Stranglehold

by William W. Johnstone

  Immediately following McGill’s report came the sound of more bursting bombs.

  “Are there any cellars in town?” Duff asked McGregor.

  “Aye, ’tis one in this building, another at the bank, and a root cellar behind Mr. Abernathy’s house,” McGregor replied.

  “Captain Morley, take as many men as ye need and get all the citizens of the town into bombproofs!” Duff ordered.

  “Yes, sir!” Morley replied.

  “Sheriff Campbell, we can start with the people here now,” McGregor said. “Would ye be for getting everyone in this room, and every hotel guest into the cellar?”

  “Aye!” Campbell replied, the level of his voice raised in excitement and nervousness over what was happening. “Ladies ’n gents, to the cellar now, if ye please!”

  Campbell’s order was followed by the loud explosions of still more bursting bombs, and that was followed by frightened screams.

  Morley divided the men of the Home Guard into teams, then sent them out through the town to every house and building, looking for occupants to lead to shelter in the few cellars within the city.

  As that was going on, Duff, Elmer, and Wang left the hotel ballroom and went out into the street. They heard a rushing noise, similar to the sound an unattached railroad car made when it was rolling down the track, then the thunderous roar of more exploding shells. Pieces of shrapnel whistled as it flew from the point of impact, sending deadly and invisible shards of metal through the night sky.

  Three buildings were afire, they being the Stallcup Building, McCoy and Tanner, and Chip’s Shoe Alley.

  “We’ve got to get these fires put out,” Elmer shouted. “On account of if we don’t get ’em put out they’re likely to set some o’ the other buildin’s afire.”

  “We’ll nae get anyone to brave the cannon fire to get the job done,” Duff said. “We’ll have to do it our—” Duff stopped in midsentence. “Where’s Wang?”

  “I’ll be damn!” Elmer said. “There he is, up on top of the Stallcup Building.”

  Duff looked in the direction Elmer had pointed and he saw Wang running across the roof of the burning Stallcup Building, carrying two buckets. Setting one of the buckets down, he poured water from the other onto the fire.

  “Come on, Duff. We have to help him,” Elmer said. “We can pass the buckets up to him.”

  “We can do better than that,” Duff replied, starting toward the fire station garage.

  A short while later, Duff and some of the volunteer firemen were rushing toward the burning building, pushing and pulling a pumper, complete with a large tank of water. Within moments the hose had been passed to Wang, who was standing on the roof waiting to have pressurized water available to use to extinguish the burning flames.

  A few more bombs burst in the city.

  The men who brought the pumper began laboring over the device and soon Wang was able to direct a very strong stream of water all the way across the roof to the flames on the far side.

  * * *

  “General Peterson!” Schofield shouted. “Secure the pieces and prepare to withdraw!” he ordered. “I don’t wish to risk the cannon. I want to be out of here before dawn.” He smiled. “I think we have left them our calling cards, and no doubt given MacCallister something to think about.”

  “Yes, sir!” Peterson agreed.

  Over the next several minutes the barrels of the gun were swabbed, which cooled and cleaned them. Then the teams were attached and the caissons were drawn back to Cottonwood Springs. Behind them, several columns of smoke twisted up from the effects of the shelling of Antelope Wells.

  “Well, what do you think, Prime Director?” Peterson said as they rode away. “With artillery, people will sit up and take notice of us now. We aren’t some half-assed group of outlaws. We are an army with artillery, by damn!”

  From the Antelope Wells Standard:

  Terrible Cannonading

  BY CLINT H. DENHAM

  Last night a military ball was held by our town to honor and thank those brave men who have, thus far, so valiantly defended our city. They are not only an army worthy of feting; they are also an army that is now splendidly attired in uniforms designed by Miss Meagan Parker, a visitor to our city. Under Miss Parker’s direction, the uniforms were cut and sewn by volunteer ladies from our own fair city, those ladies being Miss Lucy Culpepper, Miss Ethel Marie Joyce, Miss Lydia Morley, and Miss Cynthia Hughes.

  Were the story to stop here, being only a report of the music, dance, festivities, and fellowship extended to our brave defenders, it would be complete and satisfying on its own. Unfortunately it doesn’t stop here, for it was during this celebration that an abominable act occurred that defies all understanding of one who would consider himself possessed of human qualities. Last night during the very celebration mentioned, our town was subjected to a cruel attack by cannon fire.

  This morning the blackened remains of four private homes and the charred walls of three badly damaged businesses give evidence, if such were needed, as to the unmitigated evil of Ebenezer Schofield and the perfidious men who follow him.

  Using the cover of a night as black as his heart, Schofield began a systematic shelling of the innocent people of our town, to include women and children. Indeed one such child, Emma Lou Rittenhouse, was injured when she was hit by a piece of shrapnel from an exploding shell. Dr. Urban has assured the anxious parents that the little girl will recover without fear of a disfiguring scar, but it is only the result of a Benevolent and Divine Providence that this is so.

  Duff MacCallister, recently appointed general in command of our group of intrepid Home Guard, has said that we will bring all our strength and effort to bear in order to defeat Schofield once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Cottonwood Springs

  Schofield called Peterson in to show him a map he had drawn of the town of Antelope Wells. “This is my plan. I will put three guns here, to the west of the city, and three guns here, to the north. We now know where their fortifications are, and I believe that by a concentrated artillery barrage from the west, we can reduce those positions to rubble. In the meantime, the guns that we will establish here in the north will be used to fire at the businesses and homes.”

  “You mean to shoot at nonmilitary targets, Prime Director?” Peterson asked.

  “Yes. I realize that on the surface it might seem gratuitously cruel, but consider this, General. We have already learned that the casualties from our last artillery attack were practically nonexistent because the citizens of the town were able to find bombproofs. I don’t anticipate that the results of this bombardment will produce any greater casualties. But,” Schofield added, holding up a finger to make a point, “what it will do is create fear and confusion. And once we have eliminated the fortifications, we will be able to take advantage of the disorientation, not only of the civilians, but of the Home Guard personnel who will be concerned about their families. And, that being the case, we will be able to launch an attack that will meet with little resistance.

  “As a result of all that, I’ve no doubt but that the town of Antelope Wells will fall into our hands before nightfall.”

  “How are we going to administer the town, Prime Director? The other three towns fell so quickly and without organized resistance, that it was easy to establish our will over them. I don’t know if we will be able to find someone so subservient in a town that has so effectively defended itself against us.”

  “Ah, but don’t forget. We have a secret weapon in Antelope Wells. We have a partner, so to speak, in Angus Pugh.”

  “But wasn’t the one who approached us with the flag of truce Angus Pugh?”

  “I thought so at first, but I no longer believe that to be the case. If Mr. Carson had been Angus Pugh, I believe he would have identified himself as such, and offered a response to the password challenge. The fact that he did not do so, tells me that he was but a coward who made a foolish attempt to surrender the town when, clearly, he
had no authority.”

  “We still don’t actually know who Angus Pugh is, do we?” Peterson asked.

  “There is no need for us to know who he is, at least not at this point. We do have an authenticator, don’t forget. We have but to challenge anyone who may lay claim to being our asset, and if he provides the appropriate response, we will know that we have found our Angus Pugh.”

  “Yes, very good, sir. This will be an excellent way of utilizing Angus Pugh to our maximum advantage.”

  “And what think you of our plan of attack?” Schofield asked. “By that I mean in establishing two different bases from which to conduct our artillery barrage.”

  “I believe it to be positively brilliant, sir. And you are right, the town of Antelope Wells will fall into our hands tonight like an overripe plum so easily plucked from a tree.”

  “I leave it to you, General, to deploy the troops for battle.”

  * * *

  In Antelope Wells, Duff and General Culpepper were walking along Cactus Street surveying the damage from the artillery attack and discussing what might be the correct tactical response.

  “I don’t know where or how Schofield came up with his artillery,” General Culpepper said. “But I’m quite certain that the acquisition of those guns has given him a new sense of superiority.”

  “Aye, and the fact that he had nae compunctions about using cannon fire against innocent women and children tells me he will employ them in any way he thinks most advantageous to him,” Duff said.

  “I don’t believe that he will use them in the same way again, though,” Culpepper said. “The last time he used them he did nothing but fire indiscriminately into the town. He could have but one purpose for such an action, and that would be to instill fear in our citizens and intimidate our defenders. His next use of artillery will be more planned, and, I am sure, will be followed by an attack against our positions.”

  “By planned you mean?”

  “Aimed at specific targets,” Culpepper replied.

  As they were strolling south, they met Mayor McGregor and Sheriff Campbell coming north.

  “Thanks to the sheriff, ’tis happy I am to say that every citizen now has a safe place to go when the cannonading starts again,” McGregor said.

  “Aye,” Campbell said. “We have located every place that can be used as a bombproof and assigned them to the people. When the first cannonball falls within the town, all know where to go to stay safe.”

  “’Tis a good thing to keep the people safe, but there is nae a way to protect the homes and businesses unless we can stop the cannonading,” Duff said.

  “I agree with you, but I’ve nae idea how we can do that,” McGregor replied.

  “Nor do I,” Duff admitted. “But ’tis something I will be thinking about.”

  * * *

  At headquarters, Schofield put Captain Bond in command of the field pieces that would flank the town from the west side. Unlike the three guns at the north, which were to be used to terrorize the town, Bond’s guns were to be used against specific targets. The shells fired by the Parrott guns were smaller and had less of a bursting range than did the Napoleon cannonballs. The bigger rounds were good for the job of terrorizing, but because the Parrotts fired shells through rifled barrels, they were considerably more accurate than the smooth-bore Napoleons. It was for that reason that Bond had been given the three Parrott guns and the six men who made up the two-man crew for each of the three guns.

  A low-lying ridgeline about five hundred yards west of Antelope Wells would be perfect for the operation. The guns could be put into position, elevated for the proper range and flight path of the shell, and fired, all without coming under observation.

  “Prepare your guns,” Bond said, having reached the ridge.

  The three Parrott rifled guns were disconnected from the team that had drawn them, then moved into position. As the firing crews were readying their weapons, Bond crawled to the top of the ridge. Lying on his stomach, he observed the target through his binoculars.

  He knew, from his previous armed attacks against the town, where the fortifications were, and located the one between Chip’s Shoe Alley and Sikes Hardware.

  “Line your guns up along my arm,” he instructed the gun crews. Holding his arm at about a thirty-five-degree angle, he pointed toward the fortification he had just located.

  “Load your weapons, then stand by and await my command to fire.”

  By arrangement with General Peterson, Captain Bond was to withhold fire until he heard the explosions of the first rounds the general would be firing into the town. But before Peterson could do that, he needed to know that Bond was in position.

  Bond scooted back up to the top of the ridge, lined up the mirror with the sun, and began sending repeated flashes.

  * * *

  Wang saw the flashes of light and instantly realized that the flashes were not the result of some natural phenomenon. Shortly after he saw the flashes he heard something that sounded like a distant thunder. He had heard the same sound last night and knew what to expect next.

  A few seconds after the distant boom, came the whooshing sound of cannonballs in the air. Looking up, he saw three black dots silhouetted against the bright blue sky. The dots grew larger as they came closer, and he saw that each of them was leaving a little trail of smoke.

  One of the cannonballs landed short of the town. The other two came on into town and burst with loud explosions in the middle of Cactus Street. Shards of metal from the casing of the ball whistled out in a three-hundred-sixty-degree cone from the point of impact, though no one was injured and there was no damage done.

  “Cannon fire!” someone shouted. “Everybody head for your bombproofs! Cannon fire!”

  For the next few seconds the town was alive with the residents filling the boardwalks and crowding out into the street as they ran toward their designated shelters. Mothers held the hands of their children. A few mothers hurried along with babes in arms.

  It wasn’t just people dashing for shelter, as more than a dozen dogs were running as well, barking loudly, and keeping pace with their owners.

  Wang heard three more distant thumps coming from somewhere west of town. The shells from those three guns arrived much more quickly after the sound of cannon fire than did the original three, and he knew those second guns were much closer. Based on the flashes of sunlight he had observed a moment earlier, he knew exactly where the guns were.

  “I am going to go look for the guns that are there,” Wang told Duff, pointing west.

  “Aye, ’twould be a good idea for us to know about them,” Duff agreed. He didn’t tell his friend to be careful, because he knew that Wang would exercise as much caution as he could, while still accomplishing the task he had set out for himself.

  The guns north of town fired a second barrage. One of the cannonballs hit just below the roof of the McCoy and Tanner building, but the guards on top of the building were not wounded. The other two balls fell into the street, and like the previous bursting bombs, injured no one.

  The second barrage from the guns west of town was a little more effective. Two of the rounds fell into the open gap between Chip’s Shoe Alley and Sikes Hardware, but the third actually hit on top of the fortification and knocked out a significant portion of the wall.

  “I can’t see the fortification from here, so I don’t know if we are hitting it or not,” Bond called down to the three gun crews. “But we’re certainly dropping them in between the two correct buildings, so I think you should just continue to fire as before.”

  Bond wriggled back up to the top of the ridge so he could continue to observe the target.

  Wang, who had not been noticed by Bond, had made a wide circle of the ridge and was coming up from behind the three gun crews where he saw the horses, ground tethered. Moving through the horses, he got a closer look at the men who were manning the field guns and was pleased to see that not a one of them was armed.

  Behind the three guns s
at the limbers, with their ammo chests open. Because the men were busy loading, aiming, firing, then swabbing the gun barrels, it was very easy for Wang to approach the first limber without being seen. Once there, he was able to hide behind the little ammunition wagon for a moment until the men, all of whom were wearing uniforms of Schofield’s Legion, were distracted. When they weren’t paying attention, he stepped quickly up to the first crew, killing both of them with chops on the back of their necks. Afterward, he moved again behind the limber.

  “Hey, Miller, how come you haven’t sponged the barrel yet? You want to set off the next charge before—” The loader for number two gun stopped in midsentence. “What happened to ’em? They’re both down on the ground.”

  “What?” the gunner asked.

  “Miller ’n Simpson. They’re both lyin’ on the ground.”

  “You think maybe they was shot from town?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The gunner and loader for gun number two hurried over to check on Miller and Simpson.

  As they examined the two men, Wang took advantage of their lack of attention to step up to them. He was on them before either of them saw him.

  “What the hell, who are—”

  Two quick jabs to the ends of their noses sent bone shards into their brains, killing both of them instantly.

  Suddenly there was a gunshot, and Wang felt the air pressure of a bullet passing very close to his ear.

  “Hey, Cap’n, what are you shootin’ at?” one of the remaining two men shouted.

  “Get him!” Captain Bond shouted as he pointed. “Kill that Chinaman!”‘

  Bond shot again, and the men who had been manning gun number three hurried back to the limber that had been serving their cannon, where each of them grabbed a Winchester rifle.

  The advantage in this confrontation had switched quickly from Wang to Captain Bond and the remaining two men of his detail. Having lost the advantage of surprise, Wang glanced around to determine the most expeditious way to escape the situation and quickly decided the best way would be to run straight for the horses, believing the Legion men wouldn’t want to take a chance that they might shoot one of their own animals.