As Nick moved forward, he took in the scene as if he was admiring it from afar. His eyes calmly darted from one spot to another, watching for any additional threats while keeping track of the ones already in front of him. His arm remained extended and he stopped firing once he saw his target drop behind a stack of old crates piled up near the store.
“Joseph, watch out!” Nick shouted when he spotted Joseph headed straight for the store.
But Joseph did not seem to care that he was heading toward the other gunman. Joseph’s only concern was George inside.
Although he couldn’t see the barrel-chested gunman, Nick had no trouble figuring out the man’s intentions. As Joseph was about to pass the crates where the gunman was hiding, Nick shot his last two rounds through the dirty wooden boxes. Dust exploded from the splintering wood and Joseph stormed through it on his way to the door.
Nick kept his eyes on those crates as he went through the well-practiced motions of reloading his gun. Holding the pistol in his left hand, he plucked spare bullets from his gun belt using his right little finger and flipped them into his palm. He slid each round slid into the cylinder, transferred the pistol to his right hand and shut it with a snap of his wrist.
Before Nick could do anything else, the crates were knocked over as the barrel-chested gunman stormed toward him. He still was too busy reloading to take a shot. After snapping the cylinder shut, the stocky man balled up his fist and drove it into Nick’s midsection.
“I hear you’re the one that killed J. D.,” the gunman snarled as Nick doubled over and let out a pained grunt. “Fucking gravedigger shot him in the back. J. D. was my friend.”
Nick struggled to straighten up, but wasn’t even able to draw a breath. He was surprised to find that he still had his gun in his hand.
The bigger man seized him by the throat and pressed his gun barrel against the top of Nick’s head. As soon as the iron touched his skull, Nick’s instincts took over. He flattened his left hand and shot it straight up, catching the gunman’s wrist and forcing his pistol into the air. The gunman’s finger snagged against the trigger, sending a shot above their heads, as Nick fired a bullet of his own into the gunman’s foot.
It was the only shot that Nick could take that had no chance of missing. Hot lead drilled through the top of the gunman’s boot and foot, and dug several inches into the ground beneath it. The instant he saw the man’s wounded leg jerk up reflexively, Nick leaned forward and knocked the him on his ass.
The man landed with a heavy thump and let out a surprised grunt. His wounded foot stayed in the same spot, while his gun arm splayed out over his head. His eyes focused on Nick standing directly over him, the modified Schofield aimed directly at the outlaw’s face.
“Be smart and toss the gun,” Nick warned.
The man glared up at him and swore under his breath. He surprised the hell out of Nick by doing exactly what he was told.
TWENTY-SIX
George stumbled through the general store, knocking blankets off their tables and tipping over barrels of flour along the way. He had a gun in his hand, but had forgotten all about it as he strove to distance himself from the door.
“What’s going on out there?” the silver-haired store owner swhouted. “I thought you men were leaving!”
“Shut up,” George snapped. “Just shut up!”
A moment later, the door swung open again and Joseph stomped inside. He, too, seemed to have forgotten about his gun. In his case, however, it wasn’t because of panic.
“Who’re you?” the old man asked. “Jesus, how many more are there?”
Joseph ignored the store’s owner completely as he lunged straight for his former ranch hand.
George’s efforts to move away were blocked by a table stacked high with brushes and blocks of soap. His back knocked against the edge of the table, and he pushed himself on top of it so he could scuttle backwards over it.
“Trying to run off again, Georgie?” Joseph said, knowing how much the younger man hated to be called that. “Or are you just trying to set up another party in my honor?”
George swung his arm around, preparing to finally fire his gun. In his haste to be rid of Joseph, he pulled his trigger way too early and his wild shot hit one of the store’s glass display cases.
“God dammit!” the owner shouted as he fixed his distraught eyes upon the shattered case.
Joseph remained focused upon George. He lifted his gun and took a shot, which caught the ranch hand in the hip. Joseph kept moving forward until he was close enough to grab hold of George’s shirt. “You son of a bitch! You’re the one that killed my family!”
George’s eyes grew wide and he wildly shook his head. “No! No! I didn’t fire a shot that night!”
“But you got everyone out of there so those bastards could ride right in! You watched as my wife was killed! You watched my little girl die!”
George’s mouth flapped open and shut as he tried desperately to say something in his defense. When he heard the shots being fired outside, George remembered the gun in his own hand. He tried to take aim, but Joseph slammed the handle of his gun into George’s wrist.
The slender bones of his hand snapped on impact and George let out a high, feminine scream.
“You!” Joseph snarled as he pounded his gun down once more in the same spot. “You let them kill my family!” With tears burning his eyes, Joseph brought the gun up, pointed it at George’s eye and stared down its barrel.
Not only was George crying, he was sobbing. It was a pathetic mix of pain, fear and regret as he slowly shook his head while muttering, “I didn’t know it would be like that, I swear. I thought they’d just take your herd.”
“You told them about the money I was saving.”
“I saw you take some money into your study and told them about it. I thought I knew where it was hid, but…I didn’t know they’d treat An—”
“Don’t,” Joseph snapped, “say…her…name.”
George was still shaking his head as the last shot from outside faded away. “I wouldn’t have done any of it if I knew, Mister Van Meter. You gotta believe me. You folks were good folks. Anne was so nice to me. Laurie was the cutest—”
He was interrupted by a single shot from Joseph’s gun.
That shot roared through the store just as Nick pushed the side door open. He stepped into the store with his gun drawn, taking in what was going on. “How many are here?” he asked the old store owner.
“Just them two. Jesus, they destroyed my new cases!”
Seeing Joseph staring down at George, Nick pointed his gun at the ranch hand and slowly stepped forward. He felt the anger poring from Joseph in waves. Approaching him then was like inching up to a rattler that already had its fangs bared. When he saw the smoke pouring from Joseph’s barrel, Nick knew he was too late.
“Don’t say their names,” Joseph whispered to the dead man beneath him. “I told you not to say their names.”
Holstering his gun, Nick reached out to carefully place a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. Joseph swung his gun around reflexively.
“It’s just me,” Nick said. “It’s over. They’re all gone.”
Joseph looked around in a daze and lowered his gun.
“Get some supplies so we’re set for the next couple of days,” Nick said. “In fact, get as much as we can carry. We’ll need to move fast.”
Seeing the recognition in Joseph’s eyes, Nick knew that the man’s reasoning had come back to him. He then grabbed George by the collar and belt so he could heft the dead weight over his shoulder. For Nick, carrying the body was just another day at work, and he lugged the corpse outside while Joseph started gathering up food.
