Blood Bond 9

by William W. Johnstone

  Rough hands pushed Tommy toward Petty. He half stumbled, but managed to keep his balance. Petty yanked the boy toward him. Lilly lunged forward, but two of the others jerked her so strongly that her head snapped back. They leered at her as she struggled.

  “Leave the boy alone!” she yelled. “I’ll give you anything you want!”

  “You will, anyway,” Petty said. He placed the noose around the boy’s neck, pulled it snug, and tied the other end around the saddle horn of his horse. “You all deserve this. It will be a pleasure to watch you die.”

  Lilly struggled some more. For the first time in her life, she yelled out profanities at Petty. He ignored her and put his hand on the horse, ready to slap its rump and send the boy to his death.

  Chapter Twenty

  Matt Bodine and Sam Two-Wolves had been in many races against time in their adventures together. The stakes in some of those contests were their very lives. This race was different in that the life of a young boy was at stake.

  The two blood brothers rode faster than they had ever gone before. The countryside was a blur as they made a direct line to the Brandom homestead.

  “Almost there!” Matt yelled. “How are we doing?”

  “We’re catching up to them!” Sam yelled back. “Those tracks were made just minutes ago!”

  Matt was a good tracker, but even he had to give credit to Sam. Nobody else he had ever known would have been able to know so many details from just a few tracks, especially while on the back of a racing horse. With Sam, it was almost as much instinct as training.

  Matt also kicked his horse into greater speed, and for a second pulled slightly ahead of Sam. Through the trees, the two blood brothers could see the outlaws near the house.

  “I’m going to circle around the back way,” Matt said.

  Sam acknowledged the comment by pushing his horse even faster.

  Matt had no plan. In a situation like this, there was no way to plan. A person could only jump in and think on his feet, making things happen as best he could.

  Sam crossed the hill where Jack was buried. The first thing he noticed was the gang of outlaws gathered together in Lilly’s front yard. The second thing he noticed was the rope hanging over the tree limb with the noose on the other end around Tommy’s neck. He was almost too far away.

  Suddenly, Matt’s horse burst around the barn, though Matt was no longer on its back! It was an unusual distraction, but it did the job. The horse sprinted into the group, sending the thugs scattering. The confusion lasted only for a few seconds, but it was enough for Sam to gain additional precious feet.

  Sam pulled his Colt and fired. It was an almost impossible shot, even for Sam, though he came close. The slug whistled past Petty’s ear. He was startled and pulled his own gun. Sam continued to race toward him. Realizing his mistake, Petty changed the revolver to his other hand and raised his arm.

  His hand came down solidly on the horse’s rump. The horse jumped, tightening the hanging rope.

  From the barn came a rebel yell and a flying figure. Matt ran and leaped from the hay loft, landing next to the horse. He grabbed at the halter and tried to hold it back with sheer strength. The horse, scared amidst all the noise and confusion, started to buck. Matt held on tightly, hoping to create some slack in the rope.

  Sam was now so close that Petty could see the dark eyes blazing through him. Sam holstered his gun, then reached for the large knife he always carried. Petty figured Sam would try to cut him as he passed.

  Petty shifted position, crouched and shot.

  The bullet whistled through empty air as Sam leaped from the horse’s back, sailing over Petty.

  Sam grabbed hold of the tree limb with one hand and sliced at the rope with the other. The razor-sharp blade almost instantly severed the rope. Tommy, who had been forced to his tiptoes, fell to the ground.

  A dozen men swarmed over the two blood brothers.

  Matt was paying most of his attention to the thousand pounds of horseflesh trying to bite, kick, and buck him off. He could not make out clearly who his attackers were, but didn’t hesitate an instant. He raised his boots and allowed the horse to put the force behind the kicks. One of the men backed away with a broken jaw. A second man lay moaning on the ground after he was kicked in the groin. A third man narrowly escaped as a hoof grazed his head.

  The remaining outlaws gave Matt and the thrashing horse a wide berth, when Matt suddenly let go of the animal. He rolled along the ground, coming up with a Colt in his hand. His gun blazed, doubling over one of the thugs and sending the others running for cover.

  King Petty didn’t like what he was seeing. For the first time in his life, his wishes were being successfully opposed. It was as if Sam and Matt had somehow materialized out of thin air to thwart his plans.

  He watched as his men were taken out. They were all tough men, thugs who in some cases were almost as violent as him. Yet, they were being taken out by the two blood brothers as if they were nothing.

  Sam cut down the boy and looked straight at Petty. The outlaw had never seen such a look of rage and anger that was now in Sam’s face. The eyes seemed to burn through him. Petty shot at Sam, who had already leaped to the ground.

  Petty turned and saw Conn taking the woman from the other two men. Behind him more of his men were running toward Sam. If they were trying to escape, they were going in the wrong direction.

  “Let me have her,” Petty growled. He grabbed Lilly and pulled her roughly from Conn’s grasp.

  “Sure, King ...whatever you want.”

  “I’m getting out of here. Maybe those two bastards cheated me out of everything else, but they’re not taking the woman away from me.”

  “Are you crazy? She’d just slow you down.”

  “Get out of my way!” Petty screamed. He grabbed a horse, threw the woman onto the saddle and jumped up behind her.

  Conn felt the hot lead flying around him. He decided that retreat in this case would be the wisest action. He found the nearest horse and took off just seconds behind Petty.

  Petty wasn’t sure where he could go. He knew that there was no place he could go that he would be safe. Sam would find him and try to kill him for what he had tried to do. Even if he could find a way to escape Sam, now that Matt was a sworn-in lawman, he could bring in the law from all over the country to search for him. For all Petty knew, he may have even violated federal laws.

  No matter. He was King Petty. He had owned the area around Snake Creek for years. He would find a way to still get what he wanted, when he wanted.

  Now he wanted the woman. And he would have her.

  He headed for Snake Creek, thinking he might lose any pursuers in its shallow water.

  Sam could see the action clearly from where he was holding on to the tree limb, but didn’t wait around for anybody to start using him for target practice. He spotted Conn with Lilly and saw King racing toward them. With a knife in his free hand, Sam could not get his gun clear of its holster and fire soon enough. He swung toward the small group, landing lightly on his feet, right in front of four outlaws running toward him.

  All had guns, but seemed unnerved to find two hundred pounds of fury standing before them, knife gleaming in the sunlight. At that time, in spite of his short hair and western garb, he looked like his ancestors had during the height of battle—an Indian warrior out for blood. The outlaws had their guns in hand, but hesitated for an instant before shooting.

  It was an instant too long.

  Sam’s knife flashed, and the unlucky outlaw closest to him fell to the ground with a slash in him from his neck to his shoulder. As his blood started to stain the ground, Sam thrust in the opposite direction, opening a wound in the guts of a second outlaw.

  The other two outlaws finally regained their senses and started shooting. Terrified of the figure before them, they fired wildly, emptying their guns without hitting anything but dirt. Sam kept coming at them, and with two quick swipes they were history, faces down to the ground, guns mo
tionless in their lifeless hands.

  Sam was barely breathing hard, looking to take on anybody else foolish enough to stand in his way.

  Except suddenly no other outlaws were left alive and standing.

  Matt stood, his gun still in hand. Though his back was to Sam, he knew exactly where his partner stood and what he was doing. He worked his way slowly backward toward Sam.

  Sam also backed toward Matt so that they would meet in the middle of the yard, under the tree. They were ready for an attack from any direction.

  Sam kneeled down and talked softly to Tommy.

  “Are you all right, boy?” he asked.

  Tommy rubbed his neck and tried to smile. The words came out in a choke.

  “I’m still alive,” Tommy said. “What about Derrell? They shot him.”

  Sam helped Tommy lean against the tree and looked at the bodies scattered around the yard.

  Derrell Brown was not among them.

  “They may have shot him, but I reckon they didn’t kill him,” Sam suggested. “Unless a body can get up and walk away. I don’t see him here now.”

  “Two others that aren’t here,” Matt said. “The mighty King is gone. Along with Lilly. Also his crony, Conn. I was trying to get a bead on them, but it wasn’t possible holding on to that bronc.”

  “I saw them, but from where I was hanging couldn’t get a shot, either,” Sam said.

  “We saved the boy, and that was the most important thing at the time,” Matt said. He looked around. “Damned, I didn’t see which way they went.”

  A running horse was heard from around the barn. Matt and Sam both turned instantly, guns at the ready, but dropped them to their sides when they saw it was a friend, not an enemy.

  Lester Brown galloped into view.

  “I’ve been trying to stay close,” he explained. “I know Derrell can take care of himself, but I didn’t want to take chances. I heard the shooting and . . .” He whistled. “Damned, you boys work fast. I’m glad you all ain’t enemies of mine.”

  Sam’s eyes scanned the ground. “I’ve got the trail. I’m going after Petty. He’s mine.”

  “Only if you get to him first,” Matt said.

  “You can count on it.” Sam leaped onto his horse’s back and galloped down the path toward the creek.

  Matt quickly found his own horse and mounted.

  “Lester, stay here and look after the boy,” Matt said. “We’ll be back, Tommy. And we’ll have your mom. You can count on it.”

  Lester put his hand on the boy’s shoulder as the two blood brothers disappeared from sight.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Derrell hurt, and he hurt bad. He wasn’t sure where he had taken the slug, though most of the pain seemed to come from his leg. He gritted his teeth and tried to fight off the waves of nausea and blackness that threatened to engulf him. He felt sick inside. He had failed Lilly and the boy. He had let King Petty surprise them and defeat them. Derrell, however, was still alive and planned to do something.

  He lay on the ground in pain, hearing the gunshots and the fight. With great effort, he finally pushed himself up from the ground. His head cleared enough to see Matt and Sam destroying Petty’s men.

  And then he saw Lilly. He was suddenly awake and clearly saw the action as Petty yanked the woman from Conn’s grip, threw her onto a horse, and mounted behind her.

  Derrell tried to ignore the pain in his leg and stood. His movement was almost unnoticed amidst the chaos going on around him. One of Petty’s men rode by, his eyes on Sam and his knife. Derrell pulled the rider from his horse and grabbed the reins and saddle. The horse, already anxious from all the commotion, tried to run. Derrell held on and pulled himself onto the saddle, finally finding the stirrups.

  He followed Petty and the woman.

  Petty moved fast, but Derrell had been riding this land since he was a kid. Even with the pain stabbing at him, Derrell knew every hill, gully, and creek. He managed to gain ground on the outlaw.

  Petty seemed to be headed for Snake Creek, from which the town had gained its name. Derrell couldn’t figure out why Petty was going in that direction, unless he had some vague idea of losing his tracks in the water. It seemed like a stupid idea to Derrell, but then Petty had always been more concerned with killing and raping than with learning the land. If he had taken the time to learn, Petty would have realized that if the spring sun had warmed up the land enough, it would be bad news for the outlaw. This did not concern Derrell. What did worry him was the woman that Petty had kidnapped.

  Derrell glanced down at his leg and saw the fresh blood soaking his pants. He still wasn’t sure how badly he was shot, but he knew that he couldn’t keep going much longer if he kept losing blood.

  He took a gamble. He knew a shortcut to the creek. He decided to take it, hoping to catch Petty there.

  Derrell turned the horse and urged it forward with his good leg. A wave of blackness tried to engulf him, but he managed to stay in the saddle.

  In minutes, he had pushed through the thick underbrush and saw the waters of snake Creek. It looked cool and inviting. At certain times of the year it was a good place to fish, as Matt and Sam had found out. At other times, it was a good place to avoid. Sometimes even natives didn’t know when those times would be.

  Derrell passed the former camp where Matt and Sam had had their fishing trip interrupted by Petty’s men. That time now seemed a long time ago.

  Petty suddenly came into view, not bothering to slow his horse as it waded into the creek.

  Behind him was Sam, his gun drawn and ready to shoot.

  Conn was not particularly loyal to any man. He had joined up with King Petty because he knew a good thing when he saw it. In any ways, he and Petty were cut from the same kind of cloth. As long as it suited his needs, he followed Petty’s wishes. Now that Petty had lost—and lost big—Conn decided it was time to move on. It was the pattern that had always worked for him before.

  He pushed his horse hard for several miles, then slowed down, feeling he was out of danger. He stopped, dismounted, and took inventory of his situation. He had some money and a few supplies in his saddlebags, since he was always prepared to make a quick move, if necessary. He had a good horse and his guns. He had made a clean getaway.

  Conn whistled softly.

  “What are you so happy about? Didn’t think you’d really get away, did you?”

  The outlaw turned with hands in the air. Matt was standing, legs spread apart, his gun still in its holster.

  “So. Matthew Bodine. Why are you following me? King Petty is the man you should be after.”

  “Sam will take care of him. If there’s anything left of Petty, I can arrest him later. I’m going to bring you in for the principle of the thing. I know you’ve been involved with Petty’s operations. I’d be willing to bet I could prove you had a hand with that attempted murder of the boy. I’ve got enough to hang you.”

  Conn laughed mockingly. “Matthew Bodine. City Marshal. Hell, you ain’t nothing. You’ve got no jurisdiction outside the town. You can’t touch me.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll be the one to worry about that. Doesn’t make any difference to me. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Tommy Brandom. Are you going to come along without any problem? Or are you going to make me take you in with force?”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, are you, Bodine? You don’t even have a gun in your hand. What makes you think you could outdraw me?”

  “I know it. You do, too. Just unbuckle your gunbelt and drop it.”

  “You’re as crazy as Petty, except maybe in a different way. Why risk your life to take me in?”

  “Maybe you said it. Maybe I am crazy. Doesn’t make any difference. Stop stalling.”

  Conn reached for his buckle, but at the last instant went for the gun. It cleared leather and he shot. The bullet went low. It whizzed past Matt and hit the ground behind him.

  Matt’s draw was a blur. He shot once with deadly accuracy. The slug
hit Conn’s cheek, blasted through bone, exited through the back of his head. His eyes suddenly went empty as his hand instinctively clutched at his face, blood spurting through his fingers. He fell, blood coating his arm and running down his shirtfront.

  Sam was surprised to find Derrell so close to catching up with Petty. Sam could see Derrell’s bloody clothes and knew he was hurt. He suddenly had a lot more respect for the other man. Derrell had more courage than Sam had realized.

  Petty’s horse splashed into the creek. Sam didn’t shoot, afraid of hitting Lilly by mistake.

  Derrell chased Petty into the creek and with his last strength reached out and grabbed Petty by the arm. The outlaw turned in disbelief and tried to push Derrell away. At the same time, Lilly punched out and twisted in the saddle, forcing Petty off balance. He started to fall. Sam now was able to catch up. He jumped off the horse on top of Petty, forcing him into the water.

  Sam struck with a vicious right to Petty’s midsection, followed by a left to the head. The outlaw, with a crazy look in his eyes, started to lash out wildly with blows to Sam’s face and stomach. Sam blocked most of them, but a few managed to get through. The blows that hit sounded like a stick hitting against a side of beef.

  Sam ducked underneath a particularly reckless blow and threw Petty into the water near a pile of brush.

  Just a few feet away, Derrell was trying to help Lilly toward dry land, and yelled out.

  “Snakes!”

  The churning water had disturbed a nest of snakes in the brush, and they were swimming wildly toward Derrell and Lilly. Derrell, though still in pain, pushed Lilly toward the shore and started to grab at the snakes. He threw the one in his hand as far downstream as he could, but there were too many of them. Several bit him. Lilly screamed and pulled them off Derrell as they both moved toward the shore.