The Sunshine Killers (16 page)

They continued firing steadily at Saulter, but it was futile. He was well hidden down below his horse's body. He could hear the shells plunking into the carcass. He looked over at Letty. He was reloaded and ready. She had worked herself deeper into the snow. “Listen! When I fire you break back for the house. It's only about ten yards. And you get in there and stay there!”

She nodded.

He aimed in a pause in the firing, and put a bullet through what remained of the sash. As he fired Letty jumped up and ran. McGraw looked up just in time to see her disappear behind the house. He tried a wild shot, but it was wide. Then he dropped down as Saulter fired again.

“That bitch!” he swore. “Oh, that bitch! I'll fix her if it's the last thing I do.”

Then there was a lull while both parties watched to see what the other would do. Saulter could see Billy laying on the porch up against the wall. He assumed he was dead. He lay there, his rifle at the ready, looking for movement. He'd almost been suckered and he wasn't going to let that happen again.

In the saloon, Schmidt was swearing steadily. The gunman was mumbling something. McGraw turned on him harshly. “What? What are you saying?”

“I'm just counting,” the man answered sullenly. “Billy makes seven. Seven he's kilt. You tell me what our chances are. I say we get out of here.”

“Shut up,” McGraw told him viciously. “We go when I say.”

“Listen, them horses is still out back. He's afoot now. We could take them and get clean out of the country before he could even make a start after us.”

“That man dies!” McGraw screamed at him. “I'll kill him and that bitch if it's the last thing I do! And you'll help me.”

The man said, “I don't know about that, Mister McGraw. This job don't look so good now. I'd say we're out of business.”

“Look here,” McGraw said, peering over the windowsill. He made his voice quieter. “I believe we've got him now. He is afoot. He can't move around. We'll come at him from two sides. His dead horse will only protect him from one side. We have to get him. That rifle of his is just a single shot.”

“He don't shoot it like it is.”

“You take a horse and circle way behind him. I'll come from this side. If we keep our range we've got to get him.”

The gunman was pensive, thinking. “That might work,” he said.

“It has to. You get way around behind him. I'll come out the front door and charge him from this side. I think I can make it to the corner of the women's house. At my signal you charge. When he gets on this side of his horse I'll have a clear shot at him.”

“Okay,” the man said, getting up. He looked at McGraw. “But you be damn sure you do your part. You leave me charging down on him and I'm done for.”

“Don't worry,” McGraw said. “We get this man and you can have the other boys' payday.”

“Don't forget that,” the man said. He scuttled quickly across the floor and out the back door.

Up on the knoll Saulter watched. Reaching in a pocket he located the stump of a cigar. He stuck it in his mouth, found a match, and lit up, all without taking his eyes off the front of the saloon, Through a wreath of blue smoke he saw the gunman riding out, circling backwards to stay out of range.

He reached up and touched his horse's mane. It had been a good horse, his buffalo horse. No sounds came, but his lips formed the word “bastards.”

McGraw had gone to the open door. Through the swirling snow he hazarded quick peeks around the jamb, watching Saulter and watching the progress of the rider.

Saulter too was watching the man, his head turning on a slow swivel. When the rider was finally behind, opposite the saloon, he stopped and waved his rifle over his head. Saulter glanced quickly toward the saloon. He could just see McGraw peeking out the door.

McGraw stuck his head out, yelled, “Now!” and fired his rifle as a signal.

The rider suddenly put spurs to his mount and, whooping and yelling, started the long charge down on the hunter. Saulter glanced quickly back toward the saloon, saw that McGraw was still inside, then deliberately came to one knee. He quickly fumbled two shells out of his satchel and put them in his mouth. He understood what they were going to try and do and it could get very tight, but he didn't think McGraw was much of a shot and he knew the man on the horse was going to have to pull up and stop before he could get off very accurate fire.

He glanced back and saw McGraw edging around the door. As he looked McGraw threw up his rifle and fired a couple of ineffective shots. He swiveled his head back to Jackhammer, still charging. The gunman was firing, but the shots were more for show than anything else. One whined into the snow near Saulter's knee, but he paid it no mind. He watched the man, calculating the distance, his mind still on McGraw behind him.

Jackhammer too was calculating the distance and beginning to realize he was getting awfully close with no support. He yelled, “McGraw! McGraw!”

Almost as if it had been his cue, Saulter whirled at the words and threw up his rifle. He caught McGraw starting out the door. It was a snap shot, but it chipped splinters off the doorjamb and sent McGraw tumbling back inside. Now knowing he had to work rapidly, Saulter broke his rifle down, flipped out the spent hull, and rammed home a fresh cartridge. He snapped the rifle together and brought it to his shoulder. Jackhammer was only fifty yards away and suddenly aware of his danger. He sawed backwards on the reins, trying to bring his plunging horse to a stop in the loose snow. By the time he was able to turn the animal he was only thirty yards away. He rode away, spurring and quirting the floundering animal while Saulter took a leisurely sight in the middle of his back. The impact of the big shell at that range knocked the man completely over his horse's head.

Saulter quickly reloaded and turned to face the saloon. But he was too late. It was the moment McGraw had planned for. He had never really intended to back up Jackhammer, but to use the situation for a diversion that would allow him to break for the women's house. He knew that once he had Letty, he had Saulter. And he wanted her almost as much as he wanted the big hunter. He was in a rage as he dashed across the open space. His men were dead, his big job was blown, and his quarter of a million dollars was gone. He ran low, sprinting hard.

It took an instant for Saulter to pick up his flying figure.

Then there was only time for a quick shot. He fired, but he knew it was futile even as the stock slammed back against his shoulder. McGraw disappeared behind the angle of the building.

“Goddammit!” he said, getting to his feet. He grabbed up his satchel of shells and began running away from the women's house, quartering up on the side of the saloon.

McGraw made the porch in one jump. He didn't bother with the door knob, but instead fired two shots into the latch and then kicked it open. He stood there for half a second grinning at the women and then kicked the door to behind him. “Now,” he said to Letty, “we'll see about things. Won't we, Miss Letty?” The women stood there in the half gloom of the room looking fearful. There was such rage on his face they didn't know what he might do. But he said, “All in good time.”

Then moving quickly, he raced across to a side window and hammered out the glass with his rifle butt. In a look he saw that Saulter was no longer behind his horse.

“Goddammit!” he swore.

But then he turned and looked at the women and smiled. “But I've got him just the same, haven't I, Letty?” He looked at her. “He's a gentleman, isn't he, Letty? You ought to know about that. He won't desert you here with me. Because he knows what I intend to do to you. And when he comes to your rescue, then I'll have him.” He raised his rifle. “You're all the bait I'll need. The rest of you ladies get on the other side of the room and stay in a group. Stay clear of Miss Letty. She's poison. She's contagious. You don't none of you want to catch what she's going to get.”

Saulter came cautiously around the back of the saloon. There were no windows in the back so he had to wait until he got to the door to look inside. At the opening he listened for a moment and then took off his hat and slid an eye just past the sill. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the darkness of the room, but he saw that the place was empty. He stepped quickly around the sill and went cautiously into the room, his rifle at the ready. Just inside he stopped. He saw William laying behind the end of the bar and the dead man in the middle of the room and the one by the wall. He took another step and heard something to his right. He whirled. It was Schmidt, rising from behind the bar, his hands over his head. “Don't shoot!” he screamed. “For god's sake, don't shoot!”

Saulter covered him with the rifle. “Get out,” he said.

Schmidt looked uncomprehending. “Get out?”

“Yes, I don't want you at my back.”

“But I ain't with them.”

“Get out,” Saulter repeated calmly. “Or I'll blow a hole in you.”

Schmidt understood. He scuttled out from behind the bar and out the door. Just as he exited Saulter stopped him. “Where's that boy? That half-breed?

Schmidt pointed out the door. “Maybe dead. That one”—he motioned toward the dead body of William—“shot him.”

“All right. Get out.”

Saulter went to the door and watched Schmidt trudge across the snow and disappear into the bunkhouse. Then he stepped out the door, glanced cautiously all around, and went over to the horses that were still tied at the back. With hand and eye he carefully examined each. Finally he selected one, moved it away from the others, and tied it. The snow was starting to fall again and the horses were stamping and moving around from the cold.

A horse seen to, Saulter went back in the saloon. He stopped at the bar to pick up a bottle of whiskey, pulled the cork as he walked, and then knelt down by the window. He took a long pull of the whiskey, shuddered, and then looked cautiously toward the women's house. All was quiet. He set the bottle down, shifted his rifle to a position on the window ledge, and settled down. He knew McGraw was in the women's house; knew that he, Saulter, had control of all the horses; knew McGraw was not going to start anywhere on foot. He also knew that McGraw had Letty and that there was nothing to do but wait. The next move was up to McGraw.

It was not long in coming. From behind a window at the front of the women's house, McGraw called, “Saulter! Saulter!”

Saulter raised his head cautiously, half sighting down his rifle barrel. Finally he yelled out, “Speak up! I hear you!”

“Come out with your hands up! Now!” McGraw said.

Saulter didn't bother to answer.

“You hear me?”

Still Saulter was silent.

“Listen to me, Saulter. I got your girlfriend in here. I got a gun at her head. You walk out in that road or I'll blow her pretty face off.”

Saulter yelled back, “McGraw, you got one chance. Let those women alone and ride out of here. You come out now and I won't kill you.”

“Saulter! I'm not kidding you. I'll kill this woman if you don't do as I say.”

“You touch her and I'll kill you twenty different ways.”

“Your last chance, Saulter. I'll give you one minute to think it over.”

“Last time I thought something over it cost you every man you had. This time it'll be your turn.”

Inside the women's house McGraw was standing with Letty at a front window. He had her by the hair, half bent over, his pistol at her head. He had kicked the glass out of the window, but there was still a curtain over it, so that Saulter couldn't see them. But if he could he wouldn't have been able to fire for fear of hitting Letty. “You want her to beg you, Saulter?” McGraw yelled. “You want to hear from her?” He prodded Letty with the gun and shook her by the hair. “Sing, my little pigeon. Beg Mister Saulter.”

She gave him such a fierce struggle that he rapped her sharply on the side of the head with his pistol barrel. “Hold still, you bitch! Now tell Saulter to save your worthless neck!”

She yelled, made half breathless from the way McGraw had her doubled over, “Saulter! Kill the bastard! Kill him!” She got no further because McGraw slapped her. Saulter heard her scream. In a strong voice he called, “McGraw, I got all the horses. You can't get away unless I let you. It's coming on dark. Walk out now and I give you my word I'll let you go.” He sighted down the rifle barrel, trying to get a glimpse of McGraw, but the curtain made it impossible to see into the house.

“I got all the cards, Saulter,” McGraw yelled. “I swear I'll kill her!”

Saulter glanced anxiously toward the sun. Its lower rim was just touching the horizon. Dark was near, but it was long moments away.

Letty's voice suddenly broke out. “Don't do it, Saulter. He'll kill me anyway. He'll kill you and then kill me. Just kill—”

Her voice broke off in the sounds of a struggle.

“You coming, Saulter?” McGraw yelled.

Saulter glanced toward the sun again. Twilight was full upon the snow. “She doesn't mean anything to me. Kill her if you want. I'm riding out.”

“You're lying.”

“Watch me! I'm heading south.”

“This woman will be on your head.”

“Go to hell. I'm pulling out.” Saulter stood up and went to the door. “And I'm taking all the horses with me. You'll freeze to death before you can get out of here, McGraw.”

“You're bluffing, Saulter.”

“Watch me!”

“I'll carve her up! I'll slit her belly! I'll cut her like a sow.”