The Shadow of Armageddon

by LeMay, Jim

  As they reached the opposite corner, though, dark figures attacked them from the shadows. One dropped from a tree. Though armed with clubs and tools, there were a lot of them, a dozen or more, and the two fell without getting off a shot. The figures melted back into the darkness. Chadwick’s two men lay where they had fallen. Without their weapons.

  “That’s our guys!” she said excitedly. “Maybe....”

  Whatever she was about to say was cut off by a barrage of gunfire from across the street. Not from the houses occupied by Matheson’s men, but from behind a low stone wall in the yard next to one of them. One of Chadwick’s men in the middle of the street fell, and the others turned to fire at the new threat.

  The sound of a Kreutzer joined the gunfire from the stone wall, undoubtedly the one just taken from the Chadwick man. More gunfire came from down the street in the opposite direction, out of their field of vision. Chadwick’s men began to retreat toward the house Matt and the girl had just abandoned.

  “That’s your guys,” he said. “Those we can’t see down the street.”

  “Yes. They’ve been stealing guns from looters they could ambush.”

  Probably including Matheson’s four in the back yard, he thought.

  And then, incredibly, the gunfire ended. In answer to shouted demands from down the street beyond Matt’s hearing (still not completely recovered from the grenade blast) the few survivors of Chadwick’s gang stood in the middle of the street with their arms raised and their weapons at their feet. Similarly, remnants of Matheson’s gang emerged from one of the houses across the street. There were less than twenty of both groups altogether.

  Man, did I ever underestimate these Columbia folks, thought Matt with admiration.

  A new danger now faced the townspeople; fire from the burning houses had started to spread. Ominous crackling sounds emanated from inside the house they crouched beside.

  Then he realized that he faced a very real danger of his own: The townspeople were looking for gang members on whom to vent their rage. He turned to the young woman.

  “You’ll be okay now. I got business elsewhere.” She grabbed his sleeve as he turned. “Wait. I’m so sorry. I haven’t thanked you for getting me out of there.”

  “I owe you more than that. Your young man saved my life.”

  “Yes. My Phil.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she also bore a look of pride. “But you’re hurt. You can’t leave.”

  “I have to, dear. But thanks.”

  “So – so Phil really did kill Boss Chadwick.”

  “Yes, and saved my life at the same time. And, by the way, the rival gang leader, a guy named Matheson is also dead. I saw someone kill him.”

  “I’ll tell everyone. But what’s your name and where are you from? I want to know who he saved.”

  “Jerry Jordan. I’m from over Newcastle way.”

  “My thanks, Mr. Jordan. Everybody’ll hear about Phil’s courage and about Jerry Jordan.”

  He left. He had to make it to the place where he had loosened the boards in the south fence without notice by the townspeople. Then it was only an hour’s hike to fetch Lady.

  * * * *

  The first glow of dawn touched the eastern sky as Matt approached the little creek where the horses were waiting, saddled and ready to go. He stopped a safe distance away and called out to the two who had been left to guard them, “Friend coming in.” Then he approached, rifle over his shoulder.

  The two youths stepped out of a thicket, regarding him curiously.

  “Where – where’s the others?” asked one.

  Matt shook his head. “They won’t be back. We ran into trouble.”

  “Chadwick ...?” started the other.

  “No. We took care of his men okay. It was the townfolks. They came after us. They’re choppin’ people up, hangin’ ’m. Columbia won’t be a good place for our kind to visit anymore.” That should discourage them from returning to Columbia. He continued on toward Lady. The young men followed.

  “What – what do we do?”

  “What’s gonna happen to us?”

  Panic quavered in their young voices.

  “What I’m going to do,” said Matt as he patted Lady’s neck and checked her saddle girth, “is to get as far away from here as fast as I can. I’d advise you to do the same.”

  “What about all the horses and truck?”

  “They’re yours, except for some food.” He went to the supply of food stacked near the pack animals, took up a bag of beans, some salt pork, and a few other items, and filled Lady’s saddle bags. He was famished – he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten – but he wanted to be far away before he stopped to eat. “I suggest you take the horses and truck back to Stanley Market while it’s still in session, sell it for as much as you can, and learn to do something else for a living. Start a farm or buy a business – a nice tavern, say – and settle down with a nice young woman. Live a safe quiet life.”

  The boys seemed to think about it. One said, “You got a farm, doncha?”

  “Uh – oh yeah.” Matt had almost forgotten that he was farmer Jerry Jordan. “And I’m headed back there right now. Good luck.” He mounted, stiffly and painfully. His butt reminded him how much it hated this mode of travel.

  He turned Lady east through the underbrush, to complete his delayed journey to Nellie’s Fair.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  John had a lot to think about, and he badly wanted to discuss the young preacher’s disturbing sermon with Matt, especially the part about the Beast being on earth right now preparing for this horrible final battle. He wanted to know what form it would take. A battle that could rock the earth’s foundations seemed terrible indeed and was impossible to envision. Matt could give him a logical perspective that he sensed none of the other gang members could, not even Lou and Mitch, or others outside the gang that he otherwise respected, like Billy and Bernie.

  Saturday, the last day of the market, was busy so he could occupy his mind with work, but it rained off and on so his mood remained somber. The rain seemed almost an augury of the tremendous battle to come, Armageddon. For the first time, the market didn’t stay open after dark. Bernie told John the market slowed down about this time anyhow, about the end of the second week. The scroungers, farmers, artisans, and traders had disposed of their goods, and many out-of-town farmers went home, though none of the scroungers and traders usually left yet. The traders stood to make one more round of profits from the scroungers. The latter would end up with a lot of bartered goods from farmers and artisans that they would want to sell for nellies or scratch. The traders always brought a good supply of cash to the market for this purpose.

  John hung around in the bar for awhile listening to guests exchange tales of their travels and other lies. Since Bernie’s patrons, who didn’t have to work the following day, always turned too boisterous for his comfort on Saturday nights, he went up to his room early. He tried reading one of Matt’s books, the Decameron, but couldn’t see how anyone could find interesting such flowery prose and descriptions that tended to go on and on. He gave it up after awhile to reread some of Mowgli’s adventures. As he read, hearing a storm grow wild outside and sounds of the roisterers drift up from the public rooms made him glad to be safe on his cot with his book.

  It rained in a desultory fashion the next morning while John helped Luke clean up the public rooms. They were in worse shape than usual – there were even a couple of broken chairs – and John felt sorry for Bernie trying to keep the peace down here the previous evening. Bernie did look pretty beat up when he came down. He saw to fixing the chairs himself; pre-Last Days furniture was too precious to lose in bar fights.

  Mitch told the gang that Billy Kane had called a confab of all the traders and gang leaders in his room to be held that afternoon. He wanted to hear everybody’s opinion about the threat Chadwick posed for the area and what, if anything, should be done about him. For example, should the gangs organize to drive him out, perhaps
with allies from Nellie’s Fair? Mitch said the gang would hold their own confab in the evening to discuss results of the meeting with Billy.

  It quit raining in early afternoon while John swept the front porch. As he finished, the sounds of an approaching rider – shod hooves scrunching gravel, a horse snorting, leather creaking – drew his attention to the other side of the clearing. He looked up to see a rider slumped over a plodding mare, his lowered face obscured by his hat’s broad brim. Both were rain-soaked. And obviously exhausted. When the man brought the mare to a stop at the foot of the steps leading up to the porch, John was already there to grab the mare’s bridle. The man looked up wearily but with a smile of recognition and said, “Hello, John Moore.” It was Ruben Garcia, one of the men who had taken Billy’s cattle to Columbia.

  “Why Ruben, hi!” said John with some surprise, though he was too shy to ask what the man was doing here.

  “I – I’ll take care of your horse.”

  Ruben looked surprised to see John.

  “I work for Bernie.”

  “Do y’ now?” said Ruben. “Well, I bet y’ do him a good job. Me an’ Daisy’d be much obliged if y’ did settle her in. An’ I got some big news t’ tell Billy an’ your boys ’bout the doin’s in Columbia.”

  After Ruben dismounted, John led Daisy to the nearest vacant stable. His curiosity at Ruben’s strange statement – big news about doings in Columbia – made caring for her seem to take forever. But he rubbed her down and fed her with as much thoroughness as he would have otherwise; Bernie must never find him wanting in diligence.

  When he finally finished in the stable and entered the bar, he saw a crowd standing and milling about, apparently too excited to sit at the tables and bar stools they crowded between. Only Ruben Garcia seemed to be sitting, and at the crowd’s center, somewhere near the bar. John could hear his quiet voice occasionally among the rare lulls in the animated conversation but couldn’t see him for the crowd, which consisted of most of the scroungers and traders still at the market, and a few locals and farmers. He hung around impatiently at its periphery. He could hear Mitch, Lou, and Wild Billy near the center of the group, but the press of people precluded his reaching them. Not that they would want to be bothered by a twelve-year-old kid just now, he figured, in any case.

  Then he saw Annie Austin, the Pike County Dykes’ boss, squirming out of the crowd to join two of her gang members who had just entered the room. The two women, looking rather perplexed at the commotion, bombarded Boss Annie, as everyone called her, with questions. She led them by their arms to the relative quiet of the dining room, telling them to shut up and be patient and she’d tell them all she knew.

  John followed quietly and stood just outside the doorway.

  “Ruben had some pretty interesting news about Columbia,” said Annie, “potentially great news. Said he and some of Billy’s boys were driving cattle to Columbia early Friday morning. When they got close to town, they saw about thirty or forty folks camped along the road, mostly women and kids and old folks. He stopped and asked what they were doing there.

  “They said someone attacked Chadwick’s headquarters last night with rifles and explosives of some kind. They figured it was the guy Chadwick was feuding with, Matheson. Chadwick’s men beat the other gang off at first, even after they set the house afire. Chadwick’s men kept the fire under control for awhile. These women’s men finally decided to take matters into their own hands. They sent the women and kids and some too old or sick out of town and went after both gangs.”

  She paused, noticed John, gave him a broad grin, and beckoned him to join them. “Come on in kid – what’s your name? John? – you have as much right to know what’s going on as anybody.” To her women she said, “You’ve seen John around. He works for Bernie.

  “Anyhow, while they were talking to the townsfolk, Ruben said a couple of men came from town, looking pretty beat up but up-beat at the same time.” Boss Annie smiled at her weak play on words. “They brought their folks and the Kane men up to date. Said they attacked the gang surrounding Chadwick’s house first, killed four of ’m in Chadwick’s back yard and then some across the street in another house. They were having trouble getting to the ones in Chadwick’s house though because they had them out-gunned. Then the fire in the house got out of hand and Chadwick’s men started pouring out the front door shooting. It seems the fire blocked all the other ways out of the house. Matheson’s men fired back from across the street. The townfolks had been collecting weapons from the dead gang members all along. They were better armed now and there were fewer gang members. They fired at both gangs from down the street. Sounds like it was a free-for-all for awhile.

  “Anyhow, it was finally over. Only a few gang men were left to give up; most lay dead or had run off. They didn’t see any sign of Chadwick or Matheson though so they might still be on the loose. By the way, they knew for sure the attackers were Matheson’s gang by then because they recognized some of the dead. Some Columbia men had been killed and quite a few injured. They didn’t know how many yet.

  “Then the biggest problem got to be the fire. Chadwick’s house and two across the street caught fire during the fight. Then it spread to other houses. They fought it for the rest of the night. They only got it out just before the two guys came to tell the women the news and that it was safe to return home.”

  It sounded grisly, but John realized immediately that the gang’s most pressing problem had been solved.

  Annie continued: “They told the Kane men the market was closed for the season, but Ruben said deals had been made to sell the cattle and goods for some had already been exchanged. He sent his men on into town with the cattle and came to Coleridge Gardens as fast as he could. He knew Billy and everyone else would want to hear the news as soon as possible.”

  One of the women said, “You and the other bosses was just confabbin’ ’bout what t’ do ’bout Chadwick, wasn’t you?”

  “Yes. We came down from that confab in the middle of Ruben’s story. He was happy to start all over though. You know how folks love to gossip. Especially when they have such good news.”

  “They finished themselves off for us,” said the other woman. “I’ll just be damned.”

  “Let’s don’t be so sure yet,” said Annie, “till we hear more from the front lines. Nobody saw the bodies of Chadwick or Matheson.”

  This gave John something else to worry about. He wished Matt were here more than ever. He waved thanks rather shyly to the women and ran back into the bar. Bernie and one of the women, Lovey, were busy drawing and serving beer. When Bernie had a moment between thirsty customers, John asked him, “Matt didn’t have to go by Columbia on his way to Nellie’s Fair did he? Isn’t he about due back?”

  “He not only didn’t have to go by it, he planned to make a long detour around it. And no, he isn’t due back yet. He didn’t leave until last Monday. He won’t be back until next Tuesday night, maybe Wednesday. And that’s if everything went okay. He may have holed up yesterday because of the rain. Matt knows his way around. I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you.

  “Ruben says you took care of his horse. There’s really nothing else for you to do today so go ahead and have supper with your gang. No sense waiting till the ladies and I eat.”

  And Bernie returned to drawing beer.

  * * * *

  Mitch called a confab after supper in their room. “In case you ain’t heard,” he said, “our biggest threat may be taken care of. We don’t know for sure yet.” But everyone had heard of the conflict in Columbia so he didn’t repeat it. “We know the townsfolks was successful at wipin’ out or chasin’ off the last a their men, but we don’t know if Chadwick or Matheson’s still on the loose. If all that’s true, we don’t no longer have t’ leave the state. Not ’less we want to. That’s what we need t’ talk about t’night.”

  “We need t’ find out for sure that Chadwick’s dead,” said Doc. “If any asshole could come back from the grave, he’d be it
. An’ Matheson too. He was some kinda trained military killer like Boss Johnson. Let’s decide what t’ do oncet we know that.”

  “Wild Billy’s gonna do just that,” said Mitch. “Him an’ his boys sold all their stuff and packed up t’ go home yesterday. They only waited ’round for this confab ’bout Chadwick today. Tomorrow Billy and Ruben ’ll head down t’ Columbia. His other boys’ll go back t’ Kane’s Cove. Now that things ’ve had a chance t’ settle down in Columbia, Billy an’ Ruben ’ll be able t’ let us know what really happened there. Folks in that country know an’ trust Billy.”

  “This whole thing seems mighty peculiar to me,” said Lou. “A feud between Chadwick and his most trusted man doesn’t make sense. In any case, I think we oughta make for Colorado whether he’s alive or dead. I think it’s time for a change of country.”

  “No,” said Stony. “For oncet Doc’s right. We need t’ find out the status a Chadwick’s an’ Matheson’s vital statistics afore we decide anything; they seem too o’nery t’ just up and die like that. But if they’s sure ’nough feedin’ the worms, I think we oughta stay here. We know the towns an’ markets. I, for one, am gittin’ too old t’ pull up stakes an’ start over.”

  “I’m ’fraid Stony makes sense for a change,” said Doc. “One a these days I ain’t gonna be able t’ go truckin’ no more. Now that we don’t have the stash t’ count on, we’re gonna have t’ be more diligent in puttin’ a little away t’ward that day. I don’t want t’ spend what little stash I got traipsin’ out t’ country I don’t know.”