Nate wasn’t very familiar with the streets of Joplin and he didn’t need to be. All he had to do was follow the smell of smoke and the sounds of screams to bring him closer to the source of the fire. When he was about to turn the next corner, gunshots were added to the mix.
“How many men were on that wagon?” Nate asked.
Pete was still beside him and replied, “At least six went into that depot over the last day or so along with two guards on the outside. I don’t know how many are here now because as soon as I saw that wagon roll out, I got back here to warn you as quickly as I could.”
“Where’s Frank?” Nate asked.
“He slipped into the depot to get a look at the place.”
“Good. Now’s the perfect chance for that.”
Around the next corner, Nate found a scene of total chaos. People huddled on both sides of the street, watching three nearby buildings consumed by a growing fire. There were already men tossing water onto one of the larger buildings and a bucket brigade was forming to keep the blaze from spreading any farther. Two smaller groups of men stood facing each other in the street. Although they were near the groups that were fighting the fire, they were definitely not a part of them.
“Climb down from that wagon and keep your hands where I can see them!” one of the men shouted.
Two gunmen faced his group near the black wagon that had been parked in the middle of the street. “Stay where you are, Jake!” one of those fellows shouted. It wasn’t until that moment that Nate spotted the man who sat perched atop the wagon behind the contraption that had been bolted near the back end. Jake must have been the one up there because he waved at the two near the wagon from behind the contraption.
“You know what we’re after,” the second man near the wagon said.
“That’s the sheriff,” Pete said as he and Nate did their best to get closer to the confrontation without attracting attention. “That place across the street from all them flames is his office.”
“Jesus,” Nate sighed.
“There’s still time to put a stop to this, Hastings!” the sheriff shouted. “I don’t give a damn who you work for. You’re not getting away with this.”
Hastings was the oldest of the men near or on the wagon. He wore a duster that had been pulled back to grant him easy access to his holster, and a bandanna covered a good portion of his mouth. “It’s already done, Sheriff,” he said. “Turn our man loose and we’ll be on our way. Keep us waiting any longer and you’ll have a whole lot more to worry about!”
To emphasize Hastings’s point, Jake pointed the nozzle of the contraption toward one of the buildings that hadn’t started burning yet and sent a stream of fire toward it. Nate could smell kerosene in the air and saw the spark at the tip of the nozzle that had set it alight. The fiery stream grew longer and shorter in time to how Jake worked the pump on the side of the contraption. When the stream was at its lowest, the flame got dangerously close to his hand and was finally cut off when Jake flipped an iron shutter that closed the top portion of the device.
People had scattered at the sight of all that fire, and the men fighting the blaze worked even harder. The flames that had just spewed from the nozzle had singed part of an awning, but hadn’t done much more than that.
Nate turned toward the two people who’d followed him and Pete this far. Pointing to Angelica, he said, “Grey, get her out of here.”
Deaugrey nodded quickly. “Of course.”
Digging her feet into the ground, Angelica kept herself from being moved. “You wanted me here to help, Nate,” she said. “So let me help.”
“This isn’t why you’re here,” Nate told her while shoving her toward Deaugrey. “And if you get burnt to a crisp, you won’t be much use to me whatsoever. Go with Grey and stay safe. Pete and I will handle this.”
The lawmen who’d taken a stand against the wagon had backed up a few steps but were still facing the men who’d started the fire. “You make one more move to work that machine and we’ll start shooting!” the sheriff warned.
Hastings stood his ground. “You hit the wrong part of that wagon and this whole block goes up in smoke.”
“The longer we stand here and talk, the more of this town will burn around us!”
“Your town,” Hastings said. “Not mine. And if you don’t want it to burn, then I suggest you do what we asked.”
The sheriff thought about his options for a few more seconds. He made up his mind real quick when the front portion of the bucket brigade hollered an alarm as a portion of one burning building’s roof collapsed. “Wesley,” the sheriff said. “Bring that prisoner out here.”
“Goddamn it,” Nate snarled from within the crowd.
Pete was still beside him and asked, “What are we gonna do? We can’t let them burn this whole place to the ground.”
“It won’t come to that. If they wanted to destroy this town, they could have doused more of it in kerosene while driving up and down every street.”
Nate didn’t have to tell Pete what that reason was and if there was any question in either man’s mind, it was answered by a wild howl coming from within the sheriff’s office.
Pescaterro came out of the sheriff’s office hot on the heels of a barrage of gunshots that were fired randomly through the front window. The crowd that had been outside waiting to see how they might be able to help with the fire now scattered like a flock of birds that had been flushed from a bush. As he stepped outside, the outlaw shoved the younger deputy in front of him.
“Nobody come near me, you hear?” Pescaterro shouted.
The sheriff held his hands out to show they were empty. “Take it easy. You got what you want.”
Until now, Nate had hung back so as not to make things worse. Since they’d already gone straight to hell, he rushed toward the lawmen and said, “Get away from that wagon!”
The sheriff turned, recognized Nate from when he’d brought Pescaterro in after subduing him at the barbershop and started to motion for him to stay back when the wagon’s driver snapped his reins. Already nervous from the nearby fire and the excitement surrounding them, the team of horses lurched into motion to pull the wagon down the street away from the fires and the group of lawmen. Pescaterro reveled in the sheer chaos filling the street and laughed maniacally while running to catch up to the black wagon. Before he could get to it, the wagon’s back gate fell open to reveal the multiple barrels of a Gatling gun. The man inside the wagon turned the gun’s crank and sent a barrage of lead into the street.
Nate and Pete had been hurrying to the lawmen’s side and split apart to get out of the street as the first shots came. Even if they’d charged straight ahead, they wouldn’t have gotten to the lawmen in time before they were cut down by the Gatling gun’s hellish spitfire. Dropping to one knee, Nate drew his Remington and held one arm out so he could prop the gun on it for support. Knowing the pistol’s range all too well, he took aim while trying to ignore the stream of hot lead that was working its way toward him.
Once he had his line of fire set, Nate slowly let out his breath and squeezed his trigger. The Remington bucked against his palm to spit a round at the back of the wagon and knock the man behind the Gatling gun straight back into the shadows. The mechanized weapon’s barrels stopped turning, and the wagon kept rolling down the street.
Not all of the lawmen had been hit. One of them nursed a grazing wound on one arm while another seemed to have made it through the ordeal without a scratch. That one was already tending to the sheriff, who was lying in a pool of blood in the dirt. Since he couldn’t do any good for the lawmen, Nate ran to catch up with the wagon.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Pete asked as he ran behind him.
“I brought that maniac in once,” Nate said between huffing breaths. “I won’t let him get away now.”
“There’s more than the damn wagon to worry about!”
As soon as Nate thought about something other than Pescaterro, he realized the thunder of hooves wasn’t just coming from the team in front of the wagon. It also came from directly behind him. Nate turned to look over one shoulder and was just in time to see Hastings charging toward him with pistol in hand. After clearing a path by hopping up onto the boardwalk running alongside the street, Nate swung the Remington to pound it against the mounted gunman’s chest. Hastings slumped in his saddle to catch his breath when Nate grabbed his arm and pulled him down from the horse.
Hastings was twisted around by the combination of Nate pulling him in one direction and the horse pulling in the other. Thanks to the nearby flames spitting cinders onto the horse’s back, the animal wasn’t about to show one bit of care for its rider. It reared and then thundered onward after shaking Hastings loose from the stirrups. All of this took place in a matter of seconds, ending with Hastings hitting the boardwalk on his side.
Since he already had a firm grip on the gunman’s arm, Nate stomped his boot into the other man’s armpit and wrenched with all of his might. Hastings let out a pained yelp as his arm popped out of joint. After that, it only took one good twist for Nate to turn Hastings into a wailing, pathetic creature writhing on the boardwalk and pleading in a string of nonsense syllables.
Nate bent down to take the pistol that Hastings had just dropped and collected his horse, which was still fidgeting nearby. As soon as he was in the saddle, Nate saw another gunman who’d been near the wagon rein his horse to a stop while sighting along the top of a Peacemaker. Two shots blasted through the air, both of which were fired from behind the rider to drill fresh holes through his upper chest. His eyes rolled up into his head and he started to loll forward before he was pulled back over the opposite side of the horse. Pete looked over the top of the horse, still holding his smoking pistol in hand.
“I suppose you aim to ride straight at them like a damn fool?” Pete asked.
Nate was situated now and had gotten the horse under control. “More or less, yeah,” he said.
“Just try not to get too close. I’d rather not be the one to hand Angelica your ashes.”
“Don’t worry,” Nate said as he snapped the reins and raced after the wagon. “I’m sure Deaugrey wouldn’t mind doing it for you.”