by Bill Crider
Angel looked back and saw that the woman was riding hard toward the rocks, while that bastard Jephson was headed the other way. Angel had known all along that he couldn’t trust Jephson to do the right thing. He would have shot him right then, but he had to deal with the woman first.
He fired a shot but missed. The woman kept right on coming. Angel fired again, missed again. The woman didn’t even slow down.
“God damn,” he said, and then Ellie was on him.
She had her pistol drawn, but she hadn’t fired it. She knew she couldn’t shoot straight enough to hit anything while she was riding. So she simply headed her horse right at Angel’s mule and waited for the collision.
It didn’t come, because her horse veered off at the last second, giving Angel the chance to swing his pistol at her head and clip her just behind the ear as she passed by. She almost lost her grip on the reins and slumped forward over the saddle horn. Her horse kept going and was almost at once lost from sight in the trees.
Angel started to go after her and finish her off, but he decided to deal with Jephson first.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Angel said. “I told you to take care of that woman.”
“I don’t shoot women. And I don’t like bein’ around people who do.”
“Well, ain’t that too bad. What makes you feel so high and mighty all of a sudden?”
“It’s not sudden,” Jephson said. “I’ve just now got the gumption to tell you how I feel about things.”
Angel leveled his pistol on Jephson. “Then I guess I should let you know how I feel, too,” he said, and pulled the trigger.
Jephson started to go for his own gun, but it was far too late. The bullet from Angel’s Peacemaker tore through Jephson’s chest, smashed a chunk out of the left side of his heart, and went right on out his back.
Jephson sat in his saddle for a second, staring at Angel, eyes wide as if he couldn’t quite believe what had happened to him. Then his brain got the message that he was dead and he fell backward off the mule. He hit the ground and lay still.
“Never did trust the son of a bitch,” Angel said to no one in particular.
He looked around for the woman, but there was no sign of her. He thought he’d better find her. He knew he hadn’t hurt her too bad when he hit her with the pistol.
After he found the woman, he’d deal with Laurie. He didn’t think she’d be going very far.
Hoot looked down at Laurie. She was holding her hands over her mouth and staring up at him with frightened eyes.
“Hey,” Hoot said.
Laurie didn’t answer. She kept her hands clasped tightly over her mouth.
“All that shootin’s kinda scary, ain’t it,” Hoot said.
“I’m not scared,” Laurie said.
It wasn’t true. She was scared, all right. She was just as scared of Hoot as if he’d been the Headless Horseman. Maybe even more scared, since the Headless Horseman was just somebody in a story.
Hoot smiled down at her with that smile she didn’t like, not one bit.
“I’m glad you ain’t scared,” he said. “Because I wouldn’t want you to be scared of me. I’m the one’s gonna help you get out of this mess.”
Laurie dropped her hands. “How?”
“Well, Angel’s not here right now to boss me around, so I’m gonna do what I want to do instead of what he tells me. And what I want to do is get away from all this water. I don’t much like water, myself. What about you?”
“I like water just fine.”
Hoot’s smile faltered. He said, “All the same, we’re gettin’ out of here. I’ll just reach down and take your hand, and you can swing up behind me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Sure you are,” Hoot said. He showed her the shotgun. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be scattered all over these woods. See what I mean?”
Laurie saw what he meant. She felt like crying, but she didn’t. She told herself that she’d gotten away from Uncle Angel, and she could get away from Mr. Hoot, too.
So when he reached out his hand, she reached up and took it.
Hoot pulled her up behind him. “We’re gonna find us a nice dry place,” he said, “and then we’ll have us a mighty good time. You know what I mean?”
Laurie didn’t know. And she didn’t want to know.
That didn’t bother Hoot. He smiled and urged the mule forward.
THIRTY-FOUR
Brady Tolbert couldn’t get off the ground. He’d been shot twice, once in the leg and once in the shoulder, and all he could do was lie there and listen to the sound of guns going off.
In only a few seconds, it was quiet again, except for the sound of the rampaging river. He thought he could feel its power shuddering through the bank where he lay.
He had no idea what had happened to Ellie. Or to anyone else. He tried once again to get up, but the pain in his right leg was too intense.
There was another shot. Brady struggled, but he couldn’t stand. His horse was only a few yards away. He thought that if he could get the horse to come to him, he might be able to grab hold of a stirrup and pull himself up with one arm. Not his right arm, however. That one was more or less paralyzed from the shoulder down. It was hurting like hell, too. He couldn’t decide which hurt worse, the arm or the leg, but then he decided it didn’t make any difference. Maybe they both hurt about the same.
After a few minutes, he gathered his resources and managed to get himself into a sitting position. His shoulder didn’t seem to be bleeding too much, but he thought he’d better do something about his leg. He didn’t want to bleed to death. He pulled off his belt and tied it above the wound. It wasn’t easy, but he managed by using his left hand and his teeth.
The wound, to tell the truth, wasn’t bleeding as much as he’d feared. It seemed like he’d gotten off lucky. Just a few hunks of flesh torn away. Nothing that was going to kill him. It was just going to hurt enough to make him feel like it was killing him. But he could deal with that.
It had been a while, and there still hadn’t been any more shooting. Angel must have killed Ellie back in those rocks, Brady thought, and that made him feel even worse than his wounds. His vision blurred, and he felt suddenly dizzy. He almost let himself lie back down, but he didn’t. He stayed upright until the dizziness passed.
When it did, he called his horse, which looked at him with idle curiosity and then looked away. He called again, and tried whistling. The whistle came out like a long, low breath. His lips were too dry. He licked them and tried again. This time he got out a weak semblance of a whistle, and the horse’s ears perked up.
“Come on over here, you bay son of a bitch,” Brady said.
The horse looked at him for a while, then walked slowly over.
“I’m sorry I cussed you,” Brady said, reaching for the stirrup.
It took him a couple of minutes, but he managed to pull himself upright without biting through his bottom lip or passing out. He was sweating heavily, and he didn’t think he had much chance of getting into the saddle. But he had to try.
Maybe he’d better loosen the belt first. Didn’t want to get gangrene in his leg.
When he untied his makeshift tourniquet, he found that the bleeding had stopped. That was good news. He wished he had some whiskey to pour on the wound, but he didn’t.
To put his left foot in the stirrup, he’d have to stand on his right leg, which didn’t seem too likely. Well, it had to be done. If he hung onto the saddle horn, he wouldn’t have to put much weight on the leg. And if he moved really fast, maybe he could get in the saddle without fainting.
He took a deep breath, said, “Here we go,” and gave it a try.
Ellie had been momentarily stunned by the blow from Angel’s pistol, but her hat and her hair had protected her from any serious damage. She got control of her horse and reined him in just as she heard a pistol shot from Angel’s direction.
Tolbert? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. She kne
w he’d been shot. She didn’t think he’d be coming to help her.
She sat and listened. There were no more shots. She turned her horse and started cautiously back toward where she’d last seen Angel.
She wondered where Laurie was. She’d heard her call out, but for the second time that night, she hadn’t been able to do anything to help her. It was infuriating, although she knew it wasn’t her fault. Still, it made her feel bad.
As she looked for Angel, she tightened her grip on her pistol. She didn’t care whether she hit him or not; this time she was by God going to shoot him. Or at least shoot at him.
She listened but didn’t hear anyone coming in her direction, and she got a little careless. She hadn’t thought Angel might simply be waiting for her.
But as soon as she rode past a particularly large tree, she heard his voice behind her.
“You’ve sure been a powerful trouble to me, lady,” he said.
She turned as fast as she could and pulled the trigger of her Peacemaker twice.
The first shot ripped away about three inches of the trunk of the tree beside which Angel was sitting on his mule.
The second sent Angel’s hat flying backward into the darkness.
Angel was taken completely by surprise. He’d never met up with a woman like this one before, a woman who’d just start shooting at you without a word of warning. It was just the kind of thing he would have done. In fact, it was exactly what he should have done. But it sure wasn’t right for a woman to do it.
Ellie continued to pull the trigger. Her third shot took off the top of Angel’s mule’s left ear.
The mule jerked like a galvanized frog, then sprang forward at a dead run, or what passed for it. Angel was yanked backward, and when he straightened up, a tree limb almost took off his head. He ducked just in time, and when he looked up again he saw that he was headed straight for the river.
He hauled back hard on the reins, but the mule paid no attention. Drops of blood from its ear flew back and hit Angel in the face.
“Whoa, you hammer-headed bastard!” Angel yelled, but that didn’t help, either. Angel might as well have been trying to stop a runaway locomotive.
The mule hit the edge of the rushing water and managed to go two more steps before it was knocked off balance and went down. The current dragged it almost under, and Angel along with it. Angel let go of the reins and kicked his feet out of the stirrups to avoid being pulled down.
The cold river tumbled Angel over once or twice, and he lost his pistol and his hat. Water filled his eyes and nose, and he kicked hard to avoid the mule that was windmilling nearby. Then the mule shot off on down the river. Angel flailed his arms in an attempt to keep his head above water.
He succeeded, but his head made a tempting target. Ellie shot at it. The bullet hit the water well to Angel’s right.
Ellie shot again. This time the bullet hit a bit closer, but Angel was being pulled downstream so quickly that he was out of range before she could reload and take another shot.
The water was full of sticks and limbs, but not a one that would do him any good. They were all too small.
Except for the tree trunk that was bearing down on him atop the white foam that glistened in the scant moonlight.
Angel banged off a rock and almost went under again. The log didn’t hit the rock and didn’t slow down. It was heading straight for Angel’s head.
Ellie watched from the edge of the river as the water carried Angel farther and farther away. If it hadn’t been for his nearly white hair, his head would have been just a distant black blob on the even blacker water.
It appeared to Ellie that the log was going to strike him, and she was angered that he was escaping her. She should have been the one to punish him for what he’d done to Lane and Sue and Laurie.
But when his head disappeared in front of the log, she told herself that she was no better than he was, that she was interested only in getting back at the one who’d hurt her. She knew that doing so wouldn’t really matter in the long run.
What mattered was Laurie, and Ellie had to find her.
THIRTY-FIVE
Hoot heard the distant pistol shots and laughed. He was feeling good. No one was shooting at him. He had the girl, he was well away from the river, and he was going back to the church house to get dry.
He knew there might still be someone in the church, but that didn’t bother him. He figured they were all shot up, or, if they weren’t, they would be as soon as he got there. He patted the sawed-off shotgun. There wasn’t anybody who could stand up against that, no matter who they were.
And he had the girl. He liked her a lot. She was spunky and cute, and she made him think about things he hadn’t much considered since he got out of prison. The other three men—Jephson, Angel, and Abilene Jack Sturdivant—had got them a whore as soon as they could, but Hoot hadn’t been interested. He couldn’t really say why. But he was interested now, all right. Had been, ever since he’d seen the girl.
He couldn’t do anything about her with Angel around, not with Angel acting like he was her daddy, but Angel was behind Hoot now, and Hoot was just as glad he was. He had no idea what was happening to Angel, and he didn’t give a damn. Hoot had been getting pretty tired of the way Angel was ordering him around, even telling him not to cuss in front of the girl.
“Shit,” he said aloud. “I can cuss anytime I want to. Nobody can tell me not to. Ain’t that right, Laurie.”
There was no answer, and Hoot said, “Laurie. That’s your name, ain’t it, honey? Speak up, now.”
Laurie’s voice was low. “That’s my name.”
“That’s right. I knew it was, so you’d just as well own up to it. You like old Hoot, don’t you?”
Laurie didn’t say anything.
Hoot laughed. He said, “You’re a shy one, ain’t you? But that don’t bother me, not one little bit. I like a girl that ain’t too outspoken. It’s not becomin’ for a girl to talk too much.”
Laurie didn’t respond.
Hoot wasn’t bothered. Let her keep quiet. That was all to the good as far as he was concerned. He could carry on a conversation with no one at all if he had to.
“We’re goin’ back to that church,” he said. “You’ll like it there this time. You’ll see.”
“Miss Ellie won’t let you do anything to me,” Laurie said. “My daddy won’t, either.”
“I can’t say for sure about Miss Ellie, but I wouldn’t be expectin’ any help from her if I was you. I imagine a couple of those shots we heard back there put paid to her bill, if you take my meanin’.”
“You’re just like Uncle Angel. You think you know everything. But you don’t know Miss Ellie. She won’t let anything happen to me, and neither will my daddy.”
“Your daddy’s dead as a doornail back there at that ranch,” Hoot said. “And Angel’s most likely filled your Miss Ellie full of lead. You can forget about them.”
Laurie opened her mouth, but no words came out. She felt hot tears in her eyes.
I’m not going to cry, she told herself. I’m going to get away, just like I got away from Uncle Angel, and Miss Ellie will come for me.
Hoot started to sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
Laurie had been taught that Jesus loved everyone. For the first time, she wondered if that was really true. She didn’t see how anyone could love Hoot, not even Jesus.
Brady Tolbert saw the rider coming out from the rocks, and he knew at once it was Ellie Taine, unless Angel had killed her and traded his mule for her horse.
But that hadn’t happened. It was Ellie, all right, and she looked at him with concern as she came up to him.
“I thought you were killed,” she said.
“I almost am, but I’ll live. And I can ride.” He didn’t bother to mention how much he was hurting and how much he just wanted to find a place where he could lie down and go to sleep. “What happened in there?”
“I lost Laurie. I shot the ear off Angel’s mule, and the mule too
k off into the river.”
“That’s mighty good shooting.”
Ellie smiled. “I didn’t mean to shoot the ear off. I was shooting at Angel.”
“I guess you don’t shoot as good as I thought, then.”
“I don’t shoot so well at all. Sometimes I can hit what I aim at, though.”
“I’ll bet you can. What happened to Angel in the river?”
“I hope he drowned. The mule pitched him off, and it looked like a big log hit him square in the head. I didn’t see him again after that.”
“Maybe we won’t have to worry about him, then. What about Laurie?”
“She must’ve gotten away from Angel. She might be back in the trees, but I called for her and didn’t get an answer.”
“There were two other men with Angel.”
“There’s only one now. The other one’s back there on the ground.”
“You get him?”
“No. I think it must’ve been Angel.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Brady said. “He’s mean enough to kill his own partners, that’s for sure. Which one was it?”
“It looked like the one called Jephson.”
“Which means Hoot’s still around. You think he has Laurie?”
“Yes.” Ellie’s voice shook just the slightest bit. “But I don’t know which way he’s headed.”
“We’ll find out.”
“How?”
“Well,” Brady said, “I figure that if Jephson’s dead back in the rocks, then Hoot must be the one who shot me from those trees. That’s where we’ll start.”
They rode over to the trees. Every step that Brady’s horse took caused pain to lance through his leg and shoulder. He gritted his teeth and tried to smile. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
They found where Hoot’s horse had stood. It wasn’t hard to follow him from there, even in the dark. He wasn’t being careful, and he’d broken limbs when they got in his way. It wasn’t long before they located the place where Hoot had found Laurie.
“Look here,” Brady said through clenched teeth. “I believe he’s turned around and headed back.”
