But Doc couldn’t see any of that. Dizziness was overtaking him, and the smoke covered his eyes with a dark fog.
Heat from the fire bit into his arms and legs.
When his back slammed against the floor, he didn’t even feel it.
There wasn’t even enough air in his lungs for any to be driven out on impact.
Silence wrapped its arms around Doc’s shoulders and lifted him upward.
He’d always wondered what it would feel like when the Reaper finally arrived to cart him off.
Actually . . .
... all things considered . . .
... it wasn’t so bad.
[31]
The fire brigade didn’t have much trouble snuffing the flames in and on the Busted Flush. Considering the blaze that now consumed the entire block shared by Thompson’s Varieties and Dr. Seegar’s office, the fire at Caleb’s saloon wasn’t much more than a sputtering nuisance. Once it was out, Caleb hightailed it down Main Street to see if there was anything he could do to help.
“Gunshots!” someone shouted from the line of bucket carriers. “I heard gunshots!”
Caleb had heard them as well. The shots weren’t much more than a few pops within the fire’s consuming roar, but they jumped into Caleb’s ears as if they were meant for him alone.
Running down Market Street, Caleb felt his senses melt away like most of the nearby buildings. Between the acrid smoke and flurry of hot cinders biting into his face, and arms, it was all he could do to focus on the gunshots that still rattled through the air.
“Aw Jesus,” Caleb growled, knowing in his gut that Doc was on one end of those bullets.
Even though there were flames licking out from every window and smoke hanging over the entire block like a shroud, Caleb charged straight toward the drugstore. In his mind, he was already climbing up the stairs to get to the dentist’s office on the second floor.
He didn’t have time to think about the heat or the dangers that could drop on him from any angle. After coming this far, Caleb wasn’t about to stop now. Just as he was about to slam his shoulder into the front door, Caleb saw that same door swing open.
Through the smoke, a large man could be seen hunching over as he ran outside. Once he was outside, it became clear that the man wasn’t actually that large. Instead, he was carrying someone else over one shoulder.
“Move aside!” Dr. Seegar shouted as he rushed down the stairs. “This man needs some fresh air.”
Seeing that Doc was the man over Seegar’s shoulder, Caleb helped the older dentist lower Doc to the ground. The moment he’d set Doc down, Seegar wobbled and started to fall. Caleb took one of the man’s arms and eased him the rest of the way down.
Seegar’s eyes were full of panic as he looked around. Once he saw he was in the street and away from the burning building, he let out a haggard breath.
“Is he dead?” Caleb asked.
Seegar looked down at Doc and shook his head,. “I don’t think so, but how that’s possible I have no idea.”
“What happened in there? I heard shots.”
“I was treating a patient,” Seegar said amid a few rough coughs to clear his throat. “I heard someone come into the office. I smelled kerosene, and the next thing I knew, I could smell smoke. My patient went out to see, but . . . he . . .” Seegar’s voice trailed off as if the weight of what had happened was just now descending on him. “He burned up. I lost my bearings and didn’t know what to do, so . . . I hid.
“I must have passed out, but I woke to the sound of loud voices and gunfire. I don’t know who the other one was, but I recognized Henry’s voice. All I could think of was to get out and carry him with me.” Just then, Seegar looked at the rest of the block, which was almost completely ablaze. “Good Lord.”
“What about Doc?” Caleb asked. “What happened to him?”
Seegar snapped himself away from the fire and looked down at Doc. The pale, slender man was just starting to stir upon the ground. “I don’t know. I think he came in to check on me, but there was another man in the office with him. He and Henry had guns in their hands.”
“Was Doc hit?”
“No,” Seegar replied with no small amount of disbelief. “At least I know that much.” Seegar’s face was haunted as he replayed the scene in his mind. After a few quick blinks, he looked down at Doc and then up to Caleb. “I carried him out of there as best I could. It was the longest walk of my life.”
Doc pulled in a weak breath, which immediately caught in his throat. When he hacked out an exhale, he spat up a mess of blood and tried to sit up. No matter how much Caleb or Seegar tried to help him, Doc insisted on clambering up on his own. He never once loosened his grip on the empty pistol in his hand.
“What’s . . . where am I?” Doc stammered.
Caleb pushed Doc toward the other side of the street to make way for some members of the fire brigade. “You’re safe. So is Dr. Seegar.”
Doc looked over at Seegar and then glared up at the dentist’s office. There wasn’t much to see apart from a blocky shape within a curtain of flame. “It was Weeks’s man,” Doc snarled. “The one with the burnt face. He did this.”
“Thompson’s is already gone,” Caleb added. “So’s most of this block by the look of it.”
“What about Weeks?” Doc asked. “Where is that son of a bitch?”
Caleb stepped in front of Doc to keep him from running toward the drugstore. After that, the street was filled with the fire brigade as well as those folks trying to help them. “We’ll catch up with him soon enough. Right now this fire is what we need to worry about. You need to stay here and catch your breath.”
“To hell with that,” Doc rasped. Already, he was reloading his gun and tucking it back into its holster. “I’ll stay here and do my part.”
“You almost died in there,” Seegar said. “I had to carry you out myself.”
Doc looked at the older dentist as if seeing him for the first time. “Then I won’t stand by and keep letting you do all the work. I can pass a bucket along just like anyone else.”
Rather than try to talk Doc into resting for a moment, Caleb and Seegar led the way back to the line of people passing buckets back and forth to either be filled or emptied onto the flames. The fire brigade was hard at work, but it was plain to see that there was no saving the drugstore or the dental offices above it.
Even so, everyone still tried to put a dent in the blossoming flames.
Nearly a whole day passed before the fires were reduced to a thick, greasy haze in the air and a stain on the ground. Locals picked through the remains, trying to find personal items or whatever was left of their businesses. Caleb sat on the boardwalk facing Main Street, and Doc stood beside him with his back to a post.
“I’m surprised Weeks didn’t come along to gloat,” Doc said.
“He was probably around,” Caleb replied. “But he’s gone by now.”
“How can you be certain?”
“Because he’s not a fool. I saw three more of his men die at the Flush, and you killed the worst of the lot. That doesn’t leave much in the way of hired guns.”
Doc nodded. “Guess you’re right. There’s still the matter of his trial.”
“All the more reason for him to run. Whatever pull Weeks had with the law must have been used up just to let him get out of here without being caught.”
“Caught or worse,” Doc said. “I plan on looking in on this place from time to time just to make certain he doesn’t get any more bright ideas.”
“You becoming a guardian angel to saloon owners now, Doc?”
“No,” Doc replied gravely. “I’ve just got a whole lot of unfinished business with Weeks, and I aim to see it
