The Vengeance Seeker 4

by Will C. Knott

  “I didn’t send you two buzzards after him,” Reno said. “I could have handled him myself. What are you two after?”

  “We just don’t want to see you get taken, Reno,” said Slim.

  “Bullshit.”

  “Well ...” began Sam, with a quick glance at his partner. “We was kind of hoping you’d see your way clear to splitting a little of your sudden wealth between us—”

  “—since we delivered this here feller to you, trussed like a turkey, all ready to pluck,” Slim finished, no longer smiling.

  Reno looked away from the two. They made him sick. “I’ll think on it,” he said.

  Wolf had managed to pull himself to a sitting position and was leaning back against the boulder he had almost hit. His hat was lying beside him in the dust. Reno picked it up and slapped it down onto Wolf’s head.

  Wolf smiled. “Thanks, Johnny. I was real worried about losing my hat.”

  “I’m disappointed in you, Wolf,” Reno said. “How come you let these two buzzards corral you like this?”

  “Guess maybe I’m getting old.”

  Reno nodded grimly. “Guess maybe that’s right.”

  “But the hand ain’t played out yet, Johnny.”

  Reno snorted. Wolf was whistling in the dark. He had to be. He was finished now—and he had to know it. But then Wolf was like that: grit instead of sense, a fool courage when the whole goddamn world was sliding down around him.

  “All right,” Reno said. “I’ll give you a chance, Wolf. I’ll let you join us.”

  “No, Johnny. Not interested.”

  “Damn it, Wolf! Hear me out, at least. This was my last raise. There’s enough here for me to buy my own spread, free and clear. I got the place all picked out. The two of us could run it. You could be my ramrod.” As Reno heard himself running on, he realized suddenly how much he really wanted Wolf to throw in with him—how lonely it had been all these years. Yes, it would be like old times—only better.

  But Wolf was shaking his head.

  “Give it some thought, damn you, Wolf! Look what I’m offering you!”

  “Otherwise you’ll kill me?”

  “I can’t let you take me back, Wolf. You ought to know that.”

  “That money you took ain’t your money—or mine—to do with as you please, Johnny. But I tell you what. You give it back—what’s left of it—and come back with me for a fair trial, and I’ll see to it that it is fair. That’s a promise, Johnny.”

  Reno stepped back. “And that’s all you want me to do, is it?”

  “That’s all, Johnny.”

  Reno took a deep breath and looked around him. Tom and Wes were looking at him with some bewilderment. They didn’t understand why Reno was offering Wolf the chance to throw in with them. The two miners, especially, were confused. This was not the way they had thought Reno would react to their bringing in Caulder. Reno took a perverse satisfaction in their confusion.

  Reno looked back down at Wolf. “No, Wolf. There’s no chance of my going back with you. I told you what I’m going to do with my share of the money. Besides, I’m the one who makes conditions now.”

  Wolf’s battered face twisted into a kind of smile. “Thanks for the offer anyway, Johnny. Too bad we couldn’t have thought of that ranch a long time ago.”

  Reno turned away from Wolf and walked back to the campfire, where he hunkered down and poured fresh coffee into his cup. As he drank it he looked at the two fidgeting miners. This was all their fault. He was furious with them. And they had come in so proud with what they had done, so puffed up with their own importance.

  They weren’t fit to lick Wolf Caulder’s boots. Rose left her spot and walked over to Reno. As he stood up with his coffee, she placed a hand on his wrist. “You’ve got to kill him, Johnny,” she said. “We’ll never see that ranch you’ve been talking about if you don’t.”

  Reno looked at her, amazed. She had heard what he had told Wolf about the ranch, and now she was dealing herself in! And telling him to kill Wolf in the bargain! He had to restrain himself from flinging his coffee into her face.

  “Stay out of this, Rose,” he hissed softly, looking away. “Just stay to hell out of it.”

  The suppressed fury in his voice warned her and she quickly retreated to her former perch to watch. Reno looked back over at the two miners. He suddenly had an idea. Though he didn’t much like it, it was the best he could do for Wolf under the circumstances. It wouldn’t give Wolf much of a chance, but it would give him some, at least.

  His mind made up, Reno threw the dregs of his coffee into the dying campfire and started toward the two miners.

  Watching Johnny Reno, Wolf understood how difficult the two miners had made it for him. Now, as Wolf watched Johnny conferring with them, he had an idea of what Johnny had in mind. It didn’t seem likely he would take the advice of Compton’s wife, who—it seemed—had not come along with the gang entirely against her will. Johnny would give the job to someone else.

  That was why he was talking now to Slim and his partner. The job was sure as hell dirty enough for them.

  Abruptly the voices of the two miners were raised in protest. As the men made a sudden move for their sidearms, Johnny stepped back swiftly, his Colt clearing leather in a twinkling. The two miners crowded back hastily, their Colts still in their holsters.

  “Disarm these two,” Johnny told the youngest of his bunch.

  The fellow stepped forward and quickly lifted the six-guns from the miners’ holsters.

  “Take their rifles, too,” Johnny told the kid. “Then ride about a half mile on through the pass and dump them beside the trail. Then keep going. We’ll catch up with you.”

  The young cowboy had difficulty carrying all that hardware on board his horse, but he managed somehow and rode off quickly down the trail.

  Before he was out of sight, Johnny searched the men for knives, then stampeded their mounts. After that they broke camp quickly and mounted up, all except Johnny. He walked over to Wolf with a knife in his hand and smiled thinly.

  “I’m giving you the only chance I can, Wolf,” Johnny said. “It’s the best I can do.”

  Hauling Wolf to his feet, Reno spun Wolf around and sliced through the rope the miners had used to bind his wrists. As Wolf felt the sudden throbbing pulse of blood flowing into his hands, he turned to face Reno, rubbing his hands together in an effort to restore their circulation.

  “Thanks, Johnny. But this don’t change anything.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” said Reno bleakly. “I’m leaving these two behind to finish you. If they don’t do that, they’ll at least slow you up long enough for me to lose you. I hope—for both of our sakes, Wolf—that I never lay eyes on you again.”

  Reno turned and strode over to his horse. A moment later he swung into his saddle beside Rose and the other fellow and galloped off down the trail—leaving Wolf alone to face the two miners.

  Wolf smiled. They would have to finish him off with the bare hands before they could claim their reward from Johnny. Both men licked their lips and started cautiously toward Wolf. By this time Wolf’s hands, though still tingling, were almost back to normal, and he flexed his fingers and clenched his fists as he awaited the two men’s attack.

  Suddenly Sam scooped up a large rock and hurled it at Wolf’s head, then charged. Wolf ducked aside to avoid the rock, but was unable to escape Sam’s rush. As the man drove him back against the canyon wall, Slim rushed him from the side, hooked Wolf around the neck with his arm and pulled him away from the rock face. With both Sam’s weight and Slim’s arm pulling him to the left, Wolf felt himself going down. He hit hard, on his back.

  But he managed to lash out with his right fist and catch Slim under the chin. The man reeled back, clutching at his Adam’s apple. Wolf struck out at Sam, landing a hard blow to the side of his face. It rocked him back slightly, but Slim jumped back on top of him, straddling his waist, his weight enough to keep Wolf pinned to the ground as Sam began to pound him abo
ut the head and shoulders.

  Heaving desperately, Wolf managed to roll sideways, then hunch up and push himself back onto his hands and knees. His right hand found a large rock. He spun around and brought the rock up into Sam’s face, flattening the man’s nose and sending him yelping backward. Flailing out wildly then, he managed to throw Slim off him and regained his feet. As Slim also tried to stand up, Wolf kicked him in the side. Slim doubled up and began rolling on the canyon floor. But Sam, his face a bloody mess by this time, rushed Wolf head down and slammed him backward.

  Wolf lost his footing and landed on his back, a boulder slamming into the base of his skull. He fought desperately for consciousness as the inside of his head exploded. Through a blood-haze, he saw Sam looming over him. The blood was coming from what was left of Sam’s nose. There was a huge rock in his hand and he was holding it high over his head.

  Blinking away the blood, Wolf saw Sam bring the rock down as he rolled to one side. The rock struck him a glancing blow on the back, but Wolf kept on rolling, then scrambled to his feet. He was still having trouble seeing and it felt as if the back of his skull were hanging open, but he was steady enough on his feet to contain Sam’s charge with hooking rights and lefts.

  When he caught the man flush on his broken nose, Sam howled and staggered back, his eyes filled with sudden tears of rage. Wolf bent to pick up a rock, but as he did so Slim grabbed him from behind. Grappling frantically, the two thudded to the ground. But Wolf still held the rock in his hand. Clubbing it viciously against the side of Slim’s head, he saw the man shake himself and attempt to pull away.

  Before he could make it, Wolf brought the rock down onto the man’s skull with all the force he could muster. He felt the bone crack. A third time Wolf slammed downward, this blow containing all the fury, all the pent-up frustration of a hopeless fight. Slim’s skull shattered and the man fell forward into a convulsive roll.

  Exhausted—half mad with the murderous intensity of the battle—Wolf looked up and saw Sam with another rock held high over his head. Wolf, spent completely, found himself unable in that instant even to raise his hands to ward off what was coming.

  A rifle shot sounded clearly, sharp in the thin mountain air. Wolf heard the bullet whine off the rocks behind him and saw Sam flinch—as if he had felt the bullet’s passage past his cheek. He took a step back, looked hastily about him as another rifle shot sounded. Again the sound of the bullet ricocheting came to Wolf and this time he saw Sam, in a sudden panic, drop the rock and turn to bolt.

  The rock just missed Wolf as he roused himself to one final effort and grabbed Sam’s right leg. Sam thrashed frantically in an effort to pull out of Wolf’s grasp, but Wolf dragged him to the ground and swung a hard, sledging right to the man’s chin.

  Sam’s head snapped around from the force of the punch. Wolf came back with his left and Sam’s face snapped back the other way. In a frenzy, Sam tried to claw his way out from under Wolf, but Wolf grabbed his shirtfront and pulled the man to his feet. A wild blood-lust filled Wolf now, banishing his fatigue, filling him with the joy of combat as he punched Sam about the face and head with savage, murderous precision. Sam backed away slowly, unable to do more than paw at Wolf’s ruthlessly timed punches. Blood was streaming from his nose and an open slash over his right eye. He began to whimper now under Wolf’s ceaseless, metronomic blows until finally—in a desperate, mindless attempt to escape—he lunged at Wolf. Wolf stepped neatly to one side and as Sam hurtled blindly past him, he brought his right fist down on the man’s neck. The rabbit punch dropped him like a pole axed steer.

  Sam did not move. Wolf looked closer and saw a slowly spreading slick of fresh blood. He went down on one knee and rolled the man over.

  Sam had come down on a high, sharply ridged stone embedded firmly in the ground. The blade of the rock had punched a ragged hole between the man’s eyes, shattering the bone connecting the eye sockets.

  Wolf turned the man back over onto his stomach—and became aware of a sudden giddiness. He tried to get back up onto his feet, but he seemed to have lost all power to govern his limbs. For the first time he noted the painful throbbing in his thigh. The ground under his feet shifted. He felt himself sinking onto his back.

  When his head struck, the pain exploded deep within his skull like a cache of dynamite. Through the sudden red haze that fell over his eye, he saw a rider approaching. The rider was wearing a high-crowned sombrero and was astride a magnificent chestnut. But the eyes that looked down at him from under the sombrero had tears in them and they were the large soft eyes of a woman.

  Juanita!

  It was her rifle fire that had saved him then. He watched her dismount. He wanted to cry out to her—to thank her. But all the lines were down and he could only watch as she hurried through the strange gathering darkness to crouch beside him.

  But the darkness reached him before she did.

  Seven

  As Wes Tomlin watched Tom Gibson ride out of camp, he felt more than a little uneasy. First it was Ike, then Murdo. Pretty soon the only one left would be Reno—and all that money. Not that he blamed Reno for killing Murdo. But this business with Tom was something else again.

  Wes took a deep breath and walked over to Reno, who was busy tightening the cinch on his saddle. Wes stood as silent and patient as the horse while he waited for Reno to finish. After a final tug, Reno let the stirrup drop and turned to face Wes, his eyes cool, wary.

  “What do you want, Wes?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t like what?”

  “Sending Tom back to tangle with that lawman.”

  “Caulder’s probably dead. I’m just sending the kid back to find out what happened. Those two miners should have caught up with us by now. Would you rather go instead?”

  “That ain’t the point, Reno.”

  “What is the point, Wes?” Reno asked, a touch of cold steel in his quiet voice.

  “I was just wondering, is all,” Wes said, wilting under Reno’s gaze, but determined to have his say. “Seems to me you was pretty quick to finish off Ike Tyson. And we all did a pretty good job on Murdo. Now you’re sending Tom back to maybe get his head blown off by that one-eyed galoot. If Tom don’t come back, you’ll end up with his share, too.”

  “So I would.”

  Wes knew he was probably beet-red by this time, but continued to speak up anyway. “Looks to me like you’re just trying to whittle us down.”

  Reno smiled. His eyes, however, remained as cold and calculating as before. “Well, what’s wrong with that, Wes? The more there is for me, the more there is for you as well.”

  “You mean you admit it? You’re sending Tom back deliberate?”

  “I mean I want to find out what happened to those miners and to Wolf Caulder. I got to know what to expect, don’t I? Besides, if Tom tries to go against Caulder and stops a bullet, that leaves all the more for us, don’t it?”

  “You mean you’ll share what’s left?”

  “Of course, Wes.”

  Wes felt the bottom drop out of his argument. “Just so’s I get my share, Johnny.” He glanced at Rose standing beside the dying fire. “That’s half of what’s left.”

  “Sure, Wes.”

  But Wes wasn’t finished yet. Reno seemed downright reasonable, which gave Wes the courage to open up on something that had been eating on him ever since the pass. “You’re pretty damn sure that lawman is still alive, ain’t you?”

  Reno shrugged. “He’s a good man.”

  “Damn it then. You should have killed the sonofabitch when you had the chance.”

  “Maybe you’re right, Wes.” Reno smiled. “But tell me. Could you think of a better way to get rid of those miners? And maybe get rid of Caulder at the same time? Right now it’s just the two of us splitting all that money—or three if Tom makes it back—but with those two buzzards riding along with us, there’d be a hell of a lot less for each of us.”

  Wes frowned. There was something wrong
with Reno’s reasoning. There had to be. It was too neat. But he was damned if he could find what it was.

  “Okay, Johnny,” Wes said as he turned and started for his saddle by the fire. “Just so’s we don’t play no more games.”

  “Sure,” said Reno carefully. “I promise you, Wes. No more games.”

  Something in Reno’s voice sent a quick shudder down Wes’s back and he turned to look back at Reno. Reno had one foot in the stirrup, and when he saw Wes’s reaction, he laughed and hauled himself into his saddle.

  “Better get a move on, Wes,” Reno said. “We’ve got a couple of days yet before we reach Lawson. I’d like to get there before I begin to smell like those two miners.” He glanced over at Rose, who was already in her saddle. “Ain’t that right, Rose.”

  She smiled. “I think you two buzzards already smell that bad,” she said, pulling her horse around.

  As Wes started to lug his saddle over to his horse with Rose and Reno watching from their mounts, he could not shake the feeling that all of a sudden it was the two of them against him.

  In his dream Wolf was running from Diego. He did not want to practice with the rifle any more. The sight of the flopping rabbit had been too much for him. Suddenly Diego grabbed one of his arms from behind and flung him around. Diego’s old, old eyes—filled with sorrow but also with a grim resolve—were boring into Wolf’s single eye as his old hands held both Wolf’s arms in a cruel, unrelenting grip.

  “Listen to me, young Wolf,” Diego said. “To kill is the order of life. To be born means a man must learn how to die. It only matters that one’s death—like one’s life—serve a purpose!”

  “But ... I don’t want to shoot any more animals!”

  Diego pointed to an eagle coasting high above them. “See that great bird, young Wolf? Watch and you will see him drop like a stone upon his victims, the mice, the rabbit. Your bullet was quick, quicker than the bird’s ripping talons. Now that rabbit you shot will not feel the eagle’s cruel death. And like that eagle above us, we will find use for the dead animal. It will feed us so that we may live.”