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Kill Crazy

Page 26

by William W. Johnstone


  Recognition dawned in Shannon’s eyes. “Your pa’s the bull o’ the woods down that way an’ you got a brother, Jacob. Big man, plays the piano real good.”

  “My father, Colonel Shamus O’Brien, is the biggest rancher in the territory,” Shawn said, his face stiff. “As for my brother, Jake, he plays the piano among other things.”

  “He’s a rum one, all right, is Jacob,” Shannon said. “I was there the night he killed Everett Wilson down Austin way. You heard of him?”

  “Yes. I’ve heard of him.”

  “Wilson was no bargain.”

  “So Jake told me.”

  “Judging by your kin, I reckon you’re a gun slick, O’Brien. Strange thing in a man who doesn’t carry a pistol.”

  “You should be in Yuma, Shel. But I don’t see you carrying chains.”

  Shannon nodded. “You have a quick wit, O’Brien. Well, I don’t know how long you’ll live, but you call me Shel Shannon just one more time and your life ends right here.”

  “So what do I call you, besides son-of-a—”

  “You call me Brother Uzziah. Get it right next time, O’Brien, or I’ll kill you.”

  “What do we do with them?” Brother Melchizedeck said.

  His eyes still burning into Shawn’s face like branding irons, Shannon said, “Take O’Brien and the gambler to the prison. They’ll be put to the question later.”

  “And the girl?”

  “The hotel. Once the church service is over two holy and righteous women of the town will examine her for the witch’s mark.”

  “Brother Uzziah, look!” one of the other men yelled. He pointed to a rock ridge above the town where a man sat a white horse in front of a stand of aspen.

  Shannon scanned the ridge, then screamed, “Damn him! Damn him to hell!”

  He threw his Winchester to his shoulder and levered off several shots at the rider on the ridge. The man didn’t flinch.

  “Is it him?” Shannon yelled, lowering the rifle. “Is it the shifter?”

  “It’s him all right,” Melchizedeck said, a strange, stricken fear in his eyes. “It’s Jasper Wolfden as ever was. He’s come back from the grave.” Then, “My God, Uzziah, look at that!”

  The rider leaned from the saddle and hefted a long pole that seemed heavy for him because of the human head stuck on the axe-shaved point.

  “Who is it?” Shannon shrieked. “Damn you, whose head is that?”

  “It’s Mordecai,” a young, towheaded brother said.

  “Are you sure?” Shannon said, his voice ragged with near hysteria. “Damn you, are you sure?”

  “Yes, it’s Brother Mordecai. I can make out the black powder burn over his left eye.”

  Shawn studied Shel Shannon. The gunman was a cold-blooded killer, lightning fast on the draw and shoot, but his hands trembled and he continually swallowed as though his mouth was filled with saliva.

  “He’s a shifter,” Shannon said. “You can’t kill a shifter.”

  His eyes keen, Shawn directed his attention to the horseman on the ridge.

  The man held his macabre trophy high. By the look of the head, its late owner had died recently. Shawn guessed within the past couple of hours.

  He had no idea who Jasper Wolfden was, but dead men don’t sweat. Dark arcs showed in the armpits of the man’s shirt and his hat had a salt-crusted stain around the crown.

  Wolfden had not returned from the grave, but spook or not, shifter or not, he’d put the fear of God into Sheldon Shannon . . .

  . . . a man who didn’t scare worth a damn.

  PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2014 J. A. Johnstone

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off. The WWJ steer head logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  ISBN: 978-0-7860-3346-1

  ISBN-10: 0-7860-3346-0

  First electronic edition: April 2014

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7860-3347-8

  ISBN-10: 0-7860-3347-9

  Notes

  1 MacCallister, The Eagles Legacy.

 

 

 


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