Showdown With Fear (11 page)

*

On the dark plain, John and Sam McVie had stopped for the night just four miles out of Red Ridge, ready to plan the attack, as they knew that this time Mullen would be ready, and maybe be just a shade wiser.

John, Sam and Barero had felt a little uneasy leading such a massive number of men who were new to them. John had not been fully convinced about having a bunch of mercenaries behind them, and Sammy was more vocal in his discontent. As the men dismounted, ready to wait orders, Sammy had a quiet word with his big brother.

‘Now... I reckon you plan on hitting them first thing, with sun-up, right?’

‘Yes. We could go in now, but I think we’re pretty tired’

‘Well, John, I think you could talk to ‘em now. I mean, findin’ that skunk Mullen and his boy is one thing, but this crowd could do some serious damage. I mean, well, there are limits to what we do, am I right?’

John grimaced, drew in his lips. He was churning up inside, thinking of a way to make sure that he saw Dan Mullen lying dead at his feet. As to who else might suffer on the way, well he didn’t care that much. He said nothing, having no clear answer to his brother’s question.

‘I see.... so you don’t care?’

‘Sammy, listen up, and listen good. The last time we was here we did a few things that no upright, boring citizen is ever goin’ to forgive... so what do a few more boring citizens matter on the way? We’ll just set a few rules to these fellers.’ He called for their attention and the men walked up closer to him. They seemed to have a spokesman in an older man, bearded and with hair so long you couldn’t make out his age so well. Yet he seemed to be respected by the gang. They called him Teach but no-one bothered to find out his real name. It was Teach who spoke before John could go any further.

‘See here, young man. I’ve been asked by the men who’ve been with Stobart the longest to erm... to sort of make it clear what we want.’

‘Okay. Fire away.’

‘See, we realise that you don’t know any history as far as we go... and the point is, see, we’re basically robbers. We done trains, banks, swell-looking dude places. Ain’t never hit no town afore. I mean, what’s the deal? Cos we want to say right here an’ now that we don’t want no marshalls chasing us...nor no troops. Some men here like to be led, Mr. McVie.’

‘Well I’m right glad to hear that, as the point of this meetin’ is to tell you that I’m hitting Red Ridge to prise out one man in particular... name of Dan Mullen. The man has been well-mannered enough to invite me. And, boys, I got a score to settle. Now, the plan is that you boys ride in head-on and rattle down main street making one hell of a noise. Only shoot to hit if there’s any fool takin’ you on. Now Sammy, Filippo and me are gonna be flankin’ and creepin’ up the ass of the town...after we do a recky early tomorrow. Now, we ride in with the early sun. Catch ‘em with their pants down.’

‘So, sounds fine, but er... well, we was wonderin’ about, you know.’

Sammy cottoned on to this sly reference. ‘You get a nice fat bonus when Dan Mullen’s body is lying in the horse-shit. John here is offerin’ a hundred bucks apiece... right, big brother?’

John’s forehead creased in surprise, but he smiled and agreed. ‘But I must insist that Dan Mullen is reserved for myself. See, I would put all the cash I have on him bein’ in the Golden Halls, nursin’ a glass of whisky and waitin’ my arrival.’

The assembled mass thought McVie was half crazy, not knowing the story behind the probable events of the coming day. Teach seemed happy with all this, spat in his palm and shook hands with John. The booze was passed around, and as no fires were allowed, the men got under blankets. Teach was something of a storyteller and started telling of the day he once had hunting buffalo with a hundred drunken braves. It seemed to fill a vacuum.

Barero was lying on his back, apart from everyone else, considering the situation. He had always been the one to think tactics, due to his time with the Mexican army. There were ten men counting Grip back at the Nest. There were thirty-six here now, including himself, John and Sam. In the town there would be roundabout forty men but only a handful of gunmen, unless they had got help.

He wanted to go through his thinking with John, and, as Sammy dozed off, Barero asked John about these things.

‘Well, number one - they ain’t had time to fetch help. Fort Gerdon is occupied with the renegades to the west. There are no large numbers of people due... maybe the odd stage comin’ in. We can only guess at the type o’ men carrying guns tomorrow, but I reckon that Mullen, his son and maybe ten or so others are capable of firing shots at us. Seems like we got some advantage there, Filippo
mio
amigo
.
’
He spat some tobacco into the dust and brought his hat down over his eyes.

Barero knew why men called John McVie The Iceman. You would have thought he was going visiting relatives on a Sabbath afternoon, so cool he was. As far as Filippo Barero was concerned, the day coming was mostly a chance to win back his good name, and his own desire was to drag young Pete Mullen by the hair into the arms of death.

‘Get some sleep, Filippo. I’m dependin’ on you... I want you right behind me when we walk into that saloon... or even better, I want you round the side, ready to scare Mullen out of his rat hole. If we’re lucky, he’ll lose it again and drink the bottle down afore we get there, eh?’

‘It’s possible. He’s only one
hombre
after all, boss!’

Chapter 9

There was no sleeping in Red Ridge that night. Dan had called Harry, Pete, Ned Pearce, Helen and Joe Wright together in the quiet of the dressing-room of the Golden Halls to do some serious preparation.

‘See... we have to beat these men by brainwork. They got us outnumbered well and truly. Now, we have this barricade. We need the best riflemen on that... and then somewhere for them to fall back to. The idea is that we do what any sensible person under siege would do... we get into one small area we can defend effectively. ‘

‘The chapel?’ Joe Wright said.

‘No... the stables is best.’

‘But they burn real easy.... they’re gonna burn the place down, you reckon, Dan?’ Ned Pearce asked, with a note of panic. Dan shushed them all and started to draw on a sheet of invoices. ‘See, now I have some idea of how that rotten mind of John McVie’s tends to work... he’ll not send his boys in all in one rush, or even altogether. How many you guess they got, Pete?’

Even though Pete had been in the Nest he had not seen the valley nor the outlaws in the daylight. He was thinking like a blind man when he said, ‘I reckon I heard enough noise to suggest thirty men - maybe more.’

Dan carried on drawing a rough map of the whole town. ‘Right, now we shoot when we see the main body fairly close up, then run back to the bank... that’s the place that was built to keep these types out, surely? Meanwhile, Pete, Ned and me watch and wait in here. Joe, I want you to help Harry outside. Can you handle a gun?’

Joe looked nervous. ‘I never killed a man, sheriff. Maybe that goes for others as well?’

There were nods of agreement.

‘Well, now you learn a hard lesson. The good stuff in life tends to float away if you don’t fasten jaws on it.’

Helen had been biding her time, but now she spoke quietly, directly at Dan.

‘I have a suggestion, Dan. Couldn’t we use the roofs? We have some sort of advantage there surely?’

‘The only difficulty there is that we just don’t have the fire-power, otherwise, I agree.’ Dan realised that Helen needed more to do. He got everyone to their places and talked to her alone. He took her arm and pulled her to him. ‘Look, there’s been no time to say anything that really matters in this crazy time. The whole world seems to have got bullet-mad, but I know that what you did out there tells me far more than a thousand words. I’ve been dreaming about you... and coming back to some sort of normality. Now I know how you feel.’

‘Dan.... I always knew, deep down, that you were offering me something special, different... I mean, you’re not like anyone around here. It’s been miserable listening to folk crying you down. Jimmy’s been keeping me informed of your stunts, acting like some sort of athlete... just like you to overdo things!’

‘Well I aim to overdo things now, and where do you think you belong in this? I don’t want you here at all.... go to your father’s place please, huh?’

‘No... I can’t . You know I can use this gun here... I never shot a man but there’s a first time, and I think that I can.’

‘Well, keep near Pete for now. Then join Harry when they come. For Christ’s sake take care. I want you back here with me, with no bullets in your lovely body, Miss Lane.’ He held her to him and kissed her. It was a moment he had been aching for, all that time alone, a scapegoat for the people of Red Ridge. All that time living the life of a brooding loner, years of being on the fringe, unwanted, but not bearing to be away from Helen.

‘There were times I wanted to ride out and forget the stinking place... but then, most times I just thought of you and....’

Pete chose a bad time to rush in but it was good news. Sara had showed signs of recovery. She had actually sat up and drank some hot juice, then spoken. Dan put his arm around his son. ‘I’m real glad... now I’m counting on you and Ned tomorrow. We need to show that man some tricks with a Colt.’

Everyone took their positions. Harry was bossing the men on the barricade and filling every crack with whatever piece of wood came to hand. He insisted that a regiment would have problems blasting through there. There were hints of that orange glow that brought the day, and the men were nervy, expecting guns and noise any second.

Helen slipped into the shadows, took two rifles and clambered her way onto the roof of the chapel by way of the scaffolding. No-one saw her, so she chose a tight position with wooden boards protecting her. She had a good view down the main street.

Ned and Pete were doing some basic gun-lore in the porch of Golden Halls. Dan had told his son to turn a storekeeper into a gunman if he could. Preferably without scaring the horses. Meanwhile, Dan Mullen was sitting in exactly the same spot as he had all those hard years ago when he had waited for McVie to come. Everything was put in the same place. The gun on the table, another small revolver in a strung holster across his chest. Then a bottle of whisky on the table. On that day, he had been playing cards with a kid who was now in Texas. Otherwise, it was a replica of that time etched on his memory for ever.

This time, he wouldn’t touch anything. But as he sat, contemplating the coming confrontation, in his mind the entire drama was acted out again. The long wait, the people running in the streets. He had steeled his body that day to dealing with McVie once and for all. The man had been like a permanent sore throat, like something that hurt, niggled at you but you couldn’t get at it to free yourself. There had been threat after threat ever since the day he had shot Jim McVie. They were all like bad blood, and it was time they were all spilled out for good, so he could breathe easy again.

He went through his plan in his mind, then called Pearce and Pete in. Pearce was excited, like a child with a toy.

‘I been spinnin’ this thing like a real slinger, Dan... only hope I can pull off the real thing!’

‘Pete’s a good man, I taught him myself. Now, listen up. Here’s what we do. I’m going to sit right here, after firing some rifle shots from the porch, backing up the boys up the street there. McVie’s sure to come here... believe me I know....and when he does, I want you two back there... where all the fine dancing ladies put on their silks and stockings! You can come out and cover me, see? You can see the whole room from the little window there.’

‘Why wait there? Pete asked.

‘Because he’ll have men behind me. The only way they can come at me that way is across that stage, from the back door. The back door must be bolted and barred. If they have to make some noise coming in, I’ll have you two to tell me. You tell me by, to put it simply, blasting the hell out of them as they creep through the stage. Okay?’

They nodded.

‘Right... let’s get to positions... to the back room now! I’m on the porch. The more I can pick off when they come in force, the less to deal with later!’

Dan sat on the porch, rifle ready. He could see all the three hundred yards of the main street, up to the men at the barricade. He saw Harry fussing and checking everything, lit by the glow of the rising sun. The accounts clerks, cart-drivers, salesmen and stable boys of the town were now an army. He was impressed by the apparent discipline: no sound, and everybody in position. He could see a gun-barrel in every doorway, right down to the up-ended wagons and sacks of meal.

In that hill of wood, there were very frightened men. Their hearts thumped with expectation, more intensely with every new inch of light on the wood slanted and stacked around and above them. But there was still no sound. They were all wondering who was out there, and how many, and most of all how long,
how
long
now
? Sweat caked their shirt-fronts. There was sweat in their hat-bands. Their fists were moist. When would something disturb that threatening skyline, out to the west, where the law had no say?

Helen, stretched flat now above, offering no piece of her as a target, had been taught well by her father. She knew that she had a big advantage, but that survival depended on being almost impossible to hit. All a horseman would see would be a puff of smoke and the tip of a barrel. She lay flat as a plank and waited. She would be one of the first to see them arrive. There was one more man out on the roof of the bank where they would all fall back to.

*

On the plain, just a mile away now, the McVie bunch rode steadily, hacking easy towards the half-shadowed buildings. John was splitting off with Sam and Barero from the main body. He had told Teach to storm in, ride through, and work back through all streets. Fear first, kill if need be.

‘It’s fear... get ‘em on the run, you men. No killin’ unless they mean to peg you, okay?’

Filippo Barero was laughing inside at this. He knew that there was no chance of any restraint, not once you were in the thick of a gunfight. So did John McVie, he thought, but this was all a
loco
game. As he rode around to the other end of town with the brothers, he asked John, ‘Why you no fight the
hombre
... just you two huh?’

‘Simple... he’s too damned good. I want the odds in my favour. He owes me for Jim! Ain’t no way he’s comin’ out smilin’ my friend.’

They circled slowly but carefully, taking up a point about a quarter-mile from the west side of town, ready to move when the gunfire started. Sammy leaned across and shook his hand. Barero passed a bottle across.

‘We dreenk to a happy day!’

They did. They each took a long drink, then John wiped his lips and said, ‘Reckon he’s startin’ to feel real edgy now... see, he don’t know we got a damn girt
army
there eh? He’s thinkin’ that it’s just us... a few bandits with a grudge ..... he don’t know we got the unofficial cavalry!’ It wasn’t often that John McVie laughed, but he did at that moment. ‘Yeaah... it’s bound to be real pitiful watchin’ ‘em beg for us to go, eh amigos?’ Barero chuckled.

‘Personally, I’d like to pick up some fresh supplies of booze, okay?’ Sammy said.

Barero stuck the bottle back in his saddlebag, checked his two pistols and gave a yell. He had heard the guns. The waiting was over. They looked at each other, and John McVie said, ‘What are we waitin’ for? Let’s go deal out some justice!’

The spurs were dug in and they rode full-pelt at the little town that hung onto the rim of the wilderness like a nice-looking weed. They were aiming to pluck it up.