Righteous Kill

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Shouldn’t we get as far away as possible?”

  “They’ll think that. We’ll hide right underneath their noses, and they won’t even know it,” Joseph bragged.

  TWO MILES SOUTH OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  It took Billy a while to get his horse under control, and when he finally did, the blood loss was bringing on a state of vertigo. Seeing his blood-soaked shirt, he knew that the amount of blood he’d lost would soon lead to unconsciousness. He was in need of medical attention and quickly because what followed unconsciousness would be death.

  He forced himself to sit tall in the saddle and scanned the area. In the distance he spotted a lone farmhouse with a single barn. “Let’s go, boy,” he said, nudging the horse forward.

  He slowly trotted down the driveway.

  The door of the house flew open, and out stepped Maggie with her shotgun in her hands. “Stop right there!”

  “Please, I’m a United States Marshal and in need of help,” Billy urged.

  “I don’t give a damn who you say you are. Just hold it right there,” Maggie barked.

  Billy raised a blood-covered hand and said, “Ma’am, I’ve been shot. I’m badly hurt and fear death may soon find me if I’m not attended to right away.” He gasped after his long statement and lowered his weary head.

  “Just turn your damn horse around and find somewhere else to go,” Maggie hollered.

  From her bedroom window, Alice watched. She noticed Billy seemed genuinely hurt, but after what had happened just days before, she didn’t trust it.

  Anne stepped out of the house and gave Billy a careful glance. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Don’t talk to him like that, Ma,” Maggie seethed.

  “The boy looks hurt,” Anne replied.

  “My name is William Connolly, ma’am; I’m a deputy marshal. Please help me, my partner and I were ambushed not far from here. I fear he’s dead, and I’ll soon be if I’m not seen to,” Billy said. He again gasped from the long reply.

  “Where are you from, William Connolly?” Anne asked.

  “Idaho, ma’am.”

  “Whereabouts in Idaho?”

  “Why all the questions, Ma?” Maggie asked, the double barrels leveled at Billy, who sat in his saddle, wavering back and forth.

  “Wallace, ma’am,” Billy answered.

  “What are you doing in Montana?” Anne asked.

  “Damn it, Ma, stop asking him questions. He needs to go on about his business,” Maggie said.

  “The boy looks like he needs help, and if we can help him, we will. I know your animosity toward men, but we both know they’re not all bad,” Anne growled.

  “Ma’am, I appreciate all the questions. I know you don’t trust me, but I’m telling the truth. I’ve been shot twice, and my partner is probably dead. Please, I beg you, help,” Billy pleaded.

  “Answer the question,” Anne insisted.

  “We were escorting…” Billy said but stopped when he was overcome with an uncontrollable cough.

  “Just get, go down the road a few miles. The Hamptons are a welcoming family; they’ll give you aid,” Maggie said.

  “Ma’am, I don’t think I—” Billy replied. He slouched forward and fell out of the saddle and onto the hard ground, followed by his horse collapsing from the wound it had received in the side.

  “Damn!” Maggie shouted.

  Anne slowly began to move towards Billy.

  The door erupted open and out came Alice. She raced past Anne and towards Billy. Reaching him, she knelt and examined his wounds, to find he had been truthful. Turning back, she hollered, “He’s hurt badly.”

  Shaking her head, Maggie groaned, “Fine, bring him inside.”

  “But I need help, Ma,” Alice said.

  “Damn fool woman,” Maggie complained. She put her shotgun down and hurried to Alice. “I’ll take his arms; you grab his legs.”

  “Okay, Ma,” Alice said.

  The two picked him up and carried him towards the house.

  Anne opened the door, giving them a clear shot inside the house.

  “Put him on the kitchen table,” Maggie said.

  “What about the couch?” Alice asked.

  “I ain’t about to have some stranger’s blood soil and stain that couch. Your pa gave that to me,” Maggie said.

  “Just listen to your ma,” Anne said.

  They put Billy on the table.

  Alice looked down at Billy’s ashen face and said, “Will he die?”

  “I don’t know, but if you don’t want him to, you’ll need to do everything I ask,” Maggie said.

  “Yes, Ma,” Alice said, nodding.

  Maggie ran through a small list of items she needed.

  Alice raced off to get them.

  With Alice out of the room, Maggie leaned close to Billy and said, “Boy, if you’re lyin’, I’ll kill you myself, you hear me?”

  “I don’t think he can,” Anne said.

  “You’re my witness. If he does one thing, I’ll end him,” Maggie said.

  “Just help the poor lad. You can see he’s truly hurt,” Anne said.

  Blood began to pool on the table and drip off the edge.

  Alice reappeared with the items minus one. “I need to get a pot of water boiling.”

  “Hurry up about it, then,” Maggie said. She put her attention back on Billy, grabbed hold of his shirt, and tore it open. “Now let’s see how bad you are.”

  SIX MILES SOUTHWEST OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  Joseph patched Al up as best he could and let him lie in front of a fire he’d made inside the small dirt-floor cabin. It didn’t take Al but a minute to fall fast asleep.

  With Al taken care of, Joseph sat down and sorted through a basket he’d found on a table in the cabin. His eyes widened with joy as he discovered jerky and a couple of apples. “My lucky day, I love apples. What about you?” he asked the young boy who sat opposite him, next to the front door, his legs pulled up close to his chest and a look of terror on his small chubby face. “You’re a quiet one, huh?”

  The boy remained silent, his eyes fixed on the deathly stares of his parents lying dead across the room in a pool of blood.

  Joseph had arrived at the cabin, found it occupied, but that never stopped him. He quickly laid waste to the parents, but his code wouldn’t allow him to harm children. He gave a glance over to the dead bodies and smirked. “It’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

  The boy sat silent.

  “Oh, alright,” Joseph said, getting to his feet. He found a blanket folded in a trunk and tossed it over the bodies. “Does that help?”

  Tears streamed down the boy’s face. He was about six years old and had never experienced such brutality and savagery until Joseph made his appearance.

  “Listen, boy, get a good cry out, then give it a rest. When I lay my head down to get some sleep, you’d best be done with your sniveling,” Joseph said before taking a large bite of the apple. Juice glistened on his beard. “Where did your ma get these apples? They’re damn good.”

  “Why?” the boy asked.

  “Why what?” Joseph asked. He saw the boy was looking at the blanket and said, “Oh, that. Listen, you were going to grow up anyways and hate them. You see, it’s natural for children to reach a certain age then hate their parents.”

  “Will you kill me?” the boy asked.

  “Nah, I don’t kill children, but if you give me any grief, I’m not opposed to disciplining you harshly. I’ve got a nice thick belt and don’t mind using it. Are you going to be giving me any grief?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “Good,” Joseph said. “What’s your name?”

  “Adam.”

  “Hmm, my name is Joseph, and don’t think you can call me Joe. I’m not a fan of that.”

  “Was he shot?” the boy asked, pointing to Al.

  “Yep, got shot in the gut,” Joseph replied, taking his last bite. He tossed the apple core into the flames. “Tell me, Adam, do
neighbors stop by here much?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Anyone else I should be expecting? Best you tell me ’cause it will save their lives. If you lie and someone comes here, I’ll end their lives like I did your parents’,” Joseph threatened. “I’ll ask you again, anyone coming around here?”

  Adam shook his head and said, “No, sir.”

  Joseph looked around the single-room cabin. If one were to walk through the front door, they’d look left and see the fireplace against the wall. Directly in front of them sat a table; this not only served as the central location for the family to eat but literally served as the central location for anything that happened in the house. The only chairs in the cabin were around it, and they totaled five. Behind the table on the opposite wall was a small window, where a thin white sheet hung, no doubt used more for privacy than anything. This was where Joseph was sitting, just below the window, with a clear view of the door. To the right, a small cot, just big enough to barely hold two adults, was shoved in the corner. “Where do you sleep?” Joseph asked, noticing only the cot and no other bed.

  Adam pointed to a corner near the fireplace. There, stacked up, was a small pillow and some folded clothes.

  “You sleep there, next to where Al is lying?”

  Adam nodded.

  “Well, it’s a good thing your parents didn’t have any more children.” Joseph chuckled. “If you want, you can go lie down.” Joseph took a piece of jerky and bit off a large chunk. As he chewed, a bit got stuck in between two molars he’d been having trouble with. “Ouch,” he bellowed. He rubbed his jaw and scowled. “I need to get that tooth yanked out.” He caught sight of a book near the pillow where Adam said he slept and asked, “What’s that book there?”

  “Moby-Dick,” Adam answered.

  “You read? I managed to read myself. How about you read me a chapter or so?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Go ahead, get the book and read to me,” Joseph insisted.

  “I don’t want to,” Adam said.

  Joseph’s demeanor grew stern and he growled, “Get the damn book, boy, and read.”

  Adam hopped up, scurried over, and took the book. He went back to his spot near the door and sat.

  “Read whatever you like. I’m going to try to rest a bit,” Joseph said, leaning back and tipping his hat to cover his eyes.

  Adam opened the book and thumbed through the brittle pages. He stopped on a word he could read and said, “The.” He paused and began to cry.

  Hearing Adam’s sobs, Joseph seethed, “Stop crying, boy, and read.”

  “The men,” Adam said and again stopped to cry loudly.

  Lifting his hat, Joseph barked, “Boy, if you wake my friend, I’ll give you a good beatin’.”

  Adam lowered the book and sobbed louder.

  “Shut it,” Joseph growled.

  Heeding Joseph’s order, Adam choked back his tears and mumbled, “Sorry.” He wiped his face with his hands and sat staring down at the open book.

  “Read,” Joseph ordered.

  “I can’t,” Adam whined.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Boy, you have nothing to be afraid of; I don’t kill children. You could say it’s a code I live by, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “But you said you’d hurt me,” Adam said, sniffling.

  “I will, but I won’t kill ya. Just don’t do anything that would lead to gettin’ hurt and you’ll be fine. Now, open the damn book and read me a chapter,” Joseph barked.

  Adam opened the book again and began to recite what words he did know, making the reading choppy.

  Joseph sighed and said, “You don’t know how to read, do ya?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then why do you have that book over near your things?”

  Adam faced the open book towards Joseph and pointed at the sketch of Captain Ahab on the inside flap.

  “Oh, I see, you look at the pictures,” Joseph said.

  “I can read some, but my…” Adam said before pausing.

  “Your what?”

  “Do I have to read?”

  “I suppose not, but I do need you to come here,” Joseph said.

  Adam lowered the book and gulped.

  “Come here,” Joseph ordered.

  Adam shook his head and a look of terror spread across his face.

  “I told you I’m not going to kill you, and I have no reason to hurt you. Now come here,” Joseph said.

  Putting the book on the floor, Adam slowly rose and timidly walked over to Joseph. He stopped just outside arm’s length away and kept his head down.

  “Closer,” Joseph said.

  Shuffling his feet, Adam moved closer.

  When he could reach him, Joseph grabbed him forcibly and pulled him close. “I said come here.”

  “Please, no, don’t hurt me,” Adam pleaded.

  “I’m not, I’m just gonna tie you up so you don’t run off,” Joseph said, taking some of the extra cloth bandages he had and using them to secure Adam’s wrists and ankles together. He tied the last knot and said, “Now hop your ass back over there and sit down.”

  Adam did as Joseph said. As he lowered himself back down, a sense of relief filled him that he hadn’t been hurt.

  Joseph chuckled at how the boy was acting. He was sadistic in how he treated people and was taking joy from the fact he scared Adam. Feeling a heavy fatigue wash over him, he tipped his hat forward and leaned back against the wall. A few hours of sleep would be beneficial; then he’d think about his next move.

  Adam sat still, his gaze fixed on Joseph. A shadow in the window above Joseph caught his attention. He stared until he spotted who he suspected it was: his brother, Clive.

  Clive was four years older than Adam and had been out hunting when Joseph and Al arrived. He returned to see the horse, and instead of going into the cabin, he thought to peer into the window. What he didn’t expect to see was Adam tied up and his parents lying dead on the floor.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JULY 13, 1895

  TWO MILES SOUTH OF GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  The initial sounds Billy heard were voices. They were muted at first, but as he began to wake, they grew louder. He opened his eyes, but the bright light of the early morning hurt his eyes, forcing him to close them.

  The voices stopped.

  “Where am I?” Billy asked, his eyes still pressed closed.

  “Are you Deputy US Marshal Connolly?” Amherst asked.

  Billy tried to open his eyes again, this time doing so slowly. He blinked repeatedly until his vision became clear. He glanced at the unfamiliar faces and asked, “Where am I?”

  “Son, answer my question. Are you—?”

  “I am and who are you?” Billy asked.

  “I’m the Cascade County sheriff,” Amherst said.

  “Sheriff, I’m glad to see you. I need your help,” Billy said. He went to sit up but was stopped when a jolt of pain similar to an electric shock shot through his body. He lay back down and said, “My partner, Marshal Hemsworth, I need to find him.”

  “Son, I have some bad news,” Amherst said. “Your partner is dead.”

  The pain of hearing what he feared was true was worse than anything he’d ever dealt with since hearing his father had died. Tears wet his eyes, but he stopped short of crying. He wanted revenge, and if he were to get it, he’d have to remove any sort of emotion. “Have you found Al?”

  “Who?” Amherst asked.

  “Our prisoner, he goes by the name Two-faced Bob, but his real name is Alfred Cummins.”

  “I’m not sure. We found two other bodies, and one of them could be Two-faced Bob. When you’re well enough, you should come to town. We have the bodies on ice. Can you describe the men who attacked you?”

  Billy looked at Amherst and asked, “Can someone help prop me up?”

  Standing in the back of the room were Maggie, Anne and Alice. Upon hearing B
illy needed help, Alice sprang into action and came forward. She took a spare pillow, and as she helped lift him up, she shoved the pillow behind him. “There you go,” she said.

  Billy replied, “Thank you.” He caught a good look at her and paused. He was instantly captivated by her beauty.

  “Will there be anything else?” Alice asked.

  Staring at her, he was lost in her blue eyes.

  “Sir, anything else?” Alice asked.

  “Ah, no, no, I’m fine. That was what I needed,” he said, finding himself to be instantly nervous.

  She gave him a pleasant smile, gently touched his shoulder, and said, “Please call on me if you need anything.”

  “I will,” Billy said.

  “Alice Marie, you get back over here,” Maggie said in a scolding tone.

  Alice gave Billy one more gleaming look and walked off.

  “Deputy Marshal Connolly, can you please describe the men who attacked you and your partner?” Amherst asked.

  “There were three of them,” Billy said. “One was a very tall man, I could tell by how high he sat in the saddle. He had black hair and snarled when he talked. The other men were shorter, one was rounder in the waist, and the other, well, he seemed more timid, scared, you could say.”

  “I appreciate the description of their demeanor, but can you describe their appearance?” Amherst asked.

  Billy pressed his eyes closed and thought. “I never saw them standing, only on horseback. I can only assume the others were shorter, but they appeared to be maybe shorter than six feet, but one man, the tall one, he was clearly well over six feet.”

  Alice recalled the man who had attacked her, Joseph, standing tall. “I think that’s the man who attacked me.”

  “Alice, don’t interrupt the sheriff,” Maggie said.

  Amherst glanced over his shoulder and said, “Alice, now’s not the time.”

  “How do you know those aren’t the men? First we get attacked, now those marshals. Attacks like these aren’t everyday events. I think they could be related.”

  “You were attacked?” Billy asked Alice.

  “About three days before you arrived. Ma turned them away; they returned and—”