War Rider

by Tony Masero

  Ty was seated behind the desk in his comfortable rooms above the saloon when the information reached him. An old rummy knocked tentatively on his door and was allowed access.

  “What do you want?” said Ty, looking up from his paperwork as the disheveled old fellow shuffled in.

  “I got something to tell you, Mister Fells.”

  “Well, spit it out,” Ty said impatiently, he was busy preparing for his first intake of stock and did not want to be interrupted.

  “Well...” said the cowed man, nervously toying with a ragged sleeve. “I wondered.... if...if you could see your way to.... it’s about the sheriff, you see.”

  “What?” Ty asked, looking up petulantly before shouting irritably, “What is it?” Slowly realization sank in as Ty looked at the terrified man and he heaved a heavy sigh. “Okay,” he said more calmly. “If it’s worth it I’ll see you’re taken care of.”

  The man grinned obsequiously and hurried on, gabbling as he burst to get his news out. “His deputies, they’re down at the store buying up gunpowder. Got three barrels loaded in a flat bed.”

  Ty frowned and thought on the likelihood of the sheriff’s office needing such a quantity of explosive. “Did they say what for?” he asked.

  “Said it’s for tree-rooting,” the fidgeting man replied. “Must be an awful lot of trees though. That’s a fair amount of powder for a few roots.”

  “The hell you say,” muttered Ty. “Alright, go down to the bar, tell them I said it’s okay to go you a bottle.”

  The rummy nodded thankfully and scratching his unshaven chin, scurried for the door. “Thank you, sir. Thanks, Mister Fells.”

  “Whilst you’re down there, tell Tyrone to come on up here.”

  “Yessir, Mister Fells. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Yes, get out quicker than you came in!” snapped Ty.

  He got up from behind his desk and went over and opened a window to flush the unwashed whisky stink of the rummy out of the room. A few minutes later, Tyrone came in and stood behind him. Ty remained where he was, looking down at the busy street below.

  “You wanted me?” asked Tyrone.

  “You heard?” asked Ty.

  “The gunpowder? Yeah, that old bum only shut up when the cork came out.”

  “Best take a look, see what Ahlen’s up to. Take the others with you.”

  “You got it.” Tyrone turned on his heel and left the room.

  Ty stood at the window a while longer, chewing his lip as the troubling possibilities of Ahlen’s scheming ran through his mind.

  ***********

  They reached the bridge an hour later and Jodie waved them down as they approached. Pres drove the buckboard with Len riding shotgun and Ahlen following behind on horseback.

  “Nobody yet,” called Jodie. “But they’re getting close.”

  Ahlen could hear it now. A distant rumble like approaching thunder, every hoof beat ampliphied by the wooden tree trunks that made up the road.

  “Let’s get to it then,” said Ahlen. “Bring those three barrels down. I want them in the middle of the bridge. One against each side support and the last barrel in the middle of the road. It won’t bring it down but it’ll make a serious hole in the works.”

  Quickly the four men began work, rolling the barrels through the low water to the center of the bridge. Jodie unfastened a long length of fuse and using his knife, cut and spliced together three separate lengths, one for each barrel. Then he lashed them to a row of floating wedges of wood to keep the fuse from sinking.

  With blows from his rifle butt, Ahlen quickly broke in the barrel lids and once the fuses were in place, they all backed off back to the island shore.

  They had barely stepped onto the shore when two cowboys arrived on the Canadian side. They reared their ponies back and looked suspiciously at the barrels that appeared to be floating in mid-stream.

  “What’re you fellows about?” called out one of the riders, his voice thin over the span of water.

  “Stand off!” shouted Ahlen. “I’m sheriff of Mistake and I’m telling you this here bridge is illegal and we’re bringing it down.”

  “The hell you say!” the cowboy called back.

  “I do say,” said Ahlen. “Now unless you want your head blowed off, get back out of range.”

  “We’ve got a herd coming in, partner. Nobody stops that.”

  The cowboy pulled his rifle and whilst still on horseback, whirled the pony and fired at Ahlen. Ducking behind the buckboard wagon, Ahlen called out, “Light her up, Jodie!”

  Jodie set lighted match to the fuse and with a plume of smoke the fire raced off.

  The cowboys on the opposite side were having difficulty controlling their ponies, which pranced and danced wildly on the sloping bank.

  “Fire over their heads, they’re probably out of range anyway,” called Ahlen. “But get the pair of dumb bucks away from there.”

  Ahlen was watching the hissing fuse shooting nearer and nearer to the barrels when he heard a bullet crack close by his head. As he watched, one of the floating branches Jodie had set up vanished in a jet of water. The fuse dropped below water level, sputtered and went out.

  Ahlen turned quickly as the following sound-of-shot clearly came from behind him. He saw Tyrone, a smoking rifle in hand standing in the middle of the track, his men hurriedly dismounting behind him.

  “Watch out behind, boys! We’re ambushed!”

  With Ahlen’s frantic warning, his companions dived off the open road and into the undergrowth on either side.

  Jodie and Len made it to the far side of the track, whilst Ahlen hugged to the wagon and Pres hid in the bushes beside him.

  “Fuse’s out!” shouted Jodie as shots started to whip past, coming at them from both sides. The cowboys had dismounted and firing wildly were making their way onto the bridge, obviously determined to push the gunpowder barrels over the side.

  The buckboard panel beside Ahlen’s head vibrated as bullets smashed into it. He ducked down and rolled under the wagon. Lying prone, he balanced his Colt between the wagon’s wheel spokes and aimed a shot at the central barrel. The pistol bucked in his hand as he fired and in the same instant the gunpowder exploded with a booming roar. The two neighboring barrels followed suit close behind and a great pillar of water rose up as the explosions echoed through the forest. Blasted bridge stones shot out through the smoke and spray, spitting up divots of earth on the shore and raising a showering rainfall of splashes on the lake’s surface. At first a great wave rose and spread in a wide circle away from the bridge and then water rushed back in to fill the crater left by the explosion.

  The two cowboys disappeared from view behind the flash and smoke of exploded gunpowder and Ahlen doubted that they would be coming back into the fray very soon. He turned his attention to the gun battle that was taking place down the broad track behind him.

  Shots were racketing from both sides, cutting down flurries of leaves and branches. Neither side could see the other amongst the greenery and it was blind shooting. All that was left visible were the gunmen’s loose mounts running terrified away down the road.

  “Save your ammo!” called Ahlen. “This is getting nowhere.”

  Firing continued for a while from Tyrone and his men until they too decided it was a wasted effort and ceased the gunplay.

  “Its a standoff, Tyrone!” shouted Ahlen. “There’s not much you can do here now. The bridge is gone.”

  “You’re one big pain in the ass, Best,” Tyrone called back. “This ain’t going to go down well.”

  “I couldn’t give a tinker’s cuss about that,” replied Ahlen. “You boys better leave town now and take Ty Fells with you. You ain’t welcome here no more.”

  “I’ll come for you, Best. Count on it.”

  “Any time,” Ahlen answered. “And bring that Mex woman beater with you. I’d like to give him some of what he likes to hand out.”

  “Aiee!” called Manuel Varga, with a raucous laugh
. “I shake in my boots, senor. Why don’t you come find me, I think I would like that.”

  “It’ll come to it, Varga,” answered Ahlen. “It’ll come.”

  There was the sound of rustling and twigs cracking underfoot as Tyrone and his men retreated cautiously back through the forest. Ahlen knew they would have a fair walk until they could recapture their ponies and he felt confident that they had given up the conflict.

  Jodie called across in a hushed voice. “You want me to go in after them, Ahlen?”

  “No, leave it. We’ll take them in the open when it’s time.”

  Ahlen slid out from under the wagon and standing on the riverside of the buckboard, looked out at the destroyed bridge. Nothing was visible through the churned water; brown mud had been thrown up and clouded the lake surface. Smoke still hung in the air and he could see the two soaked cowboys, one dragging his limp companion up onto the far bank with difficulty.

  “You boys okay?” Ahlen called across to them.

  “No thanks to you,” answered the cowpoke. “I’m near deaf and my buddy here has his head split open.”

  “I warned you to get away from there.” Ahlen looked at the sorry pair and relented. “You bring your friend across and we’ll take him into town for a doctor. You can come along if you want and whilst you’re there you can pass on the message to Ty Fells how he don’t have a bridge no more.”

  “Reckon I’ll pass on that particular pleasure but I’m obliged to you for my buddy here, I’ll bring him over.”

  **********

  When Ty received the news he was apoplectic with rage.

  Leaning against a wall, Tyrone watched placidly as chairs were kicked over and glasses smashed during Ty’s tirade of anger. The saloonkeeper rampaged around his office, sweeping papers from the desk and pounding the desktop in frustration. Finally, when Ty’s violence had finally run its course, Tyrone eased himself slowly away from the wall.

  “You just say the word, boss. We’ll obliterate this fellow and the rest of his punks.”

  “Well, you haven’t done much of a job so far, have you?” snapped Ty.

  “Let us take the gloves off, we’ll get it done.”

  “Sure, you take the gloves off and everyone sees what we’re about, then word gets over to the mainland and the legislature sends prying eyes. We don’t want them poking into our business here. That’s not the way.”

  “How then?” asked Tyrone. “Say it. What do you want us to do?”

  Ty walked around the room picking up chairs and replacing them in position with restrained care as he considered.

  “What have they got to lose?” Ty asked. “Where’s their soft spot.”

  Tyrone shrugged. “We tried the girl and the kid, we even nailed that bastard’s hands to a door.”

  “And all of that really blew up in our face,” growled Ty. “No, it needs to be subtler. The families is where Ahlen is at his weakest, that’s for sure. What we need is a bargaining chip. So, here’s what you do. Go down to his house; pick up the whole damned lot of them. His ma, pa, the girl and the kid and take them up to the slaughterhouse. We’ll hold them there. It’ll be their lives against Ahlen leaving us in peace to get that herd across.”

  “They got that Loup, circulating around the island all day on lookout.”

  “So, we need a diversion.”

  Tyrone raised questioning eyebrows, “And how do we do that, if we’re supposed to be at the house?”

  “Go get me Deed Langstrom, he’s got an axe to grind here. Maybe if I tell it right he’ll make a move and give you the chance to go in untroubled.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “That’s great, pa,” said Ahlen, taking the hand-carved object with a smile of approval. “Our prisoner in the County Jail will sure appreciate it. You really have a talent for this.”

  His father looked at the smooth surface of the perfectly formed wooden leg. “I’ve been around timber all my life, it’s hardly surprising I can’t cut a piece.”

  They stood at the front gate to the Best home and, impatient to be moving, Ahlen’s pony nuzzled his back as he admired his father’s handiwork.

  “And look here, how you’ve made it shaped like a human leg, why he can put a boot on this and look just like a natural man walking about. But to make it’s form from those busted remnants I gave you, that’s a real art.”

  “Better you put the slug in some dead wood than a living man, boy,” observed his peace-loving father. “The Good Lord put us here to make something of ourselves not just to kill and plunder without cause.”

  Ahlen nodded; he’d heard the lecture many times before. “Trouble is, not everybody agrees with that principle, pa. Sometimes you have to protect yourself.”

  “I know it,” Ahlen’s father sighed. “I’ve seen enough of it of late. Greed and avarice, that’s the root of the rot. It’s going to get this world in a heap of trouble one day, you watch if it don’t.”

  “Think it already has, pa.”

  “Well,” said his father, patting Ahlen’s shoulder. “You just be sure you’re standing for what’s right, son. Not that I doubt you, I’m sure you do that already.”

  “I try, pa. Now I’m going to get this up to our friend in the jail, save him hopping around his cell one legged. But whatever you think about the morals of it, you keep a shotgun to hand. Ty Fells is after my blood and I wouldn’t put it past him to come calling here just out of spite.”

  His father frowned. “You know my thoughts on that, Ahlen. I don’t take kindly to weapons in my house.”

  “Will you do it for me?” Ahlen said in desperation. “Think about ma and the others.”

  “We’ve got Loup caring for us, he comes calling regular. In fact, he’s so often here he’s liable to eat your ma out of house and home. I swear, I’ve never seen a body put so much away in such a small space.”

  Ahlen chuckled. “True enough, I think that boy never stopped growing.”

  “Don’t you worry about us, son. We’ll be fine.”

  “Ahlen!”

  The call brought Ahlen’s head around and there was Annie, dressed in a summer frock with her hair freshly set and tied up with ribbons, walking towards them along the path from the house.

  “My, you sure look pretty today, Miss Annie Caldense,” Ahlen’s father said.

  Annie blushed. “You think so?” she mumbled coyly, although it was obvious she had gone to great lengths to look her best.

  “Well, if he don’t think so, I certainly do,” grinned Ahlen. “I’m just about going up to the jailhouse with this here peg leg pa made, d’you fancy walking with me?”

  “I will,” she said, biting her lower lip with pleasure before smiling shyly back at him.

  “See you later, pa. And mind what I say.”

  “Sure, sure,” said his father dismissively, turning back towards the house.

  As they walked the road back to town, Annie put her arm through Ahlen’s whilst he allowed the pony to follow on loose-reined behind.

  “Pa will never pay me heed,” Ahlen complained, shaking his head. “There’s real danger out there but he can’t bring himself to take up arms.’

  “His heart isn’t in it, Ahlen. Killing and such. He sees it as an offence to God’s creation.”“I know, trouble is, it’s that kind of thinking that allows the Ty Fell’s of this world to walk all over us.”

  “Your pa, has a different perspective,” Annie explained patiently. “He takes his lead from the Good Book. You know, where it says; ‘What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul’. That’s his way of thinking. So to him, a heartless body like Ty Fells, who’s sole aim is money and power, to your pa he’s already a walking dead man. Dead inside, that is, so there’s no point in shooting him down.”

  “Might be so that Ty’s a heartless body alright but he can hurt an awful lot of people on his way to hell. Just look what he did to the town already.”

  Annie sniffed and looked away. “Le
t’s not talk on Ty Fells anymore. I’ve had more than enough of him in my life.”

  Ahlen smiled and teased her. “I know, honey. Let’s just talk about you and me instead.”

  She turned to him, her head set coquettishly on one side. “Why, Sheriff Best, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

  “That’s a given fact,” said Ahlen. “And I’ll taste those cherry lips of your right now, damned if I don’t.”

  With that he swept her into his arms and kissed her warmly. A moment’s flustering and Annie responded by flinging her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe as she kissed him back fervently.

  Breathless, he let her back down on her feet. “Ahlen,” she said, clinging to him. “You are one reckless man, kissing a girl right here out in the open like this. I’ve got a bad enough name as it is already.”

  “Maybe its time to change your name,” he answered.

  Annie frowned. “How so?” she asked.

  “How does Mrs. Annie Best, sound to you?”

  She raised her eyes to his. “You mean that, Ahlen? Really mean it?”

  “Of course I do, Annie. You’re the sweetest thing I ever met and I want you with me always.”

  “Even after all I’ve been and done?”

  “You think I haven’t know other women?” he asked. “I was in the army a lot of years, Annie. In some trying situations during the war. You come away with a hunger for life after you’ve seen a lot of those kinds of horrors. So, I’m no innocent angel and I guess you ain’t either. Kind of makes us even, don’t you think?”

  “If you believe that...” she faltered. “I mean, you really do. Maybe. Just maybe we could make a go of it.”

  “You bet we can, and we will.”

  He kissed her again and this time she answered him fully and completely.

  “I’ll be a good to you, Ahlen,” she promised. “Just make sure you’re the same to me.”

  “You have my word on it.”

  Keb Hawkins could not believe his eyes when he saw his new leg.