Revenge Riders

by Alex Frew

  But even as he threw her onto the bed, the fort was racked by a series of explosions that made the chamber shake and heave as if there were a major earthquake going on. The girl was on her back on the bed now.

  ‘Wait here,’ he grated, hastily throwing off the robe and donning his trousers and jacket before running towards the doors of the bedchamber, throwing them wide and running downstairs. Once he was out in the courtyard, the scene that met his eyes was one of utter devastation. He was just in time to see the walls that he had made the people build crumble away like dust in the wind, while one of the towers was leaning to one side like a drunk after a party. His remaining men, some twenty-odd of them, were milling about the square in total disarray, but Ramirez came striding out to join his leader. He, too, had been hoping for some time off while the mines were being plundered – this, of course, had not happened.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked his leader. ‘Is it the army?’

  Rivero had quickly taken stock of the situation. He had noted that no troops were rushing in after the explosions, and he was a man who knew military tactics – he knew that such troops would have moved in immediately to secure the boundaries of the action.

  ‘It’s not the army, that is obvious,’ he said. ‘Rally the men and get them armed. We go out and face whoever is doing this.’

  Ramirez did not waste any time because, like his leader, he knew that attack was the best form of defence. It was not long before the men were armed and ready to go out of the broken walls, with their two leaders in front, both armed with handguns in their waistbands and rifles in their hands.

  It was Ramirez who had noticed that shooting was occurring on the side nearest the mine, and as his troops emerged he caught sight of the last villagers vanishing over the slope that led to the outputting rock formations above the mine. It did not take great intellect to surmise that someone had arranged the rescue of the villagers; their retreating forms and the dead bodies of his men attested only too starkly to this fact.

  His men did not have to be told, but ran up the slope firing at will with Rivero in the lead. Ramirez, though, did something that on the face of it seemed surprising. He took three of his men and he turned to the land around the fort. There was a reason for this: Ramirez had been on the ground floor and he had heard the shots being fired that had set off the explosions. He knew that others were hiding in the hills. And this was shown to be true, because moment later a series of shots rang out that brought down some of the men who were running to catch the villagers.

  Ramirez ducked behind the ruins with his men, using the jumbled rocks at the foot of the Pinto hills as a shelter for what he had to do. He and his three men waited until they saw the heads of the snipers appearing and shot directly at them. Clay, Holt and Flynn were pinned down; without seeing what they were aiming at they were now worse than useless, and it seemed from the withering fire they were under now that they had been detected and that it would prevent them from helping their companions.

  In the meantime, Rivero was a spitting ball of fury who ran up the slope with the energy of a man who had been denied what was his.

  ‘I’ll kill you,’ he shouted. ‘You will all die unless you surrender. You have served your purpose and you are no longer needed!’ This was not quite true, for although they had dug out a great deal of the gold there was still much left. On the other hand, if he went now then he still had millions of dollars worth of the precious substance.

  Men fell to either side of him but he seemed to have the miraculous ability to dodge bullets, or perhaps it was the fact that he was presenting a moving target. Enough of his men were getting through to the point when they would be able to slaughter the ringleaders of what he saw as a rebellion by the villagers, and he’d gather those who were left and make them work in the mines. A thin smile tightened his lips as he advanced and looked forward to killing those who were getting in his way.

  Ramirez moved forward slowly, holding his rifle to the fore, trying to manoeuvre into a position from which he could shoot more directly and kill at least one of the snipers. Despite the roaring of the troopers running up the hills he was able to hear a sound behind him.

  He turned round and for a moment, influenced by his early upbringing, he wanted to make the sign of the cross followed the words santo le madre de dios, for there was a ghostly figure in white with long shimmering hair coming towards him, seeming to float above the uneven ground towards him, but it was the girl whom Rivero had been meaning to deflower.

  His hesitation cost him his life, for there had been a plentiful supply of weapons left in the camp. She lifted a slender arm and fired a shot from a handgun straight at him. The shot took him in the forehead before he could even raise his rifle, and his face took on an expression of surprise more than anything as the bullet felled him. He pitched forward on to his face and the girl just stood there, an almost dreamy look on her face, and let the gun fall to the ground.

  It was the opportunity that Clay, who had been hiding in the rocks forward of where Ramirez was shot, had been waiting for. He emerged holding his rifle, ignoring the girl for the moment, and ran around the building to where his companions were being held back. It was a good example of how troopers who had been trained in a certain degree of response were not able to cope with changing circumstances. He appeared and felled two of them before they were able to respond, while the two hidden snipers, Holt and Flynn, were able to take out the third man by working together. Holt ran up to the girl.

  ‘Get back into the fort until it’s over,’ he said.

  ‘I killed him,’ she said.

  ‘You saved us,’ said Holt, ‘now save yourself.’ He hurried after his friends who were running after the makeshift army.

  Back in the trees with his father, Ryan had come forward, leaving his father alone but with a gun in his hand. He knew how desperate the situation was. Bert, Aimee and one or two of the villagers were armed with guns they had taken from the dead troops, Scott and Mack had their handguns, while Ryan had his rifle and a Colt shoved into his belt. Then he was aware that there was a figure by his side. It was Hawk and he was walking slowly, grimly, with the determination of a man who was not going to miss out on what he had started. Ryan gave his father a startled look but he did not say anything. They both knew why he was there.

  ‘Get amongst the trees behind me,’ said Hawk to the villagers. ‘Some of you might be able to escape in the country around us. Don’t make it easy for them and don’t stay together.’ They were already running before he finished his words, some of them having already hidden from the so-called troops a while ago. The pass through which they had arrived in this place was one of the places to which they were heading, but it was some distance away. Hawk and those who stood with him did not pay much attention to what was going on as the troops charged over the hill, led by Rivero. Hawk was abruptly face to face with the man who had caused so much disgrace and destruction to the people of Hatton Falls.

  Rivero was a leader who knew another of the same type. He headed straight for Hawk as he came over the slope, a hideous smile on his narrow features. Then he and his men crouched and aimed down at the slope behind the bluff where the people of the village faced them, all bearing their own weapons. More than twenty of the troopers had survived, and they were not men who were about to show mercy to those who were on the verge of destroying their plans to acquire large amounts of gold. In a short time the rancher rebels would be dead and the remaining slaves could go back to their work.

  Except there was a collective shout from the pass through which Hawk and his companions had arrived, and a seemingly endless stream of armed men came through bearing a variety of guns and rifles that more than matched that of the enemy. They were led by a somewhat disgruntled-looking Frank Lamington, who had a wild look in his eyes. The added bodies quickly took note of what was happening and ran forward to join Hawk and his companions, and they were all armed and ready to fire. The bandits were not stupid; they knew that they w
ere now the ones facing death or imprisonment. Some were defiant and stayed where they were, but others broke ranks and fled, because as far as they were concerned they were not going to die for the sake of Rivero and his lost cause.

  Yancey, who had been standing there like a force of nature ready to be unleashed, leapt forward and chased after them, yelling the whole time and terrifying the fleeing men.

  Hawk was the closest to the front and now he ran forward, shouting ‘Rivero! Coward!’ at the retreating backs. Rivero, who had been running with the rest, turned and pointed a handgun straight at Hawk.

  ‘Die, usurper,’ he yelled, but it was the moment Hawk had been waiting for and he had not wanted to shoot a man in the back. He raised his own gun and shot Rivero straight through the heart. The leader of the secret army gave a scream that was more one of rage than pain and kept his gun raised by a supreme effort of will. He began to squeeze the trigger but he need not have bothered, because Hawk pitched forward on his face even as Rivero fell backwards. The Mexican tyrant was as dead as the rocky surface on which he lay.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Later on, the prisoners were enclosed behind what remained of the enclosure, where the gates had remained secure. The wall on the far side was the one that had remained whole, so ironically the place where the villagers had been held was the one area where the bandits could be kept. Some of them had chosen to fight to the end rather than be taken prisoner, running into the bullets of Holt, Clay and Flynn. That still meant about seventeen of the original raiders had been taken, some of them from a hunting party that had not taken part in the actual fighting.

  Hawk lay in the bed that had once been occupied by Rivero, and it was plain that he was far from well. By his side were his men, who looked more than exhausted, needing rest after their privations but determined to see that their boss – and friend – was going to survive. Beside them were his son Ryan, and Abbey, the girl who had stayed by his side, with whom he had defied the guards and whom he had taken a beating for – but they had left her alone after that.

  ‘Where’s Lena?’ asked Abbey, but in a tone of concern rather than jealousy.

  ‘She’s being looked after by Aimee, and so is Bert,’ said Ryan. ‘They’re both doing well, and I have a feeling Aimee is going to look after them both a lot more in that boarding house of hers.’

  The man in the bed lay there, looking as if he were already dead as Scott McArthur and Mack Jardine entered the room.

  ‘Get out,’ said Ryan shortly, but Scott gave a nervous look at the man lying beneath the blankets.

  ‘I know it ain’t going to convince you,’ he said, ‘but he’s my uncle and you’re my cousin. What I did was mighty stupid, and I guess I’m asking you for a chance.’ He looked down and scuffed his feet, and suddenly Ryan had a picture of the young boy he had known. ‘I was going to stick around for the gold, was going to cheat and lie and get it and ride off, but what’s the point? I ain’t ambitious and neither’s Mack; we would waste any money we had in a month and be back to square one. Give us a chance.’

  ‘No,’ said Abbey, ‘they won’t change. Don’t listen to them.’

  Scott looked her squarely in the face, only his flickering eyelids showing how nervous he was. ‘I guess I did real bad by you, Abbey. It was greed and it was chance. I’ll make it up if I ever can.’

  ‘It’s up to you, Ryan,’ said Abbey.

  ‘No, it’s up to me,’ said a sepulchral voice. They all turned to the bed. For the first time since pitching over, Hawk was opening his eyes. He turned his head and groaned a little at the pain in his body.

  ‘Dad!’ Ryan flew across the room to his father’s side. Hawk struggled and with the help of his son managed to half-sit against the pine headboard. Hawk took a drink of water and seemed to gasp for a while, but then he seemed better.

  ‘We’re family,’ he said, ‘every single one of us around this bed. I’m not following your mother, Ryan, I’m staying here and so are these young men. We’ll keep a watch on them, but Ryan, I could see with my own eyes: Scott saved your life, and Mack is just not that strong a boy in the head. If your cousin wants to work, we’ll work him. It’ll be hard, but if he’s telling the truth, we’ll help him.’ He paused and looked around those who were still in his life. ‘We’ve turned from revenge riders to what we were: ranchers, and those cows need tending.’ He coughed again. ‘Sleep’ll do me good, and we’ll build the kind of ranch your mother would have wanted. Abbey, you’re welcome if you can put up with all these men, but we’ll have female housekeepers, too, and you can see the girls in the village any time you want.’

  The girl looked thoughtful. She looked at Scott and he had the grace to look ashamed, while Holt, Flynn and Clay looked paternal.

  ‘All these big men to look after me?’ she asked. ‘And I won’t be the only woman when these guys get married – they’ve all got sweethearts, I’m sure – and there’s always the village, and plenty of work. What have I got in Houston? Slavery and drudgery from my aunt . . . She hated me, you know, because I was young and pretty. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Good,’ said Hawk. ‘Now all of you get out.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ asked Ryan anxiously.

  ‘Damn right I am,’ said Hawk. ‘This is the first real bed I’ve been in for a long time. I’m going to snuggle down, sleep for a day, then get to work with the rest of you.’

  They left, knowing there was a long hard road ahead for all of them, yet in the back of their minds was the gold dug out so laboriously by the villagers. The district was going to be rich. Hatton Falls was going to be prosperous and they all knew Hawk of the hills would make sure the money went to the right places. And people.