Sentinels (30 page)

“I ain't ever done this before.” Adrenaline boosted Lyle's confidence. “And I can pretty much guaran-god-damn-tee you ain't either. So, whaddya say, we're about one-hundred feet apart. Think that'll do?”

Lyle stood ready before the burning barn, which collapsed inward, sending aloft immense plumes of embers and smoke. Heat licked his backside but did not stir him to move. Noah, staked before the water well and swaying cornfields, also felt the heat and couldn't surmise how Lyle withstood it.

“For all the marbles, Chandler. You should know: I
won't
miss.”

Noah tried thinking of something snappy to say.

“You're probably right,” he said evenly—but thought,
Really?
That's the best you could do?

They stood apart, waiting for the other to flinch.

Lyle's hand remained steady as it hovered a hair above his LeMat.

Noah's fingers trembled.

They drew at once and fired.

Lyle remained standing. Noah tumbled back against the well and held his hand to his bleeding belly.

“You didn't even come close, boy.” Lyle sauntered in for the kill. Diggs appeared from his hiding spot and approached the house.

Lyle holstered his weapon and was within twenty feet of Noah, who slid himself back against the stone well, pressing the wound.
Maybe the two things that are finishing off Preston will come back and catch Lyle and Diggs by surprise,
Noah thought
. I doubt they know there're still two of them left.
Noah took zero solace in knowing he might soon be joined in death by a twisted assassin and his paymaster.

“Now, I'd have preferred to have finished you clean, you know, through the heart.” Lyle stood at Noah's feet. “But I never said I was a sharpshooter—only that I wouldn't miss.”

Diggs rejoined Lyle but kept his distance from him, not certain what he'd do next.

“Wait, Lyle, we still don't know the whereabouts of Toby's wife.”

“Well, shit, you're right.” Lyle beamed and turned his attention back to the scarecrow. “Couple of axes over there, Chandler. I was gonna burn it out of you before. But I think cutting'll do the job. I can add to your gash collection.” He turned to Diggs. “Go fetch 'em for me, would you?”

Diggs didn't mind taking the order.

“Here.” He timidly handed over the weapons, like he'd never held an ax in his life. “Just put him out of his misery once you're certain he's telling the truth.”

“Oh, I will.” He flashed dirty teeth at Noah, who tossed aside his empty Colt.

“Even if I knew, I'd never say.” Noah stared at Lyle, trying to suppress dread. “I'll fight you with every bit of strength I got.”

“I'd expect nothing less.” Lyle stooped like a sumo wrestler, gripping each ax mid-handle, preparing to swoop in and chop.

“Lyle,” called a familiar voice.

He stood and turned toward the sound coming from the house and saw Franklin in the archway aiming a Derringer. Lyle dropped the ax in his gun hand and drew the LeMat but not before Franklin popped a bullet into his heart. Lyle had yet to turn to aim at Franklin and still faced Noah, who watched as the momentum of Lyle's draw brought the gun toward Noah as it rose. The LeMat slipped from Lyle's hand and glided toward Noah.

“Traitor!” Diggs flicked his wrist to reveal his own Derringer. Franklin pivoted and triggered his second shot at Diggs but no lead fired.

“Empty!” Diggs cocked both his Derringer's hammers and pointed, only his chest exploded before he could pull.

“I'm not.” Noah steadied the LeMat as smoke swirled from its tip while the blast's echo died in the distance. The center barrel's 20 gauge buckshot blew Diggs off his feet. The body landed ten feet behind where he originally stood.

Lyle staggered and dropped to his knees. He glared at Noah as his life pumped out of him. Using his waning strength he brought back the ax. Noah cocked and switched the LeMat's hammer to fire the .44 caliber bullets but none remained.

Neither Noah nor Franklin saw Toby Jenkins creep up behind Lyle to smash the rear of his skull with the shovel used earlier to unearth Toby's own grave. The blow sent Lyle headfirst into the ground to die, knocking his smelly Stetson onto Noah's lap.

Chapter Forty-One

“I don't know what I'd like answered first.” Noah, still slouched against the well, labored in between breaths. “How you survived two bullets to your heart, or where the hell you been all this while?”

“I've got to get you to the doctor.” Toby, dusty from head to toe, grimaced at the sight of the dark blood staining Noah's shirt. Franklin stood on the porch, not knowing what to do.

“Are you dead, Toby?” It was Noah, murmuring as his strength faded.

“Noah, you
need Doc Richardson.” Toby crouched and placed his hand on Noah's shoulder. “
Now
.”

“I'd rather the doc care for my wife first.” He inhaled before sighing out the last part. “To be honest with you.”

“He already has.”

Noah, confused, stared at Toby. “How do you know?”

“Where do you think I was most of the time?”

“Up until about two minutes ago? Heaven or hell. That's why I'm asking if you're dead. Based on the day I've had, it wouldn't surprise me if the answer's yes.”

“I'm not dead, Noah.”

“Then how are you alive?”

Ten men, at least seven of them soldiers, followed by a dual horse-drawn wagon, turned left off the road onto Toby's property.

“Good, the doc's here,” Toby said.

“
How
did he know to come?!”

“Calm down, Noah. Save your strength.”

“Mister Jenkins, I saw Mister Diggs and Lyle shoot you. I buried you myself.”

“And I'm glad it was you who buried me.” Toby smiled.

“I don't get it.”

“I know.”

Noah recognized the sheriff's deputy leading the charge: Harrison. Noah's gaze wandered to the rear of the procession to Doctor Richardson, sitting alongside Sarah Jenkins, who held Isaac.

“I'll be right back.” Toby ran, not toward the approaching wagon, but to the grave plots and returned holding a few items.

He tossed a shovel blade onto Lyle's Stetson, which still rested before Noah.

“I fit that under my shirt yesterday after Sarah called for me while I was talking to you. Excused myself and went into my barn. Oh, and I layered this over it and wrapped twine around my chest to keep it all in place.”

Toby dangled a thin slab of meat wriggling with maggots. “Sorry 'bout the smell.”

“Is that your liver?” It was Franklin.

Toby laughed, an unexpected loud bark. “No, my friend, it isn't. It
was
a fine cut of beef, actually. I needed something to pass for a chest wound. The bullets went right through it and wedged in the shovel. If you look you can see the dents they made.”

“How'd you breathe?” Franklin asked.

“I dug the grave so there'd be a minimal amount of dirt covering me—enough for me to maneuver. And I kept a few of these in the hole.” Toby held up a couple of hollowed-out lengths of sugar cane.

“You didn't see it, but when you laid me in the grave, I felt around and grabbed one. I snuck it in my mouth when you took a break from shoveling. I almost gagged. I appreciate you burying my head last—otherwise things would've been more complicated. Once you were done I pushed this little guy out of my mouth so it could poke through the dirt. It wasn't the most comfortable way to breathe, but it did the job. I snuck out of there late at night because I had to be certain there was nobody around. The place was crawling with Diggs's men all day. They'd have seen me for sure.”

Noah glanced at the shovel. “But what if Diggs had shot you in the head?”

“I'd be dead.”

“How did you know he'd aim for your chest?” Noah hesitated. Questions formed in his head too fast to be asked. “Or that they were even coming at that time?”

“I didn't—not a hundred percent. I had a hunch. So did Sarah.”

“I don't—” Noah stopped when sounds of heavy splashing rose from the water well.

“Quiet down there!” Toby shouted down the well. “Rest.”

Toby focused on the bottom reaches of the well. “Rest now. I'll call on you later.” The splashing ceased almost immediately.

Noah watched Toby, whose eyes momentarily appeared vacant and white—or so Noah thought. But a double-take revealed them to be brown and wide.

They sure looked white as snow, though,
Noah thought, and then spoke. “Toby, what the hell's down there?”

“Not now, Noah. Not yet.”

Things got blurrier for Noah. He felt cold.

Noah saw visions of men hopping off horses, guns drawn, scouring the property, then Doctor Richardson jogging to his side, lowering himself while opening his medical bag, and pulling out a rag and a bottle.

“I've got you, son. I've got you.”

Richardson placed a damp rag over Noah's mouth and nose and sleep came quickly.

Chapter Forty-Two

“I want to know one thing.” Noah spoke groggily. Like Brendan, Lyle and, unbeknownst him, his wife, he awoke on Doctor Richardson's medical table. “Where are my wife and child?”

Richardson had been applying fresh bandages to Noah's stitched stomach wound and was relieved to hear his voice. “Right outside and—”

“Honey! Oh, thank God!” Natalie Chandler, a crutch under her arm, burst into the examination room from the waiting area. She stuck out the crutch and pressed it against Richardson's belly to move him back, and then took his place to bend over and smooch her husband.

Noah eased his arms around Nat to hug her. She sprang up, forcing his hands to his sides, and admonished him.

“Don't say a thing. Diggs was behind the attack on Leroy Elkton's place.” She glared at him wide-eyed and, out of the doctor's view, repeatedly raised her eyebrows—
hint-hint
.

“
Really?
”

“Missus Chandler,” Richardson interrupted. “I'd really like to finish re-bandaging your husband.”

She turned to him. “Give us a minute please.”

“I'll give you a couple, and then I'm finishing.” He left them for the waiting room.

“Jake?”

“He's with your parents, he's fine.” She repeatedly kissed her husband's stubbly cheeks.

“How long have I been out? What day is it?”

“Two full days—it's Wednesday.”

“Diggs couldn't have possibly been involved with Elkton's—”

She grabbed Noah's shoulders to stop him and leaned in to his ear and forcefully whispered.

“Now you listen: Diggs attacked Toby's farm Sunday afternoon.”

“Wait,
no.
It was Saturday and—”

Natalie jostled him. “Diggs attacked Toby's farm
Sunday
afternoon.
Got it?
”

“O-
kaaay
.”

“You were there getting corn for dinner when it happened. You and Toby held them off, allowing Sarah to escape with Isaac. As luck would have it, Deputy Harrison stopped by to pay a visit to us before his shift—right after Doreen and I killed those two assholes. Then Sarah arrived with Isaac, asking for help. You were
never
at our home.”

“I was hunkered down at Toby's place—all day Sunday?”

“Now you're getting it.” Natalie clapped him on his shoulder. “Harrison took me, Doreen, Sarah and the babies to the doctor's office. And after Richardson fixed me, Sarah pleaded with him to get to her place. Harrison rounded up a couple of deputies and—”

“Preston?”

Natalie expected it. “He's gone, Noah. Really. I have no idea where he's at.”

Noah stayed quiet.

“I recall seeing Harrison and some soldiers before the Doc got to me,” he said.

“Good. That's good.”

“What else don't I remember?”

“A lot. Just be like Franklin and play dumb. ‘I don't remember that' is your new favorite phrase that you say to anyone other than me, Sarah, Toby, Doreen and Harrison.”

“Wait, where the hell were you all? After you were attacked in the wagons, where'd they take you?”

“A cave. I couldn't tell you where. But they took us there and Sarah took charge of them, told us it'd be all right.”

Richardson knocked at the door. “Missus Chandler?”

“All right. Come on in.”

He did and she smiled at him. “Thank you, Doctor, for letting me be with my husband.”

“Get your stories straight?”

Natalie shot Richardson a confused expression. “Beg your pardon?”

He rolled his eyes. “
Puh-lease.
You don't become a doctor by being stupid.” Richardson walked to Noah's side and waited for Natalie to scoot out of the way. “I'm also not about to ask questions about a bunch of racist criminals and corrupt lawmen who got what was coming to them. I'm presently concerned that my patients—including you—are healing. How's the leg feeling?”

Natalie nodded appreciatively.

“Better, thank you.”

“Now, Doreen Culliver is out there waiting for you.”

“I know—she's my ride.”

“Well, I think Noah's parents might appreciate knowing he's alert enough for them to visit,” Richardson said. “And it would be lovely for Doreen to take you to your in-laws to tell them.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I'll do just that.”

Richardson turned to Noah. “Is that all right with you, Deputy?”

“Yessir.”

“Good. Now, I am curious about one thing. Before I chloroformed you, you seemed to be hallucinating. A soldier who accompanied me believes he heard you say ‘there's a devil down the well' and has asked me if I recall hearing you say that.” Richardson paused. “And whether
you
might recall actually saying it.”

Noah inhaled deeply and furrowed his brow. “I don't remember that.”

Richardson looked at Natalie, who lingered between the examination and waiting rooms.

“Neither do I,” the doc said.

Nat smiled and left with Doreen.