was stone dead.

  At the table, Bledsoe stood with a sawed-off Greener in his hands. He had slobber on his lips and he was shaking like a dog shitting peach seeds.

  “Put the scattergun down, Bledsoe,” Slocum said.

  “W-Where’s everybody? Where’s Pat?”

  “Pat’s dead. So are some of your men.”

  “Who are you? Do you work for me?”

  “Put that Greener down,” Slocum said. His finger pressed lightly on the trigger of his pistol.

  “I ain’t goin’ to. Hear? I—I’ll kill you.”

  Then Bledsoe’s eyes took on a peculiar light as they widened. He backed away from the table, the shotgun still in his hands.

  “You—you’re Death,” Bledsoe exclaimed in fright and horror. “I know who you are.”

  Slocum saw Bledsoe’s finger slip onto the trigger guard and then search like some blind mole for the trigger.

  Slocum fired. Bledsoe’s mad face disappeared in a cloud of smoke. There was a clatter as the shotgun fell to the floor, unfired.

  A moment later, Bledsoe hit the floor with a resounding thud.

  Slocum stepped through the smoke and stood over Bledsoe’s body.

  “Alvin, you can come on in,” he called.

  Bledsoe was dead, a hole in his forehead. The madness wiped away, his glassy eyes staring into nothingness and eternity, fixed in a last stare at what he believed was Death.

  The miners returned to Sawtooth just before first light. They walked through an empty town, down the street and back again.

  They saw none of Bledsoe’s men.

  Madge saw Slocum’s horse in front of the hotel.

  She and Rod walked into the lobby. There was blood on two of the overstuffed chairs. The clerk was rubbing them with a cloth soaked in cleaning fluid.

  He looked up at them.

  “Where’s Slocum?” Rod asked.

  “Room 100. He—he killed two men right here last night and two more upstairs.”

  “Who did he kill upstairs?” Rod asked.

  Slocum stepped into the lobby.

  “Hiram Bledsoe and Pat Sumner,” he said.

  “Oh, thank God,” Madge exclaimed.

  “Where are the men who worked for Bledsoe? We haven’t found any of them.”

  “All gone,” Slocum said. “Except one, who joined me. You’ll meet up with him later, I expect.”

  “How—how did you do it, Slocum?” Rod asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Drive all of Bledsoe’s men out of town all by yourself.”

  “Fear did it,” Slocum said. “Fear and light.”

  “What do mean, light?”

  “They saw the light after I killed Sumner and Bledsoe. You and our friends can go back to your claims. And I cleaned out Bledsoe’s safe. Later, I’ll hand out the proceeds, the gold and money he stole from you.”

  “John,” Madge said, “you’re an angel.” She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Slocum winced. He was still sore where Sumner’s bullet had smashed into his belt buckle and belly gun. He would have to buy a new cylinder for the pistol.

  They kissed and held on to each other.

  The lobby smelled of alcohol and other chemicals. There was just a trace of exploded gunpowder in the scent that still lingered.

  The sun was coming up in the east, streaming light into a town that had suddenly come back to life.

  Sawtooth.

  Back from the dead.

  No longer a ghost town.

  Watch for

  SLOCUM AND THE THUNDERBIRD

  416th novel in the exciting SLOCUM series

  from Jove

  Coming in October!