I own no part of Laramie or it's characters, only those I create. No profit is made from this story. It is written only for the enjoyment of Laramie fans. I thank the network for creating such wonderful characters that live on far past the closure of the series.
Four to One Odds
by
Laramie Station
Jess stepped out of the mercantile store and stopped dead. Every horse hitched to the rail in front of the mercantile was gone; moved to a safe place out of the line of fire. His enemy, now standing before him, was obviously a lover of good horseflesh. By moving the horses he had very effectively removed every shred of concealing cover.
Without moving his head, Jess cast a quick look left and right in a frantic search for any type of cover. There was none. He lifted his hands in the age-old custom of showing he was unarmed. He hoped his enemy would honor the ancient code. Particularly since his enemy already had his weapon in hand.
His enemy nodded to a place on the ground.
Jess looked. There,thirty long, empty feet away, lay his weapon. All he had to do was make it across that vast expanse, grab it and return fire without getting hit. He cautiously stepped forward, arms still raised.
His enemy smiled with victorious anticipation. He knew he had Harper. Just let him get close to his weapon, then fire. As easy as that he would take the Texan down.
Jess took another slow step forward. A lunge over the hitch rail and a hard roll to his right might see him armed without being hit. He checked the street again and his eyes widened in surprise. A second adversary, brother to the first, had arrived to join the fray. Eyes narrowing, he coldly noted the odds dropping sharply he would make it without taking at least one hit before he could return fire.
Jess checked the street again and two more brothers were added to the enemy's battle line. Four to one odds. Not good. He knew in his heart there was no way he could reach his weapon without being blasted more than once.
He heard a door open to his left and knew without looking it was Slim stepping out of the bank and into the hopeless fray.
Calling a warning to Slim, he frantically lunged off the sidewalk. Planting his left boot on the hitch rail in a valiant attempt to gain as much distance as he could in a desperate vault to reach his weapon.
Jess took the first hit high on his left shoulder. Two more shots drove his left leg out from under him as he landed hard in the street; still hopelessly short of his goal. He dug in hard with his right foot and rose up in a final drive to reach his arms.
Reaching it he grabbed, turned and fired back while taking two more hard body shots. From the corner of his eye he grimaced as he watched Slim take two body shots while running hard to reach him. Desperately, Jess gave Slim as much covering fire as he could while his partner's long legs carried him to Jess' side. Landing on his knees beside Jess, Slim began returning fire in a vain but courageous effort to save his doomed pard. The four brothers took hit after hit but still, they kept up the vicious attack.
Jess staggered to his feet, refusing to go down despite the continued blows to his battered body. Slim surged to his feet beside Jess and they stood shoulder to shoulder; their ammunition nigh exhausted and waited for the villain's final rush.
Suddenly, Sheriff Mort Cory stepped out of his office and, as one, the six combatants turned in sudden alliance and sent their last volley of ammunition at the unsuspecting sheriff.
Mort turned from shutting his office door just in time to greet a near blizzard of snowballs.
"Jess Harper! Slim Sherman! Have you no respect for the law in this town? What are you trying to do? Lead these young hooligans to life of crime," roared Mort, emerging from the blinding snowfall.
Slim and Jess, along with the 'hooligans', were laughing too hard to make a denial.
"Sorry, Mort, you were just too good a target to pass up," chuckled Jess.
"You'll think different if I park your behind in a cell," laughed Mort as he continued to clear the snow from his hat and coat.
Slim smiled and suggested, "How about some hot coffee for us and hot chocolate for the 'hooligans' as a peace-offering? Jess and I are buying."
"Add some hot apple pie to that offer and you've got a deal," laughed Mort as he dumped a handful snow down the necks of his two favorite victims.
"Come on kids, Sherman's buying," chortled Mort as he headed for the cafe at dead run. Slim and Jess in hot pursuit.