The Sunshine Killers

by Giles Tippette

  “I’m ready,” the man vowed. “Just one shot at that sonofabitch.”

  “But you don’t fire until I give you the word,” McGraw ordered, still peering out intently at the corner of the window. “You must not miss!”

  Saulter sat there staring thoughtfully at the figure in the snow. The safe thing would be just to pump a bullet into the man and wait. If there were anymore left they’d have to make a move sooner or later. But he hated to shoot Billy. No matter what he was or who he was in with, the man had gone to the well several times for him. And he did look hurt and act hurt. He could see the blood very distinctly against the gray of his breeches. And more, Billy just didn’t seem like the kind of man who could play such a sham trick. It all made sense; there hadn’t been a sound out of them for some time now.

  He looked up at the sun, noticing how much lower it was in the sky. It would be dark in not too long and the sky was taking on that leaden look that meant more snow. He made up his mind and decided he would go down, cautiously, and have a look. Perhaps it was all over. He would be very relieved if that was so. He was tired and hurting and cold. He thought of Letty. It would be nice to be with her in that house, drinking whiskey and lying in bed together. He put his spurs lightly to his horse, urging the animal ahead slowly.

  McGraw said, tightly, “He’s coming!”

  “One shot,” Jackhammer mumbled, “just one shot.”

  “We want him close,” McGraw ordered. “Don’t you jump the gun.” With the chance to finally close with his enemy, McGraw was regaining some of his composure.

  Saulter came on, picking his way hesitantly. He was fifty yards closer. Another one hundred and he’d be in reasonable range for the type of rifles Jackhammer and McGraw had.

  In the saloon McGraw slowly came to his knees, his rifle at the ready. On the other side of the window Jackhammer was also ready.

  Billy lay in the snow, calling over and over. “Help! Saulter, I’m bleeding to death. Help me!”

  With a little over three hundred yards to go Saulter pulled his horse up and studied the façade of the saloon. Then he looked left and then right. The only sign of life was Billy laying in the snow waving his surrender flag.

  “He’s stopped, goddammit!” McGraw gritted out through his teeth.

  “I could try a shot,” Jackhammer said. “Might have a chance.”

  “No! As soon as you put your rifle through the window he’d see it and break. Maybe—he’s moving again.” He edged his face around the sill further to see Saulter better, now going down and coming up a small hummock. “Just a little further. At a hundred yards we’ll have time for several shots.”

  On Saulter came, riding slowly, his eyes sweeping the terrain in front of him. He was within two hundred yards.

  Letty had her face pressed against the windowpane. She was almost certain she could make out some dark shadow at the corner of the saloon window. She suddenly made up her mind. “Goddammit, it’s a trap.”

  She whirled and dashed for the back door. Saulter was still beyond the women’s house, from the saloon, and about fifty yards to one side. Letty was yelling at him as she hit the snow. “Saulter! Look out! It’s a trap, they’re laying for you.” She sprinted toward him, having heavy going in the deep snow.

  He swung in the saddle, startled, looking toward her. He could tell she was agitated by the way she was waving her arms, but the wind was against her and he couldn’t make out the words she was yelling. But then she broke past the end of the house and McGraw was able to see her from the saloon. He let out a string of curses. “Fire, fire!” he yelled at Jackhammer. “Shoot him!”

  At that moment, Saulter made out one word Letty was yelling: “... trap!” He instinctively reined his horse back hard. The animal came up, wheeling and rearing. It was at that moment that they began firing from the saloon, but the horse, up on his hind legs, was hiding Saulter with his body. In the saddle Saulter could feel and hear the shells hitting his horse. He felt the animal falter, stumble, and still on his hind legs, begin to fall. He timed his leap, kicking loose from the stirrups and jumping free just before the animal hit the ground. He landed behind the animal and, without pause, wiggled up to the shivering carcass and threw his rifle down in firing position. He saw that Letty had already thrown herself facedown in the snow. “Stay down!” he yelled at her.

  At his words, Billy, who realized they’d missed, suddenly jumped to his feet and broke for the saloon. He hit the porch, skidded on the slick snow, and lost his balance. As he whirled to his feet, Saulter fired. Billy was almost facing back the way he’d come by the time the bullet took him. It hit him in the left wrist, blowing off his hand. But the bullet, hitting bone, was slightly deflected and instead of taking him square in the chest plowed a furrow through the flesh of his side. The impact knocked him into the front of the saloon and then to the porch floor. He lay there, his stump right in front of his eyes pumping out blood. “My god,” he said in shock and horror. He could feel his strength going, feel a blackness behind his eyes. He knew he must get a tourniquet on his arm before he bled to death. With his other hand he tried weakly to wrap the surrender handkerchief around his arm just at the elbow.

  They continued firing steadily at Saulter, but it was futile. He was well hidden down below his horse’s body. He could hear the shells plunking into the carcass. He looked over at Letty. He was reloaded and ready. She had worked herself deeper into the snow. “Listen! When I fire you break back for the house. It’s only about ten yards. And you get in there and stay there!”

  She nodded.

  He aimed in a pause in the firing, and put a bullet through what remained of the sash. As he fired Letty jumped up and ran. McGraw looked up just in time to see her disappear behind the house. He tried a wild shot, but it was wide. Then he dropped down as Saulter fired again.

  “That bitch!” he swore. “Oh, that bitch! I’ll fix her if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Then there was a lull while both parties watched to see what the other would do. Saulter could see Billy laying on the porch up against the wall. He assumed he was dead. He lay there, his rifle at the ready, looking for movement. He’d almost been suckered and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  In the saloon, Schmidt was swearing steadily. The gunman was mumbling something. McGraw turned on him harshly. “What? What are you saying?”

  “I’m just counting,” the man answered sullenly. “Billy makes seven. Seven he’s kilt. You tell me what our chances are. I say we get out of here.”

  “Shut up,” McGraw told him viciously. “We go when I say.”

  “Listen, them horses is still out back. He’s afoot now. We could take them and get clean out of the country before he could even make a start after us.”

  “That man dies!” McGraw screamed at him. “I’ll kill him and that bitch if it’s the last thing I do! And you’ll help me.”

  The man said, “I don’t know about that, Mister McGraw. This job don’t look so good now. I’d say we’re out of business.”

  “Look here,” McGraw said, peering over the windowsill. He made his voice quieter. “I believe we’ve got him now. He is afoot. He can’t move around. We’ll come at him from two sides. His dead horse will only protect him from one side. We have to get him. That rifle of his is just a single shot.”

  “He don’t shoot it like it is.”

  “You take a horse and circle way behind him. I’ll come from this side. If we keep our range we’ve got to get him.”

  The gunman was pensive, thinking. “That might work,” he said.

  “It has to. You get way around behind him. I’ll come out the front door and charge him from this side. I think I can make it to the corner of the women’s house. At my signal you charge. When he gets on this side of his horse I’ll have a clear shot at him.”

  “Okay,” the man said, getting up. He looked at McGraw. “But you be damn sure you do your part. You leave me charging down on him and I’m done for.”

&n
bsp; “Don’t worry,” McGraw said. “We get this man and you can have the other boys’ payday.”

  “Don’t forget that,” the man said. He scuttled quickly across the floor and out the back door.

  Up on the knoll Saulter watched. Reaching in a pocket he located the stump of a cigar. He stuck it in his mouth, found a match, and lit up, all without taking his eyes off the front of the saloon, Through a wreath of blue smoke he saw the gunman riding out, circling backwards to stay out of range.

  He reached up and touched his horse’s mane. It had been a good horse, his buffalo horse. No sounds came, but his lips formed the word “bastards.”

  McGraw had gone to the open door. Through the swirling snow he hazarded quick peeks around the jamb, watching Saulter and watching the progress of the rider.

  Saulter too was watching the man, his head turning on a slow swivel. When the rider was finally behind, opposite the saloon, he stopped and waved his rifle over his head. Saulter glanced quickly toward the saloon. He could just see McGraw peeking out the door.

  McGraw stuck his head out, yelled, “Now!” and fired his rifle as a signal.

  The rider suddenly put spurs to his mount and, whooping and yelling, started the long charge down on the hunter. Saulter glanced quickly back toward the saloon, saw that McGraw was still inside, then deliberately came to one knee. He quickly fumbled two shells out of his satchel and put them in his mouth. He understood what they were going to try and do and it could get very tight, but he didn’t think McGraw was much of a shot and he knew the man on the horse was going to have to pull up and stop before he could get off very accurate fire.

  He glanced back and saw McGraw edging around the door. As he looked McGraw threw up his rifle and fired a couple of ineffective shots. He swiveled his head back to Jackhammer, still charging. The gunman was firing, but the shots were more for show than anything else. One whined into the snow near Saulter’s knee, but he paid it no mind. He watched the man, calculating the distance, his mind still on McGraw behind him.

  Jackhammer too was calculating the distance and beginning to realize he was getting awfully close with no support. He yelled, “McGraw! McGraw!”

  Almost as if it had been his cue, Saulter whirled at the words and threw up his rifle. He caught McGraw starting out the door. It was a snap shot, but it chipped splinters off the doorjamb and sent McGraw tumbling back inside. Now knowing he had to work rapidly, Saulter broke his rifle down, flipped out the spent hull, and rammed home a fresh cartridge. He snapped the rifle together and brought it to his shoulder. Jackhammer was only fifty yards away and suddenly aware of his danger. He sawed backwards on the reins, trying to bring his plunging horse to a stop in the loose snow. By the time he was able to turn the animal he was only thirty yards away. He rode away, spurring and quirting the floundering animal while Saulter took a leisurely sight in the middle of his back. The impact of the big shell at that range knocked the man completely over his horse’s head.

  Saulter quickly reloaded and turned to face the saloon. But he was too late. It was the moment McGraw had planned for. He had never really intended to back up Jackhammer, but to use the situation for a diversion that would allow him to break for the women’s house. He knew that once he had Letty, he had Saulter. And he wanted her almost as much as he wanted the big hunter. He was in a rage as he dashed across the open space. His men were dead, his big job was blown, and his quarter of a million dollars was gone. He ran low, sprinting hard.

  It took an instant for Saulter to pick up his flying figure.

  Then there was only time for a quick shot. He fired, but he knew it was futile even as the stock slammed back against his shoulder. McGraw disappeared behind the angle of the building.

  “Goddammit!” he said, getting to his feet. He grabbed up his satchel of shells and began running away from the women’s house, quartering up on the side of the saloon.

  McGraw made the porch in one jump. He didn’t bother with the door knob, but instead fired two shots into the latch and then kicked it open. He stood there for half a second grinning at the women and then kicked the door to behind him. “Now,” he said to Letty, “we’ll see about things. Won’t we, Miss Letty?” The women stood there in the half gloom of the room looking fearful. There was such rage on his face they didn’t know what he might do. But he said, “All in good time.”

  Then moving quickly, he raced across to a side window and hammered out the glass with his rifle butt. In a look he saw that Saulter was no longer behind his horse.

  “Goddammit!” he swore.

  But then he turned and looked at the women and smiled. “But I’ve got him just the same, haven’t I, Letty?” He looked at her. “He’s a gentleman, isn’t he, Letty? You ought to know about that. He won’t desert you here with me. Because he knows what I intend to do to you. And when he comes to your rescue, then I’ll have him.” He raised his rifle. “You’re all the bait I’ll need. The rest of you ladies get on the other side of the room and stay in a group. Stay clear of Miss Letty. She’s poison. She’s contagious. You don’t none of you want to catch what she’s going to get.”

  Saulter came cautiously around the back of the saloon. There were no windows in the back so he had to wait until he got to the door to look inside. At the opening he listened for a moment and then took off his hat and slid an eye just past the sill. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the darkness of the room, but he saw that the place was empty. He stepped quickly around the sill and went cautiously into the room, his rifle at the ready. Just inside he stopped. He saw William laying behind the end of the bar and the dead man in the middle of the room and the one by the wall. He took another step and heard something to his right. He whirled. It was Schmidt, rising from behind the bar, his hands over his head. “Don’t shoot!” he screamed. “For god’s sake, don’t shoot!”

  Saulter covered him with the rifle. “Get out,” he said.

  Schmidt looked uncomprehending. “Get out?”

  “Yes, I don’t want you at my back.”

  “But I ain’t with them.”

  “Get out,” Saulter repeated calmly. “Or I’ll blow a hole in you.”

  Schmidt understood. He scuttled out from behind the bar and out the door. Just as he exited Saulter stopped him. “Where’s that boy? That half-breed?

  Schmidt pointed out the door. “Maybe dead. That one”—he motioned toward the dead body of William—“shot him.”

  “All right. Get out.”

  Saulter went to the door and watched Schmidt trudge across the snow and disappear into the bunkhouse. Then he stepped out the door, glanced cautiously all around, and went over to the horses that were still tied at the back. With hand and eye he carefully examined each. Finally he selected one, moved it away from the others, and tied it. The snow was starting to fall again and the horses were stamping and moving around from the cold.

  A horse seen to, Saulter went back in the saloon. He stopped at the bar to pick up a bottle of whiskey, pulled the cork as he walked, and then knelt down by the window. He took a long pull of the whiskey, shuddered, and then looked cautiously toward the women’s house. All was quiet. He set the bottle down, shifted his rifle to a position on the window ledge, and settled down. He knew McGraw was in the women’s house; knew that he, Saulter, had control of all the horses; knew McGraw was not going to start anywhere on foot. He also knew that McGraw had Letty and that there was nothing to do but wait. The next move was up to McGraw.

  It was not long in coming. From behind a window at the front of the women’s house, McGraw called, “Saulter! Saulter!”

  Saulter raised his head cautiously, half sighting down his rifle barrel. Finally he yelled out, “Speak up! I hear you!”

  “Come out with your hands up! Now!” McGraw said.

  Saulter didn’t bother to answer.

  “You hear me?”

  Still Saulter was silent.

  “Listen to me, Saulter. I got your girlfriend in here. I got a gun at her head. Y
ou walk out in that road or I’ll blow her pretty face off.”

  Saulter yelled back, “McGraw, you got one chance. Let those women alone and ride out of here. You come out now and I won’t kill you.”

  “Saulter! I’m not kidding you. I’ll kill this woman if you don’t do as I say.”

  “You touch her and I’ll kill you twenty different ways.”

  “Your last chance, Saulter. I’ll give you one minute to think it over.”

  “Last time I thought something over it cost you every man you had. This time it’ll be your turn.”

  Inside the women’s house McGraw was standing with Letty at a front window. He had her by the hair, half bent over, his pistol at her head. He had kicked the glass out of the window, but there was still a curtain over it, so that Saulter couldn’t see them. But if he could he wouldn’t have been able to fire for fear of hitting Letty. “You want her to beg you, Saulter?” McGraw yelled. “You want to hear from her?” He prodded Letty with the gun and shook her by the hair. “Sing, my little pigeon. Beg Mister Saulter.”

  She gave him such a fierce struggle that he rapped her sharply on the side of the head with his pistol barrel. “Hold still, you bitch! Now tell Saulter to save your worthless neck!”

  She yelled, made half breathless from the way McGraw had her doubled over, “Saulter! Kill the bastard! Kill him!” She got no further because McGraw slapped her. Saulter heard her scream. In a strong voice he called, “McGraw, I got all the horses. You can’t get away unless I let you. It’s coming on dark. Walk out now and I give you my word I’ll let you go.” He sighted down the rifle barrel, trying to get a glimpse of McGraw, but the curtain made it impossible to see into the house.

  “I got all the cards, Saulter,” McGraw yelled. “I swear I’ll kill her!”

  Saulter glanced anxiously toward the sun. Its lower rim was just touching the horizon. Dark was near, but it was long moments away.

  Letty’s voice suddenly broke out. “Don’t do it, Saulter. He’ll kill me anyway. He’ll kill you and then kill me. Just kill—”