Blood at Sunset (A Sam Spur Western

by Matt Chisholm

  Morrow said: It looks like we’ll have to change our play, Gaylor.’

  The sheriff was deep in thought. He raised his head and looked at Tyson.

  ‘An’ what has what’s in the mine any thin’ to do with this?’ he asked.

  Tyson said: ‘It points to the fact that you killed Rube Daley.’

  Another silence.

  Kruger lifted his gun from leather.

  ‘You jest got yourself killed, little man,’ he said.

  Morrow added: ‘We kill ’em all, Wayne.’

  It was out in the open at last.

  Gaylor said: ‘You damn fool, Tyson. Why didn’t you keep your goddam loose mouth shut?’

  ‘Because,’ Tyson said quietly, ‘I wanted you to say what you just said in front of Mr Cornwall there.’

  ‘It ain’t goin’ to do anybody any good with you all dead,’ Gaylor reminded him.

  Tyson smiled.

  ‘But Spur’s not dead,’ he said.

  Gaylor gestured toward the door with a jerk of his head. ‘Take ’em all outside, march ’em into the mine an’ kill ’em. We’ll pack the stuff out of here tonight an’ cross into Mexico. We blow up the mine.’

  Kruger turned and put his gun on a couple of frightened townsmen.

  ‘Put your guns on the floor,’ he said.

  ‘Anybody moves,’ Cornwall said, ‘and I’ll blow his head off.’

  They turned their heads and looked at him. They saw the cocked Colt in his hand.

  Morrow fired.

  Cornwall’s gun went off once and clattered to the floor. His head fell back with a small hole in the center of the forehead.

  There was silence in the cabin for a moment, and they all stood stunned by the thunder of the guns in the confined space, the townsmen appalled by the sudden violence. A man standing near the door was the first to recover himself and fully realize the terrible danger in which he stood. He turned, wrenched open the door and launched himself outside.

  Kruger lifted his gun and fired.

  The fleeing man was no longer in sight of the other men in the cabin. But they heard his shriek as the lead smacked into him. They heard his body fall.

  Kruger and Morrow at once turned their guns on the other townsmen and there was no doubt that they would have fired if a sudden commotion had not broken out in front of the cabin. Gaylor had given orders for the horses to be put out on grass, but nobody had carried the order out. The men were reminded of this now by the whole of the posse’s horses taking off like one animal. They headed down the trail, the sound of their flight fading rapidly.

  Gaylor and his men were in instant action, leaping for the door, any violence they intended to offer to their fellow possemen immediately forgotten. The doorway was jammed with struggling men. Even as they fought their way out, a shot sounded and the lamp went out with a crash of glass.

  Morrow, out in front of the cabin, fired off to the left and shouted that the marksman was over there.

  Gaylor shouted: ‘Jim, Stace, go git them hosses.’

  Neither seemed enthusiastic as a gun crashed from the darkness and a bullet hit the wall of the cabin.

  Gaylor shouted: ‘There’s only one man there. Fan out and circle, men. We have to have him.’

  ‘What about Tyson and his pals?’ Golite demanded.

  ‘They’re in the cabin still,’ Morrow said. ‘Kruger, you’n’me’ll settle their hash.’ He turned to return to the cabin as the rest started running for cover and circling the spot where they had spotted the gunflash. Morrow heard the cabin door slam. He cursed and fired furiously at the wood. A shot came back and brushed past his shoulder. He didn’t like that too much and, as another shot followed the first, he turned and ran. As soon as he was in cover he realized that his rifle was on his horse. For that matter, most of the posse’s rifles were still in their boots.

  The rest of the gunmen were fanned out, making their way cautiously forward using all the cover they could find. Hank Shultz was on the left flank, working his way through the rocks, climbing to get above the marksman.

  The hidden gun was now silent.

  Shultz reached the trees and ran from trunk to trunk. He could hear the other men calling to each other to make sure that nobody shot a friend by mistake. Shultz didn’t like working in the dark. One of those damn fools below might pick him off. They were all trigger happy right this minute. He didn’t know where the man he stalked was. His nerves were on edge.

  When he heard a twig crack near him, he whirled and fired.

  The next moment, the gun was struck from his hand, a knee came up in his groin and he was on his back screaming with pain. He saw the dull glitter of steel and felt a sharp point at his throat. He stopped screaming and gave up the ghost.

  A voice: ‘Get on your feet and start climbing.’

  My God, he thought, Spur, I’m a dead man.

  But he wasn’t a dead man. He was on his feet, walking, doubled forward with pain, feeling the knife pricking his back when he stopped. The voices of his comrades faded away behind him. It was silent under the trees, his feet made no sound. He could feel the cool mountain breeze against his cheek.

  After a while, Spur said: ‘Stop.’

  Shultz stopped and something hard landed on the back of his head. He was unconscious when he hit the ground. When he woke up a short while after, his head hurt like hell, he was tied hand and foot and there was a gag in his mouth. He felt cold, unhappy and frightened. He listened, but he could hear nothing but the wind in the trees. He wondered if anybody would find him or if he would die here on the hillside.

  Spur circled the cabin and came in from the west. He knew that Gaylor and his crowd were not in the cabin, for he could hear their voices as they called to each other. He knew from their voices that there was consternation if not panic among them. He knew also that the men in the cabin were opposed to them for shots came from the cabin and were returned against it.

  He took considerable risk in squirming his way to beneath the westerly window. Here he called to the men inside, telling them who he was. He was feeling a little more capable of looking out for himself now as he had Shultz’s ammunition.

  From the window above his head, he heard a voice -

  ‘There’s three of us in here on our feet. They killed the marshal.’

  That shook Spur.

  ‘Now you know I’m innocent,’ Spur said.

  ‘Certain sure.’

  By God, Spur thought, I have to keep these men dive. They’re between me and the rope.

  ‘Stay put,’ he said. ‘Leave the rest to me.’

  Big talk. He hoped he could live up to it.

  ‘Do you want any help?’ Tyson asked.

  ‘Not so’s you’d notice.’

  Somebody fired a rifle out in the darkness and a bullet slammed into the cabin wall near his shoulder. He turned and hared through the dark till he reached the trees. Lead clipped leaves and twigs as he went. He didn’t wait around, but started to work his way south. He reckoned that most of the gang were in the rocks to the east.

  Before he’d covered a dozen yards, he froze.

  ‘Spur.’

  He dropped and lay still.

  ‘Sam.’

  He cursed softly and vehemently to himself. He rose to his feet and walked between the trees. A dark shadow rose to meet him.

  ‘Can’t a man get any privacy in this world?’ he demanded.

  Ben chuckled.

  ‘You think you can outsmart me?’ he demanded. ‘You made enough noise when you left camp to wake an army. You left a trail a kid could follow.’

  ‘Now you’re here,’ Spur said, ‘you might as well lend a hand.’

  ‘I already did it,’ Ben said. ‘Morrow’s down. The Kid’s crawling around over yonder someplace.’

  ‘You mean you brought him too?’

  ‘Wild hosses wouldn’t stop him.’

  ‘An’ the girl?’

  ‘Aw,’ said Ben carelessly, ‘she’s around. Real woman that.
A man could do wuss.’

  They started making an arc toward the east, going carefully. They’d covered maybe a hundred yards when Spur felt a light touch on his arm. Ben was signaling that there was a man ahead, They split up, one going one way and the other another. They found the man with a rifle shooting at the house. Ben clubbed him with his gun-barrel. They took his weapons and left him. They went on. Pretty soon they heard voices. They dropped to the ground and listened. At first, Spur could neither recognize the voices nor hear what was being said, but there came a lull in the shooting and he heard: ‘We built up a good thing here, boys, You can’t run out on me now. I ain’t goin’ to let you.’

  That was Gaylor. He was pleading.

  Golite’s voice came - ‘I thought you was the tough big wheel, Wayne. You ain’t nothin’ but a blowhard. Use your head. You’re all washed up. Cut your losses and git while you’re still breathing. That Spur’s sure loaded for bear.’

  ‘You’re stay in’,’ Gaylor cried.

  Golite shouted: ‘Take that fool gun off me, man. That won’t do you no good.’

  A gun roared.

  A man cried out and went down.

  Tabor’s voice said: ‘Let’s git outa here.’

  Undergrowth crashed. Spur rose to his feet and ran forward. Ben wasn’t far behind him. Spur sighted two shadowy figures ahead of him. He pulled up and called: ‘H’ist ’em.’

  Almost as soon as he spoke, muzzle-flame stabbed the darkness. He felt the rush of the bullet and fired low. From beside him, Ben’s gun hammered twice.

  He heard Tabor shout: ‘Hold your fire. I quit.’

  There was the smell of burned powder on the air.

  Spur said. ‘We’re comin’ in, Tabor. You try anythin’ an’ we cut you down.’

  When they got close, they found Tabor standing with his hands above his head and Golite lying on the ground, holding his leg. Spur and Ben searched them, tossed their guns into the brush. They stood and listened. Silence hung over the mountain.

  ‘Watch ’em, Ben,’ Spur said. ‘Kill ’em if they cough even.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ said Ben.

  Spur worked north through the trees and came to the open shelf on which the cabin stood. He stayed still, listening, trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes. There was no sign of life anywhere. He wondered about the girl and the Kid. He stayed where he was for ten minutes. Then he gave two whistles. There was a short silence, then he heard two from his right. He gave another and received one in reply. He worked his way east through the undergrowth.

  ‘Kid.’

  ‘Here.’

  They met and the Kid said: ‘That sure was a lulu while it lasted. I was kinda hindered by my leg.’

  Spur said: ‘You did fine, Kid. Where’s Juanita.’

  ‘I am here.’ She came out of the darkness and put an arm around him. Somehow he found his left arm around her. She felt nice there against his side. It wasn’t often a man found himself in a fight and a girl’s arms all inside fifteen minutes.

  ‘We’ll risk goin’ to the cabin,’ he said. They headed out of the trees and walked toward the cabin, hailing it as they went. A man came out of the place and called to them to come on in. It proved to be Tyson.

  ‘My God,’ he said, ‘that was some fight while it lasted.’

  Spur walked into the cabin and saw the wounded men lying there, gazed for a moment on the dead face of his senior officer and drew the blanket up over it. He saw that one of the wounded men was Roily Damon. He said to him: ‘I hope you didn’t get your tongue hurt none, Damon. You’re sure goin’ to use it.’

  ‘I ain’t sayin’ a thing,’ the gunman said.

  ‘We have Golite, Tabor and Shultz,’ Spur said.

  That shook the gunman and Spur added: ‘And Gaylor too, if he’s still alive. Golite shot him.’ The wounded man looked as if he had received the death sentence.

  The utter tiredness he felt came home to Spur. Standing there with Cornwall dead near him, he wanted to do nothing but lie down and sleep. He told the Kid to rest his leg and watch Damon. Then he took the possemen up the hillside to where Shultz lay trussed. He cut the bonds on the man’s legs and heaved him to his feet, telling one of the men to take him down to the cabin. He led the other two men down the hill to where Ben stood guard of the two deputies. He was wary, for there were a number of gunmen unaccounted for, but nothing happened and he concluded that they had seen the light and departed. Certainly, there was nothing for them here with Gaylor down.

  He found the sheriff lying on his back with a bullet through his heart. He didn’t mourn for him. A few minutes later and they were escorting the two deputies back to the cabin. Shultz was sitting on the floor. His gag was off and he was talking. This might have been because the Kid was kneeling in front of him with a naked knife in his hand.

  Tyson said: ‘I reckon this makes you a free man, Mr. Spur.’

  ‘I have to thank you men,’ Spur said. Without you we’d never of done if.

  Tyson smiled.

  ‘If you hadn’t spooked those horses at the right minute, there’d of been a massacre here. I never came nearer to Judgment Day.’

  ‘What about me?’ said the Kid. ‘Don’t I git no thanks.’

  ‘Well, Kid,’ Spur told him. ‘I didn’t thank you because I reckon you was kinda family.’

  The Kid didn’t know what to say. He looked at Ben and saw he was grinning

  ‘Aw, hell,’ the Kid said.

  Spur walked outside. The reaction was setting in. Too many men had died for his liking. It had been an untidy and bloody way to finish. He stood there and felt the cleansing mountain breeze. From inside the cabin, he could hear the murmur of the men’s voices.

  A hand softly touched his arm and, turning, he saw Juanita standing there.

  ‘It’s all over,’ he said in Spanish.

  ‘Now you will go away,’ she said.

  ‘Not for a while,’ he told her. ‘There’s this case to tidy up. George Stronger, Cornwall’s first deputy, will have to come down here from the capital. There will be a lot of legal wrangling. Could take a month.’

  Her teeth were white in the gloom as she smiled.

  ‘You will be a guest at my father’s house.’

  ‘I daren’t risk it, Juanita,’ he said. ‘I’m promised and you’re too beautiful.’

  She wasn’t put out.

  ‘Then I shall make you break your promise.’

  ‘You could do it too easily.’

  ‘That makes me very happy.’

  ‘You’re a shameless hussy.’

  ‘This game I play, my friend,’ she told him, ‘has no shame and no pride.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a game,’ he said. ‘It sounds like a war.’

  She came around to face him, looking up at him, large-eyed.

  ‘If it is war,’ she told him, ‘I intend to strike the first blow this very minute.’

  She raised herself on tiptoe and did just that, with her mouth. He had never liked warfare more in his life. He threw himself joyously into the battle. You’re a faithless sonovabitch, Spur, he told himself. The Kid looked through the doorway and saw them. Over his shoulder to Ben, he said disgustedly: ‘It ain’t fair. That Spur gits everything.’

  You’ve reached the last page.

  But the adventure doesn’t end here …

  Join us for more first-class, action-packed books.

  Regular updates feature on our website and blog

  The Adventures continue…

  Issuing new and classic fiction from Yesterday and Today!

  More on Cy James/Matt Chisholm

 

 

 
ale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share