by Lee Goldberg
Not counting us, I could see twelve men in the room: Harrigan, the bartender working behind the bar, and ten men sitting at the tables. Of those ten customers, six of them were drinking and laughing and talking with some of Harrigan's girls. The other four were all sitting together at one table, playing cards. Three of them were wearing range clothes, like us, and the fourth cardplayer sported a pinstriped suit and a derby hat.
Some of the whores were wearing silk dressing gowns, while the others had lacy getups that left them more bare than not. My eyes went right away to one of them with plenty of reddish-orange hair and fair skin dotted with freckles. I could see a lot of that skin because she wasn't wearing anything except some frilly black step-ins and a band of black silk around her breasts. She saw me too, and let out a squeal as she jumped off the lap of the man who had been cuddling her and ran over to me. I just had time to see that the gent who'd been deserted didn't look too happy about the state of affairs, and then Becky was grabbing onto me and practically jumping up into my arms like a puppy. She damned near knocked me over, but I caught myself as she wrapped her legs around my hips and just sort of hung there as she kissed me.
Well, with my arms full of a pretty, nearly naked, redheaded whore, I didn't think much about anything else for a few seconds, but then I heard Roy say, "I'd just let it go if I was you, mister." The sound of his voice told me plain as day that there might be trouble.
I'd closed my eyes while I was kissing Becky, but I opened them now and turned a little so that I could see. The man she'd been with was standing up and glaring at me and her. His hands were balled into fists, and his shoulders were set for a fight. Roy stood a few feet away from him, his left hand raised slightly. The gent looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to take a swing at Roy or come after me and Becky first.
Then, before anybody could do anything, the cardplayer wearing the town suit spoke up and said, "If you boys are going to fight over that young lady, why don't you do it outside? We're playing poker here, and the ladies in my hand are demanding even more attention than the one in that young cowboy's arms."
Now, I don't believe for a minute he was actually holding any queens in his hand. I think he just said that to throw off the other fellas in the game. Or maybe he did, I don't know. But it sort of broke the tension anyway. The man Becky had deserted so sudden-like said, "Hell, a whore's a whore. There's always another of 'em."
That wasn't really fair to Becky, and I wouldn't have blamed her a bit if she'd taken offense at it, but she just giggled and rubbed herself against me some more, and I sort of lost interest in everything else again. Aaron told me later that Harrigan gave the gent a couple of free drinks and steered one of the other girls over to him, and that satisfied him just fine.
Roy and the rest of the gang went over to a big table in the corner, but I was already heading for the stairs, carrying Becky with me. Jace looked back over his shoulder at us and called, "Drew, are you comin' or not?" and that made everybody else hoot with laughter. I didn't bother answering.
I just took Becky upstairs to see if she'd learned any more tricks since the last time I'd been there.
Turned out she had, but I've always prided myself on at least trying to be a gentleman, so I won't go into that. I'll just say that I was a tired son of a buck when I came back downstairs a couple of hours later. Becky had told me she was going to take a little nap, but she made me promise before I left that I'd be back later.
Night had fallen while I was upstairs, and the big room was lit by the glow of several kerosene lamps. The air was smoky from the lamps and the cheroots clamped between the teeth of several of the customers, as well as Harrigan himself. Big Boy, Jace, and Aaron were sitting at the same table where they had been earlier. Big Boy had a blond whore sitting on his lap. She was small to start with, and cuddled up next to such a big fella like that, she looked even tinier. Aaron had two girls with him—no surprise there—one on each side. One was a redhead, but her curls were a darker shade than Becky's hair. The other was a Chinese girl, with long straight hair black as midnight flowing down her back. A girl was sitting next to Jace too, on a chair pulled up next to his, and she was a brunette with just a little paint on her face, which was unusual for a girl like that. Even Becky, who was young enough and pretty enough not to really need it, painted herself up. It was just the way of things.
The table was littered with glasses and empty whiskey bottles. As I came up, Big Boy waved a hand in greeting and said, "Pull up a chair. Drew."
I looked around. "Where's Roy?"
Big Boy nodded toward one of the other tables. "Over there."
I looked and saw that Roy had joined the same poker game that had been going on earlier. One of the players had dropped out, but the dude and the other two were still there. Roy had his hat shoved to the back of his head. A glass of whiskey sat at his elbow, but it didn't look like he had touched it. Roy wasn't much of one for drinking when he was playing cards. He liked to be clearheaded whenever he was doing anything important.
"What about Murph and the Gundersons?"
"Upstairs," Aaron said. "Those Swedes' eyes got so big when a couple of Wing's cousins got hold of them, I thought they were goin' to pop." He patted the bare thigh of the Chinese girl, who had to be Wing.
"Where's Becky?" asked the brunette sitting with Jace.
"Still upstairs," I told her. "She said she was going to take a nap."
That brought a laugh from the others. The little blonde on Big Boy's lap said, "Wore her out, did you. Drew?"
I grinned and said, "She's an enthusiastic girl."
Aaron reached for a bottle with a few inches of whiskey still in it and poured some of the hooch into a glass. He slid it over to me. "Here. Get your strength back."
I felt like I needed more than whiskey, but I knocked it back anyway, then said, "What about something to eat?"
"Harrigan had his cook fry us up some steaks earlier," Big Boy said. "Not all of us were so danged impatient that we didn't stop to eat first."
"Well, I'm about ready to go upstairs, Big Boy," said the blonde. "From what I hear from the other girls, you live up to your name."
Damned if he didn't blush a little when she said that.
Big Boy and Aaron scraped their chairs back and stood up, and Aaron solved the problem of deciding which girl to take with him by taking both of them. I just shook my head in wonderment as they all headed up the stairs.
Jace and the brunette were still sitting there at the table, though, and I realized then that Jace hadn't said a word since I'd come downstairs. His jaw was set tight, in fact. The brunette looked at him, then looked at me, then said, "My name is Cecilia, by the way." She stuck her hand out.
I shook it and said polite-like, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am. I'm Drew Matthews."
"I know who you are," Cecilia said. "You and your friends are the famous Tacker Gang."
I shrugged. I didn't know how famous we were, but I suppose a few people had heard of us. The newspapers had gotten hold of Roy's name somehow and tagged it on the whole bunch, since they didn't know our names.
"I've read about you," Cecilia went on.
"That's one thing about the newspapers," I told her. "You can't believe but about half of what you read in them. If those reporter fellas don't know what they're writin' about, they just make something up."
Now, I know that was maybe overstating things a mite, but I was young and I was talking to a whore, so I didn't really mean anything by it.
She talked to me for a few minutes more, mostly about nothing, but I wasn't really paying attention. I looked over at Jace and when Cecilia gave me a chance, I asked him, "Are you all right?"
"Sure," he said tightly. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you haven't said nothin' since I came down, and you're still sittin' here—"
He didn't let me go any further. He reached over and grabbed Cecilia's hand and said, "Let's go."
"There's no hurry," s
he said to him. "Just whenever you're ready—"
He interrupted her too, pushing back his chair and standing up as he said, "I'm ready now."
Cecilia glanced at me, and this time it was her turn to shrug, and then she let Jace lead her over to the stairs and up to the second floor.
I caught Harrigan's eye and asked him if I could get a steak.
"With all the trimmin's?" he asked.
"Damn right."
We were rich, after all.
I ate the steak, along with a mess of potatoes and biscuits and gravy, washing it all down with beer instead of whiskey. Then I went over and watched the poker game for a while so that my food could set a spell before I went back upstairs to Becky. While I was doing that, Murph Skinner and the Gunderson boys came downstairs with their whores to fortify themselves with some more liquor before going back up for another bout.
Some cardplayers don't like it when anybody watches them, but others don't seem to mind. This appeared to be an easygoing bunch. The fella in the pin-striped suit was called Ford, and he was from Los Angeles, over in California. The other two men were ranchers, which was what I had pegged them for from the first. It didn't take me long to figure out that Roy and Ford were the best poker players in the game. They won the biggest pots, about half going to Roy and half to Ford. The ranchers settled for raking in some of the little ones.
I'm not much of a cardplayer myself. Give me some dominoes and a good game of Forty-Two. So it didn't take me long to get a little bored watching Roy and the others play. By that time, I was feeling a mite stronger, and I figured Becky had gotten enough sleep to last her a while. So I drank the last of the beer in my mug and headed upstairs again.
Becky was awake and waiting for me, and she said she had dreamed about us. She started showing me some of the things she'd been dreaming about. I allowed that those must have been pretty nice dreams, and she was showing me just how nice when the door of the room suddenly burst open and a stark naked, sobbing woman ran into the room.
I surely do hate it when that happens.
Here's the opening chapter from KILL THEM ALL by Harry Shannon, the next thrilling adventure in the DEAD MAN series…
CHAPTER ONE
Near DRY WELLS, NEVADA
Friday 8:12 AM
"Help! Over here!"
Matt Cahill shaded his eyes. Even this early in the morning the fierce Nevada sunshine slammed down like a giant metal press. The desert was flat and freckled with flat rocks. Clumps of blue sage sprouted here and there, tiny flowers open and gasping with thirst. Matt had jumped off a flat bed truck when the driver turned east figuring he'd easily catch another ride, but no one had passed this way in over an hour. He'd started walking, and was completely lost. Now he wondered if he was also hearing things.
"Help!"
A male voice? Then Matt spotted the boy, who was jumping up and down, waving frantically. Also saw a shirtless, sunburned man in overalls nearby, walking in circles. He took in the two racing bicycles resting against the side of what appeared to be an old, boarded up mine located on some scruffy ranch property. Matt dropped his backpack, his grandfather's ax and his worn bedroll. He sprinted in that direction.
Matt jogged past a sign that read KEARNS PROPERTY LEAVE SHIT HERE. As he got closer to the boy, the situation clarified itself. The redneck man was shouting and cursing, delusional or completely drugged out. He had some mining tools and bottles of water, ropes and a few sample sacks. Perhaps he'd been prospecting in the mine when something collapsed. The two bikes were top of the line, the kind used for long distances.
One of the riders was missing.
Panting, Matt arrived at the spot. The boy, a thin kid with freckles wasn't as young as Matt had first thought, maybe late teens. He had been crying. "She's down there, my kid sister is down there. Do you have a cell phone, mister? I called our Dad for help but mine just up and died. I'm not even sure he heard me."
Matt shook his head. "Sorry, I don't. What happened?"
The boy said, "We were daring each other just screwing around. My kid sister went down in there as a joke and something collapsed. Now I can hear her calling for help, but there's no way down."
"No way down?" Matt looked at the miner, a wreck of a human with missing teeth. "How do you get down in there, friend?"
The man screamed and batted at his own clothing. Speed freak, maybe. He looked useless. Spit flew from his mouth.
The kid said, "I tried to crawl in, but it's straight down, something fell apart. This old bastard won't tell me what to do."
Matt stepped closer. He looked into the mine shaft. The kid was right, behind the ring of rocks everything just dropped away. He heard the girl calling for help. Matt stepped back. The miner had a lot of equipment, much of it modern. He'd clearly been down below many times. There were small cutting tools, extra strength ropes and a pair of night vision goggles. The guy was just too stoned out to help. Matt walked closer. The miner grabbed a claw hammer and threatened him.
"Easy, old timer. Are you Mr. Kearns? Look, I just need to borrow some of your gear," Matt said.
"The fuck back!" Kearns bellowed. He swung the hammer at Matt's head. Matt stepped inside the blow, knocked it up and away with his left hand and punched twice, once over the heart and once in the side of the neck. Kearns sank to his knees, red faced and retching.
"Stand back. What's your name?"
"Jeb Pickens"
"Jeb, you keep an eye on that crazy son of a bitch. If you have too, hit him in the balls with something."
Matt Cahill grabbed some rope and a bottle of water. He examined the night vision goggles. They seemed easy to work. He took them too. He moved quickly to the mine entrance. Here goes…
Matt secured the rope to a boulder near the entrance. He lowered himself into the cool, dark mine. The air thickened. Small things scuttled away. A rattler stirred and expressed annoyance. Matt tried to move slowly and deliberately. His strong arms supported him. The movements weren't that foreign to him, he'd climbed up and down hundreds of trees as a lumberjack. Working with one rope wasn't all that different. The sunlight shrank above him and his eyesight gradually failed.
""I'm coming down," Matt called. "Try to step back out of the way."
"Okay." A female voice. Below him, close now.
Matt paused for a moment. He slipped the goggles on and experimented. After a few seconds he found the right switches and the gear clicked on. The world turned green and black, images distorted and weirdly flowing, but he could see. Matt lowered himself, hand over hand. He looked down.
She stood at the bottom of the trench and to one side, a teenaged girl in denim shorts and a loose man's tee shirt. She carried herself well, seeming more scared than injured. That was good, because Matt had to help her climb back out. He dropped down next to her. Her eyes glowed strangely in the ultra violet light. He'd almost forgotten that she couldn't see a thing. He touched her arm and she jumped.
"Are you thirsty?"
She nodded. He opened some water and fed her a few sips, then drank some himself. It was warm but delicious.
"My name is Matt Cahill," he said. "What's yours?"
"Suzie."
"Well, Suzie, I'm going to lead you to a rope. Can you climb?"
She nodded in the dark. "Just get me out of here, I've never been so scared in my entire life."
"Take my gloves," Matt said. "They will help you get back up." He took Suzie's hands gently, helped her tug on the working gloves. Matt led her to the rope, almost banging her head with the long nose of the NV goggles. Strange contraption, but remarkably effective. Matt thought, no wonder our soldiers have such an advantage in combat.
The girl found the rope. Matt guided her feet to the first foot holds. He looked up and described the climb as best he could. He put his hands on her waist and gave her a good start up the wall, then stepped back.
"Just keep going, Suzie. You'll see the sunlight soon. If you have to stop and rest, take your time. I've got som
e gear on, I can see okay down here."
Matt decided not to tell her he hated spiders.
Eventually the girl reached the top, Matt could hear the boy screaming for joy. Matt tested the rope and began to climb back up. Without the gloves, it cut deeply into his hands, but they were calloused from years of physical labor. He kept his eyes on the rock face, just to make sure nothing slimy or furry was planning on a sudden assault. Boards and rock groaned and moaned around him. The walls were closing in. Matt felt claustrophobic. He wanted to get the hell out of the place before something else collapsed. He was born for the mountains, not for a dark cave in the desert.
As he reached the top, the world went white. Matt suddenly couldn't see!
He cursed, almost let go off the rope. He'd forgotten to turn off the goggles. The sudden appearance of sunlight at the top momentarily blinded him. Matt found foot purchase in the rock. He let the NV goggles dangle around his neck. He blinked feverishly then kept his eyes closed for a while. His muscles trembled. White spots gradually turned dark again. Matt opened his eyes. His vision had returned to normal. Satisfied, he climbed the rest of the way out. Relieved and panting, Matt rolled out into the hot sand.
"Mister, we are so damned grateful I can't tell you!"
Matt sat up. The miner had crawled away and was sitting near a cactus, cradling his claw hammer. Matt waved, "Sorry about that, mister."
"It wasn't my fault," the man said. A crafty look crossed his pocked features. "That evil Dark Man did it, pushed her down there. He does all kinds of bad shit."
