A Town Called Fury

by William W. Johnstone

  Cyrus Valentine had his wagon out and was gathering up the bodies. There were so many, he didn’t have room for all of them in his undertaking parlor. Jason glanced into the yard behind the building, and shuddered as he saw corpses stacked up in a shed like cordwood.

  “I’ll get to everybody as quick as I can, Marshal,” Cyrus promised.

  “Grab a couple of men to help you,” Jason said. “Tell them I said for them to give you a hand.”

  Cyrus nodded and hurried off to implement Jason’s suggestion.

  Jason moved on to the Crown and Garter. The saloon’s tables had been turned into makeshift hospital beds by spreading blankets over them. A couple of wounded men were lying on the bar itself. Michael Morelli was fishing around in the chest of one of them, evidently looking for a bullet. The doctor’s sleeves were rolled up, and his arms were smeared with blood to the elbows.

  Morelli glanced over as Jason came up beside him and muttered, “This is almost as bad as Shiloh, damn it.”

  “You were there?”

  “That’s right. I was one of those butchers who lopped off arms and legs until the piles of them were so big they almost forced us out of the hospital tent. Lost more than half the men we operated on. But we saved some of them. We saved some of them, damn it.”

  Jason put a hand on Morelli’s shoulder and squeezed. “Do what you can, Doc.”

  “Ah!” Morelli lifted the forceps in his hand and tossed the misshapen chunk of lead he had just removed from the wounded man’s chest into a basin, where it rattled around with at least a dozen more bullets that had been taken out of human flesh. The man on the bar began to breathe a little easier.

  Jason started to move away, but Morelli stopped him. “Marshal,” the doctor said, making a visible effort to control his emotions, “have you seen any of my family?”

  Jason had to shake his head. “Afraid not.”

  “I . . . I saw the house. One of those . . . those bastards must have tossed a torch into it. Some of them had torches . . . they threw them all over town . . . didn’t seem to care what they were burning down . . .” Morelli stopped and passed a shaking hand over his face. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and turned to Alf Blodgett and a couple of other men. “I’ll close up this fellow. As soon as that’s done, you can move him to one of the tables and bring me the next man who needs surgery.”

  Jason left Morelli to go about his bloody business. As he went back out into the street, he saw Carrie Kendall coming toward him, along with Chrissy and the two older Morelli children. Carrie was carrying a blanket-wrapped infant.

  “Is that the Morelli baby?” Jason asked, very relieved to see that Constantine and Helen were all right anyway.

  Carrie nodded. “It is. Constantine got them all out the back of the house when it caught on fire.” She smiled down at the boy. “He was very brave.”

  “What about Olympia?”

  Carrie shook her head. “She sent the children out, but stayed behind to try to save some of Michael’s medical supplies. I . . . I don’t know what happened after that.”

  Jason nodded and glanced toward the smoking ruins of the Morelli house. He was afraid they would find Olympia’s charred remains in there.

  “Take the kids on into the saloon,” he told Carrie. “I’m sure the doc will be happy to see them.”

  Morelli would have to face the loss of his wife, but Jason knew he would carry on as long as his services as a doctor were needed. That was the sort of hombre he was.

  More hoofbeats made Jason look around. Matt MacDonald and some of his men were riding into town. Jason noticed that Bill Rye and the other gunslingers weren’t with them. Matt had a frantic look on his face as he hurried over to Jason and dismounted.

  “We saw the smoke and knew it must be coming from town,” Matt explained. “Got here as fast as we could. Where are Jenny and Megan?”

  “I don’t know, Matt,” Jason said, putting aside at this moment all the hostility and outright dislike he felt for the man. Right now Matt was scared for his loved ones, like everybody else in town who didn’t know for sure what had happened to their families. Jason went on. “I’ve looked pretty much all around the town, and I haven’t seen them. But at least I haven’t found their bodies.”

  “That’s not enough, damn it!” Matt turned to the men who had ridden in from the ranch with him. “Spread out! Find my sister and Jenny Fury!”

  But Megan and Jenny were nowhere to be found, and as the afternoon waned, Jason called a meeting in the marshal’s office—which had been untouched by the outlaws for some reason—with Ward, Saul, Wash, Salmon, Matt, and Dr. Morelli to take stock of the situation.

  The ashes of Morelli’s house still hadn’t cooled completely, but several men had risked burns to sort through the rubble. To Jason’s surprise, they hadn’t found any sign of the doctor’s wife.

  Nor had an exhaustive search turned up several other citizens of Fury. Everyone was accounted for except Megan MacDonald, Jenny Fury, Olympia Morelli, and Abigail Krimp.

  “We got to face it, Jason,” Wash said. “If them women ain’t here in town, dead or alive, then there’s only one thing that could’ve happened to them.”

  Jason looked around at the grim faces of the men and knew they had all reached the same conclusion he had.

  Megan, Jenny, Olympia, and Abigail had been kidnapped. The band of vicious outlaws led by Juan Alba, the Scourge of the Borderlands, had carried them off when they left Fury after the raid.

  And as for where they were taking the women and what fate was intended for them . . .

  Only God knew.

  God, and the devil called Juan Alba.

  Chapter 19

  “What are you going to do, Jason?” Matt demanded in a voice that was taut with strain and worry.

  Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. He was “Jason” again to Matt, rather than the disdainful “Fury.”

  But he couldn’t afford to dwell on things like that. Not with his sister and the young woman he loved in the hands of vicious outlaws.

  “Only one thing to do,” he said as he opened his eyes. “We’re going to go after them and get them back.”

  “That’s gonna be mighty easier said than done,” Wash pointed out. “That gang o’ desperadoes is like a small army, and they’re probably well on their way to the border by now.”

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t care how many of them there are, and the border means nothing to me. We’ll hunt them down, wherever they are.”

  “Just so you know what you’re gettin’ into,” Wash said with a shrug.

  Dr. Morelli leaned forward and clasped his hands together between his knees. Deep lines were etched in his kindly face. “Someone will have to loan me a rifle,” he said. “I’m afraid mine was destroyed when the house burned up.”

  Jason shook his head and said, “You’re not going, Doctor.”

  “Damn it, they have my wife!” Morelli’s voice trembled from the depth of his emotion. “I have to go!”

  “You’re the only doctor in town. You’re needed here. Some of the folks who were wounded may not pull through if you’re not around to take care of them.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but Olympia is more important—” The physician broke off his argument and slumped back in his chair. “You’re right, of course, Marshal. I know you’re right. I swore an oath, and I have to live by it. But at a time like this . . . it’s hard. By God, it’s hard.”

  Ward reached over and squeezed Morelli’s shoulder. “We’ll get your missus back safe and sound, Doc, along with those other ladies. You just wait and see.”

  “You’re not going either, Ward.” That was a more difficult decision for Jason to make, but he didn’t see that he had any choice. As Ward turned a surprised face toward him, he went on. “Somebody has to stay behind to maintain law and order here in town. You’ve got a little experience at that, and you’re wounded to boot.”

  Ward lift
ed his injured arm, which now sported a proper bandage, courtesy of Dr. Morelli. “This little scratch? Hell, Jason, it don’t amount to anything!”

  “It might if it’s not cared for properly. Anyway, I think you’d have to stay here even if you weren’t injured, to look after the town. That bullet hole just makes the decision a little easier.”

  “Easier for you maybe,” Ward muttered.

  “Well, I’m going,” Matt declared, “and you’ll just be wasting your breath if you try to talk me out of it.”

  Jason nodded. “I figured you for one of the members of the posse. What about your men?”

  “That’ll have to be up to them. I can’t order them to go chasing after a bunch of bandits.”

  That made sense to Jason. They would be setting out on a highly dangerous mission. Anyone who went along would have to do so voluntarily.

  “Count me in too,” Saul said.

  “And me,” Salmon added.

  “Both of you have families,” Jason pointed out.

  “And if it was our wives missing, all of y’all would be willing to help,” Salmon said. “We’ve got to stick together, Jason. When those outlaws raided our town, struck at us in our own homes, they hurt all of us, whether we actually took a bullet or got our houses burned down. We’re all wounded in a way, and we got to get the sons o’ bitches who’re responsible.”

  Jason understood what the mayor was saying, and he had to agree. Everybody in Fury had a stake in this rescue mission.

  “All right,” he said. “You’ll need good saddle horses, guns, and plenty of ammunition. Spread the word. Any man who wants to come along should be out in front of the office here in about an hour. The sooner we get on that gang’s trail, the sooner we get those ladies back.”

  He didn’t mention the fear that was uppermost in all of their minds. The outlaws would probably keep moving until they reached their stronghold, wherever that might be, but once they stopped, their thoughts would turn to the women. On the frontier, most men, even hardened outlaws, wouldn’t think of molesting a decent woman. But based on the evidence they had left behind in Fury, the members of Alba’s gang weren’t men at all. They were animals, vicious, unrelenting animals, and they would be fully capable of abusing their female captives, even to the point of death.

  That was why time was of the essence.

  Jason hoped it wasn’t a fool’s errand they were setting off on. On the surface, it appeared to be. He didn’t know how many men he would be able to recruit for the posse, but it was almost certain they would be outnumbered. And they would be facing a highly formidable group of foes too. It was possible they would fail to rescue the women, and might even all die in the process.

  But the risk had to be run. The alternative was to sit back and do nothing, to not even try to make things right, and that was unacceptable to all of them.

  Jason pushed himself to his feet, looked at the grim faces of the other men, and nodded. “Let’s get started,” he said.

  * * *

  Within an hour, approximately thirty men and even more horses were milling around in the street outside the marshal’s office. The extra mounts would be taken along in case anything happened to some of the saddle horses. Also, when the women were rescued, they would need mounts too. Might as well be optimistic about it, Jason thought as he looked over the group.

  In addition to Saul, Salmon, and Wash, several other men from the wagon train had joined the posse, including Zachary Morton, who had ridden in from his ranch north of town. A gunsmith by trade, Zachary was an old-timer with plenty of years under his belt, but he was also tough as whang leather and a good shot. Jason was glad to have him along.

  Alf Blodgett was there too, which surprised Jason a little because the Englishman was such a newcomer to the settlement.

  “This is my home now,” Blodgett replied when Jason questioned his presence, “and an Englishman’s home is his castle! Can’t have those damned barbarians thinking that they can come in here, sack the place, and get away with it, now can we?”

  “What about your saloon?”

  A grin spread across Blodgett’s beefy face. “You mean Dr. Morelli’s hospital? It’ll be fine. My girls will look after the place while I’m gone.”

  “Well, then, if you’re sure, we’re glad to have you.”

  Jason moved on, spoke briefly to some of the other men, assuring himself that everyone was there of their own free will and understood the perilous nature of the mission they were about to undertake. Satisfied that they were and did, he raised his hands to get their attention and addressed all of them.

  “Thank you, men, for turning out. You all know what we’re doing. We’re going to rescue the ladies who were taken from here as prisoners, and we’re going to teach Juan Alba and his gang that they can’t attack the town of Fury and get away with it. I won’t lie to you. Some of us won’t be coming back. If you don’t think this mission is worth risking your life, nobody will think any worse of you if you decide not to go. I know that a lot of you men have wives and children, and you’ll be risking their futures as well.”

  “Stop trying to talk us out of it, Jason,” Saul said. “What sort of future will our families have if they have to live in constant fear of outlaws? If we smash Alba’s band, then lawbreakers will think twice about coming to Fury from now on!”

  Cheers of agreement went up from the assembled posse and the townspeople who had gathered to watch the group get ready to ride.

  A faint smile touched Jason’s face. “All right, Saul,” he said. “I reckon you made your point.” He raised his voice. “Everybody mount up!”

  The posse did so, but before they could move out, someone called, “Riders comin’!”

  An air of tension swept over the crowd. After what had happened today, everybody was scared and suspicious. Even though it was unlikely, the raiders might be coming back for more bloodshed and destruction.

  Instead, as Jason sent Cleo trotting down the street so that he could meet the newcomers, he recognized them as Ezra Dixon and several hands from the Slash D. Dixon reined in and motioned for his men to stop as Jason rode up to him and halted about twelve feet away. Jason spotted several men he hadn’t seen before, including a lean, dark-faced man in black clothing, including a black Stetson with silver conchos on the band. He wondered if he was looking at the notorious Flint Gallister and some of the other gunfighters Dixon had hired for the looming war with Matt MacDonald.

  “What do you want, Dixon?” Jason asked.

  Dixon thrust out his jaw, as belligerent as always. “Heard about the trouble you had here in town. Never would have happened if you hadn’t squatted here in the first place and drew Alba’s attention to you.”

  “You got anything useful to say, or did you just come to be unpleasant?”

  Dixon scowled. “Come to offer my help. I got no use for them damn bandidos. If you’re ridin’ after ’em, me and some o’ my boys will go along.”

  The offer took Jason by surprise. As opposed as Dixon was to the very existence of the town, he had supposed the rancher would be glad to hear about the devastation Alba’s gang had wreaked. But Dixon still had some human feelings after all, it looked like.

  Jason turned his head to look at the man in black. “You’re Gallister?” he guessed.

  The man smiled. “You’ve heard of me, Marshal. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be,” Jason snapped. “Are you coming along too?”

  Dixon answered before Gallister could say anything. “Flint and his pards are stayin’ on the Slash D. I can’t afford to go off and leave the place defenseless. If I did that, those hired guns o’ MacDonald’s would probably move in and take over whilst I was gone.”

  Matt edged his horse forward from the posse. “Damn it, Dixon,” he said, “if you think I care about our feud right now, you’re crazy! Those bastards have my sister and the woman I love!”

  “Yeah, but I don’t believe in takin’ chances,” Dixon replied. “Flint and the ot
hers stay behind.”

  “Then so do Bill Rye and his friends,” Matt said. “I was going to stop by the ranch and get them, but I don’t trust you. I’d come back to find every building on my place burned down and all my stock slaughtered.”

  Dixon just grunted. But he didn’t deny the charge, Jason noted.

  These developments were a little disappointing. Having ten or twelve professional gunmen along would have increased the odds of success against Alba’s gang. But on the other hand, such men could never be fully trusted either. As it was, with the addition of Ezra Dixon and four or five of his regular ranch hands, the posse now numbered almost three dozen men. They would still be outnumbered by the outlaws, but the odds weren’t overwhelming. With a few lucky breaks, the posse stood a reasonable chance of rescuing the prisoners and getting back to Fury alive. Some of them, anyway . . .

  “All right,” Jason said, “if that’s settled, we’ve got an hour, maybe two, of daylight left. Let’s put it to good use. Is everybody ready to ride?”

  All the men nodded, and a few called out agreement.

  “Move out!” Jason shouted as he waved a hand forward. He and Wash took the lead, and he felt almost like he was in command of a military patrol. He had missed out on all the action during the war, but now his time had come. Everyone was relying on him.

  And instead of wondering, as he usually did, whether or not he was up to the challenge, he pushed any doubts out of his head. This rescue mission was going to succeed. He could feel it in his bones.

  The only question remaining was how high a price they would have to pay to get those women back alive.

  Chapter 20

  Megan MacDonald had never been so scared in her whole life. She had seen violence before. She had been there when the Comanches attacked the wagon train and when the Apaches tried to lay waste to Fury. Those experiences had been terrifying, but they had also been so hectic that Megan hadn’t had time for the fear to really soak in on her.

  That wasn’t the case now. The outlaws had visited more death and destruction on Fury than even the Apaches would have. These men were more savage than the so-called savages. And since Megan had been their prisoner for hours now, she’d had plenty of time to think about the perilous situation in which she found herself.