Six-Gun Nemesis

by Colin Bainbridge

  Virginy’s eyes were shining in the light of a lamp. Kitchenbrand thought he saw the glimmer of a tear.

  ‘He’s only a boy,’ she said. ‘Landogoshen, he ain’t had much of a chance with only me to keep an eye out for him.’

  Kitchenbrand smiled. ‘I figure he coulda done a lot worse,’ he said.

  Chapter Three

  Kitchenbrand woke early the next morning and made his way to the shack. Virginy was already up and about and had bacon and beans sizzling in the pan.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ she said. ‘I kept thinkin’ about Ty. I just hope you’re right about workin’ with the marshal.’

  He ate quickly and then fed and saddled the horses. Virginy was anxious to be gone but Kitchenbrand pointed out that the marshal was not likely to be expecting him at so early an hour.

  Eventually they rode out, following the trail Kitchenbrand had ridden. It was still earlier than Kitchenbrand would have preferred, but even as they approached the marshal’s house he realized that something was wrong. The front door was open and he could see what looked like blood on the front porch.

  ‘Wait here,’ he snapped, ‘while I find out what’s goin’ on.’

  He leaped from the saddle and ran forward, drawing his six-gun as he did so. Virginy ignored his instruction and followed behind. He flung himself through the doorway. There was more blood on the carpet and evidence of a struggle having taken place in the main room; chairs were scattered, a settee had been upended and there was glass on the floor. There was no sign of either the marshal or his prisoner.

  ‘Purdom!’ Kitchenbrand shouted.

  The door leading to the room where Garland was to have spent the night was open and Kitchenbrand ran inside. The first thing he noticed was that the window looking out on the garden had been smashed. Then he saw Purdom lying face down on the floor in a pool of blood. He sprang to his side and carefully turned him over.

  Purdom was still breathing but he was in a bad way. He had been shot in the chest and there was a bad gash on the back of his head. There was no sign of Ty Garland. It was obvious that Purdom needed a doctor and quick. Laying the marshal’s head down, he was about to make for the front door when he became aware of Virginy behind him.

  ‘What’s happened to Ty?’ she shouted.

  ‘I don’t know. The marshal’s been hurt. Stay here while I run and get a doctor.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Virginy said. ‘You don’t know the town. I know where to find Doc Groves.’

  She turned and set off at a surprisingly brisk pace. Kitchenbrand got to his feet and took a quick look at the rest of the house. He returned to the room where the marshal lay and it seemed no time at all till he heard the rush of footsteps and Virginy ran in with a grey-haired wiry man right behind her.

  ‘I’m Doc Groves,’ he said.

  He kneeled down beside the prostrate form of the marshal. After checking him over, he glanced up at Kitchenbrand.

  ‘I think we got to him in the nick of time,’ he said. He turned to Virginy. ‘Get some towels and some hot water. I’m gonna need your help while I operate.’

  Kitchenbrand left the doctor and Virginy to deal with the marshal and took a look outside. He found sign of four horses. He figured that three riders must have been involved in freeing Garland. The other horse must have been for Garland’s use. What did that mean in terms of Garland’s innocence? It seemed there was only one conclusion to be drawn, but somehow he still found a strange reluctance to concede the youngster’s guilt. After a time the doctor and Virginy appeared.

  ‘It was a lucky you found him when you did,’ the doctor said. ‘The actual damage isn’t as bad as I thought, but if he had been left much longer he would have died of shock and loss of blood. I’ve removed the bullet and cleaned the wound. The best thing for him now is rest.’

  ‘What about the head injury?’ Kitchenbrand said.

  ‘I’d say someone hit him with the butt of a pistol. It’s a nasty gash but not much more.’

  ‘Did he come round?’

  ‘Only briefly. He was in no condition to take anything in.’ The doctor looked at Kitchenbrand with suspicion. ‘The marshal has obviously been set upon in his own home. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘Nope. I found him this way.’ Kitchenbrand didn’t go into any further explanations and the doctor did not press him.

  ‘I’ll arrange for Bella Mayes to come over and keep an eye on him.’ If the doctor was baffled by Virginy’s presence, he did not show it.

  While he was talking to the doctor, Kitchenbrand was thinking rapidly. It could only be a short time before the whole town knew what had happened. They would soon realize that Garland was gone from the jailhouse. Things could get awkward. He had done what he could for Purdom and there remained only one thing further that he could do, and that was to find Garland. He owed it to the marshal to track him down and bring him in. The situation had changed dramatically. Whatever the outcome might have been if Purdom had not been attacked was beside the point now. Innocent or guilty, Garland needed to be found.

  He tried not to dwell on the question of whether Garland had betrayed him. He felt a strong sense of guilt. It had been his idea to free the youngster. He didn’t just owe it to Purdom, he owed it to himself to deal with Garland.

  The big question was whether Garland had carried out the assault himself or whether he had been assisted. From what Kitchenbrand had been able to deduce, it looked as though others had been involved. The fact that some of the Yuma boys had been in town suggested it was them. But how had they known that Garland had been transferred to the marshal’s house? Come to that, why would the Yuma gang be interested in trying to free Garland in the first place?

  It was the same question that he had asked himself already. Wouldn’t they be more likely to have just let him hang? Whatever the answers might be to those questions, finding the Yuma gang was the obvious starting point.

  Once he had received the doc’s assurances, Kitchenbrand made the decision that there was no point in wasting time. When the doctor had left to fetch Bella Mayes, he outlined his proposal to Virginy.

  ‘I don’t care how it looks,’ she said, ‘my grandson is innocent. He didn’t have nothin’ to do with this.’

  ‘We ain’t got time to argue the point,’ Kitchenbrand replied. ‘Pretty soon there’s gonna be a heap of folk here and they’ll all be pointin’ the finger. If we don’t leave right now, we might find it hard to get another chance. And you ain’t exactly popular around town to start with.’

  Virginy nodded. ‘Let’s get movin’’ she said.

  Well before rumours began to spread, Kitchenbrand and Virginy had left Chaparral Bend behind them.

  They kept riding till they had put some distance between themselves and the town. Then they continued to drift southwards, allowing their horses to go at their own pace. After continuing that way for a while, Virginy rode her horse up close to Kitchenbrand’s.

  ‘You got any idea where we’re goin’?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kitchenbrand replied. ‘I might be wrong, but I got a hunch.’

  From his experiences with the Yuma gang of old, Kitchenbrand knew the sort of place they would be likely to seek as a base of operations and his instinct told him where it could be. He had heard talk about an almost inaccessible valley to the south-west which was reputed to be connected by obscure trails to other renegade roosts. It was a fair bet that the Yuma gang would be somewhere in the vicinity.

  ‘Do you reckon you can find it?’ Virginy asked.

  ‘I reckon so. But I ain’t sure what we’ll do once we get there.’

  ‘Time enough to worry about that,’ Virginy replied. ‘Consarnit, we got troubles enough to occupy us before we ever get there.’

  As they rode, Kitchenbrand kept his eyes open for sign that might have been made by a sizeable group of riders. It didn’t take him long to discover it. It was still quite fresh and, as he had surmised, the tracks led in the general direction of Buzzard
Valley. There were plenty of other indications that a number of riders had passed that way: cigarette butts, a discarded canteen.

  A little further on they came to a place where the riders had obviously made camp. They had probably ridden out in the small hours and stopped around mid-morning. The ashes still held vestiges of heat. It was clear that at least half a dozen people had been there.

  ‘Guess we’re on the right track,’ he said.

  After they had examined the traces of the camp, they mounted up and continued to ride till the sun was low in the sky, when they found a suitable spot to rest up.

  One thing Kitchenbrand was not too concerned about was the matter of provisions. Long experience of riding the trails had taught him the wisdom of being prepared and he had supplies in his saddle-bags. Even so, he reflected, it would have been useful if they could have brought a few more things from the shack.

  He built a fire and threw some bacon into the pan. When they had eaten they sat back with a tin mug of coffee and a cigarette in their hands. The night was a black veil diamonded with stars. A soft wind blew up from the prairie and rustled through the leaves of the trees. Tethered just out of reach of the firelight, the horses snorted and then were quiet. An owl hooted.

  ‘You know,’ Virginy said, ‘if it weren’t for worryin’ about what’s become of Ty, I could be quite content.’

  ‘Yeah. I know what you mean. Kinda peaceful, ain’t it?’

  ‘You feel more comfortable out in the open than with a roof over your head, don’t you?’

  ‘You referrin’ to my campin’ out the last couple of nights rather than spendin’ time in the shack?’

  ‘Yes, but not just that.’

  Kithchenbrand suddenly broke into a laugh. ‘Never quite figured it this way,’ he said.

  A little earlier that same evening and a hundred miles away, another man was contemplating his situation. Angel Addison was so named because of his youthful and innocent-looking features, but it would be hard to think of a more inappropriate sobriquet. The man was a killer and it was not by accident that he had fought his way to becoming leader of the notorious Yuma gang.

  The gang was named after the fact that Angel and a good few of the others had spent time in the dreaded Yuma penitentiary, the most hated penal institution in the south-west. Its high adobe walls, guard towers and Gatling gun had not been enough to prevent Angel escaping. He had no intention of going back.

  As he sat on the veranda of the hut that he called his headquarters he was quietly complimenting himself on the fact that it was highly unlikely the law would ever be able to find him in his mountain valley fastness, where a shanty town of shacks and adobe huts had grown to accommodate him and his owlhoot crew. The settlement was really quite a sight; there were even a couple of saloons and stores and he had dignified it with a name: Addisonville.

  The sun was sinking behind the mountains and although there weren’t many people about, sounds of revelry floated up from the street below as some of the owlhoots blew off steam. He turned to the woman sitting beside him.

  ‘Let’s you and me have some fun,’ he said.

  She looked down at the scene below. ‘I am feeling tired,’ she replied. ‘Do we have to go down and join those others?’

  ‘Nope, we sure don’t.’

  She smiled and, getting to her feet, came and sat on his knee. She put her head close to his.

  ‘You mean that? Just you and your Delta? None of the other girls?’

  ‘Just you and me,’ he replied. ‘I got somethin’ special in mind and this time it’s all for you.’

  She drew her head back and gave him a quizzical look. Just at that moment a shot rang out and involuntarily she flinched.

  ‘It’s just one of the boys havin’ some fun,’ he said. His hand had just moved between her legs when there came a second shot. He grinned. ‘That ain’t any of the boys down there in town,’ he said. ‘That’s Pike on guard atop the pass, lettin’ off a warnin’ shot. Looks like we got visitors.’ He pushed her aside and rose to his feet. ‘Go on in,’ he said, ‘I won’t be long.’

  The girl straightened her dress and made her way inside the cabin. Addison turned and leaned on the balustrade. Presently a rider came into sight. He rode into the yard, dismounted and approached Addison.

  ‘We got him, boss!’ he shouted.

  ‘Good work, Yager!’

  ‘The boys are bringin’ him in. I rode on ahead to tell you the news.’

  ‘What sort of state is he in?’

  ‘Don’t worry. He’s still in one piece.’

  When the man had gone, Addison remained on the veranda a little longer. Now that Garland had been brought in, things were really looking up. He thought about Garland for a few more moments, then he turned and made his way into the cabin. Garland could wait. Delta was waiting for him and he had a few things in mind for her that might surprise even Yager and the boys if they knew.

  Late the following day Kitchenbrand and Virginy reached the foothills of the Buzzard range. It had taken them longer than expected because the country was new to both of them and the tracks Kitchenbrand had been following were harder to discern on the rocky ground. At this point he couldn’t be sure that he was still on the right track as the trail seemed to lead straight towards a seemingly impassable wall of rock. When they reached it they found a narrow cleft that led into a canyon. The walls were high at first but soon dropped so that the canyon became a small valley. They rode through it till they reached a point where a narrow side trail led them up and then alongside the hill.

  Darkness was descending when they drew to a halt and dismounted. They hobbled the horses and then proceeded on foot. Kitchenbrand was pretty sure that Addison would have set guards to keep watch on the usual way through to the valley, assuming he wasn’t altogether wrong. Even those precautions were probably unnecessary as the trail would be barely known to anyone but the owlhoots who made use of it.

  Kitchenbrand climbed to the crest of a rise from where he could look down on a wide expanse of terrain. As he did so he felt his chest tighten. He wasn’t wrong after all. Below him and a little distance away stood a collection of rude buildings which he guessed constituted the robbers’ roost he was looking for. Most of them were congregated together along a line which formed a rough and ready main street but there were others scattered about the lower slopes of the surrounding hills. He watched closely for some time but there was no sign of movement.

  As night descended Kitchenbrand expected to see some lights appear but the place gave every indication of being deserted. He watched for a little while longer and then, when he had satisfied himself as to its layout, he returned to where he had left the horses with Virginy. In a few words, he outlined what he had seen.

  ‘Seems to me we got two choices,’ he said. ‘Either we try to sneak into the roost or we just ride in under cover of dark.’

  ‘Goldurn it, I ain’t never been one for sneakin’ about.’

  ‘OK, but we still keep to the back trail and try to avoid any guards.’

  He didn’t like to admit to a feeling of disappointment. Had he got things wrong after all? There seemed to be little evidence of any activity. All the same, it would be wise to exercise caution. He hoisted himself into the saddle and together they rode on. Night had fallen but the starlight was enough for their horses to pick their way. They crested the hill and then began to move slowly down towards the settlement. A breeze blew down from the mountains and the horses, scenting something, tossed their heads and sidestepped. Kitchenbrand signalled for them to stop.

  They sat for a while, watching and listening. They could see and hear nothing, but even if the place was occupied, they probably wouldn’t have picked up any sounds because the wind was blowing the wrong way. When he was satisfied that it was safe to continue, Kitchenbrand motioned with his hand for them to proceed.

  They continued to angle their way down the hillside. When they reached level ground they were about a hundred yards from the
nearest cabin. The track was well marked, which showed that use had been made of it very recently. Kitchenbrand leaned forward and felt for his rifle in its scabbard. He was beginning to feel edgy. He had spent many nights alone on the open prairie without having that sensation, but this was something different. The mere presence of the empty deserted buildings lent an extra dimension of solitude; he had the strange notion that their occupiers had only just left. The whole atmosphere was eerie.

  They were approaching the outermost shack when Kitchenbrand became aware that they were being watched. It was a kind of sixth sense he had developed over the years and he was seldom mistaken. He wondered if Virginy felt the same but decided against saying anything to her, even though the hairs on the back of his neck seemed to rise and he felt a tingling sensation run down the back of his head. Every instinct told him to get down from the saddle but something impelled him to ride on. He kept his head facing forward but his eyes swivelled. It was darker down in the valley than it had been on the hillside and once they were among the buildings the shadows were deeper. The wind had died and the only sound was the slow soft thud of their horses’ hoofs.

  Suddenly he thought he detected a glimmer of something paler than the surrounding gloom on the balcony of what appeared to be a saloon. His nerves were fluttering and it took a conscious effort to hold at bay a rising tide of dread that clutched at his throat and stomach with fingers of ice. He would far rather have faced any number of desperadoes than this unknown phantom.

  His eyes caught a faint suggestion of movement. Instinctively he reached for his six-guns. Then he heard a faint moaning sound which for a moment froze the blood in his veins till his senses returned and he realized it was not the moan of a banshee but the faint sound of someone in distress. Virginy’s glance indicated that she had heard it too.

  In a second he had dropped from the saddle. Quickly he tied his horse to a hitch rail and, as Virginy did likewise, he slipped carefully through the batwing doors. His eyes could discern very little but as they grew accustomed to the darkness he was able to perceive a stairway in one corner. Still moving with extreme caution, he made his way across the intervening space, colliding with some chairs and a table as he did so. He hesitated for a moment when his foot found the bottom stair, before beginning a slow ascent. His gun was in his hand, although he had no recollection of having drawn it. He came to a landing and had to pause again, even though the darkness was not so dense. A soft footfall on the stair behind him made him start till he realized it was Virginy. He put a finger to his lips. A very faint light was entering the passageway from an open door. As he moved towards it he heard again the faint moan. It was coming from inside the room.