Chapter Nineteen

 

When Tarfay made it safely inside the warehouse he stared in shocked surprise at the occupants.

‘You!’ he spat.

‘Damn right, lawman,’ said Scart, keeping Tarfay covered with his pistol.

‘Well blow my hide,’ muttered Cornpone, coming in behind the Ranger. ‘If this don’t beat all.’

Tarfay looked across at Tag and Eloise, ‘You two all right?’ he asked.

Tag nodded, ‘We’re okay.’

Tarfay quartered the inside of the warehouse, taking in the two wounded brothers and the stern figure of Jed Crome watching him cautiously.

‘This all there are of you?’ he asked.

‘That’s it,’ answered Scart glibly. ‘You going to take us in now?’

‘We’ll get to that,’ said Tarfay grimly. ‘But right now we got a parcel of Indians to deal with. You got any ammo?’

‘We’re near out in here,’ Tag answered. ‘How about you?’

Tarfay twisted to show the almost empty loops on his gun belt, ‘Not much left,’ he said.

‘Listen, we’ve got a plan,’ said Tag hastily. ‘You see those cans out there in front. That’s all kerosene, we reckon a few well placed shots when the Indians get close enough and we should blow a whole heap of them away.’

Tarfay squinted at the scattered array of silver cans lying scattered before the warehouse doorway, and then he turned back to Scart. ‘Looks like we’ve got a truce going here for the moment,’ he said.

‘Until this is over, I guess,’ leered Scart in reply.

‘That’s about it,’ Tarfay agreed.

‘And then it’s back to business, huh?’

‘I’m the law, Scart. That’s how it has to be.’

‘Goddamn it, Tarfay. You are something else, you really are,’ chuckled Scart.

‘They’re coming!’ called Tag from the doorway and they all heard the wild cries of the raging Apache as they neared.

They dashed to the doorway and took up positions filling the opening, ‘Wait for it!’ yelled Tarfay. ‘Let them step across that kerosene before you fire.’

As the wave of Indians approached, the defenders waited with nervous apprehension, fingers twitching on triggers. The crazed Apaches were running at full tilt, maddened and impervious to the threat with their mouths open wide as they howled out insane sounding war cries.

With a roar of gunfire the defenders inside the warehouse opened up.

The front line of brave disappeared under an exploding sheet of flame, the blast shot up in a great ball of yellow fire. Secondary explosions followed and soon the entire section of ground before the warehouse was hidden under a huge stretching wall of blasting detonations that spread liquid flames in every direction. Within the veil of roiling fire blackened figures twisted and coiled, some bursting through the blazing curtain and running forward covered in streamers of flame and screaming piteously before they were shot down.

The heat was intense and Tarfay and the others squinted in the pressure wave that came towards them and seemed to singe the very air about them. Remorselessly they held their ground, picking of survivors of the inferno as they appeared. The roaring flames rose up enveloping all around the semi-circle of destroyed containers spreading their liquid fire upwards as soaring arcs in every direction.

Slowly, the boiling blaze settled, the flames whisking off into a densely oil packed black cloud that pillared up into the sky. The stink of burning kerosene was strong and mixed with the smell of roasted flesh it was a sickening and nauseating stench.

His face reddened by the heat, Tarfay looked out over the steaming stretch of soil before him. The ground was still scattered with isolated and flickering pools of burning material. Nothing else moved out there and amongst the small fires only the twisted and charred bodies of the Apaches lay scattered in a forest of clawing hands and distorted limbs.

‘By God!’ breathed Scart. ‘That sure worked but now it’s my turn.’

At the sound of the menace in his voice, Tarfay swung around pointing and firing without a second thought. The hammer clicked on an empty casing and Tarfay tried again only to find his Colt was empty. His fingers felt at his gun belt but every loop was empty and almost lazily Scart watched him with amusement.

‘Looks like you’re done, Ranger,’ he said, checking his own pistol and grinning with satisfaction. ‘I held off and still got some. Best you drop your weapons and raise your hands, the whole bunch of you.’ He looked over at Crome, ‘How about you, Jed? Still got any fire power.’

Crome shook his head, ‘No, I’m finished.’

‘Well, then, I’m the man it seems.’

He hustled Tarfay, Cornpone, Tag and Eloise to one side holding them at bay with his loaded gun, ‘Check the brothers, Jed,’ he said. ‘They been awful quiet lately, I reckon maybe they won’t be taking a share of our little windfall any more.’

Crome crossed over and checked on the two Mack brothers and looked over shaking his head, ‘They gone,’ he said. ‘Sure sorry about that, they was good old boys.’

‘That’s it then,’ smiled Scart. ‘Just to finish up here and we’ll be on our way. Any last words, Ranger?’

‘Let the kids go,’ said Tarfay. ‘They been through plenty already.’

Scart shrugged, ‘Then they had enough for a lifetime, wouldn’t you say? Unless the little missy has changed her mind. You want to come along of us, girl? We got money to burn right now, you’ll have a ball, I promise.’

Eloise glared at him, ‘You vermin, you disgust me,’ she spat. ‘Even with all this death, still you want more killing.’

Scart raised his eyebrows at Crome, ‘No gratitude, you hear that, Jed? I give her a chance and what does she do? She spits in my face. Hell, I don’t know what the younger generation’s coming to.’

‘Come on, Scart,’ said Crome. ‘Get it over with and lets get out of here.’

Scart looked at them all speculatively, his eyes narrowing and his lip curling.

‘Well, which one shall we do first?’

‘Enjoy the moment,’ growled Tarfay.

‘Oh, I intend to. I think it’s going to be you, mister Ranger. You hounded me across half the damned country and made my life a misery. I think its going to be you.’

He advanced rapidly across the intervening space, the pistol held high and pointed directly at Tarfay’s face.

‘Any last words?’ Scart asked.

‘See you in hell,’ rasped Tarfay, his eyes locking on the outlaw’s.

‘That’s for sure,’ chuckled Scart as he ratcheted back the hammer and leveled the pistol on Tarfay’s forehead.

‘Lower that pistol right now, mister!’

The loud command came from outside the warehouse and was uttered in a firm voice.

Scart looked around to see Ronny standing there with a Henry rifle to his shoulder pointed right at him.

‘Who the hell….’ Scart began but Tarfay leapt forward and knocked the outlaw’s gun hand aside before delivering a hard-bunched fist to Scart’s jaw. Scart’s head jolted back and he rocked on his heels but Tarfay was not finished. He waded in with another punch that landed deep in Scart’s stomach, the gunman oofed air and doubled over leaving himself open to an uppercut that rocketed up from Tarfay’s waist and sent Scart flying.

Nimbly, Tag jumped forward and collected the fallen pistol before Crome could move in and collect it for himself.

‘What’s going on here?’ asked Ronny, coming into the warehouse still holding his rifle ready.

‘You just helped the law do its duty, young fella,’ grinned a relieved Cornpone. ‘Saved a Ranger’s life and helped capture a pair of wanted criminals. Let alone aiding in the recovery of a whole heap of government gold, I reckon somebody’s going to be mighty grateful to you.’

‘You think so?’ asked a bemused Ronny.