Vermijo

  It came to Luke that he was literally fighting for his life. If Carl did succeed in restraining him the noose would be the only thing he had waiting for him. So he bore the pain, the discomfort, and made a supreme effort to drag himself from beneath Carl, enabling him to half-straddle Carl’s body and haul back on the manacles, drawing the chain tighter across Carl’s throat. He might have ended the struggle there but for the fact that prior to coming to Vermijo he had never taken a life…especially not in wild anger.

  His killing of Ace had been a pure response to the other’s attempt to shoot him. An automatic response as he faced Ace’s gun. It had come down to the simple choice of holding back and letting Ace kill him, or defending himself.

  He knew he was unable to kill Carl, despite the situation, and he eased off strangling the man, letting the chain slacken. And Carl took advantage of that as he reached back and took hold of Luke’s hair, dragging him forward with a powerful pull. As Luke rolled, Carl twisted himself round and they fell apart, each man scrambling to his feet. They faced each other, hard breathing, bloody, neither willing to back down.

  ‘Bastard!’ Carl husked.

  He threw himself at Luke, their bodies coming together with a hard thud, the force of Carl’s forward push driving Luke back. This time it was Luke who rebounded off the cell bars, sucking air back into his lungs. Carl took the moment to pound at Luke’s body, his face glistening with sweat and blood, his mouth twisted by the rage that was driving him.

  ‘You goin’ to pay, you goddam no ‘count murderin’ killer.’

  He was still ranting when Luke drove a knee up into his groin. Carl gave a ragged screech, falling back, clutching his testicles and Luke eased away from the bars and hit him across the mouth, splitting lips and he kept up the attack. As Carl’s head snapped back and forth, blood flew. He went to his knees and Luke booted him in the side, over his ribs and he didn’t worry whether he was breaking any. Right at that moment all he wanted to do was to put Carl down and prevent him fighting back. Only when Carl stretched out on the floor, barely moving, did Luke stop.

  He stood, head down, chest heaving as he drew breath. Blood was dripping from his face and his body ached with pain.

  He moved, aware of his position. He was far from being free and clear.

  If Jim returned…

  Luke turned and search for Carl’s dropped pistol, saw it partway through the open door of the cell. He bent with an effort and picked it up, checked the load. All but one chamber held a bullet. He pointed the gun at Carl’s trembling body. The urge to shoot rose and Luke had to fight it off. At that moment he experienced a rage against Carl. An overwhelming need to satisfy his anger. It held him for a long moment before he moved the muzzle from Carl, taking deep breaths to settle his yearning to pay back for the injustice bestowed on him. His need was to get away. To get clear of Vermijo before they dropped that noose around his neck and…

  Getting out of Vermijo was going to put him even further outside the law. He would be a fugitive. Fair game for anyone with a quick gun and a steady hand. The last thing Luke Tyler wanted to be was on the dodge. But he saw no easy way out of his current position. Jim Lockhart had branded him a killer and Vermijo was no safe haven for Luke. He was under no illusions. The population of the town wasn’t about to take his side. The town didn’t know him and the hold Lockhart had on Vermijo meant he held the casting vote.

  Luke was on his own. Though there was nothing new there. He was the first to admit he was a drifter. Moving around from place to place, beholden to no one and asking little from the world in general. Right now the world was being downright mean…taking from him and offering nothing in return.

  As Luke made for the jail’s back door his eyes lighted on the spurs Carl was still wearing. The spurs he had taken from Luke. For a fleeting moment Luke figured he might take them back, but Frank’s words came back to him.

  Still wearing your pa’s spurs. Way I see it, boy, they ain’t bringin’ you any more luck than they brought him…

  Luke moved on. Hell, he had no time playing around with a pair of old spurs. If he’d had any time to spare he should have been looking for the keys to the manacles around his wrists. But time was against him. He had to use what he had for the best.

  He pushed open the back door and took a quick look. The way looked open. If he had taken a second longer he might have noticed the early-morning shadow on the ground to his left. He failed to do that and paid the price as he stepped outside and the cold muzzle of a pistol was pressed against the side of his neck, the click of a hammer being dogged back.

  ‘You freeze, you son of a bitch. Make me pull this trigger and I’ll put a hole through your head right now.’

  The heavy weight of failure swept over Luke as Jim Lockhart reached out and snatched the Remington from his grip.

  ‘Just don’t know when it’s time to quit, do you?’

  Luke heard the intake of breath a second before Jim’s gun barrel lashed out and clouted him alongside the head, drawing blood. He stumbled to the side, hitting the door frame. Jim reached out and manhandled Luke back inside the jail, slamming the door shut behind him.

  ‘That’s as close as you’ll get to breakin’ out. Now get your ass back inside that cell.’ As Luke stumbled by Carl the man made a feeble effort to make a grab for his leg.

  ‘Let me have him,’ he wheezed.

  Jim turned from pushing Luke in the cell and kicked out at Carl’s hand. He closed the door and locked it.

  Carl was on his knees now, clutching at his groin. His face was fish-belly white, streaked with blood.

  ‘Let you have him? You had your chance, Carl, and you got your ass kicked for it. Jesus, brother, the feller was chained up and he still took you down. Got his hand on your goddamn gun. I leave you in charge and you let the prisoner out of his cell.’

  ‘I…he needed the outhouse…’

  Jim’s face was twisted in barely suppressed anger.

  ‘An’ you fell for that? Carl, I sometimes wonder how I ended up with a brother like you, giving this killer the time of day. First he murders Ace an’ then he talks you into opening his cell door—’

  ‘How many times I got to tell you it wasn’t…’ Luke yelled from his cell.

  Lockhart spun around his gun aimed at Luke. ‘And you say that one more time an’ I’ll show you what a murder really looks like.’

  Carl was on his feet, swaying as he sleeved blood from his face.

  ‘Jim…’ Carl was pleading with his brother, his craving for some kind of compassion lost on Jim.

  ‘Don’t say a damn word, you useless asshole. Just listen to me. I got something I need you to do. Listen for once an’ do what I tell you. Come hangin’ time I want the town watchin’. The whole miserable bunch of ’em. You hear me, Carl? This is where we show who runs this pissant town.’

  Carl stared at him, seeing the hard gleam in his brother’s eyes and for once he decided it was in his own interest not to argue.

  ‘Yeah, I got that.’

  ‘Take a rifle with you. Show you mean business, Carl. Get the boys to help. Herd those damn townsfolk down to the gallows come nine o’clock. They can have front row seats.’

  Carl took one of the racked rifles, checking it was loaded, then shuffled his way to the main door. His whole body still hurt from his fight with Luke Tyler and despite the upcoming hanging he wished he could still have his personal revenge against the man. It would not make the pain go away but Carl had his notion.

  ‘The whole town, Carl. Don’t mess this up. Get it arranged, then get yourself some sleep.’

  Carl mumbled a reply as he walked out the door. He took his time finding the posse men, telling them what needed doing in the morning, then headed for his room, wanting to be out of the rain and in his bed. He was still suffering from his fight with Luke Tyler and figured at least a few hours’ sleep would help to ease his discomfort.

  As he thought about the hanging he felt a shade better. When he actually
saw that killer dangling from a rope, he knew he would feel even better. That son of a bitch was going to have a short day come tomorrow.

  A really short day.

  Ten

  Jim Lockhart had rested in his chair, feet up on the desk, so he was working the stiffness out of his bones as he crossed the jail to stand in front of the cell. Bright sunlight was coming in through the windows and he could feel the heat starting to gather. He roused the sleeping prisoner.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got a nice day for your hanging, boy,’ he said. ‘Now push your hands through the bars so’s I can sort you out.’

  He removed the manacles from Luke’s wrists, replacing them with a length of rope he tied on tight. Luke stared at Jim with unconcealed displeasure.

  ‘That was good try you made,’ Jim said, pleasant enough. ‘Got to give you that. But it just weren’t good enough. I had a feelin’ you might pull somethin’ and by damn I was right.’ He allowed a soft chuckle to escape his lips. ‘You sure gave Carl a beating. But that boy is so dumb he deserved it. If there was a way for him to follow you to hell he’d do it and hand out some more licks of his own.’

  Jim stepped back as he opened the cell door, watching Luke closely, allowing no chance for his prisoner to get close.

  ‘Puzzles me some why you didn’t finish Carl when you had the chance.’

  Luke said, ‘Because I ain’t no killer. Your brother forced that fight in the saloon and I protected myself. Ain’t no more to it than that. Same with Carl. I ain’t in the habit of killing people.’

  Jim shook his head. ‘We done been through this enough times. You killed Ace and there ain’t no way you can talk your way out, so save your breath…you’ll sure enough need it when that noose snaps around your neck.’

  He pushed Luke ahead of him as they stepped outside onto the street, where Carl and his men were herding the townspeople into a nervous bunch in front of the gallows. They moved reluctantly, and it was plain to see they were not happy being forced into watching the hanging, but still cowed by the armed presence of Jim Lockhart and his men. Luke scanned the set faces, hoping for some kind of sympathy, but no one would meet his gaze. The bright glare of sunlight made Luke narrow his eyes. Over the heads of the assembled crowd he could see the stark silhouette of the scaffold and the rope. Truth be told it was the last thing he wanted to see.

  ‘Keep moving, boy. Don’t figure it right to keep your audience waitin’,’ Jim said.

  Luke walked ahead of him along the street, Jim keeping him covered with his revolver. Despite the situation Luke found himself thinking of better times. He’d never had much in the way of responsibility, and it suited him that way. It allowed him to come and go, taking jobs when he wanted. Other times he simply drifted through the days, taking in the wide and wild countryside at leisure. He’d had his good times and his bad…yet none of them were as bleak as his present situation. It was not of his making. Just the trap he had found himself caught in and as far as Luke could see there was no way out. Surrounded by armed men, hands tied, and nothing but a noose waiting for him up ahead. A hell of a way for any man to die, especially seeing he was innocent of the crime Jim Lockhart had accused him of. This was not the way he had expected his life to end.

  Briefly he considered making a break for it, giving them no choice but to gun him down rather than hang him. But he wasn’t about to give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him shot down like a dog. If this was the way it was going to end he would at least show them he was no coward.

  Luke straightened his back and stiffened his shoulders.

  Heads down, the townsfolk cleared a path as Luke walked through, closely followed by Jim. Carl and the deputies followed until they stood between the crowd and the gallows.

  It was then a broad figure appeared, walking out from a side alley to stand just ahead of the watching Vermijo citizens.

  It was Frank Tyler.

  Luke, recognizing his grandfather still alive, felt his emotions rising.

  ‘Enough,’ Frank called, getting the attention of everyone else on the street. ‘It’s time this was brought to a finish, Lockhart. There ain’t about to be a hangin’ today.’

  Jim expressed his surprise as he recognized Frank, unsure of himself before his confidence returned.

  ‘Thought we left you for dead, old man.’

  ‘Figured so myself until I found I was still breathin’.’

  ‘We can still change that,’ Carl yelled through his bruised, bloody lips. ‘Mebbe we can have a double hangin’. What do you say, Jim?’

  ‘I say shut your damn mouth, Carl.’

  ‘See, that bullet went right through me just above my hip,’ Frank said, touching his side. ‘Left me sore is all and madder than a wet hen.’

  ‘Then go tend to that wound,’ Jim said. ‘We got law work to do. Unless you fancy standing next to your kin.’

  Frank stepped forward, shaking his head.

  ‘This ain’t law work by any stretch, Lockhart. You just want revenge for your dead brother, and to make an example for the folk in Vermijo. But you can’t fool anyone. I been here long enough to hear how you got the town too scared to stand up to you.’

  ‘You talkin’ foolish, old man.’

  ‘Not the way I understand it. You got this town bottled up so’s you and your bunch can do pretty much what you want. Make these folks pay protection money. Threaten them if they don’t. Use your bully boys to keep ‘em in line. If they stand against you they get beat up, or their property gets burned down. I been hearing the story.’

  Jim’s teeth showed in a sneer. ‘The hell you say. Me and my brothers put the lid on a dozen towns just like this one. Cleaned ‘em up. The town council here asked us to come and do the same for Vermijo. They asked us, Tyler.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, but whatever the reason, it got lost along the way and you strayed off the line. Decided Vermijo was ripe for plucking. That the way it was, Lockhart? Got yourselves real settled here. Saw your chance and took over. By then the town had no heart to fight back.’

  ‘Vermijo needed us.’

  ‘Mebbe so. And maybe you started out doing what they wanted. Only along the way you saw a chance to make yourselves to home. Take more than you had a right to.’

  ‘Old man, you talk a damned streak. Let me put you right. Vermijo got what we promised and more, then started gettin’ uppity once we tamed it. Folks decided they didn’t need us anymore. Figured they could just have us move on. They didn’t appreciate us any longer.’

  Frank’s own smile was cool, then the corners of his mouth turned down with disdain. ‘Blaming the town is a coward’s way, Lockhart. What I’d expect from a bully. You and your brothers have done your best to take this town for everything you can. Turned out to be lawmen gone bad. Usin’ your badges for your own ends.’ He shook his head pityingly. ‘In my book, that makes you just about the lowest kind of critters there is.’

  Jim squared his shoulders. ‘And who the hell are you to tell me that?’

  Slowly Frank dug into his jacket and when his hand came back out it was holding something that reflected the sunshine. He tossed the object at Jim and it hit the dust between Jim’s feet.

  It was a badge.

  ‘Frank Tyler,’ said Frank. ‘Ex-US Marshal. The man your brother there shot and left for dead. The man whose grandson you figure to hang. The man who’s goin’ to burn you down, Lockhart.’

  Jim seemed unconcerned by the threat. ‘You reckon, huh?’ he called.

  A thin smile showed on his lips a fraction of a second before his hand dropped to his holstered Colt, sliding it from the holster and firing a single shot that put a slung in Frank’s right leg. As Frank dropped he let go his rifle, grasping at the bleeding wound.

  ‘Son of a bitch,’ Jim snapped as he pushed by Luke, gun arm extended. ‘Who’s down now, Tyler? I’m lookin’ at a dead man who don’t know it yet.’

  ‘Don’t do it, Jim!’

  It was Eve’s voice, reaching Jim as she pu
shed out of the crowd and faced him.

  She was holding a gun in her hands, and it was pointed in his direction.

  ‘The hell you playing at, girl?’ he demanded. ‘You put that gun down now, you hear.’

  Eve struggled to hold back the tears filling her eyes. She was visibly trembling.

  ‘That there man is right,’ she choked. ‘You, Ace, Carl…all you’ve done is bully Vermijo. Scared the people and bled it dry. It’s like that man said. You Lockharts are rotten. All of you. Now you just want to hang this boy here to keep us in line.’

  ‘Eve…’ Jim’s voice had turned heavy, threatening.

  ‘No more, Jim,’ she said, speaking over him. ‘Time you heard the truth about the shooting. Something you don’t know.’

  ‘So tell me,’ he growled, sounding like he didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘Luke didn’t kill Ace,’ said Eve. ‘I did.’

  Aside from the sighing of the wind, the street was silent.

  ‘What you sayin’, girl?’ Jim said.

  ‘The morning Ace died, he beat me for the last time. I’d taken his hand too often and told myself I wasn’t gonna take it no more. I’d had enough of his cruelty.’

  It was mid-morning as Eve stepped out of the cabin, still trembling from the beating, face bruised. In her slim hand she carried a heavy Colt .45 Peacemaker. She stood for a moment, making a decision, aware it was going to change her life, then walked away from the cabin and headed up town…she paid little attention to her surroundings as she moved with stolid determination…

  ‘…Ace was no real husband. Just as bad as the rest of you. Worthless. He beat me because he didn’t know any other way to control me. Just like the way the three of you did for this town to keep it in its place. I’d made up my mind I wasn’t going to let that happen to me any more…I was going to settle with Ace once and for all.’

  Luke Tyler was already inside the saloon at the moment Eve walked by, stepping along the boardwalk, and she saw her husband at the bar, a drink in his hand, and seeing him there her spirits sank. A hollow seeming to form in her stomach, the revolver in her hand, held tight against her leg in the folds of her dress, suddenly feeling like a dead weight. She was aware of the hot sun on her back, the noise of the townsfolk going about their business, paying her no attention. It was simply seeing Ace there, oblivious to what he’d done to her. She doubted her resolve. She was no cold killer. Able to end someone’s life. Even though she had cause to hit back she simply stood and stared…