Not for polling -the word count got away from me and I don't have time to go back and pare it down. This is part one. I have more written but it's not completely finished and it seemed the best place to break.
October 2022 Challenge
Nothing to be Scared About
Kanab, UTBANG! BANG! BANG!
“Oh my God! He shot him!”
“Is he dead? He was moving as fast as he could. You didn’t need to do that”
“Not fast enough. Now hurry up and fill those bags or one of you will be next!”
“Why you..”
BANG
“Hey, the last man standin’, iffin ya still want to be standin’ an’ not bleedin’ on the floor like those two, get a move on. NOW!” The blond gunman turned slightly towards the dark-haired man beside him and a light-colored eye winked above the red bandana covering the rest of his face. He tossed over his shoulder, “The rest of you, get the horses and shoot anyone who comes runnin’. Someone is bound to have heard those shots. We’ll be right behind ya.”
~~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~~
Kid Curry was tired. He was hot, thirsty, hungry, and very dusty when he rode into Kanab, Utah at the end of a very long day. He hoped that Heyes arrived from Iron City before him but didn’t expect it. Unaccountably uneasy, he hesitated for a moment, senses on alert, while he mopped his sweaty brow with his red bandana. The blond stuffed the cloth square half into his pocket and continued slowly into town. He turned down a small street that ran parallel to the main thoroughfare, listening to the part of him demanding caution until the situation could be more thoroughly scoped out.
Kid dismounted at the livery. He studied the horses in the corral, looking for Heyes’ chestnut gelding and not finding him. He secured his horse to the corral and went in search of the liveryman, glancing at the stalls on his search.
“Hello, anyone here?”
A tall rangy older man peered out of a room at the back of the barn. He studied his new customer closely before ducking back into the room, calling “Be right with ya.”
Curry watched a young boy scoot around the man, who reappeared in the doorway and run out the back door. His attention was brought back to the liveryman.
“What can I do for ya?”
Arrangements were made for Kid’s horse. The liveryman was banging feed buckets around, making a racket. Kid shook his head at the ruckus as he led his dark bay into his assigned stall. Curry was retrieving his saddle bags off the saddle when the hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. An unpleasant tingle of being watched rushed down his spine. His ears picked up the unmistakable sound of multiple firearms being cocked.
“Get your hands up where we can see them!”
Out of habit blue eyes scanned the surroundings and immediately registered the lack of options afforded by the livery stall. The ex-outlaw raised his hands above his head and slowly turned to face the sheriff, a deputy, and several assorted armed townsmen.
“You’re under arrest. Bill, get his gun and then we’ll cuff him and escort this piece of scum to the jail. You others keep your guns trained on him until we get him safely into the cell where he can join his partner.”
Kid felt a weight drop into the pit of his stomach at the mention of his partner, but he kept quiet as he was manhandled out of the livery.
The small group proudly paraded the manacled prisoner down main street. The men basking in the praises by onlookers who stood in doorways of the establishments and in the street to watch. Jeers, curses, and threats were shouted at the Kid, who kept his attention on the deputy’s back.
Crossing the threshold into a jail always caused a well-hidden sense of panic and doom, which was made worse by the mention of having his partner for company. It was harder to affect an escape plan without one of them on the outside. Blue eyes scanned the cells for Heyes, who he didn’t see. What he did see brought his sandy brows down in a frown over his suddenly slitted eyes. His shoulders stiffened and he resisted the hands pushing him forward into the unoccupied cell of the two.
“Now wait a minute. I haven’t done anythin’. Who do you think I am and what are the charges?”
The sheriff was intent on getting his dangerous prisoner safely behind bars and ignored the protest as he propelled him forward. The cell door clanged shut with a loud bang.
Bill, the deputy gave a low growl. “You’ve done plenty in this town last week and you’re stupider than I thought comin’ back, even to save your no good, murderous, thieven’ partner’s neck. Turn around and the sheriff will take the cuffs off.”
Kid stood with his back to the room, giving the prisoner in cell next to him the side eye while he placed his hands next to the bars.
The sheriff yanked Curry’s wrist roughly into the iron bars before unlocking the hand cuffs. He formally pronounced, “Vernon Bucks you are under arrest for murder, attempted murder, and armed bank robbery.” He then added in hard voice while looking the blond straight in the eyes, “Me and everyone in Kanab is goin’ to be happy to see you hung, just like your partner, Les, over there. I might even delay ole Lester Japer’s appointment with the hangman. It’ll be more satisfyin’ to have a double hangin’ for the leader and the gunman of the Jaspar gang.”
Kid paled and he gripped the bars tightly. “I’m not Vernon Bucks. My name is Thaddeus Jones and I’ve never set foot in Kanab, Utah before. And If I did rob the bank in this town, I wouldn’t be riding back into it in daylight, stablin’ my horse at the livery.”
The sheriff rubbed his whiskered chin before turning around, heading for his desk, determined to ignore the prisoner’s lies.
The deputy smiled and leaned against the wall, gloating over the capture of two notorious gang members. He laughed before his voice turned menacing. “You fit the description people gave of a tallish blond about medium build and weight. Light colored eyes. Of course, you always wear bandana’s covering your faces during robberies so no one’s got a good look of the rest of your face. But we can see the red bandana hanging out of that pocket there. Yep, you’re Vernon alright.”
“There’s lots of people that fit that description. I…”
The sheriff interrupted from across the room. “Shut up. I have paperwork to do. Plus, I don’t hear your pal Les there denyin’ it. If you have official type proof you’re Thaddeus Jones you can talk to the judge pre-trail.”
The dark-haired powerfully built man in the next cell rose from his bunk and ambled over to the bars separating the two cells. He half turned from the room, so his face was hidden from the lawmen. Les Jasper’s dark eyes bored into the blond and his face set into a threatening expression which belayed the disgusted resigned tone of his voice, “Give it up Vern. They got us. It had to end sometime, friend.”
“Tell it to the judge and jury. But they’ll see through your lies.” The deputy pushed himself off the wall and joined the sheriff on the other side of the room.
Kid kept his poker face, but his blue eyes turned ice cold as he held the brown eyes of the outlaw. “It’s not endin’ for me. I ain’t your friend or your gunman.”
Les was the first to break eye contact as he whispered under his breath, “Nothin’ to be scared of Curry. Stay quiet and I won’t have to tell them who they really have. You may not be a known killer but you’re still a big-time outlaw. I’ll even admit you and your partner are more of a prize than me and Vern. We’ll talk more when those two ain’t liable to listen.’” He returned to the cot, laid down, and closed his eyes.
Hours later Kid was laying on the narrow cot, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing and listening to the increasingly noisy crowd gathering outside the jail. He put aside his worry for himself and wondered where his partner was and what exactly Heyes would find and do when he finally did arrive from Iron City.
The deputy nervously peered out the barred front window. He worriedly looked over at his shoulder toward the cells as the shouts for immediate action against the murderers inside. He wished the sheriff would hurry back from his late-night rounds. Guarding two such dangerous outlaws that had drawn the anger of the entire town was not what he wanted to be doing this night.
Les Jasper had dragged his cot to the side nearest to his fellow prisoner. He sat with his back to the wall looking out into the main room of the jail. Les pitched his voice low and with confidence not warranted by his situation spoke to the Kid. “Don’t’ look so worried, Curry. Like I said earlier there’s nothin’ to be scared off in this one-horse town. My partner, my real partner is comin’ to break me out with the rest of the gang. Probably tonight possibly tomorra.”
Blue eyes flicked sideways, “If we have a tomorrow. Maybe, I will let you tell them who I am once I decide if bein’ hanged by a lynch mob is better or worse than twenty years in prison.”
Jasper gave a snort of laughter. “We ain’t gonna hang. My boys are gonna come a shootin’. Of course, when they get here if you want to stay in your cell that’ll be fine with me. Vern may have different ideas, though. He’s got a mighty powerful grudge against you. I’m guessin’ he gonna insist you come with us and shoot it out with ya later. He’s been practicin’ with you in mind and has the speed of the wind now.”
Kid opened his mouth to respond but shut it quickly at the sudden opening of the back door of the jail.
The sheriff strode rapidly in and went straight to the rifle rack on the wall. He took out his keys and unlocked the rack. Grabbing a rifle for himself, he then tossed one to his deputy who had moved from the window to the middle of the room. The sheriff then quickly crossed to the desk, opened a drawer and removed boxes of cartridges, stuffing a box in his pocket and tossing one to Bill. Lastly, he withdrew two pairs of handcuffs.
Kid Curry and Les Japser had moved to the front of their cells and silently watched the sheriff. The two outlaws shared a puzzled and concerned look between them.
The Sheriff grabbed the gaping deputy, shoved the cuffs into his hands and dragged him over to the cells. He ordered with a more than a hint of urgency in his growl. “Come up to the bars boys so Bill can cuff your hands. The crowd is getting nasty, too riled up, and is bigger than the two of us can safely handle.”
“What are talking about sheriff?” Les demanded as the deputy cuffed his hands before moving onto the Kid.
“My duty is to legally see you hanged, Jasper. You too, Bucks, soon enough. Lynchin’ aint legal but I’m not gonna fire into a crowd of my neighbors to protect the likes of you. Bill and I are gonna take you the back way to the livery. The tack room there has a good, strong, solid door and lock with no other way in or out. You should be safe enough there until I can calm the crowd down or they wind down on their own.”
All four men inside the jail froze at the closeness of the shouting from the rapidly growing mob.
“Come on, we don’t have much time. I’m doin’ you a kindness by cuffing your hands in front so we can move more quickly before the mob gets wind you’ve been moved. Iffin’ we think you’re even thinkin’ of runnin’ Bill and I will shoot you both in the back with no regrets. Although, that would be a quicker death than the two of you deserve. Now get goin’.”
Bill unlocked the cell doors and with a rifle in their left hands and their pistol in their right hands prodded the two outlaws out the jail’s back door into the moonlit night.
A group of unsavory hard-bitten individuals rode unnoticed into Kanab. The leader of the pack held his hand up as his light-colored eyes caught site of the unruly mob gathering down the main street. Undiscernible shouting could be heard drifting up towards the Jaspar Gang.
“Well Vern, looks like we have a readymade diversion.”
Flint gray eyes darted to the side and then back down the street. “Yeah, maybe we can make this work for us. The lawmen will busy in front, and we’ll bust in the back to free Les. And if there’s a problem it will be like shootin’ fish in a barrel the way all they’re all close together.”
The Jasper Gang veered to side and filed quietly into the dark dusty street that ran behind the buildings on the main street. The soft clomping of the horses, the creaking of leather from the saddles and of men pulling sidearms from holsters were drowned out by the noise of the angry mob in the main street. They kept in the deep darkness on the side of the seemingly deserted street, avoiding the moonlit center.
In the front of the gang Vernon Bucks suddenly straighten in his saddle. He pushed his dirty blond hair out of his eyes to peer intently at the four shadowy forms slinking further down the back alley towards the other end of town. The metal clanking of chains rang softly out in the dark, the harsh sound funneled up the alley by the closeness of the buildings. “They are sure making it easy for us. We don’t even have to bust into the jail.”
“Who’s the other guy with Les? Do we shoot him too or just the lawmen?”
“Just the lawmen for now but we’re here for Les. Nobody else matters. Got it” the Jaspar Gang’s gunmen stated menacing and unequivocally. Let’s go!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BAMG! BANG!
The Jaspar Gang came thundering down the back way with their guns blazing.
“UGHHHH! I’m hit.” The deputy fell flat on his face as his left leg gave out on him. The rifle went flying out of his hand and skidded into the middle of the street. He managed to push Les Jaspar down and lay sprawled across Jaspar’s legs. He was able to twist around and emptied his revolver in the general direction of the unwelcome on comers.
“Get to cover!” The sheriff yelled, pushing Kid in front of him and closer to the back of the general store. Kid crouched down behind a full barrel of chicken feed. He quickly sized up the situation. He tugged at the handcuffs to no avail. The eight inches of chain between the cuffs severely limited his preferred options. The sheriff was crouched beside him and firing at the incomers.
Bullets were flying around, ricocheting off the buildings. Neither the Jaspar Gang nor the lawmen were taking the time to aim. The lawmen were pinned down and the gang members were visible targets in the open. One of the gang members reeled in his saddles, fell off and landed heavily, bleeding out in the dirt. Vernon Bucks was swerving closer, leading a saddled horse ready for his gang leader to jump on. The sheriff and the deputy had the spare cartridge boxes spilled out on the ground next to them. The sheriff’s rifle was lying on the ground just out of reach of the Kid.
Les Jaspar managed to free himself from under Bill, the deputy and stood up. He waved his manacled hands at the gang. “Vern, over here.” He turned towards where the Kid and the Sheriff had taken cover. “It’s now or never Curry, make your choice. I told you my boys would come through.”
Bill reached out and grabbed Les’ ankle, causing him to drop to the dirt, cursing. His shooting became even more erratic as the deputy divided his attention to hindering his prisoner’s escape and defending himself.
“Umppf.” The sheriff groaned in pain, grabbed his right shoulder and leaned back onto his heels. Warm blood ran between his fingers. His right hand dropped to the ground; the gun still held in frozen fingers.
Kid pulled the sheriff further behind the barrels and shuffled forward on his knees. “Give me your gun.”
“No.”
“I’m not Vernon Bucks, can’t you see that now. Do you want to die? Give me your gun.” Kid ducked back as two shots skimmed the end of the barrel, sending a spray of wood splinters and chicken feed their way. He managed to get off his knees and onto his feet.
“No, I don’t want to die but…”
The sound of rushing feet and more guns being fired drew the attention of the gang and the law. Armed townsfolk from the crowd in front of the sheriff’s office were starting to run to see what was happening.
“The Jaspar Gang!”
“Get them, the murderous thugs!”
“Don’t let them get away this time!”
Kid spun around to face the sheriff. He spoke furiously, “Give me your gun. People are going to die if you don’t.” He didn’t wait for the sheriff’s reply and yanked the revolver from the lawman with his still handcuffed right hand. The infamous gunman grabbed a handful of bullets from the blood splatter dirt with his left hand as the right was already opening the gate. Skillful fingers loaded the Colt in a blink of an eyes and the Colt was raised in a two-handed steady grip.
Bang! Bang!
The two nearest outlaws, who had been aiming up the nearest alleyway drooped to the ground, writhing in pain. Their horses bolted down the street and out of view.
More shots came from the deputy and from the sheriff who managed to fire once using the rifle before dropping the long gun once more into the dirt.
Horses wheeled and the remaining members of the Jaspar Gang took positions on the other side of the street as best they could. Vernon Bucks was closest to the defender’s location shielded by his horse and a large red rock boulder. Bucks had the reins of two horses firmly in hand.
Les Jasper eyed the deputy. The junior lawman’s paleness was visible even in moonlight. Les smiled. The deputy wasn’t gonna last much longer and the sheriff was also wounded. He glanced to his side across the gap. He couldn’t see clearly but the sheriff’s posture didn’t indicate much of a threat in his opinion.
Kid inched forward slightly, checking positions of the remaining gang members. He cocked his head listening to sounds coming from behind and to the left of him. It sounded like some of the angry townspeople were still coming cautiously down the alley. They were about to get their head’s blown off.
He fired a few shots at the Jasper gang to keep them back and behind their cover.
Curry spotted a supply wagon a little further up that would give him some cover and a much better angle of fire. He once again pulled his hands apart fruitlessly. “Where’s the key for these?” he demanded.
The sheriff didn’t answer as his head hung low.
Curry sighed impatiently. He prodded the man with his foot. “The key, hurry, I need the key to free my hands.”
The injured senior lawman lifted his head. Glassy eyes look blankly at the Kid. ”Huh? My keys? Can’t give my keys to an outlaw. I can’t…” his voice trailed off and his head dropped to his chest.
Giving the sheriff one last look of disgust, Curry scooped up the remaining ammunition, got into a crouch position ready to run. He took off for the wagon, shooting a covering pattern to keep everyone down.
Les saw his chance and as the Kid took off, he kicked the deputy hard and managed to get to his hands and feet then ran as fast as he could towards his gang’s gunman. He stooped down in the middle of the street and grabbed hold of the deputy’s rifle on his way. He turned slightly as he cocked the rifle and took aim at the Kid. He faltered as red blossomed in the middle of his thigh and his shot hit the dirt a few feet in front his intended target. A few more steps were all he managed before falling in front of the rock providing cover for Vernon Bucks. The rifle slipped from his hand, was hit and skittered just out of his reach. He gave up the quest for the gun and yelled, “Vern, the shooter is Kid Curry. He ain’t workin’ with us.”
Les was able to regain his feet but tripped and had a hard time regaining his balance with his hands still in handcuffs. His leg buckled under him. The injured leader of the Jasper gang started to crawl towards the large boulder when a rifle crack was heard from the alley. Les Jasper jerked once and was still. Bright red stained the back of his shirt.
The kid, having reloaded took aim at the still shooting members of the Jasper Gang. Two of which recklessly stood at either end of a stack of lumber to getter a better angle down the alley. Two quick shots from Curry had them both down and still.
Men started to take shots from the edge of the alley before ducking back out of sight. Their anger at the bank robbery, serious injury of the head teller and senseless killing of the well-liked bank manager fueling their courage.
Vernon Bucks’ eyes widened in the dim light and his face hardened. Curry got the better of him once. He wasn’t going to let him get the better of him again. He muttered determinedly, “Curry’s a dead man.” As he watched the three still relatively uninjured gang members run for their horses. Two made it to mount and escape into the night. He inched himself around to the other side of the boulder. His line of sight was improved and he gave a small evil anticipatory smile upon spying the glint of metal around Kid Curry’s wrists and heard the telltale clinks of metal links when the Kid reloaded the revolver.
Kid raised his head from his task to check on the rapidly changing situation. He didn’t immediately see Bucks where he last saw him. Calm eyes quickly darted to the either side before glimpsing the tip of the brim of the Jaspar Gang’s gunman’s hat. The killer seemed to be the only gang member still capable and conscious in the area, although, he wouldn’t count on that until all the men on the ground were thoroughly checked. His focus now divided on the gunman across from him and the angry armed townsmen to the side of him.
Vernon Bucks popped up, stood square, gun aimed squarely at Kid Curry’s head, yelled, “See you in hell Curry.” and pulled the trigger simultaneously with his target. He staggered back in shock and sank back against the boulder, sliding slowly to the ground. Grey eyes glazing fast, the pistol fell from his hand as the left hand tentatively touched his red splattered chest before dropping to his lap lifelessly.
The guns were silenced. A quiet fell on the back street. The peace only lasted a moment before the mass of men from the alley rushed forward into the mess left by the gunbattle. Some men ran to the fallen outlaws and kicked the hardware away from them before checking to see if they were dead or still alive. Others rushed over to the injured lawmen. Still others gathered around the still handcuffed other prisoner and surrounded him with cocked firearms. A small group had him in their grasps, having retrieved the sheriff’s purloined pistol from the outlaws still steady right hand. A red-faced man stuffed a dirty handkerchief into Curry’s mouth as he started to protest. One had a rope fashioned into a noose and started to slip it over the struggling man’s neck.
“No!” called the deputy desperately. “He saved our lives, practically singled handed. Probably some of yours too. Never saw shooting like that before and in handcuffs, never would’ve believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.”
The mob of men looked over to the deputy skeptically but paused long enough to listen.
The injured lawman continued while his leg was being bound, “He’s not Vernon Bucks and never was part of the Jaspar Gang. We were mistaken on that.”
The man holding the rope noose around the man’s neck looked up. He looked into the prisoner’s eyes and was shocked to not see fear but an icy calm steadiness instead.
“I’m not Bucks. You’d be makin’ a mistake that you’d regret in the light of day. I’m not a cold-hearted killer like him.” The kid said as the handkerchief was pulled out of his mouth.
The noose was lifted off his neck. The general tenseness of the mob began to dissipate into concern for the injured, pride in their part, and satisfaction of the defeat and near annihilation of the murderous Jaspar Gang.
The sheriff roused as he was being lowered onto a makeshift stretcher for transport to the doctor’s office. He was able to prop himself up on his good side elbow to take in the surroundings. He had heard the deputy’s words to the crowd and needed to add in his own directions. He gestured to the burly man hovering by his feet.
“Joe, I’m appointing you acting sheriff until Bill and I are fit for duty. Get yourself an acting deputy or two. You’re gonna need it. That fella that done all the fancy shootin’ is Kid Curry, accordin’ to Les Jaspar and Vernon Bucks. Yeah, he ain’t exactly gonna admit who he is, most likely gonna give you some story about being Jones.” The sheriff’s voice was getting weaker and he needed to lower himself back down to catch his voice. Joe came closer to his head and nodded to the man holding the board at top to hold still. The sheriff continued, “Can’t ask the two no good outlaws how they know he’s Curry no more. Gotta hold him until we can get this straightened out. Lock him up again. The jail and cuff keys are in my right pants pocket. Keep a close eye on him, if he’s really Curry, he’s gotta history of escapin’” With that last piece of advice the sheriff’s eyes screwed up in pain before he once again dropped into unconsciousness.
There was renewed enthusiasm for dealing with the blond prisoner. Men started to slap their fellow men’s backs and congratulating themselves on having Kid Curry handcuffed and in their hands. The group who moments ago were intent on hanging the man they thought was the killer gunman Vernon Bucks now was intent on getting the infamous Fastest Gun in the West, Kid Curry into a locked jail cell as quick as they would have strung him up.
The Kid murmured to himself as he was being pushed and pulled back up the alley to the main street and into the jail, “Heyes, I sure hope you’re on your way. And partner when you get here be careful and think up a darn good plan to get me out of this. Hurry, I need you… again.”
TBC
Sat Oct 01, 2022 9:16 am
halloween month come round once again.
