Backup Plans

With the sun barely up, Wheat Carlson knocked on the door of the leader's cabin. He waited. When there was no response, he rapped again, harder this time. Still, no response.

Hmm, what to do? Heyes always said to have a backup plan. Wheat thought a minute, then drew the pistol from his holster, pointed it skyward, and pulled the trigger. Three loud shots in succession split the stillness. Stepping back from the door, he counted under his breath, "One, two, three, four …"

Of a sudden the door opened and Kid Curry rushed onto the porch, Colt at the ready. Barefoot and dressed in henley and long johns, he dove behind a barrel on the porch, and noticing Carlson, yelled, "Wheat, take cover!" He craned his neck at the open spaces in all directions of the cabin without breaking cover.

After a moment, Hannibal Heyes appeared at a window, Schofield drawn. "Nothing out back, Kid. See anything out front?"

"Nope, but the shootin's stopped." Curry glanced again at Carlson, who had not moved. "Wheat, I told ya to take cover. In case you didn't notice, some blasted fool is shootin' at us."

Wheat snickered. "Pfft. Ya can put them guns away, fellas. I was doin' the shootin'."

Heyes appeared on the porch, also in his underwear. "What? Why? Doggone it, Wheat, it's barely sun-up! That poker game just ended a few hours ago!"

Wheat puffed his chest. "It was my backup plan when you didn't answer the door. Ya always say to have one."

Curry rolled his eyes and walked back inside.

Wheat looked confused. "Where ya goin'?"

Kid stopped just long enough to say, "My backup plan is to go back to bed. I'm a little short on sleep." He disappeared into the cabin.

Heyes watched his partner go before looking at Wheat. "Really, Wheat? A backup plan? Because somebody didn't answer the door right away at six in the morning?" Heyes shook his head in confusion, then continued, getting louder as he went. "You need a backup plan if something goes wrong with the main plan, like where to meet up if we have to separate, like who carries the haul. NOT for waking people up in the middle of the night if it's not an emergency!" Heyes was shouting now. "What the hell is so damn important it couldn't wait til later?!"

Kid yelled from inside, "Heyes, I'm tryin' to sleep!"

Heyes shook his head in disgust. "This isn't the best way to start the day now, is it?"

Wheat smirked. "Nope."

The outlaw leader took a breath and sighed to calm himself. He rubbed his brow. "Okay, then, what's the emergency? Like Kid said, we're short on sleep."

"No emergency."

Heyes grew apoplectic. "Then why?"

"Just wanted to let ya know Kyle's gonna test the new dynamite in a few minutes and wanted to warn ya so ya weren't woke up all sudden-like." He noticed the growing deep red color on the face of Hannibal Heyes. "Heyes, if'n ya don't calm down, you're gonna have a stroke."

Heyes breathed and calmed himself once more, though the red face remained. He spoke slowly, emphasizing words to make a point. "So, you wanted to let us know so we weren't woke up too suddenly …"

Wheat smiled. "Uh huh. Time's runnin' short."

Heyes repeated, "Time's running short."

"Uh huh, that's what I said."

The outlaw leader paused a moment to take in the surrealness before continuing. "Are you sure your name is Wheat and not Kyle?"

"Yup." Finally, Wheat frowned. "Why ya askin'? Somethin' wrong, Heyes?"

Heyes raised an eyebrow before yawning. "Nope. Everything's just dandy." He turned and started back inside.

KA-BOOM!

Heyes stopped. He looked in the direction of the blast and yawned again. "Guess it works."

Again Wheat stood with chest puffed. "Yup. See, now ya weren't woken up all sudden-like."

"Thanks, Kyle."

Carlson stood dumbfounded. "Nope, I'm Wheat, remember?" He scratched his head. "Ya really should get some sleep, Heyes."