The Loner: Rattlesnake Valley
Page 18
They left their horses behind and stole toward the settlement. As they drew closer, The Kid heard the faint strains of a player piano’s notes floating through the air. It was a melancholy tune, not quite a funeral dirge but almost, and for a moment it threatened to unnerve him.
Then he saw something that stiffened his resolve as anger coursed through him.
Someone had planted a pole in the middle of the street in front of the Rattler’s Den, and in the light that spilled through the windows along the street, The Kid saw a flag attached to that pole. It flapped gently in the breeze, standing out just enough for him to see what was emblazoned on it.
The skull and crossbones. A pirate flag.
Since it was right in front of the Rattler’s Den, The Kid was more sure than ever that he would find Black Terence Malone in there, along with the prisoners. The flag was a challenge, a defiant slap in the face to anyone who dared to oppose Malone.
The Kid pointed it out to Gray Hawk as they crouched behind an old abandoned wagon at the edge of town. “Malone’s in there,” he whispered. “I’d stake my life on it.”
“That is what you are doing,” Gray Hawk said. “As well as the lives of El Capitán and the señorita.”
The Yaqui didn’t have to remind him of that. The Kid knew all too well how much was riding on the actions he would take in the next hour or so. Although the lights of the town made it impossible to see beyond it, he knew that the gray arc of approaching dawn filled more than a quarter of the sky. The breeze held a hint of coolness that could only be found in the hours around dawn.
It was likely that Malone had placed gunmen on top of some of the buildings. They could keep an eye on everything from up there, and they would have a good field of fire for their rifles, as well.
Knowing that, The Kid pointed to a nearby building that didn’t have any windows facing them. Gray Hawk nodded. They darted out from behind the wagon and ran to the building, where they slid along the wall to the building’s rear corner. Risking a look, The Kid saw a ladder leaning against the rear wall, but none of Malone’s men were anywhere in sight. His lips curved in a chilly grin. His hunch seemed to have been confirmed. He motioned for the Yaqui to follow him and went to the ladder.
He didn’t try to be quiet as he climbed it. When he got to the top, he stepped over the shallow wall to the building’s flat roof. A false front rose above the street to give the illusion of a second story, and as The Kid glanced out from under the pulled-down brim of his hat, he saw two hard cases standing behind that false front, holding rifles. He sauntered toward them, comfortable in the knowledge that he was supposed to be here.
One of the men glanced over a shoulder at him. “It’s about time somebody showed up,” the man complained. “We was supposed to be relieved half an hour ago.”
If Malone had fifty men on his payroll, it was likely that not every one of them knew all the others that well. The Kid needed just enough time to reach the men, and in the shadows atop the roof, he got that. He was within a few steps of them before the second man looked back and said, “Shit, that ain’t—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the exclamation. The Kid struck with blinding speed, whipping the butt of his Colt down on the man’s head. Even as he buffaloed the hired gun, something flickered past him. The other man staggered and made a gurgling sound. The rifle he’d been holding thudded to the roof. The Kid looked over and saw the man pawing futilely with both hands at the knife embedded in his throat. He finally succeeded in pulling it free, which unleashed a flood of crimson down the front of his shirt.
The Kid grabbed both men—the unconscious one and the dying one—and lowered them to the roof so they wouldn’t make a lot of noise when they fell. It was bad enough that they had dropped their rifles. Of course, it wouldn’t matter if none of Malone’s men were inside the building to hear the thuds.
As The Kid glanced toward the rear of the building, he saw Gray Hawk at the top of the ladder. That had been a hell of a throw, he thought, to plant a knife in the hardcase’s throat in poor light. But it didn’t surprise him that Gray Hawk had been able to make it. The Kid had a feeling the Yaqui was one of the most dangerous individuals whose trail he had ever crossed. He motioned for Gray Hawk to join him.
From there he could look down the street and across the roofs of the buildings. It was a cross street, but it intersected Main four buildings away, where two more of Malone’s men were on top of the roof. They didn’t seem to have noticed the commotion Morgan and Gray Hawk had created.
“If we get rid of those two,” The Kid whispered, “we can reach the alley that runs behind the Rattler’s Den.”
Gray Hawk nodded as he retrieved his knife. “Yes. But we cannot take a chance on this one waking up.”
Before The Kid realized what Gray Hawk meant the Yaqui bent over and cut the throat of the man The Kid had knocked out. It was a mighty effective way to make sure the varmint stayed quiet, The Kid thought, and he wasn’t going to mourn any gun-wolf who decided to work for a man like Black Terence Malone.
From where he stood The Kid watched the two guards at the corner building. They had their backs to him and Gray Hawk and were looking out at Main Street. The Kid studied the gaps between the buildings, then went back and pulled the ladder up. He laid it across the gap from roof to roof, then glanced at Gray Hawk. The Yaqui nodded approvingly and stepped up to go first, walking across the ladder to the next building with impressive stealth and agility.
The Kid followed. He didn’t have any particular fear of heights—those single-story buildings weren’t all that tall to begin with—but he was aware of the empty air under the ladder as he made the crossing. As soon as he was over, he picked up the ladder and carried it to the next gap between buildings. The false fronts concealed them from any watchers on the roofs across the street, except for the few seconds it took to cross from building to building. They would have to trust to luck that they wouldn’t be spotted.
A few minutes later, they stepped onto the roof of the building at the corner. Their feet crunched a little on the gravel and tarpaper as they came up behind the two sentries. But the men weren’t expecting any trouble until dawn, and certainly not any that came from behind them. Though they started to turn around to see what was going on, they didn’t have a chance. The Kid slammed his gun into the side of one man’s head while Gray Hawk caught the other from behind, clapped his free hand over the gunnie’s mouth, and drove the knife into the man’s back with his other hand. More blood bubbled onto the roof a moment later as Gray Hawk slashed the throats of both men.
It was brutal business, The Kid thought, but Malone had called the tune for that dance. More importantly, at least four of Malone’s men were dead, and it was entirely possible that the other Yaquis were whittling down the odds even more as they slipped into town and took care of any guards they encountered.
Another ladder was in place against the rear wall of the corner building. The Kid and Gray Hawk climbed down it and found themselves in the alley that ran behind the Rattler’s Den. They trotted silently along the shadowy passage until they reached the rear of the saloon.
The back door was locked. The Kid looked up and saw a window on the second floor that was open a few inches. They should have brought one of the ladders with them, he thought. The room beyond the open window was dark, and it could be their way in.
He pointed it out to Gray Hawk and whispered, “I can try to boost you up there.”
The Yaqui shook his head. “No, I will boost you, as you put it. You are good with a gun, señor, and there may be gun work to do in there.”
The Kid couldn’t dispute that. He didn’t want a gunfight, because the noise would alert the rest of Malone’s men scattered through town that something was going on, but it might come to that if he was going to save Diana and her uncle.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s see if you can get me in there. If I can, I’ll come down and unlock that door for you.”
G
ray Hawk bent down and laced his fingers together to make a step. The Kid put his left foot in it and used his right leg to push himself up as Gray Hawk lifted him. He thrust his arms as far above his head as he could reach and strained to hook his fingers over the sill of the open window.
He caught hold of the sill and hung there for a second with Gray Hawk supporting part of his weight, then gathered his strength and pulled himself up closer to the window. He got an arm all the way over the sill and hooked his elbow on it. The strain in his shoulders was terrific as he used his other hand to push the window up farther.
With his toes finding tiny gaps between the boards of the wall, he pulled himself all the way up so that he could clamber over the window sill and into the room. He sprawled on the floor and wrapped his hand around the butt of the Colt on his hip as he waited to see what was going to happen.
The answer was…nothing. The room remained dark and quiet. It was deserted, just as The Kid hoped.
He got to his feet and made his way carefully through the darkness toward the door, or rather, where he hoped the door was. He didn’t want to knock anything over and alert his enemies that he was there. When the fingers of his outstretched left hand brushed smooth wood, he slid them down until he found the knob. It turned easily and he eased the door open an inch, no more.
He peered through that narrow gap as light spilled through it. From that angle, he could see a short distance down a dimly lit hallway. It seemed to be empty as well, but he could hear voices coming from somewhere else in the building. One of them was a deep rumble that might belong to Wolfram. That was more evidence, as if The Kid needed it, that Malone had made the Rattler’s Den his headquarters in Bristol.
The Kid opened the door farther. He could see that there were other doors along the corridor, but they were all closed. At the end of the hall was the balcony that overlooked the saloon’s main room. The Kid stole in to the corridor and made his way toward the balcony.
He stopped when he was still well back where he couldn’t be seen easily from below. Taking off his hat, he dropped into a crouch and eased forward, gradually flattening out until he was on his belly. He crawled toward the balcony and paused to look both ways along it before venturing closer to the railing. The balcony was empty.
The Kid suspected that everyone in the building except him was downstairs. Malone would have wanted to have all his prisoners where he could keep an eye on them without much trouble. Keeping his head down, The Kid moved closer to the edge of the balcony.
The long, polished bar came into view. The Kid’s heart raced when he saw Sophia Kincaid standing beside it, a worried frown on her beautiful face. She appeared to be all right, and that was a relief to him. Several young women in short, spangled dresses stood at the bar with her. They had to be the girls who worked in the saloon. He didn’t see any customers and wondered if Malone had forced them all out at gunpoint when he took over the town. The Kid suspected that if Malone had issued orders for everyone to go back to their homes, most of the folks in Bristol would have obeyed out of fear for their lives.
Farther along the bar, Jefferson Parnell leaned his elbows on the hardwood. He had a drink in front of him and sipped on it from time to time. He looked worried and more than a little frightened, The Kid thought. If the newspaperman was working with Malone, he wouldn’t be so scared. The theory that had floated through The Kid’s mind earlier about Parnell selling them out to Malone seemed groundless now. But The Kid still had plenty of other questions about Jefferson Parnell.
Those questions would have to wait to be answered. Black Terence himself came into view, strolling over to the bar to stand next to Sophia.
“You might as well relax and have a drink like Parnell there,” Malone told her. “This will all be over soon.”
“Because everybody from Diamondback will be dead?” Sophia shot back at him with a note of defiance in her voice. “Because you’ll be the lord and master of this whole valley?”
“Something like that,” Malone admitted with a confident grin.
“You’re mighty sure that you’re going to win this fight.”
“I ought to be. My men outnumber Starbird’s this time, and we have the advantage of the high ground. As soon as Rocklin and the others ride into town, they’ll be slaughtered like sheep.”
“What about Kid Morgan?”
“What about him? He’s just one man. I’m not afraid of him. Maybe if we capture him, I’ll give him to Wolfram. I think he’d like that…wouldn’t you, Wolfram?”
An answering growl came from somewhere below the balcony.
“When Wolfram’s through with The Kid, how about lettin’ Early and me have a crack at him, boss?” That question came from Breck, who was also somewhere underneath the balcony, probably at one of the tables. All of Malone’s lieutenants were there.
Malone said, “Sure, if he’s still alive, you two can have the pleasure of filling him full of holes, Breck. There’s only one man in this valley I care about killing with my own hands.” He turned to look to his right. “And you know who that is, don’t you, Captain?”
Chapter 28
Owen Starbird didn’t respond to Malone’s taunting words, but Diana did. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you, Malone!” she blazed. “Somehow, I’ll make you pay!”
Malone threw back his head and laughed. “You won’t do anything except what I tell you to do, my dear. You’re going to be my good, faithful, obedient wife at home on Diamondback—my ranch, Diamondback—while this little morsel,” he ran his hand up Sophia’s bare arm, “will comfort me whenever I’m in town. Isn’t that right?”
“Go to hell,” Sophia said through clenched teeth. “Oh, I forgot…that’s what you’re going to turn this valley into, isn’t it?”
“If Rattlesnake Valley is hell, then I’m Lucifer himself!” Malone boasted. Again he gave a booming laugh. “This is my kingdom now, and none of you should ever forget it!”
He was loco, The Kid thought. Stark, raving mad. But the fact that Malone was crazy didn’t make him any less dangerous. Malone closed his hand around Sophia’s arm and jerked her tightly against him. As he brought his mouth down on hers, she struggled fiercely to get away from him, but she was no match for his huge size and overpowering strength. When he finally broke the kiss, Sophia’s hand flashed up and cracked across his face. Malone growled and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. She cried out in pain as she landed in a huddled heap at Parnell’s feet.
“I should have hanged you when I had the chance,” Starbird said in the stunned silence.
Malone wheeled around and sneered. “Yes, you should have, Captain,” he said, “because you’ll never get that opportunity again!”
Breck walked into view, resting his hand on the butt of his revolver. “Gonna be dawn soon,” he said as he looked out the saloon’s front window. “What if they don’t show up, boss?”
“Then we’ve won without firing a shot,” Malone said. “The valley will be ours.”
Even with the four killers The Kid knew were all in the saloon—Malone, Wolfram, Breck, and Early—the odds were high against him. He couldn’t be sure if more of Malone’s men were down there, out of his line of sight, and there was no way he could get downstairs to let Gray Hawk into the building without letting them know he was there. He would have to figure out some way to take all four of them by himself. To do that, he would have to have some sort of distraction…
Standing near the front window, Breck suddenly exclaimed, “What the hell!” and clawed at the gun on his hip. Before he could draw the weapon, the window exploded inward at him, sending shards of glass showering all around him. A split second later, the barrel that had just crashed through the window slammed into Breck and knocked him off his feet.
Gray Hawk leaped through the shattered window right behind the barrel he had thrown. The old Yaqui hadn’t stayed put. He had taken matters into his own hands, obviously figuring that The Kid couldn’t let him into the building but would
need help anyway.
As Gray Hawk landed lightly on his feet, he threw his knife. The Kid heard a man cry out in pain and knew the blade had found its target. At the same time, The Kid surged to his feet and drew his Colt. Breck was trying to get up. His face was a mask of blood from dozens of small cuts inflicted by the flying glass. He pawed the crimson away from his eyes with his free hand and swung his gun toward Gray Hawk with the other.
The Kid fired before the gunman could pull the trigger. The bullet smashed into Breck’s chest and drove him back down to his knees. The Kid shot him a second time, in the head. Breck flopped backward as the slug bored through his brain and exploded out the back of his skull.
With a roar, Wolfram leaped forward, his arms going around Gray Hawk in a bear hug. The two men staggered around the room as Gray Hawk tried to break Wolfram’s grip.
The Kid wanted to help the Yaqui, but his hands were full at the moment. Redheaded Early came out from under the balcony, gun in hand, and fired up at him. Early’s bullets chewed splinters from the railing as The Kid ducked back to avoid them.
“You son of a bitch!” Early howled. “You killed Breck!”
The Kid ran for the stairs. He had to get down there. From the corner of his eye he had seen Malone jerk Sophia in front of him to serve as a human shield as the bullets began to fly. More of Early’s slugs whistled through the air in front of The Kid, however, forcing him to throw on the brakes short of the staircase.
Well, hell, The Kid thought. He would just have to get down some other way.
He lunged toward the balcony railing, put his left hand on it, and vaulted over it. He hoped it wasn’t as crazy a move as it appeared to be, as he found himself falling through the air.
Luck cooperated with him. Early had to hold his fire as The Kid dropped straight toward Wolfram and Gray Hawk. He landed on Wolfram’s back with a strong enough impact to knock the big bruiser away from the Yaqui. All three men fell against a felt-covered table that collapsed under their weight. They sprawled on the floor in a welter of debris and a tangle of arms and legs.