Chapter Nine.
"Lot 'o tracks on the road. I'd say, seven, probably eight. Matches them folks from yesterday alright. Travellin' all together. Straight towards Mrs. Roth's too. I'd say we got ourselves abunch oftrouble."
Vin was off his horse, looking at markings in the dusty road. The others were grouped about him, peering down. Chris' face was grim, eyes set narrowly on the horizon, shaded by the low brim of his hat.
Vin, crouched on the ground, rifle in hand, pushed up his hat, and looked over at their leader.
"How long?" Chris asked shortly. Vin looked briefly at the tracks once more,
"Not long, couple of hours?"
Chris nodded, never breaking his gaze.
The sound of a soft rustling in the bushes caught their attention, and all heads snapped round at once, guns drawn. Buck slid from his horse, as did Nathan, and along with Vin, the three formed a pincer movement around the undergrowth. As Vin went round behind the bush, something broke out from the cover, and ran straight into Buck, screaming as it collided with him and fell over backwards.
"What the – Hannah!"
Hannah looked up, clearly relieved at hearing Buck's voice, and on seeing thelook inher eyes, Buck suddenly realised that he was pointing a gun at her, and fumbled to put it away. Following Chris' lead, Josiah and JD climbed down off their horses, and the men grouped about the young girl, who Buck lifted gently to her feet,
"We been mighty worried about you little one," he said softly. Vin crouched beside her,
"What are you doing out here all alone?" he eyed her steadily, and she blushed, and looked down,
"Ezra told me to find you," her face fell at the mention of the gambler's name, and her voice dropped to a whisper, "Bad men in the house,"
The men exchanged looks, and Chris came forward, and bent to her level,
"Is Ezra in the house with the bad men?"
Hannah nodded, her little face serious.
"Is he alright?"
Hannah paused, thinking about the question,
"He fell down," she said sadly. Oblivious to her, the six men exchanged worried looks. Chris swallowed,
"Did he get up again?"
Hannah nodded, and a collective sigh of relief went round the group,
"Yes. But his head hurt," she pointed to her temple, "He put me out the window."
"Does anyone know you're gone child?" Josiah was the next to venture a question. Hannah nodded again,
"Auntie Grace knows, Ezra knows..."
"What about the men in your aunt's house?" this from Buck. A vigorous nod from Hannah,
"Oh yes, they shouted for me to come out, but I not come out for them. Ezra said not to."
Chris nodded, more to himself than in acknowledgement of Hannah's revelations.
"Is your aunt safe child?" Josiah again. Hannah gave two big nods,
"She's sleeping. When mummy left, she fell and went to sleep. She waked up, but Ezra made her pretend again. They're playin' a game."
"And then you escaped through the window?" Vin was trying to piece things together. Hannah nodded once more and Vin stood up and joined Chris.
Josiah took Hannah's hand with a smile as the others moved off into a circle,
"Here little one, let me show you my horse,"
Surrounded by the others, Chris summed up the situation, sounding grave,
"He made sure that the gang thought Mrs. Roth wasno threat, and thenmade Hannah escape through the window, and you know that they won't be happy about it,"
Buck's face hardened,
"He's laying it all on him."
Vin sighed,
"They'll kill him,"
Nathan shook his head,
"That's damn sure, look what they did to you," he nodded at Chris.
"Well," Chris continued, "We get in as soon as possible. They're waiting for Mrs. Moore to return, so they'll be someone waiting along the road for her. With any luck, the others will be looking for Hannah. Some will be inside..." he stopped, he didn't go into what they might be doing. He nodded grimly, "So, we get a vantage point..."
Buck grinned,
"And rain down hell on them!"
Josiah, who had joined the group, nodded.
Behind them, a little voice broke out, in confusion,
"What's a memto?"
Everyone turned to look at her. She was sitting on top of Josiah's horse, holding the reigns tightly, wearing his hat, which was pushed right back, and still nearly covering her eyes.
"A memto?" asked Buck with a frown,
Hannah nodded.
"The grey man said he'd leave a memto of me for mummy,"
They stared at her appalled, a collective shudder passing through them.
Chris turned to back to the group,
"JD, take Hannah back to town,"
JD drooped,
"Aw, come on Chris! Why do I have to do it! I wanna get them guys too!"
Chris was in no mood for arguments,
"Take her JD,"
Buck turned to him sympathetically,
"Faster you leave, faster you can get back to us," he sang at him quietly. JD twigged quickly.
"Come on Hannah, leave Josiah's hat."
Chris turned to look at the horizon again, eyes narrowing.
"Everyone else, mount up."
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"That wasn't very clever was it now Mr. Standish?"
Ezra was knelt on the ground of the front room, arms behind his head, an extremely enthusiastic Luke and his brother, training their guns on him. McKale was pacing round him like a caged tiger, turning back and forth restlessly.
"You see now, the little girl was an important factor in drawing her mother back here. Rest assured, that when we find them both, their ends will be somewhat more painful than I had intended, and that will all be down to you. I hope your conscience can handle that,"
Ezra kept his eyes to the ground,
"What if, by some extraordinary stroke of misfortune, you do not find the girl," He asked,
McKale smiled,
"If that is the case, and she is instead reunited with her mother. Mrs. Moore will have no real cause to come back here, which puts you at a bit of a disadvantage, because it means that I will have to direct my rage at someone else, more, conveniently located, you might say."
"And then what? You keep on following her?" Ezra's heart was beating ten to the dozen, but he was focussed on stringing out the conversation for as long as he could, to give the others more time. He had very little intention of being beaten to death, or shot.
McKale continued to pace, although he slowed a little,
"Of course. When one of your own is murdered Mr. Standish, you do not let him go unpunished. As a lawman yourself, I'm sure you understand that."
Ezra frowned in confusion,
"Indeed I do, but surely, Mr. Moore is already dead, why continue to punish him in death by pursuing his family?"
McKale stopped, and smiled down sickeningly sweetly at Ezra, suddenly amused,
"Oh I see. You think it was Mr. Moore who killed my son. Well, well, well. Since you are putting your life on the line to save the daughter, I suppose you are well with in your rights to know that it wasn't Mr. Moore who killed my Bill."
Ezra frowned again, mind racing,
"Not Mr. Moore?"
McKale laughed again, a rasping wheeze that came from that back of his throat. Luke joined in, snickering like a clueless child told a dirty joke. His father carried on,
"Come Mr. Standish, we blew that fool off his horse 'afore he'd let go of the reins. Think we'd be chasing a dead man?"
Ezra stayed quiet, his mind going through every possibility, he didn't want to believe what he knew was coming. His expression grew pained.
"Well, since you and Mrs. Moore seem to have become mighty close these last few days, I must admit I'm surprised she hasn't told you," he bent down low, to hiss in Ezra's ear, "You see, it was her who shot my boy. Murdered him, and ran. So, a life for a life, that's what they say." he grinned again, "Reckon you might not have got messed up in all of this knowing that. Very unfortunate business...for you."
Ezra's carefully thought out plan of stalling McKale, suddenly fell to pieces. He looked up, eyes fixed dangerously on McKale, hatred pouring out and he replied calmly, and venomously.
"You're wrong, 'sir,' I'd still be here. In fact I applaud her actions. However, I must say, were I her, I wouldn't have stopped at theremoval of just one of your repellent family members. I'd have taken down every single one of you."
McKale stared at him for a second. Eyes icy and narrowed. Incensed.
Ezra knew what was coming, and knew it wouldn't be pleasant, but he didn't regret a single word. His last thought before McKale's foot thudded into his chest, was that it seemed a shame not to die in his jacket and hat. Had he known he would die without them, he wouldn't have spent so much on them in the first place.
McKale's foot drove the wind straight out of him, and he bent over, hands coming from the back of his head to wrap protectively around his chest. Behind him, Luke was unleashed, and brought down his gun again, clipping Ezra around the side of the head and sending him sideways onto the floor, onto his bad arm again, which protested loudly at the repeated abuse.
As Ezra felt a wet sensation, trickling down by his ear, threading through his hair, he braced himself for Luke's next assault, which was a vicious kick to the stomach. McKale stood back, eyes watching him wildly, hair in disarray from the ferocity of his own strike.
Luke kicked him again, striking his bad arm, which exploded with pain, and made him cry out. Luke, much like his father, seemed wild, possessed even, and, worse, only just getting into his stride. He lashed out with his gun once more, catching Ezra across the back and sending him to the floor again.
Suddenly, there was a commotion from the bedroom, and an anguished cry. Everyone looked up. Luke's brother was grappling in the doorway with Mrs. Roth, who, no petite figure, was battling against him for all her worth,
"Leave him be! He's trying to protect us! He's trying to save us! You're killing him!"
McKale blinked at her, obliviously confused by her appearance, having no doubt forgotten about her.
"Shut up!" he roared at her from across the room. However this appeared to have no effect.
Meanwhile, Ezra, still sprawled on the floor, his head, back, chest and stomach all throbbing painfully, let his gaze fall on a small armchair before him. McKale had sat in it before, but Ezra hadn't really looked at it then, his gaze elsewhere. It was draped in some sort of blanket, and, hidden just underneath a corner of the blanket, was a metal pan. It had a few inches of water in it, and Ezra turned to look up at the ceiling figuring it had something to do with a leak. He smiled softly, inspiration, and some sense of salvation coming to him.
McKale stalked across the room, heading straight for Mrs. Roth. He pulled out his gun, and held it to her head.
"If you don't shut up and sit down, you're not going to be able to complain about anything anymore!"
She stopped at once, fixated by the gun, trembling. McKale grabbed her by the shawl, and dragged her across the room, throwing her into the blanket-covered chair,
"Now stay there and shut up!"
He turned to look at Ezra again, appearing amused once more,
"Well Mr. Standish, it appears that you are full of surprises. First you allow the girl to escape. Then you pretend that the dear lady here is unconscious. If I wasn't planning on killing you, I might try and recruit you."
Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Ezra smiled thinly,
"Flattered, I'm sure."
Ezra, getting used to McKale's mood swings, watched his smile fade fast. Facing him icily, McKale turned his gun, and pointed it at him, listening to the satisfying click. Mrs. Roth whimpered and drew herself up in the chair, as if having spotted a mouse, her eyes on the spectacle before her.
"But enough games now Mr. Standish. You and I are about to reach the end of our acquaintance. I grow weary of your impudence, and interference," slowly, he smiled once more, "Good bye Mr. Standish."
A gunshot rang out across the surrounding area, followed by a scream.
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Dum-dum-dum! Hee hee! Would I be evil enough to kill him? Well...
