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The buzzards’ activities couldn’t hide the fact that the dead men had been shot.
“These men have to be the merchants who found you,” Mary said.
“I agree, although it’s less certain who found them,” Bradley said from the back of the wagon.
Mary kneeled beside the bodies and murmured a prayer, while Bradley turned to the boulders that marked the entrance to Dead Man’s Canyon where Corbin had alighted on the way to Bear Rock. This observation reinforced his view that his quest would end where it had begun at Delano’s house.
When they moved on, Mary sat hunched over on the seat and her expression was more troubled than he’d ever seen her show before. Even when he drew his gun and laid it on his lap, she only muttered in disapproval. She approached Delano’s house from the side and pulled up between the house and the barn.
“I’ll talk with Delano,” she said while leaning forward. “You play with your gun and try not to hurt any rocks.”
He shook his head. “I know you’re a nun and you don’t need protection, but if Delano’s in there, he probably killed those two merchants. I’ll go.”
“You won’t,” she said.
She appeared ready to say more, but then she jumped down from the seat, deducing correctly that moving quickly would defeat him with greater ease than words.
“Be careful,” Bradley called after her as he struggled to drag himself across the base of the wagon.
She stopped, making him think that his first kind words had surprised her, but she was looking beyond the house at a grave. A man was tied to a stake that lay over the hole, although who he was and whether he was dead or alive, Bradley couldn’t tell. With the sight rooting Mary to the spot, Bradley had enough time to clamber out of the wagon and shuffle on to join her.
“You won’t stop me from helping that man,” she said.
“I wouldn’t try, but. . . .” Bradley trailed off as the door swung open.
He had expected Delano to emerge, but to his surprise Corbin paced out, alive and well and with his gun already aimed at him. Bradley scrambled to raise his gun, but he fumbled over the unfamiliar movement and he’d yet to sight his target when Corbin fired, slicing a slug into the dirt a foot before Bradley’s right boot.
“Drop your gun, or the next shot takes you between the eyes,” Corbin said.
“Who are you?” Mary demanded, as Bradley opened his hand and raised his left arm.
“That’s Corbin Metz,” Bradley said.
“I was addressing him not you.” Mary took a pace toward Corbin, seemingly oblivious to the gun he’d aimed at them. “He can also tell me who’s lying over that grave.”
Corbin turned to the grave and chuckled. “That’s my brother Delano, although right now he’s somewhat confused about his identity.”
––––––––
“I’m Corbin Metz,” the man said. “I’m an evil gunslinger. I shoot up innocent men. I steal silver. I desecrate graves.”
While he repeated his litany, he strained against his bonds, as he had done throughout the long day. He hoped he could drag himself free of the ropes and curl up in the grave, the only place a man like him deserved to be.
The fact he was evil was bad enough, but finding out his brother wasn’t a decent man either had destroyed his last vestige of hope. Even worse, the memories that his brother had helped him rekindle had grown and he could now remember more.
All of it was bad. After his brother had left him the first time, he had dug up this grave and extracted a coffin full of silver. He had been angry and he’d reburied the silver. Later, two men had brought his brother back.
His brother had demanded that he return the silver and when he’d refused, a fight had ensued. He had been hit on the head and his brother had chased the two men off. Confused and disorientated, he had fled with them.
His brother had pursued them and, in an ambush, he had killed the other two men while bringing down his horse. Then his brother had demanded again to know what he’d done with the silver, but he had passed out.
Later, he’d come to with his memory in so many tatters that only now could he reassemble some of his past. Even so, he couldn’t remember all the bad things his brother had said he’d done, but he figured he’d remember them soon, if he wasn’t lucky and death claimed him first.
He strained again, jutting his chest and head down to the grave that he wanted to lie in for eternity. To his surprise, a creak sounded. Then the stake snapped and he jerked down for a foot before he halted.
He dangled, trapped within the entangling rope until, with another crack, he went clattering down into the bottom of the grave. He lay on his chest with the two halves of the broken stake lying on his back and the rope spread loosely around him.
He was so relieved he hugged the dirt, enjoying the coolness, but his relief was short-lived. The terrible truth about the man he was weighed down on him. So he clawed at the sides of the hole, seeking to drag earth over his body and hasten the end.
He was no gopher and he struggled to loosen the hard dirt. So he rolled over on to his back and faced the rectangle of light. The sky was now a twilight, blood red.
“I’m Corbin Metz,” he said. “I’m an evil man.”
The declaration made his heart race and a kernel of anger grew in his black soul. He nurtured it and let it grow until with a burst of energy he fought his way out from the rope and tossed the broken parts of the stake aside.
He came bounding out from the grave and stood on the side gasping in his breath. Every bone ached, but his head no longer troubled him giving him greater clarity than he could ever remember.
“My brother’s an evil man, too,” he said.
He chuckled, imagining the revenge he could enact on him to repay the beatings. Images came to him of the atrocities he could commit, as he enjoyed the power that came when he accepted no limits.
For that revenge, he needed a weapon. He didn’t have one, but for a man as devious as he was, that was no problem. He slapped a hand on the bottom half of the pointed stake, hoisted it off the ground and held it at chest level. Then he set off for the house with his gait determined, the stake aimed forward and a twisted smile on his lips.
––––––––
“I have duties to perform,” Mary declared. “They don’t include sitting around in your house all night.”
Bradley winced, expecting swift retribution, but Corbin merely shrugged. He had brought them into the house, consisting of a single room furnished with only a table and two chairs along with a cot in the corner.
Throughout the afternoon, he had considered them earnestly, his silence seemingly designed to encourage them to talk, but Bradley hadn’t wanted to risk engaging him in conversation and hasten the end.
Instead, he’d sat propped up against the side wall trying to stay awake while wishing he was back in the mission enjoying his bed and suffering Mary’s disapproving looks. For her part, Mary had directed her ire at Corbin, which he had ignored with ease.
“You can leave when I have the answers I need,” Corbin said.
“You’ll only get your answers after you put down your gun.”
Bradley groaned, imagining the bad direction this stand-off would now take.
“I’ll put down my gun after I have my answers.”
Mary pointed at the window where twilight was shrouding the shutters with the last light of the day.
“I told Deputy Crane in Bear Rock where I was going, so this can only turn out badly for you.”
Bradley’s eyelids had been drooping, but he snapped his eyes open in surprise when Mary lied. Corbin had a pained expression that Bradley had seen often recently.
“What must I do to stop you prattling on?”
“Let me tend to your brother. He’ll need aid after being tied to that stake all afternoon.”
“I can’t relent when he’s close to telling me what I need to know.”
“Which is?”
Corbin sighed before he replied with the weary air of a man who had been dragged into a conversation that he didn’t know how to end.
“After the raid in Bear Rock I buried the silver here. When I moved on, Delano dug it up and reburied it. So when he tells me where, everyone can go.”
“You won’t resolve your troubles by making your brother suffer.” Mary snorted. “If you won’t let me go to him, bring him here.”
“Delano’s not suffering.” Corbin licked his lips and laughed. “He thinks he’s me.”
For once Mary struggled to find a reply, but as Bradley reckoned that when she did, it wouldn’t help the situation, he spoke up for the first time since they’d been taken prisoner.
“The last time I saw Delano he thought you were innocent,” he said with a hand held to his head to support it. “Why would he now make such a ridiculous claim?”
Corbin tapped his temple. “He lost his memory. I’ve been helping him get it back so he can tell me what he did with the silver. I reckoned a few hints that he’s not the decent man he thinks he is might persuade him to talk.”
“Doing that to your own brother when he only wanted to help you is worse than anything else you’ve ever done.”
Corbin grunted with anger and walked across the room to stand over Bradley.
“Perhaps it is, but that only reminds me that back in Red Creek, you tried to kill me for the bounty.”
Bradley raised his chin with defiance. “Do what you want with me, but let her go.”
This offer made Mary get to her feet and gesture at Corbin.
“I’m not leaving without him, and I’m not going without you letting me help your brother,” she said.
“Any more demands?” Corbin asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.
“Something to eat and drink would be welcome.”
Corbin winced, so Bradley gave an understanding frown. Then, with an aggrieved wave of the hand, Corbin headed to the door.
“I’ll bring him here,” he said. “Perhaps seeing what happened to the last man to defy me will help his memory return.”
“Be quick about it,” Mary called after him while shooing him away.
Her comment made Corbin snarl as he threw open the door, but then he did a double-take. From his position at the side of the room, Bradley couldn’t work out what had surprised him so his first inkling of what was outside came when an inhuman howl of anguish sounded.
Then Delano came bounding in, no longer looking the assured man he had been when he’d met him in the Sagebrush saloon. His eyes were manic and his clothes were bloody and ragged.
Clutched under an arm was a pointed stake, which he pressed to Corbin’s chest and then drove on. His speed made Corbin back away with his arms flailing, but he couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the stake that jabbed into his chest.
Corbin tumbled over on to his back and, with the stake caught up in his clothing, Delano went down with him. A wet crunching noise sounded making Mary wince. When Delano rolled off his brother, Bradley winced, too. The stake had driven down through Corbin’s chest, transfixing him to the floor.
“I only wanted the silver and to kill Victor,” Corbin murmured, blood bubbling on his lips. “I’d have let you go.”
“I don’t care,” Delano said, getting to his knees. “I’m an evil man. You said so.”
Corbin raised a hand to the stake, but his strength gave out and his head flopped to the side. Delano poked his ribs, his tense expression defying Corbin to fight back, but he lay still, the six inch wide stake that pinned him to the floor confirming that this time he was dead.
Delano picked up Corbin’s gun. As he hefted it, Bradley crawled toward him, but Delano raised a hand and a few moments later Bradley heard what had interested him. Outside, hoofbeats were approaching. Mary had been moving to kneel beside Corbin, but she headed to the window.
“It’s Victor Greystone and his heathen men,” she reported as the riders drew up. She turned to Bradley. “You explain the truth to Delano while I deal with him.”
“You won’t,” Bradley said.
Mary shook a finger at him in a way that said he was in no fit state to confront anyone, but Delano made the first move and leaped to his feet with Corbin’s gun held aloft.
“I’ll take him on,” he proclaimed. “I’ll take them all on. I’m Corbin Metz and I run from no man.”
“You’re not Corbin,” Mary said, speaking slowly as she walked toward him. “Your brother treated you badly and you’re confused.”
“Stay away. I won’t hesitate to kill a nun.” Delano turned to the door. “Neither will I hesitate before I take on these men.”
He brushed past Mary on his way to the door, which he threw open to stand defiantly in the doorway.
“Don’t,” Bradley said from the floor. “You’re no gunslinger.”
Delano shook his head and took a pace forward, his gun swinging down to pick out the men outside. He was as slow to take aim as Bradley had expected and he’d yet to sight anyone when gunfire tore out.
A few seconds later he came staggering back into the house with the gun falling from his grasp and his chest holed. His expression was one of open-mouthed surprise, which turned to a pained grimace when another burst of gunfire blasted into his back making him topple over sideways.
“It seems I’m not,” he said.
As he’d fallen away from the doorway, Bradley crawled across the floor to his side.
“You can’t die not knowing the truth,” he said. “You’re not the outlaw Corbin. You’re Delano, a decent man.”
Delano nodded, his eyes glazing. “I am. I remember. I remember it all. I. . . .”
Delano exhaled a long breath and Bradley thought he wouldn’t speak again, but then with his eyes closing he beckoned him to come closer using a bent finger. Bradley leaned over him and Delano whispered to him, his voice a light breeze that calmed and then silenced.
“What did he say?” Mary asked from the other side of the door.
Bradley ignored her as the gun Delano had dropped in the doorway was three yards away and even in his weak state, he reckoned he could reach it. He took a deep breath and prepared to take his chances, but before he could move, Victor stepped into the doorway and slammed a heavy boot down on the gun.
He sneered at Delano and then Bradley with equal contempt before turning to the skewered Corbin. A wide smile appeared.
“So it’s over,” he declared. Then he gestured at the men outside. “Put them all in here and then we’ll burn this place to the ground.”