Death in the Desert (12 page)

Clint found his way back to the store and crouched behind the counter with Kathy and Emily.

“Well?” Kathy asked.

“We can't get out the front,” he said. “They'll see us. And there are two men in the back.”

“So what do we do?”

“I may have to step out the back and take care of those two, but they'll hear the shots out front. We'd have to make a run for it.”

“We could do that,” she said, “but can't we climb out a first-floor window? That'd be easier than what we just did.”

“We could,” Clint said, “but there are no windows on either side. We'll have to go out the back.”

“And kill those men.”

“Yes.”

“And then run.”

“Yes,” he said, “but where to? We don't want to get caught out in the open. You two know the town better than I do.”

“Well,” Kathy said, “there are a lot of places in this part of town that we can hide.”

“Good,” Clint said, “that's what the two of you are going to do. Run and hide.”

“What about you?”

“I'm going the other way,” he said. “We need those horses, and maybe I can get rid of a few more men.”

“But . . . there are so many of them.”

“That's why we've got to get rid of some,” Clint said. “I need to get the odds more in my favor.”

“Well, I'll tell you where we're going to hide—”

“No,” he said, “Don't. Just in case something goes wrong, I don't want to know.”

“You're afraid if they catch you, they'll make you tell.”

“I don't think they could make me tell,” he said, “but you never know. So it's better if I really don't know.”

“You're going to get killed,” Kathy said, raising her voice.

“I don't want you to get killed!” Emily shouted.

“Shhh,” Clint said, “keep your voices down. I'm not going to get killed, Emily. I'm going to get Eclipse, and the other horse, and we're leaving town.”

“What about your being sick?”

“If I haven't gotten sick by now, I'm probably okay,” he reasoned. “At least, I hope so.”

“Okay, so when do we do this?”

“Well,” he said, “now is as good a time as any.”

Several men came walking up the street toward Steve and Ned, led by Joe Seymour.

“What's goin' on?” Steve asked. “Finished already?”

“Almost done,” Seymour said, “I left a couple of the boys there to wrap everything up.”

Seymour had two men with him, and they had two in the back. That made seven. Seven against one—the one being the Gunsmith.

“Maybe,” he said, “we'll wait for the other two—” He stopped when he heard the shots.

Clint said, “When I open the door and step out, you come out behind me and start running. Don't stop, and don't turn around to look.”

“Okay.”

“Emily? You keep running, you hear?”

“I hear.”

“Okay.”

Clint walked to the back door and took a breath. He opened it and stepped out.

“Go!” he hissed.

They came out behind him and started to run.

One of the two men behind city hall saw them and yelled, “Hey!”

The other men looked, and they both went for their guns.

Clint drew and fired twice.

“What the hell—” Ned said.

“Behind the building,” Steve said. “Let's go!”

Clint froze as the two men fell.

The others would be coming up the alley, so he couldn't go that way. And if he turned to run after Kathy and Emily, they might spot him and follow. He wanted to keep them well away from the girls.

His only option was that small space between city hall and the dress shop, not exactly an alley. In fact, barely wide enough for him to get through. If they caught him in there, he'd be a sitting duck.

If they looked there.

He ran to the narrow opening and had to turn sideways to fit. He holstered his gun and slid in, began making his way along toward the front, hoping to get there before anyone looked for him in that tight space.

Steve ran up the alley with Ned, Joe Seymour, and the others behind him. They stopped when they saw the two dead men behind the building.

“Check that back door!” Steve said.

Ned ran over and tried it.

“Locked! How'd they get out?”

“Maybe Adams got out, but the other two might still be inside,” Steve said. “Check down there.” He pointed the way Kathy and Emily had run, already well out of sight.

Seymour and one of the other men ran that way, while Steve joined Ned at the door. The other man checked the bodies to make sure they were dead.

“They dead?” Steve asked.

“Yup,” the man said, “one shot each.”

Steve tried the door again. It moved, then stopped.

“It's not locked,” he said. “It's blocked. The two of you, put your shoulders to it. Get it open.”

Ned and the other man obeyed. They slammed their shoulders into the door until wood splintered and the door opened.

Steve stepped inside, saw the shattered piece of furniture that had been blocking it.

“All right,” he said, “search the building.”

Ned and the other man went inside while Steve waited where he was. Just in case Adams was inside, he didn't want to walk into a bullet. He also wanted to wait for Seymour and the other man to come back.

That was when he noticed the gap between city hall and the building to its right.

Clint kept moving as quickly as he could, but it seemed to him like he was crawling. He was actually shuffling his feet, alternately scraping his back and front against the walls.

And he'd made a mistake. He had holstered his gun, and then slid between the buildings with his right side first. If someone spotted him, he would be hard pressed to get his gun out and pointed back there. He'd trapped himself into an untenable position, if he was caught.

He continued to shuffle as quickly as he could.

Steve frowned. It wasn't an alley, really, just a space between buildings. He assumed it went all the way through, though. Would Adams be dumb enough to get himself trapped in there?

He left the doorway and walked over to have a look.

Clint reached the front of the buildings, stepped out into the street, and quickly looked back. He saw a shadow and ducked out of the way. At the same time he looked around to see if any of the men had been left in front. There was no one.

He ran for the front door of city hall. Before going up with Kathy and Emily, he'd run down and unlocked the front doors. Now he opened them and stepped back into city hall. He immediately went to the courtroom, where he'd stashed both Eclipse and the other horse. He had to get them outside where he could run with them.

Steve peered into the slim aperture between the buildings, was able to see all the way through to the front. There was nobody in the way. He turned as he heard two men running back to him.

“Didn't see nobody,” Seymour said.

“Did you check some of the buildings?”

“Yeah. Some were locked, others weren't. We went inside, and looked in windows, but didn't see anybody.”

“Can either one of you track?”

Both men just stared at him.

“Never mind. Get inside and help Ned search the building.”

“Right,” Seymour said. The two men entered the building.

“Check downstairs,” Ned told the man with him. They had gone up the back stairs to the second floor, Ned wanting to check the window Adams and the woman had been using.

The other man—Rafe—nodded, and headed for the front steps.

As Clint came out of the courtroom with Eclipse and the other horse, Rafe appeared on the stairway. The two men stared at each other for a split second, and then Rafe made a panicked grab for his gun. Clint drew and cleanly shot the man in the chest. As the man tumbled down the steps, Clint quickly walked the two horses out the front doorway.

Ned heard the shot from the room upstairs.

Seymour and the man with him—Dylan—heard the shot before they started up the back stairs. They reversed their direction and rushed to the front hall. Rafe had come to a stop at the bottom of the steps.

“He's dead,” Seymour said, looking at the open front doors. “Dylan, check outside.”

Dylan hesitated.

“I ain't stickin' my head out there,” he said. “That's the Gunsmith. What if he's waitin'?”

“He's probably runnin',” Seymour said. “Go ahead and look!”

Dylan moved slowly to the front door then reluctantly stuck his head out. He heaved a sigh when he saw nothing.

“Nobody there!” he said as Steve Harwick came running into the hall.

“What happened?” He looked down at Rafe. Ned appeared at the top of the steps at that point.

“There's an open window up here,” he said. “Looks like they jumped onto the roof next door.”

Steve closed his eyes. He'd discounted the roof, since city hall was the tallest building in town. It didn't occur to him they'd go out a window above the first floor.

Damn it!

Clint quickly mounted Eclipse when he got outside, and led the other horse around the first corner and out of sight. He hoped he was going the right way. Considering the direction Kathy and Emily had run, he hoped they were hiding in one of these empty buildings, and would be able to see him riding in the street.

If they were inside and hiding under a desk or a counter, they wouldn't see him at all—and he dared not call out.

And he couldn't ride out in the open for very long. Steve or one of his men might spot him. His eyes kept scanning the storefronts, hoping to spot them looking out the window, so when Emily ran out at him from his left when he was looking right, he was surprised.

“Clint!” She reached him and hung on to his leg. “You're not shot!”

“No, I'm not.” He reached down for her and lifted her up into the saddle in front of him, not behind. He wanted to be able to shield her if lead started flying, not the other way around.

Kathy came trotting out of the same store and said, “You're safe.”

“Yes,” he said. “Get mounted, quickly.”

She lifted her skirts and quickly scrambled into the saddle of the other horse.

“Now let's get out of here,” he said.

They rode out of town, leaving the disease and the killers behind, but they went barely a couple of miles when Kathy reined her horse in.

“Wait,” she said.

“What's wrong?”

“We can't do this,” she said.

“Why not?”

“We're leaving them alone to loot the entire town at will,” she said.

“What can we do?” he asked. “Or rather what can I do, because that's what you mean, right? That I can't do this?”

“If it wasn't for us,” she said, “if you weren't trying to keep us safe, wouldn't you try to stop them?”

“No,” he said. “There's too many of them, and the town has been abandoned.”

“I don't believe you,” she said. “How many of them have you killed already?”

“Three or four.”

“Four,” she said. “There are seven left.”

“See, that's what I mean,” he told her. “I'm pretty badly outnumbered.”

“But you have an advantage.”

“Explain that to me.”

“They don't know where you are,” she said. “They might even been thinking that you left town.”

“I did,” Clint said. “They're probably already driving out of town with their loot.”

“Then you can track them,” she said, “see where they go, and then turn them over to the law.”

He remained silent, because he hated to admit that made any sense.

“And maybe you can find where the rest of the townspeople went,” she added. “Including Emily's parents.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Emily and I will ride to the nearest town, just as you planned. What did you say the name was?”

“Givens.”

“Right. And when we get there, I'll talk to the law. I'll get them to send out some help for you.”

Clint hesitated.

“Let me have Emily,” she said, bringing her horse closer to his. “And I have my rifle. I'll take care of her.”

Reluctantly, he lifted Emily and handed her over to Kathy, who settled the girl in front of her.

“Are you gonna find my mommy and daddy, Clint?” she asked, looking at him with big, wide eyes.

Damn it, that just wasn't fair, he thought. With that look on her face, how could he tell her no?

“I guess I am, little one.”

“Should we keep lookin' for him?” Ned asked Steve.

“Let's get everything loaded up, and I'll think about it,” Steve told him.

They left the dead men where they lay and returned to the stockyards. The loot was almost all loaded up. Two of the buckboards had been covered with a tied-down tarp, and the other two were almost ready.

“We got everything on four wagons?” Steve asked.

“That happens when you know how to load a wagon,” one of the men said proudly.

“Hey,” the other man said, “where are—”

“Dead,” Steve said, cutting him off. “You wanna complain about getting a bigger cut?”

“Not me,” the man said.

Steve said to Ned, “Help them get that last wagon tied down.”

“Yeah, okay.”

While they loaded the last wagon, Steve gave the situation some thought. Now that they had let Adams get out of city hall with the woman and the child, they could have been anywhere. To start searching the town again would be a fruitless waste of time.

No, as soon as they had things ready, they were getting out. Let Adams have the abandoned town for as long as he wanted, and let Brock handle the fallout.

Stuart Brock was killing time waiting for his men to arrive with the loot by sampling the whores that the town of Givens had to offer.

One of the whores had said to him, “Ain't it odd that a doctor likes whores? Ain't you worried about diseases?”

That had earned her a slap across the face, after which he'd had her thrown out by Hale without paying her.

This whore had apparently learned from the others. She hardly spoke, and went about her business with a certain amount of enthusiasm.

She was long and lean, with flat breasts but lovely nipples, which suited him. She was crouched over him now, sucking his stiff penis, going at it like a mule to a salt lick. It was lucky for her that she had spoken to all the other girls who had been with Brock, so that she pretty much knew what he liked.

She sucked him noisily, which Amanda had told her he liked, and made sounds like “mmm,” and “ummmm,” which she had learned from Denise, who apparently had not made enough noise.

And when he abruptly flipped her onto her back and bulled his way into her, she gasped (thanks, Betty), wrapped her legs around his waist (Samantha), and urged him to fuck her harder (thanks to Georgia).

She thought she was doing pretty good, and had to admit that the man had a lot of stamina, which suited her just fine. She was one of the older whores, but rather than being tired of the business, she still enjoyed a good fucking.

Daniel Hale stood outside his boss's door and listened to him go at it with the old whore. Hale was the one who had to bring the girls to Brock, and there were a few he'd preferred to this one—usually younger and with more in the way of meat on their bones. But he knew his boss was particular about his whores. Hell, he was particular about everything. Except maybe the men he hired.

Hale never liked Steve Harwick, and didn't agree with Brock's decision to let the man head up the Medicine Bow job. But there was no way he could have ever told Brock that. Not without losing his job for questioning the man.

So he just stood and waited for the man to finish and call for him. He might be called upon to escort the woman from the property—with or without pay—or to take some time off, meaning Brock would be keeping the woman with him for a while. In that case he'd go out onto the porch to wait and watch for Harwick and the others.

But that was what Daniel Hale did best—watch and wait.

“Are we ready?” Steve Harwick asked.

Ned looked behind them at the four wagons, and the mounted men. They had some extra horses thanks to the men Clint Adams had killed, and they were simply tied to the last wagon, like a remuda.

“All right,” Steve said. “Let's go. We're done here.”

Clint watched as the column of four wagons and seven men left Medicine Bow. He had two choices. Hit-and-run—that is, kill one or two, run for it, then follow them again, and hit them again. Or he could simply follow them to where they were going and find out who they were working for—because he doubted this fellow Steve was the mastermind behind this.

He followed along behind them, running the whole thing over in his mind. Who would have planned such a thing, to take advantage of an epidemic disease in order to rape a whole town?

“It's gonna take us two days,” Steve said to Ned. “I want you to ride on ahead and tell the boss we're comin'. You'll be able to make it by tonight.”

“I can do that,” Ned said, “but what about Adams?”

“Adams is still hidin' out with the woman and the child,” Steve said. “And even if he does come after us, there are six of us. Out in the open, he won't have a chance.”

“I hope not,” Ned said.

“Just ride on ahead,” Steve said. “Tell Dr. Brock we're comin'.”

“Okay,” Ned said. “You're the boss.”

“Right,” Steve said. “I am.”

As Ned rode off, Seymour rode up alongside Steve and asked, “Where's he off to?”

“To let Brock know we're coming.”

“You know, that's the one thing I can't figure in all this,” Seymour said.

“What's that?”

“A doctor plannin' the whole thing,” Seymour said. “Ain't they supposed to be . . . well, good?”

“Doctors are men, too,” Steve said. “This one decided to make himself some money.”

“How much you think all this stuff is worth?” Seymour asked.

“I think it's all worth somethin' because there's so much of it,” Steve said. “We did find some cash—a lot of cash, as a matter of fact—and some good furniture. All in all, it's a good haul.”

“You ever done one like this before?” Seymour asked. “A job like this, I mean? Takin' a whole town?”

“Never before,” Steve said, “but then I never threw in with a doctor before. A doctor with a plan.”

“Well,” Seymour said, “thanks for bringin' me in on it, Steve.”

“I needed men I could count on, Joe.”

Seymour nodded, dropped back to ride alongside one of the wagons.

Clint saw Ned ride on ahead of the column and made the immediate decision to follow him. The only reason he could see for Ned to ride ahead would be to tell someone—report to someone—that the rest of them were on their way. That meant Ned was on his way to talk to the boss. However, if Clint was wrong, if Ned was simply riding to the next town to have a drink in a saloon, Clint could confront him and make him talk. He'd know who planned the robbery of a whole town, and where the townspeople all went.

And find Emily's parents.