Vermijo

  ‘You want the truth?’ she said. ‘I hesitated. Almost lost my chance because I wasn’t like you Lockharts. Ace was there in front of me, arguing with this here Luke Tyler. He was pushing for a fight, just like he always did. He was an easy target but I couldn’t bring myself to shoot right then.’

  She moved along the boardwalk, stopping at the alley that ran along the side of the saloon as the raised voices from inside reached her. Ace’s harsh tones and the quieter voice of Luke. She was able to see them through the open side window of the saloon. The exchanged words were lost to her in the blur of action. The thrown punches, the pair moving back and forth as the argument increased. Ace falling back, bloody lipped, face wild with the anger Eve knew only too well. She saw Luke prepare to snatch at his holstered pistol, lifting it to fire, and Luke having no choice but to pull his weapon as he lay on the floor.

  It was the expression on Ace’s face that she recognized, the cold, vicious gleam in his eyes that came just before his temper exploded into brutal violence. It was the look she knew too well and seeing that Eve acted on impulse, knowing Luke would be too slow, lifting her Colt aiming and firing. It was only a split second later that Luke’s gun fired, his bullet angled off target, the bullet striking the distant corner of the room. The twin shots came so close they almost merged. Eve’s shot hit Ace in the face and he fell back against the bar. The anger in his expression turned to confusion. Hurt as he realized he had been shot, and he slumped back, head dropping as if he was studying the blood oozing from the ruin of his eye and then became still.

  Eve stepped back, letting the hand holding the gun drop to her side. She found herself moving along the alley, away from the street and didn’t stop until she found herself on the trash-strewn back lot. She braced her hand against a wall, leaning forward and vomited into the dirt. When the retching ceased she pushed the revolver back into the folds of her dress and made her way along the back lots until she was some distance from the saloon. She rejoined Vermijo’s main street at the tail-end of the people rushing towards the saloon, no one noticing her as she emerged…

  ‘So that’s what you got wrong, Jim. It wasn’t this boy who shot Ace. It was me. I saw the look on Ace’s face and knew he was going to put Luke down. I knew because I’d seen that look so many times before when he beat me. I shot him for what he was…a cowardly bully who never would have changed.’

  Now it was Jim who was staring at her with that familiar coldness in his eyes.

  ‘That was the way of it?’ he said softly. ‘Why Ace never got off a shot? You fired first and the second shot was the kid’s. Son of a bitch, that was why there were still five shots unfired in his gun.’ He pushed Luke aside, his gaze fixed on Eve. It was as if Luke didn’t matter any longer. ‘Hell, it looks like I’ll be hangin’ a woman instead today.’

  Eve reacted to his words, leveling her gun at him. But before she could fire Carl triggered a shot himself. The bullet slammed into her shoulder, turning her and she fell heavily, her revolver slipping from her grasp. A collective murmur of disapproval came from the gathered townsfolk.

  ‘You don’t cheat the rope that easy, Eve,’ Carl said. ‘Not after what you did to Ace.’

  The distraction offered Frank his chance. Ignoring the pain in his leg wound he snatched up his rifle and fired at Jim, but the shot was too hasty, and missed.

  Jim ordered his men to stand down as they turn their guns in Frank’s direction, the townsfolk hurriedly scattering from the center of the street.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ Jim snapped. ‘This son of a bitch is mine. All mine.’

  Carl, sensing a change in the situation, turned to confront Luke. In that one brief flash he saw that Luke had worked the ropes at his wrists loose and was coming at him with the clear intent to kill or main.

  Carl triggered a panicky shot that missed the mark. A split second later Luke smashed into him and knocked his gun aside. They stumbled across the street, each attempting to gain the upper hand, slamming into the horse trough close to the corral beside the gallows. The force of their struggle tipped them across the trough and they came to their feet again, throwing pouches that marked their faces around the damage done by their earlier fight. Clawing at each other’s shirt they dragged themselves upright, still fighting, landing hard, heavy blows that sprayed blood as they staggered around. A telling punch from Luke sent Carl back against the corral posts where he hung, his resistance wavering. It offered Luke his opening and he sledged in blow after blow to Carl’s face and body, unmindful of his own condition. He only stopped when Carl, still clinging to the corral post, hung limp and unresisting, blood dripping from his battered face…

  …the street was suddenly filling with townsfolk, armed now and ready to face Jim’s gunmen. The deputies, seeing the way the tide was turning, offered no more resistance, and just backed off as they saw their livelihood ebbing away.

  Still defiant, however, Jim Lockhart was determined to take Frank with him. He moved forward, revolver rising, and Frank still fighting back the pain from the wound in his leg, picked up his Winchester and made to fire. The lever refused to move, jammed. He tossed the weapon aside, gripping the holstered Colt with his blood-slick hand.

  Moving forward Jim faced the downed man, sure of his claim on his victim.

  ‘Last words, old man?’ Jim said, a grin forming.

  Frank’s eyes went flat.

  ‘Only so long,’ he said.

  Then he tilted his Colt up a notch and fired it through the open end of the holster.

  The heavy .45 bullet hammered into Jim’s chest, right over his heart and was followed by a second shot that struck a fraction of an inch from the first. Jim stumbled back, shocked, barely able to comprehend what had happened. He hit the gallows support legs and slid to a sitting position, his fading vision taking in the gunsmoke trailing from the open end of Frank’s holster.

  By the time Frank pushed awkwardly to his feet Jim was dead, his own weapon still gripped in his clenched fist.

  Luke appeared, half-dragging the bloody Carl alongside him. He hauled Carl to the center of the street and pushed him down. Carl offered no resistance, just lay bleeding into the dust.

  Ruby Tucker appeared, dropping to her knees beside Eve. She ministered to the whimpering young woman.

  ‘You stay with us, Eve. Stay with us, you hear?’ She turned to face the shocked townsfolk, her voice defiant. ‘Don’t stand there like chickens with their heads cut off. Someone get the doc. Do it now, damn you.’

  Miller, the bartender, edged forward, eyeing the dangling noose strangely. Then he turned to look at the slumped figure if Carl.

  ‘Seems a shame to let that noose go to waste,’ he said mildly. ‘After everything that’s happened an’ all.’

  Carl, raising his head, realized what the man meant.

  ‘The hell with you bastards,’ he growled. ‘You ain’t got the guts.’

  Miller shrugged. ‘I’ll tell you, Carl,’ he said. ‘When a man’s had a bellyful of you Lockharts, he’ll find the guts.’

  Carl struggled to his feet, facing the approaching and determined townsmen. The former deputies, seeing the intent in the faces of the crowd, quickly edged away. There weren’t going to be any more paydays around Vermijo, so there was no loyalty left to Carl as they took their leave.

  ‘Miserable bastards,’ Carl yelled, seeing his support vanish, leaving him to face the townsfolk on his own. He jabbed a finger at the advancing crowd. ‘You can’t do this to me. Not Carl Lockhart!’

  The crowd kept coming.

  Carl caught Frank’s eye. ‘You. You used to be a lawmen. Tell ’em.’

  Frank only stared at him.

  Carl’s eyes went wide. ‘You could stop this.’

  Leaning on Luke’s shoulder for support, Frank nodded. ‘That’s right,’ he agreed. ‘I could.’

  But he did nothing.

  ‘You and your brother there were ready to string my grandson up,’ Frank said grimly. ‘You wanted to make an e
xample out of him. Well…I guess these here people want to hang you right now for much the same reason…a warning to anyone else who figures to ride in and take over Vermijo. Kind of justice in there, somewhere.’

  Finally the townsfolk clustered around Carl and his final wail of protest rose over their heads as they dragged him toward the gallows…and eternity.

  ‘You leave me alone, damn you. You…noooo!’

  ~*~

  In the late afternoon, Frank and Luke checked their waiting horses before they rode out, eager to leave Vermijo behind them. Luke, his battered face cleaned up but still looking sore, moved slowly. His body was still hurting and in truth he needed to rest, but like Frank he wanted to get some distance between himself and the town before that. Similarly, Frank was still in pain after having his leg attended to. They looked a sorry pair, but contented themselves with the fact they were still alive.

  ‘Grandpa, you sure about this?’ Luke asked as he tightened his cinch.

  ‘Damn right I’m sure,’ Frank replied. ‘Gets a sight lonesome out at my place. I’d enjoy the company, and you can stay until you’re healed up proper and ready to move on again.’

  ‘It’s just…well, seems to me all I ever done is bring you trouble. I’ll be straight with you. I’ve ridden with the worst before now.’

  ‘Well, you’re ridin’ with the best now.’

  ‘Guess so,’ Luke said, managing a weak smile. ‘Mebbe…well, mebbe we can do a little huntin’ like we used to.’

  ‘Just like we used to,’ said Frank, happy at the prospect. ‘Only this time not goin’ against anyone who can shoot back.’

  ‘Can’t argue against that.’ Luke climbed slowly into the saddle. ‘I been thinking. If it hadn’t been for Ace’s widow, I might have ended up on the end of that rope.’

  ‘True enough, boy. But she come through just fine in the end. That was a brave thing she did, outing that no ‘count varmint. Anyway, I always knew you couldn’t have done it.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Hell, yeah. You never could shoot worth a damn.’

  Luke smiled — actually smiled, and it had been a long time since he’d last done that. ‘Well I’ll tell you this for nothin’,’ he said. ‘I got me a second chance, an’ I figure to make the most of it. When Eve gets over her shoulder healing, I hope she does, too.’

  ‘Something tells me she will. Vermijo owes her for what she done.’

  As they rode out of town, leaving behind the past few days as fading memories, the sight of Carl’s hanging body, swaying in the breeze was their final image of Vermijo. Luke caught a glimpse of sunlight flaring briefly on the spurs Carl had taken from him and realized again that it could just as easily have been him hanging there. It was a sobering thought and he felt a shiver course through him.

  ‘Grandpa, let’s go home,’ he said, and turned his back on the town.

  Making the Movie, Vermijo

  By director Paul Vernon

  How it all came about!

  Simply, I am a western fan from the UK and love making western films.

  Initially I wanted to make a film about William Bonney. I thought it might be fun to try and cover a story about him from a different angle. However, when you think about it, there are already quite a few very good films about Billy the Kid, so trying to find new ground about this infamous character would be nigh impossible.

  Therefore I decided to broaden my horizons, but still feature as our main central character a ‘Kid’ and interact our story around him with other leading players. Also, rather than just make another shoot-’em-up western, I wanted to tell a story with greater emphasis on the characters and thereby making it a character-driven western. I also wanted to touch on some contemporary subjects—alcohol abuse, bullying, domestic violence.

  I chatted over various options with a few writers and then I discovered Ben Bridges, a prolific writer of westerns.

  I had already agreed with Adam Gold (with whom I had previously worked on Send Me Your Smile) that we needed a really strong story and that each of the characters in the film would be equally important to this story in their own right. We put this to Ben, who agreed. Ben and I chatted over a brief premise of the story and he starting penning some thoughts.

  After having exchanged a few emails we agreed on the main structure for the story. Ben began formatting it as a script and I added my five cents’-worth until we had, what we believe to be, a solid piece of work.

  In the meantime, I visited Arizona again, where I was taking Send Me Your Smile to the Jerome Indie Film and Music Festival in September 2015.

  Spurred on by the fact that the film won the ‘Rising Spirit Award’ for the most inspirational film of the Festival, I headed down to Tucson to chat over my plans with Heather and Jerry Woods from the Pinnacle Peak Pistoleros Stunt team. I had in mind that their son, Noah, (whom I had previously seen in stunt shows) would be perfect to play the role of ‘the Kid’.

  While watching one of their marvelous shows at Trail Dust Town, I was very impressed with another performer, Hayden Wilson, and immediately visualized him for the role of Ace Lockhart—the middle of the three Lockhart brothers, and a dastardly person to say the least!

  With agreement from the Woods family, we set up a scenario between Noah and Hayden and filmed some test footage of them both. The result confirmed my belief that Noah and Hayden would be perfect in the film.

  Adam Gold had agreed to come on board as a producer, stunt arranger and also the lead character of the oldest brother, Jim Lockhart. The experience he brought with him to the project was—quite literally—worth his weight in gold!

  The search was now on to find our other main players.

  I saw Tyler Burke in a short western on YouTube and again instantly knew he would be perfect to play the youngest of the three Lockhart brothers, Carl. Tyler was a bit wary and cautious at first at being approached by a stranger, but Adam and I finally managed to convince him to join us from Chicago. Carl’s part was originally written as a minor role, but Tyler turned this trigger-happy cowboy into a much bigger character.

  We had a minimal budget, and a time span of just eight days over two weeks in which to film the project. We were begging and borrowing from friends and family.

  We needed horses—and thanks to Richard Calvert and Brandon Gomez we got them. We needed locations—thanks again Richard, the Town of Clarkdale, and Gammons Gulch Wild West Town.

  We needed wardrobe, props and ammo—thanks David Staley, and the Woods family.

  With local help from Ruth Booth (Production Assistant) we were nearly set.

  With leave booked by cast and crew the dates for filming were finalized.

  Jovany Hernandez joined us as sound man and ‘unofficial’ stills photographer.

  However we were still short of actors for three main characters.

  Adam finally managed to pull a few strings and we secured the talents of Sarah Berg and Raymond Scott with Heather Woods stepping in at the last moment to cover the role of Mrs. Tucker.

  With a dedicated cast and a very small crew, an amazing story, and some beautiful locations we were ready to shoot our mystery western thriller—Vermijo.

  Months of preparation finally paid off. It was April 2016. I met up with our main cast members and sound man, Jovany. We talked over the main characters and how they were to be played. But with such a tight schedule we had no real time for rehearsals.

  Our first week’s filming was shot up and around Cottonwood and Clarkdale, Arizona and despite a catalogue of mini disasters we all pulled through week one.

  Down to Tucson and Benson area for week two. We had four days booked in at Gammons Gulch, an authentic looking western town that has been used for many westerns over the years.

  The schedule was tight. Early starts and late finishes were the order of the day. Again we had a few mini-disasters, but with ‘true grit’ determination, hard work and commitment from the entire team even that wild windstorm on that final day was not going to
stop us from completing the film. As the shadows crept their way across the town on that last Friday, and the sky slowly darkened, it was touch and go whether we would get that ‘final’ shot that we desperately needed. But we did.

  IT WAS A WRAP!

  I have been asked a few times if I would do it all again and make another western.

  YOU BETCHA!

  Who is Paul Vernon?

  Paul was brought up in the UK on a diet of television and B movie westerns from an early age, but he never imagined he’d get to film his own western.

  His first western was a cine-poem. He approached Aaron Watson, the Texas country singer, asking permission to use his 2001 song Strong Arm of the Law. ‘It was a long time favorite of mine with its simple but powerful story. I knew it would make a great short film.’ Paul added his own ending, reinforcing the message - ‘he’ll be a ranger till he takes his last draw.’

  Nine months in the planning, Paul shot the film in just five days on location in Arizona, though it was not without incident. ‘We were about to film our river scene when a group of weekend canoeists came into shot. I’d thought about avoiding jet vapor trails and electricity cables but no-one told me to expect sailors!’

  Paul took on most of the behind the scenes and post production roles. The project was self-financed, using a small cast and crew of volunteers and with the help of individuals in the local communities. While out in America Paul was interviewed on Rawhide Radio.