The Watch Man 1, page 17
Then he shoulder charged the saloon door and in a burst of broken wood and glass he burst through. Four men had made it inside with Kirk, he was sure. As he regained his balance he saw three of them grouped before the bar and obviously wondering what to do next.
Wade had no doubt.
With the Colt in one hand and swinging the sawn-off shotgun up from under his coat, he advanced on the pale and surprised faces. The men scattered, one of them managing to loose of a shot in Wade’s direction. Wade allowed the shotgun to do its works and with a bursting flash of fire he sent one of the hunters flying away to slam back against the bar counter. Coming on steadily, his six-shot picked off another one as he headed towards the rear of the room, the .45 slug slamming into the fellow’s back and sending him over in a flopping fall. The third man backed off in terror and raised both his hands in surrender.
‘Where’s Kirk?’ Wade barked.
The trembling man indicated the rear of the saloon with a jerk of the chin.
Wade felt the blow on his brow before he heard the shot; it slammed against him and sent his head and Derby hat spinning. Staggering sideways, Wade half turned and glimpsed the man behind an overturned table. Simultaneously, with one hand he fired the Colt in the shooter’s direction and with the other let off the remaining barrel of the shotgun towards the man with his hands raised. The shotgun blast hit the surrendered man who doubled over with a look of surprise and unabashed complaint on his face. The Colt’s bullet hit the sniper high in the chest and unwilling to fall he brushed aside the overturned table and came on determinately. Wade let the shotgun drop from his grasp and with two hands fanned the Colt sending three fast bullets into the shooter. The man’s limbs flew out in every direction as the bullets struck, shedding spits of blood and skin before he tottered away and dropped.
Without hesitation, Wade bolted for the rear of the saloon. Blood was pouring down the side of his face and he brushed it away irritably as he reached the end of the room and saw the back door swinging wide open. Wade paused and took stock as he began reloading the Colt from his ammunition belt. There was only intermittent shooting coming from outside and he hoped Lola had things under control out there as his only intention now was to find Kirk and kill him.
Wade heard the sound of galloping and he kicked open the door to see a rider in a blue jacket heading past. With a curse, Wade kicked the door wide and stepped outside to loose off two shots from his half filled Colt after the escaping rider. Kirk kept going, low in the saddle and driving the pony with spur and lashing rein.
At the run, Wade headed for the corral and his horse.
Chapter Twenty
His head ached and blood flowed into the corner of his eye from the head wound. Wade blinked and shook himself to keep alert and shed the dizziness that racked him. He fumbled at loading the saddle, his fingers feeling fat and stumbling as he buckled on bridle and rein and tightened the cinch.
Then he was in the saddle, only too conscious that his unsteady hands had given Kirk time to make distance and Wade hoped he was not too far behind the escaping gang leader.
As he rode, Wade’s thoughts went back to Justine. It was a long time past now but her vision still burned in his heart and he wondered if the ache would ever leave him for her and the rest of his family. The wind streamed past him as the horse stretched out at the run, he felt the tears streaming from his eyes and was not sure if it was for the remembered ruining body of his wife or the tearing wind watering them. Wade viciously pulled the painful memory into his mind to keep his intentions clear. He saw again the body of young Pablo, his blood and brains spread in a dripping circle on the wall. Of the little girl, Rosalia, lying curled on the floor where Easter, now named Kirk, had left her after crushing her tiny skull. The old mother, throat cut and staring at him with dead eyes from where she lay on the floor.
And Justine, tied off on the bed and stripped, her body violated by each of the hateful crew and then slashed to ribbons. The memory blew new life across the coals of Wade’s hate; a spot that even after the years still simmered and burned in his breast.
Ahead, in the distance he saw a small rise of dust and at its heart a tiny silhouette, black against the pale cloud.
Wade drove the horse hard until sweat lathered its flanks and foam ran in streams from its mouth. He was uncaring and hit the animal hard in his desperation to catch up with Kirk. The animal obediently raced on its breath roaring in its nostrils and sides heaving as Wade leaned eagerly forward across the horse’s neck almost as if he could reach out and claw back the figure racing ahead.
The gap closed.
Now Kirk was looking over his shoulder with some trepidation as he recognized the flapping duster and bloodstained avenger behind him.
Wade knew his pistol was empty and his rifle lost but as he neared he drew the short-barreled Colt from his shoulder holster. The range, he knew was probably too far but it was worth a chance. He leveled the pistol and fired. The miss was all too obvious as the gun smoke whipped past him. Kirk glanced around at the shot, fear and desperation written on his face. He unloaded a shot in Wade’s direction, it was impossible, twisting around as he was and on the bounding pony. The bullet whistled past, way off target.
Wade fired again and he was lucky.
It did not wound the pony but the almost expended bullet struck it hard on the rump and the animal swerved in shock. Kirk swayed outwards at the unexpected movement and the pony struggled hard to correct but Kirk’s top heavy weight pulled it over and in a raised burst of dust the pony fell. It’s legs kicked out as it rolled and it threw Kirk from the saddle in a tumble that sent him spinning away.
Wade sped in and in a sliding halt that dragged hard on the reins he pulled his nearly exhausted horse to a halt and leapt from the saddle. Running fast he came up on the stunned Kirk who was struggling to get to his feet. Swinging his boot, Wade kicked the revolver from Kirk’s hand and covered him with his own pistol.
‘Been a long time coming, Kirk, or should I say, Easter,’ panted Wade. Sweat and blood covered Wade’s face and yet Kirk saw the coldness that lit up Wade’s pale blue eyes under the mask.
‘You sure got a lot of hate for a man, ain’t you, Durance? All these years and all this distance and you still keep coming.’
‘When you lose what I did to rat scum like you and the others, it burns a hard part in a man.’
Kirk rolled onto his elbows and looked up at Wade, ‘So what do you aim to do? Shoot me? That ain’t going to bring your family back. They’re gone, gone for good and nothing you do will get that back, you poor fool. I got that over you, Durance. You ain’t ever going to own any of them again, they’re mine. You hear me, I own them all.’
‘No, its true I won’t see them again this side of Perdition,’ said Wade. ‘But I can sure make you suffer for what you did.’
‘So get it on,’ said Kirk, in a sudden burst of bravado. ‘Get it done and shoot me.’
‘Oh, I will,’ answered Wade and he pulled the trigger and blew out Kirk’s left knee.
Kirk screamed in agony and clutched at his leg. His face twisted in agony and he roared at Wade, ‘That the best you got, you soft bastard?’
Wade shot out his other knee and Kirk howled piteously.
‘You done?’ he gasped. ‘Is that it, you just going to leave me here with no legs, is that it?’
‘No legs,’ said Wade. ‘And no arms.’
He fired twice more and blew apart Kirk’s elbows. Only partly conscious and in serious amounts of agony, Kirk flopped on his back and looked up at Wade with pleading eyes.
Wade holstered his weapon and stared down at the shattered creature before him. Kirk lay there, his eyelids fluttering and lips working wordlessly.
‘Got one more thing for you,’ said Wade, drawing his knife from the belt at his waist.
‘No, no,’ begged Kirk in a husky voice that was barely audible.
‘Well, you like taking scalps, don’t you?’
‘Not that,’ screamed Kirk as Wade advanced on him.
Wade moved behind and grasped Kirk’s head of hair and yanked him upright into a sitting position.
‘I give you an hour, maybe less,’ Wade whispered in Kirk’s ear as he placed the sharp blade along the hairline. ‘Under the sun, with nothing on your head and not a leg to stand on or an arm to crawl with. Think on this whilst you’re dying, Kirk, was it all really worth it?’
Wade’s direction back was to Canton was guided by the blazing saloon’s pillar of smoke rising on the skyline. He walked the stumbling horse into the corral and set it standing beside the water trough and then fetched a bucket of grain for the creature.
‘Sorry, horse,’ he said, patting the animal’s flanks. ‘Sorry to drive you so hard but you sure did your part and we got there in the end.’
Gratefully the horse bowed its head and drank its fill.
‘What?’ said Lola, leaning over the corral rail. ‘You going all sensitive all of a sudden?’
Wade nodded slowly, ‘Don’t know about that. Maybe I never can be again.’
‘Looks like you busted your head.’
Wade fingered his brow, ‘It’s nothing. How we doing here, are we clear?’
‘A few of them made it away in one piece but most of them is laid out in the street. You get what you wanted, Wade?’
‘I don’t know,’ Wade answered, looking off into the distance of the way he had come.
‘But you got him, right? You brung down, Sam Kirk, yes?’
‘I did.’
‘Then we can get out of this rat hole now?’
Wade lifted his tired head and smiled at her thinly, ‘We can.’
‘Thank the Lord for that. Come on over here, we need to wash out that cut and get you bandaged.’
‘I lost my hat,’ said Wade as he wandered over.
‘Where’d it go?’
‘In there,’ Wade pointed at the still burning saloon.
‘Well, if its all true about the reward you’ll be getting, you can get another.’
Wade was too exhausted to clamber over the rail so he pushed the corral gate open and stepped over beside her, ‘I been meaning to talk to you about that.’
She eyed him suspiciously under an arched eyebrow, ‘What? You about to tell me there ain’t enough cash money to go around now?’
‘Oh, no. You’ll get your share but I’ve been wondering if you might enjoy this kind of work.’
Lola snorted, ‘Is that some kind of job offer?’
‘Maybe, well a sort of job….’
‘Think you can put up with a horny bitch with a glad eye and a good gun?’
‘Maybe just the gun.’
She roared a laugh, ‘We’ll I don’t know, hoss. We’ll see about that.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Shaved and tidy, Wade stepped into Flossy Dell’s Eating House early on the morning of his return to Carson Springs, much in the same manner as he always had before his departure. He was dressed again with the aspect of a watch repairer and with it had placed the mask of respectability about his shoulders. Once more he was the quiet and unassuming small town tradesman with a low profile and mild manner ready to start his day in the sleepy backwater town.
‘How’s your, ma?’ Flossy asked him, in a tone rather abrupt, Wade thought.
‘Still pretty bad,’ allowed Wade, sitting himself at his accustomed table. ‘But a tad better when I left her.’
Flossy was studying him carefully.
‘What is it?’ Wade asked quizzically, glancing around at the other customers who were studiously ignoring him, but that was much the same as they always did. ‘Something wrong?’
There was the vein of an indeterminate stillness in the air that Wade did not quite recognize but he was sure it was centered around him.
‘No, nothing,’ Flossy answered, then, a touch brusquely. ‘The usual?’
‘Sure, what else do I ever have?’
‘Right,’ she said, turning away briskly and heading for the kitchen.
Wade wondered what the hell was going on, this was most unlike Flossy. Usually she was cheery and maternal and not at all like this sternly cold creature. It troubled Wade and he wondered if there was some kind of problem in Flossy’s private life that was bothering her.
When she returned with his breakfast he asked, ‘Everything okay, Flossy? Something I can do?’
She set his plate down with carefully attention, again an unusual event, ‘Not a thing, Wade. Not a thing.’
Still troubled, Wade finished up and left to stroll down the street to his shop and open up.
The first thing he came across along the way was a gaggle of early rising womenfolk, who saw him coming and promptly turned away to intently study the contents of a shop window.
‘Morning, ladies,’ said Wade, tipping his hat.
Wade was ignored and there was only a muttering amongst the women as they continued to be solely interested in a stovepipe hat that was on display. Although for the life of him Wade could not see how a stovepipe hat could interest a party of housewives.
With a shrug Wade moved on, passing the other shopkeepers on Main Street. Some hurried inside at his approach and others muttered unintelligibly in answer to his greeting. Old Bart Munser, who was always about with his switch broom, sweeping out the sidewalk and checking up on everybody’s activities, was not there, only his broom rested against the open shop door but the man himself was nowhere to be seen.
This is distinctly odd, Wade considered, as he unlocked the door of his store and hung the ‘open’ sign.
The air inside was stale and deathly silent as the clocks had all run down. Wade opened the shop door to allow some fresh air inside and set about winding the clocks and setting the time. He was so engaged when a soft voice behind him said, ‘How are you, Mister Durance?’
Wade turned to see the tall figure of Emily Black standing in the doorway. She appeared her usual self, dressed all in black with her feathered bonnet on her head but there was a knowing look on her face.
‘Mrs. Black!’ Wade burst out. ‘What the devil is going on? I’m just in and being treated like some kind of pariah by everybody.’
‘Ah,’ said Emily, brushing inside. ‘It seems we have a problem.’
‘What? What has happened?’
She stood with her reticule clasped before her in both hands and eyed him sternly, ‘It would appear that on your departure you took a ride with young Miss Polenta, the one they call ‘Pretty Pol’, is that not so?’
‘Yes, indeed. The quickest way to Boone City.’
‘To carry out your task with all speed, no doubt?’
‘That is correct.’
‘And you ran into a spot of bother on the way.’
‘True, some road agents sought to give us trouble.’
‘And they were seen off with your, um…. usual efficiency.’
The picture was starting to become clearer, ‘She talked. Good heavens! I warned the girl to say nothing.’
Emily cocked a sad eye and shook her head, ‘Unfortunately she did not heed your warning. It was the talk of the town for quite some time, I fear. Three men slaughtered and left out on the highway, bound to be of interest in a small place like this, wouldn’t you say?’
Wade ground his teeth in irritation, ‘I shall have to go visit that young missy.’
‘Taken care of already, I’ve seen to it myself. But, my dear Mister Durance, it places us in a very difficult situation.’
Wade pouted curiously, ‘You’ve seen to it…. what does that mean?’
Emily looked past him towards the open door, ‘Close it,’ she said with an imperious jerk of her lantern jaw. Obediently, Wade closed the shop door.
‘She told everything?’ he asked.
Emily huffed a soft laugh; ‘It was hardly a discreet little exploit, now was it?’
‘It was us or them,’ Wade excused his actions. ‘And their behavior sought to impede my mission.’
‘Perhaps a lighter hand might have been called for but no matter. You have successfully completed your mission?’
‘I have but you did not answer, Mrs. Black. How is the girl ‘taken care of’?’
Again Emily looked away with a distant look in her eye, ‘A pity really, such a bright little thing, a mite rough around the edges but under the rowdy exterior quite as lovely as a poem. Once word got about of your exploits I went calling on her on a regular basis, the poor child was quite lonely really and it was easy enough to inveigle myself into her company.’
‘Was that wise?’
‘I have to admit it was really quite a pleasure. You know my predilection’s, Mister Durance; I cannot resist an enticing form of either gender. Soon we were lovers and she became rather enamored of me, it is a skill I have, and to educate the uninitiated is a rare delight.’
Wade pulled a bemused face, ‘You became lovers?’
‘Indeed,’ Emily mused, smiling at the memory. ‘It was necessary to get close to the girl. We could not have her blabbing about your true identity to the entire County, if word should reach that far there would be a world of trouble. Some people we would prefer not to know would become curious as to your activities. But it does mean we shall have to move on, I’m afraid.’
‘And you did what to her?’
‘The pig trough,’ Emily replied blandly. ‘It was quite deep and full of swill, it appeared that Pretty Miss Pol slipped, banged her head and ended up face down inside. She did not survive I’m sorry to say.’
Wade studied Emily with renewed wonder, ‘I am amazed, Mrs. Black!’
‘Like you, if the occasion arises I too can be a dab hand at doing the necessary, Mister Durance. My time with the Agency called for it now and then and I became quite adept I must confess.’
‘So you think we should move away from here?’
‘I do and promptly. We need to leave these people here speculating; right now, they believe you are either an outlaw hiding out or some lawman that has had enough of his trade. Let them keep surmising as we move on.’
