Hellraiser!

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Hellraiser! Page 9

by Sam Clancy


  ‘Are we just going to ride in there and bust him out, Jim?’ an ugly, scar-faced man named Barrett asked.

  ‘That’s the plan. There’s only one lawdog in the place. Should be easy enough.’

  ‘How about we rob the bank while we’re there?’ asked a thin-faced outlaw.

  Manson considered it and then nodded. ‘All right. Three of you get Brick out and the rest of us will do just that.’

  ‘Let’s go then,’ Barrett said enthusiastically.

  ‘No, wait until morning when the bank is open. Let’s get off the road and find a place to camp. No fire, we don’t want anyone knowing we’re here.’

  Chapter 14

  Seven men. Seven strangers. Seven of them. They rode into Chester and drew attention straightaway. Why wouldn’t they? They were all rough-looking and had an aura of meanness about them.

  Manson rode at the head of them, followed by Barrett. And then came Burke, Wills, Trantor, Coyle and Ingram. With a single hand motion, Barrett, Burke and Trantor split off and rode towards the jail. The rest made for the bank.

  On the boardwalk outside the jail, Lem saw them coming. He knew they were trouble, long before they divided their forces.

  His mind whirred and he wished he had a deputy to back his play. But alas, the town council had not deemed it necessary to give him one, even though the town was growing steadily.

  Lem muttered a curse under his breath and retreated inside.

  ‘Of all the damned days,’ he growled as he walked across the room to the gun rack on the wall. ‘As if I don’t have enough troubles.’

  Ford came off the bunk in the cell. ‘What’s up, Lem?’

  ‘Strangers in town,’ he said as he checked over the Winchester he’d taken down. ‘Seven of them. Three are coming this way and the rest are out front of the bank. My guess is that they’re Carlisle’s bunch.’

  ‘I told you,’ he guffawed.

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘Let me out, Lem. I can help you,’ Ford urged him.

  ‘I can’t do that, you’re my prisoner.’

  Ford cursed under his breath. ‘Damn it, Lem, you don’t stand a chance on your own. Let me out. Think of Mary.’

  Mary was Lem’s pregnant wife.

  He knew Ford was right, and every fibre of his being told him that it wasn’t a good idea, but: ‘You promise you won’t try to run?’

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘All right,’ the sheriff said and scooped the keys from his desk.

  ‘Looks like you’re both gonna die before this is over,’ Carlisle stated.

  Keys rattled in the lock and the door swung open. Ford stepped through and Lem said, ‘Your gun is in the cupboard against the wall.’

  Ford found the Peacemaker and strapped it on. He checked the loads and rammed it back into the holster.

  ‘How do you want to play this, Lem?’ he asked.

  ‘I was hoping you’d tell me.’

  ‘It’s your town.’

  ‘How about we just go out there and take them head on?’

  ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  Laramie was looking out the window of his hotel room when he saw them ride in. Like Lem, he knew they were trouble. When he saw them split up, he walked across to his bed and unhooked the double gun belt from over the post. He strapped it on and headed for the door.

  Out in the hall, he saw a young lady walking towards the stairs. He called after her, ‘Are you going out, miss?’

  She halted and gave him a questioning look. ‘Why, yes, I am.’

  ‘I’d leave that thought for a moment. Things are apt to get a little wild downstairs shortly.’

  ‘Rain?’ she asked.

  Laramie shook his head. ‘Shooting.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said and then realization settled in: ‘Oohhh!’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, that’s about right.’

  The gunfighter took the stairs two at a time until he hit the floor in the foyer. He walked to the front doors and out on to the boardwalk.

  He stared in the direction the men had gone. Three were at the jail and the other four were hauling rein outside the bank. This was not good.

  Laramie thought for a moment and then nodded. He drew both Peacemakers and stepped out on to the street. He was just in time to see Ford and Lem come out of the jail, guns blazing.

  Ford was first through the door, his Colt level with his waist. The three outlaws froze when they saw him.

  The six-gun roared, and Barrett grunted as the slug hit him in the middle. A puff of dust from his clothing was the tell-tale sign of the bullet strike. Ford thumbed back the hammer and shot him again. This time the lead burned deep into his chest and Barrett lurched into the man behind him.

  Trantor tried to push the mortally wounded man away from him and bring his six-gun into play against the threat.

  Beside Ford, Lem fired his own six-gun, a .45 calibre Schofield. The bullet struck Burke in the chest and the outlaw cried out. Still erect, he was able to get off a couple of shots. One burned through the air close to the sheriff and hammered into the jailhouse wall behind him. The second tore through the fabric and flesh of the lawman’s gun arm.

  Lem’s hand went numb and his fingers opened, dropping the Schofield to the boardwalk. ‘I’m hit!’ he exclaimed.

  Ford cursed and fired two shots at Tranter as he cleared himself of Barrett. Both slugs punched into the outlaw’s chest who was dead before he hit the hard-packed gravel beside Barrett. The deputy marshal then shifted his aim to the third outlaw.

  However, Burke was now under the full effect of the two bullets Lem had put in him, and was sinking to his knees. Ford made sure he was done, with a bullet to his head.

  ‘Lem, are you OK?’

  ‘Hit in the shoulder,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Damn it. There’s still four more of them.’

  Ford dropped out the spent cartridges from the Colt and started to replace them with fresh rounds. He was about done when more gunfire erupted. This time it was further along the street. He rammed in the last bullet and closed the loading gate. Then he stepped out on to the street and looked along to where the gunfire raged. Then he saw Laramie go down and a feeling of dread descended over him.

  Once he hit the street, Laramie’s weapons worked with a well-oiled ease. He walked steadily towards the outlaws and opened fire.

  The outlaws had been facing the other way, their guns out as they watched the battle at the jail further along the dusty street. The gunfighter fired his first shot and Coyle dropped like a stone. The other three whirled about and Laramie’s second shot flew wide of its mark.

  Lead stormed through the air as the outlaws fired with wild abandon. Laramie felt the hot rush of air near his face as the bullets almost kissed his skin. He fired again, and Ingram lurched to the left with a bullet in his arm.

  A barrage of slugs came at the gunfighter, and he was just wondering how they were missing him when he felt a hammer blow radiate through his right leg. It went numb, and refused to hold Laramie’s weight. He fell to the hard-packed earth of the street, vulnerable and a sitting target.

  With pain shooting up his leg, the gunfighter rolled on to his stomach to find another target. The remaining three were still firing at him, causing small geysers of earth to erupt around him. It was only a matter of time before one killed him.

  A grim smile split Ford’s lips when he saw his friend move. At least he was still alive. For the moment. But not for long if he didn’t do something.

  Ford let the hammer fall on a fresh round and Wills shot forwards as the bullet burned deep between his shoulder blades.

  Manton whirled and saw Ford coming towards him. He raised his six-gun and fired at the deputy marshal. A puff of dirt erupted at Ford’s feet. The outlaw fired again, and this time Ford felt it tug at the material of his shirt.

  Ford fired back and missed, but the next shot found flesh and Manton went up on his toes before Ford sighted and fired again. Manton fell backwards to the
unforgiving earth and didn’t move.

  Now, the only outlaw left was the wounded Ingram who suddenly had second thoughts about dying and dropped his weapon, throwing his hands in the air.

  ‘Don’t shoot!’

  Ford kept him covered and walked forwards. In the background, he saw Laramie start to climb to his feet. ‘You all right?’ he called to the gunfighter.

  Laramie began a laboured limp towards them. ‘Bastard shot the heel off my boot. Hurt like hell.’

  ‘Thought they’d got you for a moment.’

  Footsteps sounded beside him, and Ford turned his head. Lem stood there, his arm cradled against the pain. ‘Are you OK?’

  The sheriff grimaced. ‘I’ll live. How about you two?’

  Laramie limped over to them and said, ‘Never felt better.’

  Chapter 15

  ‘Riders coming in,’ Laramie said through the open front door to the jail.

  Ford put down his cup of coffee on the desk and walked outside to stand near the gunfighter. He looked along the street and saw them: four riders on tired-looking horses. They were led by a thin-faced man with slim hips and shoulders. His name was Roy Willis.

  The men drew up to the hitch rail outside the jail and Willis said, ‘Ain’t you on the wrong side of the cell door?’

  Ford shrugged. ‘Had a slight problem.’

  ‘Laramie,’ Willis greeted the gunfighter with a nod.

  ‘Roy.’

  Willis and the other marshals climbed down. ‘Want to tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Brick Carlisle’s gang rode in. Thought they could cut him loose and rob the bank at the same time. They figured wrong. We helped Lem out.’

  Willis took Ford’s hand and the two men shook. ‘It’s good to see you, Josh. Mind you, I wish it was under better circumstances.’

  ‘Me too, Roy.’

  ‘How about we go inside and have a chat?’

  Ford nodded. ‘Sure. How about the saloon?’

  ‘You’re still a prisoner, you know?’

  ‘Condemned man has to have a last drink.’

  Willis gave him a wry smile. ‘That’s a meal, but what the hell. Coming, Laramie?’

  ‘Since you’re buying, I ain’t going to knock it back.’

  Willis shook his head. ‘I knew there was a catch to it somewhere.’

  The three men sat around a battered table, sharing a bottle of watered-down liquid that tasted as though some cowhand had washed his socks in it. The other marshals were at another table not far away.

  Willis stared at Ford and said, ‘Right, talk to me.’

  Ford sighed. ‘So, you know Bass has disappeared, right?’

  ‘Bit hard not to since I’ve been put in charge. Come on, Josh, stop wasting time.’

  ‘Ben Travers and I are working together to track him down. We met up in Bender’s Gulch and while we was there, I received a note about Scar Ferguson. It said if I didn’t go and brace him, Bass would be killed. After that was done, a feller appeared at our camp and had on him a paper with a list of names.’

  ‘I know about the names,’ Willis said. ‘Travers messaged us, and we did some digging. Apparently they are all connected through a case and Bass was the arresting officer. Travers went back over to Rock Flats to follow a lead. Tell me about the prison.’

  ‘I forged transfer papers and got Thomas out. The feller who delivered the list of names said they were all to be killed.’

  A long breath escaped Willis’ lips. ‘Damn it, Josh.’

  ‘It ain’t what you think. One of the guards followed us and snuck up after dark and shot him. I killed the guard. I figure the guard had a purpose to watch over Thomas to make sure he wouldn’t talk. But he gave me the names of Milburn Allen and West. West was the only one he knew the location of.’

  ‘And you went and killed him.’

  Ford shook his head. ‘Nope. Well, yes.’

  ‘Christ,’ Willis swore. ‘I might as well turn my badge in now. No wonder your old man grumbled so much.’

  ‘West tried to shoot me in his office. I had no choice. And then there’s Milburn.’

  Ford saw the expression of dread cast a shadow over Willis’ face. Laramie sat forward and said, ‘In our defence, his heart gave out before we could question him too much.’

  Willis rolled his eyes. ‘This just gets better. You were there?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘For a man who’s sworn to uphold the law and was trying not to kill anyone, you sure failed in that respect.’

  ‘You don’t know the best part yet,’ Ford pointed out.

  Willis’ voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘Milburn’s son works for the governor. Apart from Bass, he’s the only one left who knows what the hell is going on.’

  ‘Not quite true,’ Willis said. ‘After Travers sent word asking about them, like I said, I looked into it myself. Apparently the young man in question was acquitted at trial for the murder of a young lady named Maria Kemp. It turns out her father lives in Rock Flats, which is where Bass was when he went missing.’

  ‘You think that is a coincidence?’ Ford asked.

  ‘Be a mighty big one if it was,’ Willis said.

  Ford started to rise from the chair. ‘Well, then that’s where I’m going.’

  ‘You seem to forget, I have a prior claim, Josh.’

  He sat back down. ‘You know Bass could be there, Roy.’

  ‘He could, but if he was, do you think we might have heard by now from Ben?’

  ‘You haven’t heard from him?’

  ‘Nope. Not since the last inquiry about Allen.’

  Ford got back to his feet. ‘Come on, Laramie, are you in?’

  ‘Until the end.’

  ‘Wait!’ Willis called after them. His voice sounded tired. ‘I’m coming too. Can’t have my prisoner running around everywhere unsupervised.’

  Willis stood and turned to the other marshals. ‘Head back to Helena. See what you can find out about Milburn Allen’s son. We’ll be a few days.’

  They left the saloon and hurried along to the livery to get their horses ready. By the time they rode out of town, the sun was almost down.

  Oliver Kemp sat in front of his fireplace with a tumbler of brandy. He stared at the orange and blue flames that licked at the fresh logs. A knock sounded at the study door and he turned his head to look at it.

  The knock sounded again.

  Kemp sighed. ‘Yes?’

  The door opened, and Harper entered. In his hand was a piece of paper. ‘News, Mr Kemp.’

  The bodyguard crossed the floor and gave Kemp the note, who opened it and read. After a couple of minutes, he stared at Harper. ‘It would seem that our Marshal Ford is quite capable. Milburn Allen can be scratched from our list.’

  ‘That just leaves Chris Allen, sir.’

  Kemp’s face darkened. ‘I’ve told you before, Harper, I’ll not have his name spoken in this house.’

  ‘Sorry, sir.’

  ‘It won’t be long and he’ll be here. A week maybe, after he takes care of the final matter.’

  ‘Providing he does what he’s supposed to do and works out where we are?’

  Kemp stared into the flames. ‘I’m quite sure that by the time he’s finished, he’ll know where to come.’

  ‘I hope so, sir.’

  ‘Have Hollister start work on the gallows tomorrow. With two ropes. We’ll hang them side by side.’

  ‘I’ll see to it, Mr Kemp.’

  ‘Good. That’ll be all.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Harper left the room and it grew quiet. Every now and then a pop and crackle from the fire could be heard. Kemp stared down at the picture on his lap. ‘Soon, my dear Maria, it will all be over soon.’

  Chapter 16

  It wasn’t long after noon two days later when the three riders arrived at Rock Flats.

  ‘How do you want to play this, Josh?’ Willis asked.

  ‘You’re the boss, Roy,’ Fo
rd said. ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘I was thinking if Laramie rides in with us, it’ll draw too much attention. Especially with that bronc he’s riding.’

  Laramie’s horse snorted. Bo was a chocolate-coloured appaloosa. A big, one-man horse which had been given to him by a Cheyenne warrior some time back.

  ‘Maybe he can ride in alone and find himself a room. You and I will ride in together and get you locked away in the jail. That way if they want you, they’ll have to come and get you.’

  Ford couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Like a chicken ripe for the plucking. No thanks.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. You don’t think I’d leave you hanging, do you? Between me and Laramie, we’ll keep an eye out.’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘You don’t have to like it, just do it.’

  They drew up in the centre of the road and Ford reached down and unbuckled the gun belt. He tossed it across to Willis. The marshal caught it and placed it in his saddle-bag.

  Laramie said, ‘I guess I’ll see you gents later on.’

  ‘I’ll meet you in the saloon after dark. We can have a meal and a drink.’

  Ford grumbled something under his breath.

  ‘What was that?’ Willis asked.

  ‘I said don’t choke.’

  They chuckled, and Ford grumbled once more.

  ‘Hey, Buck. Riders coming in. That makes three this afternoon,’ the deputy called from outside on the boardwalk.

  Hollister dragged his backside from the off-kilter timber chair and walked slowly across to the door. He left the jail and stood beside his deputy. They watched the riders draw closer and before long they were able to recognize the badge on Willis’ coat.

  ‘He’s a marshal.’

  ‘Another one,’ the deputy said and dropped his hand to his six-gun.

  ‘Easy,’ Hollister cautioned. ‘Let’s just see what it’s all about. Might be he just wants to use the cell for the night.’

  Willis and Ford eased their horses to a halt at the hitch rail. Willis greeted them and said, ‘You wouldn’t have a cell I could borrow for the night would you, sheriff?’

 

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