King of the Gun Trail: A Frontier G-Man Novel

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King of the Gun Trail: A Frontier G-Man Novel Page 19

by Franklin D. Lincoln

King was waiting at the top of the ridge, standing tall like a General with the look of self satisfied anticipation on his face, reminiscent of a child waiting for Santa Claus. "I thought you’d like a front row view of the show, "he grinned and gestured to the scene below.

  There below the bluff where they stood was San Angelo’s Red Rock Prison. It stood tall and ominous in the desert twilight. Desert sands stretched on all sides expanding out into endless nothingness, where escaping prisoners only escaped to the hot merciless execution of the burning desert sun.. The bluffs to the right and left complemented this one that they now stood on to form an end of the line extra fortress of rock walls surrounding this hell hole known as San Angelo Prison. Home of the worst killers and outlaws in the west.

  King turned to Tamara. "Too bad, my dear. You could have been at my side in my great moments of triumph. You would have had had the whole world at your feet. If only you hadn’t betrayed me."

  "Betrayed you?" I was never with you. I only got near you to get you. You killed my sister, Alice. And I wanted to get even. Do you think I’d let thing like you touch me otherwise. No. I wanted you dead."

  King shook his head, "I should have guessed it. You resemble her so." Then he added, "Pity though." Then to Palmer, "Watch them." He strode away.

  The sun was beginning to set on the distant horizon, the desert sands glowing in orange and violet rays. The entire scene was surreal like a fantasy land.

  Jack felt the proceedings engage as if in slow motion, sickness churning his insides and he felt like vomiting. King had raised his hand and brought it down in signal. A cannon roared and the deadly ball hit the wall of the prison, exploding on impact. Stone and mortar flew high into the air. Riflemen followed with a barrage of fire through the gaping hole in the wall, lead filling the air to be stopped by whatever unfortunate was in the way. The second Cannon thundered and another missile hit its mark, blowing a larger gaping hole. The volley of rifle fire continued. And then the unexpected!

  The sound of a cannon on the far bluff roared and the exploding ball sent King’s number two cannon flying into the air, turret wheel spinning out over the bluff. Body parts of the crew sprayed the countryside with flesh and blood. The accompanying impact of the blast sent King reeling to the ground. Clayton and Tamara fell backward into Palmer and Malloy. They all rolled tangled up in each other down the slope.

  The ground rocked and shook like a great earthquake as another cannonball struck, blasting men and equipment forty ways from Sunday. Kings third cannon crew had little time to react. They had just touched the fuse off when the second ball landed. They jumped back, only to be hit with another on coming ball, the impact sending them pitching skyward, like flying debris. The cannon went off just as the ball landed and its thunder rolled across the sky with no effecting damage.

  Cannonball after cannonball lobbed into the perimeter, exploding, wielding death and destruction, the entire bluff burst into crimson flame.

  Jack and Tamara had rolled to the bottom of the slope. Shep Palmer was obviously dead and sprawled across Malloy’s distorted body.. The G-Man knew not who was responsible for this attack on King, but he and Tamara was right in the middle of it and could perish with King’s men. Quickly, he rolled backward, almost into a somersault, bending his knees as far as possible, pulling his arms and hands underneath his boots and rocked forward pulling his hand up in front of him. He jumped to his feet, stooped to help Tamara up, and they both ran further sown the slope into the gathering shadows of scrub bush and fell behind the nearest cover. Jack dropped behind, Tamara. Now with his hands in front of him, he could work at her bonds and quickly loosened them enough to pull her hands free. She rolled over and quickly started to work on Jack’s.

  By the time they were both free, the firing and shelling was subsiding. The entire bluff was ablaze. Bodies strewn everywhere. Then in the distance they heard a bugle playing Recall. The Cavalry! They had been waiting there for King’s attack. But how did they know?"

  There was no time to ponder the question, now, for in the shimmering light of the crimson glow, the G-Man could see Corbin heading down the slope. Frightened horses were floundering and milling about in the confusion. Corbin caught one up and climbed into the saddle.

  Clayton sprang to his feet and ran as fast as he could after Corbin. The frightened horses shied away as Jack tried to catch one up, but after a few tries he managed to pull a big black under control. He swung into the saddle, let the black have his head, and kicked him into pursuit of Corbin.

  Corbin had a good head start, but in his haste, he picked a horse that didn’t have the speed or stamina that the black had. Jacked urged him on, demanding more speed and getting it.

  Corbin disappeared around the bend ahead, but Jack’s steed closed in, rounded the bend bringing Corbin into view once again.

  Corbin turned in the saddle, saw the G-Man closing in. Hastily, he threw a shot at Jack. From the bouncing horse to firing at another man also on a bouncing horse, Corbin’s shot went wild.

  Jack’s mount was eating up trail. The gap between them closed. Corbin whipped another shot at Jack, then another. One bullet did manage to come close enough to whiz over Jack’s head, but Corbin realizing the futility of firing, holstered his gun to concentrate on pushing his mount. He raked the horse’s hide with his spurs and whipped him up, slashing the reins back and forth beating the steed’s neck and front flanks. Eyes forward, Corbin drove the horse on, not daring to look back for fear the G-man would be on him.

  And fearful, he should have been, for Clayton had moved up alongside of him, reached out and lifted from the saddle, and crashing onto Corbin’s stocky frame. The force of the leap pushed Corbin out of his saddle and they both crashed to the ground with a crushing blow.

  They both had the wind knocked out of them, but Jack recovered first. He was straightening to his feet when Corbin rolled over, pulling his Colt from his holster. Jack leaped sideways as the pistol belched flame and he felt its heat pass close to his cheek.

  Corbin was swinging his Colt around to bear down on Clayton, when the G-Man dived low, head first into Corbin’s midsection, his arms around his legs at the knees and driving him back to the ground.

  Corbin’s pistol roared again, but the shot went upward into the air as he fell backward. Jack lunged erect and stomped his boot on Corbin’s wrist. His fingers wracked with pain, loosed their grip on the pistol butt and the gun fell into the dirt.

  Clayton reached down and picked up the gun. Calmly and deliberately, he place the muzzle close to Corbin’s face. Jack’s eyes were cold and menacing. He spoke not a word. Corbin’s body shook and he began to cry.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty

  Aftermath

 

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