After and Again (22 page)

  “Okay, here comes freedom!” He tossed the torch at the stable doors—which had been doused in lamp oil—and made a display of listening by putting his hand behind his ear and leaning toward the barn. After a couple of moments the cries for help became screams of terror. Desmond Trask did a shuffling little dance in the road and bellowed laughter, it’s sound was utter madness.

  Tal Miller climbed the ladder and lay down on the wood shingled roof. The pitch wasn’t very steep and he snaked his way up to the peak easily. When he reached the top, he looked back down the roof the way that he’d come and cursed himself as stupid. Turning around, he made his way back down the roof, reached over the edge, and pulled the ladder up behind him.

  Back at the peak, he looked over the top and had it not been so smoky he would have had a commanding view of the entire north end of town. There were about ten riders who were apparently leaving, and the wagon was on the move as well. He could see the front of the stable burning and hoped that Zack was ready. He didn’t want to waste anymore time.

  Zack sprinted behind the houses with Max right behind. He stopped for a moment at the house directly behind the stable and looked around. The way looked clear and he made for the rear of the stable noticing that smoke was already issuing from cracks in the upper part of the two-story structure. He reached the doors and began pulling at the boards that had been nailed over them when the rifle shots started. Good luck Tal, he thought.

  Tal Miller opened fire; he had shot a rifle before, when he was very young but was no marksman and missed his target with the first two shots. The second hit home and a man that had been waving and shouting at the others fell in a heap. His next shot dropped another man who had crouched behind a rain barrel, obviously thinking that the shots were coming from elsewhere as he was in clear view from Tal’s rooftop. Then he saw
him
; Trask, for the first time, “No mistakin that one,” Tal said to himself, taking aim and firing the rifle. The bullet was off and hit the dirt a few feet from Trask. Smoke obscured him for a moment and then Tal saw him again; Trask was aiming a rifle at him. Tal swore that they made eye contact at that moment.

  The bullet missed Desmond Trask, but not by much. He looked up at the rooftop where he thought the shot had come from, and saw a head poking over the peak. Not the whelp, but the whelp was here. He could feel him. So it was the bitch then, he thought to himself. The hero’s girl was she? Well he was going to fix that one once and for all. He figured that the whelp had gone after the wagon, and whoever was on the roof was supposed to buy him some time or something. Trask didn’t know why he was so sure that the kid was here, after all it could be another one of the townsfolk like the old man that had killed Locke. It wasn’t though, and he knew it. It was almost like he could smell him.

  Chaos had ensued when the shots began and Trask looked around quickly, some men had taken cover, others were going for the horses where there were bows. There wasn’t enough of his original group left to pull this together. Guns changed everything for most of these men. Trask cursed The Man in Charge for being niggardly with the guns, but he knew why. The Man in Charge was anything but stupid.

   He lifted the Winchester and fired at the man on the rooftop, missed, levered the weapon and fired again, but the head he had seen above the ridge had disappeared.

  He saw Ben Grayson and strode over to the other man just as another bullet intended for him missed its mark. They took cover by the very building that Tal was on top of. “Grayson, why aren’t half the buildings on this side of the road on fire?”

  “Hell, I don’t know, Desmond, Wallace was supposed to be carryin the torch, an’ I ain’t seen him for awhile,” Grayson said, looking uptight as two more reports came from the roof.

  “Look, fire this place right now, and post a couple of men around it where they won’t get shot or burned up, and as soon as the roof caves in on him, you’re done, pull out.” Trask said,  “I’ve got an old friend to meet.” Then as he was turning to leave there was another shot, this time from behind the stable. “Burn it,” Trask said, and ran toward the origin of the gunshot.

  It took Tal Miller a couple of tries to figure out how to re-load the rifle but he finally figured it out and poked his head back over the ridge. Two men were mounting horses across the road and he fired at the nearest one hitting the man in the center of the back. The other rider meanwhile was mounted and turning his horse northward. Tal shot at the man and missed; he levered the rifle and aimed again but it was too late, the rider was away. Suddenly there was a report from behind the stable, “Zack!” Tal said aloud and started shimmying his way down to the corner of the roof.

  Zack couldn’t pull the boards from the stable doors. He looked around frantically for something to pry them off with and could see nothing. There was a great deal more smoke coming from the stable and the screams of the people and the horses inside was the most horrible sound that Zack had ever heard. The doors were pulsating with the weight of the people pushing on them, but the nails held fast. He scanned the ground for something, anything that he could use to get behind the boards and pry them out.

  Zack looked up from his search just in time to see Frank Olsen and another man turn the corner from the north side of the barn. “Look at this, it’s Zack Mcqueen,” Frank said smiling, but he looked sad to Zack, regardless of the smile.

  “Frank, what the hell? Help me….please!”

  “I can’t help you, Zack, I made my choice, I belong here now.”

  “Kill ‘em, Frank!” said the man behind him, shoving Olsen aside and moving toward Zack. Max was on the man before he had taken three steps, latching onto his thigh and pulling him to the ground. Olsen lifted the machete that he was carrying, “I couldn’t burn the Martin house Zack,” he said, and started forward. Zack pulled the six-shooter from his waistband and shot Frank Olsen nearly point blank in the chest before he had a chance to realize that a split second before he had pulled the trigger, Frank Olsen had lowered the machete.

    He stuck the pistol back in his pants, grabbed the shotgun from where it leaned against the stable and swung it at the other man’s head, cracking his skull and ceasing his struggle with the wolf.

  Zack leaned over, picked up the machete, and turned back to the stable doors just as a familiar voice spoke from behind him.  “I killed your girl hero.…after we….well, you know. But not to worry son, you can join her in hell.” Trask aimed the Winchester and pulled the trigger. Click, nothing, he quickly levered the rifle and was re-aiming when a shot hit the dirt right next to him. He turned to see Tal Miller taking aim at him from the roof; then a deafening roar from behind him and there was white-hot pain as the pellets from the shotgun peppered his body. Desmond Trask turned and ran down the alley between the stable and the building where Tal Miller was shooting at him from. Tal prepared to take another shot when an arrow whizzed past his head, he turned to see the archer nocking another arrow. Tal took aim and shot the man in the chest.

  Ben Grayson and two others came around to the back side of the building, dousing it with lamp oil and lighting it as they went. He rounded the corner just in time to see Trask turn and run; “You, finish torching this place,” Grayson said to one of the new men whose name he couldn’t remember. “Collins, put an arrow in that son of a bitch on the roof if you can,” he said to another  while un-slinging his crossbow and stepping forward, carefully staying out of the sight line of the man on the roof. As close as he could get without risking getting shot, he took aim at Zack, who had worked the thick steel machete under the boards nailed to the door jambs and was prying them off. There was a shot; and his eyes wandered for the briefest moment to his right, where Collins was falling to the ground. Eyes back forward and a wolf filled his vision, he fired on reflex; the wolf yelped, collapsing in the dirt and trying drag itself forward with its front legs. He reached into his quiver for another arrow—Trask’s boy was still unaware of his presence—and set it, when something fell on him from above.

  Tal turned in time to see Max fall, and saw the man with the crossbow nearly directly under him. Tal jumped from the roof onto the man feeling his ankle snap when he landed. He grappled with him fiercely; knowing that if the man was able to get to his feet, all would be lost. Tal, a veteran of more fights than he could count used the experience to his advantage and managed to get on top of the man, wrapping his hands around his throat. Suddenly there was pain in his side and he had to reach a hand down to stay the knife that the man was trying to stick in his belly. His opponent took advantage and shoved Tal—who was now off-balance—and wriggled free. The man was trying to gain his feet when Max clamped down on his face. He screamed in pain and battered at the wolf. Tal picked up the man’s dropped knife and dragged himself close enough to bury it in his chest.

  The doors flew open before Zack even had the last board out, and he was thrown aside by the out-swing, his nose bloodied. Smoke billowed from the building and a crush of people came pouring out, coughing and retching. He recovered himself and thought of Grace, but there were so many people coming out that he couldn’t get past them to get inside. After what seemed like an eternity the flood of people slackened enough to squeeze past. An old woman grabbed his arm and shouted, “You can’t go in there, you’ll die!” Zack pulled away and rushed into the smoke filled stable. He could see some bodies on the floor and knew that he couldn’t save all of the people
and
the horses, the front portion of the building was already an inferno, and the horses were in a panic. He ran back outside and screamed at the crowd “There are people in there that need help! Please!” he turned and ran back inside and grabbed the first person that he came to by the legs and started dragging him or her—he couldn’t tell which—across the dirt floor of the stable. He felt a hand on his arm and saw that it was the man who worked for Andy Gross at the inn. The man leaned down and took the legs from Zack, and Zack saw that there were others now in the barn helping. He ran to the stall that Grace was in and tried to sooth the frightened animal while he opened the stall. As soon as the stall was open Grace bolted out, and Zack was afraid that she would trample someone. The stable was now so thick with smoke that Zack was having trouble seeing, and every breath burned his lungs. He went for the next stall and screamed with all of his voice. “HORSES COMING!” and opened the stall. Drawing breath was getting harder and he was feeling lightheaded but continued from stall to stall, now feeling his way along the row. He began to feel like he was dreaming; he was sitting on his father’s lap on the front porch……

  Desmond Trask caught up with the wagon and hailed the driver to stop. He dismounted and walked to the head of the wagon, looked at the driver and said, “Key.” The driver handed it over and Trask walked to the back of the now full wagon and unlocked the cage. “Out,” he said looking at Emily with an expression that dared her to disobey. The other women looked fearfully at Trask and pityingly at Emily, who got up without a word and made her way to the open door. Trask took her roughly by the arm and yanked her out of the wagon. “So your little beau is
dead
huh?” he said, letting go and watching her fall onto the road. “Well don’t worry, he won’t be bothering us anymore, I’ll tell you, I never heard anyone scream like—”

  “You’re LYING!” Emily screamed, getting up and running at Trask, fists flying. He gave her a backhanded slap and she flew back to the ground, skinning her arms. He reached down and dragged her to her feet. “C’mon honey, were going home,” he said, pulling the dazed girl to his horse. “Get this wagon to The Crack, and get it there fast,” he told the driver. Trask set Emily in front of him on the horse and then disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  Zack awoke and stared up into the faces of Tal Miller and Andy Gross. He was lying on the pallet in the room that he and Tal had rented at the inn. He was confused for a moment as to the events that led him to being there but things became clear after a few moments. His throat burned like fire. “Do you have some water?” he asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

   “Right here,” Andy said, taking a real glass from the bureau and handing it to Zack.

   “We thought you were finished there for a minute,” Tal said, reaching over from his chair and putting a hand on Zack’s shoulder.

  “You were out for three hours,” Andy added.

  “What happened to your leg, Tal?” Zack asked, seeing how Tal was sitting with his left leg fully extended and his calf and ankle completely wrapped up.

  “Oh, one ‘a them bastards was trying to shoot ya with a crossbow so I jumped off the roof on ‘em and broke my ankle. Gettin old, brittle bones ya know. It’s okay, local doc here set in about ten minutes….an’ I was lucky to get that, he’s a busy man this morning.”

  “Where’s Max?” Zack asked, looking around the small room. The other two men shared a glance then Tal answered,

  “He’s right there behind ya, Zack, but he’s hurt a bit….doc says he’ll probably be okay though.” Zack twisted around and saw that Max was lying on a wool blanket not two feet away, with his whole backside wrapped in bandages.

  “Oh, hey boy,” he said softly and reached over to stroke the wolf’s head. Max opened his eyes and wagged his tail. “What happened to him?” he asked, not looking away from Max.

  “The man with the crossbow shot ‘im in the hip, just before he tried to shoot you. When you were trying to open the stable doors ya see. We took care of him though, ay Max?” Tal said, looking fondly at the wolf.