meat for the both of you whores.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“Don’t matter what you want,” he said threateningly. “It never has and it never will. There’s only one thing that you’ll ever be any good for, so come on in and let’s do it.”
Rolf watched as the woman he loved began to retreat across the hallway. She looked petrified as she made one last attempt to lean around Clyde’s big body and call, “Carole, are you all right!”
“Yes, but run!”
Teresa’s back met the far hallway as Clyde towered over her. He was huge and muscular and his manhood was up and poking Teresa. Rolf knew Clyde and his brother. He’d seen the both of them several times, and he’d heard stories of how brutal and dangerous they were.
“Please,” Teresa said, “just let Carole go.”
“She don’t want to go,” Clyde said, chuckling obscenely. “I’m payin’ her well, but she’s getting tired. I think you should spell your little friend for the rest of the night.”
Teresa looked up, her eyes filled with hatred. “Don’t even touch me, you horrible sonofabitch! I told you what I’d do if you ever touched me again.”
Clyde reached down and grabbed his big root. “Yeah, and that’s why I’m going to give this tonight. And I’ll do it right here against this wall if you don’t shut up and come inside.”
Rolf took a deep breath and filled his own doorway. “Clyde Zolliver, you aren’t doing anything to anyone anymore,” he said in a voice shrill with fear.
Clyde swung around, his hand still wrapped around his root. He stared and said, “Say, ain’t you that kid named …”
“Swensen. Rolf Swensen. It’s only fair that you know who killed you.”
Clyde started to let go of himself and lunge, but Rolf had anticipated the man’s reaction, and his finger was already squeezing his trigger. An explosion filled the hallway, and Rolf’s bullet went low, catching Clyde in the groin. The big man howled and tried to lunge forward, but Rolf raised the barrel of his pistol and shot him in the chest, knocking him back a step and jerking him up to attention.
“Gawddamn you, kid!” Clyde choked.
Rolf stood his ground and emptied his gun, placing his bullets in the giant’s hairy chest and driving him back through his own broken doorway. When Clyde toppled, he landed like a big tree, and then his bare heels danced spasmodically on the floor. Clyde’s stiff root momentarily waved around like a flag in battle before it slumped over as dead as the man.
“Holy gawd,” Rolf said, slumping against the doorway as Teresa threw herself into his arms. “I really did it. I killed Clyde Zolliver and now his brother and father will kill me.”
“No, they won’t!” Teresa said fiercely as she was joined by Carole. “We’re going away.”
“I’m going too!” Carole said, twisting around to stare at the dead man. “I’m not staying in Whiskey Creek another day!”
“What about Nathan?” Rolf asked, steadying himself and holding his girl tightly. “Is he … dead?”
“No, but he’s knocked out cold. Clyde pistol-whipped him hard. I don’t know, maybe he’ll die or his brains have been scrambled. I just don’t know!”
“I’ll find a doctor,” Rolf heard himself say as people began to open their doors and peek down the hallway.
“It’s over!” Teresa raged at them. “So just go back to sleep!”
One by one the doors closed. Teresa hurried inside, and all three of them hovered anxiously over Nathan as Teresa examined the unconscious counterfeiter.
“Well?” Rolf asked.
“He’s breathing and his pulse is good,” Teresa said.
“I think he’s going to be all right.”
“Maybe not,” Carole said. “You didn’t see how that big sonofabitchin’ Clyde just mashed his skull. He hit him really hard.”
“We had better not move him yet,” Teresa said. “But there’s no real doctor in Whiskey Creek.”
“No doctor?” Rolf began to reload his gun. “Nathan could die without a doctor.”
But Teresa shook her head. “I don’t think there’s anything even a real doctor could do.”
“So what can we do besides just wait?” Rolf asked as he finished reloading and jamming his six-gun back into his holster.
Carole interrupted. “The first thing we ought to do is to find somewhere to hide Clyde’s body. Somewhere that it won’t ever be found.”
“You’re right,” Teresa said, thinking hard. “I know of an abandoned mine. It’s a vertical shaft that drops about a hundred feet straight down. People sometimes throw dead things in it just to get rid of them.”
“But we should at least bury him,” Rolf said, appalled at the idea of pitching a human body into a disposal pit filled with all manner of ungodly things.
“Rolf, if it would make you feel any better,” Teresa said, “we can throw some rocks in after we dump his body. But I’ll have to find us a wagon or a carriage.”
“What about the hotel clerk and-“
