Authors: J. R. Roberts
The Killing Blow (18 page)
“I hear you're looking for me,” Crow snarled.
FORTY
The modified Colt hung at Clint's side, but was completely useless to him at the moment. Even the rifle in his hands wasn't going to do him much good since the sharpened stone blade of the tomahawk was already pressing against the exposed flesh of his throat.
“I was looking for you, Crow,” Clint said. “But that's no reason to come at me like this.”
“I heard you and Howlett talking. While I track the man who killed my people, who killed Howlett's people, who killed countless other people, you try to cheat me out of my part of the reward money.”
“This isn't about a reward. I came out here to bring an end to Ordell's hunting, not chase after some reward.”
“Then why talk behind my back about that money?”
Clint gritted his teeth and shifted on his feet so he could get a better look at the Indian. “The first thing I asked Howlett was where I could find you. The only reason anything was said behind your back is because you were nowhere to be found. Secondly, Howlett's the one who brought up the reward at all. If you have something to say about the money, say it to him.”
Suddenly, Clint raised the stock of his rifle in a short, upward arc. The end of the gun caught the tomahawk right behind its handle and knocked it far enough away from his neck for Clint to take a step back and turn to face the Indian.
“And third,” Clint said, “I've had more than my fill of being ambushed. You're real lucky I didn't shoot you out of gut instinct.”
Crow already had his shoulders squared and his body settled into a fighting stance. He'd kept hold of his tomahawk and even brought the weapon around as if he intended on taking a swing at Clint. Instead, he straightened up and relaxed a bit.
“Fine,” Crow said. “I am not hunting this man for the money, but my part of that reward is rightfully mine. The remains of my family can use that to buy their land back from those who would take it.”
“I didn't know about the reward until you and Howlett brought it up. That's not why I'm here.”
“Then why did you want to talk to me?”
“We need to work together to get Ordell.”
“I thought we were working together,” Crow said.
“I mean working on the same plan, not running through these woods looking for the same man. If we just get our heads together on a simple course of action, we can save ourselves from crossing paths, covering the same ground a dozen times and jumping at each other's footsteps.”
Nodding, Crow said, “I heard you say as much to Howlett. That is a good idea.”
Clint sighed and lowered his rifle. “Jesus, Crow, that's all there is. No need to make a production out of it.”
But the Indian kept staring at Clint. His fist tightened even more around his tomahawk and his chest rose and fell like a set of bellows with every powerful breath. He started to talk a few times, but couldn't get the words out. Finally, he said, “That is not all.”
“I'm listening.”
“You have seen my sister.”
Nodding, Clint said, “I have. Rain's been relaying messages and she even brought me a blanket.”
“She has spoken of you.”
“And?”
Crow's nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath through his nose and let it out from between clenched teeth. The muscles in his arm twitched as he slowly brought his tomahawk up to waist level. “You have . . . been with her. Haven't you?”
“I know she's your sister, but Rain's a grownâ”
“You've been with her! You've disgraced her!”
Taking a step back, Clint made sure he was out of Crow's reach. “You're making too much out of this. We've got plenty to worry about besides whatever happened withâ”
“I know what happened!” Crow snarled. “And if I am here to avenge my family, I will not stand by to let you rut in the dirt with my sister like some kind of dog.”
“Nobody forced anything to happen, Crow. Don't you force this or you won't like how it turns out.”
But the Indian's eyes were wild and he now had his tomahawk up to cock it back. “I cannot see Ordell, but his time will come. I can see you right now and I won't wait one more minute to deal with you.”
Opening his hands, Clint let the rifle slip from his grasp and drop to the ground at his feet. “If you want me to fight, you'll have to wait. I know you're not the sort of man to attack an unarmed man.”
If Clint's gesture had any effect, it was impossible to say. In fact, it seemed as if Crow hadn't even noticed that Clint's hands were now empty and held out to either side.
Clint tried to think of what he could say to calm the Indian down. The longer he looked at the wild expression on Crow's face, the more Clint realized there was nothing he or anyone else could say to smooth things over. All Clint could hope for was that Crow would put this aside until he was thinking clearer.
That hope was quickly shattered.
Crouching down while taking a step back, Crow snapped his arm back by his ear like a catapult getting ready to spring. He let out a battle cry and started bringing his arm forward, leaving Clint no other choice but to draw his Colt.
Clint leaned to one side as his hand flashed down to his holster. Even though he meant to dodge Crow's tomahawk, he cleared leather before the weapon even left Crow's hand.
The Colt barked once and sent its lead through the air.
Crow reeled back with his arms flying to either side and his fist still wrapped around his tomahawk. One shoulder smacked against a tree, sending him sideways to the ground. The Indian landed behind a bush and remained motionless.
After waiting a few seconds, Clint angrily shoved his Colt back into its holster and snatched up his rifle. “Goddamnit, Crow,” he growled under his breath.
Since there wasn't anything else for him to do, Clint continued on his search and headed north.
FORTY-ONE
Rain sat huddled in the bushes, too frightened to move a muscle. She crouched like a rabbit that was seconds away from getting its head caught between the teeth of a wolf, praying that she would go unnoticed.
She'd heard Clint talking to her brother and meant to step in. After hearing the edge in Crow's voice, however, she knew better than to try and calm him down. He would only have pushed her aside and told her to leave. No matter how much she would have tried to beg Clint to step back and make peace, she doubted he would have listened.
Both men had had their minds made up and there was nothing to be done about it.
All Rain could do was stay hidden and watch as the two men butted heads. When she'd heard the shot from Clint's Colt, every muscle in her body had jumped. Her hands snapped up to cover her mouth before she made a noise or cried out.
Her hands were still pressed against her mouth when she looked over to see another figure huddled in the brush.
Mark Ordell crouched down until he barely seemed to take up more space than Rain. His hat was drawn down tightly over his head, leaving nothing but the tip of his nose and a tangle of beard to protrude from beneath it. One hand was resting upon his knee and the other held his rifle just an inch or two off the ground, so most of the long barrel and stock was beneath the top of the grass.
The hunter didn't move in the slightest. Rain watched and waited to see if he would attack or try to pounce on her, but the man simply didn't budge. The only way she'd noticed him there was because he was a shape in her line of sight that hadn't been there the last time she'd checked.
Even though his eyes were mostly hidden from her view, she could tell he was watching Clint intently. His posture leaned toward the spot where Clint stood as if he were about to spring forward at any moment.
Even though his beard covered his mouth, Rain could tell Ordell was smiling. The curve of his face was shifted upward and, if she watched carefully, she could see the hairs closest to his lips moving with his silent laughter.
When Ordell moved, it almost made Rain jump. She'd been watching him so closely that she'd stopped expecting him to budge.
Ordell's head barely shifted. It was barely half a twitch, but the twitch was in her direction. That was more than enough to tell Rain that she'd been spotted.
Slowly, Ordell shifted to look at her face-to-face.
Rain felt a cold knot form in her stomach when she saw the way Ordell's beard had been torn apart on the left side of his face to reveal a twisted, bloody stretch of gnarled skin. The wound looked even worse due to the blood that was still clumped into his beard like an extension of the gash itself.
Ordell raised the hand from his knee, held up one finger and then held that finger to his lips.
Rain did what she was told and stayed quiet as Ordell shifted and moved away.
FORTY-TWO
Clint rarely thought about the odds of himself surviving a fight. Doing so was a good way for a man to get himself killed. Quite simply, the odds never favored a man when he drew his gun or took his knife from its sheath. There were a hundred things that could go wrong and any one of them could cost a hell of a lot.
But as he made his way through the woods and examined every blade of grass for a snare, Clint had more than enough time to think about his odds. No matter how much he had in his favor, there was no possible way the odds could go his way.
This was Ordell's battleground and Clint was a damn fool to fight him there. Unfortunately, Clint also knew that if he didn't face Ordell here and now, he might never catch up to the hunter again.
Ordell could come and go as he pleased and if he decided to disappear, Clint could only rely upon a miracle to finish up this business. After all the blood Ordell had spilled for little or no reason at all, there was no way Clint was about to let the man get away with it.
Even though it meant playing Ordell's game on his own ground, Clint couldn't just walk away. The only way for him to have anything at all in his favor was to try and push a few of his own rules into the game. Even then, he wondered if he could win.
The steps he heard coming from behind him were rushed and close together. Clint's first instinct was that it was an animal that had been flushed out to run in his direction. When he heard the breathing coming from the one making those steps, Clint knew it wasn't from any animal.
Turning around, Clint sighted along his rifle and lowered himself to one knee. When Rain came into view, Clint met her like a one-man firing squad.
“Is anyone behind you?” Clint asked without taking the rifle from his shoulder.
Rain was breathless as she kept running. Even seeing the gun in Clint's hands wasn't enough to make her slow down until she was close enough to hold him. “I don't think he's chasing me, but he was right there.”
“Ordell?”
“Yes. He was right there and I didn't know until it was too late.”
“Where was he?” Clint asked. “Where were you, for that matter?”
“I wasn't far from where you were talking to my brother. I heard the shot and I heard someone fall andâ”
Taking hold of Rain by her shoulder, Clint grabbed her tightly and forced her to look directly into his eyes. When she still kept looking around wildly, he gave her a gentle shake and asked, “Where was he?”
“He was listening to you.”
“How much did he hear?”
“I don't know. I didn't see him at first but then he was just . . . there. I didn't even hear him coming.”
“Did he try to hurt you?” Clint asked.
Rain pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to let it out slowly. Once she did, she felt Clint's hand loosen from around her arm. “He didn't try to hurt me. He didn't even come near me. All he did was look at me and . . .” As she spoke, Rain pictured Ordell in her mind. The wound on his face seemed even more gruesome and she imagined what his eyes must have looked like under the brim of his hat.
“And what?” Clint asked.
Lifting a trembling finger to her lips, Rain imitated what Ordell had done. “He did that,” she said. “And then he left. Once I knew he wasn't coming for me, I ran.”
“Was he hurt?”
That snapped her out of the nightmarish visions flowing through her head. Her eyes snapped back into focus and she looked at Clint. “Yes. His face was bloody.”
“Could it have been a bullet wound?”
“Yes. That must have been where you shot him.”
“I know. I was kind of hoping for something a little better.”
“It looked pretty bad.”
Clint shrugged. “Didn't seem to slow him down at all. Besides, someone like Ordell probably wears his scars like medals.”
Rain was quiet for a few seconds as Clint started walking along his route. She kept up with him easily and even began looking for traces of Ordell along with him. Before too long, she asked, “Where is my brother?”
“You said you were there. Didn't you see where he went?”
Rain shook her head. “I heard the shot and I heard someone fall. All I could see was a few shapes on the other side of the trees.”
“We shouldn't be talking about this now,” Clint told her.
Nodding slowly, Rain kept pace with Clint for a few more minutes. Suddenly, she stopped and held out an arm to get Clint to do the same thing.
“What is it?” he asked.
She silenced him with a sharply raised hand. Holding her head up toward the tops of the trees, Rain eventually closed her eyes completely so she could focus entirely on the sounds around them. When she opened her eyes again, she lowered her hand and then pointed off the trail to the west.
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