Leaving Epitaph

by Robert J. Randisi

  “Lawman across the street,” he said to Aaron.

  “That don’t matter,” Aaron said, looking up from his whiskey. “They’re just keepin’ an eye on us. According to Zeke, there’s one sheriff and only two deputies. You stay outside with Rafe and watch for my brother.”

  “Right.”

  That man went back outside. Aaron turned his head, looked around and settled on another. “Tate!”

  “Yeah, boss.”

  “Take a walk around town, see if you spot the other two lawmen anywhere.”

  “Yeah, boss.”

  “And take somebody with you.” He turned back around. “I don’t want any of us caught alone.”

  “Right, boss.” Tate reached out and tapped another man on the shoulder. The man followed him outside.

  Esteban Morales, seated across from Aaron, took the whole thing in but said nothing. He doubted the law would take any action unless they did first. This put his boss, Aaron Langer, firmly in control, which suited him just fine.

  Sheriff Holcomb had put Ray Winston across from the saloon and Will Strunk across from the bank. He made rounds, checking both locations out. He was down the street from the bank when he saw the two strangers coming from the other direction. Across the street, standing in a doorway, smoking a quirly, was his deputy. Blowing smoke that way was a sure way to get noticed. Both his deputies were young—ten to twelve years younger than his own thirty-six—and would have to be told.

  He claimed a doorway for himself and watched the strangers. They didn’t seem interested in the bank. Most of their attention was on the deputy. They watched him for a few moments, and Holcomb didn’t think Deputy Strunk was even aware they were there. After those few moments, they turned and headed back the other way—he assumed, to report back to their boss. Aaron Langer was clearly checking out the town and counting lawmen.

  When the men were gone, Holcomb crossed the street to bawl out his deputy.

  Thomas came up to Shaye’s side when they had only been riding about two hours.

  “Pa?”

  “Yes, Thomas?”

  “I think I can make better time alone, pushing my horse,” he said.

  “You’re probably right, Thomas.”

  “I’d be able to check out Salina in the daylight.”

  Shaye gave it some thought. “You’ll have to be careful, Thomas.”

  “I won’t make a move on them,” Thomas said, “and they won’t recognize me—”

  “That’s not what I mean. There’s going to be a lot of strangers in town. The law will assume that you’re with them.”

  “I’ll have my badge,” Thomas said. “I won’t wear it into town, but I’ll go and see the local law and introduce myself.”

  “All right,” Shaye said. “You seem to have thought this out.”

  “I have.”

  “Give your bag of supplies to one of your brothers, then, and go ahead. We’ll still stop just outside of town—about a mile or two due south—and wait to hear from you.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  “If we don’t hear something from you tonight, we’ll come on in.”

  “I’ll get back to you tonight, Pa.”

  “You’d better, son,” Shaye said. “You’d better.”

  46

  Several hours after the arrival of Aaron Langer and his gang, Sheriff Holcomb had schooled both of his deputies and hoped they would now be a little less conspicuous. He, himself, had taken a chair from his office and was sitting out front watching the street. That’s where he was when the second set of strangers rode in.

  Ethan Langer noticed the sheriff sitting in front of his office, and had the gall to tip his hat to the man.

  “Where are we supposed to meet Aaron?” Ben Branch asked.

  “In a saloon, where else?” Ethan answered.

  “Which one?”

  “I don’t know,” Ethan said. “Why don’t we try one with a deputy across the street from it.”

  That turned out to be a good plan. They saw the deputy standing in the doorway across from the Somerset Saloon and reined in their horses in front of it. They also saw two men sitting in front of the saloon.

  “Did you see the lawman across from the bank?” Branch asked Ethan.

  “I saw him,” Ethan said. “The one in front of the office is the sheriff. The other two are deputies.”

  “Think that’s all there are?”

  “I don’t know,” Ethan said, “but assuming Aaron got here before us, he’ll know. You know the two men sitting out front?”

  Branch took a look, then said, “I think one of them is Rafe Simpson.”

  Ethan knew the name. “Okay, then,” he said. “Aaron’s here. Have two of our men take the horses over to the livery.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll meet you inside.”

  Ethan dismounted and entered the saloon without looking over at the two men.

  “Asshole,” Rafe Simpson said under his breath.

  “Don’t ever let Aaron hear you say that,” the other man warned.

  “He says it himself.”

  “It’s his brother.”

  When Ben Branch stepped up onto the boardwalk, Rafe stood up and said, “Branch, ain’t it?”

  “That’s right, Rafe.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “You look short,” Rafe said, eyeing the men behind Branch. “Where’s Petry?”

  “Dead.”

  Rafe looked surprised. “He get hit when you took the bank?”

  “No,” Branch said, “Ethan killed him.”

  Rafe looked even more surprised. “Who’s segundo?”

  “Me,” Branch said, “and it ain’t a job I ever wanted.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Rafe said. “Goin’ inside for a drink?”

  Branch hesitated, then said, “I think I’ll give Ethan a coupla minutes with his brother.”

  Rafe grinned and said, “Don’t blame you for that either.”

  When Ethan walked through the door, he spotted Aaron immediately. He ignored his brother’s men and walked to the table where Aaron was sitting with his segundo, Esteban Morales.

  “It’s about time, little brother,” Aaron said. “We’ve been here for hours.”

  “Hey, we’re here,” Ethan said, tossing his saddlebags onto the table, almost upsetting the bottle of whiskey Aaron had there.

  Aaron reached down, lifted his saddlebags from the floor, and deposited them on the table with his brother’s.

  “Morales, give my brother your chair,” he said.

  Without a word, Morales stood up and walked away. Instead of joining the men at one of the other tables, he went and stood at the bar.

  “Morales!” Aaron called out. “A glass.”

  The Mexican turned, took a glass from the bartender and tossed it to his boss, who caught it with one hand. Aaron set the glass down and poured it full from the bottle. As Ethan sat, his brother pushed the glass toward him across the table.

  “Good to see you, Ethan,” Aaron said, lifting his own glass. “You look like shit.”

  “Good to see you too, Aaron.” He lifted his glass, drained it, and slapped it back down on the table.

  Ben Branch came in then, leading Ethan’s men, followed by Aaron’s two who had been sitting outside.

  “You look short a man or two,” Aaron said.

  “I had to kill Petry.”

  “Had to?”

  “No choice,” Ethan said.

  Aaron accepted his brother’s word without asking for an explanation. Once all the men were in the saloon, their total number was nineteen.

  “We’ll have to get you a couple more men,” Aaron said, “to even our number out.”

  “Whatever,” Ethan said. “We don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow. What’s with the law outside?”

  “They’re keepin’ an eye on us,” Aaron said. “Now that you’re here, they’ll be keepin’ an eye on all of us.”

  “How many?”
r />   “Three.”

  “Nothin’ to worry about?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Ethan scratched his chin, then rubbed his face with both hands. The last couple of nights, the woman had come back in full force, screamin’ until he woke up. Last night he had almost put his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, but that would have been letting her win.

  “Ethan?” Aaron said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothin’,” Ethan said. “When are we gonna count?”

  Aaron studied his brother and knew something was wrong. Ethan was keeping something from him, and that wouldn’t do.

  “Later,” Aaron said. “Have another drink.” He poured another glass. “Let’s talk awhile.”

  “About what?”

  “Let’s see what we can come up with.”

  47

  Pushing his horse hard, Thomas Shaye reached Salina one hour after Ethan Langer and his men. He paused just outside of town, his horse blowing beneath him, removed his badge and placed it in his shirt pocket. He gave the horse a few more moments to catch its breath, then started for town at a walk.

  Sheriff Holcomb was unhappy with the fact that all the strangers were in the Somerset Saloon and had been there for an hour. But at least they hadn’t gone near the bank yet. He knew they had to be planning something, though.

  Over the past couple of hours, the traffic had dwindled down until the street was empty. Word had gotten around, and people had taken to the safety of their homes, expecting an explosion. He had two deputies, and at his best count there were at least eighteen gunmen in the saloon—maybe nineteen.

  The fella riding down Main Street at the moment could well be making it twenty, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do it.

  What surprised the lawman about this man was that he rode right up to his office and stopped. Then he reined his horse in and looked down at him.

  “Can I help you?” Holcomb said.

  “You the sheriff?” the stranger asked.

  “That’s right.” The man dropped his arms to his sides, either to get his hand near his gun or to show off the badge on his chest. “Holcomb’s the name.”

  “My name’s Thomas Shaye, Sheriff,” Thomas said. He looked up and down the street. “It’s real quiet around here.”

  “A town can generally feel when trouble’s abrewin’,” the lawman explained.

  “You got trouble here?”

  “You mean you don’t know?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Your friends are in the Somerset Saloon,” Holcomb said, “if you want to join them.”

  “How many?”

  “Maybe twenty,” Holcomb said, “with you.”

  “Nineteen, then.”

  “You ain’t with them?”

  Thomas was still concerned that someone was going to see them. “Can we go in your office and talk?”

  “Give me one good reason.”

  Thomas looked around again, then removed his badge from his pocket and showed it to the sheriff.

  “Okay,” Holcomb said, getting up from his chair, “that’s a good enough reason.”

  He led the way into his office.

  Aaron and Ethan exchanged stories about their bank jobs, and Aaron was quite interested to hear about the woman.

  “So you just rode her down?”

  “The bitch stepped out in front of us, Aaron,” Ethan said. “There wasn’t any way to avoid her.”

  “You never killed a woman before, Ethan,” Aaron said. “How’d you take it?”

  Ethan snorted and said, “She got what she deserved.”

  The bags beneath Ethan’s eyes told Aaron his younger brother had not been sleeping well. Abruptly, though, he turned his head and shouted at Rafe.

  “Get back outside, we’ll want to know if that lawman is comin’ this way.”

  “Right, boss.”

  “Take somebody with you.”

  “I’ll go,” Ben Branch said. Grabbing his beer from the bar, he followed Rafe outside, but they were too late to see Thomas going into the sheriff’s office. They both saw the horse in front, but it didn’t register with either of them as unusual. They sat down and started exchanging stories about their bosses, ignoring the deputy who was still stationed across the street.

  48

  “So you’ve got a posse with you?” Sheriff Holcomb asked Thomas hopefully.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Got one comin’ behind you.” Holcomb began to pace the length of his office.

  “No,” Thomas said. “I’ve got three men waitin’ for me just outside of town. My father is the sheriff of Epitaph, me and my brothers are his deputies.”

  “Sheriff Shaye?” Holcomb asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “So there’s only four of you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you’re after these two gangs?”

  “It’s one gang,” Thomas said, “run by two brothers.”

  “Wait a minute.” The lawman stopped pacing and faced Thomas. “Are we talkin’ about…the Langer gang?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Oh my God,” Holcomb said. “I should have guessed. The leader of the first group…he must have been Aaron.”

  “I guess,” Thomas said. “We’ve been trailing Ethan Langer and his men.”

  “All the way from Texas?” Holcomb asked. “Because of a…a bank job?”

  “Not just a bank robbery,” Thomas said. “They killed a woman…my mother.”

  “Oh,” Holcomb said. “Well…I guess that’s worth travelin’ all this way.”

  “Are they all here?”

  “I guess,” Holcomb replied. “Like I said, eighteen, maybe nineteen. How many hit your bank?”

  “About eight, maybe nine.”

  “So four of you tracking eight. I guess the odds didn’t seem so bad then.”

  “How many deputies have you got?”

  “Two.”

  “So now it’s seven against nineteen,” Thomas said.

  “Not so good, eh?”

  “I guess not,” Thomas said with a shrug, “but we’ve got somethin’ they don’t.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My pa.”

  49

  James came up next to Shaye and handed him a cup of coffee. “Worried about Thomas, Pa?”

  “Yeah, I am, James.”

  They had camped about half an hour before, and James was making them something to eat. The coffee was ready first. They’d made good time and had managed to camp before dark.

  Shaye was standing away from the fire, looking off in the direction of town.

  “He’ll be okay, Pa,” James said. “Thomas is smart.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “And he’s good with a gun.”

  Shaye turned to look at his youngest son. “He’s good at shooting at tin cans and bottles, James,” he said, “and varmints. He’s never had to face another man with a gun. None of you has.”

  “But we’re gonna have to, ain’t we?”

  “Yes,” Shaye said, “yes, it’s unavoidable…unless we just quit and go back.”

  “We can’t do that, Pa,” James said. “Not after what they did to Ma. We can’t! Matthew and Thomas, they’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Shaye hesitated a moment, then said, “Yeah, I know they would.”

  “Pa,” James said, “you told us we couldn’t think about this too much. Don’t you start doing it.”

  “You’re right, James,” Shaye said. “Thank you.”

  “I better get the food ready,” James said. “Matthew’ll just burn it all up.”

  “Okay.”

  James went back to the fire, and Shaye went back to staring off into the distance, waiting for some sign of Thomas.

  “So what do you plan to do?” Holcomb asked, looking out his window. It was starting to get dark.

  “I have to ride out and get my pa and my brothers,” Thomas said. “We’ll come back
under cover of darkness.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then it’s up to you and my pa,” Thomas said. “You’re in charge here, but I think if you listen to my pa, everything’ll go okay.”

  Holcomb hesitated.

  “They probably won’t do anythin’ tonight,” Thomas said. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  “All right,” Holcomb said. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Pull your men in,” Thomas suggested.

  “Why?”

  “It’ll make them think they’re in the clear. Give them a false sense of security.”

  “A false sense of security?” Holcomb asked. “With their numbers, I don’t think it’s so false.”

  “My pa will figure out somethin’, Sheriff,” Thomas said. “Just pull your men in and wait for us here.”

  “Okay, Deputy,” Holcomb said, “okay. We’ll wait for you and your father and your brothers here, but I hope you’re right about your father comin’ up with somethin’.”

  “Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Thomas said, “he will.”

  Shaye was the first one to hear the horse, and he looked up from his plate.

  “It’s Thomas, Pa!” Matthew said.

  Both James and Matthew started to rise but Shaye waved them down and stood himself, his hand on his gun.

  “Let’s make sure,” he said. “Just be still.”

  They both settled back down, their hands on their guns, like their father. The sound of the horse came closer, and then Thomas came bursting into the light of their campfire, his horse kicking up dust as he reined it in.

  “They’re there, Pa!” he said excitedly. “They’re all there.”

  James and Matthew jumped up and joined their father in rushing to Thomas’s side.

  “Calm down, Thomas,” Shaye said, “and tell me everything.”

  50

  “What are we waitin’ for, Aaron?” Ethan demanded after his brother had kept him talking for hours. The other men in the saloon were wondering the same thing. “Let’s compare our hauls and get the split done.”

  Ethan reached for the saddlebags, but Aaron slammed a big hand down on them.

  “We’ll do the tally and the split when I say so,” he hissed at his brother. “You’ve got somethin’ on your mind, somethin’ botherin’ you, and I wanna know what it is!”