One Man's Law

by J. R. Roberts

  In the hours since Clint’s most recent visit, the only movement the guards had seen came from the reptiles scurrying through the mud and the insects buzzing through the air. Now, after their eyes had become completely adjusted to the murky darkness of a Louisiana night, the guards were stumbling toward the site of the explosion with their guns held at the ready.

  “What in the hell was that?” one of them shouted.

  The big man who’d been at the front gate when Clint and Ed first arrived almost knocked that guard off his feet with the back of his hand. “Shut the fuck up!” he snarled. “And keep your eyes open.”

  Four guards had slowly crept up to the fence by the time most of the smoke had cleared. None of them were about to move until they got the order.

  It wasn’t until they heard the sputtering hiss that they were able to pick out which of the shadows in their sights was actually alive. Along with that hiss, however, there also came a small spray of sparks.

  “Get down!” the big guard shouted.

  As he and the rest of the guards jumped away from the fence, the dynamite exploded and threw them even farther through the air. For a moment, it seemed as if the old iron bars of the fence were still going to hold.

  Then, one bar moved as it wobbled from its bracket and leaned against the bar next to it.

  Seizing on that weak spot like a vulture descending upon a fresh corpse, Ed ran forward to grab hold of that bar and give it a pull. He hadn’t been expecting the bar to come loose so easily, so he wound up losing his balance as he heaved the bar away from the others.

  “There he is!” one of the guards shouted.

  That was all the rest of the men needed to hear for them to open fire on the shape that was already running back into the darkness. Ed wasn’t able to disappear so easily this time, however, and the guards kept firing as they ran after him.

  Shotguns blasted through the humid air, and the guards fanned out to try and flank Ed while they ran him down. Ed moved in and out of their field of vision, darting from one shadow to the next while drawing the guards farther into the swamp.

  Clint was covered in mud from head to toe. Instead of his hat, he wore a bandanna wrapped around his head, which was also slicked down by mud. A second bandanna was wrapped around his face and soaked through with mud. Although the mud worked as an excellent kind of camouflage, it also made him look like some sort of monster that had wandered from the bottom of a bog.

  Having shielded his eyes from the first explosion, he moved in toward Callahan’s front gate. The second explosion was his signal to move even closer, and the guards swarmed to the noisy blasts even quicker than Clint had hoped. That left less than half the number of guards at the prison’s front door.

  All the guards were jumpy and ready to shoot at anything that moved. Fortunately for Clint, the guard he approached from behind didn’t see or hear a damn thing until it was too late.

  Clint snaked one arm around the guard’s neck and used his free hand to snatch the man’s wrist. Before the guard could do more than let out a surprised yelp, Clint had taken away his weapon and cracked him in the back of the head with the gun’s stock. The guard dropped to the ground and Clint moved on to the next one.

  “Luke?” the other guard said. “Did you see someone?”

  As the guard made his way to where his partner had been, he held his shotgun in front of him. Other shots were being fired at another spot along the fence. Some were even being fired in the swamp.

  “Sounds like one of these assholes is making a break for it,” the guard said as he spotted a figure crouching nearby. “Poor bastard. What did you find there?”

  Clint had been crouched over the first guard to take away the man’s spare gun. Before the other one could get too good a look at him, Clint turned and delivered the shotgun’s handle straight into the other guard’s stomach. That blow doubled the man over and drove all the air from his lungs. Clint wasted no time before sending the shotgun up and into his chin.

  The impacts were jarring, but not deadly. Clint took away that guard’s weapons, but didn’t keep them. Instead, he took the keys from the man’s belt, tossed away whatever guns he couldn’t carry and then headed for the gate.

  With most of the guards still chasing Ed, it was easy to get into the prison. One smaller guard stood just inside the door, but froze in his tracks when Clint pointed the shotgun at him.

  “You ain’t getting out of here,” the guard said with an impressive amount of conviction in his voice.

  “Toss your weapons or you’re dead,” Clint replied with even more conviction.

  Reluctantly, the guard did as he was told.

  Clint shoved the guard toward Liddell’s cell and said, “Open it.”

  “This won’t do you any—” “Do it!”

  The guard took his keys and started unlocking the cell’s outer door.

  Although it was the same place Clint had been to a few times already, the prison seemed even smaller now. The hallway seemed especially short, making it that mush easier for more guards to fill it up, surround him and put an end to this plan for good.

  The walls closed in around Clint from all sides, making his odds for success dwindle by the second. By the time the guard had unlocked the second door and the bars swung open, Clint was fighting to remain calm as he said, “Liddell comes with me. You get in the cell.”

  Shaking his head, the guard stepped inside. Liddell practically jumped into the hallway.

  More explosions came from outside as more men shouted and ran to respond.

  Clint slammed the inner door to the cell shut and tossed the keys down the hall so they could be easily found by one of the returning guards.

  “What’re you doing? We may need those!” Liddell shouted.

  Clint shoved Liddell with the butt of the shotgun and said, “Just move.”

  Prisoners from all sides screamed and rattled their bars, begging to be set free. Clint ignored every last one of them as he and Liddell rushed out the front door of the prison. The moment they stepped outside, they spotted a few guards crouching over the two that had been knocked out.

  “Hey!” one of those guards shouted. “There they are!”

  Clint fired the shotgun high and to the right, which was enough to buy him and Liddell a few seconds.

  “What the hell do we do now?” Liddell asked.

  Clint headed for the surrounding swamp and told him, “Now we get the hell out of here.”

  “This swamp’s supposed to be trapped!”

  “Then this should be a whole lot of fun.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Liddell ran as quick as lightning, but he was even louder than a thunderstorm. When he wasn’t complaining or swearing to Clint, he was yelping and fussing about the gunshots that filled the swamp even thicker than the moss that grew over everything.

  When an explosion went off that was close enough to make them both stumble a few steps, Liddell hollered, “They’re trying to blow us up!”

  “Shut your mouth, stay close and just do what I tell you,” Clint said.

  “What about—”

  “Jump!”

  “What?”

  Seeing that Liddell hadn’t followed his command, Clint turned and fired the shotgun at Liddell’s feet. That sent the prisoner straight into the air and almost into a tree.

  “What the hell?” Liddell shouted.

  “You nearly set off one of those traps. I’ve got this area scouted, so do what I say when I say it because I’m not about to give away our position with another gunshot.”

  “All right,” Liddell said as he rushed to keep up with Clint. “But what if they toss some of them explosives at us?”

  “Those explosions are covering our trail. Just ignore them and keep running. Now jump.”

  This time, Liddell did what he was told and cleared another thin rope that had been strung through the grass.

  Clint kept his head down and his eyes open. Since he’d walked this path after the last
time he’d come to visit the prison, Clint knew that there were only a few simple traps scattered here and there. The area wasn’t even patrolled too heavily and, thanks to Ed’s dynamite, was all but empty at the moment.

  Clint and Liddell kept running, despite the fact that they could barely see more than a few feet in front of them. They both stumbled and knocked their heads on low branches plenty of times before their eyes became accustomed to the murky darkness. Even then, they weren’t able to run at full speed.

  The guards, on the other hand, weren’t so careless. They were already swarming through the swamp, carrying lanterns and torches to make sure nothing around them could hide in the shadows. This also meant that Clint could pick out every last one of those guards just by looking over his shoulder and counting the flickering sources of light.

  “They’re getting closer!” Liddell said.

  “I can see that.”

  “We won’t be able to run all the way out of here.”

  “We won’t have to.”

  Not long after Clint said that, he rushed into the spot where Eclipse was waiting for him. The Darley Arabian fidgeted from one leg to another as things either slithered against his hooves or buzzed in his ears. When Clint got closer, the stallion fidgeted even more.

  “I know, boy,” Clint said under his breath as he quickly checked the horse. “I want to get out of here too.”

  “Where’s my horse?” Liddell asked.

  “You’re riding with me.”

  “But there’s another horse right over there!”

  “That’s not yours. Now, are you coming with me or would you rather let these nice men with shotguns escort you back to your cell?”

  Liddell kept right on fussing as he accepted the arm Clint offered and climbed into the saddle behind him. Even before he was settled in, Liddell grabbed hold of whatever he could to keep from falling as Eclipse charged forward.

  Even though he was impressed at having made it this far, Clint gritted his teeth and held on to the reins with sweating palms. Riding through the swamp was just as dangerous as running through it. They may have been beyond most of the traps, but there were still plenty of things to tangle up or nip at Eclipse’s legs.

  Shapes that Clint thought were logs started moving and opening large mouths when they saw the Darley Arabian coming. Clint had to give those shapes a wide berth whenever he could. Some of the gators moved too quickly to be avoided, so Clint snapped the reins and managed to outrun the squat eating machines.

  Gunshots blasted through the air, but the sounds were getting farther and farther away. Soon, those shots were replaced by another sound.

  Liddell heard that sound also and swatted Clint’s shoulder while announcing, “There’s someone behind us!”

  Clint turned to look and saw another horse burst from the denser swamp that he’d just left behind. Pulling back on the reins, Clint drew his pistol and waited for the other horse to get closer so he could see more than just a shape.

  When he finally caught sight of the rider, Clint turned back around. “It’s all right,” he said. “He’s with me.”

  The trees had cleared up a bit and the ground had gotten more solid under Eclipse’s feet. Clint straightened up, yanked the bandanna down from his mouth and pulled in a relieved breath. Once Ed got a bit closer, Clint snapped his reins again and allowed Eclipse to put some more distance between him and that swamp.

  Behind Clint, Liddell was twisting and turning to alternate looking over his left and right shoulders. “Where’s the rest of the guards?”

  “Probably trying to get to their own horses.”

  “Will they be able to catch is?”

  “Hell no,” Clint said with absolute certainty.

  “Then we did it?”

  “Looks that way.”

  Liddell leaned his head back and let out a victorious howl. As much as Clint wanted to tell him to shut up, he knew only too well how he felt. In fact, Ed joined in and the two men howled at the sliver of a moon like two wolves out for their first hunt.

  THIRTY

  Clint and Ed split up soon after they’d spotted each other riding away from the swamp. They quickly lost sight of each other’s horse, but knew precisely where the other was, since they’d worked everything out ahead of time.

  Although he never would have admitted as much to the one-eyed man, Clint was certain they could get away with what they’d done because Ed was one hell of a tracker. Since he knew a hundred ways to find a man, that also meant he knew a hundred ways to keep from being found. When they’d been planning this night, Ed had rattled off a dozen different methods to stay ahead of whoever might come after them. From what he’d seen, Clint figured half that number would have been enough.

  While Clint rode in the route Ed had set up, Ed rode in an erratic line to stomp over Eclipse’s tracks while laying down another set that led in the wrong direction. Ed dropped a few hints here and there like half a spent fuse or part of a casing for a stick of dynamite to give the other trackers hope. He kept himself busy for hours while Clint rode as fast as Eclipse could run.

  When he finally got to the spot they’d picked out on their way from Texas, Clint felt as if he was going to fall from the saddle. The sun was well over the horizon and the scenery had shifted from one extreme to another. Compared to the damp, muddy lands where Callahan and Boudreaux were located, the sandy rocks across the Texas border were downright comforting.

  “Are we stopping?” Liddell asked wearily.

  Clint let out a breath and peeled the muddy bandanna from the top of his head. “Yeah. We’re stopping.”

  Liddell dropped from Eclipse’s back and squatted a couple times to work the kinks from his legs. “Where you going?” he asked.

  Leading Eclipse by the reins, Clint walked toward what appeared to be a large rut not too far away. “There’s a stream over here. That’s where I’m going.”

  It was early evening before Clint had finished cleaning off himself and Eclipse, made camp, gathered some food and prepared a meal. Liddell did his part to help, but not until he’d been coaxed out of sitting on his ass like he was on vacation.

  Clint heard the approaching horse and immediately stopped what he was doing. He plucked the modified Colt from its holster and watched as a horse in the distance drew closer. By this time, he was able to spot Ed’s horse from miles away. Clint’s nerves were still jangling enough that he didn’t put his gun away until Ed had arrived and hopped down from his saddle.

  Letting out another howl, Ed was grinning from ear to ear as he walked over and slapped Clint on the back. “Goddamn, that was fun! I can’t believe we did it!”

  “Thanks, friend,” Liddell said as he stepped forward and offered his hand. Although he’d started off with a smile on his face that was just as wide as Ed’s, Liddell wasn’t smiling when he saw the way Ed looked back at him. “I’m Rand Liddell. I’m the man who—”

  “I know who you are,” Ed interrupted. “You’re the man that’s gonna do just what he’s told or you’ll be the man who gets buried in a shallow grave, you hear me?”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “It’s all right,” Clint said. “He’s been behaving himself.”

  Even as he nodded to acknowledge Liddell’s presence, Ed shoved the man away almost hard enough to push him over a rock. Looking back to Clint, Ed asked, “Did you say that place was a prison? It was more like a goddamn joke!”

  “What are you laughing about? Those guards made you run like a scalded dog.”

  “Maybe, but they’ll be running in circles for a long time before they ever catch up with us.”

  “Did they get close back there?” Clint asked a bit more seriously.

  Ed shrugged that off and said, “A few times, but not too close. After I set off that dynamite, they weren’t too anxious to get me cornered.”

  “Did you hurt anyone with those blasts?”

  “Nah, but I would’ve liked to.” Clint listened to that reply extra carefully. He stu
died Ed’s face for any sign of a lie and was glad when he didn’t find one.

  “What about you?” Ed asked, watching Clint almost as carefully. “Did you get that one out of there without a hitch?”

  “More or less. A few are going to wake up with a hell of a headache, but they should be all right.”

  Clint wasn’t the only one who could tell a lot just by looking at a man’s face. Ed narrowed his eyes and studied Clint for a few seconds before nudging him with an elbow. “I know some big-time law dogs who crack skulls harder than you ever would. Were they flopping around after they fell over?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t worry. I make a living out of quieting unwilling fellows for a long ride, and it sounds to me like you did just fine.”

  Clint chuckled and nodded. “Those men were just doing their job. They shouldn’t get killed for it.”

  Draping an arm around Clint’s shoulder, Ed turned and started walking away from the camp and Liddell. Clint allowed himself to be led for a little ways just to see what Ed was leading up to.

  “You sure you got the stomach for this?” Ed asked in a low voice.

  Clint shook out from under Ed’s arm and looked him straight in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “First of all, I’m amazed you went along with this at all. I know this is a good way to go about getting Brewer, but it’s not exactly your style.”

  “There wasn’t time for much of anything else,” Clint replied.

  “We could always have waited until Brewer slipped up.”

  “He may not slip up. And if he does, it probably won’t be until after he’s gunned down some more innocent men. We’ve already been through this.”

  “I know,” Ed said calmly. “I just don’t want you to change your mind in midstream. We’re already too far to turn back, and I don’t want you to start losing your...”

  Sensing where Ed was going, Clint lowered his head and glared at the one-eyed man intently. “Losing my what, Ed?”

  With his mouth still open, Ed swallowed the rest of what he was going to say, held up his hands and took a step back. “Never mind. I guess I just misjudged you, Adams.”