[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
she was alone in the barn with the trussed-up Macklin. Hurriedly, she cracked open the revolver's cylinder, which now
held only a single round and three empty casings . She emptied the spent brass on the floor, then thumbed in four
more cartridges snatched from the handful loose in her pocket. The cowboys might be back at any moment, and she
was badly outnumbered and outgunned. The one called Ike had dropped a knife on the floor in the confusion.
Stooping, she scooped it up, cut through the rope binding Macklin's ankles to the ladder, then reached high and cut
the rope on his wrists. Macklin collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. "Who ... are you?" Macklin asked
through bloodied lips. Doris felt a pang of hurt and fear slash through her. Doe Shea had said he'd lost his memory. If
he didn't even remember her ...
"Never mind that now," she told him, struggling to keep her voice crisp and businesslike. "We've got to get you out of
here. Those ... people might be back any minute now, and I don't want to be here when they come! Think you can
walk?" Macklin looked like he was in pretty bad shape. There was a nasty gash on the right side of his head where one
of the cowboys had clubbed him, and it looked as though they'd worked him over with their fists pretty well both
before they'd tied him up and after. With her help, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Think ... so," he
murmured. "Can ... can you help me up?" It took all her strength to get him on his feet, and he had to use the ladder to
help pull himself up, but somehow they managed. He took a tottering step or two toward the barn door. She stepped in
close, put her arm around his back, and let him lean on her. Together, they began making their way toward the
sunlight. "Hank ... Attwater," Macklin said, the name slurred. "Dangerous. .." "I shot him," Doris said, wondering. "I
shot him twice. I know I didn't miss! What the hell is he?" But she was pretty sure that she knew the answer to that
question already.
OUT BEHIND THE BARN, THE SIX COWBOYS TOOK STOCK OF their situation. All but Hank had their guns out
now, and they were looking back at the barn with mingled fury and fear. "I say we should rush her!" Ike said. "There
ain't but one of her, and there's six of us!" "You want to go in first, Ike?" Frank said. "She might have the door covered
from in there."
"We could just start shooting through the barn's walls," Billy Clanton pointed out. "They's probably gone already,"
Tom McLaury said. "We need to get Hank to a doctor," Billy Claiborne pointed out. "That bitch shot him." "I am.. . not
seriously hurt," Hank said. He was sitting on a bale of straw against the back wall of the stable, deep in the shade.
"We should at least take a look," Frank said. "Where'd the whore nail you?" "Never mind," Hank said. "Stay ... away.
It is. .." He hesitated, as though searching for the right phrase. "Just a scratch." "I'm gonna go back in there. .." Ike
said, waggling his revolver in the air. But he didn't move. He didn't like the idea of being the first one through that door
one bit, and he was hoping one of the others would go in first. "There's people comin', Ike," Frank pointed out.
"C'mon, you guys. Put the hardware away. We've got company!" Even in a wild town like Tombstone, gunshots
brought out the curious and the morbid. A small crowd of townspeople , men, mostly, but a scattering of kids, were
coming down Fremont Street in several noisy packs, some spilling through the vacant lot, the corral, and entering the
barn, and others coming around behind Fly's place, approaching the gunmen hiding at the building's rear. In the lead
was John Clum, the town's mayor and the editor of the Tombstone Epitaph. He was the head of the Citizens' Law and
Order League and a solid pro-Earp man. "Clanton!" he shouted, when he saw Ike. "What in tarnation 's going on
here?" "We should arrest 'em for disturbin' the peace!" another
voice called out. Ike looked and saw Doc Holliday in the crowd. "We was just in there," Billy Clanton said, excited,
"and this woman-" "Nothing going on here," Ike said, nudging his brother hard in the ribs with an elbow, and stepping
out in front of him. "Nothing at all!" "What was all the shootin' we heard?" Clum demanded. "Wasn't us, Mayor," Ike
said, truthfully enough. He spread his hands. "We heard some gunshots and came 'round back here to check 'em out.
Didn't find nothing. You boys see anything around front?" "Ike, you yellow-bellied liar," Holliday snarled. "And
you're a damned son of a bitch, Holliday...." Clum put a hand on Holliday's arm as the man started to reach for his gun.
"Enough, Doc. Let it go." "I'll see you later, Clanton," Holliday said, shaking a finger at Ike. The crowd began breaking
up, disappointed that there was nothing to see. "Ike? What the deuce is goin' on around here?" Ike turned to face
Sheriff Behan, just coming out of the barn. "This crazy girl came runnin' into my office a few minutes ago. Told me a
wild story about some guy bein' kidnapped, and that I should get right over here. From her description, it sounded like
you boys were involved." "Yeah? What'd you tell her, Sheriff?" Frank demanded. "To mind her own business, of
course. She left, mad as a skinned rattler. Then I heard shots and figured I'd better see what the story was." "That
woman is crazy, Sheriff!" Ike said. "She like Vve killed us. She shot poor Hank over there...." "Hank Attwater?" Behan
looked past Ike. "Where is he?" "Why right-" Ike turned to point. The hay bale against
the wall was empty. There was no sign of Hank. "Must've lit out when the crowd showed up," Billy Claiborne said.
"Anybody see him go?" None of them had. "He was shot, y'say?" "He wouldn't let us see the wound," Frank said.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]