“You’ll go out now,” Jesse said.
Clint looked down at his empty plate and his empty cup. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll go now.”
“And I’ll have more breakfast,” Jesse said, holding his plate out to Evie. “If I’m gonna stay here and recover, I’ll need to eat more.”
She took the plate, filled it, and handed it back.
Clint picked up his rifle and went off to find some tracks.
FORTY-TWO
When he returned a couple of hours later he was happy to see that Jesse was asleep, and Evie was alert. She was holding her rifle ready as he entered the camp.
“You can lower the rifle now,” he said.
“I just . . . heard something . . . didn’t know it was you.”
“Well, you do, now.” He got himself some coffee, hunkered down by the fire. “How is he?”
“He’s been asleep since you left,” she said. “What did you find?”
He drank down some hot coffee, then said, “We won’t have to worry about that fellow Cole West coming back.”
“Why not?”
He told her . . .
When Clint had left camp he quickly located the tracks left by the family of wolves. As he followed them, though, they suddenly intersected with tracks being left by a man on a horse.
The wolves continued to trail the horse when suddenly the tracks mixed, and Clint saw drops of blood in the snow. From there he followed the tracks and the blood. He assumed someone had been injured—either the wolves had injured the man or the man had injured one of the wolves—and then they continued on.
He kept his gun ready and remained alert in case a wolf came at him from another direction, but eventually he found something,
A horse.
The animal was breathing nervously while blood leaked from the saddle. The animal didn’t look injured, but the smell of blood kept it skittish. Clint approached, spoke to it, and eventually was able to pat its neck and calm it down. He went through the saddlebags and found a letter addressed to Cole West.
If the animal was here that meant that its owner, West, was on foot. And if he was on foot he was as good as dead. Clint removed the saddle and tossed it away, so the horse would not continue to smell blood. If he let the horse loose it might run into the wolves, or it might make its way back to Wolf Creek. He decided to cut the animal loose. After all, it was a mustang.
Once the horse ran off Clint continued to track the man. He was on foot, leaking blood, and being followed by the wolves.
Eventually he came to a section of snow that was soaked with blood, then what looked like a trail left by a man dragging himself. Ultimately, he found the man, lying in the center of a pool of bloody snow. His throat had been torn out, and there were several other wounds. It looked as if the whole pack—father, mother, and pups—now had a taste for blood . . .
“Did you bury him?”
“No,” Clint said, “I didn’t want to take the time.”
“Why?”
“I think we should get moving.”
“But you said Jesse should rest.”
“I know, but we’ve got a family of wolves that have tasted blood. I don’t think they’re going to go away. Not while we’re here.”
“Yeah, but three of them are pups.”
“Evie, what you call pups are probably just smaller wolves. The father or mother will probably take the prey down, but then those pups will be on it. On us, if we wait around for them.”
“B-but, that’s . . .”
“I’m going to wake Jesse and see if we can get him on his horse,” Clint said. “You get yours and his saddled. Douse the fire, first.”
Clint went to Jesse while Evie poured the remnants of the coffee on the fire, then kicked snow on it.
“Wha—” Jesse said, coming awake.
“How you feeling, Jesse?” Clint asked.
“Stiff,” he said. “I think yer probably right about waitin’ another day—”
“Yeah, I was, but I changed my mind.”
He told Jesse about finding Cole West dead, just about devoured by the entire family of wolves.
“Those wolves are hungry,” Jesse said, “and those pups were a decent size—like a big dog. Yer probably right about movin’ now. Just help me get on my horse.”
They got the horses saddled, and then Clint boosted Jesse up onto his gray. He handed Jesse his Sharps.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’m gonna fall off,” Jesse said.
“You won’t fall off,” Clint said confidently.
He mounted up, rode up alongside Evie. “Let’s keep him between us,” he said to her in a low voice, “just in case he starts to fall off.”
FORTY-THREE
Clint knew they wouldn’t get back to Wolf Creek that day. They had broken camp and left too late. But maybe they could put some distance between themselves and the wolves.
But they soon knew that wasn’t going to happen.
When they heard the howl, they stopped.
“They’re followin’ us,” Jesse said.
“How do you know?” Evie asked.
“I can feel it,” he said, “and that sound is right behind us.”
“They followed West until they got him,” Clint said. “There was blood all over his saddle. The wolf took him right off the horse’s back.”
“They’re gonna come for us, Clint,” Jesse said.
“They?” Evie asked.
Jesse nodded.
“Yeah, the whole family of wolves.”
“The pups?”
“You didn’t see the pups, Evie,” Jesse said. “They’re already the size of big dogs.”
“I thought—”
“Yeah,” Jesse said, “you thought they were babies.”
She swallowed nervously.
“So we have five wolves tracking us?”
“They probably already have us surrounded,” Jesse said.
“So what do we do?” she asked.
“We find a clearin’ somewhere and make a stand,” Jesse said.
“Okay,” Clint said. “Let’s hope we find one before they strike.”
They did. They found it just up ahead, only it already had bodies in it.
“My God!” Evie said.
“These men must have been with West,” Clint said. “There was four of them. You got one, Jesse, and the wolves got the other three.”
“This is already a killing ground,” Jesse said. “Let’s do it here.”
“We have to stay here?” Evie asked. “With all this blood?”
“It’ll attract them,” Jesse said, “excite them even more.”
There was another howl.
“That’s the female,” Jesse said. “They’re getting ready. We better dismount.”
“Aren’t we easy prey on foot?” she asked.
“We’re not gonna be easy prey, Evie,” Jesse said. “We’re gonna be waitin’ for them, but we gotta let the horses and the mules go so they can defend themselves, if need be.”
Clint and Evie dismounted, then helped Jesse out of his saddle.
“I better get on my knees,” Jesse said. “So I don’t keel over.”
Clint slapped the horses on the rump, the mule a little harder to get it going. It wouldn’t go far, not with the supplies on its back. Eclipse would not go far, either. Clint knew he should have unsaddled them and unpacked the mule, but he didn’t think they had time. Jesse said the wolves were tightening the circle.
“They think we’re easy prey,” he said. “They think they’ve herded us here.”
“Let’s all get on our knees, back to back,” Clint said. “Guns ready.”
Jesse opened his skins so he could get to his pistol. Evie held her rifle ready. Clint had his rifle close, but when they came he would use his Colt. He’d use the rifle to finish them.
“Will they come before dark?” Evie asked
“I hope so,” Jesse said. “If not, we’ll have to b
uild a fire.”
“Won’t that keep them away?” Evie asked.
“Not these wolves,” he said. “Not the white one.”
They heard movement in the trees and bushes around them.
“They’re circlin’,” Jesse said, cocking the hammer on his Sharps. “They’re comin’. I want one shot at that white.”
“Clint . . .” Evie said.
“Don’t let the size of the wolf affect you, Evie,” he said. “It’ll tear your throat out if it gets a chance. Just shoot when they come in.”
“Okay, I will,” she said nervously.
“You’ll be fine, Evie,” he assured her.
It started to get dark and they were beginning to think they might have to build a fire.
And then they came.
There was a howl, very long, and Jesse said, “That’s the male. They’re comin’. Get ready!”
Clint kept his eyes open, his hand on his gun. He had to concentrate on what was happening in front of him, not behind him. Jesse and Evie were on their own.
A big gray wolf appeared from the brush and came straight for him. Her eyes glittered, muzzle wet with saliva dripping down. Behind her came two smaller wolves.
They came fast!
He drew his gun.
Evie also saw a gray wolf break from the brush and come at her. She saw what Jesse meant. This one was the size of a big dog. But it had evil eyes, unlike any dog she’d ever seen.
And its muzzle was still red with blood.
She raised her rifle.
The white came for Jesse.
It had blood on its muzzle, and in patches on its white coat. Jesse thought one of those patches was an actual wound.
He raised his Sharps.
Clint drew and hired. A bullet hit the female, but she kept coming. He fired again. She screamed and went down. Behind her the two pups howled, but when Clint’s shots hit them they screamed instead, and went down.
Evie hesitated, and it almost cost her. The wolf leapt and was in the air when she fired. Her bullet hit it in the chest. Its leap carried it into her, but when it collided with her, it was already dead.
The white wolf was a magnificent beast, Jesse thought, as he pulled the trigger of his Sharps. A .50-caliber hunk of lead had struck the wolf in his white chest. It was as if the animal’s chest exploded, and the impact of the slug flung it back. It landed hard, adding blood to the already red snow.
“Everybody okay?” Clint asked.
Evie flung the carcass of the dead wolf away from her and said, “Yes.”
“Okay,” Jesse said. “I got the white.”
“I got a pup,” Evie said.
“The mother and two pups,” Clint said.
He stood up and walked to the fallen white to check it.
“Dead,” he said.
“Hell yes, it’s dead,” Jesse said, reloading his Sharps.
They all stood and looked around. Eclipse was right at the edge of the clearing, waiting for Clint.
“I’ll get the horses and the mule,” he said. “Time to go back.”
Watch for
THE DEAD RINGER
357th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in September!
Hunt for the White Wolf Page 11
