Chapter Fifteen

 

"Jak and Dean have got horses rounded up and waiting for us just outside of Hazard," Ryan said to J.B. He sat at the table in the back of the gun shop. "If we make it that far, we can get out of here with a whole skin."

 

"Sounds to me like your skin is the only one you're worried about."

 

Ryan looked at the woman, remembering her name with effort. "Anna, my skin and those of my friends are the only ones I ever worry about."

 

From the looks on the faces of Tinker Phillips and his sons, Ryan's views didn't sit well.

 

"If it hadn't been for us," Anna protested, "you bastards wouldn't have been outfitted as well as you're going to be."

 

Ryan knew that was true. J.B. had already shown him the ammo that Phillips had contributed to the cause. He fixed the woman with his hard stare. "Just because I'm making plans to take care of my people doesn't mean I'm leaving you out in the open with a busted wheel. You expect somebody to come riding into this town like some kind of vid hero and chill Kirkland?"

 

"Been nights I dreamed of nothing else, mister," one of the men commented.

 

Ryan shook his head. "You people have been cooped up in this retreat too long. I just chilled two men to get in here and talk to J.B. Kirkland's going to know about it, and he's going to know pretty much who did it. I don't see him letting us walk away after that."

 

"And he has Mildred," J.B. put in. "Kind of makes everything personal," He cleaned his glasses and put them back on, the steel rims hard and shiny. "We aren't going to leave without her."

 

"We're going to take Kirkland on," Ryan said, "because we don't have a choice. If we chill him, that's fine, but it's going to be because it happened, not because we planned on it."

 

Anna sat back from the table. Her right hand was below the table, out of sight.

 

Ryan didn't doubt for a moment that the woman had a blaster on him, just as he knew J.B. had her covered while he sat beside her. "If you people want your freedomor this ville as your ownthat's up to you. Fireblast! You're still going to have to go through Kirkland's sec team to do it."

 

"Man's right," Phillips said. "It isn't his fight. Never was. Never will be." He massaged his hump. "How do you plan on getting the woman back?"

 

Ryan swiveled his gaze to the old gunsmith. "I'm going to have to take a hand in Kirkland's game. If we try to run, I don't see that we're going to get past his sec team without getting run to ground. Even with horses."

 

"So what do you have in mind?"

 

"Make him bring his sec force back into the ville to contain an insurrection," Ryan answered. "Provided you can persuade a few people to join up."

 

Phillips shook his head. "Don't see how that's possible. There's the plague to consider."

 

"The plague's a damn lie," Ryan growled.

 

"I got your word on that," Phillips said, "and I'm mostly willing to believe you. But those people out there, they've seen plague victims come in for a few years. They believe. Give me a week or so, mebbe I could make believers out of them. But not in one night. And we've only got half of that left."

 

Ryan pushed up from the table. "I don't aim to wait, Tinker. Kirkland's going to shove it right up to the line in the morning, and I'm not going to back down from him. You want to make a difference, you'll be ready to take a stand, too."

 

Phillips shook his head. "Got to think about that."

 

"You do that," Ryan said. "I've got to get back to my people. J.B.?"

 

"I'll be along in a bit. Another hour or two, and I'll have enough shotgun loads for the M-4000 to last for a while." He looked up at Ryan. "If you hear anything about Mildred"

 

"I'll come myself," Ryan promised.

 

"You going looking?"

 

"If Doc comes up with something we can work on."

 

"You'll let me know?"

 

"Any way it goes, you'll be the next man I tell," Ryan answered. He took his leave from the gun shop, feeling the heat of the woman's angered gaze.

 

In a way she was right. He was thinking only of his own skin. And knowing that didn't feel comfortable.

 

He walked out onto the boardwalk, making certain the dead deputy across the street hadn't been replaced. There was a time when he rode with the Trader on War Wag One he might have taken a firmer stance in Hazard. The Trader wouldn't have put up with what was going on in the ville.

 

Any way it went down in the morningif things saw fit to wait that longthere would be more than a few people catching the last train to the coast.

 

 

 

DOC MANAGED the recoil from the Le Mat with a little trouble. He'd squeezed off the shot before he was truly ready, and there had been the matter of footing. Still he readied another blast as the echoes of the first slammed against his eardrums in the tight confines of the room.

 

One of the two men broke away from the second trapdoor above, screaming hoarsely that he was hit and bleeding badly. The second man shoved the snout of a revolver into the hole and squeezed off rounds as fast as he could.

 

Doc dodged back, feeling one of the bullets yank at his coattails, creating another mending job for a time when things were decidedly calmer.

 

The pistol bullets bounced and whined from the walls a few times before expending the energy that propelled them. Glass containers broke, spilling smells and foodstuffs to the floor. The light trickling down from above was barely enough to let Doc see Mildred taking cover across the room.

 

Knowing they didn't have time to spend exchanging shots with the men up above, Doc glanced upward and saw the man above shoving his arm into the trapdoor area again. The old man brought up the Le Mat and pushed it into the mouth of the bottom trapdoor. He dropped the hammer on the round, aiming for the wall, unable to fire at the gunner without exposing himself.

 

The double-aught shot bounced off the wall and smashed into the gunner's arm. He wailed in pain.

 

Doc readied another load into the Le Mat. "Are you ready, Dr. Wyeth?" He had to shout to even hear himself.

 

"Yes," Mildred roared back.

 

"Then follow me, and pray that the Almighty continues to look after fools." Doc grabbed the ladder and bounded up the rungs. He kept the Le Mat in one fist, managing the climb with the other.

 

Up above, the second trapdoor remained open and free of gunmen.

 

At the top of the ladder, Doc made his way to the second trapdoor and climbed onward. He stayed low when he climbed out at the barn floor level again.

 

One of Kirkland's men lay to one side, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling. His chest was a bloody ruin where the initial double-aught charge had caught him.

 

Doc paused, hunkered down and cut his eyes around the barn. His hearing was still hampered from all the crash and din that had been released in the underground room. Then he spotted the fleet-footed shadow speeding toward the barn doors. He lifted the Le Mat and fired again.

 

The shotgun charge caught the man in the back and hurtled him forward, sprawling him out almost within reaching distance of the doors.

 

Doc turned and offered his hand to Mildred as she climbed out of the trapdoor. "My hand, dear lady, while I have the strength in me to help."

 

Mildred grabbed his hand and scrambled out of the hole. "Now what?"

 

Doc raised his eyebrows. "You propose that I had an actual plan in all of this?"

 

"Would have been a great help, Doc." Mildred stripped the blaster from the corpse and started moving toward the tack and equipment area.

 

"I had thought of taking the horses," Doc admitted, "but I was uncertain what shape you might be in."

 

"I'm all for getting the hell out of here." Mildred took a pair of bridles from the wall and tossed one to Doc. "Everybody else Kirkland has at this place is going to be all over us like flies on shit."

 

"Those," Doc assured Mildred as he crossed the stable area to one of the horses, "are my sentiments exactly." He thrust the Le Mat into his belt, then grabbed the mane of the horse in the stall beside him.

 

The animal tossed its head a few times, but came into the bridle easily enough. Despite the ringing in his ears, Doc thought he could hear men yelling outside. He forced the bit between the horse's teeth, then fit the bridle strap behind the horse's ears.

 

Mildred led her chosen mount from the stall it was in, and swung up onto its bare back. The horse bucked for a moment, but she fought it into submission, holding the reins tight.

 

Doc clambered onto his horse's back, feeling the ridge of its backbone shove insistently into his crotch. The ride definitely wasn't going to be one of comfort.

 

"Ready?" Mildred asked.

 

"As much as I dislike these animals, I feel I have little choice."

 

"Then ride!" Mildred flicked the reins against the horse's neck, causing it to break into a gallop. She headed toward the barn doors, left slightly ajar by the men who had entered the structure after Doc.

 

Struggling to lock his legs around the creature he rode, Doc followed the woman. He didn't think she knew the way back into Hazard where the hotel was.

 

They burst through the barn doors almost neck and neck. Mildred and her mount slammed into the door and knocked it open still farther. Shots greeted them when they emerged from the barn, drumming a rapid tattoo across the doors.

 

Doc thrust the Le Mat at two men running from the back door of the manor house, then pulled the trigger. The shotgun blast drove them backward.

 

Mildred's borrowed blaster cracked harshly, dropping another man shooting from a second-story window toward the back of the house.

 

Doc managed the manipulations that moved the barrel holding the cylinder of .44 rounds into play.

 

He fired at targets, not really hoping to hit any of them, but wanting them thinking he was armed.

 

"Which way?" Mildred asked.

 

Doc kicked his horse into greater speed. Kirkland's hostile blasters faded quickly behind him. "This way." He led her back through the rutted roads of Hazard.

 

"Got company," Mildred yelled up.

 

Twisting, Doc glanced back behind them, spotting five riders traveling along in their wake. A bullet ripped through the air above his head. "Then we have no choice but to make haste."

 

 

 

POUNDING HOOVES caught Ryan's attention. He came to a halt beside the hotel, getting ready to clamber up to his room, then turned and glanced back down the street.

 

Two riders rode hard for the hotel, followed by a handful of others. Moonlight glinted from Doc's silvery mane and from some of the lighter beads worked into Mildred's hair.

 

"Krysty!" Ryan called, raising his voice.

 

"I see them, lover."

 

Ryan pulled the Steyr to his shoulder, putting himself against the hotel. He centered the sights over the lead rider of the five pursuers, putting the crosshairs on the man's face. He guessed that Doc and Mildred were still seventy yards out, and the men following them were about another twenty after that.

 

Detonations cracked, and Ryan saw Doc's horse stagger slightly before recovering itself. Changing his mind, Ryan put the crosshairs on the lead rider's horse. He let out half a breath and squeezed the trigger.

 

The bullet sped true, crashing through the animal's forehead and spewing the contents of its brainpan over the rider. Reflexes gone, the horse tumbled in the street, throwing the rider in one direction while it fell in another. The falling horse took out another rider and mount, and became a hazard for the rest.

 

Then a barrage of fire chopped into the riders chasing Doc and Mildred. Ryan recognized Krysty's and Jak's blasters, then the high-pitched report of Dean's 9 mm Browning joined in.

 

The line of riders wilted at once. But more gunmen joined them from the gaudy house down the street.

 

Fifteen yards out, Doc's horse was shot out from under him. The old man and the dead animal went down together, tumbling across the rutted street.

 

Ryan lifted the Steyr and blasted two men who tried to urge their mounts over the downed riders. Two horses with empty saddles ducked into the nearest side street.

 

Amazingly Doc scrambled to his feet and ran toward Ryan, looking none the worse for wear. "By the Three Kennedys!" the old man yelled. "I thought the next thing these old ears would be hearing was sweet refrains from Saint Gabriel's horn."

 

"Get to the hotel, Doc," Ryan ordered. He kept covering fire going, but the return blasterfire was building, as well. Bullets thudded into the wall nearby.

 

Mildred rode her horse onto the wooden boardwalk, then abandoned it in front of the doors. She tried the doorknob, but it didn't open. Before she could move, though, Jak was there, opening the door and letting her in. Doc thumped across the boardwalk, as well, keeping his head low.

 

"Ryan," Jak called.

 

Wheeling, Ryan sprinted to the door and pushed through. The albino teenager fired past him at Kirkland's sec team.

 

Inside the foyer, Ryan spotted one of the dead deputies sprawled across a sofa in the waiting room. His throat had been slit from ear to ear, and the blood patterns across the cream-colored antimacassar suggested that he'd been held in place while he died.

 

"Mildred," Dean called from the second-floor landing.

 

The woman glanced up in time to catch the big blaster Dean tossed down, then she caught the box of shells that followed. With grim efficiency, she broke the pistol open and checked the loads. Then she snapped the ZKR 551's cylinder. "Thanks, Dean. Where did you find it?"

 

"Your room," Dean replied. "Reckon the guys who took you overlooked it."

 

Ryan reloaded the Steyr from loose rounds inside his shirt. The blasterfire coming from outside continued unabated, letting him know the attackers weren't going to give up easily. The thick walls of the hotel kept the bullets from coming through, but several of them punched through the windows, ravaging the decor.

 

"What the hell is going on?" Aunt Maim rolled into view, propelled by Jocelyn. Both of them only wore sleeping robes.

 

"Looks like mebbe you're going to get your wish after all," Ryan said. He fell into line beside the window and peered out.

 

More bullets crashed through the windows. Spinning shards of glass whipped through the air and rained over the furniture.

 

Jocelyn yanked Aunt Maim back, keeping her behind the heavy counter. The maid pulled a heavy double-barreled shotgun from behind the desk.

 

"The bastards are shooting up my hotel," the woman shrilled. "That wasn't supposed to happen!"

 

Ryan lifted the Steyr and put the crosshairs over a man taking cover at the corner of a building. He squeezed the trigger and watched the man's head go to pieces. More men rode up on horses, muzzle-flashes flaming from their weapons.

 

"Where's John?" Mildred asked as she reloaded. Her accuracy with the target pistol was telling, as with all of the companions. The sec force might have gathered dozens out in the street, but none of them appeared anxious to charge toward the hotel.

 

"At the gunsmith's," Ryan answered. "Getting the ammo we need. I figure the noise from this is going to draw him soon enough." He sighted on one of the riders, then punched a heavy-caliber bullet through the man's chest.

 

The corpse tumbled free of the saddle, and the horse bolted for cover.

 

Hooves crashed heavily against the boardwalk outside. Ryan looked frantically, knowing a rider had to have come up on the boardwalk from his blind side. Then he heard Doc's Le Mat blaster cut loose in a full-throated roar. A heartbeat later a riderless horse galloped by his window within reaching distance. A dead man trailed along behind it, his foot caught in one of the stirrups.

 

"Hold up, everybody!" a man roared out in the street. "Just hold up and wait! Get that building surrounded and let's hold them there until Kirkland gets here!"

 

The blasterfire ceased outside as the newly arrived riders spread out and took control of the sec men's guns.

 

Ryan watched as the men moved with grim efficiency, cutting off their every chance of a bloodless escape. "Fireblast!" he snarled.

 

"I must apologize, my dear Ryan," Doc said from across the hotel room. "I appear to have brought the proverbial hornet's nest descending upon us like a judgment from a dark and dire god."

 

"Not your fault, Doc." Ryan reloaded the Steyr again, weighing the chances of moving during night as opposed to moving after daybreak. "At least you got Mildred back safe and sound." He watched the street, seeing lanterns being spread among the men. They hustled in twos and threes, running like wolf packs.

 

Ryan sighted on one of the lanterns, led his target a little, then let out half a breath and held it. His finger tightened on the trigger until he felt the rifle recoil against his shoulder.

 

Across the street, the lantern exploded into pieces. Oil splashed over the man carrying it, then ignited as the flames caught. He screamed in pain as the fire burned deep, wreathing him.

 

Mildred's pistol cracked, adding two more burning men to the pyre. Lanterns started going out all around the ville.

 

"Keep this floor covered," Ryan told Jak, Mildred and Doc. "Jak, you take the rear of the hotel. Mildred, you and Doc spread out here. I'll be back."

 

Jak faded into the shadows, his pale body lighted for only a moment as he passed. Doc and Mildred took up windows on opposite sides of the hotel wall facing the street.

 

Ryan sprinted up the stairs. It was going to be harder than a blue freezie's ass in January to hold the hotel. But it was also going to cost the sec men dearly if they tried to invade.

 

He found Krysty upstairs putting ammo for her blaster in small heaps beneath the windows of three rooms facing the street.

 

"Guess we stepped into it this time, lover," she said.

 

"Been there before," Ryan replied. "We'll see our way clear of this one, too." But at the moment he wasn't quite sure how. "I'm going up on the roof. Get a clearer vantage point from there."

 

"Do you want company?"

 

Ryan shook his head. "The rooftop's probably going to be the first position we have to fall back on." He gave her a brief kiss, then headed out of the room.