What remained of Diamond City’s men folk was a broken group who had still not fully accepted the fact that nearly a tenth of their fellow citizens had already been slain by the thirteen outlaws who had unexpectedly ridden into their midst. What remained were the very young, the very old and those in-between who posed little or no threat to anyone. For these men had no knowledge of killing, unlike the outlaws who had taken over their town. These people were just ordinary hard-working souls who did not deserve the plague in human form that had infected their remote settlement. As they tentatively moved around the blood-splattered streets, trying to go about their daily tasks, they never once took their eyes from the wide-open door of the sun-bleached hotel.
‘Look at ’em, boys,’ Jardine muttered, glancing briefly out into the bright street. ‘I never seen so many terrified folks before. The trouble is, have we killed too many of their kin to be able ever to turn our backs on the survivors?’
‘It weren’t us that done all the killin’, Henry,’ Skeet Bodine corrected.
‘Yeah, I know.’ Henry Jardine knew that things had to change within the tightly grouped gang of outlaws whom he had led to Diamond City. For although he had guided them from one profitable bank- and stage-robbery to another, he knew that the three Darrow brothers had a different agenda from any of the rest of the outlaws. They simply could not resist killing and Jardine knew that it was only a matter of time before they turned their weaponry on him and the rest of the outlaws.
Jardine himself was no stranger to killing, but he had always killed for a purpose, the main one being that he simply wanted to cover his tracks and eliminate any evidence of his crimes. That was why he had killed the sheriff and allowed the telegraph worker to be maimed to stop him sending any more messages for help to the outside world.
Jardine was well aware that even he had fallen into the trap of self-delusion that once the notorious bounty hunter Iron Eyes had disappeared three-quarters of a year earlier, the odds of their never being hunted down and brought to account had swung in his fellow outlaws’ favor.
But the trail behind the gang was littered with death: death that had no rhyme nor reason. Not even to Jardine. The Darrows had simply allowed the pleasure of killing to overwhelm them. Now they were even dangerous to their fellow outlaws as well as those whom they saw as their enemies.
As the Darrows continued to take their pleasures with the dozen or more females they had dragged up to their rooms above the saloon, Jardine had gathered the rest of his men together in the hotel opposite.
Each and every one of them knew why Jardine had called them together so abruptly. The time had come for the Darrow brothers and the rest of the gang to go their separate ways, but they all knew that men like Toke, Fern and Jade were not the kind to vex. There was no reasoning with their breed. The Darrows had relied on their expertise with their arsenal of weaponry far too long ever to consider a simpler, less bloody alternative.
Skeet Bodine toyed with his guns as he stared out through the large window in the hotel foyer. He was there to watch out for any sign of Toke, Fern or Jade Darrow emerging from the saloon and to warn his fellow outlaws.
Jardine rested against the large desk and stared around the faces of his band of seasoned killers and robbers. Most could be trusted to do as they were told, yet even a few of these outlaws had been infected by the sheer brutality of the Darrows.
‘I want you all to think about our situation here, boys,’ Jardine started. ‘We have to get rid of Toke and his brothers.’
A nervous murmur went around the other outlaws. They all knew what Jardine meant and yet none seemed willing to talk about the problem.
Eventually Pop Lomax stepped forward and rested his knuckles on his gun-grips.
‘Henry’s right. We gotta kill them varmints before they get us all strung up.’
Another muffled noise went around the room.
‘We have to try and get rid of them one way or another,’ Cole added. ‘But how do we do it without them critters turning their guns on us?’
Snake Billow shrugged and glanced through the open doorway.
‘We could give them a share of the money we’ve got stashed in the bank. Maybe they’d just take it and head on out of this damn town.’
Clay Moore laughed.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Me neither, Clay.’ Jardine sighed heavily. ‘I figure them boys have tasted so much blood over the last couple of months that they’ll just draw their guns and start shootin’, even if we just mention them leaving Diamond City.’
Doc Weatherspoon walked to the window and looked up at the open windows above the saloon veranda. The sound of screaming females had not eased up for more than an hour. It was starting to get the veteran outlaw down.
‘There was a day when I’d have taken on all three of those boys in a good old fashioned shoot-out. But now I’m doubtful if any of us could get the better of them. We could bushwhack ’em, I guess. But that takes a lot of planning when your chosen targets are scum like the Darrows. They know every damn trick in the book and have used every one of them over the years. How can you trick that kinda critter?’
‘Ain’t possible.’ Jonah Clayton shook his head.
‘We could just get our scatterguns and wait for them to come out of the saloon, boys,’ Bodine suggested. ‘They’ll be a tad tuckered after servicing all them females. We could just give ’em both barrels.’
Luther Cole ran the palm of his hand over his bald head.
‘Skeet’s got a point. That might just work. Half a ton of buckshot might solve our problems.’
Jardine sucked on his cigar thoughtfully.
‘I don’t think so. I reckon it’d be a fair bet that they’d kill most of us before we had time to pull back the hammers.’
Cole exhaled loudly as frustration gnawed at his guts.
‘Then how are we gonna get the better of them?’
Jardine smiled wryly.
‘I’ve got me an idea, Luther. What if we let the law do it for us?’
‘How do ya figure we could arrange that, Henry?’ Cole asked with more than a little curiosity in his deep voice.
‘We send a wire to the marshal in Waco,’ Jardine explained.
‘Ain’t you forgot that I chopped the telegraph worker’s fingers off?’ Cole patted his coat pocket where he still kept the dismembered digits. ‘How can we send any messages anyplace?’
Henry Jardine looked smugly at Cole.
‘I know how to handle a telegraph key, Luther. I spent me a very profitable summer working for Eastern Union once. You can make a lotta money if you can handle a key.’
‘What ya talkin’ about?’
‘We are thinkin’ of heading down into Waco and trying our hand at robbing one of their juiciest banks, right?’ Jardine looked through the smoke that trailed up from his cigar. ‘Then that’s what we do. But we have to send a few boys down there to get an idea of the lie of the land first. What if we send Toke and his brothers?’
‘And?’ Lomax scratched his beard.
‘And we send a wire to the law down in Waco telling them they got uninvited guests coming their way.’ Jardine tapped the ash from his cigar. ‘They’ll get rid of the Darrows for us.’
Red Clayton rubbed the side of his nose with the barrel of his gun. Then he looked at Jardine.
‘Do you figure that they’re dumb enough to fall for that?’
Henry Jardine pushed himself away from the desk and dropped his cigar on the floor. He crushed it beneath his boot and then moved forward.
‘We’ll soon find out. Here they come.’
The outlaws inside the hotel foyer turned their gaze upon the three Darrow brothers as they came triumphantly out of the saloon together. They had left the females still crying up in their rooms.
Toke Darrow drew one of his guns and fired at a group of men down the end of the street. One of the men fell as the bullet tore through his shoulder. Toke roared with laughter as he led his grinning siblings into the hotel. All of the outlaws seemed to divert their eyes from the brothers, except Jardine.
He alone felt no fear as he walked to the smug outlaws.
‘Me and the rest of the gang have been talkin’ about striking at Waco, Toke,’ Jardine said.
‘About time, Henry,’ Toke responded, sliding his gun back into its holster.
‘But we’ve bin trying to figure which of us boys should go down there and get the lie of the land. I was thinking that maybe Doc and Skeet,’ Jardine lied.
‘What about me and my brothers?’ Toke rested against the desk and rubbed the sweat from his features. ‘I figure we’ll be better at judging the place than any of these old-timers.’
Jardine nodded.
‘Yeah, I reckon you’re right, Toke.’
Toke Darrow boomed with laughter. Soon the entire foyer of the hotel resounded with men laughing. Jardine walked around his fellow outlaws, knowing that they all had exactly the same thought as he had himself.
‘We ride at dawn, boys,’ Darrow told his brothers. ‘Waco ain’t gonna know what hit it after we arrive.’
The rest of the outlaws started laughing. Yet their laughter came from a different place.