by Jack Sheriff
Seconds, Wilde thought. I’ve got a few seconds at most to save a man’s life.
He was thinking those thoughts, wondering how he was going to break away from Gomez without getting his throat cut, when all of Ibañez’s plans blew up in his face.
‘Let him go,’ a voice roared.
Lucas.
Wilde twisted his head against Gomez’s hand, saw Lucas several yards away down the alley with his six-gun levelled at the Mexicans.
As Gomez cursed foully in his ear and Ibañez swung around, his face contorted, Lucas pointed his six-gun at the night skies and fired three spaced shots.
‘I said let him go.’
Gomez flung Wilde away from him. Out in the moonlit square, someone was shouting. Running footsteps could be heard. Gomez flashed a glance at Lucas. Then turned and ran clumsily for the mouth of the alley. He was drawing his six-gun. His intentions were clear.
‘No, don’t kill him,’ Ibañez cried, and he grabbed Gomez, flung restraining arms around his body. ‘Allman has no six-gun. For the Texan to be blamed, Díaz must die by the rifle.’
Then he stepped out into the moonlight. He stared up at the church tower. Like a priest about to bestow his blessing on an unseen crowd, he stretched up both arms and turned his palms to the night skies
‘Allman,’ he roared, ‘earn your damn money, get on with—’
A six-gun cracked. His shrill, desperate cry was cut off. Ibañez stepped backwards. Then he slumped against the adobe wall and slid down to a sitting position. He sat in the shadow, dying slowly and with dignity; taking the knowledge that he had failed with him to the grave.
Lucas had reached Wilde.
‘You OK, Pa?’ He was looking at the blood on his father’s neck, his eyes concerned.
‘I’m OK,’ Wilde said, shouting to make himself heard above the wild crack of six-guns and the roars of anger and pain. ‘It’s that lot out there who’re in trouble.’
The Mexicans had forgotten Wilde, forgotten Lucas. Díaz’s bodyguards had broken cover when Lucas’s shots rang out. One of them had shot Ibañez when he stepped out of the alley. Others had shepherded Díaz away to a place of safety. Now all the Mexicans from both opposing factions were engaged in a bloody gun battle. Flashes lit up the night skies, bounced like summer lightning off the white adobe dwellings. Gunsmoke drifted in the moonlight. Bodies fell. The dust was stained with blood.
‘If that’s Allman up there,’ Lucas said, ‘what the hell’s he doing hanging around?’
He was looking up at the church tower, and the dark opening where a rifle barrel glittered.
Wilde was wiping his bloody throat with his bandanna.
He said, ‘You know, son, I think he went a long time ago. I think he went up there and placed his rifle where the moonlight would touch the barrel so everyone could see it – and then he turned around and got the hell out of there. You ask me, that man’s many miles away and still riding hell for leather.’
‘Took the money, and ran,’ Lucas said, marvelling.
‘Both lots, the banks’ and the Mexicans’,’ Wilde said, as the firing began to die down and they turned away from the square. ‘In the end, Gus Allman turned out to be way smarter than the whole damn lot of us.’
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Porfirio Díaz was a mestizo, born in Oaxaca, Mexico, of humble origin. He trained for the priesthood, but joined the army at the start of the war with the United States (1846–48). He served in the War of The Reform (1857–60), and the struggle against the French in 1861–67 when Maximilian became emperor.
After leaving the army, Díaz became dissatisfied with the administration of the president, Benito Juárez, and led a protest that was unsuccessful. When Juárez died, Díaz led an unsuccessful revolt against his successor, Sebastían Lerdo de Tejada.
That was in the spring of 1876. He then fled to the United States.
We know that Porfirio Díaz was in the United States. We do not know if he was in Texas, or in El Paso, and the events of this book are pure fiction.
However, we do know that Díaz returned to Mexico, and in November 1876 he defeated government forces at the Battle of Tecoac.
Porfirio Díaz was formally elected president of Mexico in May 1877.
By the Same Author
Brazos Guns
Midnight Hawk
Bury Him Deep, in Tombstone
The Man From the Staked Plains
Incident at Powder River
Black Day at Hangdog
Kid Kantrell
Starlight
Billy Sundown
The Killing at Circle C
The Last Water-hole
Copyright
© John Sheriff 2008
First published in Great Britain 2008
This edition 2011
ISBN 978 0 7090 9601 6 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9602 3 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9603 0 (pdf)
ISBN 978 07090 8651 2 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of John Sheriff to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988