The Gallows Gang (10 page)

Nathaniel stood at the back of the group of men around the gallows with Shackleton and Elwood guarding him, while Mayor Maxwell and Governor Stuart were busily discussing Javier Rodriguez and his impending demise.

Kurt was trying to get a word in to mention that there would be only one person getting on the gallows. Nathaniel could do nothing but hope that Maxwell’s good mood meant he would be willing to listen to sense.

Nathaniel was doing his best to avoid looking at the noose. So he was the only one looking down the road when a wagon emerged from the edge of town, then came hurtling towards them, taking a reckless path that scattered people before it.

‘What in tarnation is the damn fool doing?’ Maxwell demanded when the rising hubbub drew his attention, but his men had already provided their own answer as they closed ranks around Javier Rodriguez.

Whether Javier had been the man’s target or not Nathaniel couldn’t tell, but the volume of people in front of the driver made him veer away. Then he set a course towards the bank at the opposite end of town.

As the wagon turned, Nathaniel got a clear view of the driver.

‘Turner Jackson,’ he muttered. He looked at Shackleton, who held his hands high, releasing him.

‘Let’s get him this time,’ Shackleton said, ‘together.’

‘Obliged,’ Nathaniel said, then set off.

He’d managed only a few paces before someone shouted out that their prisoner was getting away. Orders ripped out to cut him off.

Two guards moved in from either side, but Shackleton stopped and remonstrated with them. Then Elwood and Kurt stepped forward, but by then Nathaniel had barged his way free of the milling people.

Turner was heading the wagon down the road fifty yards ahead of him and so Nathaniel looked for a free horse. He couldn’t see one, so he had no choice but to break into a run. He’d covered only a few paces before pounding footfalls sounded. Then a man ran into him, knocking him to the ground.

He rolled and came up facing his assailant, then shoved him away. Behind the man others were moving to recapture him but Kurt and Elwood were taking them on and blocking their route.

Shackleton advanced on Nathaniel’s assailant and
slapped a hand on his shoulder, then swung him round and grounded him with an uppercut to the chin. Even before he’d hit the ground another man leapt on Shackleton’s back and wrestled him to the ground.

Shackleton fought his way out of the man’s grip for a moment. With his free hand he drew his gun and underhanded it to Nathaniel.

‘Get him,’ he shouted, then threw the man off his back. He swung round to take on the next two men trying to run Nathaniel down.

Nathaniel turned to find the delay had let Turner get further away from him. He was now over one hundred yards down the road. With a forlorn feeling overcoming him, he sprinted after his quarry, seeing him get further away with every pace he took. Nathaniel followed, hoping that maybe Turner would turn or slow down so that he could get a clear shot at him.

The last building to pass before Turner reached the bank was the church. He swung the wagon to the side, passing close by it as he started a wide turn. The movement slowed the wagon down, cheering Nathaniel into running faster.

Then he saw that someone was on the church roof. The tall figure emerged over the ridge, then strode down at speed without care for his safety.

‘The Preacher,’ Nathaniel murmured to himself.

The Preacher reached the edge of the roof just as Turner passed beneath him. Without breaking his stride he stepped off the roof.

Below, Turner flinched, catching sight of The Preacher’s shadow at the last moment, but by then The Preacher had landed on the back of the wagon. He bent his knees to steady himself, then lunged forward. He grabbed Turner around the neck and tugged backwards.

The reins slipped from Turner’s grip and the already slowing wagon slewed across the road before halting. Heartened now, Nathaniel hurried on, seeing The Preacher and Turner struggling.

The Preacher kept Turner sitting forward while he stayed behind him, trying to pull him into the back of the wagon, but Turner tore himself free, then moved for his gun.

Nathaniel skidded to a halt, took aim past the figure of The Preacher, then fired. He only had the side of Turner’s body to aim at but his shot ripped into Turner’s shoulder, knocking him from view.

The Preacher swung over into the seat, then bore down on Turner’s body as Nathaniel broke into a run, pounding across the ground over the last twenty yards. He slipped around the side of the wagon.

As it had come to a halt lengthways across the road, he could see that the guards had broken away from his helpers and were now running down the road towards him.

Then he looked to the wagon where, one-handed, Turner was keeping The Preacher off him. The Preacher was now clawing for the reins and that gave Turner enough leeway to push him away. He still had a hold of his gun and he swung it round, aiming to
shoot The Preacher in the side, but Nathaniel halted him with a strident cry.

‘Don’t shoot or you’re a dead man,’ he demanded.

Turner looked to the side to consider Nathaniel and shook his head.

‘You won’t shoot me. I’m the only person who can let you escape the gallows.’ He glanced down the road. ‘And I reckon you’ll be getting escorted there any second now.’

From the corner of his eye, Nathaniel saw the mayor’s men hurrying towards him, now just thirty yards away. He also heard the fateful fizzing noise he’d heard a week ago back in the cage. That led him to look at the crates on the back of the wagon and the wording on the side of the nearest crate drew his eye….

‘You got plenty wrong, Turner,’ he said.

He fired, blasting Turner between the eyes and kicking him out of his seat. Then he jumped on to the wagon to join The Preacher.

‘Let’s get this wagon out of town,’ he shouted.

The Preacher wasted no time in getting a firm grip of the reins. While he shook them, getting the wagon moving, Nathaniel swung round in his seat to face the advancing pursuers.

‘Get back!’ he shouted. ‘The wagon’s loaded down with dynamite, and it’s going to blow at any moment.’

Half the men stopped. The other half carried on running, then slowed to a halt when they got close
enough to see the wording on the crates.

When Nathaniel turned, they were swinging past the bank as The Preacher headed the wagon towards the edge of town. A few people were ahead of them, but the cries of alarm coming from behind the wagon was encouraging them to scurry into hiding.

‘How long do you reckon we’ve got before this wagon blows sky high?’ Nathaniel asked.

‘In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,’ The Preacher said.

‘That soon,’ Nathaniel murmured, remembering the last time he’d heard this quote.

‘The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep.’

Nathaniel grabbed The Preacher’s shoulder.

‘This is far enough. We have to jump.’

The Preacher ignored him. ‘The Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said …’

The Preacher released a hand from the reins and shoved Nathaniel’s shoulder, tipping him backwards from the seat.

Nathaniel rolled once, then hit the ground. He moved to get up, seeing the wagon now trundling beyond the edge of town, The Preacher riding it off into clear space.

Over the rattling of the wagon wheels Nathaniel heard The Preacher shout out.

‘Let there be light!’ he cried, raising his hands to the heavens.

Then Nathaniel just had time to turn his back before the dynamite exploded.

Nathaniel dropped to the ground, his hands rising to cover his head as wood and stones hurtled by him. Long moments passed while Nathaniel could only wait. Then all he could do was stand and turn and hope that maybe The Preacher had leapt clear. But there was no sign of him.

‘And there was light,’ Nathaniel said, making his slow way towards the smoking crater.

‘And so,’ Judge Matthews said, summing up, ‘I now have a decision to make as to your fate, Nathaniel McBain. On the one hand you had a key role in bringing Javier Rodriguez to justice and you saved many lives when you took the dynamite out of town. On the other hand I convicted you for killing Ramsey Carr, and you were implicated in the deaths of four innocent people at Wilson’s Crossing. What have you got to say about that?’

‘If I could have avoided killing Turner Jackson so that he could talk I would have,’ Nathaniel said, ‘but as I had to save lives, I had no choice. That means I can’t prove anything about Ramsey Carr now. As for what happened at Wilson’s Crossing: I feel sorry for those people, but The Preacher did that and as you saw, he was an odd man seeking salvation in a misguided way.’

‘That is one way of looking at it, but I agree that The Preacher was to blame, not you.’ Judge Matthews reached over for a sheet of paper. ‘And it
appears I have some useful new information about Turner’s role in the murder of Ramsey Carr. Marshal Kurt McLynn overheard you speaking with Turner in Chancer’s Pass and he heard Turner say, and I quote: “I killed Ramsey Carr and nobody but you knows that. I laugh when I think about how you, an
innocent
man, will go to the gallows for something that I, and only I, did.” An interesting speech for him to make, I’m sure you’ll agree, when he was fighting for his life in the middle of an ambush.’

Judge Matthews paused while subdued coughing echoed around the courtroom, then looked across the room at Kurt, who was wisely looking elsewhere.

‘And so,’ Judge Matthews continued, ‘it would appear that based on everything I have heard I must reconsider my earlier judgement.’

‘Thank you,’ Nathaniel said, then gulped with relief.

‘But I am also mindful of the fact that I could be wrong again. So my judgement is that I will send you back to Beaver Ridge and delay your appointment with the gallows for a year and a day. If in that time you act responsibly, you will be a free man.’

Judge Matthews raised his eyebrows, inviting Nathaniel to speak.

‘I accept your judgement,’ Nathaniel said, ‘but plenty of prisoners think I sold them out in Beaver Ridge. It might be better for everyone’s sake to send me somewhere else.’

‘That isn’t possible. It is an essential requirement of your sentence that you will go to Beaver Ridge,
then come back here.’ The judge waved his hand back and forth. ‘Then go back to Beaver Ridge, then go to—’

‘I don’t understand.’

Judge Matthews smiled as he peered at him.

‘Shackleton Frost has offered to oversee the final stages of your rehabilitation and make sure you are a changed man. He lost a good man back in Devil’s Canyon and he has kindly agreed that you should take over that man’s duties. Of course if you would prefer to go back to jail instead of escorting
prisoners
….’

‘No,’ Nathaniel blurted. ‘That kind of work sounds just fine.’

He looked over towards Shackleton, then Kurt. He smiled before turning back to face the judge.

‘May the grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people,’ Judge Matthews said as he raised his gavel to commit him to being a free man.

Nathaniel nodded. ‘Revelation twenty-two, verse twenty-one.’

The Outlawed Deputy

The Last Rider from Hell

Death or Bounty

Bad Day in Dirtwood

Devine’s Law

Yates’s Dilemma

The Ten Per Cent Gang

Mendosa’s Gun-runners

Wanted: McBain

Six-shooter Bride

Dead by Sundown

Calhoun’s Bounty

Calloway’s Crossing

Bad Moon over Devil’s Ridge

Massacre at Bluff Point