Deadly Road to Yuma (20 page)

Matt and Sam estimated that it was well after midnight when they spotted the elevated water tank ahead of them, next to the railroad tracks. They had circled back north once they were sure they were well clear of Pancake Flats, finally intersecting the steel rails and then following them westward.

“I hope Thorpe and Everett made it here with Shade,” Matt said as they rode along, leading the extra horses. “If they didn’t, I’m not sure where we ought to look for them.”

“We could backtrack toward the settlement,” Sam said, “but we’d be taking a chance on running into Shade’s gang.”

Matt grunted. “I almost wish we would. I’d like another crack at those varmints. They’d look mighty good over the sights of my guns.”

“I know what you mean, but right now we need to concentrate on getting Shade to Yuma so he can hang.”

“You know, you got a mighty highly developed sense of responsibility for a carefree redskin who’s supposed to be livin’ in harmony with nature and the land and your fellow man.”

“You’ve been reading those Eastern newspapers and illustrated weeklies again,” Sam said with a disgusted snort. “You start going on about the noble redman or
lo, the poor Indian,
I’ll bust you in the nose. Sure, the Cheyenne are a noble people overall, but some of ’em are pure-dee jackasses…just like every other breed of folks.”

They had almost reached the water tank by now, and before they could continue the conversation, someone shouted, “Hold it! Who’s out there?”

The blood brothers both heaved sighs of relief as they recognized Marshal Asa Thorpe’s voice. Matt called, “It’s us, Marshal—Bodine and Two Wolves.”

“Just the two of you?”

“That’s right.”

“Come ahead then!”

Holding a rifle, Thorpe stepped out from behind the shed the railroad used to store tools and a handcar.

“Where’s Shade?” Sam asked.

Thorpe lowered the rifle and jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the shed.

“Tied up around behind that tool shack,” the marshal said. “Gagged, too. Everett and I got tired of listening to his line of bull. Everett’s standing guard over him.”

“You run into any problems gettin’ out of town?” Matt asked.

Thorpe shook his head and said, “No. You fellas did a good job of drawing all the attention to yourselves. We made it out the back of the barn with nobody seeing us and rode straight here. How about you? Are either of you hurt?”

“Nope,” Matt replied as he and Sam swung down from their saddles. “Plenty of lead got tossed around, but none of it landed on us.”

“We led the pursuit a good two miles east of the settlement,” Sam added. “Then we abandoned the wagon just like we planned and circled around to get back here.”

“No one followed us either,” Sam said. “We made sure of that.”

Thorpe nodded. “It’s nice to have a plan work out for a change. Now all we have to do is wait for the train to show up in the morning.”

Even though it was dark, Matt and Sam exchanged a glance. Thorpe sounded optimistic, and the blood brothers wanted to feel that way, too…

But they had seen too much trouble in their young lives to believe it was going to be that simple.

Sam pulled his Winchester from the saddle boot and nodded toward the water tank.

“I believe I’ll climb up there and stretch out on that little platform,” he said. “Should be able to see a long way from there.”

Matt gathered up the reins and asked, “Where are the horses?”

Thorpe pointed to the north. “There’s a little wash about fifty yards in that direction. It’s just deep enough to hide them, and there’s a little grass in the bottom for them to graze on. Still handy enough to get to in a hurry, though, if we need to.”

Matt nodded. “I’ll take these over there and picket them, too.”

Sam was already climbing the rungs that were nailed to one of the thick posts holding up the water tank. He reached the platform next to the long spout that could be lowered when a train stopped to take on water in its boiler. He lay down on his belly, facing back toward Pancake Flats. From there, he had a good view of the tracks as they dwindled into the distance.

The night was cool, which was good because it would help keep him awake, Sam thought. He was tired, but there would be time enough to rest when Joshua Shade was safely behind the walls of Yuma Prison, awaiting his fate. That ought to be by sundown of the next day, Sam figured.

Whenever it was, it couldn’t be too soon to suit him and Matt. Once again, they had landed up to their necks in danger, despite all their good intentions.

But as long as that kept happening, Sam thought with a wry grin in the darkness, at least life wouldn’t get boring.

The town of Pancake Flats looked normal in the morning as the sun rose, scattering its widespread golden light over the Arizona landscape. All the bodies had been hauled into the livery stable and stacked like cordwood, and frightened citizens working at gunpoint had shoveled dirt over the pools of blood in the street.

Everybody in town had been disarmed and rounded up, just as Garth had ordered, and herded into the hotel. There were enough of them that they outnumbered their captors by quite a bit. They could have overwhelmed the outlaws if they had all attacked at once.

But nobody wanted to be among the ones who would die if they tried such a thing. That fear and indecision kept anybody from even making the attempt until it was too late. Once they were all gathered together, unarmed, under the guns of the lawless men, the only thing that would happen if they tried to fight back was a massacre.

That was what the townspeople told themselves anyway. It was easier than dying.

Once all the signs of the previous night’s violence had been covered up, the men who had done the work were marched back into the hotel. If anyone wondered what had happened to the woman who had registered as Jessica Devlin, nobody said anything about it.

She was nowhere to be seen, though.

Garth singled out the ticket clerk who worked at the Southern Pacific depot. Gesturing with the gun in his hand, he said, “Come along with me, hombre.”

The clerk hung back like he wanted to melt into the crowd of prisoners in the hotel lobby. “Wha…what do you want with me?” he asked.

“I’ll explain that when we get where we’re goin’,” Garth snapped.

The clerk had no choice but to go with him. They walked down the street in the light of the rising sun, toward the train station. As they went inside, Garth heard the telegraph key clicking.

“Go see what they’re sayin’,” he said, punctuating the order by prodding the gun barrel into the clerk’s back.

The man hurried over to the door that led into the little cubicle behind the ticket window where the telegraph apparatus was located. He sat down, picked up the pencil and pad that rested on the table beside the key, and began listening intently, writing down the tapped-out words that came over the wire.

Garth crowded into the room behind him. “What’re they sayin’?”

The clerk looked around at him. The man’s face was pale with fear as he glanced at the gun in Garth’s hand. It was clear that he wouldn’t even consider lying to the outlaw.

“It’s the district office in El Paso. They’re advising everyone along the line that the repairs to the trestle at Bowtie Canyon are finished and that a westbound train is on its way.” The clerk looked at the clock on the wall. “It should be here in less than an hour.”

Garth grunted in acknowledgment of the news. “
Bueno
.”

The clerk summoned up his courage and asked, “What are you going to do? Are you going to rob the train when it gets here?”

“Now, that’s a thought,” Garth said with a grim smile. “Since traffic along the line’s been backed up, there might be a pretty good pile o’ loot in the express car. But we got bigger fish to fry today. The train’s gonna stop and pick up a few passengers, and then it’ll be on its way just like normal.”

The clerk frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Garth felt like walloping the nosy son of a bitch across the head with his pistol, but he decided against it. Everything had to look normal when the train rolled into the station, and that included the clerk.

“Me and some of the other fellas are gettin’ on the train,” Garth explained. “Nobody on there will know who we are—and you ain’t gonna tell ’em.”

The clerk shook his head emphatically. “No, sir. No indeed.”

“We figure Marshal Thorpe will be waitin’ somewheres west o’ here to board the train with Joshua. Once they’re aboard, we’ll take it over and set our boss free.”

After a moment’s thought, the clerk said, “You know, I’ll bet you’re right. Matt Bodine was in here yesterday asking about flag stops to the west. I gave him a map.” Somewhat peevishly, the man added, “That map belongs to the railroad, too, and you know, I didn’t get it back.”

The fella picked strange things to worry about, Garth thought.

“Once we’re gone, you won’t be tryin’ to send any wires to warn folks about what’s goin’ on, now will you?” he asked as he moved the gun barrel closer to the clerk’s face.

Beads of sweat popped out on the man’s forehead. “N-no, sir, of course not. I wouldn’t do that. You have my word.”

“Your word ain’t good enough, amigo. I’m gonna make sure.”

The clerk paled even more. He licked his lips nervously and said, “Please, I swear—”

“We’re gonna pull down the telegraph wires both ways,” Garth went on after savoring the man’s fear for a second, “and smash that apparatus to boot. The rest of the gang will drive off every horse in town as they’re leavin’, too. You folks’ll have a long walk if you want to go anywhere.”

The clerk swallowed. “I…I was afraid you were going to—”

“Gonzalez wanted to just kill you all and burn the town down, to make sure,” Garth went on, interrupting. “I don’t figure that’s necessary, though. And the smoke could be seen for a hell of a long way. Somebody on that train might spot it behind ’em and wonder what was goin’ on. Don’t want to spook anybody before we have to.”

“Thank you. We…we appreciate you not killing us.”

“Just remember that and play your part. No funny business while the train’s here.”

“No funny business,” the terrified clerk swore.

The door opened and Jeffries came in, along with the Winslow woman. Maggie wore a nice traveling outfit now, complete with a hat with a couple of feathers on it perched on her fair hair.

The clothes had come from one of the stores in town, all of which had been looted of everything the outlaws thought they might need, along with all the cash on hand, of course. Not a great haul, Garth reflected, but they might as well get
something
for their trouble.

“You ready to do your part, missy?” Garth asked the young woman.

Maggie nodded. She looked about as pale and scared as the clerk, but Garth had seen the steel core inside her and knew it was still there.

“I don’t understand why you need me, though,” she said. “I can’t really do anything.”

“Except keep Matt Bodine distracted and off his guard,” Garth said. “Do a good job of that, and you’ll be back with your husband and kid by the time this day is over.”

“You swear?”

“Sure. You got my word.”

Of course, that wasn’t worth much, he thought…but she didn’t have to know that.

Garth glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ve still got a while to wait,” he told Maggie. “You might as well go sit down on that bench over yonder.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Jeffries said to her. He had been guarding her most of the night. Garth wondered idly if Jeffries had taken any liberties with her. She didn’t seem any more upset than usual, so he supposed not.

If Jeffries wanted the woman, he could have her as far as Garth was concerned…but only when this was over and Joshua was free again. Until that goal had been accomplished, nothing else mattered.

Garth looked at the clock again. Time sure passed slow when you were waiting to kill people.

Maggie couldn’t get Ike and Caleb out of her mind. Images of her husband and son filled her brain, threatening to crowd out everything else. She imagined them both dead, lying on the barren sand. Or else savaged by scavengers…

She knew she couldn’t afford to give in to despair, so she forced those thoughts out of her head as she stood there in the train station, waiting. In addition to Garth and Jeffries, three more of the outlaws had joined them on the platform, leaving nine men to guard the prisoners in the hotel. The remaining outlaw was sitting in the clerk’s cubicle, out of sight, with a gun in his hand to make sure the man didn’t try any tricks.

Garth had picked three men who didn’t look quite as hard-bitten as the others. In their worn range clothes, they could have been cowboys catching a ride on the train in hopes of finding jobs somewhere else. In his dusty black suit, Jeffries looked like a businessman, or possibly a gambler.

Garth himself had the most sinister appearance of those who would be boarding the train. It might have been smarter for him to trust that job to someone else, but he wasn’t going to do that. He was too worried about something else going wrong, Maggie knew.

It did seem that every time Garth and the other outlaws tried to free Joshua Shade, Matt Bodine and Sam Two Wolves ruined those plans, along with Marshal Thorpe and the other deputy, of course. Having seen Bodine in action, Maggie knew just how dangerous he was, and from what she had heard the outlaws saying, Sam Two Wolves was almost as fast and deadly with a gun.

Eventually, though, the odds had to catch up to them. They couldn’t keep on defeating a much larger force again and again. Maggie wasn’t even sure she wanted them to. It was only a slender hope that the gang would reunite her with Ike and Caleb and then let them all go if they rescued Joshua Shade, but it was better than no hope at all.

“Train’s comin’,” Garth said from the edge of the platform where he was peering eastward.

Maggie moved forward and looked in that direction herself. She saw smoke rising from the locomotive’s stack as the wheels churned along the rails. She couldn’t make out the train itself very well at first, but as it came closer, she could see it better.

In less than five minutes, the train rolled into the station, the huge, noisy locomotive pulling on past it so that the passenger and freight cars lined up with the platform. As the cars jolted and clattered to a stop, the conductor, in his blue suit and black cap, swung down from the steps attached to one of the passenger cars.

“Howdy, Harry!” he called to the clerk behind the ticket window. “Any freight goin’ out?”

“Not today, Brett,” the clerk replied. “Just a few passengers.”

The conductor looked surprised. “With the trestle being down and no trains rolling for a while, I figured the freight would’ve backed up.”

“I guess nobody’s shipping anything right now,” the clerk said. He looked and sounded nervous to Maggie, but the conductor didn’t seem to notice. She supposed she might be imagining it.

“All right, folks, everybody on board,” the conductor called to Maggie, Garth, Jeffries, and the other men. “If there’s no freight to load, we won’t be stopped long.”

Maggie carried a carpetbag that had some clothes stuffed in it just to give it some weight. The outlaws had their saddles, rifles, and warbags. A porter slid back the door of the baggage car and loaded the bags while the passengers climbed on board. The clerk had prepared authentic tickets for all of them, so the conductor had nothing to be suspicious about there.

He punched the tickets and ushered the passengers into the car. As Maggie passed him, he touched the brim of his cap and said, “I hope you’re comfortable traveling with us, ma’am. If you’d like a pillow or a blanket, just let me know.”

“Thank you, sir,” Maggie forced herself to say. She hoped her voice sounded normal. She thought it did.

“Next stop where you can stretch your limbs will be Tucson. We stop once between here and there, but only to take on water.”

She wasn’t sure why he was telling her this, maybe just to make conversation, but she managed to smile and nod and say, “That will be fine.”

She sat down on an empty bench. There were quite a few of them, because the train wasn’t crowded. Garth lowered himself onto the bench across the aisle from her, evidently wanting to keep an eye on her.

From the things she had heard Garth and Jeffries talking about, and the things that Garth had admitted openly, she had a pretty clear idea of the outlaws’ plan. After isolating the town by cutting the telegraph wires and hazing off all the horses in the settlement, the rest of the gang would follow the train. Garth and the other outlaws on board would take over the train as it approached the water stop where Thorpe, Bodine, and Two Wolves had to be waiting with Joshua Shade. They wouldn’t know anything was wrong until it was too late. Once they were on board and settled in for the trip, the outlaws would stop the train again and the rest of the gang would swoop in to reinforce Garth and his men. The marshal and his companions would be taken by surprise and trapped.

Maggie thought this plan stood a good chance of working, more so than the other attempts the gang had made to free Shade. They would probably rob the train while they were at it, just as they had looted Pancake Flats when the opportunity presented itself.

Once Shade was in charge again, the gang would rebuild itself in no time, replacing the men who had been lost in the fighting so far, and before you knew it, they would be terrorizing the territory again under the leadership of the crazed preacher turned bloodthirsty killer.

And she was going to help that happen, Maggie thought as she closed her eyes in dismay for a moment. She struggled to control her emotions.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Garth glaring at her warningly. She knew the message he was trying to communicate.

Any chance Ike and Caleb still had depended completely on her. She couldn’t let them down, no matter what sort of evil she would be helping to unleash on the rest of the territory. The citizens of Arizona would just have to look out for themselves.

Garth nodded, evidently satisfied that Maggie was under control again. No one else in the railroad car seemed to notice the fleeting byplay.

The locomotive’s whistle shrilled, and the cars lurched into motion. The station platform seemed to move past and then suddenly was gone. Pancake Flats fell behind the train.

They were on their way to the final act in this bloody drama, Maggie thought.

At least, she prayed that it would soon be over, one way or the other.

Sam dozed off every now and then as he lay on the water tank platform, but those few catnaps were the only sleep he got that night. He was young and resilient, though, so he actually felt fairly well rested the next morning.

Because of that, he was alert enough to spot the approaching locomotive while it was still quite a distance away. He watched the smoke rising from its stack for a minute or so, then cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down to the others, “Train’s coming!”

Matt stepped out from behind the shed and nodded. “I’ll go fetch the horses,” he called in return. He turned and trotted off toward the arroyo.

Sam tucked his Winchester under his arm and started climbing down the ladder. By the time he reached the ground, Thorpe and Everett had come out from behind the shed as well, prodding Joshua Shade in front of them with their rifles.

Shade’s wrists were tied together, and several turns in the rope had been taken around his body, pinning his arms at his sides. A short length of rope bound his ankles so that he could walk, but would fall on his face if he tried to run.

The gag was still in place, but Shade was as wild-eyed as ever and made grunting noises through it. Sam had no doubt that the loco outlaw would be cussing and ranting up a storm if not for the gag. Probably foaming at the mouth, too. Shade had the look of a rabid animal about him.

Matt came back from the arroyo leading all the horses. He looked at Shade, grinned, and said, “He doesn’t look so dangerous now, does he?”

“Don’t you believe it,” Thorpe said. “I won’t believe that Shade is past the point of hurting anybody else until he’s swinging from a hangrope.”

“That shouldn’t be too much longer now,” Sam said. “The train will be here in a few minutes, and by tonight he’ll be safely locked up at Yuma. How long do you think it’ll take for the sentence to be carried out, Marshal?”

Thorpe shook his head. “I don’t know, but it can’t be soon enough to suit me. If not for my orders, I’d throw a rope over one of the beams on that water tank and haul him up right here and now.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me, too,” Matt said.

“I didn’t say we were actually going to do it,” Thorpe replied with a frown. “Shade’s going to hang, but it’ll be legal. If you wanted a lynching, you should have let that mob have him the first time back in Arrowhead.”

Sam said, “Take it easy, Marshal. Nobody wants a lynching.”

The train had drawn closer as they were talking. Its whistle blew, and steam billowed as the drivers reversed and the locomotive began to slow down. The screech of metal against metal rose into the hot morning air.

Thorpe and Everett forced Shade forward, each of them gripping one of the outlaw’s shoulders. Matt and Sam flanked them and held their Winchesters ready.

Suddenly, the blood brothers glanced at each other. Sam felt instinct prickling the hairs on the back of his neck, and he could tell from Matt’s expression that he was experiencing the same thing.

Something was wrong here, even though everything about the train looked completely normal.

Garth had been keeping an eye on the passing landscape and estimating how far the train had come from Pancake Flats. He knew from what the ticket clerk had told him that the water stop was twenty miles west of the settlement, and he knew about how long it should take them to reach it.

When he figured there were only a few miles to go, he stood up and started toward the front of the car, giving minuscule nods to Jeffries and his other men as he passed them. Jeffries waited a moment and then followed him.

The other three outlaws remained behind. They wouldn’t reveal their presence until the rest of the gang arrived. As far as anybody other than the conductor, the engineer, and the fireman were concerned, everything about this water stop would be perfectly normal.

Garth hadn’t decided how far to let things go before he forced the engineer to stop the train again. Before it got to Tucson, that was for damned sure. He wanted Bodine, Two Wolves, and Thorpe good and relaxed before he made his move, though. He wanted those sons of bitches to think all their troubles were behind them.

It would be that much sweeter when they realized that they were all doomed.

Garth had seen the conductor pass through the car a few minutes earlier, headed toward the front of the train. He and Jeffries caught up to the man at the front of the first passenger car, with only the coal tender between them and the engine. As they stepped out onto the platform where the conductor was standing, the blue-uniformed man nodded to them and asked, “Something I can do for you gents?”

Garth drew his gun as Jeffries closed the door behind them so no one in the car could see what was going on. Before the conductor had time to realize what was going on, Garth jammed the Colt’s muzzle in the man’s belly. He said, “You can do what you’re told, or I’ll blow your guts right through your backbone.”

A sharply indrawn breath of surprise hissed between the conductor’s teeth as he stiffened in alarm. “Is this a holdup?” he asked.

“Nope. You’re gonna take my pard and me up to the engine, you understand? You cooperate with us, and nobody’ll get hurt.”

Nobody but Thorpe, Bodine, Two Wolves, and anybody else who got in their way, Garth thought.

For a moment, the conductor looked like he might be stubborn, but then he sighed and nodded. “All right,” he said. “Just leave the passengers alone.”

Garth jabbed harder with the pistol, making the man gasp in pain. “Don’t go givin’ orders,” Garth snapped. “Now move.”

The conductor turned and started making his way along the narrow walkway built onto the side of the coal tender. Garth held the gun in his right hand, and used the left to hold the grab-irons along the way. The train swayed slightly, and if a man wasn’t careful, he could get pitched off. Jeffries came along behind him, also with a drawn gun.

They reached the end of the walkway. The conductor stepped around onto the platform at the front of the tender, which was closely coupled to the locomotive. The engineer sat on his stool, leaning over slightly to peer out the window along the tracks as he held his hand loosely on the throttle. The fireman was on the other side of the cab, leaning on his shovel at the moment.

The fireman spotted Garth and Jeffries first, and started to lift his shovel as if he intended to use it as a weapon. Jeffries stepped around Garth and the conductor and leveled his gun at the man.

“Don’t do it, friend,” he warned.

The engineer bolted up off his stool. “What the hell!”

“Careful, Fred,” the conductor warned. “This bastard’s got a gun in my back!”

Garth said, “And since we don’t need you anymore, I don’t cotton to bein’ called a bastard!”