The shot must have missed, though, because the hairy predator was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and snapping and snarling.
Smoke drove an elbow up and back and connected solidly with the wolf’s head. That slowed the fierce assault for a second. Smoke managed to writhe onto his back, and as teeth flashed mere inches from his face, his hands shot up and grabbed the wolf’s thick coat just behind its head. Smoke steeled his muscles to keep the killer from ripping his face off.
Hot slaver drooled from the wolf’s gaping jaws. Its claws ripped at Smoke’s heavy clothing. A great shudder went through him as he strained, pitting his strength against that of the wolf with his life on the line.
Vaguely, as if it were happening miles away, he was aware of more screams and gunshots. Fear for the safety of his children coursed through him, but he knew if he took his attention away from the snarling, snapping wolf for even the merest instant, it would mean his death.
Then, suddenly, another dark, hairy shape loomed over the wolf. In the firelight, with the beast’s hot breath in his face, Smoke couldn’t see very well, but he knew the wolf’s weight went away with no warning. The thick pelt was ripped out of his hands. He heard a howl of pain.
Smoke rolled onto his side and looked toward the stagecoach. Everyone huddled against it except for Frank Colbert, who stood with the Winchester hanging in his left hand while he fired his pistol with the right. A couple of shots slammed from the gun as Colbert aimed into the trees.
The panic-stricken horses hitched to the coach lunged forward, but the brake held and the coach only lurched a couple of feet.
That was enough to throw Alma Lewiston off balance, and as she stumbled away from Brad, Denny leaped at her and grappled for the gun. Smoke scrambled to his feet, intending to go to his daughter’s aid, but Colbert swung the revolver toward him and yelled, “Hold it, Jensen, or I’ll drill you!”
Alma jerked away from Denny and chopped at her head with the gun she held. Smoke heard the thud as the blow fell. Denny’s knees buckled.
Louis tackled Alma from behind. She cried out as she went down. Colbert’s head jerked back and forth from Smoke to the struggle beside the coach. Obviously, he was torn between holding Smoke at bay and trying to help Alma. He couldn’t take a shot at Louis, though, without risking hitting his only ally instead.
Just the distraction was enough. Smoke leaped at Colbert, and as the outlaw tried to bring the gun to bear, Smoke swung his left arm and caught the wrist of Colbert’s gun hand, knocking it upward. The revolver roared and geysered flame, but the barrel was pointing at the snow-laden sky.
Smoke crashed into Colbert and drove him backward off his feet.
Colbert landed on his back with Smoke on top of him. All of Smoke’s anger from the past two days boiled up inside him. He rammed his knee into Colbert’s stomach, then smashed a punch to his face. He banged Colbert’s gun hand against the ground, trying to dislodge the weapon from the man’s grip, but the snow cushioned it too much and ruined that effort.
Colbert wasn’t going to give up easily, either. He hammered a short but powerful left-hand punch to Smoke’s jaw. The blow rocked Smoke’s head back. Colbert heaved up from the ground and threw him off to the side.
As Smoke landed on his back, Colbert tried again to bring the gun to bear on him. Smoke snapped a kick that caught Colbert’s wrist and sent the revolver flying from his grip. Colbert had already dropped the Winchester when Smoke tackled him, so that left the two men on equal terms.
They surged up from the ground and came together like two titans slugging it out for control of the world.
Smoke whipped in a left-right combination that rocked Colbert’s head far back, but the outlaw recovered quickly enough to smash a punch to his opponent’s sternum before Smoke could step back. Smoke planted a foot to brace himself as Colbert bored in and looped a left at his head. Smoke blocked it and retaliated with a left hook of his own that buried his fist in Colbert’s belly.
That caused Colbert to double over, but the outlaw tried to turn that to his advantage by lowering his head even more and ramming it into Smoke’s chest. He grabbed Smoke in a bear hug and forced him backward. Smoke clubbed his fists together and pounded them down on Colbert’s back, but it didn’t break his hold.
Colbert rammed Smoke into the trunk of a pine tree. The back of Smoke’s head banged sharply against the rough bark. The world spun crazily around him. The vibration from the impact shook snow from the heavily laden branches. The white stuff showered down around them.
Smoke caught hold of Colbert’s hair and jerked his head up. He butted his forehead against Colbert’s. Maybe not the smartest move, since he was already dizzy.
The impact stunned both of them, but Smoke had enough strength, and enough of his wits about him, to shove Colbert away from him when he felt the man’s grip loosen.
Colbert recovered a split second sooner, which gave him a chance to charge at Smoke. Smoke twisted out of the way, though, and grabbed Colbert’s coat to sling him to the ground. Colbert hooked Smoke’s ankle with a reaching hand and upended him. The two battlers fell close enough together that within a heartbeat they were rolling across the snowy ground, wrestling desperately.
Colbert managed to get behind Smoke and wrap an arm around his neck. As Colbert’s forearm clamped across his throat like an iron bar, Smoke jabbed his elbow backward into Colbert’s body. Colbert’s grip didn’t slip even a little.
Smoke had had some air in his lungs when Colbert got hold of him, so he wasn’t in danger of passing out from being choked just yet. But much more pressure would crush his windpipe, Smoke knew. If that happened, he wouldn’t have a chance. He reached back and clawed at Colbert’s face, searching for his eyes.
The old “no bitin’, no gougin’,” rule had no place in a life-or-death battle like this.
Colbert yelled hoarsely and jerked back as one of Smoke’s fingers dug at his right eye. That gave Smoke an opening to lower his chin and force Colbert’s arm away from his throat. With that terrible pressure eased, Smoke gulped down some air and twisted around enough to hit Colbert under the chin with the heel of his hand.
That left Colbert slow to respond. Smoke swung his right fist up, then brought it down like a mallet in Colbert’s face. Teeth came loose and blood flew. Smoke hit him again, this time slugging him on the jaw. He got a knee in Colbert’s belly and rocked his head to the side with a left. Anger kept Smoke hammering punches, even though Colbert had stopped fighting back and was only half conscious.
Smoke wasn’t the sort of man to lose control of himself, though, even under the most trying circumstances, so he hit Colbert only three or four more times than he actually needed to. As Colbert lay there mostly senseless, blubbering incoherently through smashed, bloody lips, Smoke put a hand on the ground and pushed himself upright.
He didn’t know what he would find when he turned toward the coach. Alma Lewiston might be just about ready to shoot him.
Instead, Alma lay facedown in the snow with Denny sitting on top of her. Salty was a few feet away with his old revolver back in his hand, where it belonged. Smoke could tell the old-timer was poised to shoot if it had been Colbert who got up.
Melanie was on her knees hugging Brad, who appeared to be all right but a little uncomfortable at all the attention. Louis stood protectively beside them. He was breathing hard, and Smoke didn’t like the looks of his coloring, but it was hard to be sure about that in the firelight.
Stansfield and Kellerman stood off to the side. Smoke told them, “Go hang on to the team’s harness. Talk quietly to them. That’ll calm them down.” He turned to Salty. “What about the wolves?”
“The rest of the pack seems to’ve lit a shuck. Four of ’em are dead. Colbert shot a couple, and you broke that one’s neck.”
Smoke frowned. “What about the fourth one?”
“We’d best talk about that later,” Salty said. “How bad are you hurt, Smoke?”
“Me? I’m all ri
ght.” Smoke looked down at the rips and tears in his jacket. “The wolf didn’t get me, just did some damage to my clothes. Any blood on me is from Colbert.”
He picked up Colbert’s pistol and the Winchester and went straight to the opened boot to reload the rifle. As he thumbed cartridges through the loading gate, he said to Denny, “Is Mrs. Lewiston alive?”
“You don’t think I’d be sitting on her if she wasn’t, do you?” Denny replied. “She’s fine, I just don’t want her getting too rambunctious again.”
“Are you all right? I saw her wallop you with that gun.”
“It was just a glancing blow,” Denny said contemptuously. “Addled me for a minute, that’s all. As soon as I got my wits back, Louis and I took the gun away from her and gave it to Salty.”
Smoke reached through the open door of the coach and picked up one of the lengths of rope Colbert had used to tie their hands. He tossed it to Denny, who pulled Alma’s hands behind her back and lashed them together without being told to.
Then, when Denny stood up, Smoke handed the Winchester to her and said, “Keep an eye on Colbert. I’m going to tie him up, too.”
Being careful to stay out of the line of fire, he got another piece of rope and approached the bloody outlaw, who was starting to come around. As Colbert lifted his head, Denny trained the rifle’s sights on it and said, “I’m a crack shot, mister. Give me an excuse and I’ll be happy to put a bullet right through that diseased brain of yours.”
Colbert snarled but didn’t put up a fight as Smoke tied his hands behind his back. Smoke hauled him upright and gave him a push that sent him stumbling toward the coach.
Alma had gotten to her feet by now. Her hat was gone and her hair had come loose, so it hung around her haggard face as she leaned against the coach and glared murderously at Smoke, Denny, and Louis.
Stansfield and Kellerman weren’t very effective at calming the horses, but at least the team wasn’t trying to bolt anymore. Smoke told them, “Grab one of those wolf carcasses and drag it out beyond the fire. We don’t need them up here around the coach. They’re probably still stirring up the horses.”
“What if the others come back?” Stansfield asked. “Aren’t they liable to attack us?”
“I’m coming with you, and I’ll have the rifle.” Smoke looked around at his son. “Louis, help Mrs. Buckner and Brad into the coach. You might as well stay in there, too, and start warming up again.”
Colbert demanded, “What about us? Are you going to leave us out here to freeze?” The words were thick and slurred because of his smashed lips.
“Maybe I ought to, but I won’t. You can stay outside for a few more minutes, though, until we get things squared away around the camp. Salty, keep an eye on them.”
“Damn well betcha I will,” the old-timer said.
Smoke didn’t see or hear any signs of the survivors from the wolf pack, but he kept the Winchester handy as Stansfield and Kellerman dragged off the carcass. That reminded him of Salty’s odd refusal to discuss what had happened to the fourth dead wolf. Smoke told Stansfield and Kellerman to get back in the coach, and when they had, Colbert and Alma climbed in awkwardly as well. They sat on the floor this time, which would make it more difficult for them to try anything if they managed to get free . . . which Smoke didn’t believe would happen, as securely as he and Denny had tied them.
That left Smoke, Denny, and Salty outside. Smoke told Denny to add some more branches to the fires and build them up again. While she was doing that, he said to Salty, “Now, what’s all the mystery about that fourth wolf? What happened to it?”
“Well . . .” The old jehu scratched his beard and kept his voice pitched low as he went on, “You remember when that critter was tryin’ to gobble up your face and you was barely holdin’ him off?”
“It wasn’t that long ago, and anyway, I’m not liable to forget something like that.”
“Well, that was the fourth wolf,” Salty said. “What did you see whilst you was tusslin’ with it?”
Smoke recalled the large, dark, indistinct shape. “Somebody grabbed that wolf, tore it off me, and . . . did something to it. Is that right?”
“Flung it right into a tree and busted it to pieces like it didn’t weigh no more than a rag doll. But it wasn’t somebody, Smoke. It was something.”
Smoke frowned. “Blast it, what are you trying to say?”
“That it was another wolf that come along and saved your bacon, Smoke, the biggest, hairiest wolf I ever seen . . . only it walked on two legs, like a man.”
CHAPTER 32
Smoke looked intently at his old friend for a long moment. Salty seemed completely serious, even though what he had just said clearly made him uncomfortable.
“I never saw a wolf that could walk on two legs, Salty,” Smoke ventured. “Maybe one in a circus somewhere could do a trick like that.”
“This weren’t no circus animal,” Salty said. “It was big and fast and strong. I never got a good look at it, mind you. But I could tell it weren’t nothin’ that ought to be walkin’ around on this earth.” He paused. “Smoke, did you ever hear tell of a critter called . . . the Donner Devil?”
Until Salty asked that, the name hadn’t cropped up in Smoke’s thoughts. But once he heard the words, he did recall stories he had heard in the past. Crazy stories about a creature roaming Donner Pass and the mountainous area around it that was half bear, half man . . . or half wolf and half man, depending on who was spinning the yarn.
Salty obviously came down on the half-wolf side.
“You don’t put any stock in that tall tale, do you, Salty?”
The old-timer frowned. “Well, I never did until now. But I never seen anything like what I saw tonight, either.”
“You say it ran off after it killed that wolf?”
“Yeah. Loped off through the trees. Didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but it went out of sight mighty quick-like, let me tell you.”
“And it was still moving on two legs?”
“It sure was.”
Smoke nodded and said, “There’s nothing we can do about it now, other than be grateful that it helped me, for whatever reason. I don’t know how long I would’ve been able to hold off that wolf.”
From behind him, Denny asked, “What are we going to do now?”
Smoke looked around at his daughter. “You heard what Salty was saying?”
“I heard.”
Salty began, “You probably think I’m plumb loco, Miss Denny—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “You don’t need to worry about that, Salty. Louis and I have spent a lot of time on the continent—in Europe, I mean—and there are places over there where you hear all kinds of strange stories. Why, we were touring through the Carpathian Mountains once, and we heard a story about some bloodthirsty count from hundreds of years ago—”
“We can swap stories later,” Smoke said. “For now, Salty, why don’t you get back in the coach and get some rest? Denny and I will take turns standing guard tonight.”
Salty shook his head and said, “Let the gal rest. Ever since I got plugged, y’all have been makin’ me take it easy, and I’m startin’ to feel plumb useless. I’m rested up enough so’s I can stand watch, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with my right arm. That’s my gun hand, you know.”
Smoke thought about it and then nodded. “Good idea. Denny, you get in the coach. But before you do . . .” Smoke took the pistol Colbert had been carrying from behind his belt, where he had tucked it away, and held it out to her. “You’ll be packing iron from now on. I know I can trust you to use it if you need to.”
“That’s the truth,” she said. “But what if you need a handgun?”
Smoke reached under his jacket and brought out the Colt Lightning that Colbert had taken away from him the day before. “He had this one in his pocket when I tied him up. After I tackled him, he never had time to try to get it out.” He hefted the Winchester. “Plus I have this rifle if I need it.”
&nb
sp; “And there’s another o’ them repeaters in the boot,” Salty added. “What kind of a rifle shot is Louis?”
“He’ll do,” Denny said in a tone of grudging admiration. “But I’m better.”
Smoke smiled. He wasn’t sure his children would ever get completely over that sense of sibling rivalry....
As Denny climbed into the coach, Smoke said, “You get some sleep now, too, Salty. I’ll wake you later.”
“I don’t mind takin’ the first turn,” the old-timer said.
“No, I’m fine. Fact of the matter is, now that I’ve got a gun on my hip again, I feel pretty good.”
He would feel better, though, he thought as snowflakes brushed his cheeks, if they weren’t all still facing a very uncertain future here in these blizzard-swept mountains.
* * *
Smoke and then Salty, when the old jehu took his turn, were able to keep the fire blazing brightly all night. Smoke didn’t see any sign of the wolves coming back, and Salty reported the same thing the next morning when Smoke climbed stiffly out of the coach.
A faint gray light hung in the heavens. With the thick overcast and the snow still falling heavily, the day might not get much brighter than it was right now.
Everyone else got out of the coach for the breakfast Melanie prepared. Now that Brad was no longer in imminent danger, she seemed much calmer and reserved.
She made sure that Brad stayed close to her, though, and began to look anxious whenever he strayed too far away.
Louis appointed himself to help Melanie with the meal. Denny was charged with guarding Alma Lewiston while the woman went off into the trees to tend to her personal business. Smoke handled the same chore with Colbert.
When he came back, he found that Stansfield and Kellerman had started switching the teams. He grinned and said, “We’ll make stage station hostlers out of you fellas yet.”
“Not likely,” Kellerman snapped. “I just want to be on our way as quickly as possible. The sooner we get back to civilization, the better.”
A High Sierra Christmas Page 24
