Drifter 1 Page 5

  “Do it and I’ll kill you,” Savage warned him, his voice full of menace.

  Ross froze and looked over his shoulder at the semi-naked man holding the gun on him.

  “This don’t concern you, stranger. The bitch was tryin’ to rob me and I’m just givin’ her what she deserves.”

  “I say she’s had enough. Leave her be.”

  “How about you mind your own damned business before you start somethin’ you can’t finish,” Ross threatened. “Now turn around and walk away.”

  With total disdain for the presence of the cocked six-gun, Ross made to lash Clementine once more. His fist started to fall but never landed.

  Savage squeezed the trigger. One shot was all it took and Ross lurched forward and fell in a heap on the floor, like a marionette with its strings cut.

  He waited a few moments to see if the man moved and when he didn’t, Savage stepped back out into the hall.

  “Thank you, Mister,” Lilly sobbed as she climbed to her feet. “Is he … ?”

  “He won’t be givin’ you anymore trouble,” Savage assured her.

  Without another word she hurried into the room to check on Clementine. She gasped loudly when she saw the state of her friend then rushed back out the door and spotted Esther. “Get Doc Martin. Quick.”

  Esther ran off and a short time later a commotion sounded from the stairs. Savage was about to step back inside his room when a large man with gray hair and a badge pinned to his chest appeared.

  “What in tarnation is goin’ on here?” Miller’s irritation was etched all over his face. Then he saw West’s body on the floor. “Aww, Hell no.”

  He shifted his gaze to Savage. “You, start talkin’.”

  “A feller in that room there,” Savage pointed to the open door, “was beatin’ up on one of the girls. He shot West who tried to stop him.”

  “And then what?” Miller snapped.

  “He wouldn’t stop so I shot him.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yeah,” Savage nodded. “Just like that.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Savage.”

  “Wait here, Savage,” Miller ordered and walked past West’s corpse and into the room where Lilly was tending to Clementine.

  There was movement behind Savage and the doctor brushed past him followed by Esther. They were about to enter the room when Miller emerged and said in a low voice, “Ain’t no hurry Seth, she’s dead.”

  A low keening sound came from the room as Lilly broke down and Esther hurried in to comfort her while Martin bent and double-checked West.

  Miller came back to Savage and said, “Come by my office later. I may have a few more questions for you.”

  “OK,” Savage agreed. “I had plans on comin’ to see you anyways.”

  Miller cocked an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “I’m lookin’ for a feller I was told is in town,” he explained. “His name is Clint Ross.”

  There was something in Miller’s expression that changed and he inquired, “Have you ever seen this Ross before?”

  “Nope.”

  Miller snorted. “Well if that don’t beat all. That feller in there just happens to be the one you’re lookin’ for. His name was Clint Ross.”

  Six

  SAVAGE FELT HIS blood run cold at the mention of Ross’ name. Sure, he’d got what was coming to him but Savage had questions that needed answers; and he’d wanted him to know the name of the man who was going to kill him, and why.

  “What about the feller he came to town with?” Savage asked, trying to keep his emotions in check.

  “Cody? I ain’t seen him for a day or so, but he’ll be around.”

  Another name on the list.

  “What did you want Ross for anyhow?” Miller inquired.

  “I had a couple of questions for him,” Savage told the sheriff. “Guess it don’t much matter now.”

  Miller shook his head. “I knew these fellers were goin’ to be trouble. My advice to you Savage, leave town as soon as you can. Or maybe you’ll be havin’ trouble with Ross’ pard.”

  Then Miller noticed his pants. “Or them Yankee blues you’re wearin’ will buy you some.”

  “War’s over Sheriff,” Savage said pointedly. “Or ain’t you noticed?”

  “It may well be, Savage but folks around here have long memories.”

  “Yeah, well, they’ll just have to get over it, won’t they?”

  “Fair enough, but what about Cody?”

  “Tell him where to find me,” Savage snapped. “I’ll be downstairs sittin’ at a table waitin’ for him.”

  With that, he turned and stalked back into his room.

  ~*~

  Savage got no more sleep that night. He sat on his bed and waited for morning as he mulled over his options. He thought about the war, about Carver, and about Amy.

  When the orange fingers of the new day reached out across the sky, Savage rose from his bed and dressed, his belly a knot of emotion at the anticipation of facing one of his wife’s killers. The last thing to go on was the gunbelt with the Remington in the holster.

  Once downstairs, Savage had his pick of the tables because all were vacant. He doubted somehow that the Golden Garter would even open today due to the untimely demise of its owner. So he took a pack of cards off the bar and sat down at a table in the center of the room facing the door.

  Next, he took the Remington from its holster and lay it on the tabletop. Then he waited.

  Savage wiled away the time playing solitaire. There were some noises from upstairs but two hours passed before a woman’s voice said, “You know the saloon ain’t goin’ to open today, don’t you Cowboy?”

  Savage looked up and saw the woman who’d begged him for his help, standing on the stairs. “I ain’t here for a drink. I’m waitin’ to see a man.”

  Lilly descended the rest of the way and walked gracefully across to the bar. She wore a floor-length green dress that covered her ample chest. Her pale white arm reached over and grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

  She carried them to the table where Savage sat and placed them in the center. She pulled back a chair and joined him. Her delicate hands with brightly painted fingernails popped the cork on the bottle and poured out two drinks. She pushed one over in front of Savage.

  Lilly picked hers up and said, “Here’s to Ernie.”

  She tossed the liquid back and didn’t bat an eyelid.

  Savage picked his up and did the same.

  “You want another, Cowboy?”

  Savage shook his head. “One will be fine. And it’s Savage.”

  “I’m Lilly,” she told him. “By the way, Savage, I didn’t get the chance to thank you for tryin’ to help Clementine.”

  He studied her for a brief moment and came to the conclusion that she was quite pretty. However, if she spent much more time in her line of work, that would certainly change and it wouldn’t matter how well her long black hair framed her face.

  Savage remained silent.

  “Who are you waitin’ for?” Lilly inquired.

  “Cody.”

  Lilly was mortified. “Ross’ friend? Why?”

  “I need to ask him some questions.”

  “But he’ll more than likely try to kill you for shootin’ his friend,” she pointed out.

  Their conversation was interrupted as someone hammered on the door loud enough to make Lilly start, then a voice called out, “Open up damn it.”

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” Savage surmised.

  Savage looked over at the whore, “Let him in and take a few steps back. Make sure you stay out of the way.”

  Lilly got up and walked slowly to the door. She went to open it and hesitated.

  “It’s OK,” Savage assured her. “Open it and step back.”

  Lilly nodded and did as she was asked.

  Cody barged in and stopped short when he saw Savage.

  “Are you the son of a bi
tch who shot Ross?” he snarled.

  With his right hand resting on the Remington, Savage said, “I am.”

  Cody’s blue eyes blazed. “Then it’s time you met the same fate.”

  “Hold it, Cody,” came Sheriff Miller’s voice from the doorway.

  Cody whirled. “You stay the hell out of this lawman,” Cody warned and turned back to face Savage.

  “Before you go for that gun of yours I want to ask you somethin’,” Savage said. “Have you been to Summerton lately?”

  The outlaw’s eyes widened and his hand slashed down for his six-gun. Savage had the advantage as the Remington was already cocked and in his hand, and had only to pull the trigger.

  The .44 slug hit Cody in his gun arm halfway between shoulder and elbow and smashed the bone. The outlaw dropped his gun at his feet and cried out with pain.

  The hammer ratcheted back as Savage cocked the Remington again. He sighted on Cody’s left leg and squeezed the trigger. Thunder rocked the room and a bright red blossom appeared on the outlaw’s thigh.

  Cody screamed with pain and collapsed to the floor. Savage stood up and slowly crossed to where the outlaw squirmed in pain.

  Cody looked up at the figure who towered over him and said through gritted teeth, “What now?”

  “I want to know where Carver was goin’?” Savage asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  The hammer on the Remington went back with a loud triple-click.

  “Just hold on a damned minute, Savage,” Miller protested. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

  “Ever heard of John Carver, Miller?” Savage asked the sheriff.

  “Sure,” he said, nodding.

  “Well Ross and this hombre here are part, or were part of his gang,” Savage explained, his voice growing harsh. “A while back, Carver hit a small town called Summerton and cleaned out the bank.”

  “I heard somethin’ along those lines,” Miller allowed.

  “There was a bloody shootout in the main street and some good people died,” Savage continued. “When they left town they took a young woman with them. She just happened to be my wife. I found her body myself. What they did to her before they damn well killed her was inhumane.”

  Lilly’s hand flew to her mouth in horror at the mental imagery. “Oh, lord.”

  “I found out Ross was comin’ here and as luck would have it, albeit bad, I happened to shoot him last night before I found out who he was or could ask him some questions. But now I have Cody and he’s able to talk.”

  “This ain’t the way, Savage,” Miller said.

  “Wrong Miller. It’s the only way. You can have him after I’ve finished.”

  “Son … ?”

  “They raped and murdered my wife,” Savage spat venomously. “And right now I want to know where the rest of them are. So don’t get in my way.”

  Miller saw the look in Savage’s eyes and knew the only way to stop him would be to shoot him. And he didn’t want to do that, especially if what he said was true.

  “Why isn’t Matt Bryson trailin’ ’em?” Miller asked.

  “You know him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s dead. They killed him.”

  Savage turned back to Cody. “Where was Carver goin’?”

  Cody looked at him defiantly. “You ain’t goin’ to shoot me. Not with the law standin’ there watchin’ you.”

  The Remington roared and blood spouted from the outlaw’s right knee. Cody screamed as he writhed on the floor.

  “Answer me God damn it!” Savage roared.

  Cody glanced at Miller, his eyes pleading for the lawman to intervene. “Help me, please. He’s crazy. I …”

  The outlaw’s voice trailed away when Miller turned away and started towards the stairs.

  “Let me know when you’re done,” he said to Savage. “Come on Lilly, you don’t need to see this.”

  That was all it took for the outlaw to breakdown. Within minutes Savage found out that the others had scattered.

  Duane Brooks was headed for a mining town called Silver Ridge in the Big bend Country. Chase Hunter was going to Presidio where his father had a ranch. Carver, Thomas, and Cooper were aiming for New Mexico.

  “What about Anderson White?” Savage asked Cody.

  “He’s dead,” Cody told him. “He picked up a bullet when we hit the bank. The blood poisonin’ killed him.”

  Savage stared at Cody with cold, emotionless eyes. “Did you take your turn?”

  “What?”

  “Did you take your turn with my wife?”

  “Hell no,” Cody answered, eyes wide with panic. “I didn’t touch your wife.”

  “But you didn’t stop them either, did you?” Savage shot back.

  The outlaw’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

  “Pick up your gun,” Savage told him in a low voice.

  “What? No?”

  “Pick it up. It’s the only chance you’ll get,” Savage warned him. “I’m goin’ to shoot you whether you pick it up or not. The choice is yours.”

  “But that’s not fair,” Cody whined.

  Savage bristled. “And do you think it was fair that my wife was so brutally taken away from me? You have until I count three.”

  “But …”

  “One.”

  “… You …”

  “Two.”

  Cody’s panicked expression changed into that of a cornered animal. A snarling, snapping beast with nowhere to go. Then he lunged for his six-gun.

  No sooner had Cody’s fingers wrapped around the gun-butt, when Savage’s Remington roared, its .44 caliber slug smashed into the outlaw’s head and out the back, blood and bone sprayed across the floor.

  Smoke drifted from the six-gun’s barrel in thin tendrils. Savage holstered it and looked to the top of the stairs where Miller stood gazing down upon the killer and the corpse.

  “You got a problem with that?”

  Miller shook his head. “Nope. He went for his gun. I saw it all.”

  Savage looked down at Cody’s body and cursed inwardly. He thought he was done with killing after the war. Since the war had finished, he’d killed five men and knew that there was more to come.

  “I need a drink,” he said hoarsely and walked towards the bar.

  ~*~

  When Savage awoke the following morning, his head felt as though a hard-rock miner was on the inside trying to hammer his way out with a pick. He moaned involuntarily as he glanced at the bright sunshine that streamed in through a crack in the curtain. His mouth was dry, as though full of hot desert sands.

  He should have damn well left the day before. However, the drinking had helped ease the pain, helped him to forget, albeit briefly. He swung his legs over the bed and sat up, disturbing the woman in the bed beside him.

  Savage glanced back at the still sleeping Lilly. The sheet had slipped down and exposed her top half. Her dark hair was mussed and straggled down over the milky white skin of her bare shoulders and large breasts. He reached over and pulled the sheet back up.

  He cursed his weakness for sleeping with her, his momentary lapse in judgment, but the time spent in her arms had been another way to forget the horror of the past ten days or so.

  He stood up and walked quietly over to his clothes draped over the chair, and dressed.

  “Tryin’ to sneak out on me Cowboy?” asked Lilly’s drowsy voice as he strapped on his gun belt.

  He turned to face the bed and saw her propped up on an elbow looking at him.

  “I … I …” he stammered.

  “It’s alright,” she said trying to ease his mind. “We both got what we needed from it.”

  Savage felt embarrassed and dug into his pants pocket for some money to give her.

  “Don’t you dare think about paying me,” she said indignantly.

  He stuffed the money back into his pocket. “Sorry.”

  Savage looked at himself in the mirror as he put his hat on. Still unsha
ven, the growth had transformed into a dark beard. A changed look for a changed man.

  He glanced one final time at Lilly and said, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Maybe, Cowboy. Maybe.”

  He shut the door gently as he left the room.

  Seven

  IT WAS A HARSH, baked part of Texas. A landscape of jagged, rocky peaks surrounded by great expanses of rugged desert with creosote, yucca, mesquite, and other hardy plants adapted to the conditions.

  It was also a landscape of hidden dangers. Mexican bandits, outlaws, and Mescalero Apaches roamed freely, killing and looting.

  Savage was two weeks out of Buckley and half a day from Silver Ridge when he came across an upturned stage.

  It was on its side just off the trail. The first sign of something wrong was the circling buzzards high in the sky, gradually getting lower in lazy spirals.

  Savage stopped the bay in the center of the trail and leaned down to take the Winchester from its scabbard. He levered a round into the breech automatically while alert eyes scanned the immediate area for any sign of trouble.

  Beneath him, the horse shifted nervously, sensing the tension in its rider’s body.

  Earlier in the day, Savage had seen a smudge of dust to the west. A number of years before the war, even before he’d settled down, he’d worked with a freight company who’d shipped through this part of Texas. The outfit had tangled with Apaches on more than one occasion so he knew that dust rising from that direction could mean but one thing, trouble.

  He pulled off the trail and into a deep dry wash. After he dismounted, he took the Winchester and crawled back up the embankment to wait in the baking sun. Even the lizards were hiding from it.

  Almost thirty minutes later, a handful of Mescalero Apache appeared and started riding parallel with the trail. His caution had paid off.

  He waited another half hour to make sure they were gone and led the horse back up onto the trail. The problem now was that they were headed in the same direction.

  When he came across the ghastly scene, the six-up stage team was all down but still in harness. The stage was tipped on its side and the driver and guard lay in the middle of the road. Both had been shot full of arrows and scalped.