you, Marshal, you’ll steer clear of it so I can do my business.”
“I’m not a marshal. I’m just a—”
“I can see the deputy badge on your coat, you loco son of a bitch. I ain’t blind. I’m just giving you credit for being smarter than another shit-for-brains deputy. No matter what badge you got on, you should be able to influence your fellow law dogs.”
“The sheriff…he’s the one who…” The deputy’s voice caught in the back of his pinched throat as the rifle barrel was driven even further into his stomach.
Nick leaned forward to glare directly into the deputy’s eyes, making certain most of his weight was behind the rifle. “Make up a reason for the law to be somewhere else around noon tomorrow. Find something to keep them busy. Think of something, or everyone inside that bank will be killed. You understand me?”
The deputy nodded weakly at first, but his head found a momentum of its own and was soon twitching up and down.
“Good,” Nick said. “Now, do I even have to tell you to keep quiet about who gave you this idea when you see your law dog friends?”
The deputy shook his head wildly.
“Didn’t think so.” Nick started to turn away, but then shifted back around to fix his glare once more upon the deputy. His lips curled into a predator’s snarl as his finger began to tighten around the rifle’s trigger. “You sure I can count on you?”
“Yes, yes,” the deputy wheezed. “Please. God, don’t kill me.”
Nick could smell the young lawman’s fear and he pulled it all the way down to the bottom of his lungs as if he were savoring a beautiful woman’s perfume. Once he’d had his fill, he nodded and backed away. “All right, then. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Those words might as well have been a fire lit under the deputy’s backside, since they sent him scampering away from Barrett and Nick so quickly that he almost lost his footing several times. Even after the deputy had rounded the corner, his desperate steps could still be heard scraping against the frozen soil.
Nick was laughing as Barrett pulled the bandanna down from his face.
“Are you sure about this, Nick?” Barrett asked.
“Sure, I’m sure. Now, where’s this weak link you were talking about?”
“In the saloon right down the street.”
“Then let’s get to him before that yellow little runt does. You’d better be the runt’s shadow for a while, just to make sure.”
Barrett took off in the direction the deputy had gone.
Nick had to keep himself from whistling as he stepped back onto Main Street to look for the saloon Barrett had mentioned. The town was laid out just as Barrett had described on their way in from their shack. The saloon was right where it should be, marked with the picture of the wolf’s paw Barrett had described.
Shoving open the door, Nick stepped in and spotted Barrett’s lawman. The man was about Nick’s size and possibly a few years older. He kept himself upright by putting both elbows upon the edge of the bar and wore his badge pinned crookedly to his left collar.
“It’s damn cold out there!” Nick said as he stomped into the saloon.
“It’s always cold, mister,” the bartender replied. “How about something to thaw the blood in yer veins?”
Nick stood beside the haggard man wearing the badge. “You cold, too?” he asked.
The man was barely sober enough to look up and spot the person beside him. “I ain’t…cold enough to piss… in the…” were the only slurred words he could pronounce clearly.
Nick laughed and slapped the man on the back as if the babble actually meant something to him. He then slapped twenty dollars upon the bar. “This is for my drink as well as my friend’s here,” Nick said to the bartender. “Keep ’em coming!”
SIX
The bank was situated near the edge of town. It looked like something closer to a church or schoolhouse, since the building was small, square and had a tall, pointed roof. The two masked men approached it, one anxiously pulling the other along. The more eager of the two kicked open the bank’s front door with his gun already in hand.
It was six minutes past noon.
“Hands where I can see ’em!” the first man shouted as he waved his gun at the three customers standing in front of the two teller windows. “You assholes behind that cage get all the money you can grab and stuff it into a sack!”
There was one young woman behind the cage separating the public and private halves of the bank. She already had her hands in the air and was trembling almost too much to hold them up. The other person behind the cage was a man in his fifties who wore a pair of round spectacles. He’d been sitting at a rolltop desk when the masked men entered and now stood up.
“You!” the first masked man snapped as he aimed directly at the old man behind the cage. “Open the safe and empty it into a sack.”
“There is no safe,” the man replied.
The first masked man shoved forward past a customer to stick his arm between two of the cage’s bars. “Don’t feed me any bullshit unless you want to die, old man!” he said as he thumbed back the hammer of his pistol.
“We’ve got cash in the drawers, but—”
The older man was cut short as the gun in the masked man’s hand barked and sent a bullet through the female teller’s side. Yelping and falling to the floor, the woman grabbed the fresh wound. Despite the pain, the bullet had caught more of her dress than it had of her skin.
“Don’t try my patience, old man,” the first masked man said.
The older man didn’t have anything else left to say. Instead, he nodded and walked behind his desk to reveal a small safe hidden beneath a red sheet and a vase of flowers.
Until now, the second masked man hadn’t done anything but stand in the doorway. When he started fidgeting, the first gunman walked over to him and pulled him inside.
“My partner’s getting nervous,” the first masked man said.
Just then, one of the customers spoke up. “Maybe that’s because the law’s outside,” a young man with smooth features said as he pointed toward the window.
The first masked man looked out the window and nodded. “So they are. All three of them.” Looking toward the cage, he asked, “How much you got for me?”
“The safe’s not open yet,” the old man replied.
The teller was already on her feet. She held up a single bag and whimpered, “This is all I could get.”
“Toss it over.”
She did as she was told and then leaned against her counter.
After scooping up the bag, the first gunman walked to the front door and patted his partner roughly upon the back. “What do you say? Feel like shooting your way out of here?”
The second gunman started to say something, but was cut off as the first one shoved him toward the steps leading to the street.
“Kiss my ass, law dogs!” the first masked man said as he fired a few shots at the approaching lawmen.
The sheriff was a barrel-chested man in his forties with a thick mustache drooping over his mouth. He fired the shotgun in his hand, missing the first masked man and startling the second. As the second masked man started to raise his arm, another blast caught him in the chest and dropped him straight to the ground.
The first masked man was already on his horse, thundering away from the bank. He rode down Main Street, allowing the lawmen to come after him.
