“Need help with that, Sheriff?” asked Jess. The sheriff turned around.
“Well it’s about time you came to visit me,” exclaimed Diggs. “Naw, I’ll get the blacksmith down here to fix it. Damn thing won’t stay locked and I sure can’t have that. What can I do for you?”
“I’m just checking one last time to see if you’ve heard anything new about the three men who killed my family,” replied Jess.
“Actually, you’re in luck,” exclaimed Sheriff Diggs. “I just got some information on one of them. Remember the one with the missing boot heel?”
“I remember every one of them, Sheriff,” he replied candidly.
“Well, Sheriff Manley, up in Tarkenton, about two hundred miles northwest of here, says someone fitting his description got into a shootout with the local hothead there and got himself wounded,” exclaimed Sheriff Diggs. “He killed the other man, but needed surgery to remove a bullet from his left thigh so he’s been recuperating in the town’s local cathouse for the last couple of weeks. I’ve got no information on the other two, but at least it’s a start.”
“Why doesn’t the sheriff arrest him and lock him up?”
Sheriff Diggs let out a sigh as he sat down behind his desk. “Jess, you need to understand that most lawmen are not tough men,” he explained. “Some of them can’t even handle a gun and quite frankly, most of the lawmen in small towns just do it for the money so they don’t starve. They can’t handle or won’t handle most hardened criminals.”
“Then they need to get new lawmen,” he countered.
“No one else will take the jobs in those small towns,” said Diggs shaking his head. “I ain’t saying it’s right, I’m only telling you how it really is, okay?” Jess just shook his head, not wanting to understand how things really were.
“Anyway,” the sheriff continued, “he’s the one called Randy Hastings. The only murder he’s known to have committed is your family, although I have to believe he’s guilty of more. The wanted poster says there’s a five hundred dollar bounty on his head, dead or alive. I thought about heading up there and seeing if I can bring him in.”
“No, don’t bother, Sheriff,” he replied sharply. “Leave him to me.”
Sheriff Diggs had a look of frustration on his face as he took on a fatherly tone. “Jess, don’t talk that way,” he said. “Hell, Jess, I know what you’ve been planning since that day I met you at your house when you were plowing the fields. I’ve watched you come into town and buy every round of ammunition Jim Smythe has ordered over the last two years. I know about your practice with your pa’s gun and I know what’s in that skull of yours. But it just ain’t a good idea to go off and hunt men down and kill ‘em. It’ll change your life forever. It’ll turn you into a cold-blooded killer and you’ll never be able to come back from that. Once you start, you can’t stop and then you’ll end up dead before it’s over. Trust me, I’ve seen it over and over again and I don’t want to see it happen to you.”
“Sheriff, I understand what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, I really do,” he said thoughtfully. “But you have to understand something. I died inside that day I sat on the porch of my pa’s house after finding my entire family murdered. That’s the day I changed, not today. I have only one mission left in life and it’s to hunt those bastards down and make them pay. I’ll kill every one of them along with anyone else who gets in my way. Look in these eyes, Sheriff. What do you see?” He walked closer to the sheriff. The sheriff looked into Jess’s eyes, which were black and cold, devoid of anything but death and vengeance. Diggs lowered his eyes to the paperwork on his desk, a sad look on his face, even though he understood.
“Okay, here is everything I have on Randy Hastings,” exclaimed Sheriff Diggs. “As soon as I get anything on the other two, I will get it to you. You just promise me you’re going to be careful. These men are cold and callous killers Jess,” replied the sheriff.
“Thanks, Sheriff,” he said, as he took the copy of the wanted poster of Randy Hastings. “You can be sure of one thing. Their killing days are coming to an end.” Jess said it with such a meaning in his voice that the sheriff truly believed it.
Jess headed over to the bank to see Mr. Jameson. He wanted to go over the account before he left town. He had sold everything that he figured he wouldn’t need and now had over nine hundred dollars in the bank. As always, Mr. Jameson was working at his desk. He was always glad to see Jess because he was usually bringing money to deposit.
“Howdy, Jess. Making a deposit again?” asked Mr. Jameson.
“Not today. Actually, I need to take some money out,” he replied.
“Well, how much do you need, Jess?”
“I’d like two hundred dollars.”
“Alright,” said Jameson, as he filled out a slip for him to take to the teller. Jess remained seated. “Anything else I can do for you today, Jess?”
“I was wondering how I can get money when I’m on the trail?” he asked.
Jameson explained about how he could wire for money if he needed any while away from town. Then Jess went to the general store and visited with Jim and Sara. He explained that he would be leaving town and he paid up his bill and purchased all the boxes of .45 cartridges Jim had in stock, as well as rounds for the rifle and more shotgun shells. He told Jim and Sara that he would stop by next week and see them one more time before he left and then he headed out of town and back to the ranch. Jim and Sara were standing on the front porch of the store watching Jess ride out. Sara looked up at Jim with tears in her eyes.
“Do you think we should tell him?” asked Sara.
“I don’t know, Sara. I’ve got to think about it. We can decide before he leaves town next week.”
“He deserves to know, Jim,” she pleaded. “We should tell him before he finds out for himself.”
“We’ll see, Sara, we’ll see,” he replied.
Jess went back to the ranch and spent his last week there. That last week at the ranch was a week full of memories. He spent a lot of time sitting at the gravesites remembering all the good times. Jess knew that someday he would come back, but not for a while. He knew he was in for a long and hard journey. On the last day, he made his last breakfast in the cabin, saddled up and headed for town to say his last goodbyes. Before he climbed in the saddle he strapped his new gun on, put his pa’s rifle in the scabbard and put the shotgun into the special back holster he had made from his pa’s scraps of leather. He stuck his pa’s Colt .45 Peacemaker in the front of his holster belt. He checked his knife and it was sharp and in its place strapped to the back of his gun belt. He was ready. He was ready for anything or anybody. Yet, he had something more. Something most men didn’t have. He had rage—and he had reason. Jess looked over the ranch once more before he started down the ranch road toward the main road leading into Black Creek.
Something happened to him when he rode down the ranch road. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. His life instantly changed forever at that moment. He felt like he had crossed an imaginary line of some sort. There was no feeling inside him one way or another. There was nothing he was afraid of and nothing that could stand in his way. God help the men he hunted or anyone who got in his way. They were destined for death, and he was destined to do the killing. It felt right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On his way into Black Creek, Jess stopped along the way at his old favorite stop by the big boulder at the bend in the creek. Not for himself though, just for his horse to drink. While Gray drank, Jess remembered the confrontation with the three men on that fateful day. He could picture the three men as if they were right there in front of him right now. Gray finished drinking and Jess continued toward town. As soon as he rode around the last bend toward the main street of town, he noticed the town was busier than usual. There were people gathering together and talking to one another. He noticed one man who ran across the street to the saloon. He put himself on high alert. He pulled up in the front of Jim and Sara’s general store.
He dismounted and was tying up Gray when Jim walked out of the store.
“Jess, I have some bad news for you…” he stopped in mid-sentence…“What the hell…?” he said, surprised to see Jess with a gun and holster strapped to his waist, another pistol tucked in the front of the holster, and a shotgun handle sticking up behind his back. Jim stared at him for a few seconds before he spoke again.
“Jess; are you okay?” he asked in a concerned tone.
“Yes sir; I’m just fine.”
Jim was looking Jess over and he finally got a good look at the gun strapped around Jess’s waist. It was like no other pistol and holster he’d ever seen before. “Jess, where the hell did you get that holster? And what kind of gun is that?” asked Jim.
“I found it in the bottom of my pa’s lock box,” he replied, not wanting to explain how he had really found the gun.
“That doesn’t look like any pistol I’ve ever seen before, and I’ve never seen a holster quite like that either,” submitted Jim, still looking at the pistol and holster Jess was wearing.
“Jim, you said you had some bad news? What news?” he asked, trying to get Jim to tell him what was going on. Jim hesitated, still not sure what to make of Jess.
“Oh, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the sheriff was shot dead not more than a half-hour ago,” replied Jim, still staring at the pistol and holster Jess was wearing. If Jess was surprised, he didn’t show it, but Jim could see a coldness washing across Jess’s face and a darkness looming in the back of his eyes.
“Who did it?” he demanded in a harsh tone.
“That no good son-of-a-bitch Red Carter. He came into town and got drunk again at Andy’s Saloon and he was trying to pick a fight with some drifter. The sheriff went into the saloon and warned Red he was going to put him in jail again. Red told the sheriff he wasn’t going to let him crack him on the head again with that shotgun. The sheriff gave him his last warning and Red just skinned leather and shot him. Then he went back to drinking at the bar again like nothing happened. That cold-blooded bastard is still over there drinking.”
“And the drifter?”
“Folks say he high tailed it out of there before the shootout. Sara went over to Doc Johnson’s place to see if she could help, but the sheriff was dead before they got him there. Shot right through the heart. I swear it seems like it’s always the good ones who go down.” Jim replied sadly.
“Not today,” said Jess coldly as he turned around and headed for the Doctor’s office to see for himself. As he walked away, and without looking back at Jim he said, “Jim, let me know if Red tries to leave town while I go over to the Doc’s.”
“Well, okay. I guess so,” replied Jim, a little worried about the different way Jess was acting.
Jess walked down to the Doctor’s office. Doc Johnson was a fair doctor, but not a great one. When Jess walked in, he saw the sheriff lying still on the table. There was blood all over him and his shirt was torn open. The Doc was standing over him with a grim look on his face and Sara was sitting in a chair in the corner of the small room with her head in her hands sobbing. Doc Johnson looked up at Jess.
“He never had a chance,” he said gravely.
Jess nodded at the Doc, but said nothing. The Doc pulled a sheet up over the sheriff. Sara had slowed with her sobbing only because she noticed that Jess had come in. She looked up at Jess with tears streaming from her red eyes, but before she could say anything she noticed what Jess was wearing. She was speechless for a moment and she just kept looking back and forth between him and the gun strapped around his waist.
“Jess, what…why are you wearing that?” she said as she nodded to the gun, “and where did you get such a thing?”
“That’s not important,” replied Jess. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean.”
“Alright then, you stay in here with the Doc, okay?”
“Okay; but why?” she asked. “The Doctor doesn’t need my help now.”
“Just do as I say please.” he insisted. She nodded and started sobbing again. Doc Johnson said nothing else. He kept staring at Jess, startled at the change in the young man that, up until now, he had always thought of as a young kid.
Jess walked out and headed across the street straight for Andy’s Saloon. He wasn’t really thinking about what he was going to do. He just knew he had to deal with Red Carter. This town had been good to him and his family. They were there when he needed them and they were terrified of Red Carter. They would be even more terrified now, since there was no law in town and no one was going to step up to replace the sheriff now after what Red had done. He stopped in the middle of the street. He looked up and down the main road. He glanced over to the general store and saw Jim standing just outside the door, watching. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Sara looking out of the Doc’s office window. He looked down to the sheriff’s office and then looked back to the saloon. He realized once he walked in there, his life would take another turn and there was no coming back from it. He was ready.
He walked through the swinging doors of the saloon. As soon as he stepped inside the saloon, he stopped to look around. There were four men at a poker table, but they weren’t really playing cards anymore. They were just going through the motions, terrified that Red Carter would start in on them next. The barkeep was standing behind the bar cleaning up just so he’d have something to do. Red Carter was standing at the bar with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. He looked up at Jess.
“Why, little Jess Williams,” Red said sarcastically, “What the hell are you doing in a saloon? And what the hell is all that you’ve got on you? Are you wearing a six-shooter now?” Jess didn’t reply, he simply glared at Red.
“What the hell you got behind you,” continued Red. “Is that a shotgun? Are you going rabbit hunting or something? Speak up, boy, I’m talking to you!”
Jess looked him straight in the eyes with no discernable emotion. “You shouldn’t have killed the sheriff, Red. He was my friend and a good man. He didn’t deserve to be shot down like that.”
“The hell he didn’t,” he retorted. “He was gonna crack me on the head with that damn shotgun again.”
“You still shouldn’t have killed him.”
“What the hell is it to you, boy?” he asked sarcastically. “You gonna do something about it? Oh, you ain’t really going rabbit hunting are you? You mean to tell me that you came in here to square off with me for killing a two-bit sheriff? You gotta be kidding me, boy. You ain’t got the gonads to face me or any other man for that matter.”
The barkeep, William, who hadn’t said anything up to now, finally got up enough courage to speak. “Jess, do us all a favor and go on home,” implored William. “We’ve had enough killing here today. Red, you leave the boy alone.”
“You shut the hell up, barkeep, or there’ll be some more killing real soon, starting with you!” hollered Red. The barkeep quickly went back to minding his business.
Jess moved over to the left of the saloon. He knew that Sara was still looking out of the window across the street, and he didn’t want to chance a stray bullet hitting her. He moved toward a corner where no one could get behind him. He never took his eyes off Red. Red finally realized Jess was serious. Red moved himself away from the bar a little and straightened up his stance and dropped his hand a little closer to the butt of his pistol.
“Boy, why don’t you go home now before you get hurt,” warned Red. “I ain’t ever shot a boy, but if you plan on pulling for that gun you’ve got, I’ll kill you for sure. Don’t you ever doubt it, not even for one second.”
“You’re killing days are over,” replied Jess with a coldness in his voice. The cheeks on Red’s face quivered. His ears turned a cherry red and he was about all out of what little patience he had.
“Why you cocky little bastard!” hollered Red. “You think you can come in here and threaten me? I ain’t scared of no man, much less a wet behind the ears little shit he
ad punk like you. You’ve got about five seconds to clear out of here before you catch a case of lead poisoning from this lead pusher on got on my right hip!”
“Then I guess you’ve got about five seconds to live; so I gotta ask, what’re you planning on doing with the time you have left?” he asked, his eyes locking firmly on Red’s.
“I guess I’m gonna kill me a punk ass kid,” he retorted angrily.
Red moved his hand a little closer to the butt of his pistol. Jess had already placed his hands into position without Red even knowing it. Jess could see in Red’s eyes that he was going to draw. Jess never moved. He waited until Red went for his pistol and Jess still never moved. Red finally got his hand on the butt of his pistol and pulled. Red’s gun barrel just cleared the top of his holster and then the gun fell backward and Red’s hand was no longer holding it. Instead, his hand was clutching his chest where the bullet from Jess’s pistol had burned through his heart exploding it instantly. Red slumped to his knees. He looked at Jess with a look of utter surprise. An instant later, he was lying face down in a pool of blood not more than ten feet from the drying pool of blood that had been left from Sheriff Diggs’s body. Jess watched Red’s death with no emotion. After Red fell to the floor, Jess put his gun back in his holster in one quick smooth movement.
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed the barkeep. “I ain’t ever seen anyone draw like that before. If I hadn’t seen if for myself, I would have thought you drew on him before he had a chance. Jess, you’re lucky you got a witness or else they’d say it wasn’t a fair fight.”
Jess said nothing. He just looked at Red Carter’s dead body lying face down on the floor. Jess walked over to Red’s body and using his left boot, he rolled him over. He unbelted his holster and reached down and picked up Red’s gun and stuck it back in the holster. He checked Red’s pockets and found about fifty dollars and he placed ten dollars of it on the bar.
The RECKONING: A Jess Williams Western Page 6