Slocum 420

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Slocum 420 Page 3

by Jake Logan


  “Don’t talk to me like that!” she said.

  Spitting out a laugh, Slocum started heading out. “You don’t like it, honey? Here’s the d—”

  The door had barely opened a crack before it was shoved open the rest of the way with the force of a hurricane. Slocum was clipped by the edge of the door, which spun him partially around and knocked him to one side. Eliza screamed and reached for the blanket to pull it up and cover herself with the thick, downy layers.

  “Hello, Lester,” said a tall man who stormed in from the hall to grab Slocum by the front of his shirt.

  Despite his current predicament, Slocum glanced over to Eliza and grinned uncomfortably while saying, “Lester? I don’t know who that—”

  Once again, he was cut off. This time, it was by a fist that slammed directly into Slocum’s nose to unleash a torrent of blood flowing freely from both nostrils. A sickening crunch drifted through the air, followed by a wailing cry as Slocum twisted within the intruder’s grasp like a fish dangling from a hook.

  The intruder gripped Slocum’s shirt with both hands and lifted him to his tiptoes. Following Slocum’s line of sight, the other man spotted Eliza and said, “Get your clothes on and leave.”

  Eliza kept the blanket pressed against her chest as she scooted backward to climb down the side of the bed farthest from the door.

  Shifting his focus back to Slocum, the other man shook him roughly and snarled, “What the hell were you thinking? Using my money to pay for the most expensive hotel room in town along with a whore to join you in it?”

  “I’m not a whore!” Eliza said.

  “Shut up!” Slocum barked.

  The intruder slammed Slocum’s back against a wall and then slapped his hand flat against the twisted, bloody wreck that was Slocum’s nose. “Don’t talk to a lady like that.”

  “Thank you,” Eliza said.

  “Even if she is a whore.”

  “Hey!”

  Whoever the other man was, he wasn’t at all concerned with Eliza’s protests. For the moment, Slocum seemed to have forgotten about her as well. “Explain yourself,” the intruder demanded. “And be quick about it.”

  • • •

  Smiling through the bloody mask that was spreading to cover most of his face, Slocum said, “You know damn well what it’s about. Payback!”

  “Payback for what?”

  “For what you took from me. You stole what was rightfully mine, so I take from you.”

  The intruder let Slocum go and stepped back. When his hands dropped to his sides, Eliza noticed the gun strapped around his waist. The weapon remained holstered for the time being, but the stranger’s hand hung less than an inch above it like a specter of doom.

  “If you had a problem with me,” the stranger said, “why didn’t you come and face me like a man?”

  Slocum used the back of one sleeve to wipe some of the blood from his face. Wincing as he bumped his crooked nose, he replied, “You stole from me like some snake in the grass, which is how I treated you. Ain’t no reason to treat a snake like a man. Just look at you now! Busting in here to hit me when I wasn’t looking!”

  “After what you pulled, you should have been looking over your shoulder every second. But you’re too stupid for that, which is why you got caught with your pants down.” Looking over at the bed, the stranger added, “Or, I should say, almost got caught with your pants down. Hope you enjoyed yourself with my money because the party ends right now.”

  Slocum licked his lips and spat blood. “That’s where you’re wrong, John. The party’s just getting started!” With that, he raised his fists and lashed out with a vicious right cross that had more than enough steam behind it to take a man’s head off. Instead, the stranger leaned back to let the fist pass in front of him before leaning right back in again to snap a jab into the middle of Slocum’s bloody face.

  The next several punches from Slocum were thrown in an angry flurry. Each one was delivered with more power than the one before it, but each one was farther off its mark than its predecessor. In fact, the stranger was cracking a smile as he bobbed his head to avoid one swing after the next. When Slocum tried to knock that smile from his face, the stranger ducked beneath the punch and drove his knuckles deep into Slocum’s gut.

  Wheezing to try and draw his next breath, Slocum shoved the stranger back to create some distance between them. “You . . . still owe me!”

  “You’re damn right I do,” the stranger replied before surging forward to drive his shoulder into Slocum’s chest. Slocum was taken off his balance while backpedaling into a small table bearing an oil lamp on its polished surface. The lamp fell to the floor, shattered, and created a small pool of fire as the wick ignited the spilled oil.

  Even though it pained him to stand up straight and laugh, Slocum did just that. “Guess who’s gonna pay for this, John? The fella registered to this room!”

  The stranger wasn’t shaken in the slightest by the flames that grew to cast flickering shadows on the walls. He placed one foot down behind Slocum’s heels and gave him one jarring shove. As he fell back, Slocum tripped over the other man’s foot. Having been shoved toward the little fire, Slocum’s back slammed against the burning wooden planks.

  “Ow! Damn it all to hell!” he hollered as he leapt almost straight up off the floor and onto his feet.

  “Stop your crying,” the stranger said as he grabbed Slocum once more by the front of his shirt. He picked him up a few inches from the floor and then slammed him down again. The stranger repeated that process a few more times, using Slocum’s back and flailing arms to stomp out the fire before it could spread. When the flames were extinguished, the stranger lifted Slocum a bit higher before letting him go.

  Slocum hit the floor hard and knocked the back of his head. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch!”

  “And you stole from me,” the stranger said. “How big of an idiot does that make you?”

  All this time, Eliza had been gathering her clothes and pulling them on. Now that she was dressed, she looked for a way to get out. There was a window behind her, but crawling out of that and dropping to street level was anything but appealing. If she was to get to the door, she needed to slip past both men as they fought. No matter how distracted the stranger might have been, she doubted he would be true to his word and just let her pass.

  As if sensing the thoughts racing through her mind, the stranger turned toward her and said, “I told you to leave.”

  “Or what?” Slocum asked. “You gonna smack her? You gonna beat on a woman?”

  “I could hear some of what you were saying before I came in,” the other man said. “Not exactly the sort of talk I would call chivalrous.”

  “Shiv-a-what?”

  “You just made my point.”

  Still too frightened to get any closer to the two men, Eliza found herself silently agreeing with the stranger. As she thought back to how Slocum had been acting before the violent interruption, she couldn’t help taking some amount of pleasure from the rough way the stranger tossed Slocum to his feet and gave him a quick jab to the stomach.

  “Where’s the rest of my money?” the stranger asked.

  “Ain’t no more,” Slocum replied.

  “I don’t believe that. Where is it?”

  “You wanna hear me say it again?”

  “No,” the stranger said as he shoved him against the wall. “I want to hear you tell me where the rest of my money is. You couldn’t have spent every dime of it.”

  There was another knock, only this one was on the doorframe and was considerably more timid than the one that had announced the stranger’s presence. A sweaty man with a long face peeked into the room and said, “I must insist that you take any trouble outside.”

  “We’re almost through here,” the stranger said. “Isn’t that right, Lester?”

  Loo
king at the sweaty man, Slocum said, “I don’t know this man and I don’t know any Lester. He’s out of his head!”

  “Should I get the sheriff?” the sweaty man asked.

  Slocum’s eyes went wide, and even though he was still being manhandled by the stranger, he looked at the sweaty man and said, “No! No law. Just get this maniac outta my room!”

  The man in the hall looked just as confused as Eliza felt. The only one who wasn’t puzzled by Slocum’s response to that was the stranger, who had him pinned against the wall.

  “What’s the matter, Lester?” the stranger asked. “Afraid a lawman will take my side instead of yours? Or maybe you’re worried that if anyone looks at your claims more than once, they’ll see right through the horse manure you’ve been expecting everyone to believe.” Turning toward the man in the hall, the stranger asked, “Do you work here?”

  “I am the manager of this establishment,” the sweaty man proudly declared.

  “Why don’t you fetch the law so we can get this straightened out?”

  “Might I ask who you are?”

  “Certainly—”

  The stranger was cut short by a desperate, chopping blow from Slocum. His teeth were bared and his face was red, giving him the appearance of a wild man as he hit and kicked the stranger in a flurry of flailing limbs. The stranger held his ground by tucking his head down and bringing both arms up to protect himself. Even staying purely on the defensive, he was forced to absorb several impacts that slipped past his guard.

  When Slocum ran out of steam, the stranger lowered his hands to reveal a menacing grin. “My turn,” he said.

  With that, he delivered an uppercut that had enough muscle behind it to lift Slocum off his feet. That was followed by a left, which landed in roughly the same spot. Under normal circumstances, that might have been the end of the fight. Indeed, Slocum was doubled over and breathing too heavily to be much of a threat any longer, but the stranger wasn’t satisfied. He planted his feet and began punching Slocum’s ribs as if he were chopping down a tree with his fists. Before long, Eliza and the man in the hall were both wincing with every impact.

  “G . . . go . . .” Slocum wheezed. “Go . . . get the law!”

  “By all means,” the stranger said as he placed a hand flat against Slocum’s chest to prop him up against the wall. “Go get the sheriff so we can get to the bottom of this.”

  The man in the hall was dumbstruck. Although frightened by the spectacle unfolding in front of him, he was also unable to peel his eyes away from the brutal display. When he was finally able to step back from the door, the manager was drawn to the room once again by a frantic, haggard voice.

  “Get me outta here,” said Slocum. “Please.”

  The manager peeked into the room and looked directly at Eliza. “Do you need any help, ma’am?”

  “I . . . think I’m all right.”

  “I told her to leave a few times,” the stranger said. “If she’s hurt, it wasn’t because of me.”

  “Are you hurt?” the manager asked.

  Eliza had been drifting back and forth between excitement, fear, and confusion so many times in the last several minutes that she felt as if she’d run a mile in her bare feet. Now that she’d had a chance to catch her breath, however, she felt her heartbeat slow to something less than a powerful flutter against her rib cage.

  “I’m not hurt,” she said.

  The stranger pointed a finger at Slocum as he said, “That’s a real good thing. Especially for you.”

  Slocum plastered a shaky grin onto his face. “I wouldn’t hurt no woman! Fact is, we were having a real nice time before you came busting in. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

  All three of the men looked over to Eliza, waiting for her reply.

  Reluctantly, she said, “I . . . suppose so.”

  “There now!” Slocum declared. Turning toward the manager in the hall, he added, “I was just mindin’ my own business in a room I paid for, mind you, when this here fellow comes charging in to toss me around.”

  “Is that true?” the manager asked.

  The stranger kept his gaze locked firmly upon Slocum. “This one and I have some matters to discuss. As for the damage, perhaps he’d see his way clear to settling up without getting the law involved.”

  Slocum slapped at the stranger’s hand without moving it away from his chest. Only when the stranger decided to let him go was Slocum able to take even one step away from the wall. Dusting himself off as if his rumpled clothing were the only thing wrong with his appearance, he said, “I don’t think it’s necessary to get the law over here after all.”

  “Are you sure about that?” the manager asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Peering in from the hall, the manager said, “There does seem to be some damage done to the room. I’ll have to insist on compensation for that as well.”

  The stranger smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Mr. Slocum here has plenty of money left over from his lucrative night at the card tables. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Looking very relieved, the manager said, “Well, if that’s settled, I’ll let you gentlemen resolve your issues. We here at the Tall Pine pride ourselves on putting our customers first.”

  “A good policy,” the stranger said.

  “But . . . as I mentioned . . . I will need to receive compensation for damages and it will have to be in a prompt manner.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. One of us will come to the desk real soon to settle up.” Looking to both the manager and Slocum, the stranger asked, “That sound good to everyone?”

  “Yeah,” Slocum sighed.

  The manager clapped his hands together and stepped away from the door. “Excellent! I’ll get started on figuring up a bill for the damages, but I’ll need to have a closer look at the room to determine—”

  “Sure, sure,” Slocum grunted as he reached out to slam the door in the manager’s face. “Whatever you say.”

  The manager spoke a few muffled words which couldn’t be heard from within the room before walking down the hall.

  Keeping his hand on the door handle, Slocum allowed his head to droop. “Perhaps . . . this got a little out of hand.”

  “A little?” the stranger replied.

  “You gotta admit, though . . . you started it.”

  “I don’t have to admit a damn thing.” When the stranger drew the gun from his holster, it was in a motion that was quicker than Eliza thought possible. One second, the man was standing there with his shoulders squared, and the next, he had pistol in hand and was ready to fire.

  Until this moment, Eliza had only seen Slocum as a fighter. From the first time she’d laid eyes on him, he’d had an air of strength about him that she’d found appealing. Even when he’d been on the losing end of the fight with the stranger, Slocum didn’t cave in. That had suddenly changed.

  “It doesn’t have to end this way,” Slocum said in a voice that bordered on a whimper.

  “I’m not the one who decided that,” the stranger replied. “You did that when you stole from me.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “Doesn’t take much of a man to apologize when it’s the only option left to him.”

  “What can I do to set this straight?” Slocum asked.

  “You can start by returning whatever money you got left.”

  Slocum dug into his pockets with trembling hands. Removing a few crumpled bills and some poker chips, he handed them over.

  “Now get to the front desk and settle up whatever bill you’re asked to pay.”

  “But I don’t have the money . . .”

  “I don’t care what you have to do or if you have to scrub floors to make it up,” the stranger told him sternly. “You’ll do whatever it takes. I
f I find out there’s an outstanding balance expected and no arrangements were set up by you or anyone else, I’ll have another conversation with you that won’t end as friendly as this one. You understand me?”

  Looking at the gun being pointed at him caused Slocum’s face to pale. Even though he still wore his own pistol strapped around his waist, he wasn’t eager to reach for it. “I do,” he said without moving a muscle. “Can I go now?”

  The stranger glanced over to Eliza. “What about you, ma’am? Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Does he owe you any money?”

  “No! I’m not that kind of woman!”

  “All right then,” the stranger said to Slocum. “You’re free to go. But remember, I can find you anytime I want.”

  Slocum skulked out of the room without looking back and without saying another word.

  The stranger tipped his hat to Eliza. “Sorry about frightening you, ma’am.”

  After all that had happened, Eliza only had one question. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the real John Slocum.”

  4

  The real John Slocum took his time walking down the hall to the top of the stairs that led down to the Tall Pine’s impressive lobby. Although no room in the hotel was particularly large, each was decorated with everything from brightly colored sconces on the walls to intricately carved patterns in the banisters. Thick carpets on the stairs muted his steps as he made his way to the first floor. He was halfway down when another set of smaller footsteps hurried to catch up to him.

  “Wait right there,” Eliza said as she hurried to get to Slocum while also securing the last of her dress’s buttons.

  Stopping so he could see a portion of both floors, Slocum placed a hand on the banister and waited.

  Eliza seemed surprised that he’d listened to her and nearly charged straight into him as she raced down the stairs. Having overshot him by a step, she hopped back up so she was on equal footing with him.

 

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