Read Hell on the Prairie Online
Authors: Ford Fargo
Tags: #action, #short stories, #western, #lawman, #western fiction, #gunfighter, #shared universe
“
Hey! Them’s B Bar beeves!” The shout
came from Reckon Willis. The answer was a volley of gunfire.
Reckon’s horse went down.
Billy wasted precious seconds reattaching
his lariat to the saddle fork. Then he drew the Remington that hung
from his belt in its homemade holster. He eared the hammer back and
looked for someone to shoot.
A dark shape showed. Billy assumed none of
the Brodrick drovers would be so far east. He pushed the big
six-shooter out at arm’s length and held low, figuring it would be
easier to hit a horse than the man riding it. He pulled the
trigger. Exploding powder sent the .46 caliber bullet slashing
through the dust.
The dark horse reared. Billy heard a whinny.
He grimaced. Shooting horses was not what he signed on to do. He
cocked the Remington again, aimed at the same animal, and pulled
the trigger. This time, the horse went down.
Billy reined Berry wide of the downed horse,
hoping to avoid the rider. He couldn’t see Reckon anywhere, so he
started pushing the lead steers, the ones left from the cutting
action of the big men and their big horses. He left the Remington
on half-cock and shoved it back into its new holster.
There was no rain and no lightning, nothing
to keep the half-wild longhorns running. They began to slow. Billy
rode at the head, slapping steers with his lariat and turning them
west. Then Brodrick was there, and Sam Morgan, the kid called
Sonny, and Long Tom. The herd turned and started milling.
“
Good job, Billy,” Brodrick said.
“Don’t look like we lost a lot of stock.”
“
I shot a horse,” Billy
said.
“
A what?”
“
A horse.”
“
Why in heaven’s name would you go and
shoot a horse?”
“
Easier to hit than the
rider.”
“
Rider?”
“
Five or six. Big men on big horses.
Cut off a bunch of our cows. I shot one of their horses. They shot
before me, and Reckon Willis’s horse went down, too.”
“
Show me.”
Billy reined Berry around and rode back
toward Red River. The big horse had gone down maybe half a mile
behind, but there was no moon and the stars gave precious little
light. Billy squinted, searching for a black lump that could be the
downed horse, but it was Berry that led them straight to the dead
animal. One minute Billy could see nothing, the next, a dark mound
appeared ahead. He could soon tell it was a horse, lying flat on
its side with its neck stretched out like it was still running full
speed.
“
Right here, boss.”
Brodrick came up. He looked at the downed
horse for a long moment, then swung his right leg over the cantle
to dismount.
On the ground, he dug a Lucifer from his
vest pocket and struck it alight with a thick thumbnail. He held
the flickering flame over the hindquarters, then the dead horse’s
shoulder. “No brand on this side,” he muttered. “Ain’t often a
cayuse is branded on the off side. Hmmm.”
“
There was half a dozen riders, boss,”
Billy said. “They cut out some beeves. They was on big horses like
that one there.”
“
Hmmm.” Brodrick remounted.
“
Reckon Willis’s horse went down,
too,” Billy said. “Them riders was shooting at us.”
“
No rider here. Got away, or off far
enough so we can’t see ’im. Let’s go look for Reckon,” Brodrick
said. “Lead out.”
Again, Billy let Berry pick the way back to
where bullets from the big men had downed Reckon’s horse. And
again, Billy couldn’t make out the shape of the downed pony until
Berry stopped.
There was no lump in the darkness. Instead,
dim whitish lattice of bare ribs showed. The dead horse had been
trampled flat on the hard ground. Only its ribcage stood proud.
“
Here,” Billy said. “What’s left of
the horse is here.” He searched the heavily trodden ground for
signs that said Reckon had been trampled like the horse. “Don’t
seem that Reckon got tramped,” he said.
“
Hey!” a faint cry came from off
toward the river. “Hey! It’s me, I reckon.”
Billy and Brodrick turned to stare into the
darkness.
“
Hang on. I’ll be there directly.” But
he didn’t show.
Billy still peered into the black night,
searching for some sign of Reckon Willis, but all he saw was
nothing. Berry sidled around until she faced the way Reckon’s voice
came from.
“
Take him back to the chuckwagon,”
Brodrick said. “We’ll come back for the saddle and stuff after
daybreak.” He reined the stallion around and spurred him away
toward the herd.
“
Billy? Billy? That you,
kid?”
“
I’m here, Reckon.”
“
Cain’t walk. Could ya come
over?”
“
Yep,” Billy said. He chucked Berry
toward the sound of Reckon’s voice.
“
Watch out, man. Don’t let that clumsy
cayuse of yours step on me.”
“
Reckon!” Billy could see Reckon now,
a darker shadow on the dark ground. “Can’t you git up?”
“
Nope.”
“
Jayzus,” Billy muttered. He
dismounted and dropped the reins on the ground. Berry knew not to
stray when she was ground-tied.
Reckon Willis lay on his side with his knees
drawn up. “Glad to see ya, kid. Almost figured I was done in.”
“
What’s hurting?”
“
Purty much ever’thing.”
“
Reckon you can ride?”
“
Get me into the saddle. I’ll ride,”
Reckon said.
Billy had seen men carry other men. He’d
never tried it himself. “Give me a hand,” he said.
Reckon Willis lifted an arm. Billy took hold
of his wrist and squatted so he could bring the arm across his
shoulders. “You’re gonna have to do your part,” he said. “I’m gonna
try to stand up. You come alongside.”
“
Go to it.”
Billy worked to straighten his legs, heaving
Reckon to his feet as he rose.
“
Aaaargh!
Be
gentle, kid!”
“
Ain’t no gentle way to do it, man,
unless you want to wait for daylight so I can get some of the boys
to help.”
“
Just making conversation.”
“
Hmmph. I’m going on up,” Billy said,
and again put all his muscle power into getting Reckon Willis to
his feet.
Reckon moaned and screeched, but every time
Billy acted like he was going to give up, Reckon would tell him to
keep at it.
Billy finally got Reckon all the way over to
Berry, to where he could hold the horn with his good left hand.
“You get a good grip, Reckon. I’ll put a shoulder under your butt
and see if we can’t get you up onto this here Berry mare.”
Reckon said nothing, which Billy took for
assent. He squatted and put a shoulder under Reckon’s buttocks.
“
Thanks for the horse, cowboys. Little
cracker ass that she is.”
Shit.
Billy froze, crouched, with his shoulder
under Reckon’s butt and no way to reach for his Remington. Then he
slid out from under Reckon so he could see over the saddle.
A big shadow came up on Berry’s off side; a
man dressed all in black, a man with charcoal or something rubbed
on his face, a man who stood over six feet tall, if an inch, with
thick shoulders that stretched the fabric of his shirt. Up close,
Billy could see all that.
“
Horse stealing and rustling’ll getchu
hung, mister,” Billy said. “’Sides, my
compañero’s
hurt, thanks to a bunch of
rustlers.”
“
You’re awful small to be talking so
big. I’ll take the cracker-ass mare.”
Reckon Willis said nothing. In fact, he went
almost completely limp, like he’d drawn his last breath.
“
Weren’t rustling cows,” the big man
said. “Just exacting a toll, that’s what. Just a toll for passing
through here.” He pulled Berry’s head around, but she planted her
feet wide and stubborn and refused to move.
“
Come on, cayuse,” the man
said.
But with Reckon hanging onto the horn, Berry
knew her rider wasn’t seated right and she wouldn’t budge.
“
Stupid damn hoss,” the man
said.
Billy wondered why the man hadn’t pulled a
gun. Lost when the big horse went down?
“
I’m gonna let you down,” he said to
Reckon and stepped away. But Reckon still hung onto the horn with
his good hand.
The big man jerked Berry’s head around and
yanked on the reins. Stubborn to the core, Berry stood with her
legs spread wide and her head down.
“
Damn mare,” the big man said. “Turn
yourself around.”
Billy stood in Reckon’s shadow and worked
the Remington out of its tight new holster. The click made when he
carefully eared the hammer back was next to inaudible. The gun had
only three live rounds in it because he’d forgotten to reload after
taking those shots at the big man’s big horse. At the very least,
he figured, the big man trying to steal Berry was one of the outfit
that ran off B-Bar beeves.
Just as the big man got ready to give
Berry’s reins another jerk, Billy put the Remington across the
saddle seat and pointed it right at the big man’s chest. “Mister, I
don’t like the way you’re treating my little mare. Berry’s
sensitive. Now this here Remington’s loaded and cocked, mister, and
if I can hit your horse at fifty yards, I sure as Hell can hit you
from across this saddle.”
The big man’s hands stopped sudden-like. He
held them about shoulder high, forearms at right angles with his
upper arms. “Now, boy. No need for misunderstandings here.”
Billy could see him coiling up, it seemed,
like a rattler getting ready to strike. With snakes, you killed ’em
before they could kill you. He pulled the trigger.
The .46 caliber chunk of lead took the
rustler in the hollow of his neck, punching a hole through his
windpipe and his esophagus, then shattering his spine as it tried
to exit.
The big man dropped without a sound. Berry
stood still, like the good night horse she was.
“
Get ’im?” Reckon’s question was a
hoarse whisper.
“
Yeah.” Billy’s hands shook as he
belatedly shucked empty shells from the Remington and refilled its
cylinder.
“
Get me on the goldam horse,” Reckon
said. “Cain’t hold on much longer.”
Putting shoulder to butt and straining
upward took the shakes from Billy’s body, but he didn’t really want
to look at the big man who lay dead, sprawled where he’d
fallen.
Clawing and straining by Reckon, and pushing
and shoving by Billy, finally got Reckon up into the saddle. “You’d
better have a look at that thing there on the ground,” Reckon said.
“Might be something useful on ’im.”
“
Ain’t never killed nobody before,”
Billy said. Even his voice shook.
“
Him ’er us. That’s what it was, I
reckon.”
Light started to show in the east. The land
tuned from dark gray and black to stretches of brownish gray land
and stands of greenish black loblollies and water oak.
“
You sitting on that saddle good?”
Billy asked.
“
I reckon.”
Berry stood still, ignoring the dead man on
the ground next to her.
“
I’ll have a look at the rustler,
then.” Billy stepped gingerly around his mare and peered down on
the big man. The growing dawn made it a lot easier to see, and
Billy bit his lip at what he saw. The dead man’s eyes were wide
open, like someone had really surprised him, but they were dry, not
shiny at all. His face was untouched, but the entry hole in his
throat was now a pool of blood, and his neck crooked at an odd
angle.
The raggedy growth of whiskers on the
rustler’s face said he’d been out of town for some time, but it
wasn’t thick enough or long enough to brand him as a mountain man.
And his black clothes weren’t worn enough or dirty enough to say he
was a long way from home. Billy dug his fingers into a shirt pocket
that showed a bulge. He came up with a bag of shredded tobacco and
a little pipe that looked carved of hickory. The other shirt pocket
held nothing. The big man’s holster was empty. Somewhere, he’d lost
his six-gun. Maybe when his horse went down.
Billy grabbed an arm and turned him over. No
rear pockets on the California pants, so he turned him back. Front
pockets yielded a couple of half-dimes and a Barlow knife. A big
splotch of wetness said the rustler had peed his pants, and the
smell that hit Billy as he searched the man’s britches pockets said
he’d shat himself, too. Billy wrinkled his nose as he unbuckled the
big man’s gunbelt and pulled it free.
“
Nothing much,” Billy said. “I’ll give
it to the boss.”
“
Yeah. Let’s do it,” Reckon said. But
when Billy reached for Berry’s reins, the rumble of galloping
horses came from the west, and Walt Brodrick and three drovers rode
over the rise in a cloud of dust.
“
Never mind, boss’s here,” Billy
said.
Brodrick’s stallion came to a stiff-legged
hopping stop next to the dead rustler. “Whatta we got here?”
“
I reckon he was riding that horse I
shot,” Billy said. “He tried to steal Berry, so I shot
him.”
Brodrick stared at the rustler, who stared
at the sky. “I’ll be damned,” he said.
“
He had this stuff,” Billy said,
holding the tobacco, pipe, Barlow knife, and half-dimes out to
Brodrick. The gunbelt hung over Billy’s shoulder.