BRIEFING FOR RANGE WARS 2007 Scenario starts at 1:00pm. Any player not in attendance of the briefing will have to sit out the game.... SO GET HERE EARLY! The Registration Booth will open at 10:30am
RANGE WARS 2007 Episode One
The ten of us rode, our shoulders hunkered up and our chins tucked turtle-like, as the rain pounded us for another long night. It had not stopped raining in three days and we were, all of us as well as our mounts, soaked to the bone. Lightning flashed, and moments later the thunder rolled around us. I raised my head slightly, looking at the men that rode with me. The ten of us had been through a lot together and I knew we had a long road ahead.
Four years, all said and done, that's how long it had lasted. Four years. We had been together since the start, greeners that would ripen over time. Ten men from different backgrounds, yet we all shared the same desire. Preserve the union. A noble cause. That bullet struck down more than just a President that night at Fords Theatre; it struck down hope as well. Hope for a speedy reconstruction. Hope for a fast mend.
The rhythm of the rain as it pelted my hat, combined with the rocking motion of the horse, sent my mind back to a night much like this one. We all sat around a small fire on the banks of the Tennessee River and talked. The days fighting had been fierce and we knew we were in for it at first light as well. It was on that rainy night that I learned much about these men I had been fighting with for weeks.
Nathan Grimm was the first to break the silence. He looked into the fire as he spoke. "I was a teacher," he began, his round glasses reflected the dancing flames, his pointed beard an ominous shade of red due to the light. "I was head master at a small college in Michigan...the youngest ever." Teach snapped a piece of hardtack off with his teeth and chewed it methodically before continuing. "Soon after the conflict began, I found myself bidding goodbye to far too many young men. Boys, really. My students. It was their dreams, their lives being sacrificed for something that should have been decided years ago. How could I sit and do nothing?"
The man next to him nodded as he answered for us all. "Yes...One must act." Joseph "Law" Boss began his tale. "I, too, had a life before this war...and a purpose. When I was a child, a man showed up at our family farm with a paper. Father met him at the door with his shotgun in his hands. In all my life, I had never seen my father so angry. I remember asking my mother what had him so upset, and she explained to me that the paper said we had to leave the farm. I still remember father standing there with his shotgun in his hands as the paper blew across the barnyard into the pasture. We lost the farm and shortly after - father as well. Years passed, I graduated law school and hung my shingle. But this war has taught me a valuable lesson...sooner or later it all comes down to guns. Father should have shot the SOB after all."
"It's all a gamble anyway," John Black was the next to speak. "I spent my whole life sailing up and down the Mississippi River, seen and known men from both worlds. My daddy was a steamboat captain and I cut my teeth on a loading dock. It didn't take me long to learn that the gamblers onboard made a lot more money than the crew, including the captain. No...it's all a gamble. When this war started I watched men turn on each other, brother on brother, gambling it all on who would win. So I'm here now, gambling on you all."
"Not for me. It's a sure thing," Steven Kree jumped in. "I'm sure of my choices. I had a small parish in Kansas. A small band of raiders attacked the town and burned it all. I watched as my church burned to the ground. As I picked through the ruins and the bodies, I decided that this evil must be dealt with on its own terms. I grasped the sword of Arch Angel Michael and came out swinging."
"Singing!"
The Preacher gently pat the leg of the man sitting next to him.
Eric "Boom Boom" Day had been a miner before the war, and apparently used a lot of explosives. We all learned his first day here that he was almost completely deaf. But he was the best black powder man in the world.
"Nothing, Boom Boom" the man on the other side of the miner answered. It was still funny hearing the English accent.
Tony "The Englishman" Broughcut was a puzzle to us all. He claimed, rather fervently, that he was a direct descendent of King Henry the Eighth. "I came here to build an empire of my own. A cattle empire. The tall thin man moved closer to the fire as he continued. "I had been here about a year when the war started. I felt that if I was to make this country my own...well then I should get involved. You see in England you are judged by your father's actions. What you do as a man means little if your name isn't the right one. This war is about that. And I for one believe the cause to be a just one."
"For my kids, that's what drove me." Rod Styler added. "I was an Engineer, drove the L&M line out of Chicago. Hauled mostly freight, but I did love that train." He held a small wooden object in his hands as he told his story. "I couldn't believe it either. When it all started I mean...seems along time ago." The man held up the small object. "My son made this for me." He placed it to his lips and blew gently.
"Sounds like a train whistle from far away," I said.
"Yep...My boys love trains too." Whistler placed the treasure gently back into his vest pocket.
"More wood," Ray "Sticks" Oxwald said as he set the bundle down. Sticks had been a lumberjack before the war; none was better with axe or blade. He never said much. I learned about him from the Doc.
Jason "Doc" Blue had been with the regiment from the start. He lay curled up next to the fire snoring lightly. Doc could sleep anywhere at anytime. And would save our lives many times over. He never told any of us why he was here, with a small Calvary troop, but we learned to not look a gift horse in the mouth. That night was to be the first of many campfire talks for the ten of us. It was a miracle that we all survived those times.
A particularly loud thunderclap brought me back to the present. Teach had fallen back from the head of the column and was now riding beside me.
"Think we should pull in for the night, Colonel?" he shouted above the furry of the storm.
I simply nodded yes. They still called me Colonel, after all this time.
Law Boss took point and soon located a cave in the side of a hill large enough to house us and the horses. The Gambler built a small fire and as we settled in I explained to them why we were here...none had asked in the three days we had been reunited, they just came when I called.
"General Scott has been appointed the military governor of a new territory which is opening in just a few days time. He has asked for our help. It's a chance boys. A new chance for all of us. I ask for your help in bringing law to this edge of civilization."
None spoke for a moment. Then each in turn simply said yes. ************************************************* Episode Two
"Don't you see, Kid! It's a new chance!"
The pounding of the piano and the rumble of the crowd all but drowned out what Whitey was yelling to his young friend. The Kid didn't react; he simply stared straight ahead into the large mirror that was always over the bar in joints this big.
"Are you listenin' to me, Kid!" shouted the pale man.
No one seemed to notice the man stepping just inside the saloon door. Only a few noticed as he raised the Winchester rifle in his hands and leveled it at the Kid's back.
Snake-like, the Kid struck. In one smooth motion, his 45 was out and he spun towards the door. A single shot rang out as the crowd reacted, some diving for cover under tables...others just trying to get out of the line of fire by racing towards the edge of the room. The impact from the bullet threw the man back out the door and onto the boardwalk.
"That's the guy from this morning. He's been tailin' us all day, Whitey." The two, along with the rest of the crowd, walked out to the fallen man.
"That's Bud Short," one of the locals announced.
"All right folks, what's going on here?" A large man wearing a badge pushed his way through the crowd.
"It was a legal shoot, Marshall. Bud here was about to bushwhack this kid...seen the whole thing Marshall," another of the spectators spoke up as all murmured in agreement.
"That so?" The big man moved closer to the Kid.
"Saw him in the mirror..."
"So what do you figure you done to upset Bud here?" He pointed down at the dead man.
"I think it was about this," the Kid slowly removed his gun from its holster. Handle first, he offered it to the Marshall. "He stopped us when we rode in this morning...tried to buy it from me, but I wouldn't sell. Guess he figured on getting it another way."
The Marshall's eyes were wide, never before had he seen such a weapon. The craftsmanship, the balance, the hand etching along the barrel, the gold inlay, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Sounds like Bud. So how did a youngster like you end up with a gun like this?" the Marshall asked as he continued to admire the weapon.
"Won it in a card game," the Kid replied as he extended his hand to retrieve his weapon.
They locked eyes, and just for a moment the Kid thought he had lost it.
"What's your name, boy?"
Continuing to hold out his opened-palmed hand, he answered, "Korey Blaze."
As they stood facing each other, Whitey slowly moved his hand, gently resting it on the handle of his holstered gun. Then with a quick flip, the Marshall handed the Kid back his revolver.
"Well ...enough folks saw it to call it a legal shoot, so I'll not hold you."
"Much obliged, Marshall."
"But I will tell you this. Bud here has two brothers and when they find out what's happened...well I can't say they're gonna be too happy. I'd suggest you get on down the trail as soon as you can."
With that the Marshall turned to the crowd and gathered some volunteers to carry Bud's body to the undertaker.
"So Whitey...what's the name of that town you been spoutin' about?"
"Edge City."
* * * * * * * * * *
She stepped off the rear platform of the train, her gray silk dress blending in with the shadows of the approaching night. In one hand she carried a small leather satchel, in the other a smaller drawstring purse. The train slowly pulled away leaving her standing alone on the platform.
The two cowboys saw her as she stepped off the train. They continued to pass the bottle of whiskey between them as they watched her standing on the platform. Then as the train pulled away, they moved towards her.
She heard them...and then smelled them, right before the bigger of the pair roughly grabbed her arm from behind. Spinning her around, the satchel dropping to the walkway.
"You waiting for somebody, little lady?" the drunk cowboy slurred.
"Please..just leave me be," she pleaded.
"I'm somebody..." he said as he pulled her closer to him.
The odor of whiskey and the trail filled her nostrils. "Do you feel that?" She leaned forward and whispered in his ear as she shoved the barrel of her Derringer into his belly.
"Huh?" he stammered and grunted as he noticed.
"It's a 42 caliber pistol...with a greased barrel. Know what a greased barrel means, cowboy?"
The shorter cowboy was now moving closer. "What's she sayin?"
She continued to whisper, "It means that when the bullet comes out it spins, like a little saw, it just rips through you. Tearing up your insides. Won't kill you right away...it will take a few days."
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her.
"But not to worry, cowboy. I'll come visit you every day, just to remind you of how stupid you are...and to watch."
His friend was now beside him.
"You little..."
The shot echoed through the platform area, as did the man's scream.
As his friend stood in shock, the lady in gray quickly produced another pistol and shot him between the eyes. Quickly she dropped both guns into her purse, picked up her satchel and headed for the hotel.
The next morning at breakfast she heard about the shooting. How dreadful it had been, two cowboys fighting over a herd...one dead, the other dying.
She easily located the doctor's office, and true to her word, she visited the dying cowboy every day. On the fourth day she was told he had died...and being that she was his only living relative, naturally, she gained ownership of her "brother's" herd.
It was the financial backing CJ needed to bankroll her dream.
Now it was on to Edge City. ************************************************** Episode 3
The coughing had become persistent. It had begun to wake him in the middle of the night, it was getting so bad. He sat on the edge of the examine table waiting for the doctor to return. At least he was in Chicago, and at one of the best hospitals in the country. If you had a problem, this was the place to get it checked out...or to check out, whichever the case. As the man sat alone in the cold room, he laughed to himself as to what had brought him to this city. The idea of becoming the top newspaper reporter in Chicago suddenly dimmed considering his current situation.
The door swung open and the elderly doctor walked into the room. He flipped through the papers he held in his hand and then peered over the top of his reading glasses. "Mr. Fritzwalter..."
"Folks just call me Fritz," the man seated on the table replied.
"Fine...Well, Mr. Fritz, this is the problem...your lungs. I'm afraid that you are in the early stages of consumption. It's something that's been popping up more often lately. I'm afraid the only cure is to relocate. Get out of the soot and smoke of Chicago and head west where the air is cleaner and drier.
Fritz listened to the doctor as he muffled his cough.
"This will help for now. Take two teaspoons as needed. This will help with the cough, but you're going to have to make a change, Mr Fritz."
"Just Fritz."
"Yes....well, you can pay on your way out. Good day, Sir." And with that, the doctor turned and left the room.
Fritz uncorked the top of the bottle with his teeth and took a big gulp. It was going to be a long day.
As the sun set over the big lake that night, Fritz had all in order. He was packed, and he had his ticket on the train out the next morning. He was heading to a small town on the brink of busting loose...a town called Edge City.
* * * * * * * * * *
CJ waited while the wrangler eyed the herd. She had never sold this many head of cattle before and wasn't quite sure what the market was, but she knew she was ahead no matter what.
"Kinda scrawny aint they," he shouted over his shoulder at her. "Seems they been run hard ....not much to 'em," the man added as he spit a great stream of juice onto the ground. "Hides might be worth somethin..." he mumbled as he wiped the spit from his lips with his sleeve.
"Whatever you think fair," she answered.
"Fair would be you given 'em to me so you won't have to deal with the burial!"
She watched as he moved about the herd, her patience wearing thin.
"Two dollars a head! That's it. Top dollar for these things I might add," he shouted then spit once more.
It wasn't near what she needed, but she had to be on her way. She was about to accept the offer, when a voice directly behind her spoke, "Four dollars is the going rate. Them steers are fine, don't you take less than four."
CJ turned around to face the man standing behind her. He was well dressed in a pin-stripe suit. The round hat perched on the top of his head, and the clothes he wore, contrasted dramatically with the well-used sidearm he wore relaxed on his hip.
CJ spun and shouted to the man still wandering among the cattle, "I think I'll take five, or I'll take my steers elsewhere."
"Five! Why that's robbery! Pure robbery! ... I'll give you three. Three is it! And I'll be taking a loss on these beasts, that's for sure!"
"Five." CJ responded.
"Now, missy," he deposited another long stream on the ground before continuing, "I just can't do that...No, I won't. Three seventy-five! And don't tell no one or I'll be out of business before sunset!"
"Could you be so kind as to direct me to..." she unfolded a small piece of paper before proceeding, "to the Underwood Stockyard?"
"Now you don't want to go there, oh my no. Why they would chew a little ol gal like you right up. Now listen, I can do four dollars. On my wife's grave I swear that's it!" He placed his right hand to his heart as he spit, then waited.
"Four seems fare. I will be back first thing tomorrow morning to pick up my money. Thank you."
CJ turned and walked past the man in the bowler hat.
He tipped the brim slightly and smiled, "Mr. Joshua W. Gray, at your service."
There was something about this man that she liked right away.
* * * * * * * * * *
The hot sun was directly overhead as the two friends rode together across the dry landscape.
"I'm tellin ya Kid, gold just laying on the ground it is! And the cattle, why the cattle are roaming free for the taking! It's gonna be great, Kid. I heard the streams are full of beaver. The money we could make from trapping alone could set us up for life! When we get there we can start our own ranch, be our own bosses, and take what we want! We can hire some men, you know, get a good crew together. Like the old days, remember Kid? Boy those was some good times wasn't they. We had us a good bunch back then, before the war remember? Yep, guess we about been through it all together haven't we? Ever think about home, Kid? I sure do...not as much as I used to, but every now and then. Remember my Mom's cherry pie? I haven't had one that good since. Have you? Yep, I guess we've been together along time, huh Kid. Maybe this time we can settle down for a while, you think? I bet we can hit it big in Edge City. Kid, I bet we can run that place in no time at all. Think we could? I think we could. I can't wait. Got some big plans for us, buddy. Some big plans."
"You keep makin' them plans, Whitey." It was the first thing the Kid had said in three hours.
* * * * * * * * * * Episode Four
Flashes of lightning briefly brightened the deserted streets as the ten rode into town. The formation halted only momentarily to view their surroundings. To call this collection of tents and shanties a town was a stretch. Dim lights glowed through dirty windows. They spurred their horses forward at a slow trot. Curtains were pulled aside and dark silhouettes watched them as they passed.
"They seem a little worried," Teach broke the silence.
"I would be. We must be a sight."
The group continued slowly through town, stopping at last in front of the Sheriff's Office.
"Find a place to get dry and wet, boys...be with you directly." The Colonel dismounted and stepped onto the porch and then into the jail.
Behind the desk sat an old man, his long white mustache and shoulder length white hair reflected the small lantern's light, "Help you mister?"
"I believe you are expecting me...."
".....Colonel Cross. Yep - got the telegram last week. Looks as if I'm being put out to pasture," the gentleman rose slowly from his chair and extended his withered hand. "Sheriff Oscar Rosecrans... I guess former Sheriff, now."
"You are more than welcome to stay on, ya know," the Colonel replied.
"No...no. You boys is going to have your work cut out for ya. No .... I plan on doin' alittle fishin." He moved from behind the desk and faced his replacement. "Keys are in the top drawer, bottle in the bottom." The elderly man slowly shook his head and turned towards the door.
"Wish you and yours the best of luck, Colonel," were his parting words.
*****
Fritz stood on the rear platform of the last car. As the train lurched forward, his hand reached out and grasped the rail firmly.
"And so it ends," he said to himself as he looked over the city he had grown to love.
"WAIT!" A female voice shouted from just below the steps of the platform. "Wait, Oh please!" She called.
Fritz moved to the steps and saw a sight he would never forget. Carrying a camera, still hooked to the tripod, her hat flying from her head and her free hand reaching for the rail was a woman with the most determined look on any face he had ever seen.
Fritz reached out for her hand
"No you fool! Take the camera! Take the bloody camera!" she instructed.
Doing as he was told, he reached down and took the bulky object from her hand. As the train sped up, Fritz called out, "You might want to hurry..."
The young woman hiked up her dress with both hands and sprinted closer. "I.... could.... use.... that... hand.... now!" she panted.
The reporter reached down and effortlessly pulled her onto the platform beside him. "So what was that all about?" he asked as she did her best to fix her hair and straighten her dress.
"Jennifer Mustang" she said as she extended her hand, "but please, call me Jen".
"Call me Fritz"
"Nice to meet you, Fritz, and thanks for the hand. I just had to get that shot, the steam blowing , the moment of movement, " Jen explained as she reached for her equipment and turned to open the door to the car.
Fritz followed her in and before long he learned that she was a photographer who was heading to, of all places, Edge City.
It was a meeting that would change both of their lives forever. ***************************************** Episode Five
CJ stepped from the trading post and turned her face towards the sky. She closed her eyes and soaked in the warmth of the western air.
"Much better than the dress I take it?" Josh was sitting in a chair leaning backwards comfortably as he looked up at her.
"Much!"
"Driver says about four hours before we get there." Josh stood up eyeing CJ from head to toe. The buckskins she wore clung tightly to her small frame, and the tilt of the hat spoke volumes to anyone who was paying attention.
"So... you're sure about working for me?" she asked.
"Looking forward to it," was his response.
"You know it's not going to be easy."
"Nothing worthwhile is, Boss. Nothing worthwhile is."
The stagecoach carrying the pair arrived in Edge City at dusk.
********
The Kid and Whitey road into Edge City like so many drifters before them, tired, hungry, and flat broke.
"Sure am hungry, Kid."
"Me too."
"So you figure we can maybe get us some food somehow?" Whitey rubbed his empty belly as he asked.
"I think so."
"I sure hope so, Kid. My belly thinks my throat's been cut."
The two walked into a small tent that had been set up as a restaurant. Instantly a rather large robust woman was upon them.
"You two sure look a sight! Bet you're hungry huh?"
The Kid, hat in hand responded, "Yes ma'am...trouble is....well..."
"You ain't got no money do ya?" She interrupted.
"Not a cent."
"Well....I got a lot of chores need doing. Figure you two could work for supper?"
"Yes ma'am!" Whitey jumped right in.
They ate until they were about to bust; and never worked harder for anyone when they finished.
When night fell, they bedded down in the barn near their horses. The Kid pulled his hat down over his eyes, folded his arms across his chest and was sleeping soon after.
Whitey was exhausted, but his mind was racing. The land rush had drawn a lot of people, no denying that. He pulled out the well-worn piece of paper, carefully unfolded it and smiled. "April 1st at two o'clock."
He sure was glad they got there early.
******** Episode Six
Edge City seemed to swell as the train unloaded hundreds of fortune seekers daily. The cowboys and gamblers filled the streets and the once small shantytown had, in a matter of days, tripled in size and was still growing. Tents and makeshift buildings were popping up at the rate of four or five a day. Three saloons had been added in a week's time and another was under construction.
The streets were an avenue of mud and dung, and the smell of the people combined with the animals was overpowering. Several new restaurants had opened, two with board floors along what was now being called Washboard Street. And of course, along with all of this came the buzzards. Con men and loose women lurked the dark alleys and out of the way places to take advantage of anyone who dare fall within their grasp. But for the most part, Edge City remained calm. A few minor brawls and gunplay, but nothing of major importance.
The time had finally arrived and it was an incredible sight. A solid line of wagons...the horses and humanity undulating as if the line itself were a living creature. The dust rising slightly in the still air as the animals pawed at the earth, while the men did their best to keep the beasts behind the line. The Colonel and his men watched as the soldier moved toward the cannon. He stood at the ready, waiting his commander's orders.
The General sat stiff in his saddle as his mount shifted beneath him. He eyed his pocket watch for the exact time. His free hand was raised slightly above his right shoulder and the gunner's eyes were locked firmly to it. And then it fell, the lanyard was pulled and the cannon erupted across the prairie. An explosion of men, animals and gear erupted forth, the human wave raced forward.
The Colonel watched in amazement, and he wasn't alone. Those that were there to witness the event knew that stories would be told for decades of the land rush. Myths would be hatched, and legends born.
"A lot of folks with the same idea," Doc mumbled as he picked some brown mud from the bottom of his boot with a stick. "Land fever."
"How full is the jail, Colonel?" asked Sticks.
"Jail? If you call that storeroom a jail. Let's see...I've got one cowboy for disturbing the peace...shot up the saloon alittle...and probably another five on fighting."
"Sounds like the place is about to bust."
"Oh, and one more. A gal from Sadie's shot a man...in his...well..." the Colonel hesitated...
"Let's just say if that bullet had gone a hair to the left, our boy wouldn't be too happy!" Doc interrupted.
"Where are you holding her?" the Preacher asked.
"House arrest. Figured she wasn't going anywhere. The cowboy wasn't pressing any charges," the Colonel answered as he shrugged his shoulders.
The deeds were soon filed and it was not long before two major factions had risen to the top. One was a kid, really, but something about him drew loyalty and desire. The other was a woman, of all things, determined to carve her own path from the very bedrock of this country. Each has acquired men, equipment, and enough land to make a good go at it. All that was left now was to see who had the better cowpokes...who would gain the highest share of the ranging herd. In addition, it was well known that the military was paying top dollar for horseflesh in order to outfit the new border units. The opportunity was available to all, but only a few would succeed. ********************************* Episode Seven
It had always puzzled him. He was an educated man after all, overly so by some standards. He was a man of science and of logic...but this "sense" of what was about to happen that periodically invaded his well-organized world still puzzled him.
Teach did not know that the men gathered at the far end of town were casing the bank, but he felt it. Edge City had been packed with people the entire day, so it was hard telling what those folks were really up to. But he felt it. They could be just a bunch of boys from one of the larger ranches gathering for payday. But he doubted it. It was a cracker box of a bank for sure, ripe for the picking. Slowly he moved down the street.
Whistler stepped out of a doorway and was now walking beside him. "You get that feelin?" he asked Teach. Whistler had learned to trust "that feelin'", it had gotten them all in and out of many situations during the war.
"Seems like a lot of cowpokes."
"You recognize any of them, Teach?"
"No...not for sure...one maybe..."
"Think I'll just cut through here and come up on the other side there, o'l buddy." With that being said, Whistler dodged off and moved between the buildings to afford a better angle on the group of men.
"Good morning Deputy!" Fritz shouted from across the street as he approached.
Two or three heads rose from the group and looked towards the two men.
"How you doing today, Deputy."
"Fine thanks," Teach replied as he kept his gaze trained on the group near the bank.
"Say, I'm working on a piece about all of you. Wondering if you can fill in some of the holes for me. I'm trying to get a first edition run by the end of the week," Fritz stated.
"Anything I can do to help."
"Is something wrong Deputy? I notice you keep looking down the street."
"No...I'm sorry." Teach gave Fritz his full attention. "You were asking something?"
At the sound of the first shot, they both turned. The second shot blew the hat from the top of Fritz's head.
"Get inside!" Teach shouted as he simultaneously shoved Fritz and drew his revolver.
The next few shots that rang out he immediately recognized as the report of Whistler's Sharps Carbine snapping off rounds. Behind him chaos reigned as men scurried for cover and horses bolted from the sounds of gunfire. Teach was closing the gap rapidly as he watched a pack of masked men pour from the bank, all firing in every direction at once. Bullets whipped past his head and kicked up the dirt at his feet as he continued to close in on the group. When he was within range he stopped, raised his weapon and in a hail of bullets he began squeezing off well-controlled rounds.
Bodies tumbled to the ground, while others jumped and ran toward the horses being held by one lone cowboy. The pale youth stared wide-eyed at the explosion of gunfire around him. Both hands were full of reins and he was holding on for dear life as the animals reared and pulled. Slowly Teach turned his attention to the youth, and squeezed the trigger firing his last shot. The white haired man spun around from the force of the bullet and was thrown to the ground as the rest of his companions grasped the dangling reins of their horses and mounted up, spinning and spurring their animals directly at Teach.
Methodically he loaded his weapon, counting the men as they neared. Eight of them had made it out of the bank. As he loaded his sixth shot and closed the chamber, two tumbled from their saddles, both striking the ground and bouncing beneath the hooves of the horses behind them. As he raised his gun to sight the next target, Doc's voice boomed.
"Teach!"
The gunmen galloped nearer as the Deputy turned to see Doc pointing. Teach instantly focused his attention to Doc's warning and saw to his horror a woman, not more than ten feet behind him, standing beside a camera and holding the flash pan. She was intent on getting a picture.
Teach felt the ground shake as the horses moved closer and he sprang towards the young lady shouting at her to get out of the way. She remained frozen in spot, focused...calmly waiting for the right moment.
Within seconds Teach had closed the gap. Bullets were striking the dirt and the boardwalk all around them, one whizzing past his ear. As he reached out for her, the pan flashed. Instantly the Deputy was blinded. His momentum carried him into her, and her camera. The galloping horses reared, and in the confusion three more robbers were hit and fell dead to the street. The pair tumbled onto the ground as the remaining desperados galloped out of town.
* * * * * *
Whitey moved slowly through the dark alleys of Edge City, his side burning where the round had passed. He could not ever remember hurting so much. The warm blood soaked his shirt and saturated his gun belt. It had been a long afternoon.
It had seemed like such a good idea. All he had to do was hold the horses, ride out with them, and get his cut. Easy, simple they had told him. No one was going to get hurt, it would be a snap. The blood continued to flow and he winced as he placed the bridle over the horse's head. The saddle was going to be the hard part...that and explaining to the Kid what had happened. It had seemed like such a good idea. ************ Episode Eight
Fritz was the first to reach the couple. "Jen! Are you all right! I told you it was crazy!"
Boom Boom was next. "TEACH!" he shouted. "You ok?"
The Deputy stood up, lifting the woman to her feet. As he rubbed his eyes, he demanded, "How many got out?"
"Three. Me and Whistler could of got 'em, I think...........then there was that flash," Boom Boom looked annoyingly at Jen.
Whistler rounded the corner, his hand pressed to his side and blood trickling between the closed fingers. "We going after them?" he asked.
"You're not going anywhere!" Doc shouted from down the street as he moved quickly toward them.
"Doc's right," Teach said as he blinked rapidly. "Boom Boom, Preacher and I will go after them."
"Five dead. You made a quick job of it," said Doc as he took a quick look at Whistler's injury.
Teach had finally regained his sight when he asked, "What about the pale fellow, holding the horses? White hair, younger man?"
"None of the corpses fit that description. They all appeared to be pretty rough hombres," Doc answered.
"Thought for sure I got him...thought for sure," mumbled Teach.
The three were soon mounted and riding hard in the direction of the robbers. As they rode out of town, Fritz and Jen stood watching.
"Who was the Deputy that ran into me?" she asked Fritz.
He smiled, knowing that look, having seen it many times in his life on the faces of others. "Don't you mean - swept you off your feet?" he replied with a grin.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The three lawmen rode fast, as the trail had been easy to follow.
"Boom Boom, I want you to go and see if you can get us some help from the CJW crew. If we can wrangle up a couple of men to help us out, surely we can hem the three of them in...trap them between us, the Indian Territory and the KGB homestead," Teach instructed.
With a brisk nod, Boom Boom spurred his horse and turned towards the CJW ranch. Teach and the Preacher continued on the trail.
It was almost dusk when Boom Boom came upon a group of men running a fence line for the CJW ranch. He galloped up and skidded to a halt in front of the group. "The bank in Edge City got hit this afternoon and three of the robbers are coming this way. What I need is for you to keep a sharp eye out for anyone coming from this direction, is that clear?" Boom Boom shouted excitedly as he pointed down the road.
Boom Boom dismounted and quickly deputized the CJW men. The men understood the importance of what they were being asked and each was determined to help the law in this new territory. The group then prepared for what might happen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Kid had spent most of the day rounding up cattle and driving them back to the holding pen. It had been backbreaking work, but a very profitable day. He and his men had gathered up several horses as well and he was looking forward to breaking a few of them himself. As he headed for the gully on the far end of his property, he thought it odd that he had not seen Whitey all day. He found it hard to believe that Whitey had such pressing business in town. The Kid had learned, however, you never really knew what Whitey was up to.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The three ranch hands had no idea what they were riding into. They had been sent by the Kid to check the fence line between the KGB and CJW ranches. The three slowly trotted over the rise, precisely where Boom Boom was waiting.
Boom Boom had no way of knowing which one of his deputized men shot first, and once the bullets started to fly, it really didn't matter. The ambushed ranch hands reacted quickly, turning their mounts and spurring them back in the direction they had come. In mere moments, two of the KGB men suffered serious wounds as the three raced off in the orange twilight of dusk. * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The robbers rode hard into the failing light. "Think we lost 'em?" one of them shouted over to the leader.
"Not sure...got to keep movin," he responded.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Teach knew he was close. With the light fading fast it was easy to lose your bearings and with the way the tracks turned, he was convinced that the bank robbers had gotten themselves lost. He was sure they were turning in a circle....so sure that he sent Preacher straight across the plains to intercept them. It wasn't long before he had proven his theory. Before him the setting sun silhouetted the three horsemen as they rode hard, side-by-side.
Teach spurred his already exhausted mount forward. No way was he going to let these men get away, not on his watch. The gap narrowed and his quarry loomed closer. Ahead was a small dip in the plains, not much, but just enough for him to possibly lose track of them. While still at a full gallop, Teach drew his Winchester rifle from its saddle scabbard and took aim on the man to the far left of the line. Timing the horse's bounce, he squeezed the trigger. The man tumbled from the saddle like a rag doll. Still running at full speed, he cocked his rifle and took aim at the robber on the right. Once more, waiting until just the right moment, he squeezed off another round, and again the target fell to the ground.
The Kid heard the first shot, scrambled for his gun and threw himself against the wall of the gully. As the second shot rang out, this one closer, he braced himself and pulled back the hammer of his revolver.
Teach was certain that he would only get one shot at the last of the fleeing robbers. Once more he raised the Winchester...and just as the rider's horse began to dip down out of sight, he pulled the trigger.
The third shot was closer still and moments after it echoed a pile of man, horse and money spilled into the gully. The horse screamed as it struck the ground kicking and thrashing for footing. The Kid dove to one side, just escaping the slashing hooves of the stunned animal and the falling body of a man.
Teach skidded his mount to a halt at the edge of the gully, dismounted and leapt over the rim. When he landed he and the Kid were face-to-face, gun barrel to gun barrel.
"What's going on!" the Kid shouted as he locked eyes with the dust-covered man.
"Drop the gun!" Teach bellowed as he pushed his gun roughly against the Kid's chest. It was then that he heard the groans from the man on the ground.
"Don't be a fool, son." a voice spoke calmly behind the youth. "I'll say a prayer for you, but sure as God made green apples - I'll drop you where you stand." The Preacher moved closer as he cautioned the steady handed lad.
"No trouble here. I was just fixing the fence line is all," he was setting the gun on the ground at his feet while explaining. "I heard the shots, and well as you can see this came tumbling in!" the Kid was pointing at the now silent robber, the money still drifting in the air and falling to the ground around them.
"Seems pretty convenient, Blaze, you being right where they were headed," Teach said as he lowered his gun and bent to retrieve the pistol on the ground.
"I told you I was fixing the fence line, and that's the truth."
The Kid was covered with the kind of dirt that only a full day's work could produce. Teach handed the pistol back to the young man, looked him square in the eyes and said, "You had better just head back to your ranch."
With those words of advice, and thankful to get out with his skin, Korey Blaze headed home.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The night curtain had dropped, but the full moon had risen and shone bright across the land. In the distance the Kid identified three riders closing fast. He wasn't able to make them out but they were heading to his homestead. Angling his horse slightly, Blaze turned in the direction of the three unknown riders. As he came closer, he heard a warning shout from one of the men.
"Who is that! I'll shoot!"
"Easy now Pard!" Korey shouted back as he reined in his horse slightly.
"That you Kid!" the man asked. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
