Texas Vigilante

by Bill Crider

  It looked that way to Ellie, too.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” she asked.

  “Back to the church, maybe,” Brady said. “I don’t know why he’d do that, though.”

  “He might not know anyone’s still there,” Ellie said. “He might think it’d be the last place we’d look for him.”

  “Well, he’d be wrong about that, wouldn’t he,” Brady said.

  “Do you think you can make it back there?” Ellie asked.

  “I can make it.”

  “You don’t look like it.”

  “Lady, I’ve seen men hurt worse than I am walk ten miles while they were carrying a saddle on their backs.”

  “I hope you don’t think I believe you.”

  “I didn’t think you would. But you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that.”

  “I guess we will,” Brady said.

  THIRTY-SIX

  As he neared the church, Hoot heard an owl away off in the distance.

  “Owl’s been huntin’,” he said. “Got him a rabbit, prob’ly.”

  Laurie said she didn’t care.

  “I don’t blame you. Rabbits don’t matter much when you think about it.”

  The moon was nearly down, and Hoot figured it must be around two or three o’clock in the morning. He stopped his mule and listened. He couldn’t hear anything at the church, but he could see that there were some horses out front. There was no light inside.

  “Guess they’re all asleep,” he said. “I kinda hate to wake ’em up.”

  He didn’t hate it at all. He was looking forward to it, no matter how many of them there were. He counted four horses. If they were from the same bunch that he’d met up with earlier, he knew he’d shot three of them. Maybe they weren’t dead, but they weren’t going to be dancing any jigs, either. He figured that with the shotgun and the pistol, he had the advantage on them.

  Except of course for the girl. He had to do something with the girl, and he already knew that she had a habit of yelling out when she got the chance. So he wouldn’t give her the chance. He turned the mule and rode into the trees.

  When he got well away from the church, he said, “We’re gonna rest here for a while.”

  “I thought you said we were going to the church.”

  “We are. But we’re gonna rest first.”

  Hoot swung down from the saddle, and reached up for Laurie, who immediately lunged the other way. She slipped off the mule and hit the ground running.

  She might have escaped, but Hoot was too quick for her. She got no more than a couple of steps from the mule before he caught up with her.

  “I was afraid you’d try something like that,” he said. “Now I’m gonna have to tie you up.”

  Laurie struggled and tried to jerk away. She opened her mouth to scream, but Hoot slapped a hand over it.

  “I knew you’d try that, too,” he said.

  He hoisted her writhing, kicking body under his arm, keeping one hand over her mouth, and carried her to the mule.

  “I’m gonna move my hand now,” he said. “If you yell, I’ll have to hit you.”

  Laurie didn’t yell. Hoot pulled his wet bandanna from around his neck and stuffed it in her mouth.

  “That prob’ly don’t taste too good, but it’s what you get for yellin’. Now I’ll have to tie you up.”

  He rummaged in a saddle bag until he found a piece of rope. Then he carried Laurie to the nearest tree and tied her to the trunk.

  “Don’t you go runnin’ off while I’m gone,” he said when he was finished.

  Laurie tried to say something, but the bandanna muffled her voice.

  “Don’t you worry about bein’ out here by yourself, Laurie. Nothin’ will bother you, and I’ll be back before too long. Then we’ll have us a time.”

  He gave her what he thought was a reassuring grin and left her there.

  Laurie waited until Hoot was out of sight before she started struggling with the rope. He had shoved her hard against the tree when he tied her, but she had taken a deep breath and tried to expand her chest. When she let all the air out, she thought she could detect a slight loosening in her bonds.

  While she contended with the rope, she also tried to push the gag from her mouth with her tongue. It was wedged in too tightly for her to do much with it. She told herself that she would take it out just as soon as she got free from the rope. Then she would call Miss Ellie. She knew Miss Ellie wasn’t dead, no matter what Hoot had said. Miss Ellie was still looking for her, and she’d come to find her.

  The rough bark of the tree scratched Laurie’s back, and it was tearing her nightgown, but she didn’t let that bother her. She was going to get away, and that was all she allowed herself to think about.

  Hoot stopped the mule about fifty yards from the church and looped the reins around a tree branch. The four horses were still in the churchyard.

  Hoot checked the shotgun to make sure it was loaded. He figured that if the people inside the church were sleeping, he could just walk through the door and kill them before they woke up, two of them with the shotgun and two more with his pistol.

  It was going to be messy, but that didn’t bother Hoot in the least. It would probably bother Laurie, though, and Hoot didn’t like that. He didn’t want to get her upset. Maybe he could get whoever was in the building to come outside. That way things wouldn’t be quite so bad.

  In fact, it would be better if they came out the back door. That way, there wouldn’t be anything for Laurie to see when Hoot returned with her.

  He started to circle the church, going through the little cemetery. The moon was almost down, and the headstones were black lumps sticking out of the ground. Some of them leaned at crazy angles, and some had tumbled over. Hoot was careful not to trip over them. He didn’t give a thought to whoever might be resting beneath the ground. As far as he was concerned, the dead had nothing to say to the living.

  When he got to the back of the church, he felt around on the ground until he came up with a couple of small rocks. Then he threw them at the door. They made a two solid thumps and bounced away.

  Hoot grinned and picked up another rock.

  Shag Tillman had been drowsing, back against the wall, but the noise brought him instantly awake. He looked around the dark interior of the church. He could see the shadowy shapes of Harry Moon and Sue Tolbert. Both of them were sleeping soundly. Harry was snoring gently, but that wasn’t what Shag had heard.

  Fred Willis’ body was on the other side of the church. He wasn’t likely to have made any noise.

  There was another thud against the back door. Somebody was outside. Shag didn’t really want to see who it was.

  On the other hand, he didn’t know that he had much choice. He stood up and checked his pistol. Then he pulled off his boots. He didn’t want to make any more noise crossing the floor than he had to. Maybe it was just Ellie Taine out there, or the Ranger, but Shag didn’t think so. They wouldn’t be tapping on the door. They’d just come on inside.

  Shag wished he was back in Blanco, asleep in his own bed. He wished he’d never taken the marshal’s job. He hadn’t counted on getting into such a mess as this one, where he’d most likely have to use his gun.

  Shag didn’t much like his chances in any kind of a gunfight. It wasn’t that he couldn’t shoot. He could shoot all right. He wasn’t any sharpshooter, but he could hit what he aimed at, most of the time.

  Trouble was, what he’d always aimed at was nothing more than a prickly pear or a jackrabbit now and then. He’d never pulled a trigger on anybody who could shoot back, and he didn’t want to have to start now.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t anybody else around to do it for him. One of the others was dead, and the other two might as well be for all the good they could do him.

  Too bad Ellie Taine wasn’t there. She had enough gumption for the both of them. She wouldn’t mind one bit being in the fix Shag was in. W
ell, she wasn’t there, and that was just the way it was. Shag had already admitted to himself that night that he was a damn coward, but at least he’d come back to the church. Now he was just going to have to go over to that door and see who was outside.

  Or maybe there wasn’t anyone out there now. Maybe he’d been hearing things. Maybe he could just settle down and go on back to drowsing.

  There was another thump on the door.

  Damn, Shag thought.

  He started across the floor of the church, sliding his feet along, trying not to make a sound. When he reached the door, he stood to one side of it, his back to the wall, and jerked it open.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  As soon as the door came open, Hoot fired both barrels of the shotgun before he realized there wasn’t anyone standing in the doorway.

  “God damn,” he said, and then he heard horses.

  Turning, he saw two riders coming out of the trees and heading toward him. He looked back at the church.

  Shag Tillman was standing in the doorway now, and he fired a shot that ricocheted off the ground at Hoot’s feet and whined away into the darkness.

  Hoot cursed himself for having worried about making a mess in the church. He cursed himself for having left the mule so far away.

  He dropped the shotgun and drew his pistol, taking a couple of quick shots at Shag, hoping to give him something to think about if not kill him, and then he started running through the graveyard, jumping over the stones that were in his way.

  The two riders were firing at him now, and Hoot could hear the bullets whizzing by. One of them chipped off a chunk of gravestone and sent it flying into his cheek.

  His head jerked aside, and he took his eyes off the stones. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air.

  He landed on his stomach, slid a few yards, then sat up, firing his pistol at the riders.

  And laughing. Damn, but he was having fun.

  Something slammed into his side, knocking him over against one of the tombstones. Hoot righted himself and fired again and again. He kept right on pulling the trigger even after the hammer was clicking on empty cylinders, and he kept right on laughing.

  Shag Tillman waited until the shooting had stopped before he went outside. His knees were a little weak but he couldn’t help that. He wasn’t used to being shot at. He was careful to look around the corner of the church before he revealed himself to whoever was out there.

  “Is that you, Miss Ellie?” he said.

  “It’s me,” Ellie answered from the graveyard. “Are you all right, Shag?”

  “I’m not hit. But I think I winged somebody before you rode up.” Shag knew he hadn’t winged anyone, but he thought he might as well try to make himself look as good as possible. “Is he out there?”

  “He’s here, and he’s down. Come on over here and help me with Mr. Tolbert.”

  Shag stepped around the corner. He could see that the Ranger was sagging in his saddle, about to fall. Miss Ellie was standing by her horse, looking down at someone.

  “Who’s that on the ground?” Shag asked.

  “The one they call Hoot. He’s been shot in the side and the chest, but he’s alive. Don’t worry about him. Help Mr. Tolbert into the church.”

  Tolbert looked just about done in to Shag, but the Ranger said, “I can make it all right.”

  “You let Shag help you,” Ellie said. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  She was holding a shotgun, and she nudged Hoot none too gently with the barrel. Shag was glad he wasn’t in Hoot’s place right about now.

  “Where’s Laurie?” Ellie asked.

  Hoot didn’t answer, and Ellie jabbed him in the chest with the shotgun barrel.

  Hoot moaned.

  “Don’t kill him,” Brady Tolbert said. “Then you’ll never find the girl.”

  “I’m not going to kill anybody,” Ellie told him. “But he might wish he was dead before long.”

  Shag helped Brady off the horse. The Ranger could hardly stand. He had to lean heavily on Shag.

  “Come on,” Shag said to him. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “I’m not going anywhere just yet. Not until I find out where Laurie is.”

  Hoot made a noise that was halfway between a moan and a laugh.

  “Well, you ain’t gonna find out from me,” Hoot said. He paused, coughed, and then continued. “I’m the only one that knows, and I ain’t tellin’.”

  “You’ll tell,” Ellie assured him. She jabbed him again with the shotgun.

  “Ahhhhhh,” Hoot said. “That hurts. But it feels kinda good, too. Do it again.”

  Ellie took a step backward, and Hoot started laughing.

  “The son of a bitch is crazy,” Shag said. “Pardon my language, Miss Ellie.”

  “Let me talk to him,” Brady said.

  Shag helped the Ranger walk a little closer to Hoot. Brady looked down and said, “Listen, Hoot, I’m a Texas Ranger. I can’t make you any promises, but the law might go a little easier on you if you tell us where the girl is.”

  Hoot choked off his laughter. “The hell with the law. I’m not gonna live long enough to have anything to do with the law. As far as I’m concerned, that little girl can die out there in the woods.”

  “She’s out in the woods, then?” Ellie said.

  “Did I say that? I don’t rightly remember where she is. Maybe I threw her in the river.”

  “You didn’t go anywhere near that river,” Ellie said. “Shag, get Mr. Tolbert inside and then go look in those woods over there. Find the mule this man was riding, and then try to backtrack it.”

  “What about you?” Shag asked.

  Ellie looked at the man on the ground.

  “I’ll see if I can help Hoot remember any better while you’re looking,” she said

  By wriggling up and down against the tree trunk, Laurie had managed to loosen the rope so much that it finally slipped down below her waist. When that happened, she was able to get her arms loose, remove the gag from her mouth, and throw it on the ground. Then she forced the ropes down to her feet.

  She stepped away from the tree and stood quietly for a moment, trying to get her bearings. That was when the shooting started. Laurie knew it must be coming from the church, and she started to run in that direction.

  Within a few minutes she burst out of the trees not far from where Hoot had tied the mule. There was no shooting now, and Laurie could see the little church with the horses in front. And she could see someone in the cemetery.

  It was still dark, but Laurie knew immediately who the person was.

  “Miss Ellie!” she yelled. “Miss Ellie!”

  Ellie looked up and saw Laurie running toward her.

  “I don’t guess I’ll be needing your help, after all,” she told Hoot.

  “Goddamnit,” Hoot said. “Nothin’ ever works out for me.” He groaned. “But at least I won’t live to go back to that prison.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Ellie said. “You might hurt for a while, but you won’t die, and you’ll go back to prison for sure.”

  “Goddamnit,” Hoot said, but Ellie had turned away.

  “Here I am, Laurie,” she called. “Here I am.”

  In seconds, Laurie was in her arms.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Angel dragged himself out of the river and lay on the bank. He’d managed to grab hold of the log and let it give him a ride until it had hung up in the rocks not fifty yards from the church. The water was shallow enough there for Angel to get to the bank without being pulled under again, and after he got his wind back, he stood up and took stock.

  He was soaked through, and his clothes clung to him so that it was hard to move. His hair was plastered around his face. He didn’t have his pistol, he didn’t have his mule, he didn’t even have his hat. He sat down and shoved his hair out of his eyes. Then he took off his boots and poured the water out. Reaching into his right boot, he discovered that he still had his knife. He hefted it in his hand, liking th
e feel and the weight of it.

  When the shooting started at the church, Angel flopped on his stomach. He saw the two riders coming out of the trees and cursed under his breath. That damned Brady Tolbert was still alive. And the woman was with him.

  He saw that they were firing at someone who was running near the church. Hoot. It had to be Hoot, who, as Angel watched, fell to the ground. He was up on his knees and shooting immediately, but then he was hit and down again.

  Looked like it was all over for Hoot, not that Angel really cared. Hoot hadn’t been a hell of a lot of help to Angel earlier, and it was clear that Hoot hadn’t felt enough loyalty to Angel to try to find out what had happened to him.

  Angel waited to see what would happen. One of the riders dismounted, and a man came out of the church. There was some talk that Angel couldn’t hear, and the Ranger was helped off his horse. Soon after that, he and the other man went back to the church. The woman stayed with Hoot.

  Then Angel heard Laurie calling out to the woman, who turned to her with open arms. Angel squeezed the handle of his knife. It was time for him to make his play.

  He covered the ground between himself and the cemetery in a crouching run. No one saw him. The woman was too busy hugging the girl, and Hoot was lying down.

  When Angel reached the first gravestones, he knelt behind the largest one. He tried to figure out just exactly where Hoot was. He couldn’t have been too far away from the woman’s horse, so Angel duckwalked in that direction.

  He found Hoot easily. Hoot must’ve heard him coming because he was looking straight at him. Hoot had been shot, but his hearing hadn’t been affected.

  Angel put a finger to his lips, and Hoot gave a slight nod that Angel hardly noticed. His attention was on the woman and the girl.

  “They told me they killed my daddy,” Laurie was saying.

  “They were lying,” Ellie said. “Your daddy’s going to be just fine.”

  “What about my mother? Uncle Angel says she’s dead.”