One of the two men stood up. “Then come freely and speak.” He was a portly fellow in a brown checkered suit and bowler hat, with a puffy face above his collar. He looked up at Cane and then beamed. Cane knew this fellow. “And you are doubly welcome, Mr. Cane! And I shall happily furnish you with introductions!” It was Barnaby Bennet, a dime novelist who had once tried to write a book about him. “Please allow me to introduce Hellfire’s excellent keeper of the peace, Sheriff Mortimer Braddock.”
“Howdy.” Braddock was an elderly man. His thick moustache and carefully combed hair were completely snow white. He was lean and his skin seemed free of wrinkles, like it was stretched too tightly over his bones. He came to his feet, his dark pinstriped coat flapping open to reveal the revolver at his belt. “You’re Clayton Cane, you say? Bennet’s talked about you.” He straightened his pale tie.
“That a fact?” Cane swung down from his horse and glared at Barnaby Bennet. “What exactly is he doing out here? I thought he made a living out of writing nonsense for the dime novels.” The others rode up to join Cane and began to dismount. “He was gonna try doing one of them autobiographies, as I recall.”
Bennet smiled weakly. “Well, I decided I needed more material, before I began.” He rested a hand on his flabby chest. “Now I am the editor, publisher, and star reporter of the Hellfire Hellion. I can give you a copy of the latest issue, if you’d like.” He looked over Tarantula, Emma and the Coyles as they walked over, Orestes helping Maxwell down from the wagon. “But I think you might have your own news to relate.”
“What news would that be?” Sheriff Braddock didn’t take his eyes off of Cane’s scarred face. “Wouldn’t be trouble, I hope. We don’t have many cares or worries here in Hellfire. It’s a quiet town and I aim to keep it that way.” His broad brimmed hat had the edges rolled up, and he tilted it so that Cane could look him straight in the face. He had cold eyes and a hawk’s pointed nose.
“Then I’m afraid I’m gonna disappoint you.” Cane’s reply was calm. He wasn’t afraid of Sheriff Braddock – but he knew the sheriff wasn’t a weakling either. You only had to stare into those cold eyes to know that. “See, someone else found out about Silver Mesa and he wants it for himself. He’s coming to take it and he’ll destroy whatever’s in his way – including this town.”
Sheriff Braddock didn’t change his expression. “A rather incredible claim.”
“And I’m afraid it’s absolutely true.” Emma stepped closer to the sheriff and made a quick curtsy. “My name is Emma Finch and this is Orestes Coyle and his nephew, dear Maxwell. I don’t precisely know the Christian name of the other fellow, but he goes by Tarantula.”
“Howdy!” Tarantula waved his hand.
“And we have traveled here to warn you about the arrival of Dr. Adolphus Angell, a depraved scientist who will stop at nothing to capture Silver Mesa.” Emma shivered a little as he spoke. “I am from Santiago, over in the New Mexico Territory. Dr. Angell burned it to the ground. He has an airship in his possession, which allows him to travel great distances. And an army of his own creation, of absolutely loyal patchwork soldiers.”
Maxwell’s voice piped up. “But they’re not at all like Mr. Cane!”
“Is that so?” Sheriff Braddock looked at Cane with new eyes. “Bennet mentioned the circumstances of your creation. I’ve heard the legend of El Mosaico, but I never really believed it. But looking at you now, I think I can see the truth to those tales.” He nodded to Emma and the others. “Well, my thanks for the warning, Miss Finch. You can come into my office if you want. There’s coffee on the stove. Just tie your horses up here and I’ll see they’re properly stabled and provisioned for a little later.” He kept his eye on Cane. “But we need to talk.”
“Thank you, sir.” Orestes bowed low. “And may I add that I sell a certain curative potion that may brighten your pale facial hair.” He was already reaching into his coat when he noticed that Braddock wasn’t listening. “Um, well, perhaps another time.”
Bennet came to his feet and smiled at Emma. “I’ll help you with the coffee, Miss Finch,” he said. “And perhaps give Sheriff Braddock and Mr. Cane time to talk.” He looked down at Maxwell and his grin widened. “Do you by chance like popular literature, young man? I write them, you know. Billy the Kid against the Invaders from Mars is my most famous work. Have you heard it?”
“You wrote Billy the Kid against the Invaders from Mars?” Maxwell stared in utter awe at Bennet. “That’s one of my favorites, sir! I’ve got my copy in the wagon and I’ve read it at least three times.” He followed Bennet in, eager to discuss the boo and Emma, Orestes and Tarantula followed. Tarantula gave a quick nod to Cane.
Then Cane and Sheriff Braddock were alone. Braddock produced a pipe from his coat and prepared it with tobacco. “Nice people,” he said. “Good sorts all.” He glanced up at Cane. “What are they doing riding with you?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question.” Cane watched as Braddock lit his pipe. “I’ve helped them all before. Saved their lives in various ways. Did the same for your newspaperman, Bennet. Though he’s such a bothersome bastard that sometimes I regret it.”
“Don’t run him down, Cane,” Sheriff Braddock said gruffly. “Barnaby Bennet’s worth ten times as much as men like you and me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, a little too talkative though he may be, he’s innocent. And we are killers.” Sheriff Braddock puffed out a cloud of smoke. “Now, you say this Dr. Angell fellow, your creator, is coming here in some kind of flying contraption.” Braddock jabbed the pipe between his jaws and sucked in more smoke. “And he’s bringing an army with him – an army of men like you. I believe your friends, Cane. They’re not the kind to lie. But I’m not sure I trust you.”
“You’ll have to,” Cane said.
“Yeah.” Sheriff Braddock nodded slowly. “And I think I will.”
Emma, the Coyles, Bennet and Tarantula came out of the sheriff’s office. Orestes, Emma and Tarantula all held steaming mugs of coffee. Tarantula carried two and gave one to Cane. “Did you come to a decision?” he asked. “Some kind of plan?”
“We did,” Sheriff Braddock agreed. “Barnaby, you’d best go and spread the word. Town meeting, down in the Imperial Hotel. And tell everyone to bring their shooting irons. They’ll need them.” Braddock set down his pipe on the table. “We’ll go there and wait for you.”
“Of course.” Bennet’s head bobbed rapidly. He patted Maxwell’s shoulder. “Our discussion of my proposed sequel dealing with Jesse James and Venus will have to wait, young man. I eagerly look forward to it, though.” He tipped his hat to Emma. “Miss Finch, Mr. Coyle. Mr. Tarantula.” Then Bennet turned and hurried off.
“So what happens now, amigo?” Tarantula asked.
“We’ll talk,” Cane explained. “And hope to hell we can come up with some plan to save Hellfire.”
In an hour’s time, the town meeting began. Cane joined his friends and Sheriff Braddock in the Imperial Hotel, the biggest building in Hellfire. It was a three-story structure, featuring a cavernous lobby with a red velvet carpet. Cane joined Sheriff Braddock near the front desk and watched as Hellfire’s citizens poured in, bringing along their guns. It wasn’t much of an armory – fowling pieces, muzzle loaders from the war and old hunting rifles, along with the occasional revolver more suited to personal defense or duel than fighting a war. Sheriff Braddock had something the size of a large chair brought from his office, covered in a white cloth. He kept it near the desk and waited for the hotel lobby to fill.
Soon enough, Braddock cleared his throat and came to his feet. “Good morning,” he said. “Now, I figure you all know who I am. I got some other folks to introduce.” He gestured to Cane’s friend. “Miss Finch is a schoolteacher, over in Santiago. Orestes Coyle and his boy sell medicine and Tarantula there is a…”
“A gentleman of fortune,” Tarantula suggested.
“Yes. And the fellow with the scarred face is Clayton Cane
– El Mosaico. I suppose you know who he is too.” Braddock put his hands in the pockets of his coat as he talked. “Now, they come in with a warning. Seems that this fellow named Dr. Adolphus Angell is coming here with his own private army, to try and conquer Silver Mesa. We all know that Silver Mesa’s stones ain’t earthly. Some of us have firsthand experience with that.”
A stout prospector with a scraggly beard raised his hand. “My dog done licked one of them stones – grew himself a set of wings the very next day!”
Sheriff Braddock continued. “Well, this Angell character’s coming here to steal those stones and use it to give power to his army. And Hellfire’s right in the way. He ain’t getting to Silver Mesa without going through Hellfire. And from what I know of him, he’s liable to try and wipe us out, just to prove he can.” Braddock’s voice softened. “We could run, but there’s a lot of desert between Hellfire and the next town and we might not all make it. Besides, we’re Texans. We ain’t the sort to run.”
The crowd didn’t disagree. They listened calmly, not one of them protesting Sheriff Braddock’s decision. Cane believed that they knew the dangers of living close to Silver Mesa and accepted them. They were brave and he understood why Sheriff Braddock cared for them.
Orestes raised his hand. “Now, Dr. Angell does have a substantial force with him – an airship, an army of freakish patchwork monstrosities – no offense, Mr. Cane – and even cavalry, if Miss Finch is to be believed. How exactly will we fight them?”
“However we can.” Sheriff Braddock began giving orders. “Tarantula, you said you had some men outside the town that would help. Now’s the time to bring them in. The rest of you can start with putting a barricade across Main Street and digging a trench behind that. Use wagons, crates, whatever we got. We’ll set up firing posts in the saloons and inns, to give them some volleys once they get through the barricade. Women and kids can go in the new schoolhouse at the back of town. It’s the safest building here.”
“A schoolhouse?” Emma asked. “Do you have a teacher?”
“We were about to send for one.” A smile crossed Sheriff Braddock’s weathered face. “But you’re welcome to have the job. You can start by seeing to the little ones’ safety right now. Maybe the Coyle boy can help.” Sheriff Braddock walked over to the white sheet near the front desk. “And once Angell’s army gets further in the town, I can wheel this out of my office.” He pulled aside the sheet, revealing a fully assembled Gatling gun. He patted the dark firing tubes. “Bought it for a song from a drunken army colonel. Never figured I’d get a chance to use it.”
“But will it be enough, sheriff?” Barnaby Bennet had been writing everything down in his notepad. Now he raised his pen. “Will all of these efforts succeed against a group of men created for the sole purpose of waging war?”
Cane stood up. “There’s the Apache,” he said, and everyone fell quiet. “Pablo Rojo knows me. He’s a good man and the Apache know what it’s like when a bunch of invaders show up to their land with the goal of destroying everything. And Pablo owes me a favor.” He could see from the looks of Hellfire’s townspeople that they weren’t quite agreeing with him. “We could ask them for help.”
“From a bunch of heathen savages?” a Hellfire matron in a dark black gown shook her head. “Why, they’re almost as bloodthirsty as you are, El Mosaico!”
Sheriff Braddock patted Cane’s shoulder. “We’ll consider it,” he said. “But for now, let’s get to work fortifying our town.” He raised his voice. “There’re rifles and more ammunition in my office. As of now, y’all are deputies. As of now, we’re Hellfire’s only hope!” He smiled as the crowd began to applaud and then whispered to himself, just loud enough for Cane to hear. “I only hope it’s enough.”
That was Cane’s hope too. He was starting to like Hellfire. They townsfolk seemed resilient and tough and their sheriff was capable and intelligent, making him unlike most of the lawmen Cane knew. Cane knew he’d fight alongside them – not just to stop Dr. Angell – but to protect Hellfire.
After the meeting, they immediately began preparing for the attack. Everyone pitched in, carrying wagons, barrels and crates to the front of Main Street and digging firing trenches, while riflemen went up to the roofs along with plenty of ammo. Emma and Maxwell led Hellfire’s women and children to the schoolhouse, while Orestes prepared what real medical supplies he possessed and set up a makeshift infirmary in the town bank. Tarantula and his banditos rode back into town and joined in.
As the fortifying went on, Cane found himself helping Sheriff Braddock dig a ditch a ways behind the barricade. They strained with their shovels, hauling clumps of dirt and mud. Cane looked at Braddock and found the sheriff leaning on his shovel, breathing heavily and sagging like a tent with a broken pole. Cane set down his own shovel.
“You all right, Braddock?” he asked.
“A mite winded is all.” Sheriff Braddock sighed. “I’m getting older. My bones have realized it, even if I haven’t.” He reached down and touched the gold star on his breast. “And I don’t know how much longer I can wear the badge, even if the reasons I took it up are still as strong as ever.” Braddock glanced up at Cane. “Every man’s got his reasons. What’re yours?”
“Money.” Cane shrugged. “For whiskey and ammo. Nothing much more.”
“I don’t think that’s it.” Sheriff Braddock tightened his grip on the shovel. He stabbed it back into the dirt. “No, your reasons are what’s inside of you. You said Dr. Angell made you to be a killer – and that’s what you are. Even if you don’t work for him, you still live to take lives when you work as a bounty hunter. But you don’t have to.”
Cane snorted. “You’re an expert on this, I take it?”
“I should be an expert on killing. I rode with John Joel Glanton’s scalp-hunters in Mexico.” Sheriff Braddock sighed as he lifted another shovelful of dirt. “You should’ve seen the work we did – the work I witnessed. We fought Indians and scalped them. We slaughtered Mexicans and sold their scalps as Indian. We slaughtered near about everyone we encountered. And after a while, I could take it no more. I fled. I lived as a drunk for a time, and then I realized that the whiskey weren’t changing what I was – just dulling it.”
“So you became a sheriff?”
“Deputy first. Worked my way up.” Braddock grunted as heaved aside the dirt. “The killer’s instincts are with me. Glanton and his scalp-hunters put them there. I fight them sometimes. But mostly, I put them to something that matters.” He smiled at Cane. “And I think you can too.”
“Nobody would want a scarred-up old cuss like me as a sheriff.”
Braddock laughed. “What about them folks following you around? A schoolteacher, a snake oil salesman and his little boy and a Mexican bandit — quite a cross-section of humanity, I believe. And they all think you’re a good man, the youngster and the schoolmarm especially. I don’t see any reason why you should disappoint them.”
Before Cane could respond, Bennet came pounding down the main street, his cheeks beet red. He hurried to the ditch and tried to catch his breath. “He’s here, Sheriff Braddock!” He breathed the words out, instead of speaking them. “Dr. Angell! He’s here and he wants to talk!”
“To talk?” Cane asked.
“He’s brought a white flag.” Bennet pointed down the street. “Our lookout spotted him and told me. He wants to talk with Cane.”
“I’m going with him.” Sheriff Braddock tossed down his shovel and reached for his coat. “You can come along, Bennet. Might as well record our words for posterity.” Braddock glanced over at Cane as he stepped gingerly out of the ditch. “Come on then,” he said. “Let’s go see this fellow who made you.”
They walked to the edge of town, Sheriff Braddock pausing to grab a rifle. Cane had his own revolvers and cavalry saber, as well as his repeating rifle slung over his back. They marched under the beating rays of Texan sun, past the other Hellfire townsfolk who were hard at work with the fortifications until they reached
the edge of the city. Sure enough, Dr. Angell was there, along with Uriel and a trio of other patchwork men. Uriel limply held a white rag on a stick in one of his massive fists.
Dr. Angell saw them coming. He folded his hands and smiled beneficently. “Clayton!” he called. “It’s good to see you again, after your previous, rapid departure from the Archangel.” He gestured vaguely behind him and Cane looked up to see the airship, hanging like an oddly shaped cloud in the cloudless blue sky. “And you must be the sheriff of Hellfire. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance. What are you called?”
“Braddock,” the sheriff replied shortly.
“Ah. A solid name. The name of an intelligent man, no doubt, who will understand the proposition I am making.” Dr. Angell pointed to Hellfire. “You have a charming little city. I’d like nothing more than to see it burned to the ground and its citizens slaughtered in gruesome ways, but I’ll hold back my desires in the interests of compromise. Here’s the deal – run away and let my army reach Silver Mesa and I’ll allow you to flee.”
“You came here to make threats, Angell?” Cane asked, his voice a dark grumble.
Dr. Angell looked at Cane’s scarred face. “I came here to bargain – and not with you. Sheriff Braddock, leaving Hellfire is just one term you must agree to. The other is to hand over Clayton Cane, to me.” He glared straight at Cane. “Right now, Clayton doesn’t recognize his own potential. But I’m sure his mind is malleable. He can be changed and my victorious army must have its general. Isn’t that right, Uriel?”
Uriel released his usual grunt of agreement.
“Cane’s independence makes him the only candidate suitable to lead my army – even if that independence is also his weakness.” Angell rubbed his hands together. “But I’m a skilled surgeon, regarding matters of the brain. A few stabs with a scalpel here, a few snips with a pair of scissors there, and I’m confident that I can make Clayton Cane a loyal soldier in my army.” Dr. Angell turned back to Sheriff Braddock. “That’s my proposition, Braddock – and I won’t stand for negotiation. Will you take it?”
The Road to Hellfire Page 17