Dead Man's Ranch

by Ralph Compton

  The scarecrow man shrugged. “They loaded up a few strongboxes. If I could get into them things, we wouldn’t need the young’un.”

  Patting the youngest member of the gang once more on the shoulders, Jake said, “That’s right. Eli here can crack open the devil’s own coin purse. Ain’t that so?”

  “Yeah,” Eli said. “It is.”

  Neither Jake nor any of the other men in the gang knew for certain whose money was down there. They’d heard rumors of a bank shipping funds to cover a payroll or provide a loan to a large customer with deep pockets, but none of them had cared enough to ferret out the truth. There were even rumors that some businessman was shipping a bribe to a politician, but when there was a large batch of cash involved, speculations were bound to arise. Those fires were stoked even higher when that money was ferried about in a rolling spectacle like a crudely armored wagon. More than likely, the money was just a payroll being shipped by a company that had been robbed one too many times already. All most of the gang cared about was that the money was inside the wagon and there was lots of it.

  But there was a different kind of glint in Eli’s eyes when he stared down at that trail. It was a dull, yet intense thing that hinted at a hotter fire deep beneath his surface. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

  The gang mustered like a disciplined army regiment. They kept low so as not to skyline themselves before enough of the ridge was between them and the men riding on the wagon below. When it was safe to move faster, they broke into a run toward the horses that were tethered to trees nearby. Having already scouted out the area while waiting for the wagon to roll by, all of the men knew their way down the narrow path around the ridge, through a stand of trees, and across a short stretch of bushes that had been turned into scorched brambles by an unforgiving sun.

  It was no surprise for Jake to fire the first shot and when Hank joined in, Eli’s world became a mush of cacophonous sound. Despite the horse’s jostling movement, he kept his eyes locked upon the wagon. Even as the animal wove between pits left by deep puddles or jumped over a fallen tree, Eli kept his eyes glued to the wagon. As soon as the ground in front of him leveled out, he snapped his reins and rode ahead of his outlaw pack.

  “You two move around to the other side of that contraption!” Jake shouted. “I’ll see to it the kid don’t get himself killed!”

  Cody and Hank peeled away to circle around the back of the wagon. Compared to the horses that had swarmed around it, the iron-encrusted vehicle might as well have been standing still. It was far from defenseless, however, as rifle barrels poked out from the slits in its side to spout smoke and lead at the gang. Bullets hissed through the air past Eli’s head, causing him to duck down as if that would be enough to keep him safe for the remainder of the journey. Before the rifle rounds could get any closer, they were diverted toward a greater threat.

  Howling like a mad dog, Jake gripped his reins in one hand and a .44 Smith & Wesson in the other. Rather than fire wildly at the wagon, he gazed along the top of his barrel as if he had all the time in the world to take his shot. When he squeezed his trigger, sparks flew from the edge of one of the slits in the wagon’s armor and angry curses echoed within. More shots cracked through the air on the other side of the wagon as the second half of the gang was greeted by another batch of riflemen. Eli tapped his heels against his horse’s sides and surged forward as the spark in his eyes grew to a roaring flame.

  “Bring this thing to a halt!” Jake bellowed.

  The driver responded with a barking command directed at his team. The horses pounded their hooves against the rocky ground even harder as leather straps slapped against their backs. The shotgunner emerged from behind the wooden barricade atop the wagon like a target in a shooting gallery to unleash a smoky payload from one barrel and then the other. Jake had already veered away from the wagon by the time hot lead ripped through the air and fired at the shotgunner, clipping his shoulder and spinning him around to collide with the driver. Both men wobbled atop the wagon before becoming entangled in the reins. Once that happened, the team was pulled to the right, causing the entire wagon to lurch.

  Eli was close enough to see in through one of the rifle slits by now. When the man behind the weapon poking out through the opening looked his way, Eli had plenty of time to grab hold of the rifle and yank it from him. He could have taken it away completely if the slit had been just a bit wider. As it was, the rifle clanged against iron while the man inside struggled to regain control of it. The driver’s predicament caused the rattling iron monstrosity to swing away from Eli, taking the rifle barrel from his grasp and causing something of a panic for Hank and Cody on the other side.

  Jake fired two more shots before snarling, “Bring this thing to a stop or I will!” Although the driver had gotten his team pointed in the right direction again, the wagon had slowed to something slightly better than a crawl. This allowed Jake to grab on to a post at the front corner of the wagon as if he meant to hop from his saddle and onto the driver’s lap.

  With the blood pounding through his veins amid the hammering rhythm of his heart, Eli felt as if he were charging down the trail at a breakneck speed instead of keeping pace with a wagon that was barely moving at all. Now that Jake had gotten under the driver’s skin, the wagon slowed even more. The riflemen inside were still ready for a fight, but were preoccupied by Cody and Hank. That meant Eli was able to get back to the slit on his side a second after the rifle barrel poked through it again. Still rattled from his last confrontation as well as the unpredictable movements of the wagon itself, the rifleman on Eli’s side pulled his trigger before he even had a target.

  No bullet chewed through Eli’s skull, but a mighty loud screech pealed through his ears. Apart from his hammering pulse and the dull thump of his own horse’s hooves against the ground, he couldn’t hear a thing. And yet, not so much as a hint of panic showed on his face as he pointed one of his .38s at the rifle slit and shouted at the man on the other side. Eli only had a vague idea of what he said, but it was enough to get the man to relinquish his grip on the weapon.

  The wagon came to a halt and the gang surrounded it like a pack of dogs vying for the biggest chunk of a discarded hunk of meat. Eli was still mostly deaf as he came up alongside the wagon and stared in through the slit. His eyes were searching for one thing, but found another as all three men within the armored box turned to face him. The pair that had been dealing with Cody and Hank still held their rifles and the man on Eli’s side had gotten to the pistol holstered at his hip. They all looked through the slit back at Eli and struggled to get their weapons pointed in his direction. From the corner of one eye, Eli could see the shotgunner on top of the wagon swing his weapon around to aim at him.

  For that brief instant, Eli felt as if he’d drifted outside his own skin to watch everything from afar. Even if his ears hadn’t been ravaged by the close-range gunshot, he doubted he would have been able to hear much of anything. He recalled folks talking about something like that when they’d been about to die. Their bodies drifted up and everything got real quiet. It was said to have been peaceful. As far as Eli could tell, he was about to find out firsthand.

  Just as well, he figured.

  Once more, the gang acted like a well-oiled machine. Jake brought the shotgunner down with one shot while Hank stuck the barrel of a .44 in through a slit on the other side of the wagon and pulled his trigger. The gunshot sounded like a muffled thump to Eli’s tortured ears, and the bullet rattled around inside the wagon like a pebble being shaken in a tin can. All three riflemen flopped onto their sides or bellies in their haste to clear a path for the bullet or any more that might be following on its heels. Even Eli could make out the dull murmur of those men’s excited voices, but he couldn’t see any blood. When he felt the rough hand slap down on his shoulder, Eli twisted around while bringing his pistol up to bear.

  Jake took his hand away and stepped back. His other hand kept his .44 pointed up at the driver while Cody mad
e his way to the top of the wagon. Although Eli couldn’t make out the words coming from Jake’s mouth, there was no mistaking the victory etched into the gang leader’s smile.