The Tylers 1

by Neil Hunter

  We rode the rest of that day and all through the night. William Thorpe knew the hills well. He’d made sure of the way Pike was heading before he’d come after us and now he led us by the most direct route to intercept the trail of the outlaw bunch.

  Dawn found us high up. We were riding through heavy-wooded country now, thick with brush and grass. If we’d had time to look we would have seen that it was good country, green and pleasant. But we had no such thoughts on our minds.

  Ahead of us the hills merged into rugged mountain peaks. They swept up into the empty sky, dark and cold-looking, the tips of the peaks white with snow. Pike and company would be heading that way, hoping to leave the territory by crossing the mountains. If they reached those mountains before we caught up with them our task would be one hell of a sight harder. A whole regiment could hide itself in those towering expanses of rock.

  At noon we stopped long enough to rest and water the horses. Swede got a fire going, put coffee on. We ate bacon and beans, biscuits, and drank coffee. A short rest and then we were in the saddle again.

  Once more we rode all night, helped by a full moon as we had been the previous night. Thorpe led us through a land turned to velvet-soft shadow and silver light. With the darkness came the cold and we put on coats and gloves to hold back the chill.

  The new day found us in a land of canyons and deep ravines thick with brush and trees. High green slopes rose all around us. It was perfect ambush country. It made a man feel exposed and naked just thinking about it.

  About mid-morning Riley, who had gone on ahead, rejoined us. I could tell by his expression that he had found something.

  ‘Up ahead,’ he said, ‘is where they camped last night. I figure they’re no more than two hours in front of us.’

  I let Riley take the lead now. We pushed on fast, covering the gap that separated us from Pike and the Reevers in good time.

  And suddenly Riley threw up his arm, reining in his horse. I rode to join him. He pointed and I followed the direction of his finger. We were on the crest of a tree-filled slope that curved down to a sun-dappled narrow canyon. And down there, strung out in a long line was William Thorpe’s herd, with riders hazing it along.

  I scanned the horses and riders.

  Where was Judith?

  I wanted to see her, to know she was still all right. And then Riley touched my arm and pointed again. I looked. It was Judith. She was wearing the dress I’d brought her from Tarrant. Will Pike was riding the horse next to her. I felt my anger starting to rise. I clamped down hard. This was no time to start getting reckless.

  The rest of our crew had reached us now and for a moment we all sat and watched the progress of the outlaw bunch down on the canyon floor.

  I turned to William Thorpe. ‘How many were there?’

  ‘Thirteen altogether,’ he said.

  ‘Fair odds,’ Riley said.

  ‘There’s only nine of us,’ I said.

  Crown glanced up from checking his handgun. ‘Lew always likes it a little thick. Gives him a chance to be selective.’

  Before anyone could say anymore a rifle shot broke the leafy calm and a rider broke from the trees midway down the slope, heading back to where the herd threaded its lazy way. We had been spotted. I forgot all my notions of a surprise attack. All we could do now was to wade on in and have it out with Pike and his crew.

  ‘Try and make every shot count,’ I yelled as we took our horses down the long slope.

  As I rode I tried to keep my eye on Pike and Judith but I lost them in the sudden confusion. It seemed like every gun in creation had opened up. Bullets hummed through the air like angry wasps. They clipped the leaves and chewed chunks of bark from the trees.

  As I felt my horse hit the canyon floor I swung from the saddle. My handgun was empty and I grabbed my rifle and jacked the lever. There were a number of empty saddles and more than one man down on the floor. I had no time to notice who they were.

  A big man on a black horse was suddenly before me. He had a gun in one hand and he fired as he got it lined on me. I felt the bullet clip my sleeve.

  Then I upped my rifle and drove three quick shots at him. Dust flew from his shirt as my bullets caught him in the chest. He fell backwards out of the saddle and hit the ground on his face.

  I realized that I was more or less out in the open, too much exposed for my liking. I headed for a large, scarred rock but as I neared it I was suddenly confronted by a dark-haired man with a bleeding gash down one cheek and gun in one hand. He was a big man and I recalled seeing him with the Reevers when we’d had the run-in during the first drive.

  For a moment we were motionless. Then we both moved. He swung his gun up at me, dogging the hammer back. I leaned in on him and swung my rifle at him. The butt cracked down across his arm. I heard bone crack. His gun went off, the bullet plowing into the ground at our feet. I swung my rifle again, driving the butt into his face. He gave a gurgling yell and went over backwards. His head slammed onto hard rock as he hit the ground and his body arched in pain. He flopped over onto his stomach. The back of his skull had cracked and had split open like a crushed eggshell. I turned away, feeling sick.

  A bullet howled off the rock close by. Sharp chips of stone stung my cheek. I eased myself behind the rock and returned the fire, loosing off three or four shots. I saw a man throw his arms wide, stumble and fall.

  The heavy gunfire began to slack off. I saw a man emerge from cover, throwing his gun out before him. Then another one appeared. I came out from my rock and stepped out into the open. Crown stepped into view. He had his gun in his left hand. His right arm hung at his side, his shirt sleeve bloody.

  Bill Ward rode out of the trees nearby. He had his rifle trained on a thin, dark-faced man who was nursing a bloody leg.

  ‘Brig, Pike and the Reever boys took off with Miss Thorpe. I saw them riding over yonder ridge.’

  I looked round for my horse. Locating it I went over and gathered the reins. As I led it back to where Crown and the others were standing I saw Swede coming across the canyon floor. He was carrying someone in his arms and a hard knot of coldness hit me as I saw who it was. Jacob was close behind him, his face tight.

  Swede knelt down and gently laid William Thorpe on the grass. I didn’t have to speak the words that were in my thoughts. I only had to look at the patch of blood on Thorp’s shirt, the dark hole in the centre, right over the heart.

  ‘He didn’t know it had happened, Brig,’ Jacob said. ‘He’d just put down a man who had a bead on me. Jack Reever took him with a rifle. If I hadn’t run out of shells I might of stopped it.’

  First Joel Welcome, now William Thorpe. Two good friends dead, killed in a few days. I wondered how I would break the news to Judith.

  But first I had to get her back, away from Will Pike and the Reevers. I had to get her away before they did anything to her. Pike’s plan had not gone as smoothly as he had anticipated. He would be touchy now, ready to hit out at anything and anyone. Right now Judith was the closest in line.

  I reloaded my guns, made sure I had spare ammunition in my belt.

  ‘Brig, you figure on going alone?’

  I glanced at Seth, for it was his question.

  I'm going to fetch Judith back, Seth, and I don’t want anyone in my way.’

  ‘It’s three to one, Brig,’ Seth said. ‘Don’t you think the chances would even out if Jacob and me came along?’

  ‘You know how I feel about you two. But this is my fight, Seth. Will Pike wants a settling and so do I. Seth, he’s taken the girl I’m going to marry. He’s going to have to answer for that. And to me only.’

  He stared at me hard for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. A faint smile touched his mouth.

  ‘All right, little brother,’ he said. ‘But you take care. We want you back alive. You and Judith.’

  I mounted up and turned my horse towards the ridge where Bill Ward had seen Pike and the Reevers and Judith go.

  Behind me the remaining Reever me
n were being disarmed and herded together. They would each be given a horse and told to ride out of the territory. I figured that they would do just that. Rough and tough they might be but they had sense enough to know when to quit.

  As I headed for the ridge I passed the scattered herd. A touch of regret hit me as I saw those cattle. William Thorpe had had plans for them. He’d wanted to build a herd that would be known far and wide. He had died for that idea. I hoped that I wouldn’t let him down on the dreams I’d laid out before him, the life I had promised his daughter. I thought of Judith. There was no question — I had to reach her, take her from Will Pike before he decided she was of no further use to him. Once he had reached that decision her life would matter very little to him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Beyond the ridge the tracks were easy to follow in the scattered snow. Four horses and they were moving fast, not bothering to cover their back trail. Plainly they expected to be followed, maybe they were hoping to be followed. Will Pike knew enough about me to realize that I would follow him. He had Judith and he knew I’d never quit until I had her back. He was using her as a lure, sure that I would come after her, and him. He was right. Follow I would and he would get his showdown.

  I pushed my horse as hard as I dared. The way was difficult, heavy brush and tumbled formations of rock making fast riding dangerous. But I had only one thought in mind. Judith. I had to get to her before she was harmed. I had no illusions about the kind of men who held her. They were violent, wild men who held little regard for anything or anyone. In general the men of the West, though rough and ready, were noted for their respect of womenfolk. A man could get away with a lot but let him mistreat a woman and he was asking for trouble. Pike and the Reevers had no worries on that score. It made little difference to them what they did. In their regard for human life they were the lowest of the low. And it was that fact that bothered me most. Let them decide that Judith was in their way and they would kill her without thought.

  This thought was what drove me on, urging my horse through the brush at breakneck speed. I had to reach Pike and company before darkness came. Once night fell they would have a better chance of getting out of sight. They could hole up or set an ambush at their leisure.

  I figured it to be mid-afternoon when I spotted them for the first time. They were above me, walking their horses up a long, rocky slope. They were about a half-mile in front of me. Above them was an area of treeless hillside, a jumble of scarred, tumbled rock, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. Once they got in there it was going to be difficult getting them out.

  By the time I had negotiated the long slope and had rested my horse for awhile, more than an hour had gone by. I had neither sight nor sound of Pike or the Reevers. They were somewhere in the rocks that stretched out before me. They could be deep in the jumbled mass by now, I realized. Then again one of them might be hidden behind the nearest boulder. A rifle could have been trained on me right there and then.

  I got down out of my saddle and took my canteen. The water was warm, but at least it quenched my thirst. It was warm up here. There was very little snow on this bare face of the hills now. I noticed how silent it was up here. There was nothing but the sky and the hard, dry earth. There wasn’t even the sound of a bird, the buzz of an insect. I didn’t mind a peaceful sort of silence but the utter deadness of this place was liable to upset my nerves.

  I put my canteen back on my saddle and took my rifle, levering a round into the breech. I figured to do a little looking round before I went any farther.

  And then the whip crack report of a rifle shattered the silence. I felt the tug of the bullet as it clipped my left shirt-sleeve. I threw myself face down, my own rifle thrust forward.

  The hidden rifleman fired again, his second bullet kicking up dirt only inches from my face. I rolled off to the right and as I came to rest I fired at the place where I’d spotted a puff of smoke. I must have come close for I heard a sharp yell, then saw a figure push upright from a low rock. Whoever it was he didn’t figure to stand and fight, for he turned and vanished into the maze of rocks at his back. I shoved to my feet and took off after him, not worrying too much about cover. I was close to becoming a slight angry, and when I get in that frame of mind I tend to let caution slip. Just of late I’d been shot at and generally knocked about to the point where I’d had enough. I’d lost two good friends at the hands of some of the territory’s worst scum and I was more than ready to start kicking back. I’d never in my life deliberately gone looking for trouble but here and now I was itching to start some.

  I hit those rocks at a dead run, my eyes searching ahead of me for the ambusher. For a couple of minutes it seemed as if I’d lost him but then he showed himself some way ahead. He was dodging in and out of the rocks like a scared rabbit. I halted long enough to throw a shot his way. My bullet clouted rock close to him and he stopped dead for a second, turning to look my way.

  I didn’t need a second look to recognize who he was. Thin, with a dark beard. Wearing a faded rose-colored shirt and striped pants.

  Jack Reever.

  He put up his rifle and fired. The bullet made a high whining sound as it skimmed off rock just inches away from my left foot.

  My reaction was automatic. Almost without thought I upped my rifle and took quick aim, fired, levered, and fired again. I saw Reever throw up his arms and stagger back, fall out of sight.

  I made my way over to where I’d seen him drop. As I got close I eased off. I didn’t know how bad he was hit. I didn’t know if he was hit. More than one man had been drawn into a trap like that. I moved slowly, making as little sound as I could.

  I reached the large rock that hid Jack Reever from my sight. I put my rifle down and took out my handgun, easing the hammer back. Gently I began to move around the rock.

  And then Reever’s rifle fired, almost in my face. I threw myself to one side, twisting my body away from the bullets that came at me. I went to my knees, slamming the side of my head against hard rock, but I was able to put my gun on Reever as he tried to bring his rifle round to bear on me.

  He was close, no more than six feet away. I could see where one of my rifle bullets had hit him in the chest. He seemed to be bleeding badly. He was bleeding from the mouth and his shirt front was wet and red. He was hurt bad but he was determined to try and take me along with him.

  He almost did. There was only a second in it when it came to firing the next shot. Somehow I beat him to it. I wasn’t thinking much about it, just doing it. I loosed off my first shot, held the trigger back, and worked the hammer with the heel of my left hand until the remaining five shots were fired. I’m no believer in fanning a six-gun for I’ve seen the chaos that it can cause, but it was the quickest way to get the most lead into Jack Reever before he let loose on me with his rifle. Like I said, fanning isn’t exactly noted for accuracy, but Jack was only a few feet away from me and he took every single one of those bullets. They put him down in such a way that I was in no doubt as to whether he’d ever get up again.

  I pushed to my feet as the racket of my shots bounced back and forth among the rocks. My head was aching from the bang I’d given it and I could feel blood running down my face. I stood for a moment, trying to sort out my senses, and watched Jack Reever die on the hard, sun-bleached rock.

  I watched him die and I wondered just how anyone could have built up the image of the romantic gunfighter, the dashing hero of the dime novels and the newspaper articles that were avidly devoured in the East, if he’d ever seen a man die like Jack Reever had. The only answer I could figure out was that if a man had never seen another die violently then he just didn’t know what he was talking about. There was no romance, no heroics in the way Jack Reever died. Just a lot of blood and sounds that didn’t even sound human. My six bullets, fired at close range, had done terrible damage to Jack Reever’s chest and stomach. The wounds were big enough to put a clenched fist in where the bullets had come out, ragged and ugly where they’
d gone in.

  I punched out the empty shell-cases and thumbed fresh loads into my gun, and when I glanced up again Reever was dead. I felt little for him. You can shoot a man and regret it but Jack Reever was one of the mean ones, the kind who would bite off your hand while you tried to help him. He had died the way he had lived. He had lived without pity and he died without anyone pitying him. It was hard, I knew, but it was just and it was possibly the only time when justice ever touched Jack Reever.

  I took up my rifle and replaced the spent loads. As I worked my mind was racing ahead, trying to work out what was going on in the rocks and boulders beyond me. Will Pike and Ollie Reever would be wondering what had happened back here. It came to me that Jack Reever had pushed things too far. Pike would be wanting to face me himself. I figured that Reever had been sent to simply keep watch on me and nothing else. His job would have been to observe and then report back to Pike. But Reever had taken it on himself to try and finish it. He very nearly had done. And Pike would be doing some wondering now, I realized. He and Ollie would be on the alert more than ever now. I’d cut the odds down to two but there would be no easy way out of this. If anything Judith was in more danger than before. I had to get to her and get her away from Pike and Ollie Reever, fast.

  Moving off I eased my way through the jumbled, bleached rocks, my rifle held ready. Somewhere ahead of me Pike and Ollie Reever were waiting. They were waiting and ready to kill without hesitation, this I knew; but I was in the same frame of mind myself, so it came down to one simple fact — the one who was fastest with a gun when the time came would be the one who walked away when this was all over.

  I moved as fast as I dared. Speed was what counted from here on in. I had no knowledge as to the eventual plans of Pike and Ollie Reever. All I did know was that they had Judith and that they were likely to do anything to her if the thought came to them.