by Neil Hunter
From the not too distant shoreline, Bodie guessed from the trajectory of the slug.
More of Tung’s hired guns. Butler had said there might be more of them in the area.
His eyes picked up movement. Saw armed figures slide a small rowboat from cover in the foliage and drag it to the water. They launched it and began to move it towards The Lily Wanderer.
They hunkered down. Bodie checked his weapons. Three loads in one, two in the other. He transferred the loads to one pistol. Threw the empty one over the side. He still had his own weapon holding six loads.
He could feel Jasmine’s fingers clutching at his sleeve.
‘What do we do now? I don’t suppose you know how to sail a boat?’ she said.
‘No. But I know how to make one burn.’
Chapter Fifteen
Bodie had seen lamps suspended over the deck, still lit from the previous night. He reached up and lifted a couple down.
‘What are you going to do?’ Jasmine asked.
‘Try to gain us some cover.’
He raised the wicks as far as they would go, unscrewed the filler caps and swung the lamps against the cabin structure. Oil spilled down the bleached wood and ignited. Bodie repeated the action with a number of the other lamps. The dry timber burned, flame spreading and smoke started to gather and rise.
‘Let’s move around the other side,’ Bodie said.
Jasmine followed and they slipped around the cabin.
‘Mr. Bodie, are you trying to burn us to death?’
‘Not hardly.’
As the cabin fire spread more smoke billowed, moved by the slight morning breeze. Where oil had spilled across the deck the planking caught and the flames spread.
Bodie led Jasmine to the stern of the ship.
‘The water is quite shallow and we’re close in the shore.’
She frowned at him. ‘Are you expecting us to swim?’
‘Can you walk on water, Miss Soong?’
‘Of course not…’
‘There we are then.’
Bodie slipped over the transom, holding the rail with one hand and offered his other to Jasmine.
‘At least before you came I was able to keep my feet dry,’ Jasmine said.
Despite her misgivings she lowered herself into the water. Bodie slipped an arm around her waist and kept her close. He eased them around to the side of the ship away from the shore and managed to keep their heads above water as he floated them the length of the vessel until they were at the bow where he was able to see the approaching rowboat. Smoke was curling around from the burning deck, lifting and falling in the breeze. Bodie could hear the men in the boat as they peered through the drifting smoke. They appeared to be having conflicting ideas how they should proceed. As long as they were occupied doing that their attention might be distracted.
Whatever he did now was going to put himself and Jasmine at greater risk, but they had little choice. The moment the rowboat began to slide along the length of the ship Bodie moved himself and the girl away from the bow and struck out for the shoreline.
‘Just kick your legs,’ he said. ‘I’ll keep you above water.
To her credit Jasmine did as he suggested and they moved away from The Lily Wanderer.
Behind them the vessel was well ablaze now. Flames were slowly engulfing the deck, creeping up the masts and rigging. Sparks made orange sprays as they were caught by the breeze and flung about. The smoke was thicker now, curling and eddying, rising over the stricken ship.
Bodie concentrated his efforts on getting them to the beach and the treeline that would at least offer them added protection. If they could reach it before the men in the boat realized they were no longer on board…
The shout came from behind them.
Followed by a wild shot that came close.
Bodie’s feet touched bottom. He pushed forward, dragging Jasmine with him. As the water shallowed out they were both able to stand upright.
‘We head for the trees,’ he said. ‘And don’t stop.’
They stumbled ashore, Bodie grabbing Jasmine’s hand and pulling her along beside him. He was not too gentle, yet the girl made no protest. Across the sand and into the cover of the trees and vegetation. The brush parted for them as they went through. The thin tendrils slapped at their bodies. Caught their faces. Bodie kept moving. No particular destination. Simply gaining distance between them and Tung’s men.
He came to a stop. Gestured for Jasmine to stay low. She did as she was told, panting as she caught her breath. She had the good sense not to speak as Bodie crouched next to her, scanning back the way they had come, ears straining to pick up any sound that might tell them how close their pursuers were. He picked up distant noise. Someone pushing through the foliage and not being too quiet about it. Then more sound from another point. Working their way through the brush. The rowboat crew had reached shore and were moving in.
‘Persistent. I’ll give ’em that,’ he whispered.
‘My goodness, knowing that really helps, Mr. Bodie. I’m am feeling so much better now.’
She had a couple of thin scratches on her face, her clothes were still damp from the water, but she maintained her streak of sassiness. At least she wasn’t one of those females who simply collapsed and cried at every turn. Which right now was a big help.
Sound grew stronger.
Someone closer.
Bodie saw foliage shiver as a body pushed through. He saw the dark bulk as the man stepped into an open patch. He was hard-looking, long hair spilling over the collar of his check shirt. He was armed with a pistol in his left hand. His head was casting back and forth as he moved forward, his gaze dropping to the ground searching. He must have picked up their tracks as he straightened up and moved in a direct line to where Bodie and Jasmine were concealed.
Bodie considered his move. He knew the man was not alone.
How many partners did he have?
Further concern was put on hold as the Tung man made his presence known even closer. Bodie had to do something. Fast. And he needed to keep any confrontation as silent as possible. Avoiding alerting any other possible threats.
Bodie let the pistol fall from his hand and slid his knife from the sheath on his hip. He passed the keen-bladed weapon to his left hand, leaving his right free to deal with the oncoming gunman. The man was almost on the brush concealing Bodie and Jasmine. It was as far as he got. Bodie stepped forward. He grabbed the gun hand and yanked the man forward and onto the blade of the knife he was wielding. A shocked expression crossed the man’s face as he felt the cold steel slide into his body. Bodie pushed it in deep. As far as it could go, twisting to expand the wound. The gunman’s mouth began to open in the forerunner to a scream. Bodie cut it short by slamming his head forward, butting the man’s nose and crushing it. Blood burst from the crushed nose, streaming down his face in a glistening flood. With a vicious yank Bodie removed the pistol from the man’s hand. He slumped forward over Bodie’s knife hand and Bodie followed him down to the ground. As the man folded up Bodie pulled the knife free. He jammed it back in its sheath.
Behind him Jasmine made a choking sound, hands raised to her shocked, white face. Bodie checked the pistol. Saw it held six filled chambers. He left the water-soaked gun on the ground.
‘Jasmine, let’s move. He wasn’t on his own. His friends must be around somewhere.’
‘You…’
‘Yeah. I killed him. Jasmine, he wasn’t looking to invite us for tea and sympathy. And neither will his partners.’ Bodie caught her arm, hard. ‘You want to go back to Tung? To whatever he has waiting for you?’ She shook her head. ‘Then let’s move. Now.’
He pushed her forward, sent her stumbling through the brush, knowing that any time he might had gained for them was slipping away. Tung’s hired guns would soon realize one of their number was out of the game so they needed to stay ahead of any pursuit…
Chapter Sixteen
Bodie heard the heavy sound of horses being pushe
d through the brush. The men from the boat must have had them close by. That changed the rules. He was ill equipped to deal with mounted opposition. His own animal was back at the house. A distance away and in the opposite direction to the one he and Jasmine were going. It just added to the problems he already had. Not that he was about to give up. The thought never crossed his mind.
‘Time we moved,’ said.
‘How can…’
Bodie didn’t give her the chance to complete her question. He planted his left hand between her shoulders and pushed her into motion. It was no time for politeness.
Behind them and coming closer he could hear the bulk of the horses as the riders closed the gap.
As if she had suddenly grasped the severity of their situation Jasmine put on a spurt, long legs carrying her ahead of Bodie. Despite her agility there was no way she could outrun a horse.
Bodie caught a fleeting glimpse of a horse and rider emerging from the greenery. The rider was urging his mount on, the animal eating up the distance. Head stretched out, mane flying back over its neck. Hooves pounding the soft earth of the forest. A second rider was moving up, angling in Bodie’s direction, his intention to separate them.
The rider chasing after Jasmine spurred his horse forward and it passed Bodie. The rider leaned forward, arm reaching out to catch hold of Jasmine’s dress as he leveled with her. Bodie heard her scream a second before she was lifted off her feet and dragged across the saddle. He sensed the bulk of the other horse moving alongside him, tried to move out of its path but the heavy weight of the animal slammed into him and Bodie’s feet left the ground as he was sent flying.
He hit the ground, bounced and rolled, senses jarred by the impact. As soft as it was the forest floor drove the breath from his body. Bodie threw out his left hand to brake his fall, taking most of it across the shoulders. His forward motion only ceased when he slammed against the base of a tree. He struggled to regain his balance, ignoring the dull ache that swept across his body. Bodie threw out a hand and pushed it against the trunk of the tree that had halted his forward movement.
Even in his off-kilter moment he understood enough to know the rider who had put him down would be coming back. He twisted his head around and there the rider was, reining his horse around and slamming in his heels to urge the animal on.
Sonofabitch, Bodie muttered, now you’ve done it.
He was mad. Mad angry and when Bodie reached that state of mind he was not about to lie back and quit. He sucked in a breath, levered himself to one knee and brought up the pistol still in his hand.
The oncoming rider saw the rising pistol, realized he had not accounted for the manhunter’s resilience. There was no way he would be able to turn his horse aside, so he did the only thing he could. He dropped his hand to the holstered pistol on his side.
He was too slow and far too late.
Bodie put a pair of shots into him. One caught his throat, the second took him in the chest. The man rolled back in his saddle, lost his grip and went over the horse’s rear end, trailing a spume of blood. He slammed to the ground, face down, hard, but by then he was too far gone to notice.
Bodie lurched to his feet, eyes searching for the rider who had taken Jasmine. He caught a fragmented image of the rider weaving through the timber. Raised his pistol before realizing there was no way he would get a clear shot in amongst the timber. He needed to be closer.
Bodie turned about. Saw the riderless horse had come to a halt. He pushed the pistol behind his belt and approached the horse slowly. The horse swung its head round and eyed him. Bodie reached out and took hold of the dangling reins, drew the horse close and patted its neck. As he swung into the saddle he was reminded of the hurt his body had undergone and knew he was going to be suffering. Right now that didn’t matter. He turned the horse and set it after the rider who had Jasmine. He saw there was a saddle gun in the leather scabbard. Drew it out and checked it. It was a .44 caliber Henry. A well cared for rifle. Sixteen shots in the magazine if it was fully loaded.
He pushed the horse forward. He needed to close the gap between himself and the rider who had Jasmine.
That was his priority now.
Chapter Seventeen
Bodie could see Jasmine hanging limply across the saddle in front of the rider. As the horses broke from the trees, starting to cross an open stretch Bodie saw his chance. He hauled his mount to a dead stop, rising in his stirrups and brought the Henry to his shoulder. He pulled down on the distant target, hoping the rifle shot true, held his target and touched the trigger. He felt the Henry jerk back against his shoulder as it fired.
The .44 caliber slug struck just below the rider’s hat brim. It jerked the man forward, a dark gout of blood bursting out from his skull as he pitched forward, slipping sideways off the horse’s back. His right foot caught in the stirrup and he hung limply. The unaccustomed weight made the horse slow and stop.
Bodie drew rein alongside, easing his bruised body from the saddle. He reached up and slid Jasmine from the horse, holding her slim form in his arms as he moved her away. He could feel her stirring sluggishly and saw the bruise across her right cheek where the rider had struck her. He laid her on the ground, went back to the horse and took the canteen he saw. He knelt beside her, uncapping the canteen and splashed dribbles of water over her face until she opened her eyes, staring up at him. Panic gripped her before she recognized Bodie.
‘This is becoming a habit, Mr. Bodie. You rescuing me from bad men.’
‘Let’s hope this is the last time.’
Jasmine’s gaze was drawn to the sprawled body. She failed to repress a shudder when she saw what Bodie’s shot had done.
‘Because of that man, Tung, there seems to have been a great deal of violence and dying.’
Bodie inspected the bruise of her face. ‘You seem to be having your share of hard treatment. Tung? His time is coming. Believe me.’ He helped Jasmine to her feet. ‘Can you ride?’
‘If it helps to get away from all this, I’ll ride, Mr. Bodie.’
Chapter Eighteen
Dr. Boyd stood on the boardwalk outside his office, alongside Richard Hunt, mugs of coffee in their hands. They were watching as a tight bunch of riders came along the street and it was obvious they were heading for Boyd’s place.
It was still early morning, few people about. If Boyd had been expecting a slow day he was about to be disappointed.
‘That’s Brand,’ Hunt said.
‘Hallows and Kilpatrick,’ Boyd said, recognizing the lawmen..
The four riders halted in front of them.
‘The man called Butler has a bad shoulder and arm wound,’ Hallows said. ‘And Kilpatrick needs some attention too.’
‘See to the man first,’ Kilpatrick said.
Boyd handed his coffee mug to Hunt, then moved forward, assisting Hallows and Brand in getting Butler off his horse. The man was barely awake, his wounded shoulder and arm a mass of congealed and darkened blood. He dragged his feet as he was maneuvered inside the doctor’s office.
‘Can I give you a hand, Sergeant?’ Hunt said.
‘And disturb your own wound? I’ll be fine, Captain, but thank you for the offer.’
The Irishman slid from his saddle and stood for a moment. When Hunt offered him one of the coffee mugs he took it gratefully, gulping the hot liquid quickly.
‘You should get yourself inside and let the doctor look at you,’ Hunt suggested.
‘Yeah, go on and get yourself checked out Sergeant,’ Brand said as he stepped back outside.
Kilpatrick nodded. ‘I think that might be a good idea, sir. I must admit to feeling a mite weak.’
The Irishman took himself inside.
‘A successful endeavor?’ Hunt asked.
‘We faced off Tung’s hired guns. But Tung and Traeger gave us the slip and by now they should be back in the city.’
Hallows joined them.
‘I should take a walk to my office,’ he said. ‘In case there are matters
I need to attend to.’
‘Anything happens I’ll let you know,’ Brand said.
Hunt watched the Inspector leave. ‘I’m sure they will,’ he said. ‘Things happen.’
They do, Richard, old chum.’
They were both right.
~*~
Butler let out a pained moan as Boyd peeled off the bloody bandage. The doctor made a cursory examination of the messy wound. Broken bone showed in the ragged flesh and even with his scant view the doctor could see there was little he would be able to do for the damage.
He glanced across at the patiently waiting Kilpatrick
‘Seamus, how are you doing?’ he asked.
The Irishman shrugged. ‘Next to that poor sod I only have a scratch.’
‘I need to deal with Butler right now.’
‘Then do it. I’m not about to keel over and die on you.’
Boyd soaked a pad in chloroform and placed it over Butler’s face, holding it there until the man lapsed into unconsciousness. With the man asleep Boyd pulled on a long white smock, washed his hands and gathered his instruments. Before he looked to Butler the doctor checked Kilpatrick’s side and cleaned it, wrapping a wide bandage around his body.
‘You’ll need stitches in that. I’ll treat it further after I’ve done with Butler.’
‘What are his chances?’ Hunt asked.
‘Chances? That he’ll likely live but end up with a crippled arm. The bullet has ripped his bone to shreds and probably damaged nerves and muscle. All I can do is patch him up and hope he doesn’t catch an infection.’
~*~
Brand had stepped back inside the doctor’s office, leaving Hunt to stand outside for a minute. As he started to turn around to make his own way back inside himself, Hunt spotted a couple of Chinese on the opposite side of the street. They were making a show of looking in the window of a boot maker, appearing to be interested in the display behind the glass. Something in their manner aroused Hunt’s curiosity. When he turned about glanced into the widow of Boyd’s office where he could see the reflected images of the Chinese pair. Now he had his back to them they were staring at him. Hunt pushed open the door of the doctor’s office and stepped inside. As he closed the door he stepped to the side. Staying in the cover of the inner window frame he watched as the Chinese pair made their slow way across the busy street.
