Turnback Creek (Widowmaker) (20 page)

“W
hy’d they come back here?” Turpin asked aloud, staring at the two men next to the buckboard.

“There was nowhere else to go,” Hoke said. “Doubling back had to bring them here.”

“And maybe …” Rome said.

“Maybe what?” Hoke asked.

Rome hesitated, then said, “Maybe the payroll was still here all along.”

“What? Where?” Hoke demanded.

“In the water … maybe.”

“Wha—goddamnit!” Hoke took a deep breath. “Never mind. We’re here now, so are they, and so is the gold.”

“So, what do we do now?” Eli asked.

“We take it,” Hoke said.

Locke ran to the buckboard to grab his rifle and handgun. He strapped the belt on quickly, tossed Cooper his rifle, and picked up his own. Cooper came to join him by the buckboard.

“This is the only cover we have,” he said. “If they charge us, we can get several of them before they reach us.”

“If they charge us,” Locke said. “They have no cover where they are. Let’s see how they want to play it.”

“Let’s rush ’em,” Turpin said.

“Most of us would be dead before we reached them,” Rome said. “We have no cover.”

“Dismount,” Hoke said.

“What?”

“Dismount, now!”

All seven men dismounted.

“Keep the horses between them and us,” Hoke said, “until I decide what to do.”

“Good thinkin’,” Rome said. “What
are
we gonna do?”

Hoke took a moment, then said, “I’ll talk to them, give them a chance to walk away.”

“Why do that?” Eli asked. “Why don’t we just kill them?”

“They have cover,” Rome said. “We don’t.”

“They’ll kill you,” Eli said.

“They’ll listen,” Hoke said, taking out a white handkerchief.

“Damn it,” Cooper said. “They’re using their horses as cover.”

“We might be able to use that to our advantage,” Locke said, getting an idea.

“Like how?”

“Wait,” Locke said. “Somebody’s waving a white flag. They want to talk.”

“Locke! Cooper! I want to talk.”

“I should put a bullet in his—” Cooper started, but Locke cut him off.

“Let’s see what he has to say.”

“We could kill him.”

“That would only reduce the odds by one,” Locke said. “Let’s listen to what he has to say.”

“Fine,” Cooper said. To the man with the white flag, he shouted, “Go ahead and talk!”

The spokesman came out from behind the horses, still holding his white flag.

“That’s close enough,” Cooper said when the man got to within about fifty feet. “We can hear you fine.”

“My name’s Benson,” the man said. “Hoke Benson.”

“Never heard of you,” Cooper said.

“Don’t matter,” Hoke said. “I’m givin’ you both a chance to walk away and leave the gold.”

“No,” Cooper said.

“Don’t you want to discuss it?”

“There’s no need to discuss it,” Locke said. “We’re not walking away from the gold.”

Hoke stared at them, then shook his head. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

“That’s okay,” Cooper said.

“You’ll die,” the man said. “Both of you.”

“So will you,” Locke said. “Some of you.”

“But the survivors will get the gold,” Hoke said, “and that won’t be either of you.”

“Will it be you?” Cooper asked.

Hoke Benson said, “That’s the plan. That’s been the plan all along.”

“Do your men know that?” Locke asked.

“They know what I tell them.”

“What if we tell them your big plan?” Cooper asked.

“They won’t believe you.”

“You better go back to them, then,” Locke said, “and see if they’re willing to die so you can have the gold.”

“I gave you a chance,” Hoke said. “Nobody can say I didn’t. Think it over. I’ll come back in five minutes.”

Hoke turned and walked back to his men. Cooper was tempted to shoot him in the back, but he knew Locke would not go for that.

“So, what do we do now?” Cooper asked.

“Wait for him to come back, and then tell him no again.”

“And then what?”

“I’ve got an idea.”

Cooper looked at him. “What?”

Quickly, Locke explained what he had in mind.

“That’s not very fair,” Cooper finally said.

“I know.”

Cooper smiled. “I love it.”

“What’d they say?” Eli asked when Hoke returned.

“What I thought they’d say,” he answered. “No.”

“So, let’s take ’em.”

“No,” Hoke said. “I gave them five minutes to think it over.”

“Why?” Rome asked.

“The old man,” Hoke said. “He looks worn out. I think he’s the weak link. The job was his, and he brought Locke in on it, so I think he’s callin’ the shots.”

“And?” Rome asked.

“He might decide to walk away. Let’s wait and see.”

Hoke had no idea that he’d completely misread the entire situation.

Five minutes later, under the cover of the white flag, Hoke walked back out.

“No,” Cooper said.

“Pity,” Hoke replied, shaking his head. “You ol’ boys could have lived to a ripe old age.”

“What fun would that be?” Cooper asked.

“You knew we’d refuse, Benson,” Locke said. “This is all just an act for your men.”

Hoke’s smile broadened, and he said, “Smart Widow-maker.”

“Let’s kill him now,” Cooper said.

“Yes,” Locke said. “Let’s.”

“You can’t,” Hoke said, waving his white flag at them. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“I’d rather be unfair and alive,” Locke said, “than fair and dead. Wouldn’t you, Coop?”

“Definitely.”

“You … you wouldn’t …” Hoke said, realizing for the first time that he might have made a mistake. “You’re … you’re lawmen.”

“I don’t see any badges on our chests,” Locke said.

Hoke considered turning and running back to his men, but he knew he’d never make it. He had only one choice, and it was his own damn fault. He should have sent Rome out to talk to them.

He went for his gun, and both Locke and Cooper shot him.

J
esus!” Eli said. “They shot down Hoke!” “They’re crazy!” Bailey said.

“Bently and Sharp, the two newest men in the group, didn’t react as violently. They hadn’t known Hoke as long as Eli and Bailey.

“Damn,” Rome said, but mostly out of admiration for what the two men had done.

“Eddie,” Turpin said, “whadda we do?”

“Do we still want the gold?” Rome asked.

“I want it,” Turpin said.

Rome looked at Bently and Sharp. “You fellas?”

“Equal shares?” Bently asked.

“Equal.”

“We’re in,” Sharp said.

Now Rome looked at Eli and Bailey.

“I dunno …” Bailey said.

“Jeez,” Eli said. “They killed Hoke.” He was still in shock. After all, Hoke made all the decisions …

“You fellas can’t make up your own minds?” Rome said.

Both men just stared at him.

“Okay,” Rome said, ignoring them. “Let’s take ’em.”

“They’re startin’ to mount up,” Cooper said. “They’re gonna rush us.”

“Then let’s do it. The horses,” Locke said. He dropped into a crouch and raised his rifle. Cooper followed, and they started firing. At this range, they couldn’t miss something as big as a horse.

Of course, Locke’s idea was much more than just shooting Hoke Benson and the horses. The six men who were left were standing in the midst of seven animals weighing more than a thousand pounds each—and horses were skittish, didn’t like loud noises … like gunshots.

Firing into their midst would panic the heck out of them.

Eli and Bently started to mount, but before they could, hot lead struck both their horses, and the animals went down. Eli’s horse fell right on him, pinning him from the waist down. He screamed and thrashed about as the horse’s weight crushed his legs. As the two horses fell, a bullet smashed into Bailey’s chest, knocking him onto his back.

“Jesus!” Rome shouted, surprised by the attack. “Shoot back!”

The horses, smelling the two dead beasts and hearing the sound of the shots, began to panic. If the men had been able to get mounted, they still might have controlled their horses and rushed Locke and Cooper, but the two men never stopped firing, putting their pistols and extra guns to use as well, and the horses started to go mad. One horse kicked Eli in the head as he struggled beneath his animal, splitting his skull and, mercifully, killing him. That horse and another ran off. Bently was able to mount his horse, but his intention was to run, not fight. As he urged his horse in the opposite direction, the panicked animal stumbled and fell. Bently was thrown and landed with enough impact to break his neck.

Sharp and Rome were still fighting their horses, yanking on their reins, trying to get control, while another animal went down beneath the barrage of bullets. There was so much chaos that Locke and Cooper had time to reload, and they continued to fire while advancing on foot.

Rome saw the two men coming toward them, released his horse and went for his gun. At that moment, a bullet struck his hip, shattering it. He screamed and went down.

Sharp, seeing that he was the last man standing, released his horse, threw his hands into the air, and starting shouting, “Hey, hey, wait, wait, wait …”

Cooper shot him.

When they reached the fallen party, Locke checked the men and found all but Rome dead. He was amazed that he and Cooper had managed to kill only half of them, while the horses—driven mad by the noise, and the smell of blood and death—had done the rest.

Three horses were dead. He felt bad about that. The surviving animals had run off, and Rome was rolling around on the ground holding his hip. When he saw Locke and Cooper approaching him, he reached for his fallen gun, but Cooper stepped on his arm to stop him.

“Not fair …” he muttered, staring up at the two men.

“What did you think we would do?” Cooper asked. “Wait for you to rush us? Fight fair? The graveyards are full of men who fought fair.”

“W-White flag …”

“Fuck you and your white flag,” Cooper said, and shot the man in the head.

Cooper turned to face Locke. “I didn’t think you’d do it,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Shoot that man under a white flag.”

“Better that than die,” Locke said. “I’m no fool, Coop.”

“Obviously not,” Cooper said. “It was your idea to just start shootin’ into the horses. A damn good idea, too.”

“I figured they wouldn’t expect it,” Locke said. “I thought with them standing among all these horses, something had to happen. That’s a lot of horseflesh to be around when they’re flailing away in a panic.”

“Looks like they did most of our work for us,” Cooper said.

“You did the rest,” Locke said. “Shot that man when he had his hands in the air, and that one in cold blood while he was lying on the ground. You’ve changed a lot more than I ever thought a man could, Coop.”

“So have you, John,” Coop said. “There was a time you never would have shot a man under a white flag.”

“He made the first move,” Locke said. “He panicked and drew, because he thought we were going to kill him.”

“I was,” Cooper said. “Would you have shot him if he hadn’t gone for his gun?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

Cooper looked around at the dead men and horses. “I suppose you want to bury them?”

“No,” Locke said. “I guess they got what was coming to them.”

The ex-marshal looked up at the sky and said, “Guess there’s no point in movin’ on, then. Might as well camp here and get goin’ in the mornin’—if you don’t mind campin’ near all these bodies.”

“We’ll be gone before they start to stink,” Locke said. “But get going where, Coop?”

Cooper looked at him and said, “I guess we can decide that in the mornin’, can’t we, John?”

“I suppose we can.”

A
s it turned out, it didn’t do them much good to camp for the night, because neither man slept much. Locke was sad that he so distrusted Cooper that he couldn’t close his eyes. The man had changed that much, was no longer the man he knew.

In the morning, the sun came up, and they had some coffee before they decided where they were going. Mostly, the sun was still behind the clouds, so they had no way of knowing if there were any gold coins still at the bottom of the Devil’s Basin.

“You might have left a few,” Cooper said, looking down at the water. “We have time to—”

“I’m not going in there again,” Locke said. He could still feel the chill to his bones. “You can, if you want.”

“I’d drown.”

“If you waited long enough, you could probably wade out there.”

Cooper looked at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked. “Get the drop on me while I’m knee-deep in water?”

“Why would I want to do that, Coop?”

The other man didn’t answer, just kept looking down at the water. “Somebody’ll come along and think they got real lucky when it’s all dried out,” he said.

“They’ll never know how many men died up here for the gold, will they?” Locke asked.

“No,” Cooper said. “They won’t.”

“Will we, Coop?”

No answer.

“Will we know how many men died?”

Still no answer.

“Seven? Or eight?”

Cooper turned his head to look at him. “You think I’d kill you for this gold, John?”

“If I didn’t,” Locke said, “I would have got some sleep last night.”

“Would you kill me for it?” Cooper asked.

“No,” Locke said. “But I’m not going to let you have this gold, and since you’d kill me for it, I guess I’d have to kill you to keep you from killing me.”

Cooper took off his hat and scratched his head.

“That sounds mighty confusin’ to me, John,” he said. “Why don’t we just split the gold? You can even take your half to the mine. At least that way, we both stay alive, and the miners get some of their money.”

“Coop,” Locke said, “I’ll bet even if we did that, you’d double back here and wade out there to see if I left any coins.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No.”

“Well,” Cooper said, “I guess that’s the difference between you and me, John.”

“No,” Locke said. “The difference between us goes much deeper than that, Coop—much deeper.”

Cooper turned and walked back to the fire. He dumped the remnants of his coffee onto it, then poured the last of the pot over it, extinguishing it. Locke had his coffee cup in his left hand, so he simply stood there, holding it.

“John, I’m getting on that buckboard and leavin’ with the gold,” Cooper said. “There are a few loose horses up here, and you’ll probably find one of them. You’ll be fine.”

“I can’t let you do that, Coop.”

“You’re gonna have to kill me to stop me,” Cooper said. “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

“I’ll shoot you in the leg,” Locke said. “That’ll stop you.”

Cooper put the coffee pot down on the ground and turned to face Locke. “You ain’t gonna let this go, are ya?”

“No,” Locke said.

“Why do you care if these miners get paid or not?” Cooper asked. “Or if Molly Shillstone goes out of business?” “I don’t.”

“You know, she was workin’ with the sheriff to steal this gold,” Cooper said, “only I made him a better deal.”

“You could afford to make him a better deal,” Locke said. “You never intended to pay him. I don’t care about the miners, Coop, or the sheriff, or Molly. I care about me.”

“This ’cause I fooled you?” Cooper asked. “Used you? This about your ego, John?”

“This is about friendship, Coop,” Locke said. “I came all this way to help you because I thought we were friends—but the Dale Cooper I knew, he died a long time ago. So, if you draw on me, force me to kill you, I won’t really be killing him, will I?”

“You’ll be killin’ me, John,” Cooper said. “Me. I’m Dale Cooper. I’m the only Dale Cooper I can be at my age. And if I can’t be who I want to be, I guess I don’t care if I live or die.”

“Stop talking, Coop,” Locke said.

“You’re right,” Cooper said. “The time for talk is over.”

Cooper kicked the coffee pot toward Locke and drew his gun. Locke ignored the pot, and although Cooper had outdrawn him, the ex-marshal’s first shot went wide because he rushed it. It wasn’t the fastest one who won, Locke knew from experience—maybe he even learned it from Cooper—but the one whose first shot flew true.

And his did.