The Ghost of Iron Eyes (An Iron Eyes Western Book 8) (10 page)

Jardine nodded.

‘
Yeah,
I reckon you’re right, Toke.’

Toke Darrow boomed with
laughter. Soon the entire foyer of the hotel resounded with men
laughing. Jardine walked around his fellow outlaws, knowing that
they all had exactly the same thought as he had himself.

‘
We
ride at dawn, boys,’ Darrow told his brothers. ‘Waco ain’t gonna
know what hit it after we arrive.’

The rest of the outlaws
started laughing. Yet their laughter came from a different
place.

It took a lot to spook tough
Texas lawmen, but the fleeting glimpse of the ghostlike rider
heading towards them managed to do just that. The four horsemen
dragged their reins back and steadied their skittish mounts. They
focused through the sand-storm at the unholy vision that continued
to approach. If ever there had been a more unnerving sight, the
lawmen had never set eyes upon it. The almost skeletal rider
astride the painted Indian pony looked as if he were more dead than
alive, and yet his cold unblinking bullet-
colored eyes were fixed on the
quartet of lawmen.

Their mounts and pack-horses
shied and whinnied and forced their masters to wrestle them in
order to control them. Only Marshal Lane Clark remained calm as he
used his strong arms to hold his stallion steady.

‘
Easy,
boy!’ Clark commanded the powerful animal beneath him. ‘Ain’t
nothing to be scared of. Leastways, I don’t think there
is.’

‘
What
in tarnation is that?’ Col Drake gasped. Even after wiping the dust
from his sore eyes, he still could not understand what he was
looking at. ‘Is that an Indian?’

‘
Apache!’ Pete Hall said as he saw the rider’s long hair
flap in the sand-storm. ‘It’s an Apache!’

‘
That
ain’t no Apache, boys,’ Lane Clark shouted. He jabbed his spurs
into his stallion’s sides and pressed the horse to edge ahead of
his deputies’ mounts. ‘Keep them guns in their holsters or you’ll
regret it.’

‘
Then
if it ain’t an Apache, what is it?’ Tom Ripley asked nervously.
‘Sure looks like one to me.’

The veteran lawman studied the
gruesome sight of the rider who continued to ride towards them
through the swirling sand. He knew every inch of the horseman that
kept on coming at him
and his frightened men. Yet even Clark was shocked
by the appearance of the bounty hunter. There were more scars now
and skin that appeared to have melted on half of the gaunt
features. Clark swallowed hard and looked back at his
deputies.

‘
That,
my half-witted friends, is Iron Eyes!’ he replied. ‘The man we’ve
bin looking for.’

The trio of deputies moved
their horses forward with their pack-animals until they were beside
their marshal. Lane Clark held his reins in check and stared at the
still-approaching bounty hunter.

‘
Don’t
none of you move your hands too fast. He’s deadly and he’s hurt.
Iron Eyes could kill us all before we could clear our holsters,’
Clark warned.

‘
Damn!
He’s even uglier than you said he was,’ Ripley gasped in horror. ‘I
never seen such injuries on any living critter.’

Iron Eyes
’ legs hung almost to the
ground from the sides of the small pony. He sat with the precious
water-bag on his lap as if it were the most valuable thing he
possessed. Indeed it was. It had saved his bacon back in Devil’s
Canyon and he would not willingly give it up.

‘
Don’t
none of you make any sudden moves,’ Iron Eyes warned the four
lawmen. ‘I’m kinda testy.’

The
disheveled pony kept on responding to
the bounty hunter’s spurs as he forced it to keep cantering through
the stinging sand-storm towards the men with four gleaming stars
pinned on their vests.

‘
He
ain’t alive!’ Col Drake announced. ‘Nobody could look that bad and
still be alive, could they? He’s a ghost or something.’

Iron Eyes dragged at the
mane of his exhausted pony and stopped it right before the four law
officers. His eyes darted from one rider to the other at a speed
that only someone with instincts as sharp as his spurs could
equal.

‘
Reckon I ain’t too pretty, son,’ the bounty hunter said in
a low deliberate tone. ‘But then I never was. I’m still capable of
killing every one of you before you can blink, though.’

‘
Would
you kill us?’ Ripley asked.

‘
Nope.
I don’t waste bullets on folks with no bounty,’ Iron Eyes admitted.
‘There ain’t no damn profit in killing just for the fun of
it.’

Marshal Clark eased himself
in his saddle.

‘
Howdy, Iron Eyes. Long time since we run into each
other.’

Iron Eyes tilted his head
and stared hard at the marshal.

‘
Lane
Clark. I thought you was dead. You’re old enough to be dead and no
mistake.’

‘
Reckon it’s mutual, son,’ Clark replied. ‘Everybody thinks
that you’re dead as well. The West has been running wild with
vermin since you last claimed the bounty on an outlaw’s
head.’

Iron Eyes looked
interested.

‘
So
them outlaws think I’m dead and they’re having themselves some fun,
huh?’

‘
Too
much fun, Iron Eyes.’ Clark sighed. ‘Lots of gangs have joined
together into small armies. The law can’t cope with all the
killing.’

‘
Is
that why you came looking for me?’ the bounty hunter asked. ‘Is
that why you came out here in the middle of no place looking for
old Iron Eyes, Clark?’

‘
Yep!’

The tall man eased himself
off the back of the painted pony and then looked around the arid
landscape. His eyes seemed never to stop moving as he held firmly
on to the mane of his nervous mount.

‘
Maybe
everybody is right about the both of us, Clark. Maybe we are dead
and this is Hell.’

Clark dismounted and stood
beside the thin figure.

‘
It’s
sure hot enough. You still game to hunt bounty?’

‘
I’m
game,’ Iron Eyes drawled. ‘I’ll kill anything if the price is big
enough. Is it big enough?’

Lane Clark unbuckled one of
his saddlebag satchels and pulled out a fistful of wanted posters.
He handed them to Iron Eyes and watched as the hint of a smile
etched across the mutilated features.

‘
I
reckon that adds up to about ten thousand bucks,’ Iron Eyes
calculated aloud.

‘
Exactly ten thousand dollars, son.’ Clark nodded as he
watched the bounty hunter push the posters down into one of his
deep coat-pockets.

The deputies could not hide
their fear of the horrific-looking creature standing beside the
marshal. No one looked directly at the bounty hunter.

‘
Your
boys ain’t got very strong stomachs, Clark,’ Iron Eyes noted.
‘Ain’t one of the varmints that can look at me.’

‘
You
don’t look too pretty, Iron Eyes,’ the marshal said
honestly.

Iron Eyes nodded silently. He
knew that if he looked only half as bad as he felt, he must be a
sight that no one
would willingly cast their eyes upon.

‘
Ya
got a cigar, Clark?’ Iron Eyes asked. ‘I could sure use a smoke.
Ain’t had one in a coon’s age.’

‘
Sure
have.’ Clark nodded.

‘
What
about whiskey?’ Iron Eyes added. ‘I’d imagine that you boys must
have at least one bottle between ya.’

The marshal
smiled.

‘
Yep.
I got me a full bottle of rotgut in my saddlebag, if n you’re
interested?’

‘
I’d
drink iodine right about now, old man,’ said Iron Eyes, squaring up
to the mounted deputies. He looked at the pack-horses behind the
deputies and the bloodstained saddle tied on top of one. ‘Did ya
lose a boy on the way here?’

‘
Yep.’
Clark nodded. ‘We lost our youngest deputy back in Porter’s
Bluff.’

‘
I’ll
have his saddle,’ Iron Eyes grunted, looking at Pete Hall. ‘You
wanna get it off that pack-animal for me?’

Pete Hall gulped.

‘
Sure
enough, Iron Eyes.’ The deputy eased himself off his horse. He then
walked to the animal and untied the rawhide tethers holding the
saddle on top of the pack horse.

Iron Eyes looked straight at
the marshal.

‘
You
got any spare clothes in them packs, Clark? There ain’t much left
of mine.’

The marshal nodded
again.

‘
Reckon we can find a few things that’ll cover your modesty,
but ain’t you just a tad hungry? You look like ya ain’t eaten in
months.’

‘
I had
me a whole rattler yesterday. I’m still a tad full but if you’re
gonna rustle up some grub, I’ll help you eat it.’ The bounty hunter
turned his attention away from the marshal and looked up at the gun
on Tom Ripley’s holster.

‘
Is
that a .36 on your hip, mister?’

Ripley swallowed hard.
‘Sure
is.’

‘
Then
you must be carrying ammunition for it. I need as much as you can
spare,’ Iron Eyes said bluntly. ‘I’m almost out of shells for my
Navy Colts. If I’m to kill a whole bunch of outlaws, I’ll need
ammunition.’

Lane Clark moved to his
saddlebags and searched for the bottle and a cigar. He handed both
to the thin figure. He knew that he had made the right decision to
try and track down this elusive creature. For if he could still
think of whiskey and cigars in his condition, he could still
kill.

‘
So
you’re gonna ride with us, Iron Eyes?’ Lane Clark asked. He struck
a match and lit the end of the cigar gripped in the taller man’s
teeth.

Iron Eyes puffed and then
looked into the face before him.

‘
Sure.
You hunting bounty and without me, you’ll just end up dead,
Clark.’

‘
You
up to it?’ Clark looked hard at the gaunt figure. ‘You look like
you need to see a doctor before doing anything. Are you sure that
you’re up to hunting outlaws?’

Iron Eyes inhaled the smoke
deeply
and
then pulled the cork from the neck of the whiskey bottle. He took a
swig.

‘
Now I
am,’ Iron Eyes answered as the fiery liquor burned its way down
into his guts.

Lane Clark noticed the ragged
wound in Iron Eyes
’ shoulder where he had been hit by the Apache warrior’s
arrow. His face went pale in disbelief.

‘
What’s that?’

‘
Arrow
hit me, Clark.’ Iron Eyes poured a little of the whiskey over the
raw wound and gritted his teeth as he felt the liquor burn into his
flesh. ‘Now it’s all fixed.’

Pete Hall secured the saddle
cinch straps under the belly of the nervous pony and then walked
back to his own mount. He had never encountered anyone like the
infamous bounty hunter before.

‘
Now
you’re saddled up, Iron Eyes,’ the deputy said.

‘
Much
obliged.’ Iron Eyes nodded.

‘
Get a
fire lit and rustle up some grub, boys,’ Clark ordered excitedly as
at last he began to feel as if there was a chance that he and his
remaining men might just live through this dangerous mission.
‘After we eat, we can head on to Diamond City knowing we’ve got the
best darn gunfighter on our side. Those outlaws are in for a real
big surprise.’

‘
We
got us a slight problem though,’ said Iron Eyes, lifting the bottle
back toward his mouth.

‘
What
kinda problem?’ Clark pressed.

Iron Eyes took another long
swallow of the contents of the whiskey bottle, then exhaled slowly.
He returned the cork to the neck of the bottle and then used it to
point up towards the mesas behind them.

The four lawmen turned and
looked. They all seemed to gasp at the same moment.

‘
Oh my
God!’ Drake said loudly. ‘Injun smoke!’

‘
Smoke-signals!’ Clark muttered.

‘
Apache war smoke!’ Iron Eyes corrected.

The troop of dust-caked Texas
Rangers had barely covered a mile over the sandy terrain when they
started to realize the chilling, unavoidable truth of their
situation. With the eerie sound of Apache howls drifting on the hot
air, they knew that they would never reach the infamous
Devil
’s
Canyon in one piece. The anxious eyes of every one of the horsemen
were drawn to the dust as they continued to follow Colonel Cotter
deeper and deeper into the unknown terrain. The unshod hoofs of the
unseen Apache braves sounded like war drums to the ears of the
nervous troop of Rangers. It was coming from all around them
simultaneously.