Frank took that time to jump up and make a run closer to one of the wagons. He made it to a dead horse and jerked the .44-.40 rifle from the saddle boot. Before he went belly down on the ground, he chanced a look toward Vivian. She had not moved. Frank was suddenly filled with a terrible rage. He levered a round into the chamber of the rifle and sighted in the new gunner cranking the Gatling gun. Frank shot him in the chest and knocked the man out of the wagon. No new gunner came forward to take his place. The bank robbers were running out of men.
Frank ran toward the wagon and jumped in. He swiveled the Gatling and began cranking, the rounds literally tearing the wagon at the end of the block to splinters, all mixed in with the blood and shattered bone of the two outlaws who were inside the wagon.
The outlaws who were not dead or wounded, or being held prisoner by various townspeople, were in the saddle and riding hell-for-leather out of town, toward the pass.
Doc Bracken was busy working on the wounded citizens, pointedly ignoring the calls for help from the wounded outlaws.
'Help me, Doc!' one called.
'Go to hell, you bastard,' Doc Bracken told him without looking up from the bloody little girl he was working on in the middle of the street.
'I'm hard hit, Doc,' the outlaw pleaded.
'Good,' Bracken replied. 'Go ahead and die. Rot in hell.'
Frank hurried over to Vivian and knelt down. She had taken two rounds in the chest from the big-bore Gatlings, but she was still breathing.
'Hang on, Viv,' Frank said. 'Doc Bracken's coming over soon as he can.'
'Tell him not to waste his time, love. I'm all torn up inside.'
'Hush, now, Viv. Don't talk like that.'
'Talk while I have time to talk. I'm in no pain, Frank. It's all numb inside of me, but it's difficult to breathe. I've been lung shot, haven't I?'
Frank had seen the pinkish-looking fluid she'd coughed up. 'I don't know for sure, Viv.'
'I think I am. Let me talk while I still can, Frank. Don't interrupt, please?'
'I won't, Viv.'
'You own five percent of Henson Enterprises, Frank. I saw to that just last week. The papers are filed, and it's all legal. Dutton can't do a thing about it except gripe. Money will be deposited in your name in a bank in Denver every month. It's all spelled out in the papers. Mayor Jenkins has them. He's a good, trustworthy man.'
Frank waited while Vivian coughed up more fluid. It was pinkish in color. Holding her, he felt his hand at her back grow wet. He lifted one side of her jacket and found another bullet hole. He knew that unless the slug had veered off, it had probably blown right through a kidney.
'Is the sun going behind a cloud, Frank?' she asked. 'It's getting darker.'
'Yes, love. Clouds are moving in. It's going to rain, I reckon.'
There was not a cloud in the sky.
Doc Bracken came over and looked at Vivian for a few seconds. He lifted his gaze to Frank and shook his head. The doctor's eyes were filled with sorrow.
Frank felt as though an anvil had fallen on him.
'Look after Conrad, Frank,' Vivian told him. 'Promise me you'll do that.'
'I will, Viv. I promise.'
'He's home right now. I gave him a sedative. He probably slept right through the shooting.'
'I'll do my best to take care of him, Viv.'
'Let's get her to my office, Frank.' Bracken had placed a cloth over Viv's major chest wound. 'Stops the sucking, Frank. She might have a chance.'
Bracken waved some men over and they gently picked Viv up and carried her away. Frank stood up and looked around him. The main street of town resembled a war zone. There were at least two dozen men, women, and children dead or wounded. There wasn't a window left intact. The barber shop was gone, and the buildings on either side of it were heavily damaged.
Jerry walked up, a bandage on his head. 'You hurt bad?' Frank asked.
'Naw. I just got conked on the head by a flying board, that's all. Bled like crazy for a few seconds. Angie thought I was bad hurt. How's Mrs. Browning?'
Frank shook his head. 'Real bad,' he said softly. 'She caught three bullets in the chest.'
'I'm sorry, Frank. Jimmy?'
'Dead. That's him between the seats in the carriage.'
'The driver is dead, too. He's on the other side of the carriage.'
'Let's go see what we can do to help and get the prisoners over to the jail.'
'We might have some trouble keeping a lynch mob from taking the prisoners.'
'I couldn't blame them for trying,' Frank replied. 'But that's not going to happen in my town.'
Frank and Jerry rounded up the surviving outlaws and marched them over to the jail and locked them
