Reaper's Fee (9 page)

Nick and Kinman rode their own horses while Hale and two of his men rode in the small wagon. With the fires being put out slowly but surely, the night was reclaiming Rock Springs with its thick blanket of darkness. Even so, the smell of burnt gunpowder and spilled blood still hung heavily in the air.

Hale snapped his reins and got the wagon rolling ahead of Nick and Kinman. Just when he was about to mention how empty the streets were, he spotted someone standing at a window and tipped his hat to them. He kept quiet for the rest of the ride.

When Hale steered off the road and toward a cluster of trees, Nick thought the man’s hands had slipped from the reins. But rather than roll straight into the greenery, the horse nosed aside some branches to reveal a narrow trail that looked only slightly wider than a footpath. Nick made certain both the wagon and Kinman were ahead of him before he ventured into those trees.

The trail was mercifully short. Every step of the way, Nick got swatted in the face by low-hanging branches. Wooden barbs clawed at his arms and snagged at his sleeves when he tried to brush them out of the way. When he managed to wipe the dust and pollen from his eyes, Nick was looking at a wide stretch of land with a set of railroad tracks running straight down the middle of it. Hale was practically standing on top of the wagon as he snapped the reins to drive it to a spot beside the tracks. As soon as his brake was set, he jumped down from his seat.

“All right,” Hale said. “This is the spot. I don’t think anyone got a look at what was in that wagon, and they sure didn’t get much of a look at you two, so I’ll be on my way.”

“What’s the hurry?” Nick asked.

Hale started to reach for his horse to unhitch it. “I’m paying you men to do this job and that’s what you’ll do. If I wanted to do it myself, I could have saved the money.” He stared at Nick and Kinman. “What are you men waiting for? Get to work!”

“I think the plans are about to change,” Kinman said.

The fear had already taken hold of Hale’s features as he started backing toward his men, who were beside the wagon. Hale bumped against Cy, who was the closer of the two. “You two stand to make some easy money,” he said. “Don’t ruin it by doing something stupid.”

Kinman chuckled and said, “Stupid, huh? By stupid, do you mean being the ones to set this dynamite so your men here can witness it? Or do you mean stupid as in being the ones hunted by the army for killing its soldiers while you do whatever the hell you want right here?”

Watching the two men talk, Nick learned plenty from their faces. He learned even more from the faces of the men Hale had brought along with him. Although Hale looked more scared than anything else, Cy and the other gunman wore the expressions of men getting ready to make a move.

“Or maybe you just got a guilty conscience,” Kinman added. “Perhaps you’re just the sort of fellow who don’t like getting his hands dirty. You could be the sort who just likes to plan the deeds and reap the benefits afterward.”

“You’re the one who killed those Chinamen,” Hale said defiantly.

“That’s right. And they barely put up a fight. You could have done it your own self if you weren’t sitting in your office while your own town was on fire. Tell me something, Hale. Did you have enough sand to start even one of them fires or did you just watch from behind a window somewhere with the rest of the women?”

Hale’s face twitched and the muscles in his jaw tensed. After a few stuttering hisses, he managed to part his lips enough to speak to the men who’d ridden alongside him. “Blow this asshole’s head off.”

Kinman smirked and brought up his pistol in a quick, fluid motion. He took aim and prepared to fire with plenty of time to spare, but didn’t manage to get his shot off before his pistol was knocked off target. When he turned toward the man who’d swatted his hand to one side, there was an angry fire raging in his eyes.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Kinman growled.

Nick leaned to one side and used the same hand that had swatted Kinman’s gun to point toward Hale and his men. “Watch where you’re shooting!” was all he had time to say before pulling hard on his reins and steering Kazys away.

In the space of a heartbeat, Kinman turned to where Nick had been pointing and saw why Nick had stepped in. Both of Hale’s gunmen stood in front of and within spitting distance of the wagon, which had enough dynamite to turn a healthy section of railroad tracks into twisted metal. Ducking low, Kinman swore under his breath and snapped his reins to move out of the gunmen’s line of fire.

Even though Hale and his men were nowhere near as quick on the draw as Kinman or Nick, they’d had plenty of time to pull their triggers by now. Gunshots cracked through the air and lead hissed past Nick and Kinman. Fortunately, the men doing the firing were just as rattled by Nick’s sudden actions as Kinman had been. Their shots went wild and sailed harmlessly into the night.

The biggest struggle for Nick was to keep from drawing his gun. He left the modified Schofield in its holster so he could have both hands free. He rode around the wagon and reached out, snagging the horse’s bridle to take control of Hale’s wagon.

“Get away from there, God dammit,” Hale said as he turned and aimed at Nick.

All those years of lugging coffins paid off, as Nick was able to pull his feet out of the stirrups, get clear of Kazys’s back and pull himself onto the other horse, just as Hale’s shot whizzed over his head.

Meanwhile, the other two gunmen kept firing as Kinman raced around them. They knew better than to empty their cylinders too quickly and still had a few rounds each by the time their target came to a stop.

Dropping from his saddle, Kinman turned toward the gunmen. His boots slammed against the dirt, but the sound of the impact was masked by a shot from his pistol. The bullet caught Cy in the shoulder, twisted him in his saddle and knocked him off of his horse. Kinman wasted no time in shifting his aim to the other gunman. Now that he’d steadied himself, he took proper aim and sent a round straight through that one’s face.

Cy heard the solid thump of the body hitting the dirt, and that told him all he needed to know. He gritted his teeth and fired his remaining shots at Kinman, who had gotten into a prone position.

Grinning like a kid in the middle of a game of tag, Kinman pushed himself to the left and rolled toward Hale’s wagon.

Cy’s hammer dropped onto the back of an empty brass casing.

Kinman kept his aim on Cy as he got himself back onto his feet. When Cy dropped his gun and held up his hands, Kinman shook his head. “Too late for all that,” he said. Before Cy could speak a word in his own defense, Kinman pulled the trigger and sent his final bullet into Cy’s chest.

Nick wasn’t able to hear what Kinman said, but the shot blasted through the air so close to the horses that it got the animals shaking their heads and stomping their hooves. Hale, too, had fired off his remaining rounds and was cursing loudly. Nick poked his head up to get a look at him and had to quickly duck as Hale threw his gun at him.

“I’ve come too far to stop now!” Hale said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t the one to start this riot, but I sure as hell won’t let it pass without making some progress.”

Nick pulled himself up onto the wagon and immediately caught Hale’s fist in his jaw. The impact was barely hard enough to turn Nick’s head.

“It’s not a riot,” Nick said. “It’s a damned massacre!”

“Call it what you want. This town’s a powder keg thanks to those filthy Chinamen!”

As he cocked his arm back, Nick said, “Whatever this town is, you’re only making it worse.” He drove his fist into the middle of Hale’s face.

Blood spewed from Hale’s nose, which was now flattened awkwardly against his head. He turned onto his belly so he was draped over the back of the wagon’s seat and his legs were pointed toward the anxious horse. Digging into his pocket, he said, “You and Kinman have already done enough! All this shooting must have drawn a crowd.”

Nick glanced back in the direction from which they’d come and saw plenty of movement among the trees and neighboring buildings. He couldn’t be sure how many folks were watching from back there, but he could feel those eyes fixed upon him. They’d been given one hell of a show.

When he turned around again, Nick was treated to a sight that made his own eyes widen.

Hale had twisted around onto his side. His face was contorted into a twisted, grinning mask and his fingers were pinched around a single lit match. “Back the hell away from me or we both get blown sky-high,” he said in a disturbingly calm tone.

“Your men are already dead,” Nick said. “No need for you to join them.”

“We’ll all join them unless you do what I say. I’ve brought this too far to back up now.”

“Go on and do what he says,” Kinman said from a few yards away.

Nick only had to shift his eyes a bit to get a look at Kinman. Keeping Hale in the edge of his vision,
Nick saw Kinman step forward while casually reloading his pistol.

“There’s enough dynamite to kill us all,” Nick warned.

Kinman shrugged. “Then standing here or there won’t make much difference. Might as well do what he says so we don’t have to die in the name of some greedy Chinese.”

Hale smirked and slithered away from Nick until his back was against the edge of the driver’s seat. “That’s right. This town’s in the grip of a cleansing fire and it needs to burn until all the wickedness is purged. I only represent the good, honest workers of Rock Springs, who are trying to provide for their families.”

“Those Chinese have families, too,” Nick said.

“And they’ve got their jobs at these mines as well as at plenty of others. The line was crossed when they were set up to replace good Christian workers and put them out of their jobs.”

“Take it up with the mining companies.”

“Save your breath,” Kinman said before Hale could reply. “Let Hale do what he’s gonna do. Better that than have some more good workers suffer.”

“That’s absolutely right,” Hale said. He continued to look at Nick as the match in his hand burned down to his fingers. Flailing like a trout that had been dropped onto dry land, Hale squirmed over the back of the seat and landed on one of the crates of dynamite. His hands buried themselves into his
pockets and then came out with another few matches.

Nick let out an aggravated breath, just managing to release the horse’s tracings as he climbed down from the wagon before Hale started another little fire.

“What about the money?” Kinman asked. “You put on your show and we’re the ones who’ll take the blame no matter what, so we might as well get our payment.”

Hale grunted as he righted himself with his back against the side of the wagon. “Quite right,” he wheezed. He reached into another pocket to take out a bundle of money. Tossing the cash at Kinman, Hale said, “Take it and go. When you read about the history we’ve made here today, you’ll thank me for letting you be a part of it.”

Nick was already on Kazys’s back and riding away from the wagon. As soon as he’d collected the money and stuffed it into his own pocket, Kinman followed suit.

“Mark my words!” Hale shouted as he made his way back to the driver’s seat. “This is a historical day!” Smiling victoriously and sitting like a king upon his throne, Hale snapped his reins. As soon as the leather cracked against its flank, the horse bolted and pulled free of the wagon.

“What the hell?” Hale grunted.

Nick drew his pistol and fired at the back of the wagon. His first bullet drilled through the wooden panel without a result. His next shots, combined
with gunfire from Kinman, were more than enough to ignite the dynamite.

It seemed to spool out like a series of pictures that slowly passed in front of Nick’s eyes. First, he saw the flash of orange light from the back of the wagon. Next, he saw bits of wood fly out in every direction. Everything after that was a blur.

Nick’s ears were ringing so badly that he wasn’t exactly certain if he’d heard the explosion or not. Heat from the fire washed over him until he found himself wondering if he’d fired too soon and would perish in the flames right along with Hale. Despite all the heat, Nick swore he could feel the cold touch of the Reaper’s skeletal hand closing around the back of his neck. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt the grazing touch of those fingers, but Nick casually wondered if it would be his last.

And in a flash, those thoughts were forced out of Nick’s head as he was flung straight back into the world of the living.

The rest of the dynamite went up in a thunderous roar, but Nick and Kinman were riding away from it as quickly as their horses could take them. Nick didn’t recall snapping his reins, but he also didn’t recall covering enough ground to get where he was now.

Flames crackled and sputtered, but there wasn’t much of the wagon left to burn. Nick found himself on the other side of the railroad tracks, watching charred wooden hunks hit the ground. Kazys was panting like a dog that had been left out in the
sun. The horse’s sides swelled like a set of bellows against Nick’s legs.

For a while, Nick could only hear his own heart beating. Then, the sounds of his own breathing rushed through his ears. After that, the rest of the world made itself known to him as shouts and clanging bells rippled through the air.

The fire brigade was coming. Nick could see a large wagon racing from town toward the explosion. Now that he’d collected most of his wits, Nick looked down to find the railroad tracks still crossing the ground in front of him. They were a bit cluttered, but otherwise fine.

All Nick could think about was the trainload of Federals still bound for Rock Springs. Despite the grit in his teeth, smoke in his eyes and ringing in his ears, Nick couldn’t help but smile. When he finally caught sight of Kinman riding up to him, Nick saw a similar grin on the man’s face.

“Crazy bastard got what was coming to him!” Kinman shouted so he could be heard above the ringing in his own ears. “Let’s get the hell out of here, before the rest of his men get here!”

Nick wished he could stay long enough to see the Federal troops blast apart any of Hale’s remaining gunmen. Then again, those gunmen could very well be just a bunch of angry locals who’d been pushed too far by their circumstances and whipped into a frenzy by a man who liked the taste of blood. That part struck a little too close to home for Nick’s tastes.