Lizzy Breen choked off a screech of pleasure as her teeth bit into Brit’s shoulder, drawing blood. Her fingernails dug deep furrows in his back as they both reached their shuddering climax together.
Her head fell back on the pillow and she closed her eyes as the last waves of ecstasy swept over her.
‘Oh, God, that was better than the last time,’ she panted. ‘And the time before that.’
Her legs fell away from his sides and Brit rolled off her. His body, like hers, glistened with sweat in the candlelit room.
Lizzy swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Brit watched her buttocks sway as she walked across the room and began to dress. She looked up and saw him watching her.
‘Will I see you again tomorrow night?’ she asked.
Brit shrugged. ‘Word has it that the trail herd will arrive tomorrow, so I don’t know.’
She thought briefly about Savage and what had happened between them, with Josiah. She knew from what happened before that he was a hard man to kill. And she figured that when they tried this time around, they might have the same problem.
She said, ‘Well … if you have time, you know where I’ll be.’
‘Yeah.’
Lizzy completed getting dressed in silence and then left.
‘Well, there she is,’ Llano Sam said. ‘We made it.’
Savage, Bannister, and Mavis all sat on horses atop a low rise and looked over the town before them. To their rear, the herd was strung out for over a mile. Savage had seen no urgency to rush them. That way they would still carry some condition for the buyers to view.
From where they were, they could see the yards on the east side of town along with the rail spur. It was mid-afternoon, and Savage thought it would be almost dark by the time all the cattle were safely away in the pens.
‘Once the beasts are penned up, I’ll stand the boys a drink at the saloon. But that’ll be it until we’re paid. With some luck we’ll have the herd sold tomorrow and I’ll pay everyone off.’
‘They ain’t going to like that.’
‘They knew it when they were hired, Mike. I was straight up about it.’
Bannister nodded in agreement. ‘I know. I’ll have a word to them.’
‘You do that. In the meantime, let’s get them in.’
When the last of the cows passed through the gate and into the yards, Savage reached into his pocket and took out a roll of money. He took off a few notes and handed them to Bannister. It was more than he’d figured to spend but they’d earned it. ‘Go and have them drinks. I’m going to see if I can hunt down a buyer.’
Bannister took the notes and said, ‘Take the kid with you.’
Savage gave him a puzzled look. ‘You don’t think he’ll want to have a drink with the rest of you?’
‘Maybe. But when he drinks, he’s troublesome. And tonight, I just want to relax.’
‘I can understand that. I’ll see you at the saloon.’
‘You won’t know which one.’
‘I’ll follow the noise.’
After Bannister had gone to break the news to Hanson, Mavis found Savage, and a broad smile crossed her face.
‘We made it,’ she said, beaming. ‘Thank you so much for what you’ve done, Jeff. You and Mike, both.’
Savage patted her on the shoulder. ‘I’m going to find a buyer. Are you coming?’
‘Damn straight.’
‘Good. I don’t fancy you wandering around here on your own.’
The door to Breen’s office opened and Brit walked into the room. He sat in a leather chair across from Breen and said, ‘They’re all in the pens.’
‘Savage?’
‘He went to find a buyer with the woman, along with a feller called Hanson. You neglected to mention that it was Mike Bannister’s crew who was riding with him.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘They’re a tough bunch.’
‘So’s Savage. I shot the bastard twice and he still managed to stay alive. Then he hires a crew and they steal my herd.’
Not your herd, Brit thought.
‘What do you want to do?’
‘The buyers were warned about buying cattle from anyone except me.’
‘Savage ain’t one to take no for an answer.’
‘Well then, have our new sheriff go and arrest him for rustling. Then we’ll hang him, make it all official.’
‘I’d rather just kill him.’
‘No, I want it done legal.’
‘What about the girl. Isn’t it her herd?’
‘I have a bill of sale from her father. Forged of course, but it should stand up in a court of law. Especially our court.’
‘All right, we’ll try it your way. But if it don’t work, we do it my way.’
Savage found the cattle buyers in the third saloon he tried, aptly named The Longhorn.
When they pushed in through the saloon doors, the busy room gave them a cursory glance and went back to what they were doing.
The smell of newness still permeated the dull, smoke-filled room. Like the rest of the town, the scent of new timber was unmistakable.
The Drifter ran a cautious eye over the space. Most of the tables were filled and only a few openings were left along the hardwood bar.
A whore spotted them and walked up to where they stood, hips swinging, cleavage showing. She smiled at Savage, a broad, even-tooth smile.
‘Hiya handsome, what can Irene get you?’ she thrust her ample chest out as an invitation. ‘Maybe you could by me a drink?’
‘Maybe you could tell me where to find the cattle buyers that are supposedly in town?’
Her eyes flickered to a table across the room. ‘I don’t think they’re in here.’
‘Thanks,’ Savage said and pushed past her.
Mavis and the kid followed him to a table where three well-dressed men sat with a half-empty bottle of whiskey between them.
‘Are you gents the cattle buyers?’ Savage asked them.
They eyed him cautiously, taking note of the Yellow Boy in his hand, and then one of them, a man with blond hair and mustache to match, said, ‘Yes, sir. What can we do for you?’
‘I got cows to sell.’
‘Sorry, we can’t buy them from you.’
‘Are you cattle buyers or not?’ Savage demanded.
‘We are,’ said a thin-faced man.
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Barnes,’ he indicated the blond man. ‘This is Carson, and our friend here is Simpson.’
‘I’m Savage. The lady here is Mavis Porter. It’s her cows you’ll be buying. We did a count when we penned them up this afternoon. There’s almost two-thousand. We’re twenty-five shy. What are you offering?’
‘I’m sorry, Savage, Ma’am,’ Barnes said, shaking his head. ‘We daren’t risk it. Normally we’d pay thirty dollars per head. But Breen and his man have this all sewn up. I heard they’re going to offer five dollars per head and then sell the cows to us for top dollar. Your herd is the first here. But we’re expecting another five or six.’
‘You said you’re paying thirty?’ Savage asked Barnes.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Then you just bought yourself a herd.’
Barnes opened his mouth to protest when his gaze drifted to the entrance of the saloon. His face paled and Savage turned to follow the buyer’s concerned stare.
Three men had entered the room. They were unkempt and rough-looking. The man in front was a solid character with a barrel chest. Pinned to that chest was a star.
The Drifter turned back to the buyers. ‘Trouble?’
‘Burt Hickam,’ Barnes explained. ‘He’s the sheriff. The others are Mal and Webber. Breen’s hired guns that wear badges. They’re killers, although not as bad as Brit.’
‘Killers, you say?’
‘Yeah, stone-cold.’
Savage looked at Mavis. ‘You might want to walk away. If they’re as bad as these fellers think, it might get a little dangerous.’
Mavis understood what he meant and moved over to one side of the room.
From where Savage stood, he watched as the so-called lawmen walked across to the bar and talked to the round, bald-head barman. He in turn, looked over to where the Drifter and the others were and pointed them out.
The three lawmen started across the room, picking their way between tables which seemed to vacate every time one was passed.
They stopped in front of Savage and the kid.
‘Are you Savage?’ the sheriff growled.
‘Who wants to know?’
‘The name’s Burt Hickam. As you can see, I’m the law in Dobson. Now, are you Savage?’
The Drifter smiled. ‘Yeah, I am Savage.’
A puzzled expression flitted across the sheriff’s face and then disappeared. ‘Then I got the right man.’
‘For what, exactly?’
Out of the corner of his eye, the Drifter saw the kid’s hand drop to the butt of his gun.
‘You’re under arrest for rustling,’ Hickam informed him. ‘That herd of cows you brought in, you stole from Mr. Breen.’
‘That’s a lie!’
All eyes in the room stared at Mavis.
‘You stay out of this, little lady,’ Hickam advised her.
‘The herd is mine. If anyone deserves to be arrested for stealing, it’s Josiah Breen!’
Savage’s voice was cold. ‘There’s your answer, sheriff. Now be on your way.’
Hickam pressed on stubbornly. ‘I guess that’ll be for a judge to sort out, won’t it?’
Savage’s thumb eared back the hammer on the Yellow Boy. ‘If you don’t turn your outlaw ass around and walk out those doors behind you, I’m going to put a .44 slug between your eyes. Your move.’
Hickam’s face changed to a deep-red color. He wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. He had always been the intimidator, damn it. Time for them to learn.
Something in the outlaw sheriff’s eyes must have telegraphed his intentions because even as his hand swooped down for the six-gun in its holster, the Winchester in Savage’s hand came up and he fired it one-handed.
Just as he’d told Hickam, the bullet punched into his head, right between his eyes. The back of his head exploded outwards and a gory spray of blood, brains, and bone shards splattered over his deputies.
The sound of another bullet being jacked into the Yellow Boy’s breech could be heard through the sudden din.
The gun centered on the closest deputy and the Drifter snarled, ‘Out!’
The shocked men didn’t move.
‘You don’t want to end up like your boss, get out!’
‘Hold it!’
The crowd of onlookers parted and through the opening walked a man Savage knew only too well. Brit Foster.
‘Hello, Savage.’
‘Foster.’
‘Word has it that you’re a tough man to kill.’
‘I could say the same about you.’
Brit absently rubbed at the livid scar beneath his shirt. ‘A Reb doctor saved my life. Paid him back by killing him when I escaped.’
‘Sounds just like you.’
‘Come on, damn it,’ Hanson growled. ‘Let’s finish it now. Kill these sons of bitches and it ends here.’
Brit’s face turned to granite and his hand dropped to his six-gun. ‘You in a hurry to die, sonny?’
‘Leave it, kid,’ Savage warned him.
Hanson never took his eyes from Brit. ‘I ain’t afraid of you.’
Footsteps sounded on the floorboards and Bannister appeared. He looked at Hanson and said, ‘You should be, kid. Now, walk away.’
‘Mike …’
‘Now.’
Hanson mumbled and walked away from the group. Brit stared at Bannister. ‘Howdy, Mike. Ain’t you on the wrong side of this one?’
‘Man goes where the money is good. Savage pays well.’
‘I see.’
Savage interrupted them. ‘You go and tell Breen that we’re selling our cows to Barnes here. And if he has a problem with it, we’ll be at the pens in the morning. And tell him too, that once this is all done, I’m coming after him. I owe him a couple ounces of lead.’
‘You’ll have to get through me first.’
‘So be it. Tell him.’
‘Okay.’
Brit and the others turned to leave.
Bannister stopped them when he said, ‘Take your trash with you.’
The killer signaled to the two deputies who bent down and grabbed Hickam by his arms and began to drag him across the floor towards the doors.
The Drifter waited until they were gone before he turned around to the pale-faced Barnes and said, ‘Where were we?’
‘I guess we do it your way,’ Breen acknowledged. ‘Might I suggest we make an example of our illustrious cattle buyer?’
‘You want him killed?’ asked Brit.
Breen slammed his palm down on the hardwood desk with a crack! ‘It’ll make the others think twice, by Christ!’
‘All right. What are we going to do about the cows?’
‘He invited us to a cattle sale tomorrow. We’ll not let him down. Get the men together first thing. In the meantime, kill that damned cattle buyer.’
Mitch Barnes had a spring in his step when he left the saloon and started along the boardwalk toward his hotel. The reason might have been due to the way Savage had stood up to Breen’s men, or it could’ve been because he’d had a couple of whiskeys too many.
Whatever it was, it made him feel great.
The euphoria was short-lived when a shadow materialized from an alley to block his passage. He looked at the six-gun the figure was holding, and his bladder released, realizing instantly that the inevitable outcome to this situation would be his untimely death.
And when the peaceful night was torn asunder by gunshots, Barnes was propelled backwards in a violent motion. He impacted the ground hard, his body arched and convulsed as he fought for life. Blood flowed from his mouth and the holes in his chest to pool beneath him.
Barnes’ mouth opened and closed a couple of times and then everything went black.
It was still dark when Lizzy Breen showed, looking for Savage with the warning of what her husband had planned.
When Bannister shook him awake, the Drifter was dreaming about his dead wife and happier times.
‘Come on, Savage, wake up,’ Bannister growled, shaking his shoulder.
‘I’m awake, damn it,’ he moaned. ‘What the hell is the matter?’
‘You got someone here to see you.’
Savage rolled out of his bedroll and stood up, stretching out the kinks. ‘Where?’
‘Over there, near the yard rails.’
With the exception of Mavis, the crew had all camped at the cow pens in case of something sinister happening. Nothing had so far, however that didn’t mean it couldn’t.
The Drifter blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and stared at the figure in the low firelight. He shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘It’s her. You ain’t dreaming.’
‘Last time I saw her she got me shot.’
‘Maybe she came to say sorry.’
‘Let’s find out.’
A moment later they both stood in front of Lizzy Breen.
‘What do you want?’ Savage’s tone was blunt.
There was no hello, no apology, Lizzy just cut to the point. ‘Your buyer is dead.’
A cold hand of realization settled on Savage’s shoulder. ‘What happened?’
‘Josiah had Brit kill him.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘I was responsible for you getting shot the last time. I don’t want it to happen again.’
‘What do you mean again?’
‘Because they are going to come down here and kill you after the sun comes up. Brit and Josiah have scraped together around thirty men for the job.’
Savage looked at Bannister. ‘Looks like there’s a fight coming. Are you in or out?’
‘If the cattle don’t get sold, I don’t get paid. I’m in.’
‘All right,’ Savage turned back to Lizzy. ‘Thanks for the warning. Now you best get out of here before they work out you’re not where you’re supposed to be.’
‘Be careful, Jeff Savage.’
‘I always am.’
Once she was gone, The Drifter said to Bannister, ‘Let’s get Grub over to the hotel with a shotgun. He can watch over Mavis while this all plays out.’
‘Okay. I’m sensing you have a plan, already.’
‘Yeah. Let’s hope it works.’
By the time they were ready, the sun had clawed its way into a clear sky, painting the surrounding landscape a red hue.
An omen, Savage thought, but for who?
The street below was eerily silent. Beside him, on the Cattleman’s Hotel’s second-floor balcony, Llano Sam waited patiently. Across the other side of the street were two more trail hands. The rest, along with Bannister and the kid, were waiting for Savage’s signal.
‘I wish these fellers would hurry up,’ Sam growled.
‘Don’t be in such a hurry to die,’ Savage told him.
‘Who said anything about dying. These bastards are keeping me from getting paid.’
There was movement from behind them and Mavis stepped out and joined them in the fresh air.
The Drifter gave her a scornful look. ‘What are you doing out here? I told Grub to keep you in the room across the hall.’
Two men stepped out from behind her.
‘These men insisted they help.’
Savage looked at the two buyers, Carson and Simpson. They both carried Henry rifles. The Drifter shook his head. ‘Go back inside. This ain’t no place for greenhorns.’
‘Who’s a greenhorn?’ Carson asked. ‘We both served. We know one end of a gun from the other.’
‘Well, make sure one of you stays alive. I aim to sell them cows once we’re done here.’
‘Do you have enough men?’
‘I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?’
A low whistle came across the street from on top of the dry-goods store. Savage glanced over and saw one of the men signal that Brit and his hired killers were coming.
‘Keep low,’ Savage hissed. ‘Once this kicks off, it’s going to be like Antietam all over again. Mavis, get back inside.’
The crowd of men moved quietly along the street. Savage could see Brit out in front of them, but no sign of Breen.
The Drifter waited until they were level with his position before he stood up, his Yellow Boy at the ready.
He said in a loud voice, ‘You all going somewhere, Foster?’
The rest of them stood up and raised their guns.
Down below, the armed bunch was confused as to what was going on. How did they know? But not Brit.
‘She told you, didn’t she?’ he shouted. ‘The bitch told you.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I guess not. I’ll kill her later, after I’ve killed you.’
Savage shrugged. ‘I guess that means you ain’t going to surrender.’
‘You guess right. After all, there ain’t enough of you to go around. Did Bannister run out on you? Always knew he had him a yeller streak.’
‘Nope. He’ll be along directly.’
‘Pity you won’t be around,’ Brit snarled and brought his gun up and fired.
It was a hasty shot, one which missed and chewed splinters from the wooden façade behind Savage.
With that, the street roared to life, gunfire rolled along it like thunder.
On the street three men had already fallen with the first volley from those above it. One man had a slug in his belly and was hunched over, his bloody hands trying to hold his guts inside the brutal wound.
Brit fired a second shot at Savage and missed again. This one tugged at the Drifter’s shirt-sleeve.
Savage fired back at the killer, but another outlaw got in the way and the slug buried itself into the man’s chest.
A pained shout came from across the street and the Drifter saw one of the hands stumble around like a drunk, on Saturday night, before another bullet smashed into his chest close to the first.
‘Damn it,’ Savage cursed and shot one of the other outlaws below.
‘I’m hit!’ the pain-filled voice drew his attention and he saw Simpson down on his knees.
Savage shouted, ‘How bad?’
‘Bastard got me in the shoulder.’
‘Get back inside and get Mavis to look at it.’
The buyer disappeared in through the door and the Drifter turned his attention back to the street. That was when a rumbling sound started to reverberate, and he could feel the tremors coming through the timber beneath his feet.
He wasn’t the only one to feel it. On the street the outlaws felt it too. But by then it was too late.
A frantic shout drew Brit’s attention toward the end of the main street. His eyes widened as he saw the throng of Longhorns jammed shoulder to shoulder as they were driven toward the group of gunmen.
Another shout made the killer turn to look the other way. If the first sight made him show a hint of fear, this one made Brit go weak at the knees. Another wall of Longhorns was charging at the melee from the opposite direction. Behind them he saw the figure of Bannister atop a horse, shouting orders at the few men who rode with him.
‘The cows!’ Brit shouted desperately. ‘Shoot the frigging cows!’
The outlaws turned and saw the immediate danger and froze. Thousands of pounds of beef were bearing down upon them and there was nowhere for them to go.
The gunfire switched targets as the men below concentrated their fire on the cows. Others headed for the boardwalks.
A great, bawling tide of hooves and horns closed fast and the group and animals slammed up against each other, swallowing those of Brit’s gunmen who remained on the street.
Savage saw that one of them had escaped to the far boardwalk. A big black and white beast charged at him, his horns sweeping all before him.
The gunman tried to climb an awning post but at the last instant, slipped and the cow caught him with one of its horns. It gored him just beneath the ribcage and the Drifter saw it drive deep and emerge out the back, its white-patched shoulder no longer pristine, but a dark shade of red.
The gunman’s scream could be heard above the noise as the large animal carried him off the boardwalk and onto the street where the outlaw slipped from the horn and disappeared under the roiling mass.
Somehow others had avoided being trampled to death. Savage saw another gunman jump through a store-front window as he was about to be crushed by a thousand-pound creature. After the beast was gone the man appeared back at the window. He gathered himself and was about to shoot a mounted trailhand when a shot from Bannister flung him back inside.
Below their position on the balcony, Hanson rode up on his horse. Savage saw him shoot another fleeing gunman and sight on another when seemingly from nowhere, a bloodied Brit appeared and was about to shoot the oblivious kid in the back.
A piercing war cry sounded, and before Savage could do anything, Llano Sam launched himself from the balcony and onto the killer below.
Both men went down beneath a mass of stomping hoofs. A gunshot sounded, and Brit seemed to erupt above the backs of the animals as one would from beneath the surface of a raging river.
Then he broke free of the tide and disappeared inside the land claims office.
Savage bit back a curse, gripped the Yellow boy, and leapt over the rail. He landed on his feet between two large Longhorns. The spooked animals lashed out at him but he managed to narrowly avoid their deadly prongs.
Savage bent down and checked Sam and found him still alive. He’d been stomped a couple of times and had a bullet hole in his chest but was still breathing.
The kid saw what was happening and urged his horse through the crush towards where the Drifter stood.
‘Are you crazy?’ he shouted above the din.
‘Give me a hand!’
‘What?’
‘It’s Sam. Give me a hand.’
The kid came down from his horse and helped Savage get him up.
‘What happened to him? Wasn’t he up there with you?’
‘Crazy fool thought it would be a good idea to jump on Brit right as he was about to shoot you in the back.’
There was disbelief on the kid’s face. ‘From up there?’
‘Yeah.’
They managed to get him off the street and back into the lobby of the hotel. They laid him on the carpeted floor and ripped his shirt open. There was massive bruising over Sam’s torso and a blackened hole which bled freely in his chest.
The sound of running feet was followed by a man crashing through the doors. He saw Savage and the kid hunched over Sam and swung his gun up to shoot them. Instead the six-gun in the kid’s hand roared and the slug smashed into the man’s chest. Savage fired too and the slug from the Yellow Boy ripped into the now wounded man’s throat. He fell to the floor, his boots drummed out a staccato tune, and then he was still.
Savage turned his attention back to Llano Sam and cursed. ‘Shit. Kid, get upstairs and find Mavis. She can take care of him until we can get him to a doctor.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going after Foster.’
Hanson nodded. ‘Kill the son of a bitch.’
‘I aim to.’
No sooner had Savage walked through the door when a bullet chewed splinters from the frame near his head. The Drifter spied an outlaw and fired at him.
The bullet missed, but a shot from Bannister brought him down.
Bannister eased his horse over to where Savage was. The herd had cleared somewhat, and the Drifter could see the bloody, trampled mounds of what were once men.
‘Have you seen the kid?’
‘He’s inside with Llano Sam. How many?’
‘We lost four men. I don’t know where Foster is?’
‘I do,’ Savage said. ‘I’m going after him. Find Breen.’
‘I thought you wanted him.’
‘I want the other son of a bitch more.’
Savage marched across the street, up onto the boardwalk, and in through the open door of the lands office.
The room was rocked by the sound of gunfire and bullets rattled the door frame behind him. The gloom of the office was temporarily lit by the flames that shot out of the killer’s gun barrel.
Savage dived to the floor behind the counter, which happened to be where Brit was hiding. Rolling onto his back, Savage swiveled around and started to shoot through the counter’s thin timber frame. On the other side, Brit had the same idea and wooden splinters were soon being exchanged in both directions across the room, accompanied by flattened lead slugs.
Savage cursed as splinters peppered his exposed skin. ‘Shit! Bastard!’ All the while he kept firing the Yellow Boy. Lever and fire, lever and fire.
The sound of shattering glass reached the Drifter’s ears.
Lever and fire.
Then the hammer fell on the empty chamber.
‘Christ!’ Savage flung the weapon aside and dragged his Remington from its holster. However, no more bullets smashed through the scant barrier, and the room fell silent.
He came to his feet and cautiously peered around the end of the counter. Brit Foster was gone. Then he noticed the flames starting to lick at the plank wall.
‘Damn it.’ Savage rammed the six-gun back into his holster and scooped up the Yellow Boy. He thumbed fresh loads into it and headed for the back door.
Behind him, flames took hold and smoke filled the room.
Mavis watched over Llano Sam, a look of concern etched on her face. The scout needed a doctor, and Hanson had gone to fetch one, but she still didn’t like his chances of survival should he get the attention he needed.
She could hear the rattle deep emanating from the scout’s chest with each exhalation and noticed his breaths were becoming shallower as it filled with blood.
The sound of footsteps signaled the return of the kid with the doctor. They rushed in through the doors and hurried across to where Mavis and Sam were.
Mavis breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God.’
The kid smiled. ‘He’ll be –’
A gunshot sounded, and Hanson crashed to the floor.
Startled, Mavis cried out. The doctor, on the other hand, moved swiftly to check on the fallen young man.
‘Don’t be in such a hurry, doc,’ Josiah Breen snarled. ‘It won’t hurt for him to bleed some.’
Mavis turned to see Breen standing near the hotel’s counter. He’d slipped in through the back door without anybody noticing. He waved the six-gun in his right hand at Mavis.
‘Stand up,’ he snapped. ‘Then walk over here.’
‘No!’
The six-gun crashed again, and another slug hammered into the kid. His body lurched from the impact.
‘Don’t!’
‘Do as I damned well say!’ spittle flew from his lips, eyes rolled crazily in his head.
On trembling legs, Mavis stood up and walked slowly over to the madman. Once she was within reach, his hand shot forward and grabbed her by the hair.
‘Ouch! You’re hurting me.’
‘I’m going to more than damned well hurt you if I don’t get out of this town,’ he snarled.
A trailhand ran in through the door and shouted, ‘Hey. The building across the street is on fire!’
He saw Breen and … ‘What the hell?’
Breen gave him no time to recover before putting a bullet in his chest. He then dragged Mavis towards the back door, calling out over his shoulder, ‘Tell Savage if he wants the girl back, to come get her. I’ll be waiting near the pens.’
A couple of minutes later when Bannister found the doctor working on Llano Sam, he saw the dead cowboy and then his eyes settled on the still form of the kid.
‘What happened?’
‘Breen shot them and took the woman with him,’ the doctor explained. ‘He said to tell the one called Savage that if he wanted the woman back he’d find him down at the pens.’
Bannister set his jaw firm and started for the door. ‘The hell you say.’
Savage located a trail of red outside the back door and followed it to a large house on the outskirts of Dobson. Brit had obviously been seriously hit, judging by the amount of blood he’d lost over the course of his journey.
The trail led right up to the front steps. Then the large drops tracked up them and across the verandah to the open door.
From inside the timber structure came a scream followed by a meaty thwack! Then, ‘You told him, you bitch! You frigging warned him! Do you know what he did? He drove damned cows over us!’
The sound of another slap reached Savage’s ears.
He slipped inside the house and crept cautiously along a short hall, hoping not to step on any squeaky floorboards as he went, following the sound of the voices to a doorway at the end.
‘I’m going to kill you for what you did, you bitch!’ Brit snarled.
Something wasn’t right with the killer’s voice. It was different somehow.
‘No, Brit. Please. I didn’t do anything.’
Whack! ‘Liar.’
Savage brought the Yellow Boy up and stepped into what turned out to be the kitchen.
‘That’ll do, Foster.’
Brit turned to look at Savage, and for the first time, the Drifter could see the extent of the killer’s horrific injuries.
His jaw was crooked and oozing blood, his left eye was all but closed and his shirt torn in more than one place. The blood trail followed by Savage had been issued from a wound with a protruding rib-bone which could be seen through a tear in the shirt.
The wounded man instantly maneuvered to stand behind Lizzy Breen, his six-gun rammed into her back.
‘Fuck you! I’m going to kill you too, you son of a bitch,’ he slurred thickly.
Savage was about to say something when the muffled report of Brit’s six-gun sounded. Lizzy’s eyes flew wide as the slug ripped through the front of her blue dress and sprayed a fine mist of crimson outward. She opened her mouth to scream but a squeak was all that emerged, followed quickly by a torrent of blood.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Savage hissed.
As Lizzy slumped to the floor, the Yellow Boy roared, and the .44 Henry slug punched into Brit’s chest. He rocked on his feet and a snarl appeared on his face as he fought to stay erect.
Savage casually levered another round into the Yellow Boy’s chamber. He stared into the pain-filled eyes of the once Union sergeant and his lips peeled back from his teeth. ‘No. Fuck you!’
The next slug slammed into the misshapen face and blew out the back of Brit Foster’s head. The floor beside the body of Lizzy Breen now held a second corpse.
The Drifter walked forward and stared down at the dead killer and then at Lizzy Breen. She stared back at him with sightless eyes. He shook his head. ‘What a waste.’
Now it was time to kill her husband.
‘Let the girl go, Breen!’ Bannister snapped.
‘Where’s that bastard, Savage?’ Breen raged as he managed to only partially hide at the heels of the struggling form of Mavis.
Behind Bannister a large plume of smoke reared its ugly gray head into the clear morning sky as the fire, which started in the lands building, had now spread to two others.
‘You’ll deal with me, Josiah. You killed the kid. Shot him down in the back like a dog. It’s time to pay up.’
‘What else did you expect? You ruined everything. It was all set up and you lot wrecked it.’
‘Shoot him, Mike,’ Mavis urged Bannister.
Breen moved his hand across her face to silence her and thus made his mistake. One of his fingers slipped between her lips and into her mouth.
Mavis bit down hard and felt the bones of the finger give, the warm, coppery taste of blood flooding her mouth.
Breen screamed and wrenched the mutilated appendage from between Mavis’ sharp teeth. He reactively pushed her away, leaving himself wide open for what happened next.
The shot from Bannister’s six-gun rocked the room and a red blossom appeared on Breen’s chest. The gun in his hand fell to the floor as his grip loosened and his strength ebbed away.
Breen staggered forward a couple of steps before his legs failed to support his weight and he fell to his knees. He remained there for a moment before he fell onto his side, convulsed once and went still.
Bannister walked over to Mavis and helped her to her feet. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I—I think so.’
‘Come on, let’s go find the others.’
‘I’m sorry about the kid,’ Mavis told him.
Bannister just nodded. ‘Come on.’
They found Savage coming out of the hotel where the doctor informed him about Breen and his demand. He wasn’t surprised to find Mavis with Bannister.
The Drifter gave him a sorrowful look, ‘I’m sorry about the kid, Mike. He was starting to grow on me.’
Bannister said, ‘I think he looked up to you in a way. He’d started to settle some, lose his hot-headedness.’
‘How is Sam?’ Mavis asked him.
‘Doc says he’ll pull through. How about you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks to Mike.’
Savage turned and looked back along the smoke-filled thoroughfare. On the side of the street where the fire had started, a bucket brigade was trying desperately to extinguish flames which now engulfed five buildings. In the middle of the dusty road lay the mangled bodies of the outlaw crew.
At final tally, the outlaws had lost twenty-five of their thirty men, and Savage’s crew was down eight. Of the Longhorns, ten had been lost in the stampede, with another four put down later on. Apart from the few lost buildings, the town had fared well, and the cleanup had already commenced.
The following day, not long after sun up, a lone figure led his horse away from the cattle pens in Dobson. He’d climbed onto the back of his horse when he heard a voice say, ‘Leaving without saying goodbye?’
Savage turned in the saddle and saw Bannister standing there with Mavis and Grub. He swung the roan about to face them. ‘I ain’t one for goodbyes.’
‘What about thank yous?’ Mavis asked.
‘Don’t need to thank me, any of you. All I did was get a lot of people killed.’
Bannister said, ‘They were big enough to make their own choices.’
‘At least let me pay you for what you did,’ Mavis pleaded.
‘No need.’
She stepped forward and passed Savage a thick roll of bills. He wouldn’t know until later that there was fifteen-hundred dollars in it.
‘Thank you, May,’ he said softly.
‘Where are you headed from here?’ Bannister asked.
‘I figured I might head on down to Abilene. See what a real Cowtown looks like. Maybe pick up some work.’
Bannister held out his hand. ‘Good luck, Savage. It’s been right interesting knowing you.’
Savage took the hand in a firm grip. ‘You too, Mike. Say goodbye to Llano Sam for me, will you?’
‘Sure.’
Grub stepped forward and held his own hand out which the Drifter took. ‘Take care, Grub.’
‘You too, Savage.’
Savage sat erect in his saddle, stared at Mavis, and reached up to touch the brim of his hat. ‘Ma’am.’
‘Goodbye, Jeff.’
Savage swung the roan back around and pointed it along the trail. Behind him he left friends and a town with a blackened hole where eight buildings had been destroyed by the fire.
As for Dobson, twelve months later it ceased to exist. It had been built on a dream and died a violent death.
And once more, whispers went on about a man who was becoming a legend.
A drifter named Savage!