Chapter 8
Hired Guns
“You’re offering a thousand dollars each for us to kill three teenagers?” asked the man dressed in black.
“No, try and pay attention,” started Samantha.
The man’s hand darted to the butt of his gun at the sting of the insult. Samantha could not help but notice the aggressive move and softened her tone accordingly. She was not accustomed to dealing with men of this caliber.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, lets settle down a little, let me explain. I have sent for all three of you to avenge the murder of my dear Pa. Mr. Lane, twenty known kills, and never failed on a target yet.” Samantha said, leveling an adorning gaze at the man.
The man in black eased his hand from the butt of his .44, “and I won’t miss this time either.”
“Mr. Hoffman, you do not have a well known reputation but you come highly recommended.”
“That only means I’ll work harder to build that reputation,” said Hoffman, buffing out his chest.
“Well, yes, I hope so. And finally, that leaves you Mr. Patch. The word I‘ve received, and please don’t let me offend you, is that you would kill your own mother if the price was right.”
“Why would I be offended by that Miss? And by the way, the price was right.”
The other three in the room looked at Patch to see if he was making a joke. There was no humor in his face.
“Okay, with introductions behind us let's get down to business. These three boys murdered my Pa and shot me in the process. I want them dead, all of them, and I will pay each of you five hundred dollars now and a thousand dollars to the man that kills Ray Cooper,” outlined Samantha.
“What if all three of us put a bullet into Cooper?” asked Mr. Lane.
“Then I guess you will have to split the thousand dollars three ways, won’t you?” answered Miss Foster with a petulant shake of her head.
Lane’s hand gripped into a fist and he stepped toward Samantha having felt the insult hit him like a slap in the face. “Nobody talks to me like that, not even an uppity teenage bitch like you!”
“You hit me Mr. Lane and you will never see any of that money.”
“Ignore her Lane,” said Hoffman, “I don’t know ‘bout you but I sure could use that thousand dollars.”
Lane turned slowly to stare at Hoffman. “You can forget about that thousand dollars. I already started spendin’ it.”
“On what?” asked Hoffman.
“Bullets,” answered Lane. No one saw the gun clear leather, only the flash from the muzzle, the deafening explosion, and the smell of the burned gunpowder. Hoffman stood in shock as a large red stain began to grow on the front of his shirt. He slumped and collapsed onto the floor.
Lane began to turn towards Patch only to find Patch’s hands full of six shooters. “I’m not a tin horn like Hoffman was. You go your way and I’ll go mine. Best man wins,” said Patch as he un-cocked his .44’s and slipped them back down into their leather sleeves.
“If you gentlemen are done trying to kill each other, here is your five hundred dollars. Good hunting.”
“What about the five hundred you were gonna pay Hoffman? I think you should split that between Patch and Me,” said Lane.
Samantha turned and as she walked away. Over her shoulder she said, “Gentlemen, you have your money. I believe Mr. Hoffman earned his portion.” And with that she was gone, leaving the two men alone.
-CKS-
Larry, John, and Richard were all sitting around the table when they realized that several hours had passed since Ray’s departure.
“You boys have known Ray a long time I would guess, would you say he’s that good a lover or did he fall asleep?” asked Richard.
“Well, I think he’s fairly new to the enjoyments of a good woman, maybe he wanted to partake of as much as he could before he had to rejoin the trail,” laughed Larry.
“He’s always struck me as someone with no quit in him. I figure he was done an hour ago but because he ain’t used to all that whiskey he’s done passed out,” said John.
“Why don’t we go up and get him. I bet these sons of a bitch would charge him the night for passin’ out in the room,” said Larry.
The three rose from the table and headed for the stairs. A couple of the saloon girls intersected their path, “You boys want some girl company up there or is this going to be an all male party?” laughed one of the girls.
Before Richard or John could speak, Larry blurted out, “All male but thank you girls for the offer.”
With mouths droppin’ to the floor the girls started to slowly move back to the bar.
“Larry, do you have any idea what those girls meant by all male party?” asked John.
“Oh hell, I didn’t think they meant that!” answered Larry with a red face.
“Oh well, too late now,” laughed Richard as he shook his head.
At the top of the stairs the boys started opening doors looking for their friend. Surprised faces returned their glance several times before they found the room with Mr. Rip tied up. He was awake and had been trying to get free.
John looked at Larry and shook his head, “This looks like the work of your friend.”
“My friend! You’ve known him longer than me,” answered Larry.
Pulling his gun out of his holster and raising it over his head, “I swear that boy is trying to take on every powerful man in the country,” said Larry as the gun came down hard on the back of Rip’s head. Rip stopped trying to get free.
The two turned and headed for the door. Richard continued to stand there wondering what had just happened, and why the search for Ray had ended.
“Why did you do that? Where are we goin’?” asked Richard with a confused look on his face.
“To the wagons, the stars and my bedroll,” answered Larry as he walked out into the hallway.
John spotted the staircase down to the back door and signaled the others to follow.
“No need to go out the front door. Might as well let those girls think we’re havin’ one hell of a party without them,” said John with a sour look towards Larry.
“Why the look?” said Larry, “I thought it was the best way to be left alone so we could search for Ray.”
“Oh, we’ll be left alone all right. I just hope word doesn’t spread to the wagon train or we’ll have to prove ourselves all the way to California,” John said.
-CKS-
Patch and Lane were both headed for the same place: Missouri. They knew going west was safer in numbers and they knew that’s where the wagon trains come together. Neither of them expected much trouble when they reached the boys. It was simply a race against each other. The first one there would put a bullet into Cooper’s head and collect a thousand dollars. The other two killings would be just frosting on the cake. Lane had decided to take it at a slower pace and stay in the saddle longer. Patch borrowed two more horses from a man that no longer would miss them. He’d died unexpectedly of lead poisoning. Patch would ride one horse hard and pull the others behind. Then when it was too tired to continue he would leave it and ride one of the others. By switching horses he hoped to be in Missouri long before Lane. Patch wanted to be done with this business before Lane rode in. But he didn’t trust Lane any further than he could spit. He would also rather have Lane on his back trail rather than out in front of him waiting.
-CKS-
Larry, John and Richard were not surprised to find Ray sitting in the wagon camp. But they hadn’t expected to see a woman sitting next to him, dressed for the trail.
“Well it’s all comin’ together now,” said John as he looked from Ray to the girl. “Why is it every time you get around a pretty girl, we end up in a deeper hole?”
“Sorry boys, there was no helpin’ it. This here is Laurie Martin. She lost her husband a little while back and almost lost herself in the whor…sorry…. saloon. I figured since we were all headin’ to a new life, one more wouldn’t matter.”
�
�Until the saloon owner wakes up and sends someone out to retrieve her. It won’t be hard for them to figure out where she went and where to look for her,” said John as he leaned over the fire to grab the pot of hot coffee.
“Well, the way I see it, we lay low tonight. In the mornin’ the wagons pull out and we’ll be gone,” surmised Ray.
“That might have been a good plan but I heard the wagon departure has been delayed another couple days,” said Richard, “some more wagons are comin’ in tomorrow and they’ll be joinin’ the train.”
“Shit! Well, maybe we could ride out a ways and wait for the train to come to us,” surmised Ray.
“Except that Quincy wants us to drive a couple of the wagons,” said Larry.
“I guess all we can do is stay out of sight and hope for the best,” said Ray.
“No, I cannot let you put yourself in danger for me,” cried Laurie.
“Listen Ma’am, you can fight, cry, bite, and scratch us all you want but you’re stuck with us. If you run back to the saloon we’d have to come after you and probably get shot for our trouble. There is no way we’re leavin’ you here to whore for that man,” said Richard and added, embarrassed, “sorry about saying that word.”
“In this case, Richard is speakin’ for all of us,” said Ray.
“Okay it’s all settled, you’ll hide in my wagon until we are on the trail” instructed Richard.
“Well okay, but I won’t have any one getting killed over me,” said Laurie.
Laurie found the wagon comfortable but cramped. It was going to be difficult staying in this confined space for very long. But being caught would be much worse. The wagon had already been placed on the edge of the group so that when nature called she could slip out and back without traveling far and before too many eyes.
The following morning at the saloon office Mr. Rip was firing off orders to a handful of his men. “I want that whore found and brought back here today. Do you understand?”
“They understand Mr. Rip. What about the man that helped her?” asked one of Rip’s men.
Rising from his desk and slamming his fist on the desk, Rip thundered, “I want you to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.”
The four henchmen across from Mr. Rip turned on that note and headed out the door. They had a good idea as to where to start their search. There was only one place a person would be who wanted to get out of town for good. They headed straight out to the wagon train. As they entered the grouping of schooners they spread out and began their search.
It wasn’t long before their efforts paid off. One of Rip’s men spotted Richard walking across the camp. Recognizing him as one that had been with Ray, the henchmen followed him. When Richard reached the outside of the wagon he stopped and was observed speaking politely with someone within the wagon. This had to be it, the henchmen thought.
He left to collect his partners, as Richard was just too big to approach on his own. Within the hour the four men were observing the wagon from a safe distance.
“We’ll have to wait for that big guy to leave before we move in. I don’t want to take him on if I don’t have to,” said the leader of the scum.
An hour or so later they observed Richard rise from a nap he had taken up against the side of his wagon. He walked around to the back and without looking into the wagon said something. He then turned and walked off in the direction of town.
“You see that boys, he’s too shy to look in the wagon when he talks. That Laurie girl has got to be in there,” said the skinny, tall, henchmen that smelled of alcohol and sweat.
Noticing that the wagons near Richard’s were empty now as the owners were in town purchasing their last minute supplies and having a drink, the four henchmen moved forward toward their prey.
“You don’t think the boss would begrudge us a little sample before we take her back do you?”
“I don’t know why he would,” said his partner, “she’s a whore, ain’t she?”
The leader looked around as they approached and said, “Listen you idiots, don’t screw this up. You two go in through the front of the wagon and we’ll go in from the back. I don’t want her doing a bunch of yelling. Someone might hear and interrupt our fun before we finish.”
They quietly climbed up the front and rear of the wagon, “Richard, is that you?” came a soft voice.
The leader stuck his head in through the opening in the tarp and with a big toothless grin said, “No Ma’am, it ain’t Richard, it’s Phil, will I do?” which caused Phil to start laughing. “Mr. Rip is some angry about you runnin’ off. He told us to fetch you back. But first, me and the boys here, we're wantin’ us a sample. You wouldn’t deny us hard workin’ boys a little treat would you?”
With a cruel look on his face he swung his legs over the tailgate and stepped into the wagon. Laurie was sitting on a mattress covered with a blanket on the wagon floor. Seeing Phil approach she began to crawl away from him.
“Stay away from me you filth! I’m not that kind of woman!” yelled Laurie, “I don’t want to work for Mr. Rip. I’m a decent woman and I am not going back there!”
A hand that smelled and tasted like dirt and sweat dropped over her mouth and silenced her words.
“Let me introduce you to my brother, Buford. He’s one of those boys hopin’ you ain’t gonna try and deny us what we got comin’,” smiled Phil as he ripped the blanket off Laurie’s body.
Buford’s strong hands held Laurie down on her back with her mouth covered. Phil grabbed her kicking legs by the ankles and held them down.
“I always liked me some fight in my women,” laughed Phil as he spread her legs and forced them down onto the mattress. He sat back on his feet and put his folded knees down onto her legs to keep them down. With his hands now free he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and pulled her skirt up over her waist revealing a thin garment that he grabbed and tore from her body. Since there was not enough room for Laurie and the four men in the wagon, the other two stood waiting their turn, one on the tailgate and the other in the driver’s box. Both had stuck their heads through the openings at each end of the canvas to watch.
Phil and Buford both leaned back a little to take in their prize. “Look at that will ya Buford,” said Phil as he filled with lust, “Ever seen anythin’ more sweet?”
Laurie continued to fight and squirm but the men had her right where they wanted her and were not going to be denied. Phil licked his lips as he began to untie the rope that he used to hold up his pants.
“Damn it you two, will you hurry up, we all want some of that,” pled the men hanging outside on the tailgates.
With his pants down, Phil began to lower himself down onto Laurie. With wild eyes and tears running down the sides of her face, Laurie tried to scream through the dirty hand covering her mouth. She wanted to kick and squirm but was held down too firmly.
Buford looked up to smile at his other brother Charlie who had his head sticking in through the back of the wagon and saw a shocked look cross his face and then he was gone. Nothing left but the flapping of the canvas opening. “Charlie!” yelled Buford. “Hurry up Phil, damn it, I think Charlie fell off the back of the wagon. Hey Charlie what happened to ya, did you fall off the wagon?”
“She’s pulled her knees so tight I can’t, damn it woman, you’re making me angry!” swore Phil.
Buford heard a gasp of air from behind him and looked back over his shoulder. Clem, his other brother who had been standing in the driver’s box was gone. “Shit!” whispered Buford. “Phil, you better pull up your britches in a hurry, I think we’ve gots trouble.”
“Not until I get me some of this here whore,” demanded Phil.
The ground beneath the wagon began to rock and sway as big Richard grabbed the top of the rear gate. Lifting his huge frame up, he began to climb up into the back of the already full wagon bed. He ripped aside the canvas and stepped easily into the back. Reaching down in one single movement, he grabbed Phil by his hair and an ankle.
With raging fury and a call like a grizzly bear, Richard yanked Phil off of Laurie and tossed him out the back of the wagon. Phil flew ten feet from the end of the wagon and struck the ground hard. He tried to rise but being dazed and having his pants down around his ankles, he was temporarily immobilized.
Richard then turned his anger towards Buford. Buford looked into the inflamed eyes of Richard and said the wrong thing, “Take it easy Mister, she’s just a whore, what’s your problem?”
Buford never saw the punch coming. The blow knocked him through the canvas and into the driver’s box. Laurie grabbed the blanket and covered herself as she continued to cry and watch Richard with great satisfaction.
Buford was scrambling desperately to get away, but to no avail. Richard grabbed Buford’s old worn out shirt and lifted him over his head, launching him into the air. Buford flailed in the air until his back bent over the extended wagon tongue on the ground.
Panting and out of breath, Richard turned slightly towards Laurie, looking only from the corner of his eyes. He did not want to embarrass her and gently asked if she was okay.
“Thanks to you Richard,” she whimpered, “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll go and clean up the mess outside. You stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said.
The canvas behind Richard’s head flapped inward and Laurie heard a loud thud. Richard gave Laurie a strange, surprised look, as he fell backwards out the front of the wagon and out of sight.
“Richard!” screamed Laurie.
Laurie searched the wagon quickly and found the gun that had seemed miles away during the attack. Pulling back the curtain slowly she looked out and to her horror Richard was lying at the foot of the wagon unconscious. Blood was flowing down the front of his face; she could tell he was badly hurt. Phil was standing over Richard not five feet away from her. He was holding a large tree branch that was now cracked with blood dripping from it, and raising it above his head with the intent to bring it down hard onto Richard’s head.
“This is for medaling where you don’t belong, you over grown son of a bitch!” cried Phil through clinched teeth.
Without a second thought Laurie raised the gun and pointed it at Phil’s face. The last thing Phil saw was the flash from that barrel. Laurie began to scream seeing the pieces of Phil’s face separating from his body, as he collapsed over backwards like a tree falling in the woods.
In her concern for Richard, Laurie jumped from the back of the wagon and knelt next to him trying desperately to see how badly he was hurt. She could tell that he wasn’t dead but he was surely traveling down that trail.
Revenge Requires Two Graves Page 9