“Why didn’t you pop out of the outhouse and shoot that lunatic earlier?” Natalie Chandler could not be seen from the road. She shouted above the clatter created by Doreen Culliver’s rig as it rode toward downtown Henderson. Natalie rested flat in the wagon bed with the crown of her head touching the wall behind Doreen’s seat. The two made eye contact whenever Doreen leaned back and looked down into the bed.
“Gun jammed,” Doreen said nonchalantly. “I waited outside the window near where you shot that first feller. I was waiting for him to come running down those stairs—and he did. Only when I pulled the triggers nothing happened. I would’ve blown the bastard right into the fireplace then and there.”
Doreen, her hair in a bonnet, easily passed as a churchgoer as her wagon bobbed along the road at an easy pace. Should she see someone riding opposite, she’d reach behind her and knock on the wood above Natalie’s head, alerting her to cover herself and the baby with blankets she’d brought from the house. Noah and Harrison went so far as to reload the bed with food to make the blanketed bundle in the middle look more inconspicuous. Jake put the side of his head to his momma’s chest and let the gentle rocking of the wagon lull him to sleep. Just in case things got hairy, Doreen kept her satchel open and next to her, making it easy to pull her gun.
She followed Harrison, who retrieved Noah’s rig, which carried Sarah and Isaac in a fashion similar to Natalie and Jake. Sarah kept Delbert Johnson’s gun by her side, while Harrison could grab Noah’s shotgun stowed in the driver’s compartment. The ride seemed smooth. Still, they traveled the open countryside and remained exposed. All they desired was for Henderson’s first few buildings to appear on the horizon. The first would be Doctor Richardson’s office, and, hopefully, sanctuary. Somewhere, unseen in the brush and behind fir trees, Noah rode Wilbur and kept an eye on the nascent wagon train.
“So then why’d you let him shoot me and kick me for as long as he did? I mean, the gun did work,” Natalie said.
“I took up in the outhouse to figure out what was wrong with the damn thing. Believe me, I’d have busted out of there in a heartbeat if I was certain it would’ve fired. But I wasn’t. I had a clear shot at him through a hole in the outhouse. I was worried he’d see the barrel sticking out at him. Good thing it blended in. No matter how hard I pulled the trigger? Nothing. The hammers wouldn’t budge. It was torture in there watching him abuse you like that.”
“I see. I really do. And thank you for everything.”
“No need for that.”
“No, thank you not just for shooting him, but for what you did to yourself so you could plug him.”
“Oh, you mean me jumpin’ in the shithouse? Hey, survival instincts kicked in. I saw him take a gander in my direction and couldn’t risk it when I saw him point his gun at me. All I can say is this: What on earth do you people eat?”
Natalie and Doreen exploded into laughter.
“I don’t know, maybe me plopping in there rattled something loose in the shotgun. I lowered and re-cocked the hammers right before he poked his head over the hole. You know the rest. And I’d do it again if it meant saving you.”
“That’s sweet, seeing you barely even know me, Doreen.”
“I don’t know you, but I can tell you and Noah are decent. That’s enough for me. I just wish there were more of your type around this place.”
“That makes two of us.” Natalie waited for her to continue the chat but saw Doreen focusing straight ahead—at Harrison, she presumed—and saw a look of worry.
“He stopped.” Doreen, likewise, reined in her horse.
“Why?”
“Don’t know. He’s looking around. I think he saw something.”
“What’s around here?” Natalie tried lifting herself up to see.
“Stay down.”
Natalie let her body go limp. She stroked Jake’s head to keep him asleep. And she listened.
“He’s standing on the seat, having a look around.”
“Do you see Noah?” Natalie followed Doreen’s lead and spoke softly. “Do you see anything?”
Doreen rose to gauge the land.
“I don’t.”
“He’s got to be watching.” Natalie said.
“I would think so.”
“What’s it like out there?”
“Just brush on both sides with forests bordering on the far ends,” Doreen said. “Noah must be in the woods. His head would be popping up through the grass. He’d give himself away for sure.”
“What if Harrison sees someone in the grass?”
Indeed Harrison stared at one particular patch of the field to his left, craning his head to discern something. Without looking, he bent to his knees and fished around to find the shotgun. He rose, gripping the gun, resting the barrel on his shoulder. Doreen reached into her satchel and held the revolver with both hands, letting the heavy gun dangle in front of her.
Noah aimed his Winchester as if he had something in its sight—but he didn’t. He had tied Wilbur to a tree in the woods once he realized something bothered Harrison enough to stop the rig. Now he stood near the forest’s edge, tucked behind thick trees for cover, to Harrison’s right side. All was quiet in the woods.
He moved the rifle point from Harrison back to Doreen—his finger off the trigger—hoping their actions would direct him to, well, he couldn’t tell. The grass stood about four feet tall, so he’d have a clean shot at whoever stood—if they weren’t obscured by the wagons—but even then he balked.
What if it’s just some kids out playing? Or someone hunting? Please, Harrison, move on.
But he didn’t. He hopped down from the driver’s seat, out of Noah’s view. He switched back to Doreen, who raised her gun to where he expected Harrison to be looking.
Lord, let this be some kind of wild animal that’s worrying Harrison.
Noah lowered his rifle and looked behind him. Nobody was sneaking up on him. He heard nothing around him, not the rustle of leaves, chirps of birds or scurrying of critters. And then the horses went berserk.
Doreen tried calming hers as it reared and whinnied. Harrison scrambled back into the seat to grab his horses’ reins.
“Whoa, boys!”
Noah heard panic in Harrison. Both Sarah and Nat sat themselves up to witness the commotion, and as the women’s heads popped into his view, two shadows rose from the fields fronting Noah and charged the wagons.
A third one leapt like a frog from the opposite field over Doreen’s wagon, swiping her mid-air, and landing with her in the grassland closest to Noah.
He burst from the woods, awkwardly aiming his rifle at the two men running before him. A fourth one leapt from the grass into Harrison’s wagon and stood next to the terrified deputy—terrified because Harrison’s mouth went slack.
He’s seeing what I saw behind Doreen’s house, Noah thought.
“No, don’t!” Sarah screamed as it backhanded Harrison’s face with force enough to knock him out of the wagon.
Noah, stopped, aimed, and fired at Harrison’s attacker, who fell backward and into the field. Noah turned back to the two men who now tore through the field toward Noah, screeching like barn owls.
“Don’t kill him!” he head Sarah screaming.
Noah got off two shots, hitting one in the chest. And as he fell, his partner slammed into Noah, wrapping sinewy arms around him, bringing him to the ground. Noah’s head thudded, and before the pain registered, his pursuer slapped away Noah’s Stetson, wrapped ten incredibly strong fingers around his skull, lifted and then rammed it into the rock-hard dirt. And then it left him.
“Leave us alone!” Sarah still pleaded. “Leave us all alone!”
Noah heard women shrieking and babies wailing in his last moments of lucidity before the darkness came.