The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “Go to hell, you son of a bitch,” Ben snarled. “With half a chance I’ll blow your godamn head off!”

  Elder Brother urged his horse forward to where Ben stood with his arms tightly bound. The cult leader kicked out catching him full in the chest. Ben stumbled back a couple of steps before falling to the ground with the breath knocked out of him.

  “We shall waste no more time,” Elder Brother said. “We go now to where the other Outsider is waiting for his companions to join him in hell.”

  Zachary trembled, saying, “You mean you’re gonna hang us?”

  “Exactly, young man,” Elder Brother replied. “And you had better pray that God shows you more mercy than I when your immortal soul passes before him on Judgment Day.”

  “Hey!” Deacon Daniel exclaimed. “There’s two of ’em missing.”

  Doss spoke up. “You kilt him during the first fight we had.”

  “Sir,” Zachary spoke up, “I shot the other’n last night. I was trying to talk ever’body into giving you back your cash money. But they wouldn’t. And this other’n tried to kill me. So I shot him. I wanted to give your cash money back to you, don’t you understand?”

  “Oh, Zachary!” Doss moaned in disappointment.

  Zachary persisted in his lie. “I knowed this thing was all wrong. I told ’em so. But I’m just a kid, see?”

  “Shut your lying mouth!” Elder Brother yelled in fury. “Isn’t there supposed to be honor among thieves? You cannot even live up to your own code of evil and destruction.” He turned to the trembling Becky. “And as for you, we’ll take you back to Colorado where the women will stone you to death as a harlot and traitor to the True Word of God.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The four prisoners with hands and arms tightly bound, were forced to walk behind the Brethrens’ horses. The riders maintained control over the captives by holding onto ropes tied around their necks.

  “Could you slow down a mite; please?” Doss pleaded, stumbling along with the pressure of the rope making it difficult for him to breathe.

  “Save your entreaties for your lost soul,” the rider said, giving the rope a jerk.

  Becky, sobbing with the effort, had to literally trot across the rugged prairie to avoid being pulled off her feet.

  “For God’s sake!” Doss shouted. “Y’all are gonna kill the girl.”

  “Piss on ’em,” Ben said. “I wouldn’t ask these bastards for nothing.”

  The response he got for was for his rider to urge the horse into a gallop and circle the column. Ben, now forced into a dead run, yelled his defiance despite the pain and humiliation.

  “Y’all call yourselves men of God,” Doss hollered. “But you don’t show none of the mercy taught in the Bible.”

  “This is an eye-for-an-eye and a tooth-for-a-tooth as taught in the Old Testament,” Elder Brother called back. “The wages of sin is death, Outsider, and from the moment you robbed our mine you were dead. As far as we are concerned you are all cadavers and we are merely transporting you to your final resting place.”

  “Please…tell ’em to slow down…Mr. Kearns,” Becky begged. “I cain’t…keep…running…like this.”

  “She’s a woman, for the love of God!” Doss exclaimed. “Ain’t there a decent man among you? Who’d torment a woman?”

  “And who would shoot six unarmed men dead in a mine after robbing them?” Elder Brother thundered back.

  “Well, hell’s fire, she didn’t do it!”

  “It was her twisted, evil intentions that caused it,” Elder Brother retorted. He whipped his eyes over to the distressed girl. “So, run you miserable little strumpet, run until your lungs burst and your eyes pop from your painted face.”

  “You miserable son of a bitch!” Doss bellowed.

  Deacon Daniel turned from his place in line and rode back to the farmer. “If’n you keep—“

  The rifle slug tore away half his face and he pitched over the head of the horse, falling at Doss’ feet. The other Brethren whirled their horses in confusion as more shots tore into their midst, dropping them two and three at a time. It was impossible to see who was shooting at them or from what exact location.

  “Get down!” Doss yelled to Becky when he saw that her rider was among those hit. She quickly dropped to the ground as did Ben and Zachary.

  The ambush was well planned. The drygulchers obviously had several firearms fully loaded as numerous shots kept tearing into the ranks of Elder Brother’s milling, confused followers.

  The leader’s own horse pitched and spun in the turmoil before collapsing from the simultaneous strike of three bullets. Elder Brother rolled free and leaped to his feet, shaking his fists as he spun around, desperately trying to catch sight of any attackers. A slug struck him in the side, spinning him completely around. He stood bleeding, dizzy but feeling no pain.

  “I call upon the Lord to smash you like weevils!” he yelled in a loud voice.

  Another bullet slammed the man squarely in the chest lifting him off his feet and fling him over the dead horse. Now frothing at the mouth in an insane rage, he crawled up the side of the animal and once again started to heap religious intimidation on the attackers. But a round hit his face, tearing through teeth and bone. Elder Brother, his own soul released from earthy trials and tribulations, slipped down the side of the horse’s carcass.

  Now all the saddles were emptied and the ground was covered with the dead and moaning Brethren. Lorimer Jacks, Charlie Chasseur, Cole Bascomb and Buck Krieger stepped from their concealment and carefully approached the scene with their weapons at the ready.

  “Give them strange looking fellers each a shot in the head,” Jacks said to his cohorts. He walked up to Doss and nudged him with his boot. “Howdy.”

  Doss looked up, confused but happy at seeing a familiar face. “Hello, Jacks, where’d you come from?”

  “Hell, Kearns, I was just out for a ride with my pards here and seen you was in trouble.”

  “We’re obliged,” Doss said gratefully.

  “And we smelled some greenbacks,” Jacks added.

  “What?”

  “We know all about the gold robbery and your trip to Amarillo.”

  “We need that cash money to pay off the bank,” Doss said. Then the realization sunk in. “Treadwell found out about our plans, didn’t he?”

  “Never you mind about that,” Jacks said. “The cash is ours. And there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it neither. If you go to the law, you’ll have some heavy explaining to do. Chasseur over there has been dogging you boys for days and he’s learned that y’all shot a few folks back in Colorado. You wouldn’t want that brought out in the open, would you?”

  “I reckon not,” Doss said.

  “Oh, shit!” Burly Tanner yelled out.

  “What’s the matter?” Jacks asked.

  “The gal got hit,” Tanner answered. “She’s deader’n a doornail.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Chasseur said, walking over to view the corpse. He nudged the girl with his foot, but she didn’t respond. “Yep. She’s a goner all right.”

  Buck Krieger and Cole Bascomb joined him. “What a waste,” Krieger said.

  “Well, things don’t always turn out the way you want ’em to,” Lorimer Jacks observed. “Anyhow, we’ll ride back to the cabin and rest a bit and divvy the loot before we head back to Dodge.”

  “Hey! Look who I found,” Tanner said triumphantly. He pulled Ben McKenna to his feet. “Here’s our old pard Mack Kersey, bigger’n life and twice as ugly.”

  “Howdy, boys,” Ben said.

  “That ain’t who you think it is,” Zachary said. “His name is Ben McKenna.”

  “McKenna?” Jacks said. “By God, Mack, I guess that’s your real name, ain’t it. Kin to Ed McKenna, are you?”

  “We was brothers,” Ben replied.

  “Was, huh? He musta been one of ’em that go his. Y’all didn’t survive this thing too good, did you.”

  Buck Krieger grinned
. “It don’t matter what your real name is, Mack, we’re right pleased to see you again. There’s that matter of some loot from a railroad robbery.”

  “I lost it, boys,” Ben said. “I took it like I was supposed to, but when them railroad detectives rode up on us, I got ascared and galloped off. Them bags came loose and bounced all over the ground. I didn’t get a cent out of it. No, sir, not a cent.”

  “That ain’t what we heard,” Jacks said. “We was told you was in Caldera, Colorado spending money like there was no tomorry.”

  “Sure, I was in Caldera, but, hell, I was flat busted,” Ben said. “I had a few dollars from another job, but I spent it all right quick. That musta been what caused it to look like—“

  Tanner angrily interrupted, “You never was a good pard. I reckon these damn sodbusters have figgered that out by now. You’re nothing but a lying bastard that makes more trouble’n your worth.” He switched his carbine over to his left hand drew his revolver with the right.

  “Now, Burly, that’s a hell of a thing to say,” Ben said calmly. “We been on more’n one job together and things worked out fine most of the time.”

  “You took our money from that railroad job,” Tanner snarled.

  Ben accepted the inevitable, now determined to be remembered as being brave to the end. “So you’re gonna to what you gotta do, right?”. We rode together a few times, Burly, so can I ask a favor of you?”

  “Ask it.”

  “Just don’t gutshoot me,” Ben said.

  “I’ll grant you that,” Tanner said. He pulled the trigger and the back of Ben’s head exploded out as his face collapsed inward. The body fell in a heap to the sod. Tanner kicked it hard. “No good son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah,” Jacks agreed, “but he went out like a man. You got to give him that.”

  “I suppose,” Tanner allowed.

  Chasseur had gathered up all the money from the Brethren’s belongings into one saddlebag and now stood with Jacks. He looked at Doss and Zachary. “What about these fellers?”

  “Leave ’em go,” Jacks said. He grinned at the farmers. “Y’all have been on the owl hoot trail now, and you’ve seen what happens when you cross somebody. Any trouble outta you and we’ll come calling. It’d be bad news for your women and kids too.” He pointed to the surviving horses that belonged to the dead Brethren. The animals had been ridden hard and living on prairie grass making them lethargic and fatigued. “We’ll leave them horses for you. You two’d better get a couple before they wander off.”

  The five gunmen mounted up with their loot. After some more grins at the pair of discomfited sodbusters, they galloped northward across the prairie, leaving Doss and Zachary standing among the dead.

  “What’re we gonna do, Doss?” Zachary asked.

  “You shut your godamn mouth, you yeller-bellied little bastard!”

  “Aw, Doss, I was ascared as the dickens,” Zachary protested. “Honest I was. I didn’t want ’em to hang me.”

  “Well, hell’s fire, I didn’t want ’em to hang me either! But I sure didn’t try to make it tougher on the others.”

  Zachary hesitated. “If—I mean when—we get back, are you gonna stick to the story about Buford getting killed with Ed?”

  “Only for Nora Turnbull’s sake,” Doss replied. “And Elviry’s too.”

  Zachary pointed at Becky. “Are we gonna bury her?”

  “What with?” Doss snapped. “We cain’t dig into prairie sod with our bare hands.”

  “In that case I reckon we’d best head home. We’re the only two to make it.”

  “I’m going after that godamn cash money,” Doss said.

  “What?” Zachary cried.

  “I ain’t gonna lose my farm to that son of a bitch Treadwell. I want that godamn money. I want it!”

  “Are you crazy, Doss? Forget it!”

  “And you’re gonna help me, understand?”

  “The hell if I will!” Zachary protested.

  Doss grabbed him and slapped his face hard. “We’re gonna trail Lorimer Jacks and his friends and get that money. There’s been too damn many that died to just to ride away.”

  “Them gunmen’re prob’ly a long ways from here by now.”

  “I heard Jacks say they was going to a cabin somewhere to rest up a bit,” Doss said. “I’ll track ’em and find ’em, by God!”

  “You don’t know nothing about tracking,” Zachary said. “We’ll get lost.”

  “Then we’ll wander this godamn country ’til we starve.”

  Zachary was defiant. “I ain’t gonna go with you.”

  “Then I’ll kill you.”

  “All right. I’ll go.”

  Doss snarled, “You damn betcha you’ll go.”

  “And if we do find ’em how’re we gonna get the money back?”

  “I’ll worry about that after we catch up to ’em,” Doss said. “Now let’s pick out a coupla them horses that look stronger’n the rest. After that we can rummage through the brethren’s stuff and see if there’s any vittles we can tote with us. We’re gonna have to use their weapons too. Jacks and his pals didn’t take none with ’em. There’s some breech-loading carbines and Colt revolvers with plenty of ammunition. And don’t forget a coupla canteens.”

  “Doss, you’re plumb crazy!”

  “Now you listen to me, boy,” Doss growled. “If you so much as slow me down I’ll kill you as dead as the rest of the friends we’ve lost.”

  “Oh, Lord! I’ll never see Edna Lee again!”

  ~*~

  It was late afternoon when Doss dismounted to study the hoof marks in the ground. “Yeah, it’s them. No doubt.” He turned around and spotted Zachary about twenty yards behind. “You better hurry that horse up, boy!”

  “Doss, there ain’t no need to rush. If them gunmen was gonna split the money, they’ll be drinking and resting up. We got time to get there without pushing the horses.”

  “You stick close to me,” Doss said, pulling himself up into the saddle.

  He rode slowly, checking the ground as he did his best to follow the trail. After an hour he lost it. He cursed and rode the horse around the area for over forty minutes before he picked up the tracks a hundred or so yards away.

  Zachary was still hoping they’d give up the hunt. “Doss, you’re going crazy, you know that?”

  “Shut your mouth! If you cain’t track, just be still and foller me.”

  “It’ll be dark soon,” Zachary pointed out. “Then what’ll we do?”

  “We’ll settle in and wait for first light,” Doss said. “But we’re gonna make some distance before it’s too damn dark to see.”

  They finished out the rest of the evening still following sign left by Lorimer Jacks and his friends. Once, when it seemed the trail had surely petered out, Doss found an empty whiskey bottle. The scent of the liquor remnants was fresh and strong giving good indication that the five outlaws were travelling carelessly with the mistaken idea that no one was in pursuit.

  Doss fairly shouted his glee. “We’re gonna get them son of a bitches! Yes, sir-ee-bob!”

  When darkness settled in, Zachary wasted no time in rolling up in his blankets and going to sleep. Doss, on the other hand, fidgeted and fumed in wakeful vigor as he passed the night waiting for the rising sun when he could renew the task he had taken upon himself.

  ~*~

  At almost the exact moment the red dawn gave sign of the coming daylight, Doss kicked Zachary awake, pulling him to his feet. “Open them godamn eyes and act alive, boy. It’s time to be on the move again.”

  “Jesus, Doss! Gimme time to move around a little first, will you? And how about some coffee?”

  “To hell with coffee. After we get our hands on that cash money, we’ll drink all the godamn coffee in the world.”

  Zachary, now completely alarmed over Doss’ obsession, wisely kept his mouth shut as he saddled his horse. Within ten minutes the two began a repeat of the previous day’s activities.

  ~*~
r />   It was mid-morning when Doss stopped and sniffed the air. “Smoke!” He smelled again and check the ground. “The trail’s moving off to the east, see? Down into that draw. There’s a bunch of trees too. Let’s go. It might be somebody camping.”

  “Shit,” Zachary said. He checked the carbine he carried to make sure a round was chambered.

  Five minutes later they spotted the trail of smoke drifting up out of the trees in the windless air. “Ha!” Doss exclaimed. “That’s coming from a chimbly. There’s the hideout, boy, and that’s where we’ll find them greenbacks our friends died for.”

  They rode gingerly through the trees until finally spotting the cabin. Doss waited to make sure there was no one moving around outside the crude structure before he silently signaled Zachary to dismount and follow him.

  “This is gonna be pistol work,” Doss announced. “There’s five of ’em and we got a total of twelve shots between us.”

  “Oh, God, Doss! You’re getting to be a killed like Ben was.”

  Doss glared at him. “I am a killer. I don’t know how many times I fired my musket straight into ranks of Confederate soldiers charging our lines. I had a good reason to kill as many as I could ’cause they would sure as hell had kilt me if they could. And I got just as good a reason for killing here too.”

  They went up to the dwelling with their revolvers drawn, and Doss chanced a look through a window. Charlie Chasseur was lying on the bottom of the double bunk while Lorimer Jacks was on the top. Burly Tanner, Buck Krieger and Cole Bascomb were seated at a table talking and sipping whiskey. Doss could tell from their slurred voices they were drunk. That meant they’d been up all night drinking. No doubt Jacks and Chasseur were passed out cold.

  Doss motioned Zachary to come closer. “Listen. This is gonna be easy. They’re all drunk. I’ll jump through the door first and open fire at the three at the table. You come right behind me and shoot at the ones in the bunk. After that we’ll both go after whoever of ’em is still moving. Are you ready?”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, Doss!”

  “Are you ready, godamn you?”

  “Yeah. Oh, God!”

  Doss took a deep breath and went through the door. He fired three close-spaced shots at the three at the table. Krieger and Bascomb were knocked off their chairs, but Burly Tanner stood up and fired back. The bullet whipped past Doss’ head and he shot his fourth bullet into the gunman who collapsed across the table. Then Doss quickly raised his pistol and fired the last two bullets into Jacks and Chasseur, killing both as they slept in an alcohol-induced slumber.