by Lydia Olson
Jacobs rubbed his chin, thinking. “I can fill water buckets and place them around the house,” he said. “If a fire starts, we’ll put it out. I can also take the liquor bottles that your uncle left behind and turn them into a kind of flaming cocktail. Hopefully, we won’t be needing them, but we’ll have them on hand if we do.”
“We should get started on that then. We don’t have any time to waste.”
Jacobs and David then proceeded to fill up several tin buckets to the brim with water from the well on the side of the house. They placed them all around the inside of the house, spaced a few feet apart and ready to be used at a moment’s notice. David then fetched six bottles of liquor from the cabinet in the kitchen. It was all whiskey and moonshine, the smell so potent when they were uncorked that it stung the eyes. David then grabbed an old shirt from the bedroom, using a knife to shred it into tiny pieces and proceeded to stuff them into the bottles. He soaked the rags in the bottles with kerosene and set them on the table near the front door. Once he was finished, he was handed a box of matches by Jacobs, then took one last look around, and saw that they were ready to begin.
“I think there’s nothing else left for us to do,” Jacobs said, “except wait, that is.”
David looked at Jacobs and Kyle. The two family members stood side by side, rifles in hand, waiting diligently to begin the fight.
“I couldn’t pull this off without either of you,” he said. “Thank you.”
Jacobs nodded as Kyle chambered a round into his repeater rifle.
“Let’s get this done,” Jacobs said. “Once they arrive, we’ll coordinate as the fight goes on. If we see an opening to send Kyle to go to the border, we’ll do it. But we’ll have to play this all by ear.”
“Understood,” David said as he grabbed his rifle. “Take your positions. I’m sure the hour is drawing near.”
All three fighters separated and went to their spots—David in the front, Jacobs on the left side of the house, and Kyle at the rear. Each man had ammunition in their pockets and near their fighting positions. They were ready. Nothing else could be done.
David, getting down on one knee, looked through the one inch slit in the boards over the front window, wide enough to see and stick his rifle through, and waited. Drawing a breath, he felt himself slip back to his days during the war. He was on edge, ready to fight—and when he saw the four figures on horseback in the distance approaching the house, he curled his finger around the trigger and prepared himself to do what needed to be done.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The glow of the moon was on their backs when they first appeared. David could not make out who the riders were. They approached at a slow trot, as if they were taking their time—confidence in their stride like they had already won the fight. David’s finger curled around the trigger, waiting for them to strike first as they arrived twenty feet shy of the front porch.
The moonlight illuminated the four men on horseback. David recognized three of them as the deputies who went by the names Adams, Traeger, and Dwyer. But the fourth man, the man in the lead, once his face came into view a cold shiver went up David’s spine. It was none other than Tucker Willis, looking gaunt and like a ghostly apparition more than he did a man.
“David,” Tucker said as he slid off his horse. I know you’re there, boy. Why don’t you come on out now?”
“Tucker Willis,” David called back. “I heard you were dead.”
Tucker laughed. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said. “But it appears that even hell doesn’t want anything to do with me. Now, come on out. You know why we’re here. Let’s just avoid a lengthy shoot-out and I can just put you down like the dog you are.”
“That’s not going to happen,” David said as he ready to his rifle. “You know dang well that I’m not going to give up. I plan on ending you, Michael Crane, and anyone else who has plagued Clarendon with crime. You know I’m not going to give up. I think we both know how this is going to end.”
Tucker took a step forward. “Yeah,” he said. “It ends with me putting a gun to the head of that pretty little girlfriend of yours and pulling the trigger. That’s going to be fun, I tell you. And I hope you’ll get to watch.”
It was all Tucker needed to say to get the shooting started. David took a square at Tucker’s chest, squeezed the trigger, and waited as the sound echoed through the house and the surrounding fields and signaled the frenzied gunfight that quickly followed.
***
The shot missed Tucker by mere inches. Sensing that David was going to fire after his taunt, Tucker quickly moved to his left a second before David’s shot went off. Tucker signaled the other deputies and dispersed the three men flanking the sides of the house. Dwyer and Traeger were on the left. Adams moved in on the right.
Jacobs squeezed off a shot from his rifle through the window just as Adams passed by. It clipped Adams in his side, knocking him from his horse before he fell with a hard thud to the ground. Jacobs took aim to fire off another shot if Adams got up, but he didn’t.
Kyle, standing guard at the rear, watched as Dwyer and Traeger approached. He squeezed off two shots from his rifle, both rounds missing just as Dwyer and Traeger withdrew their pistols. They both fired off the entirety of their rounds at Kyle. The bullets drilled holes into the wood above Kyle’s head and caused him to drop prone on the ground to avoid getting shot. Splinters of wood dispersed through the air as the smell of gun smoke began to fill the air around the cabin.
Up in front, David was repeatedly firing at Tucker, who ran for cover around the side of the house toward Adams’s position, making a dive for cover behind Adams’s fallen body. David tried to hit Tucker as he ran, but the bullets missed and drilled into the earth around Tucker and avoided him by mere millimeters. It seemed as if all the weight that Tucker had lost served to his advantage.
Tucker fired off three shots from his weapon at Jacobs. The rounds hit above Jacobs’ head in the window frame. He shrank, but replied by shooting off two more rounds at Tucker.
“Jacobs,” David said. “Everything okay?”
Jacobs kept firing. “Don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”
In Kyle’s position, Dwyer ordered Traeger to move back to the front. Kicking at the side of his horse, Dwyer fired at the house during his ride. The bullets tore through the wood, hitting furniture and some of the dishes in the kitchen. Traeger arrived in the front, pulled his rifle and fired at David’s position repeatedly. He fired off six shots, and the fifth managed to graze David’s forearm.
He fell to the floor, dropping his rifle as he clutched his wound. He then withdrew his six-shooter, firing it blindly through the space in between the wooden boards at Traeger, who attempted to flee. He was struck in the back and knocked off of his horse, falling to the ground, dead just like his friend Adams.
In the rear, Kyle continued to fire at Dwyer. One of the rounds hit Dwyer in the hand, forcing him to drop his gun to the ground.
“Tucker!” Dwyer yelled. “Retreat! I’m hit!”
Tucker grit his teeth. He looked to his left and saw that Traeger’s horse was still fumbling about. He fired for cover as he moved quickly to the horse, mounting it and following after Dwyer. Kyle and Jacobs left their positions to join David at the front, firing their weapons rapidly as the two riders departed from the scene, and then a silence settled heavily after the last shot went off.
Jacob, David, and Kyle looked on as Tucker and Dwyer fled. They still remained vigilant, their grips on their weapons strong as they waited for Tucker and Dwyer to completely disappear from site.
“I think they’re gone,” Jacobs said. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
“They’ll be back,” David replied. “Make no mistake about it.”
“Well, what should we do? They’ll just arrive with more reinforcements and we won’t be able to take them on if they do.”
David replied by gathering up his weapons and supplies. “Jacobs,” he said, fetch the
horses out back. We are going to take the fight to Tucker and Crane. I’m not wasting anymore time.”
Moments later, Jacob, David, and Kyle were on their horses. They rode quicker than they ever had before as they headed directly for Michael Crane’s residence to finally bring an end to the madness that had plagued Clarendon.
***
Sarah made out Tucker Willis shouting and pounding on the front door. Her heart pounded inside her chest as she looked out of her window and down onto the street. Sure enough, Tucker was there with the deputy named Dwyer alongside of him.
“Crane,” Tucker yelled out. “Let us in!”
Sarah could hear Crane cursing as he ran down the steps to the front door. Moments later, the door was open, and booted feet entered the house.
“He got the drop on us,” Tucker said. “We weren’t able to take care of Bryant or the men he had with him.”
“What are you talking about?” Crane asked. “This should have been an easy fix.”
“Well, we need more men,” Tucker said as he threw his hands up. As many as we can get.”
“It’s going to take some time,” Crane said. “You fool, how could you have not killed David Bryant with ease?”
Sarah held her hand up to her mouth. Oh goodness, David, she thought. Please let no harm befall you.
“Don’t you dare call me a fool,” Sarah heard Tucker say in a grave tone. “We need to finish this up and quick before the whole town starts to get wise.”
“Fine, fine,” Crane said. “I’ll fetch my weapons and go with you. We will shoot David Bryant in the middle of the street, if that’s what it takes.”
Sarah panicked. She felt like she needed to do something, and quickly. I can’t wait around here, she thought. I have to go help. I have to get out of here. Who knows what is going to happen!
Sarah looked around frantically for an exit. The door leading into her room, the only one there, was locked, so it wasn’t an option. She then looked toward the two windows in her room. It was the only way she knew she’d be able to escape but she was two stories up and she knew from the layout of the house that the only way she would be able to get out was if she hung from the window and dropped down.
Sarah moved to the window and opened it, peering over the sill and down onto the street. It was a drop of about ten feet, and she knew that Crane was betting she would never risk breaking her ankle or otherwise.
I have to leave, Sarah thought. I have to leave by the window and hope for the best.
She was nervous, knowing that if she climbed out and dropped down there was a good chance that she would hurt herself. Scanning the street around her, she looked for a soft spot to land. After a moment of looking, she spotted a patch of grass off to the right just below the second window.
Sarah moved to her right, quickly throwing open the window and looking down. I can make it, she thought. I can duck and roll. I might twist an ankle, but that’s the least of my worries.
“Did you hear that?” She could hear Crane’s voice saying downstairs. “What the heck is going on up there?”
Go, now, Sarah thought. Go, now!
She slipped out of the window carefully. Inch by inch, she held onto the windowsill and slowly lowered herself down. She could hear Crane and the others ascending the staircase quickly, and just as she heard the key inserted into the lock on the door, she closed her eyes, dropped down and fell onto the grass.
Sarah fell onto her side, the wind knocked out of her, causing her to see stars. She was in a daze for a moment. She could hear Crane shouting her name as she looked up to the window of her room. Crane and Tucker came into view, the two of them searching, and after a moment, they looked out the window and saw her lying on the ground.
“Sarah!” Crane said. “Don’t you dare move!”
Go, Sarah! Go!
She pushed off of the ground and began to run as fast as her feet could carry her. She had never breathed harder and heavier in her life as she made her way down the street. Other houses as expensive as Crane’s flanked her on either side. It was the wealthiest neighborhood in Clarendon, which sat on top of a hill looking down onto the rest of the city.
Sarah had no plan in mind. The only thing she could think of was running into the saloon and crying for help. She ran, and ran, and ran shouting out to the neighbors that she was in trouble, though to no avail as she made her way toward town. She made it about fifty paces before she could hear the beating of hooves on the ground coming toward her from behind. Still running, she cast a look over her shoulder and saw Tucker Willis approaching on his horse.
“Sarah, stop!” he called out. “I’m coming for you!”
Sarah felt her heart beating faster than it ever had in her life as she tried her best to flee. Tucker closed in on her. He was thirty feet away, then twenty, and then ten.
He’s just too fast, she thought.
There’s no way I’m going to outrun him.
Sarah quickly looked to her right for an exit and decided to go for the front porch of a neighbor’s house to cry for help, but just as she turned, Tucker Willis grabbed her and brought her to a stop. He than removed his six-shooter, cocked back the hammer, and aimed it at Sarah.
“Hello, Miss Harris,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sarah was shoved violently to the floor in the living room of Crane’s house. Tucker stood over her with a wide grin on his ghastly face, his gun still held in his hand. Crane approached, hands on his hips, fuming as the vein in his forehead stuck out.
“I never thought you would jump from that window,” he said. “Now I know better.”
“What should we do with her? Dwyer asked. “We don’t want her running again.”
“Tie her up,” Crane said. “Stuff her in my office and lock the door. I don’t want to see her again for the rest of the evening. I want to finish this, then I’ll deal with her.”
Dwyer complied, fetched some rope, and bound Sarah’s hands. He escorted her toward the back room. “Let’s go,” he said. “Get in there, now.”
Sarah was led to Crane’s office. Dwyer threw open the door and tossed her inside.
“Don’t you move. You’re in a lot of trouble.”
Sarah lay on the floor, shaking as the door was slammed shut and locked. She held her head in her hands, sobbing in fear that the worst was about to happen.
Please, she thought. Please tell me that David is going to save me. Please, David. I need you, now!
***
Crane was pacing as Dwyer entered the room. “This is bad,” Crane said. “David is going to show up any minute.”
“Then we’ll deal with him,” Tucker said. “We’ll just keep shooting until he’s filled with holes.”
“What about Adams and Traeger? What happened to them?”
“Dwyer shook his head. “They’re dead, Chief. Nothing we could do about it.”
Crane hissed through his teeth. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said. “But there’s no point in dwelling on it.”
Tucker waved Crane off. “There’s no point in me being here.” He moved toward the door. “I’m wasting my time. You’re a dead man.”
“Tucker, wait!”
“Forget it, Crane. There’s nothing you can offer me.”
“I’ll pay you twenty-thousand dollars,” Crane said.
“No,” Tucker replied as he rested his hand on the door handle.
Think, Michael! Crane thought. Give him something. “You can have my house,” he said. “You can have my woman!”
Tucker stopped in his tracks—then he slowly turned around and showed off a lecherous gaze. “That pretty young thing back there?” he said. “You’ll just … give her to me?”
Crane nodded. “Please. I need your help. Only someone as deadly as you can help me stop this man. “Take her. Take everything. I don’t care anymore.”
“Well, well, well,” Tucker said with a smile. “You’ll do just about anyth
ing to stop this Bryant fellow, won’t you?”
Crane looked Tucker dead in the eye. “Anything.”
Tucker stepped forward until he came toe-to-toe with Crane. “You’ll do as I say once we finish this,” he said. “You’ll give me anything and everything I want. Clarendon will be my playground, and you’ll have to give in to my every wish. That is my only deal.”
Crane stuck out his hand. “Then it’s a deal.”
Tucker slapped his hand away. “No handshakes,” he said. “Not anymore—I’m the only one in charge.” Crane nodded.
Saying nothing more, Crane, Tucker, and Dwyer retrieved their weapons and moved to the front of the house, ready to put David Bryant down and restore order to their corrupt little town. Even though Crane made the deal with Tucker—he knew he’d never abide by it.