Vigilante Dawn

by Ralph Compton

“Perhaps you weren’t there that night,” Lem said, “but there wasn’t much trouble at that ranch. Not on our end anyways.”

  “Then why the hell did you scamper away like a rat? Tell me!”

  “I’ll tell it to Clay. He’s the only one I owe any explanation to, and if you want to be there to listen, you’re more than welcome.”

  Dave’s hand snapped out like a rattler sinking its fangs into a mouse. Grabbing hold of Lem’s jacket, he gave him a shake and said, “You owe an explanation to all of us! Clay wasn’t the only one you were covering with that rifle and eagle eye of yours. And Clay sure as hell wasn’t the only one covering you at one time or another.”

  “You through ranting?” Lem asked.

  “Not yet. Where have you been? Tell me, if you got an ounce of self-preservation in you.”

  Lem looked down at the hand that was holding his jacket. He swatted that hand aside with a motion that was so quick it could hardly be seen. Although he’d barely shifted his weight, the difference between how he carried himself now compared to before was like night and day. “Clay’s getting into the slave trade. Isn’t that right?”

  Dave scowled and took half a step back. “He told us what he had planned for any prisoners, but you know Clay. He ain’t the sort who takes prisoners.”

  “That’s right. He also talks about a lot of plans that never see the light of day. But I had a word with Paxton after he tried to kill me and a few others back in Flat Pass.”

  Grinning, Dave mused, “Ol’ Pax found you after all, did he? When he didn’t come back, we thought he was either killed or decided to follow your example.”

  “He kicked down a door and opened fire while I was having a bath,” Lem said.

  “Pax was a good tracker, but he never was very subtle.”

  “He told me that a few prisoners presented themselves to Clay after I left. Seems Clay decided to follow through on one of them plans after all where selling folks to the Canadian was concerned.”

  “That’s right,” Dave said with a slow nod. “He did.”

  Jarrett kept still and quiet as those two spoke to each other. Although Dave wasn’t paying him any mind for the moment, Brian was studying him carefully. Jarrett tried to look annoyed by being under such scrutiny. By the third time he looked in Brian’s direction, the act was already wearing thin.

  “We’re robbers,” Lem continued. “Killers, when necessary, and rustlers to be certain. That’s what we do. What we know. Do you have any idea how differently we’ll be treated now that we’re slavers?”

  Dave let out one snorting laugh. “Selling a few women to a Canadian don’t make us slavers.”

  “One woman. One girl. How many other children were there?”

  “I saw a baby,” Dave replied.

  “And what’s to become of that littlest one?” Lem asked. “Do you know? Do you even care? Because I do!”

  Instead of looking over at Brian directly, Jarrett checked on him using just the corner of his eye. He was still being watched. Jarrett eased his hand over to his holster, getting as close as he dared to the Colt.

  “You hearing this, Brian?” Dave sneered. “Our sharpshooter’s grown a conscience. Ain’t that just quaint?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with a conscience,” Lem said. “Every man’s got one. Either he works around it or he don’t. My concern is about Clay making our jobs and our whole lives harder than they need to be. If you had the wits God gave a mule, that would be your concern as well.”

  “Weren’t you listening when Clay told us how much we could stand to make from selling off them women?”

  “So are you looking to find some safe little hole to crawl into and curl up with your money? Because that’s what you’ll have to do to avoid all the heat that’ll come our way once word gets out that Clay and his gang have started stealing people instead of cattle.”

  Dave scowled at him. “You don’t think Clay will pay us our cut when he gets back from Canada? He’s never cheated us before.”

  This time, it was Lem who grabbed hold of Dave by the jacket and shook him. “No!” he said after jostling him and letting go. “This isn’t about the money. Even if Clay does pay us everything he promised, things will be different. The law will come after us harder than ever before. Bounty hunters will be hired by grieving family members looking to extract revenge. Our tracks will be harder to cover.”

  “We know how to cover our tracks well enough,” Dave said.

  “That’ll change real quick when bounty hunters and lawmen find other witnesses to question. Who knows what they’ll be told when they have a word with them women that were sold off? Rustling cattle is a whole lot easier. Cows can’t do much of anything to point back at us.”

  Dave’s eyes narrowed into a squint. “You always did plenty of thinking, Lem.”

  “I’m the one that’s always lying in a bush a hundred yards away from everyone else. That gives a man plenty of time to think.”

  “Maybe too much time.” After a long second or two, Dave asked, “What did you do to Pax?”

  “I found him after he made a mess of his attack on me.”

  “It was a mess?”

  “I’m still alive, ain’t I?” When Dave shrugged, Lem continued. “He told me about the prisoners and that Clay sent him to put an end to me since he knew I didn’t already agree with selling them off. After that . . . I shot him.”

  “Just as simple as that, huh?” Dave said with disgust. Before long, he shrugged. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Pax always was hotheaded. One of us was gonna kill him sooner or later. Still . . . that don’t excuse you turning your back to the rest of us.”

  “You honestly think everything would have been rose petals and fat bags of money once Clay drug us into the slavery business?”

  “I wouldn’t call it slavery as such,” Dave said. “Whores get sold back and forth all the time.”

  “And you don’t call that slavery?”

  “I call that a bad contract.”

  “Those folks that were taken from Jarrett’s ranch didn’t sign any contract,” Lem said. “And even if they did, they don’t deserve to be dragged away and put into the hands of someone who’ll . . . well . . . God only knows what that Canadian will do to them. I’d rather not find out.”

  “Since when did you become so soft when it came to conducting business?” Dave asked. “I know this is new territory, but still . . .”

  “If you recall, I voted against the idea when Clay brought it up the first time. I voted against this sort of thing every time, as a matter of fact.”

  “Yeah, I recall. Clay was never too happy about it. You weren’t the sort who would skin off in the middle of a job, though. And you were never the one to call folks by their proper names until you knew them. I believe one time you told me it was so you wouldn’t get too close. Come to think of it,” Dave said suspiciously, “how did you know that rancher’s name was Jarrett?”

  “I heard it somewhere along the line.”

  “Hey, Sol,” Dave said as he turned toward Jarrett. “Do you recall Lem being within earshot when we heard that rancher’s name?”

  Jarrett shook his head and Brian was all too quick to throw in as well. “I didn’t hear you, Sol,” the gunman said while storming down the porch steps. “Why don’t you take that bandanna off?”

  “Yeah, Sol,” Dave said. “I can never hear you when you wear that thing.”

  Jarrett had waited too long. He knew that now. But it wasn’t too late. Dave looked at him with more annoyance than suspicion and Brian wasn’t convinced enough to draw his pistol. That meant the window of opportunity was still open, even if it was about to slam shut.

  Taking a step back, Jarrett took hold of the Colt at his side. Before he got it free of its holster, things had already gone straight to hell.

  Chapter 30

  I
n a short span of time, Jarrett’s proficiency with a firearm was definitely improving. It wasn’t, however, improved enough to beat the likes of the experienced gunmen in front of him. His only remaining advantage was the element of surprise, and Jarrett hoped that would be enough to keep him alive for the next couple of seconds.

  Dave reached for his pistol and brought it up in a smooth, practiced motion. Before he could squeeze his trigger, he was knocked backward by Lem, who threw himself at the outlaw. Snarling a litany of profanity, Dave staggered toward the house until he knocked into Brian, who then tripped on one of the lower steps directly behind him.

  Jarrett now had his gun in hand and the hammer cocked back. Taking quick aim, he fired a shot that burned through the air to shred away a large piece of Brian’s elbow. The impact spun the gunman to one side and sent him to his knees. Inside the house, women screamed and hurried to find suitable cover.

  “I knew it!” Dave snarled as he wrestled with Lem. “The second you turned up missing, I knew you couldn’t wait to sink a knife into all our backs. Pax was one thing, but this!”

  Lem’s response to that was to drive a knee into Dave’s stomach. The impact doubled the outlaw over, setting him up for another knee that caught him on the jaw. Dave staggered back until he hit the railing along the front of the porch. Behind him, Brian had just gotten back to his feet so he could fire a shot at Jarrett.

  That round hissed past Jarrett’s head, causing him to drop to one knee. From that lower stance, he needed to lift the Colt a bit more so he could fire at something other than the ground. His arm trembled with the effort and the trigger suddenly felt almost too stiff to be pulled.

  “I was glad when you left,” Dave said as he drove an upward punch into Lem’s chest. When he heard Lem suck in a wheezing breath, Dave stood tall and slammed his knuckles against Lem’s gut. “Showed everyone your true colors,” Dave continued. “But some of us already knew what them colors were.”

  Brian sidestepped on the porch until he could take a shot that wasn’t blocked by Dave or Lem. His sights were fixed solely on Jarrett and he fired before he had his feet firmly set. The bullet whipped past Jarrett’s left side, scraping the meat of his arm without giving him more than a brief twinge of pain and a scratch. As the outlaw lined up a proper shot, Jarrett unleashed his remaining bullets in a torrent that chipped away at the porch rail as well as the man standing behind it. Brian’s entire body convulsed and was tossed against the house’s front window before sliding down the glass.

  “You . . . stupid . . . son of a bitch,” Dave growled. “Should’ve stayed in whatever rat hole you slunk into the first time.”

  Lem put all of his weight behind his left fist as he hit Dave with a chopping blow across the face. As he spoke, he followed up with one punch after another delivered to Dave’s head. “I . . . never . . . liked . . . you!” he said until he barely had enough wind to get another word out.

  Although Dave had reeled back from the punches, he wasn’t knocked very far. One heel was braced against the bottom steps for support and he remained standing purely through force of will. When he lifted his head to look Lem in the eye, Dave’s face was a bloody mess. One eye had absorbed most of the damage and his nose was skewed at an awkward angle. Running the tip of his tongue over a split bottom lip, Dave hacked up a mouthful of blood and spat it at Lem’s feet. “Aw,” he said in a mocking tone. “Ain’t that just a shame?”

  Jarrett pulled the bandanna off all the way and threw it to the ground. “What’s the quickest way to find Clay?”

  “You’re that rancher, right?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah. Now answer my question.”

  “Don’t bother waving that gun at me, rancher. You emptied your cylinder.”

  “You’re still outnumbered,” Jarrett said fiercely. “And I can reload plenty quick enough.”

  “He’s got nothing else to say, Jarrett,” Lem said. “Even if he knew anything worth hearing, he wouldn’t tell either of us.”

  “You never were stupid, Lem,” Dave said. “A yellow- bellied coward, maybe, but not stupid.”

  “We all have our faults,” Lem said. “Care to guess what yours may be?”

  “Do tell.”

  “Overconfidence.”

  Scowling distastefully, Dave reached for his holster. He recoiled slightly when his hand found nothing but leather at his hip. Dave even looked down to make absolutely certain that he was feeling in the right spot for his weapon, only to come up empty once more.

  “And your other fault,” Lem said as he showed Dave the pistol he’d lifted from his holster during their scuffle. “You’re easily distracted.”

  “And you’re not long for this world,” Dave replied. “Once Clay finds out that you’re a traitor as well as a coward—”

  “He won’t find out anything,” Lem said. “Not until it’s too late.” With that, he squeezed the trigger of the gun he’d stolen. The pistol barked twice in quick succession and then, after a pause, once more.

  Dave remained standing for a moment, blinking as his mouth moved to form words. His lungs couldn’t put enough wind behind them to get those words out, so Dave wound up taking them to his grave.

  Looking up, Lem found Brian on the porch, took aim, and fired two more rounds into the unmoving body.

  “What was that for?” Jarrett asked after reloading his Colt. “He was already dead.”

  “Had to be sure,” Lem said. “Dave was right about one thing. If Clay finds out how many men he’s lost, it won’t bode well for us.”

  “How long had you ridden with them?”

  Lem was already taking the gun belt from around Dave’s waist. “What’s that matter?” he asked.

  “Because you just gunned him down without a thought.”

  “I thought about it plenty,” Lem said. “Starting with all the times I watched this animal kill folks without good reason and every time he threatened to kill me just because I didn’t agree with every little thing that came out of his stupid mouth. Last time I thought about it was when I saw he’d become an even worse animal than before. Why? You feeling sorry for him?”

  “Not one bit. Just . . . if you could do that to men you used to call friend . . .”

  “I called them partners. Not friends.”

  “I guess it just surprises me, is all,” Jarrett said. “Especially after all that talking between you and Dave before a shot was fired.”

  “The only reason I was talking to him for so long was that I was waiting for you to make a move. Took you long enough.”

  By now, the front door of the house squeaked open so a woman could take a peek outside. Lem and Jarrett both froze like a couple of boys who’d been caught trying to sneak into a circus tent without paying for a ticket.

  The woman opened the door all the way. She was a bit older than the one who’d been sitting on the porch earlier and spoke with a distinctly authoritarian sharpness in her voice. “So, I take it the four of you aren’t partners after all?”

  “Not anymore, ma’am,” Lem said.

  After taking a quick look at the state of her porch and window, she said, “You left us a mess.”

  Lem knew exactly where to look when he dug into one of Dave’s shirt pockets. The wad of cash he found there seemed to be a bit more than he was expecting, but he handed it over all the same. “Here you go,” he said while picking up Dave’s body. “That should cover the damages with some to spare. For that extra, I’d like to ask that you forget we were here.”

  The woman sifted through the money and nodded. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re just a couple men who came along to collect your friends that were passed out on the porch. Guess these two must’ve shot each other in some sort of argument.”

  “Much obliged,” Lem said as he carried Dave across the street.

  Jarrett picked up Brian’s body and slung it over one shoulder
. Following Lem across the street, he dropped the body next to the spot where Dave had been propped against a building. The spot was thick with shadows at the moment, but even that didn’t fully hide the two gunmen.

  “Come morning, they’ll be spotted easy enough,” Jarrett said.

  Lem hunkered down over Brian so he could perform a quick search of the younger man’s pockets. “Come morning, we won’t be here. Besides, I’m sure these won’t be the first corpses to be found after a particularly eventful night.”

  “I suppose you’re right. If that had been a rare event, someone would’ve come running to investigate these gunshots.”

  “This place belongs to men like Roland Gein. Plenty of nights around here are eventful.”In the third pocket he searched, Lem found a wad of cash roughly the same size as the one that had been in Dave’s possession. “They must’ve divvied up some money while they were in there.”

  “You think that’ll keep us in supplies for the ride north?” Jarrett asked.

  “All the way to Canada?”

  “That’s where Clay’s headed. That’s where we need to go.”

  “What about Sheriff Rubin? Didn’t you want to meet up with him again?”

  “Something about him never seemed quite right,” Jarrett said. “I still don’t think it was just bad timing that he never went out to my ranch when the herd was being moved out of there. After all, he did say he’d seen smoke from the fire.”

  Lem took the gun belts off both dead outlaws and draped one over each shoulder. “Yeah,” he said while leaving the bodies behind him. “The sheriff did say something about that.”

  “He’s crooked, right?”

  “No,” Lem replied. “He’s just lazy and his deputy couldn’t give a damn about doing his job.”

  “Ackerman?”

  “Tom.”

  “Good,” Jarrett said. “I was beginning to like Ackerman.” He and Lem walked down the street a short ways before either of them spoke. Once the house with three lanterns was well behind them, Jarrett asked, “So, is this how outlaws settle things when they have a parting of ways? Someone starts shooting and someone else winds up dead in an alley?”