Showdown With Fear (8 page)

In the street by Harry’s place, he had gathered the men for a plan of action, and Helen, with Joe by her side, went across to join them. Harry saw her and stopped in the middle of his talk.

‘Gee, I’m awful sorry ma’am, about Ned Pearce. We was all his friends.’

Heads turned to look at her and they all muttered their agreement with that statement.

‘Thank you Mr. Boak. Now, I take it you’re preparing for unwelcome visitors? So can I be of any help? I can shoot and ride, as I said before. I want to be with you men.’

No-one could argue against that. Harry welcomed her.

The tears would have to come later, in the dark.

Chapter 7

It didn’t take long for John and Sam McVie to climb up to the Nest, but unfortunately, Stobart’s men saw the way they went as well. Stobart was still too drunk to fully register any useful facts, but his men were alert to the situation. McVie told them to stay where they were, and only Sam, followed at a distance by Barero, went up to see what was going on.

When they finally reached the cavern, they saw Grip lying next to the Gatling. He was in pain, and called for them to help him.

‘They was kids... blast my heart, boss! Two kids and they pulled this one on me... the oldest trick in the world... playin’ sick like... it was the girl...I must be soft in the head.’

‘Nobody ever disputed that, Grip.’ Sammy twisted the knife.

Barero arrived and tutted at the big man, who was writhing in agony.

‘Hey,
amigo
... you gone plain
loco
?’

‘I’ll give you some words to eat, you Mex idiot, smilin’ there... stinkin’ of bad whisky! Git me somethin’ for this... the bullet’s gone clean through. I think it missed the bone, but it’s awful painful, John.’

‘I think Stobart’s got some medical supplies. I’ll see what I can do. Anyways, the kids can’t get far. Where will they go? They’ve no horses. We’ll get after them soon as you’re patched up, old feller.’

John sent Barero to fetch whatever lotions or bandages Stobart had to offer. He had realised of course that now he would have to share this place with Stobart. He would know all about the Rattler’s Nest now. He would have to trust him just a little way, and watch him like a hawk, naturally.

In half an hour, John was ready to consider the runaways. He decided that Barero should be given the job, with some help from a couple of Stobart’s men. But before he could send Barero on his way, the now, more sober Stobart called a meeting. He stomped up to the cavern, stepped in a few strides, and in the early sunshine, saw the impressive sight of cases of weapons and army supplies stacked to a mighty ceiling. He gestured for his men behind to take a good look, then complimented the McVies.

‘Hell, you did this... with just five of you? I can’t rightly say I believe that, John. How in damnation did you do it boy? There must be two dozen cases of carbines there... and some big stuff... and bullets to last for a year! What did you do?’

‘Easy. I made friends in the right places and worked by night.’

‘You mean bribery and corruption?’

His men laughed and Sammy gave a wry smile.

‘C’mon, sit yerselves down here, we got some sorting out to do... like what to do with all this power.’

‘Just a minute... I got to get Filippo after these kids. Pete Mullen was here and he got away.’

Stobart’s face screwed up as he racked his brain. ‘Mullen... I know that name...why, sure, we been watchin’ Dan Mullen for you! This his boy?’

‘Yeah. Just as much trouble as his pa.’

‘I recall that Dan Mullen. He’s a hard man. Got the strength of three men and the wits of ten. You gotta respect that feller.’

John said nothing, but told Sammy to get some coffee and beans on the go, as John himself gave Barero his orders. He was to bring them back alive. He asked Stobart for two good men to ride with Barero, and they were gone, knowing they had an easy task. ‘They’ll be dead on their feet by now... a few miles towards the river, okay. Bring ‘em in, Filippo.’

‘
Si, no problema...
’

‘Remember...
alive
, Filippo.

The fire was lit. Grip, still moaning, lay down with a tight bandage on his shin and a few words of comfort from John. Stobart scraped his beans up and took a long drink of hot coffee. They were all quiet, waiting for his thoughts on the Nest to be expressed. John was expecting something devious, so made a pact with himself not to smile or respond in any way until the man was finished.

‘Now see, I been wonderin’ about this famous Nest. There have been rumours about this through the county and beyond. Rumour is there’s a place for deserters and killers here, as long as they can pay their way.’

He looked eye-to-eye with John to see if this was confirmed. John said simply, ‘No truth in that rumour.’

‘Okay... well, I was just sayin’. Now be that as it may, I’ve now seen the place and I would like to suggest something to you, friend. See, most men running out of the law’s way, they are plain dumb. They are dumb ‘cos they work alone and suspect every other body of wantin’ to turn them in for a few bucks. They live in fear like scutterin’ rats. Now, I been on the run for three years, and what have I done? I got myself stronger and stronger, that’s what? And you know why?’

Sammy couldn’t take any more of this showing-off without some sort of response. He had to cut in. ‘Tell us, oh Great One! We’d like to learn from the King!’ His sarcastic tone and boyish grin brought no smile from Stobart, who was marking him down as good corpse material.

‘It’s because, because I got so strong, nobody can take me on ... I do the decidin’, see?’

‘I see, Stobart.’ John took some coffee. ‘So you got an offer?’

‘Well I’ll be frank with you boys. Yesterday I was happy to pay you the money and take the arsenal off you, go my way and leave you. But now I seen this wonder... well, how about we really seal a partnership and set up a real place here? A grand-scale headquarters for all the renegades scootin’ about lookin’ over their shoulders? The Mex boys, the bank-robbers, the deserters... how about we charge ‘em dollars or dues for their stay? We do sweet nuthin’ but lord it here-abouts? Don’t that seem dandy?’

Sammy wanted to put his fist in the slobbish, unshaven face. Grip wished he still had the Gatling trigger nearby and John said nothing, just kept his face still and expressionless. Stobart played for time, calling out to those behind him, ‘You like that idea boys?’ There were sounds of agreement. But still John played it cool.

‘Look, John, walk over to this entrance-way here. I’ll show you somethin’ interesting to a man like you... a man with grand ideas.’

John stood up and went to stand beside Stobart, who pointed down at his men, who were all sitting about, eating, talking or playing cards on rocks. Some were seeing to their mounts, some cleaned their guns.

‘See... that crowd down there... now there’s six - see - from Texas. Robbers. Over there I got a band of rebels from Mexico. There I got Apache scouts who got sick of the army. I got all types and races. Why do they stay with me? Because they got security. Offer a man a chance to eat without keeping a gun cocked and his eyes rovin’ the bush, and he’ll love you.’

John had to admit that Stobart had a point. They seemed a happy bunch. But it was such a massive outfit. John liked to work small and disappear into the crowd, not be the crowd that every finger pointed at when there was bother.

‘I’ll think on it some... okay?’

‘Okay....meanwhile, I do have one man missin’.... well overdue.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, Chaps Dean should have reported in last night... Chaps is watchin’ your man ... erm, Mullen.’

‘Failed to report in?’ John repeated the words. He knew it, felt it in his bones that Mullen had done it again. He had somehow worked free and could be anywhere. How many times had he thought his way near to that man and missed him, outwitted and out planned?

‘Stobart... this Chaps... he a good man?’

‘Best tracker I got... army experience.’

Sam McVie was in tune with his brother’s thoughts as well. ‘John, he could be watchin’ us now. He’ll be here for his boy. And, what the hell’s he gonna do when there
ain’t
no son here?’

‘Don’t worry little brother, Barero will bring the kid in. And anyway, it’s one man against an army, right?’

Stobart was aware of their talk about Mullen. He asked what the matter was.

‘Now, see... I’d back you a thousand dollars you don’t see Chaps no more. We’ll find his body out there, and Dan Mullen is most likely watchin’ us now, schemin’ up some mad plan.’

‘Mullen again! We seem to be in love with the name eh? Let’s rub him out like a boot on a petal, yeah?’ He grinned, then went on, ‘See, as I was sayin’.... with friends, you can do that... get the odds on your side, John.’

*

As they spoke, Dan Mullen was not watching them. He was unstrapping Chaps and passing on a message.

‘Now you walk across there and tell McVie that...’

But as he spoke, Ned Pearce, who was watching out for any movement on the horizon, called out, ‘I see something there...there’s figures!’

‘Sorry, I have to tie you again.’ The prisoner was gagged and tied and left safe, away from any action. Dan ran across to his field-glasses and then lay next to Pearce. He took a close look. What he saw was a man standing over something on the ground, something that may or may not be another person. He couldn’t make out any features, but it was a man.

‘I need to ride a mite closer, Pearce. You watch this man real close.’

‘Be careful... I’m just a store man, remember?’

Dan mounted and trotted nice and easy toward the figures. It could be a trap. He knew that there were marauders all over this place, and that if McVie could out-think him, it would be less risky that trying to out-gun him. That was how John McVie thought. He rode on, into the sun, the glare making it difficult to see anything. But when he heard gun-shots, there was nothing else to do but spur on and get there quick.

Dan rode close enough to make out two figures squatting behind a boulder, and he could make out three men just dismounting, about three hundred yards beyond. There was no cover apart from some low scrub and scattered rocks maybe three or four feet high, and one huge cactus. The horsemen were in the open, and went down and behind their horses to shoot. It was a distinctly uneven contest. Only one of the two men behind the boulder was firing. He couldn’t make out the other. Dan dismounted and left his horse tethered at the nearest rock of a reasonable size, then crept on his belly with rifle and field-glasses in hand. He took a look through the glasses, now he was close enough to get a good look.

He heart seemed to leap into his mouth with a sudden mixture of shock and delight when he saw Sara, lying supine, covered with a small jacket. It was clearly her, and the man shooting the rifle was, without any doubt at all, his son Pete.

‘God! This is fate on my side at last... my boy there, just when he needs me... I’m here. Now who are them bastards?’

‘Hey...
muchacho
... come on home. I do not want to keel you!’ A voice called, clearly a Mex. Maybe they were renegades? Or, Dan thought of the worst option, could it be one Filippo Barero?

Dan couldn’t get any closer without being seen. Where he was, he had the advantage of being unknown. They had no idea he was there. He could see one man quite clearly, and the other two seemed to be spread out further across. It was obvious what they were doing, flanking the kids. So it was true, they must have orders to take them alive. That certainly made things easier for Dan. He would bury himself in whatever cover he could find and pick off the outlaws as they came around behind the kids.

He moved back and looked around for decent cover. There was just one place, where the ground dipped into a hollow about fifteen feet across. He could be well out of sight in the hollow. He slithered across like a snake and sprawled, legs apart and rifle ready, about fifty yards behind Pete and Sara. It was just a case of waiting for whoever would come around.

What was worrying Dan most was the fact that Sara had not moved. Doubts began to nag at him. How had they come to be there so early in the day? Where were their horses? But his mental explorations were halted by the sight of two men appearing to his left, behind a boulder, working their way to Pete’s blind side. They were going to jump them, alright.

The men were not Mexicans. They looked like cowpokes, guns slung low, and broad-rimmed hats. Fit and moving with alacrity, they were clearly in good shape, hard and wiry. Dan raised his gun and got one of them in sight. They were so close together, it was going to be an easy task to pick them both off in seconds, before there was time for any reaction. He squinted and put his finger gently on the trigger. It was only then that a nervy feeling came across him in a wave of doubt. He realised that he was about to do something he hadn’t done in years - kill a man close up. The shooting earlier had been nice and distant. You were aiming at a speck of movement. But now he could see the blue shirt, and he could even make out the tuft of long hair hanging loose under the hat. He was about to kill someone. He had to gather energy from inside, a sheer effort of will, reminding him that it was these men or his son, Pete. These men were hired killers, and who knows what they were about to do? He noticed that one man had a rope and knife ready. The other had drawn his gun.

Something about the sight of the knife blanked out any inkling of doubt in Dan’s mind. It was all over in two blinks. The first bullet hit the man in the square of the back and he fell, lifeless. His partner turned towards Dan, and he was hit in the throat by the second bullet. Dan raced up over the edge of the hollow and towards his son. He called out, ‘Pete... it’s your pa! It’s me... Dan...’ as he ran.