by Jack Martin
Instinctively Bill dived for the ground and rolled himself towards the riders, spooking their horses so they wouldn’t be able to get off a clean shot at him. At the same time, while he rolled in the dirt he cleared leather and shot into the melee of panicked horses and cursing riders. As soon as he was able to get to his feet he did so, and, sending off several shots over his shoulder he ducked besides the hotel. A slug splintered the wood of the hotel wall as he disappeared from view. He’d felt the thing whistle past his head missing him by the length of a gnat’s whisker.
Bill was confused as to what had happened. He knew Caleb had sent off a wild shot but after that it was all a blur. He had seen the old man go down. There could be no mistake of that since a good portion of his head and splattered the side of Bill’s face. But as to the fate of Dutch and the kid, Bill was not so sure. He heard gunfire so obviously someone was fighting back.
Hugging the wall of the building with his back, a Colt in each hand, he was just about to look around the building when one of the riders appeared around the corner. The rider saw Bill and went for his rifle but the Welshman was quicker and the rider took a slug dead centre of his chest and fell from his saddle. His horse bolted in Bill’s direction and Bill leapt in front of the creature, held his hands up and managed to stop it.
He pulled himself into the saddle.
Bill sent the terrified animal into a gallop, heading around to the front of the hotel. He fired off at random and saw another of Stanton’s men blown out of the saddle. It was chaos and no one seemed at all sure whom they were shooting at. Bill noticed the kid crouched by the livery stable. He seemed to be holding off Stanton’s men all on his lonesome. The kid waved when he saw Bill and then shot, taking one of the riders clean between the eyes. The man’s head slung back, crimson spraying in the air while his horse bolted with the dead man hanging from the saddle.
Bill made for the kid, keeping low in the saddle while hot lead screamed all around him. As soon as he reached the livery stable he pulled on the reins and dove from the saddle, using his startled horse as cover while he slid across the ground, the dirt puffing up around him as slugs tore into it. As soon as it was able to the horse galloped out of the mains street, which had now become a war zone.
‘Come on,’ the kid shouted. ‘I’ll cover you.’ The kid fired several times in quick succession and then ducked back down behind the livery stable, before immediately remerging and firing again in quick succession.
Bill didn’t need telling twice and taking a deep breath and praying to some ancient Welsh deity he made for the livery stable.
‘We’ve got us a fight at last,’ the kid said, seemingly delighted with the situation. ‘Did you see that? I got Clemens.’
Bill stared at the kid, incredulously. Sam was dead, of that much was certain and Dutch’s fate was still unknown, and yet the kid couldn’t have been happier. The likelihood was that they could be killed at any moment and the kid was, for want of a better word, enjoying it.
‘How many left out there?’ Bill asked and filled the chambers of both of his Colts.
‘Search me,’ the kid said and peered around the corner of the building. He fired again. ‘That’s one less,’ he said with a smile.
‘Where’s Dutch?’
‘He’s alive,’ the kid said. ‘But he sure ain’t moving much.’
Bill lay down on his stomach and peered around the corner of the building. He could see Dutch lying on the boardwalk outside the hotel. There was a pool of blood around his head that was visible even to Bill and the man was almost perfectly still but for a twitching in one of his legs. He was still alive, but had lost a lot of blood and Bill knew that if he didn’t get medical attention soon he would perish. Bill couldn’t see any of Stanton’s men but he knew they were out there somewhere. They had now all taken cover and their horses had scattered. There were maybe six men dead in the street.
‘We’ve got to get to him,’ Bill said, peering around the side of the stable. He had to quickly pull himself back behind the building when lead once again heated up the air.
‘We’re pinned down,’ the kid said and once more peered around the side of the building. He spotted a man with a rifle in the top window and he took aim and fired. The shot was true and the man fell forward, out of the window and onto the ground below. A furious barrage answered the shot and the kid had to quickly duck back for cover.
Large chunks were torn out of the livery stable wall.
Bill took another look around the building. If he could make it across the street and get to Dutch he figured he could drag him into the hotel and make a stand from there. The trouble was he would present an easy target as he ran for the hotel.
There was no other way, though.
He couldn’t just leave Dutch there.
He tried to place all of Stanton’s men but it was impossible as they were keeping themselves out of sight. There were maybe six or seven men dead in the street and that included Sam, so by Bill’s calculations that meant that there were at least fifteen men remaining out there including Caleb Stanton.
‘I’m going to have to try,’ he said and pulled himself back under cover.
‘That’s crazy,’
‘Aye,’ Bill said. ‘My da always said I was twp.’
The kid looked around them for a moment. ‘If I break cover,’ he said. ‘Draw their fire you may be able to pick a couple of them off. The more men we get the better the chance of getting to Dutch.’
It made sense but Bill thought it too much of a risk. ‘What you got in mind?’ he asked.
‘See the well,’ the kid pointed to town well, which was situated some fifteen feet away. ‘I reckon I can get to that if I move quick enough. There’s cover there.’
Bill nodded.
‘You need to be ready,’ the kid said. ‘They’re gonna’ open fire immediately and you’ll need to get as many as you can. I’ll stay by the well a few minutes and then break cover again and run back here. They won’t expect that.’
Again Bill nodded. He once again checked his Colts and got into a crouching position so he would be able to move as soon as the kid did.
‘I’ll go on three,’ the kid said and filled the chamber of his own gun.
Again Bill nodded and mouthed a silent prayer.
‘One,’ the kid said.
Bill crossed himself.
‘Two,’ the Kid said.
‘Wait,’ Bill grabbed the kid’s arm.
The kid looked at him, puzzled.
‘Before you go,’ Bill said. ‘I need to know.’
‘Know what?’
‘Just what did Caleb do to start all this? What did he do to your ma?’
The kid smiled. ‘Sumbitch whistled at her,’ he said.
‘He whistled?’
The kid nodded. ‘I’m gonna’ kill that bastard.’
‘All this,’ Bill was incredulous. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Everything we’ve been through. And all because some cowboy whistled at your mother?’
‘It was the way he whistled at her,’ the kid said and once again started his countdown. ‘One.’
Bill shook his head, speechless.
‘Two,’
Bill tensed and prepared himself to move.
‘One,’ with that the kid made a break for it. Leaping from the relative safety of the livery stable and making for the scant cover the well offered. Bullets spat up the ground at his feet as he ran.
Bill saw a man positioned in the jailhouse doorway and he shot, hitting the man in the gut and sending him sliding to the ground. Another fired at Bill and the Welshman dove back behind cover but not before noticing Caleb Stanton crouching down by the fence that ran alongside the newspaper office. Bill quickly broke cover and fired at Stanton before ducking back behind the livery stable.
He didn’t think he had hit Stanton.
‘You got one,’ the kid shouted from his new position behind the well. ‘That weren’t too good, Welsh.’
&nbs
p; Bill waved back to him.
‘You count this time,’ the kid yelled.
Bill nodded and refilled his guns.
‘And try and get more of them.’
‘I’ll do my best to oblige,’ Bill yelled back. The damn kid really did think this was all a game.
‘Can you see Dutch?’ Bill yelled.
The kid carefully lifted his head above the well and had to quickly duck back down when a bullet chipped the stone and whistled off somewhere.
‘He’s moving now,’ the kid said. ‘He’s in shock. If he gets up he’s dead.’
‘One,’ Bill yelled.
The kid nodded.
‘Two,’
The kid holstered his weapon and pushed his hands into the dirt and brought his legs up, crouching like an athlete.
‘Three,’ Bill yelled and broke cover, firing widely as the kid started back towards the livery stable.
The kid almost made it two. He was a no more than three or four steps from the livery stable when one of his legs seemed to betray him. The kid yelled and fell, reaching for the injured leg.
‘I’ve been hit,’ the kid yelled and said no more as he was hit again. This time the wound was fatal and entered the side of his head, throwing him sideways to where he came to rest, eyes open with what looked like a smile upon his face.
‘No,’ Bill yelled and foolishly stepped out of cover. He saw Bear taking aim from the hotel boardwalk and he fired, creating a grisly looking hole in the squat man’s forehead. Next he shot towards Caleb but again missed when Stanton dove down behind the fence. There was another man on the hotel roof and Bill fired, taking him out.
Bill saw the hotel door open and he noticed Martha come out. He looked at him for a moment, but a man taking aim from the jailhouse doorway took Bill’s attention. Bill aimed and fired in one fluid motion and the man was thrown back into the jailhouse. Bill watched as Martha bent to aid Dutch and started to drag him back towards the hotel door.
The sound of a bugle broke the air and Bill smiled. Thomson had finally returned and from the sound of it he had brought the army with him.
There was no more gunfire; Stanton’s men seemed to have decided on a ceasefire. Once again the bugle sounded and now the sounds of many galloping horses could be heard. Bill noticed Stanton’s men coming out of hiding, their arms held above their head. They had no appetite to continue the fight now that the army were coming.
Bill was just about to go to Martha and Dutch when he saw Caleb break cover and run towards the hotel.
‘Watch out, ‘ Bill shouted and started towards the hotel, but before the Welshman could react Caleb had grabbed Martha and disappeared into the hotel with her.
Bill ran after them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bill went through the door quickly but stopped dead immediately. There before him stood Caleb and he held Martha tightly to him, the barrel of his Colt pressed beneath her chin.
‘Take off you gunbelt,’ Caleb ordered. ‘Slowly or I’ll blow this woman’s head off.’ The woman struggled in his arms but it was no good and Caleb merely held her tighter.
Bill unbuckled his gun belt and allowed it to hang in one of his hands.
‘Toss it away,’ Caleb said. ‘Over there.’
Bill threw his gun belt towards the door.
‘Good,’ Caleb said and pushed Martha away from him and then shot Bill.
The slug spun Bill around and threw him to the floor. A red-hot wave of agony sent shockwaves through his body and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He been hit in the side, the bullet passing straight through him, a flesh wound he guessed, but it hurt like hell.
Caleb smiled and took aim again, this time squaring the sights at Bill’s head and then once again Caleb pulled the trigger, but the pin came down on an empty chamber.
‘No matter,’ Caleb said and tossed the Schofield aside. He pulled a vicious looking hunting knife from the scabbard on the back of his belt. ‘I’m gonna’ slit your throat,’ he said and advanced on Bill.
Bill tried to get up but he couldn’t. His shirt was now saturated with blood and he started to feel light headed. He felt dizzy but fought the feeling, willing himself not to lose consciousness as Caleb came and stood over him.
Caleb smiled, evilly and then knelt down and grabbed Bill’s head with one hand while the other brought the vicious looking knife into play.
Bill’s hand reached inside his shirt and he pulled one of his knitting needles out. He rammed it upwards with all his strength and it entered Caleb’s left eye, bursting the eyeball, which spurted out a mixture of optical fluid and blood, and continued upwards until it connected with Caleb’s skull. With that Caleb dropped the knife and the weight of his own body drove the needle through his skull and into his brain.
With that unconsciousness did finally overtake Bill and he slipped away, Caleb’s lifeless body atop him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Time sure did fly, Bill thought as he realized it had been almost a year since the shoot out with Caleb Stanton. A full twelve months had gone past, and he was still here and guessed he would remain so for some time to come. He had nowhere else to go and besides these days he had ties to the town. For one thing he wore the tin star himself and took pride in his role as town sheriff. And for another he had a wife, a good woman and he had not looked back since marrying Martha almost ten months ago.
A lot had happened since then.
Bill patted the side of his horse’s head gently as they approached the town boundaries. He took this ride every afternoon, called it his patrol. He would circle the town and the ride out to the old Stanton place before doing the whole thing in reverse. He smiled as he reached the outskirts of the town and saw the welcome sign.
It always tickled him.
WELCOME TO WILLIAMSTOWN.
The End of
A Piccadilly Publishing Western
By Jack Martin
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