by Neil Hunter
The man grinned, showing yellow teeth that were stained with blood. “Maybe I don’t know anybody called Jude.”
“Suit yourself,” Brand said and stood up. “I’ll find out.”
The man tried to sit up. The effort was too much and he fell back, coughing harshly, “Where the hell you goin’?”
“Up there,” Brand said, gesturing toward the high peaks.
“Damn it, mister, I’m dying.”
Gathering his horse’s reins Brand swung into the saddle. His face was bleak as he looked down at the man. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said and rode on.
As he topped the next rise the man’s cursing stopped abruptly. Brand urged his horse on. He did not look back. A while later he reined in at the mouth of the valley that led off from the slope he had just climbed. The deep rift stretched before him, wide and silent and deserted. He spent long minutes studying the terrain before he rode in. This seemed to be the only access to the next section of the mountain. Somewhere in the valley he would find the way.
He pushed his horse faster now, giving the animal the opportunity to run after all the hard going.
Elizabeth’s image filled his mind. He wondered if she was all right. Despite his original intention not to become involved he was concerned. He was just as worried over her safety as he was determined to get Lobo.
His mission was Lobo. Brand hadn’t forgotten that. It was just that circumstances had diverted him from his main objective. It might turn out that the half-breed was now aware of the activity in the area. If he was Lobo would stay in the background, watching and waiting until everything was in his favor. It was the way the half-breed had built his reputation. By remaining cautious. Evaluating each set of circumstances before committing himself. And then striking when least expected.
Brand’s eyes were drawn to a set of tracks. He judged they were no more than a couple of hours old. They ran ahead of him along the valley floor. The line of travel told him he had been right. This was the way out of the valley. He pushed his horse on, seeking the place that would allow him to climb to the higher slopes.
The tracks told him something else. Unless he had read them wrong it seemed certain now that Elizabeth had met someone. And Brand felt even more certain that someone had been Preacher Jude.
Just what was Jude up to? What was he looking for in these mountains? More to the point — who was he looking for?
Brand was sure it was Lobo. But for a different purpose.
The rattle of distant gunfire broke the silence. It came from ahead of Brand, higher up the valley. Among the shots was a sound Brand recognized.
The heavy boom of Jude’s big Sharps.
The firing continued in fits and starts.
Brand reached the far end of the valley and saw the narrow defile that had to be the way out.
The continuing gunfire was loud now, echoing between the rocky walls of the valley. Brand dismounted, taking his rifle. He led his horse to a sheltered spot at the mouth of the defile, then slipped in himself. Edging around a tall outcropping of shattered stone he looked along the defile. It was narrow, twisted, the sides almost sheer. The floor was strewn with debris and lay in shadow except for a few odd patches of bright sunlight.
Brand moved along the defile, the Winchester cocked and ready. His eyes searched the way ahead, and he found himself wondering just what he was going to find.
Chapter Ten
“Damn it, preacher, I didn’t count on this!”
As Jude glanced across at Kimble. He kept his own anger under control. He admitted to himself that he hadn’t expected to become trapped by Lobo himself. It wasn’t supposed to work that way. Jude didn’t panic. They were in a tight spot right now, but that would change. He had total confidence in his own ability. He’d crawled out of worse spots than this, and he’d do it again.
Lobo had picked his place well. The narrow defile was ideal for an ambush. Once the breed had opened fire they had been forced to vacate their saddles quickly, finding what cover they could among the tumbled rocks that littered the ground. Lobo himself was high overhead, able to take his time picking his targets. One of the problems Jude and Kimble were finding was the bright sun that struck them full in the face. It made pinpointing Lobo difficult, even though he was constantly moving back and forth along the cliff top.
The half-breed had kept them pinned down for a couple of hours now. Only a stroke of luck had allowed them to reach cover before one of Lobo’s initial shots had struck home. Lobo’s first shot had struck Kimble’s horse, burning it across the flank. Since then a steady exchange of fire had taken place, neither side hitting anything. Jude knew that Lobo was in the best position. They were safe as long as they stayed under cover. If they made a break he could pick them off easily. He had them trapped and he could keep them under his waiting gun for as long as he wanted.
Kimble was aware of the situation too. The realization angered and frightened him. He was stuck behind a rock with no place to go. Sitting with his back to the rock wall he digested the facts. On the one hand there was Lobo, a half-breed crazy man, just waiting to blow his head off. Then there was Jude. The more he thought about it the more he was convinced Jude was just as crazy as the breed. What with all his damn bible spouting. It was Jude who had talked Kimble and Parrish into joining in this stupid hunt for Lobo. The promised one third share of the reward money seemed a long way off to Kimble now. The way things were changing he wasn’t going to get much out of this deal.
Unless!
Kimble thought about the girl. She had ducked under cover the moment the shooting started. Now she was huddled in a cleft of rock. Kimble could see her, but he couldn’t get to her. He glanced in her direction, eyeing her boldly, and deciding that his first appraisal of her had been right. She was a good looking female. She would be worth taking. Kimble realized she would put up a hell of a fight — but that was all part of the game. The hell with a passive woman who didn’t resist. Kimble liked his ladies to have spirit. He began to feel uncomfortable, aware that it was his desire for her that was doing it. There she was. So close — and unattainable. He silently cursed the man called Lobo. His anger gathered suddenly and he raised his rifle, emptying it at the cliff top, blinking his eyes against the dazzling sunlight.
“Save your ammunition!” Jude yelled across the gap that separated them. “He wants us to panic. Hold back your anger lest it makes a fool of you!”
“Jude, shut your goddam mouth!” Kimble raged. “I am mighty sick of listening to that horseshit you keep peddling. You’re no more a damn preacher than my horse’s ass!”
“Brother Kimble, I will overlook your words,” Jude droned tonelessly. “In your desperation you are not responsible for your words.”
“Shit, you goddam fake!” Kimble screamed. He jabbed a finger in Jude’s direction. “Damned if I can figure why I let myself get talked into comin’ up here. Christ, I could be back in Gallego, sharing that Mex woman’s bed, and having a hell of a time. What the hell am I doing stuck halfway up a mountain being shot at by a loco half-breed? Jude, you must be crazy if you think we’re goin’ to collect that reward. Ain’t nobody ever going to stop that breed.”
“No!” Jude thundered. His control was slipping now, anger forcing its way to the surface. “You are weak, Kimble. Undeserving of my generosity. I promised you a share of the reward. I picked you and Parrish off the streets of Gallego when you had nothing!”
“Well ain’t that the horse’s ass! Jude, you pissant, it don’t make no difference how big that reward is if we’re all dead.”
Jude’s face darkened. Almost without conscious thought he swung the big Sharps in Kimble’s direction, his finger easing back against the trigger. Kimble held his stare, sensing Jude’s wild state, well aware that he was close to death. He gripped his own rifle, bringing it to bear on Jude. He wasn’t about to let Jude get away with such a move ...
And then Jude turned the rifle’s muzzle away from Kimble, directing it at a point be
hind the man. A second later the heavy crash of the Sharps filled the defile, the noise thunderous in the close area.
Kimble twisted about, his eyes seeking Jude’s target. He picked up a moving figure. A tall man, dark haired and clad in dusty trail clothes. He was strongly built, his brown face strong boned and determined. As Kimble focused on him he saw the man throw himself to one side as the .50 caliber bullet exploded savagely against hard rock, filling the air with stone chips.
“Brand!” Jude yelled. “It’s Brand!”
So this was Jason Brand! A thought occurred to Kimble — if Brand was here he must have got by Parrish. And the only way he would have done that would have been by killing him. A seething rage boiled up in Kimble. He had partnered Parrish for a long time. Now this man had most likely killed him.
Kimble forgot the danger that lurked overhead. It slipped from his mind as he shoved to his feet, lifting his rifle to line it up on the distant figure of Jason Brand.
Kimble didn’t hear the bullet that killed him. His finger was already pulling back on the trigger when something struck him a terrific blow at the back of his skull. As the initial impact was still registering, the bullet that caused it — driving down from the cliff top — tore its way through flesh and bone and into Kimble’s brain. The expanding chunk of lead caused terrible and terminal damage. Kimble experienced a moment of white hot pain before darkness swallowed him. He was dead before his body struck the ground.
Even while Kimble was falling Jude, his Sharps reloaded, forced himself to remain calm. He turned by reflex, swinging up the heavy gun. For once Lobo had exposed himself more than usual, and his own bulk partially blocked out the bright glare of the sun. Jude located his target, held the figure for a fraction, then touched the trigger. The big Sharps kicked back, the muzzle blasting flame and smoke, spitting a massive .50 caliber bullet out at tremendous speed.
Overhead the dark shape jerked sideways, stumbled for a moment, then straightened up and vanished from sight.
Jude felt a surge of excitement. He didn’t know how badly — but he knew he’d hit Lobo. He had done what no other man had ever done. He had put a bullet in the half-breed. He smiled to himself. The reward suddenly wasn’t so far out of reach after all!
Chapter Eleven
Confusion reigned. Brand used it to his advantage. Seeing Kimble go down, his skull blown apart by one of Lobo’s bullets, and Jude’s swift reaction, he saw his own — fleeting — opportunity.
While Jude was attempting to reload Brand ran along the defile. He had already spotted Elizabeth, and she had seen him. Before he could warn her to stay put she came out from cover and moved to meet him. Her action placed her between Brand and Jude, blocking Brand’s clear shot at the man.
Jude became aware of Brand’s closeness. He made a strangled sound deep in his throat, turning to face the advancing lawman. Abandoning his attempt to reload his rifle Jude gripped the Sharps by the barrel, lunging forward.
Brand, unable to use the Winchester because of Elizabeth, closed in fast. He shouldered Elizabeth aside roughly, ducking under the swinging Sharps and slamming bodily into Jude. Jude staggered aside, stumbling to his knees. Following through Brand swept the butt of the Winchester round, clouting Jude across the side of the face. The hard wood struck with a sickening thud, driving Jude to the ground. Jude hit on his face and lay still, blood staining his thick beard.
Brand turned back to Elizabeth. He caught hold of her arm and yanked her upright, pushing her along the defile. As he did a shot rang out from the cliff top. Lobo was still around, and able to fight back, despite being hit. The bullet slammed into the ground inches behind Brand. Ignoring Elizabeth’s protests he kept her moving. He wanted to get them into some kind of cover. Away from Lobo’s rifle. A stream of bullets followed them, chipping rock and hissing through the air close by. None of them found their intended target save one that scored a bloody gash across the top of Elizabeth’s left shoulder. She gave a gasp, stumbling. Brand gripped her arm and pulled her upright, practically dragging her along,
Then they were in a kind of tunnel, formed by the coming together of the opposing walls of the defile. The inward curve of the rock formed a natural roof. It closed them off from the cliffs overhead. For the moment they were safe, but Brand didn’t expect it to last.
He pushed Elizabeth against the side wall. Propped himself beside her. They dragged air into their lungs. Sweat trickled down their faces, stinging eyes and tasting salty on their lips. After a few moments Elizabeth allowed herself to slide to the ground. She stared up at Brand, not speaking, and for the first time he was able to see her face clearly. Someone had given her a hard time. One side of her face was badly bruised. She had a gash over one eye.
“Jude?” he asked.
Her hand automatically reached up to cover the bruising. “I had to tell him,’ she said vaguely; she wasn’t speaking to Brand — for a moment her mind was wandering. “He would have killed me.”
Brand took her arm again and pulled her to her feet. “It might still happen,” he growled. Still half-dragging her he moved on along the tunnel. It began to curve away to the left. Brand held the rifle ready in case Lobo showed himself. The half-breed could still be around. There was no way of telling how badly he had been hit by Jude’s bullet. It hadn’t stopped him, and as long as he was able to handle a gun Lobo would be a threat.
Thinking about threats Brand realized he had made a mistake leaving Jude alive. He should have killed the man there and then. But he had been determined to get Elizabeth out of harm’s way. A mistake, allowing sentiment to get in the way of practicality. Once Jude recovered from Brand’s blow he would be on their tail again.
The tunnel roof opened up. Bright shafts of sunlight speared down into the defile. Brand held back, searching the way ahead. Another ten yards and the defile came to a dead end. He saw a place where the sheer wall of the defile gave way to a steep, but passable slope. It would allow them to reach the cliff top where Lobo had fired down on them.
“Can you climb?” he asked Elizabeth.
She stared at him. Her eyes were still dull. “Climb!” she echoed.
Brand turned her towards the slope. The way was rough and hard. Brand had to push Elizabeth ahead of him, while keeping his eyes open for any sign of movement.
They climbed slowly, Elizabeth still awkward in her movements. Dazed. She had obviously been badly shaken by the incident in the defile, and the shock of the bullet graze had left its mark.
It was the longest climb Brand had ever made. If Lobo was still around and decided to start shooting, he would have two easy targets. In the event the renegade didn’t show. Nor did Jude.
Finally, gasping for every breath, bodies aching and bruised, and sodden with sweat Brand and Elizabeth reached the top. They struggled over the final few feet and found they were at the top of the cliff. The defile lay far below them. Brand could see the sprawled figure of Kimble. There was no sign of Jude. To the right and in the distance he could see the broad sweep of the valley.
Elizabeth had slumped to the ground. She rolled face down, her body heaving with exertion. Brand could see the tear in her blouse where the bullet had caught her. Fresh blood overlaid the original dark stain.
Brand hefted the Winchester, turned and studied the mass of rock that rose behind them. This was the highest point in this section of the San Andres. There were higher peaks, though they lay miles to the north. Here, on this level plateau they only had this jutting peak rising some two-hundred feet above them. He studied it closely. It spread for maybe a mile or so across the plateau, running more or less from north to south. From this position there was no telling how deep it actually was. The first fifty feet was a sheer face of rock, the surface split and weathered.
He helped Elizabeth to her feet and she followed him without protest. Brand stood at the rock face. The final approach was across a long slope layered with loose shale and dotted with hefty chunks of weathered rock. When they reached the rock fa
ce Elizabeth put her back to it and slid to the ground.
“I don’t care what you say, Brand, I can’t go any further.”
“Maybe we won’t have to,” he said.
She raised her head, pushing tangled hair away from her face. “What are you talking about?”
Brand crouched in front of her. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” he said sharply. “The reason we’re all here. You, me, and Jude. Your half brother. Lobo.”
The dullness faded from Elizabeth’s eyes, replaced by anger. “How did you know?”
“I’ve known all the time,” he told her. “It’s my job to know.”
“You tricked me!” she said bitterly. “Damn you, Jason Brand, you tricked me!”
“I did what I had to,” he said. “No more than you with your phony name and husband.”
“My reasons were my own,” she said lamely. Then bitingly she snapped: “And what are you? Another damned bounty hunter like Jude?”
Brand shook his head. “I’m not after any reward.”
“Then what?” Awareness came to her even as she spoke. “The law! You’re the law. You want to take him back and hang him!”
“Something has to be done to stop him.”
“But why must ...” Her voice trailed away. She was empty of words.
“Elizabeth, I understand your need to try and help him. But I think he’s beyond that now. He won’t quit. He can’t. It’s gone too far.”
“All I wanted was to talk with him. To get him to leave this place. I stood it as long as I could. Knowing who he was. Hearing all the talk about the things he’s supposed to have done.”
“It couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t that so much. It was knowing I might be able to stop it. But I was too much of a coward to face the fact.”
Brand reached out to touch her face. “Nobody could call you that. Not after what you’ve just been through.”