05 Ironhorse (27 page)

“Choices and sorting out is one thing, killing is altogether another,” Virgil said.

“You’ll get no hiccup from me, Virgil,” Berkeley said.

“Jimmy John?” Virgil said.

Jimmy John shook his head firmly.

Virgil looked back and forth between the two, waiting to see if there was a need to reconsider, but the two men both registered firm constitution.

“Jimmy John, that stick ’n string could come in real handy, but I need to know for sure you won’t get fearful.”

“If you walked away,” Jimmy John said, “I would go at this alone.”

“Why?” Virgil said.

“Because,” Jimmy John said, “just because.”

96

VIRGIL SET THE
plan. We walked through the backside of the last mining camp where we’d tied the horses and made it to the dead-end part of the road.

Virgil pointed down the road to the west with the Henry rifle as he spoke to Jimmy John.

“So, there are two camps ahead of us here, that correct?” Virgil asked. “Before we get to the camp with the hot telegraph?”

“That’s right,” Jimmy John said. “The connected camp is the third camp?”

“We’ll make our way there,” Virgil said. “Foggy as it is, there is no need to walk the woods. We’ll move on up the road, not in the middle but on the edge of the road, staying tight to the trees. When we get to the first camp we need to take it easy, make sure we don’t see nothing, no people, no horses, nothing out of the ordinary, before we move through to the next camp.”

“How are we going to address them?” Berkeley said. “Once we get there. We’re not going to just walk up and knock on the door, are we?”

“Before we get to the third camp, we’ll split up,” Virgil said.

“Two of us come in from the west side,” I said, “and two of us come in from this side?”

“That’s right,” Virgil said.

“Two of us go uphill, through the trees, cross over, then drop back to the road,” I said.

“Yes, good,” Berkeley said. “So there is no situation for them to escape.”

“We’ll have them covered that way,” I said. “Catch them coming and going?”

Virgil nodded. “Two on this side will wait. We plan it so there is plenty of time for the other two to get set on the other side.”

“Jimmy John and I are the most fleet,” I said. “Figure we should do the cross over and come in from the west, don’t you imagine?”

“I do,” Virgil said. “Berkeley, you and me will come to the office from this side.”

Berkeley nodded slowly.

“We’ll move on this way on the road here. Berkeley, you and me will walk up the right side. Everett, you and Jimmy John walk up the left. Go through the other two camps, be on the lookout. Make sure there is nothing that needs our attention. Long as everything is clear, we continue on. When we get close to the third camp, we’ll separate.”

“Giving Everett and Jimmy John time to get to the other side?” Berkeley said.

“Yep,” Virgil said.

“But how will we time this out?” Berkeley said. “We don’t want to show up at the office at different times, do we?”

Virgil pulled his pocket watch and tapped it. “Off a get-go time we’ll come at them from both sides,” he said. “Let’s set us a solid minute mark and check ’em after we get on a ways.”

Berkeley and I pulled our watches. Jimmy John did not.

Virgil looked to Jimmy John.

Jimmy John shook his head slightly.

“On Indian time, boss,” Jimmy John said.

Virgil nodded.

“Just make sure you and Everett stay together,” Virgil said.

Jimmy John nodded. Virgil popped open his watch cover.

Berkeley, Virgil, and I set our watches to the minute.

“So once we are set,” Berkeley said, “on each side of the office, what will we do on the minute, move in fast, move slow, what?”

“What we don’t want to do is cause a ruckus outside, so we don’t rush,” Virgil said. “What we want to do is straighten their ass out without commotion, a second at a time.”

“Fog can work for us,” I said.

“Can,” Virgil said, nodding.

“See them first,” I said. “We will be looking.”

“That’s right,” Virgil said, “and they won’t.”

Virgil showed the knife on his belt and pointed to the knife on Berkeley’s belt and Jimmy John’s.

“Under most circumstances, give a man the benefit of defense, an option,” Virgil said, “but these disregards called it. That is the temper of this situation, that simple. We move in on them. Hopefully come from behind if we can, get ’em like a coyote, before they know something life-ending has happened. Without negotiation, offer, or noise, that is what we will do.”

“What if we can’t?” Berkeley said. “What if the situation is they spot us?”

“We shoot ’em, move fast inside the office,” Virgil said. “Shoot whoever we have to inside, save the women, that sort of thing.”

97

THE TWO CAMPS
we walked through were vacant. We did not see anyone, or any sign of horses, no horse droppings, nothing, the camps were empty. Seeing the two camps gave us an idea of what we would be dealing with when we got to the third camp. They were laid out pretty much the same. The bunk quarters and mess quarters and privies, or what remained of them, were on our left, the south side of the road. They were like Jimmy John had said, wood-sided and canvas-roofed, but the roofs were gone and the wooden sides were dilapidated. On our right, across the road from the bunk and mess quarters sat the mining headquarters. The headquarters in both camps we passed through were constructed the same: complete wood construction and no canvas. The buildings were long narrow structures that paralleled the road with doors on both ends. We walked through them both. They were built just the same; half of the structure was a tool shed with a bunk and the other half had an abandoned desk, some chairs, and tables. We left the second camp and continued walking west. Berkeley and Virgil moved up the right side of the road and Jimmy John and I moved up the left, staying close to the trees. We walked for a ways and before we got anywhere close to the third camp we were closing in on, Virgil spoke up, very quietly.

“Far enough,” he whispered.

Jimmy John and I stopped. Virgil and Berkeley crossed the road to where Jimmy John and I had stopped.

Virgil pulled his watch. “Let’s see what we got.”

I opened my watch and so did Berkeley, and we held them next to Virgil’s watch. We all leaned in looking at them, comparing the time, and sure enough, they were all still showing the exact same minute after the hour.

“On the money,” Berkeley said.

“Good,” Virgil said. “We move in at exactly half past the hour. Everett, that gives you and Jimmy John a full forty minutes to go up and around to the other side and get back to the road.”

I looked at Jimmy John, and he nodded.

“You ready to get this going, Everett?” Virgil said.

“I was going before I was gone,” I said.

Virgil nodded. “Let’s get on, then,” he said. “Be seeing you boys subsequently.”

Jimmy John and I split with Virgil and Berkeley. We left them on the road and made our way up into the woods. We walked uphill for about one hundred yards or so and started working our way back to the west. We navigated through the foggy forest until we got to the overhead telegraph drop that we knew went to the third camp. We continued west a ways and started making our way back downhill. We stopped before we got to the road and waited for a moment. After we made sure there was no one near, we edged out of the trees and onto the road. I looked at my watch. We had exactly sixteen minutes before we were to close in on the mining office but we needed to get ourselves closer, within immediate striking distance. We started moving back east toward the office. We stayed to the trees and moved very slowly, very quietly, taking one careful step at a time. It took us a while and before we had the structure in sight, we heard voices.

We kept inching slowly and within a moment we saw the building and someone sitting outside of it on a bench that faced the road. I pulled my watch from my pocket, opened the face, and looked at the time. I held up five fingers to Jimmy John, and he nodded. We could not see the man on the bench too clearly until he moved some, adjusting his body, and we could see him very well. It was one of the hands, no doubt. It was clear he wore Mexican spurs with oversized rowels. He was talking to someone as he cleaned mud off his boot with a stick, but we could not see whom he was talking with or hear clearly what was being said. The hand laughed, said something, making whoever he was talking with also laugh. The hand stood up and started walking across the road toward the bunk quarters. His spurs were noisy as he moved off at a leisurely pace. We lost sight of him in the trees and after a moment we heard a door shut.

“He’s in the shitter,” I said quietly as I pulled out my watch again and opened it.

“Almost time?” Jimmy John asked in a whisper.

I nodded and held up two fingers. “Two minutes,” I said.

Jimmy John nodded.

“I’ll go this way to the office and deal with whoever we can’t see and you deal with the hand in the shitter.”

Jimmy John nodded.

I pulled my knife from its sheath.

“Think you can deal with the hand on the pot?”

Jimmy John pulled his knife.

“Yes,” Jimmy John said.

“Okay then,” I said.

I held the pocket watch up for both of us to see clearly. We watched the minute hand as it moved around the face of my timepiece. When it hit the get-go time, Jimmy John and I looked at each other and moved off swiftly, silently into the fog.

98

I THOUGHT ABOUT
Emma and Abigail and what they had been through as I moved slowly toward the building. It seemed like a very long time since I had last laid eyes on them. I thought about Emma looking into my eyes, and me looking into her eyes. I thought about holding her hand and her holding mine. My heart pumped harder as I got closer to the building, wondering if she had been hurt, or raped, or if she was even alive. Sure, like Virgil said, we go at this every step of the way with the contention they most assuredly are alive. But what if they were not, what then? When I saw her on the train I felt like I had known her from before. Even though I never met her or seen her previous, I felt as though we had a history together, maybe from another life. Or maybe in this life, the mysterious powers of the universe had us a predestined union designed beyond our imagination or understanding.

Jimmy John slipped off into the trees toward the privy on my right, and I continued on, moving slowly up to the building.

As far as I could tell, I made it to the structure without being seen. I placed my back to the west-end wall next to the door and crouched down low. I edged my eye around the corner, and just as I did, I saw blood. Berkeley was right, he had no problem killing. Just like he slit the throat of the big dun horse, he just slit the throat of one of the getaway riders. Berkeley had his huge hand around the man’s mouth, and his knife had opened a straight line across the man’s throat, and his blood was gushing. I stepped around the corner and saw Virgil. He was just behind Berkeley. He pointed me to the door on my end of the building and pointed to himself and Berkeley and to the other door. Virgil held up his hand and showed five fingers, twice. A ten-second count.

I nodded and started counting. I sheathed my knife, pulled my Colt, and moved back around next to the west-end door.

One thousand one . . . one thousand two . . . one thousand three—I pulled my second Colt—one thousand four . . . one thousand five—I stepped back to kick the door—one thousand six, one thousand seven, one thousand eight, one thousand nine.

This was it. This was the moment.

I kicked the door hard just as two shots rang out from inside. The door busted from its hinges, crashing flat into the room and landing at the feet of a tall man.

“Don’t shoot!” he cried out, and instantly raised his arms above his head.

With his one good arm, and his wood arm high above his head, I knew right away this fellow was the masquerading conductor, John Bishop Wellington, and the man who had escaped from prison with Bloody Bob. Wellington was healed with a backward side rig. The butt of a Smith & Wesson was sticking out facing me, but his arms were up and I had both my Colts pointing at him.

“Don’t shoot!” Wellington pleaded again as he backed away from me. “Please!”

Behind him, the door separating the office from the bunkroom was open. I saw Virgil with his Colt standing in the smoke-filled office. To my left there was a low bunk, but no women.

“Take that S ’n W out, slow,” I said, “and pitch it over to the bunk.”

Wellington did what I told him and kept both arms up.

“Don’t see the women,” I called out. “You?”

“No!” Virgil replied. “Two dead hands. No Lassiter. No women.”

“Where are they?” I said to Wellington.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

I raised one Colt with an eye-level bead between Wellington’s eyes. “Where are they?”

Before Wellington could open his mouth I heard two distinct clicks behind me, and metal pressing into my back.

99

DISTINCT CLICKS I’D
heard before. Many times before. And a voice: “Release the hammers on those pistols and drop them to the floor, Deputy,” the voice said. “You too, Marshal,” the voice called out louder, “or one shot of this eight-gauge blows a hole through your deputy’s back and the other will be for you. Your call.”

I recognized the voice, but I could not place it until he spoke again.

“Like I told you before, I have killed before, and I’m not afraid to do it again. I will give you three seconds!”

It was Captain Lowell Cavanaugh, the dandy from the first coach. The son of a bitch had my eight-gauge. The dandy was in on it.

“No need, Mr. Cavanaugh,” I said.

I was looking directly at Virgil standing in the office.

“Now!” Cavanaugh shouted.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

I released the hammers and dropped my Colts.