The Drifter (20 page)

There was not a cloud in the sky.

Doc Bracken came over and looked at Vivian for a few seconds. He lifted his gaze to Frank and shook his head. The doctor's eyes were filled with sorrow.

Frank felt as though an anvil had fallen on him.

“Look after Conrad, Frank,” Vivian told him. “Promise me you'll do that."

“I will, Viv. I promise."

“He's home right now. I gave him a sedative. He probably slept right through the shooting."

“I'll do my best to take care of him, Viv."

“Let's get her to my office, Frank.” Bracken had placed a cloth over Viv's major chest wound. “Stops the sucking, Frank. She might have a chance."

Bracken waved some men over and they gently picked Viv up and carried her away. Frank stood up and looked around him. The main street of town resembled a war zone. There were at least two dozen men, women, and children dead or wounded. There wasn't a window left intact. The barber shop was gone, and the buildings on either side of it were heavily damaged.

Jerry walked up, a bandage on his head. “You hurt bad?” Frank asked.

“Naw. I just got conked on the head by a flying board, that's all. Bled like crazy for a few seconds. Angie thought I was bad hurt. How's Mrs. Browning?"

Frank shook his head. “Real bad,” he said softly. “She caught three bullets in the chest."

“I'm sorry, Frank. Jimmy?"

“Dead. That's him between the seats in the carriage."

“The driver is dead, too. He's on the other side of the carriage."

“Let's go see what we can do to help and get the prisoners over to the jail."

“We might have some trouble keeping a lynch mob from taking the prisoners."

“I couldn't blame them for trying,” Frank replied. “But that's not going to happen in my town."

Frank and Jerry rounded up the surviving outlaws and marched them over to the jail and locked them down. “Stay here,” he told Jerry. He left the office and walked up to a group of businessmen. “You're all deputized,” he informed them. “Your job is to stay at the jail and guard the prisoners. You will prevent a lynching. Is that understood?"

It was, and the men agreed, although quite reluctantly.

“Fine. Get over to the jail and relieve Jerry. Tell him I need him out here, now. Move!"

Jerry joined him in the street and Frank said, “Let's get a tally of the dead and wounded. You start that while I find Jenkins and see how hard the bank was hit."

“Will do, Frank."

Men were shooting badly injured horses, putting them out of their misery.

“They didn't get away with a nickel,” Jenkins told Frank. “We recovered every dollar. How many dead do we have?"

“I don't know yet. Jerry's checking on that now. But it's going to be high."

“Mrs. Browning?"

“Doc Bracken said she was still alive, but unconscious. She's hard hit."

“Was it the Pine and Vanbergen gangs that hit us, Frank?"

“Yes. Selected members. The rest of the gang was scheduled to pull something else."

“For God's sake, what? And where?"

“The one doing all the talking didn't know. Or said he didn't"

“You believe him?"

“He's pretty damned scared, Mayor. There's a chance he's telling the truth."

A citizen ran up to the men, nearly out of breath. “We've got over twenty dead so far. Mayor, Marshal,” he gasped. “About that many wounded."

“Dear God!” Mayor Jenkins breathed. “How many of the wounded are critical?"

“Near'bouts all of them."

“All right, mister. Thanks,” Frank told him. “Go sit down over yonder and catch your breath."

“No time,” the citizen said. “One of the dynamite charges was tossed into Miss Rosie's place up on the hill. Some of her girls is still buried under the rubble. Maybe eight or ten of them. And Miss Rosie's missin', too."

“My wife's been griping and raising hell about that whorehouse for months,” Jenkins said. “She wanted it gone, but not this way."

Frank swung into the saddle of the first horse he came to and rode up to Rosie's House of Delights, or what was left of the place, picking his way around the blocked road. There were dead and badly injured soiled doves on both sides and in front of the ruined old two-story home. There were plenty of men helping to search for and dig out those trapped, so Frank rode on.

No one had thought to look for dead or wounded at the small mining claims that dotted the area around the town, and Frank had a hunch that had also been part of the gang's plan. Many of the men working the smaller mines had found pockets of gold, and did not trust the bank to hold it for them. They kept it in hidden places around their shacks. Ned Pine and Vic Vanbergen would have had spies working the town, buying drinks for thirsty miners, and would know some of the claims that were producing.

Frank's worst hunch paid off. The roar of the Gatling guns, the booming of the dynamite, and the screaming of the wounded had managed to cover the sound of the attack on a number of the small mines ... and the attacks had been especially vicious. There were dead men and women nearly everywhere Frank looked.

Frank found one dazed but unhurt young man. “You have a horse, boy?"

“Yes, sir."

“Get on it and ride into town. Tell my deputy what's happened up here.” Frank stared at the confused-looking teenager. “Do you understand what I just told you?"

The young man blinked a couple of times. “Ah ... yes, sir."

“Move, boy!"

Frank did what he could for the wounded and waited for help from the town to arrive.

Soon Jerry rode up with about a dozen men, and for a moment they sat their horses and stared in disbelief at the carnage.

“A couple of you check out those mines up ahead for dead and wounded,” Frank said. “Rest of you get down and help me identify these bodies."

“The telegraph is out, too, Frank,” Jerry told him. “I guess the gangs pulled down the wires just as they were hitting the town."

“It was sure a well-thought-out plan, Jer, no doubt about that."

“They didn't care who they killed. I've never seen anything so vicious."

“The death count still rising?"

“Yes. By the minute, it seems like. A lot of women and kids were killed.” Jerry shook his head. “Most of the stores on Main Street were damaged. Several of them will be closed for a long time while repairs are made."

“Some of them probably won't ever reopen. God!” Frank exclaimed. “Look at the bodies."

“We're going to have to match up the names of some of these people with records from the assayer's office."

Frank nodded his head. “We'll be lucky to match up half of them. Jerry, did you see Kid Moran do anything to aid the outlaws?"

“No. Not a thing. And he's gone. So is Big Bob Mallory."

“Figures. How about Charles Dutton?"

“I guess he's still in town. I haven't seen him."

“Any chance of getting Doc Bracken up here?"

“Not a chance, Frank. He's operating fast as he can, and the wounded keep piling up. He's moved his operatin' to the church buildin' on Willow Street."

“All right. See if you can get a couple of wagons. We'll move the wounded into town."

“How about the bodies?"

Frank sighed. “I guess we'll leave them where they fell for the time being. Let's see to the living first."

“Frank, I haven't seen Conrad Browning."

“Vivian told me she gave him a sedative this morning. He slept through the attack. I'd better go check on him and get him up and moving. He might not get another chance to see his mother alive."

“Don't give up on her, Frank. She's a strong woman with a powerful will to live."

“She took three rounds in the chest, Jer. Looks like one went through a lung and another punched through a kidney."

“But she's still alive."

“Yeah. Take over here, Jer. I'll be in town."

Frank rode into town and checked on Vivian. She was still clinging to life. He went to the Browning estate and got Conrad up and moving. He made coffee while Conrad washed his face and dressed. Then he told him what had happened.

The young man went white in the face with shock. “Mother?"

“She's still alive."

“Take me to her, Marshal."

“Of course."

Frank took Conrad to the doctor's office, where a local woman who was Bracken's nurse was sitting with Vivian. A very subdued Conrad took a chair by his mother's bed and reached out, touching her and finally taking her hand into his.

Frank slipped outside, leaving the mother and son together. He stood alone for a few moments, then carefully rolled a cigarette and smoked it, but he got no pleasure from it. The tobacco was bitter tasting on his tongue, all mixed up with the lonely feelings of sorrow and regret, for himself, for Conrad, and especially for Vivian.
And
, he thought with a sigh, forcing himself to admit it,
for all the things that might have been and now can never be. Never, ever be.

Jerry rode up and dismounted, walking over to Frank. “How is she, Frank?"

“Doc Bracken says there is no hope, Jer. Conrad is in there with her now."

“How is he holdin' up?"

“Being a very strong and brave young man. But I don't think that's going to last for any length of time."

“They were real close, weren't they?"

“Yes."

“Frank, I hate to bring this up now, but I've got to. We've got forty-two people dead and seventy wounded, some of them real serious. We can't get word out, the telegraph is down, and the road is blocked by the outlaws about three miles out of town."

“What?"

“They want the money in the bank, Frank. All of it. We just got that word. And they know to a penny how much Jenkins had in his bank."

“How the hell could they know that?"

“One of the tellers was involved. Young man name of Dean Hill. His girlfriend came to the office and told me about him. She's over there now. Wants to talk to you."

“All right. Where is this Dean Hill now?"

“He rode out with the survivors of the holdup."

“I'll make you a wager. If he isn't dead by now, he will be very shortly."

“No bet. The young man has served his purpose. No point in keepin' him around. Those outlaws damn sure aren't goin' to share with him."

“Let's go see this girlfriend. Not that she'll be able to tell us much. How long do the outlaws think they'll be able to keep the pass closed?"

“Forever, Frank. She told me they plan on warning anyone wanting in that there is a smallpox epidemic in town. No one is allowed into town."

“Pretty good plan Vic and Ned worked out."

“Yeah. What are you goin' to do, Frank?"

“See this girl. Then I'm going to open the road ... or die trying."

 

 

 

Twenty-Two

 

 

Frank talked briefly with the frightened young lady in his office. She told him basically what she had told Jerry. She ended with, “What do you suppose will happen to Dean?"

Frank didn't want to tell her that her beau was probably already dead. “He'll have to stand trial, miss. I don't know what the judge will do.”
If he is alive he'll spend the rest of his life in prison
, he thought.

After the young woman had left, Frank told Jerry, “Have a wagon hitched up. Transfer one of those Gatling guns over to it, and fill all the magazines."

Jerry looked at him.

“And some dynamite and caps, too,” Frank added.

“Sounds like you're about to declare war, Frank."

“I am, Jer. For a fact."

Jerry left the office at a run, and Frank began putting together some gear. He was filling the empty loops in his ammo belt with .44-.40 cartridges when Mayor Jenkins came in.

“Coffee over there on the stove, Mayor,” Frank told him. “It's fresh and hot. Help yourself."

“Good.” Jenkins reached into his suit coat and pulled out some papers. “While I'm doing that, you sign these where I've put an X."

“What am I signing?"

“Some very important papers.” He pushed a pen and inkwell across the desk. “Sign them and date them."

Frank scrawled his name, looked at the calendar and printed in the date, then pushed the papers away.

“I just spoke with Dr. Bracken, Frank. There is no change in Mrs. Browning's condition."

“I know."

“Doc Bracken is worried about Conrad. The boy is very shaky."

“He's learning that death is a part of living, Mayor. The kid is tougher than most people think. He'll be all right."

“I know you're about to do something. You want me to put a posse together, Frank?"

“No. This is something I have to handle myself. There has been enough loss of innocent life this day."

“One man against two large gangs?"

“If I decide I need help, Mayor, I'll send word back. What I would like for you to do is officially deputize some of those men I had guarding the prisoners earlier. They can take care of the town. I want Jerry with me at the blockade."

“I'll do that immediately."

“Thank you."

“Be careful, Frank."

“I won't promise that, Mayor."

Jenkins smiled his understanding, nodded his head, and picked up the papers. “I'll send over your copies in a few days. I want to have these recorded."

Frank finished filling the loops in both gunbelts, .44-.40 and .45, then filled up a large canteen with fresh water. Jerry walked in about the time he was finished.

“Got the Gatlin' gun loaded, Frank. Several cases of filled-up magazines."

“Dynamite?"

“Enough to blow up a mountain. You ever handled dynamite?"

“Plenty of times. One more thing: go over to Angie's and tell her to fix us some sandwiches to take with us."

“On my way."

Frank stowed his rifle and canteen in the wagon outside the office and looked over the team: good, powerfully built horses. Doc Bracken walked up. Frank guessed the doctor was taking a much needed break from his patients.