Longarm - Longarm And The Double-Barrel Blowout Part 11

"That's right," Longarm grimly replied. "The kind of men that would cut Eli's throat would not have been long on patience. I'll bet that Jimmy didn't last a week and that whatever time he last had here was h.e.l.l on earth."

"G.o.d forgive them," Preacher Dan breathed.

"Well," Longarm said, "I think I've killed them all except Hank Ba.s.s. And, unless I'm badly mistaken, he'll be coming back here."

"Alone?"

"Maybe, maybe not. He might recruit a few other cutthroats. I expect that he will."

"And how will we stand up against them?"

"I don't know that answer either," Longarm replied. "But the good news is that this time we'll be the ones up here on the high ground and ready to spring the surprise."

Longarm laced his fingers behind his head. "But I got to know something, Preacher."

"Yes?"

"Am I going to be doing this all alone, or can I count on your help?"

"I don't want to kill anyone. I don't believe that I have the right to take a human life."

"What about in the name of self-defense?"

"I'll give it some thought."

"You had better come up with the right answers," Longarm said, unable to hide his growing exasperation. "Because, if Hank Ba.s.s does bring friends, I'm going to need your help."

"I would be more than willing to help you capture them alive."

"Not much chance of that, I'm afraid. Because when they comea"and they will comea"it will be a fight to the death. We don't have horses, remember? Your d.a.m.ned horses broke free and ran away. So we've got to take their horses in order to get the h.e.l.l back to Wickenburg."

"We could walk."

"Not a chance. I got a bad leg and you got a bad shoulder. So we'll wait for whoever killed Jimmy c.o.x to return and then we'll take their horses. They're not going to want us to do that, Preacher. And they're going to try and stop us with bullets. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Of course I do. You're saying that we have to kill in order not to be killed."

"That's right," Longarm said. "Now, can you shoot straight or have you always been a d.a.m.ned pacifist?"

Dan flushed with anger. "I'll have you know that I've been in some pretty rough fights during my younger days. In fact, I shot a"

The words trailed off like smoke in the desert wind. "What have you shot, Preacher?"

Dan turned away, and when he spoke, his voice was low and strained. "I've shot men too. Killed them."

"Good!" Longarm p.r.o.nounced. "Then you're up to the task and that's what I'll expect when it comes time to do what must be done."

Dan muttered something in reply, but Longarm couldn't and really didn't want to hear what else the wounded man had to say.

"I'm ready for another nap," he said, glancing out at the sun. "Getting hot again."

When Dan still didn't bother to reply, Longarm stretched out in the cool dust of the cave floor and went right to sleep.

Chapter 13.

In the slow, hot days that followed, Longarm spent most of his time inside the sandstone caves looking for clues and coins. He found several of the latter and some interesting Spanish relics like b.u.t.tons and buckles. But most of all, he was looking for Jimmy's body, and it wasn't until the fourth day that he finally found it. The outlaws hadn't been as clever as Longarm with his instant rock-slide grave. They'd actually taken the time to bury poor old Jimmy, and although the corpse was very old and decayed, there was enough left to identify the prospector.

Longarm took the discovery hard. Jimmy had once saved his life, and the old goat had been a true friend. Longarm used his knife to whittle a nice wooden cross made out of a wooden box, then he carved Jimmy's name in it while Preacher Dan said a few words of prayerful farewell.

When their little service was over, Longarm walked out into the desert until the moon came over the horizon and he tried to get a grip on his feelings. He lived a very long, full life, Longarm told himself. Jimmy c.o.x was one of the very rare people I've ever met who did exactly what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it. I'm sure that, if he had a second chance at life, he'd play it out exactly the same way, even knowing his sad end.

Longarm felt better when he returned to their camp. He slept well that night and continued to wait and recover. His leg was healing and Dan's shoulder was also coming along just fine. But where was Hank Ba.s.s and his boys? Surely they'd be back, wouldn't they?

It took another four days before Longarm spotted the hors.e.m.e.n coming across the desert. There were five, and he watched them for a long time to see if they might rein off and go in another direction. But they did not.

"Dan, I'm going to give you the shotgun this time and I'll handle the Winchester. Even you can't miss with that big scattergun."

"I'm still not sure that I can do this."

"Well, then," Longarm said, "we'll probably be killed. And while I know that doesn't mean a whole h.e.l.l of a lot to you, it does to me. Besides, these will be the same ones that murdered poor Jimmy."

"Yeah," Dan said, "I expect that's true."

Longarm loaded and checked the double-barreled shotgun, then handed it to Dan. "I'm sorry I have to ask for your help, but the odds are too great against me alone. I can probably kill one, maybe even two, before they reach cover, but that would still leave three."

"Yeah," Dan said, handling the shotgun. "All right, I'll do my part."

"Thanks," Longarm said with relief. "That's all I wanted to know. Now, you move into that cave and stay hidden until they get right up here."

"We're going to let them do that?"

"Yes," Longarm said. "Despite what you might think, I'll order them to surrender and drop their weapons. If they don't, then it's going to be war and I expect you to fire my biggest cannon. Trouble is, we need to take at least one of them alive. I mean to find out exactly who killed Jimmy."

"Okay," Dan said in reluctant agreement as he started for the cave.

"And, Dan?"

"Yeah?"

"You won't miss if you pull the triggers and have that shotgun pointed in the right direction."

Dan nodded without a word and then disappeared in the cave to wait. Longarm inspected his Winchester and six-gun. When he was completely satisfied that they were in good working order, he hunkered down behind some high rocks and watched the approaching riders. They were a bad-looking bunch. Two were Indians and rode bareback with rifles resting across the bare withers of their skinny ponies. The other three were white men of the roughest kind. One was a bearded giant and the other two were thin, hard-looking men that Longarm judged to be professional killers. Longarm decided to shoot this pair first, then try for the two Indians. He'd save the giant for last because the man was the largest target and might be a shade slower than his leaner companions.

Because of the steepness of the slope, the outlaws were forced to dismount and tie their horses several hundred feet downhill, which was very much to Longarm's liking as he fixed the first of the gunfighters in his rifle sights. It was crazy to give them a warning, but he was no executioner and he had promised Dan that he would at least offer them a chance to surrender.

"I'm a U.S. marshal!" he shouted. "Throw down your weapons and a"

Every last one of the outlaws went for their weapons without any thought of surrender. Longarm shot one of the gunfighters in the chest and managed to drop the other one before he could return fire. The Indians were his third and fourth targets, but they were too quick and clever to stand and stare into the low sun trying to identify a target. Instead, they dove into some brush before Longarm could unleash a third bullet.

The giant was slow of mind and body. He chose to attack on foot, and Longarm would have killed him easily enough except that the fool lost his footing and crashed into the brush. At that very instant, Dan chose to fire the shotgun and a blast swept harmlessly over the giant's head. But the fool jumped up, and Dan fired a second blast that nearly beheaded the giant. It was a terrible, grisly thing to see that huge body crash to earth and then begin to flop around in the grip of death.

Longarm had to turn away for a moment as the sounds of their gunfire echoed off into the hills and then everything became very silent. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Dan holding the smoking shotgun with a horrified expression marking his haggard old face.

"Dan, get down!" Longarm shouted.

Longarm's warning came too late. One of the Indians popped up like a cork in a tub and shot Dan, who staggered back into the cave.

"Dan!" Longarm shouted.

There was no answer and Longarm felt a sudden rage, but he'd been in too many fights to do anything foolish or rash. He'd only seen Dan for an instant and didn't know if the man was dead or alive, but it seemed pretty obvious that he wasn't going to be much help.

Longarm caught a glimpse of one of the Indians moving toward the horses. Suddenly, he knew that he had to stampede their animals so that the Indians could not either get to their canteens or escape and perhaps find some willing friends.

Stampeding the horses was easy and only took a few well-placed bullets to send the five animals rearing back on their reins and breaking free. Longarm saw an Indian leap up and try to catch one of the ponies. He snapped off a rifle shot and the Indian disappeared into the brush.

"Did I get him?" he asked himself out loud.

Longarm didn't think so. Or, if he had, he figured that the Indian was only grazed because he had dived rather than fallen into the brush. Longarm glanced up at the sky. It was almost sundown, and he knew that the Indians were probably Apache and that they would wait until after dark to make their move. The trouble was, would they come after him, or simply leave and go after their stampeded horses? Longarm figured they'd do the latter. Apache were brave, but they were also very smart, meaning that they might decide to leave, get help, an return when they had the advantage of surprise.

I can't allow that to happen, Longarm thought. I've got to go out there and finish them off or they'll come back with reinforcements. and I'm as good as dead without a horse to ride away on.

Longarm cursed his decision to shoot the two gunfighters first. He would have been better off to kill these Indians. A couple of gunfighters would have acted very predictably and come after him, making things much, much easier.

Darkness fell gently across the desert and the sky flamed with rose colors. The air cooled and the heat-constricted earth seemed to sigh with relief as the first stars faintly appeared in the indigo sky.

Longarm began to retreat until his back was to the cave. He ducked inside to find Preacher Dan still breathing but unconscious. Working quickly in the darkness, Longarm groped for the man's bullet wound. When he found it, he knew that he had to get Dan to a doctor or the man was finished. He was probably finished anyway, but perhaps not. The fresh bullet had struck the old prospector in the ribs and most likely had broken several, but Longarm was able to determine that the Apache bullet had pa.s.sed through Dan's body on a trajectory that might not have ripped apart any vital organs. The wound was still bleeding, so Longarm did the best bandaging job that he could, given his difficult circ.u.mstances.

So, Longarm thought, as he a.s.sessed his predicament and the necessity of having to go after two Apache in the brush, things aren't looking too d.a.m.ned good.

He checked his weapons and started to leave the cave, his mind already focused on the problems he was about to tackle. But some inner warning caused him to step sideways and that was what saved his life. One of the Apache had gotten above the mouth of the cave and had jumped at Longarm's back with a drawn knife. But even though he had missed burying his knife in Longarm, he was agile enough to land on his feet and attack with a murderous scream.

Longarm didn't have time to draw his pistol. In fact, it was all that he could do to raise his forearm and block the downward thrust of the Apache's knife. He slammed the Indian in the groin with his knee and heard the man grunt with pain, then reel backward but attack again. This time Longarm had a moment and he used it to go for his six-gun. But the Indian came too fast and, before Longarm could make his cross draw, the Apache knife was slicing at his arm, opening it wide and causing the blood to flow and the gun to fall to the ground.

"All right," Longarm said, knowing he could not regain the weapon. "Let's finish this."

The Apache was more than ready and began to circle, knife blade held upward, legs and back bent. Longarm was d.a.m.ned worried. in the first place, the Apache was smaller but probably quicker, and that was all to his advantage. In the second place, the second Apache was probably very close and about to join the fight. Longarm knew that with his gun spilled somewhere in the darkness he stood no chance whatsoever against two determined Apache.

"Come on!" he hissed, teeth drawn back and blood flowing warmly down his left arm.

His enemy lunged forward, and Longarm tried to grab his wrist but failed. Again, he felt the Apache's blade rip across his flesh as hot and burning as a cattleman's branding iron. Longarm reached for the derringer that he carried at the end of his watch chain. The Apache saw the movement, but he didn't react quickly enough, so Longarm drew out the derringer and shot him dead in his tracks.

Not worrying about the Apache, Longarm jumped forward, hands sweeping blindly across the ground in search of his spilled six-gun. It seemed to take forever to locate the weapon, and when his big hand closed on its grip, the blood in his fist made holding the weapon nearly impossible. Even so, Longarm was able to thumb back the hammer and roll sideways three times before the second Apache charged out of the darkness with his gun bucking fire and lead.

Longarm shot the Indian at almost point-blank range. The Apache folded, but even as he was dying he was trying to get his gun up and shoot again.

"Sorry," Longarm said as his boot lashed out and sent the Apache's weapon spinning into the brush. "But this time you and your friends lose."

The fight was over. Longarm felt weak and had one h.e.l.l of a tough time getting the knife wounds to stop bleeding. Maybe, though, that was good because it would prevent any poisoning. Once the wounds were bandaged, he longed to go to sleep but knew that he dared not.

Instead, Longarm returned to the caves and filled two canteens of water. He reloaded his six-gun, picked up the Winchester, and checked to make sure that Dan was still alive.

"I'll be back before sunrise with at least a couple of their horses," he told the old man. "And then we'll get you back to Wickenburg and a doctor. If you can hear me, just hang on, Preacher. No need for you to go to the Promised Land quite so soon."

Dan's eyelids raised and the old fella actually managed a smile. "I'm ready to die," he said. "Dammit, Marshal, don't keep me from the pearly gates of heaven."

"I'll be back soon," Longarm said with a sigh of relief. "I don't think your time has come yet."

When Longarm stood up, he felt weak in the knees and somewhat dizzy. He shook himself and decided that he needed a bite to eat before setting off after those horses. He found some hard biscuits and salt pork and had himself a meal, squatting beside Dan and trying to still the buzzing in his head.

"Thanks," the prospector said. "For saving our lives."

"You did your part," Longarm told the man. "You were the giant killer. I couldn't have handled him on top of the rest."

"I don't believe it," Dan said. "There were five and we're both still alive, so that means you killed four of them all by yourself."

"I had some luck."

"No," Dan whispered, "luck had nothing to do with it."

Longarm saw no point in wasting either time or energy in discussion, so he washed his food down with water and headed off into the desert. The moon was just a thin wedge, but he figured it was bright enough to lead him to the outlaw horses that would carry them back to Wickenburg.

Chapter 14.

Longarm walked all night across the desert. By daybreak, he was footsore and exhausted but determined not to give up his quest to overtake the five runaway horses. He was also pretty sure that the animals were waiting at the hidden springs where Preacher Dan had once found gold.

The sun was well up on the horizon when Longarm finally came to the place in the mountains which hid the secret desert springs. And, sure enough, there were the five outlaw horses, grazing on the lush green gra.s.s that surrounded the water hole. They were still saddled and bridled but had all broken their reins. When the animals saw Longarm, he was afraid that they might bolt and run, but they didn't. They seemed to realize that this was the only water for miles around, so Longarm had no difficulty in catching all but the two Indian ponies which he did not want anyway.

"Glad that you are showing more sense," Longarm said, tightening the cinch on a large sorrel gelding after he'd tied the two other captured horses to his saddle horn. ""Cause, if you'd tried to run away, I might have lost my temper and shot the three of you."

The horses didn't seem too concerned with Longarm's empty threat. And so, after refilling his canteens, Longarm mounted the sorrel and led the extra pair back out into the desert. It was hot but not unbearable, and they made good time back to Preacher Dan and what he now thought of as the Spanish treasure caves.

After tying up the animals very securely, Longarm hurried up to check on Dan. He was relieved to see that the old prospector was still alive.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon," Dan whispered, his voice weak.

"We're getting you back to Wickenburg," Longarm promised. "Think you can make it?"