THE DEADLY OUTLAW
By Atonia and Jo
Jo writing Maximus, Caroline, Bud, Marie, Sid, Hope, Cort, Lachlan, Ben
Atonia writing Terry, Dee, Alex, Linda, Jack, Tarwyn, John, Bethany
PART 5:
Cort was coming out of a place of blackness into pain. His head hurt like blue blazes.
John leaned over Cort. “Easy, easy now.”
Ben! The last he remembered was Ben’s boot coming toward his face. “Where is he?”
“He’s gone,” Terry repeated his lines.
Lachlan held the keys to the handcuffs in his hand. “He took the horses. I found these in the
grass.”
“What’s the quickest way out of the pass?” Terry asked.
Cort struggled to sit up. “He'll be looking for help getting his cuffs off.”
“We’re going after him?” Lachlan asked.
Cort had a single track going in his mind. He had to get the $200 or he’d lose his farm. “Well,
there ain't no reward for getting him halfway to that train, is there?”
Ben had been riding, bringing the other four horses along with him. It was damn cold and snow
was falling lightly as he approached the last obstacle between him and Contention…the camp
of railroaders blasting through an area of rock to lay track. He figured there would be
somebody there who could get the damn cuffs off him.
Unaware he’d been spotted by someone who held a past grudge against him, he dismounted
and went into a tent, picking up a hammer and handing it to a Chinese woman as he rested his
wrists on an anvil.
“You, help me with the handcuffs. Break the chain. Use the hammer. Break the chain.”
But there was no time and a bullet zinged through the canvas just above his head as he ducked
down.
Terry couldn’t look behind him to see if Lachlan and John had found anything to shield John’s
back or not. He had to say his damn lines. “Our horses.” They walked up to where Ben was
strung up.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Mr. Butterfield, all finished in Bisbee?”
“Mr. Boles.”
“Better hurry. We're making the last blasts through the mountains this week.”
Terry looked at Ben. “That’s my prisoner. I’m taking him to Contention, putting him on the
prison train to Yuma.”
“What prisoner?”
“Come now, Mr. Boles, that’s Ben Wade you have there.” Terry stole a glance behind him.
John had the blanket and the tin plates under his shirt but that was all as far as he knew.
“Ben Wade gunned down my kid brother in front of me six years ago in Abilene.”
Even though he was trussed up like a deer carcass, Ben still said, “Your brother was a lyin',
bilkin' card sharp. That is, if he's the asshole I remember. Could, of course, been some other
asshole I killed that I forgot about.”
The electric charges were immediately sent through him again, burning his chest, sending
searing pain coursing along his nerve paths. He squinched his face up and couldn’t help
letting out sounds of pain.
As much as he disliked Ben Wade it bothered John to see him being tortured in such a manner.
The lines he had to deliver were easy. “You can’t do that. That’s immoral.”
“Moral ain’t got a damn thing to do with it.”
Cort knew Ben Wade was a ruthless outlaw, but the fact that this was nothing more than
torture for pleasure went through him and he gritted his teeth. “I was expecting to collect a
$200 reward for that man. I'm delivering him to Contention. I need that money.”
“Need it bad enough to die?”
“Well, at least let us take our horses.”
“I got no problem with that...as long as you ride away, mister.”
Ben figured they were getting ready to ride off and leave him there. It was his experience of
life. “Nice knowing you, Dan.”
John noticed the wooden shovel leaning against the shack. He slowly inched his way over. He
knew he had to hit the big bastard in the face with it but he intended to keep it. So far Lachlan
hadn’t found anything to stuff under his coat.
It all happened quickly and Ben was free. They all ran for the horses. John stomped on the
shovel handle and broke it off. Terry helped him secure the wide wooden shovel end up his
coat. There wasn’t time to do anything else.
They were racing through the tunnel. Bole’s men were mounted and firing after them now.
John had a line he had to say. He rode up by Lachlan, knowing he was going to be shot after
he said it. A hundred things went through his mind. His wife Donna, his boys…Beth….fuckin’
Sid. Would Sid let him die? Oh…God…
“Did you see me get that one with the shovel?”
He felt the impact in the middle of his back through the shovel and then a searing pain through
his right shoulder. He’d been hit. Lachlan grabbed him and raced through the others on
horseback to the front. He wasn’t going to make it. He heard the explosion behind him and the
next thing he knew Lachlan was leaning over him and he was beside the railroad track.
“Doc, doc?” Lachlan leaned over him.
“Dan!” Terry called to Cort.
“Did we make it? Did we get away?” Stupid lines he had to say. John wanted his shoulder taken
care of and the damned wooden shovel off his back.
Cort came over, truly sorry to see Doc Potter had been shot. He was a good man and terribly
out of his element through no fault of his own. He was here only because Byron had insisted
on coming and Byron had been shot. All he wanted to do right now was give some final
encouragement to the man as he died. “Yeah, Doc. We did. Thanks to you.”
They had to leave Potter behind and it grieved Cort that it was so. The man had done well and
deserved better.
As soon as Cort, Ben, Lachlan, and John headed down out of the pass for Contention, which
could be seen not all that far away, Maximus appeared from a small construction shack,
hurrying to John.
“What do you need, John? How may I be of assistance?”
“Get me up and get this damn shovel outta my back and the tin plates. I took a bullet through
my shoulder.” John began pressing his wadded shirt up over the wound to stop the bleeding.
As Maximus pulled the shovel out they looked at the hole in it. One more inch would have been
all it took.
Sid was loving the whole thing. “Damn best movie ever!” he chortled. “I always thought I might
try my hand at directing.”
John, Alex, and Bud were still alive, though, despite the movie’s plot. Oh, well, ants could always
be ants on some future anthill of his devising. Now, however, the best part was about to begin.
Would Cort be filled with lead by the train, right in front of his son’s eyes? “OooOoOoOo!”
Such possibilities for drama.
Hope was contained within what looked to her like some giant blue maze, only there didn’t seem
to be any exit, at least none she’d been able to find. Perhaps Sid had created it without an exit?
She came up to blind ending after blind ending, doubling back. There was nothing, not
anywhere, to let her know where she’d been before. It was all the same, thick, blank,
impenetrable walls of blue. Sid had placed her here for a reason. She knew him well enough
to be sure of that. He was up to something with the rest of her family, her father, her uncles
and their women, …and Lachlan.
Cort and those he was with rode into Contention, a much larger, busier town than Bisbee.
“We need a place to lay low. Keep him outta sight till the train comes.”
“There’s a hotel up here. I’ll check us in. You ride around back.” Terry looked behind him
and rode toward the hotel. When he pulled up at the hotel he heard his name called. Next door
was a dance hall and by the side entrance Dee was waiting.
“Dee! Oh, my God, Dee!” He went to her and embraced her for a moment.
“Darling, Terry. I thought I’d never get here.”
“You shouldn’t be here now.”
“It’s all right. I don’t have much of a part, only one line that I have to deliver when they bring
Ben around but you know I’m here and if there’s anything you need or that I can do.”
“When did you get warped in?”
“Right before the coach fire.”
“So you don’t know about Alex?”
“No…trust Jack, Terry.” She had to let him go into the hotel.
“Hello, Gentlemen,” Dee said and caught Lachlan’s eye. Ben noticed her, too.
Noticing some woman like that was not on Cort’s agenda. His life now was simply how many
minutes lay between where he was and where he had to have Ben Wade by 3:10. “Hey,
William, you go keep a watch at the railhead. If you see them coming...”
“I'll let you know,” Lachlan smiled, riding away. He didn’t know when he’d felt more tense.
Something was coming down the pike and he hoped to God there would be some way to stop it.
Looking at Dee, Ben commented, “There's a Can-Can on the hour if you're interested.” Cort
ignored him.
Terry led the way into the hotel room. “It’s the bridal suite. Hope you don’t mind. It’s all they
had.”
Cort went to the window, pulled back a little of the lace curtain, and looked out. Ben came up
behind him. “Well, well. That looks like rain clouds over Bisbee. You still need that $200, Dan?”
“Shut up!” He was dead tired, his head felt like a log in a sawmill, and shortly Ben’s gang would
be riding into town. No, he was not interested in talking.
Terry pulled the watch from his vest, “Mr. Evans, you continue to give me great confidence.”
“Well, it ain't 3:10 yet.”
Terry opened the door. “I’m gonna go see about the marshal.”
Charlie and the gang arrived at the railroad tunnel, finding Ben had definitely been there. His
eyes locked briefly on the Hand of God, and within a few seconds three men lay dead.
Ben settled on the bed. It was just him and Dan in the room now. Time for a little mind games.
“So this is the bridal suite. Now, I wonder how many brides have taken in this view.” His gaze
turned from the ceiling to where Dan sat glumly in a chair, staring intently out the window.
“What are you gonna do with your $200 now, Dan? Now that the rains are coming?”
“I owe people money, Wade.” Ben might call him Dan but there was no way he was going to
call the man by his first name. “That drought left me in the hole.”
“Well, what do you think about double that amount? You could pay your debts, buy a hundred
more cows, build a new barn.” He knew all that was what had created this heaviness in Dan.
“How you reckon I'm gonna do that?”
“Just lay down your gun and let me walk out the door. It's worth $400 to me.”
“Is that what you reckon my price is?”
“No. No, I reckon it's a thousand.” Ben’s negotiations continued. It was pointless because Dan
was not going to be bought. Ben had to try, though. Most men he’d come across, well, all of
them, in fact, did have a price. He knew how desperately Dan needed cash, yet Dan kept
refusing. That rather intrigued Ben.
“You know what?” Cort finally said as Ben ran through his lines of temptation. “Would you do
me a favor? Don't talk to me for a while.”
Ben smiled, “You mean we're still not friends?”
“No,” Cort said grimly. “No, we're not.”
“Come five minutes to three, we're gonna be a hell of a lot closer than you think.”
Ben lay back on the pillow, lifting his arms, staring at his manacles, then began to sing Tucker’s
song. “They're gonna hang me in the mornin' before the night is done. They're gonna hang me
in the mornin', I'll never see the sun.”
Tarwyn told Jack about the tunnels and that Wade’s gang would go through there on their way to Contention. They decided to circumvent the tunnels. It was a longer ride but with less chance of running into Charlie Prince. By two o’clock they could see the town in the distance. It gave them a burst of energy that was much needed. Jack was beginning to feel the effects of little sleep, too. They’d gained a couple of hours on the gang during the night.
Alex looked down at his hands. The bandages Tarwyn had wrapped around them were bloody now. Constant pressure on the reins had popped the blisters that formed. His eyes still burned from smoke and lack of sleep.
Dee kept her vigil on the side porch of the dance hall. When Terry came out to look for the marshal she went to him. “What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. Find me some folks to fight back. When the gang gets here…”
“I know what happens then. I’ll do what I can and keep a look out for Jack and Maximus.”
“Dee, John was shot. I don’t know how bad it is. We had to leave him.”
“Oh, my God. Well, I’m free here to do anything. I’ll find some bandages and whatever is available.”
Terry managed a small smile. “I like your outfit.”
“You should see my can-can,” Dee grinned and kissed him.
“I have a job to do, luv. I’m glad you’re here.” He held her a moment and then left to locate the marshal.
Dee went to find the apothecary.
Maximus took a side way into town, avoiding the main roads. John was sagging in the saddle
and though Bud was now awake, he was in a lot of pain. He wasn’t sure just where to take the wounded men. The hotel where Cort and Ben were was easily recognizable to him from his viewing of the movie. He sat in the saddle a moment, surveying the town. Where could he find help? Just then he saw Dee heading down a boardwalk.
“Dee!” he called.
“Maximus!” Dee had a canvas bag full of everything she could find at the apothecary. “This way.” Dee led them to the back door of the dance hall.
“There’s a room right up these stairs that I’m using. Oh, my God, Bud!” She could see he was
in pain. John was mobile but looked pale and was holding a wad of something to his shoulder. “Caroline, Marie, are ya’ll all right?”
“Tired,” Caroline sighed. “But there’s no real room for that now, is there?”
There was a knock on the door of room number 7 and Cort asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Dan. I brought help.” Terry said his lines and looked up at the ceiling of the hotel.
Behind him was a bought and paid for marshal who wouldn’t go the distance. He was, for some
time, hating this movie.
Cort was not at all sure one of Ben’s gang might not be standing there with the man. “You been
gone a long time, Mr. Butterfield. How do I know somebody ain't got a gun on you out there?”
Terry stepped into the room after the marshal slid his badge under the door and Cort opened it.
Why did he keep calling him Cort. He was deluded…convinced he was Dan Evans. “Dan, this is
Marshal Will Doane.”
Marshal Doane introduced two of his finest men.
“I'm sorry about all that, Marshal. I really am grateful for the help.” He meant that with all
his heart.
“Don’t mention it,” the marshal said.
Ben seemed almost amused. “So you fellas really gonna help put me on this train?”
“It may not seem like it, Mr. Wade, but we got law and order in this town, just like any other.”
Ben was still smiling. “Well, that's very reassuring, Marshal. How much is Butterfield paying
you?”
“That’s none of your business.” Terry replied.
Ben didn’t think much of Butterfield. “You gonna come with us?” He’d believe it when he saw
it and he didn’t think he’d be seeing it.
“Oh, I’ll be walking with you…every step of the way. You have my word on that, Dan.” Terry
did mean it. He had no intention of hiding in the hotel while Cort dodged bullets.
Cort, though, thought Butterfield meant it. “So there's five of us. Five is good.”
Ben just shook his head. “It ain't enough. It ain't nearly enough.”
“Pa!” Lachlan was at the door.
“That's my boy.” Lachlan paused briefly, thinking how he was in love with Cort’s daughter but
right now Cort believed he was his son. It was all so…odd. Oh, Hope, where are you? We need
you desperately.
“They're coming,” he announced, “They're coming this way. I seen 'em.”
“Where?” the marshal asked.
“About a mile out. Same way we come.” Lachlan was saying his lines while all the while lines
from another movie were flashing in his head. Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You’re our only hope.
Hope. Was Hope their only hope?
“How many are there?” The marshal turned from the window.
“Seven. Eight.”
“Which is it, boy? Seven or eight?”
“Seven.”
Marshal Doane went downstairs and began ushering hotel guests and diners out the door. One
of his deputies was looking out a window as Charlie and the gang rode into town. “There sure
are a lot of 'em. I didn't figure on it being the whole gang.”
“Boss, Boss, you in there?” Charlie got a nod from the hotel clerk through the window
indicating where Ben was being kept.
Ah, Charlie. Ben looked over at Dan. “What do you want me to tell him?”
“You tell him you'll write him a letter every day from Yuma.” Ben smiled at that.
“You be careful, Wade,” Cort ordered, getting his rifle in position at the other window.
Ben moved over to sit on the windowsill, looking down at his mounted gang in the street.
“Charlie. Boys.”
“Charlie, why don't you take the boys down to the saloon and buy 'em a drink.” His voice was
pleasant, relaxed.
“You okay?” Charlie asked.
“Oh, I'm fine. I'm just sittin' up here with my four new friends.” He let Charlie know how
many men there were.
“Hey, that’s enough!” Cort stopped him from saying anything else.
“Thank you, Charlie. Boys.”
“Listen up!” Charlie shouted. “That’s Ben Wade they have up there. Ben…Wade.”
Charlie made his offer to the townsfolk of $200 to any man who would shoot one of Ben’s captors. There were plenty takers but they had to shoot them first.
While Charlie was making his offer, Jack, Alex and Tarwyn slipped into town. They headed for
the hotel but Dee called from an upstairs window in a different building. “Come around back
and I’ll let you in.”
They were so worn they could barely climb the stairs. “Everybody’s here!” Tarwyn exclaimed.
“Alex, I’m sure glad to see you,” John smiled. Marie was cleaning his wound and bandaging
him up.
“John, Bud…hot damn we made it!” Alex felt better about things now.
Jack sank wearily into a chair. “General…have we a plan to save Cort? It’s nearly time.”
“I am afraid, Captain, that at this point there is no plan. We have been so occupied trying to
keep Alex and John and Bud alive, have we not, and simply covering the distances involved,
that there has been no time to plan for the ending of this film. If only…”
“I know,” Caroline said. “If only Hope were here.”
The marshal looked out the window. “There’s gotta be 30, more guns out there now. Oh, to hell
with this!”
Terry spoke up, “Now just a minute, Marshal.”
“Look, look if it’s a fair fight, well, sure. I’d stay for that. A fair fight, that’s a man’s duty, but
there’s only five of us. I’m sorry, mister, but I’m not gonna die here today and neither are my
men.”
Cort picked up the marshal’s badge and tossed it at him. “Marshal…forgot this.” His heart was
sinking. Now it would be only him and Butterfield getting Wade to the station.
Terry went after the marshal and his men. “Marshal, marshal, what the…”
“Now, you see, Dan...generally, pretty much everyone wants to live. I'll double your money.”
Ben would do that.
“Let’s go, boys.” The marshal started toward the stairs. “Please, do you want to see us shot down
in the street? This thing happened in Bisbee. That means Butterfield, too. Why bring your
troubles to Contention? We’ve got families. Every one of us is a family man.”
Terry looked pained. “I’m a family man, too.”
Ben looked at Cort. Butterfield was lacking. “He's gonna walk out on you.”
“Then you’d better get out like the rest of us.” The marshal opened the door. He and his men
were going to turn themselves over to Ben’s gang.
As Butterfield had done, Terry took a step toward the door. Then the gang opened fire.
Ben still hoped he could talk Dan out of what he was intending. He knew good and well it would
cost the rancher his life. Somehow he didn’t want that for Dan. “He's gonna come back up here,
and he's gonna walk out on you. Now what you gotta figure is why you and your boy are gonna
die. Because Butterfield's railroad lost some money?”
“Is that all of ‘em?” Charlie called up to Ben.
Cort was roiling with emotions. “Get inside!”
Ben called down one more word to Charlie. “Almost.” Then he moved away from the window,
looking at Dan. “Your move, General.”
Something…strange…went through Cort when Ben called him that. He had no idea why, but
the word meant…something. He staggered slightly and Lachlan took his arm. “What do you
expect him to say?” he asked Ben, genuinely feeling anger for the intolerable situation.
Ben looked at Lachlan very seriously. “I expect him to say something that makes sense.
Something that might save the two of you.” He gestured toward the window. “Take a look, Dan.
What's the matter? You don't wanna see?”
Cort was feeling somewhat nauseous. “I'll see 'em soon enough.”
Ben turned his attention to Lachlan. “What about you, kid? You wanna look?”
No! Cort didn’t want his son looking down at Ben’s gang. “You stay away from the window,
William!”
“Go on, take a look,” Ben urged, needing Dan’s son to see the truth of what was waiting for them
in the street. Lachlan ignored Cort and peered out the window. “Animals, all of 'em. They're
gonna kill you and your father, William. They're gonna laugh while they do it. I think you know
that.”
Oh, how Lachlan knew that. “Call 'em off.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you're not all bad.” Was he? Lachlan wasn’t sure. He’d never met anybody like Ben.
He was his brother, yes, but somehow still so alien.
“Yes, I am,” Ben said quietly.
“You saved us from those Indians.” He had done that. Yes.
“I saved myself.” Lachlan wasn’t sure about that, either. Ben had helped Cort back to the
campfire when he could have left him out there in the dark for the Apache to find.
“You got us through the tunnels,” he pointed out. “You helped us get away.”
“If I'd had a gun in them tunnels, I would have used it on you.” How could he convince the kid?
“I don't believe you.”
“Kid, I wouldn't last five minutes leading an outfit like that if I wasn't as rotten as hell.”
Lachlan sighed at Ben’s words. There did have to be some truth to that.
Terry came back into the room. One last try. “Dan? I can’t do it, Dan. And if I can’t do it, you
shouldn’t do it either. They say discretion is the better part of valor. If you think you have an
obligation to me or to the railroad, I assure you, you do not. I’m releasing you.”
Ben had known it was coming down to this. “It's just you left, Dan. Just you and your boy.”
Lachlan knew the words he must say, also knew they wouldn’t change a thing. “Maybe he's
right, Pa. Maybe we should go home.”
Home. Ah, well. No. As much as he wanted to be there. No. “Well, what did Doc Potter give his
life for, William? And McElroy?”
Ben cared nothing for either of those. “Little red ants on a hill.”
“I’ll pay you the $200 right now and you can walk away,” Terry tried once again.
Cort sighed and began to talk about what he’d been paid by the government for the loss of his
leg…just under the $200 he was now being offered to quit, not to do what he’d set himself to do.
“They were paying me so they could walk away.”
Ben didn’t like where Dan was going with it. It was going to get him killed. “Don't muddy the
past and the present, Dan.”
But Cort was set on his course. “No, no, no, Wade. I'm seeing the world the way it is.”
“If you take him to the train, Pa, I'm going with you.”
But Cort wasn’t having it. His son needed to live so he told him that Butterfield would take him
across the hall until the thing was done.
“I’ll get him to Bisbee, Dan.” Terry promised.
Cort figured he was going to die. It seemed inevitable, so he told Butterfield what he wanted,
things that would assure his land would not be lost, his family would survive.
“I can deliver that.” Terry looked at Cort. “Just get him on the train.”
When Cort was assured that Ben, too, had heard Butterfield’s promises, he pulled Alice’s pin
out of his pocket, handing it to Lachlan, telling him to give it back to his mother and that it
helped him find what was right. Lachlan didn’t want to leave him but he said he’d be a day
behind him and if for some reason he wasn’t, then he needed a man there on the farm.
“I know you can do that because you've become a fine man, William. You got all the best parts
of me. What few there are. And you just remember that your old man walked Ben Wade to that
station when nobody else would.”
Ben listened to every word between the father and the son, thinking of his own father, his own
childhood and how very different it all had been. He wanted Dan to live, to go back to his family.
He really did. This was the different thing he’d found after Bisbee. He’d discovered a man
whom he wanted to live.
John gave over his seat in the infirmary to Alex so he could get his hands attended to. Bud was
on the bed so he sat down in the floor and leaned against the wall. Across from him Tarwyn
simply sat down and went to sleep. Dee brought up an enormous pot of coffee and a string of
tin cups.
“Ah, coffee! Just what I needed. Thank you, Diedre.” Jack gratefully took the cup of hot coffee.
“I do not know why but I have a feeling we should head for the train.”
John heard him. “That’s where Cort’s Dan gets shot dead. I feel the same way, Jack. The train
is important. Too bad we threw away my shovel shield. Thanks, Dee.” He took a cup in his left
hand. “Not that Cort would use it.”
“Thanks, doll.” Alex flexed his tight-feeling fingers. Marie had covered his hands in salve and
wrapped bandages around them, leaving his fingers free.
“Can you manage a cup, Alex?” Dee asked.
“Maybe…if I can’t you, can hold it for me.” He looked up with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Your eyes are too bloodshot to be batting them at me. Give it a go.”
Alex took the cup and held it carefully. “Maybe I need to put my gloves on. Don’t want to spill
hot coffee on my burns. They’re in my coat pocket.”
Dee held them while he gingerly slipped his hands inside. “Are you okay, Alex?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m as well as anybody else.”
Maximus was concerned. Cort was walking into deathly peril and most of the men he was with
were wounded and all of them were exhausted, including himself. “I do think it is necessary for
us to be at the train. I know I cannot remain here while Cort faces his death.”
“The way I see it, General,” Jack used his title, “the train is where Cort is heading and if I am
correct nothing will happen to him until he reaches it. Would it not be best if we were there to
perhaps interfere with Wade’s men and prevent the shooting? We may, if we are lucky, even
pick off a few on the way. I know we are none of us in any condition to fight. I suggest we send
the women and the wounded around the back way…away from the main street. But the train,
Sir, is of vast importance. I cannot explain it.”
John looked at Maximus. What Jack said was true…their only chance of saving Cort was at the
train.
Cort was seated in a chair near the window, looking as tense as Ben had ever seen any man.
“You know, squeezing that watch won't stop time.” Ben had looked up from what he was
sketching in the front of a hotel Bible.
Cort exploded in a quick move, hurling the pocket watch across the room. Ben barely blinked.
“Don't get so scared. You might back a bad move.”
Ben continued sketching as he spoke. “You ever read the Bible, Dan? I read it one time. I was
eight years old. My daddy just got hisself killed over a shot of whiskey, and my mama said,
‘We're going back East to start over.’ So she gave me a Bible, sat me down in the train station,
told me to read it. She was gonna get our tickets. Well, I did what she said. I read that Bible
from cover to cover. It took me three days. She never came back.” Finally he looked up at Dan
from under the brim of his hat. That was the most he’d shared about himself with any man.
Cort made no comment, just stood and announced, “It's time.”
“It's a half mile to the station from here, Dan,” Ben pointed out. “I guess we're walking.”
Cort was not only tense, he was feeling strange inside his head. Looking at Ben reminded him
of someone…some man he’d once known. He couldn’t remember just who and that bothered
him more than he figured it should. He tried to shrug it off as he followed Ben down the stairs
and to the back door of the hotel, where they paused briefly, looking through its window at the
alleyway and the nearby rooftops.
They’d hardly gone out into the alley when shots rang out accompanied by shouts of “There
he is!” A bullet zinged into the very tip of one of Cort’s boots and he felt the sting of it but there
was no time to register the why of that, why a wooden foot would feel a sting.
It was almost ridiculous, the number of weapons being fired. Cort and Ben were quickly pinned
behind some barrels. “Perhaps you can explain to me the next portion of your plan, Dan,” Ben
said rather wryly.
Terry stood against a doorway. He knew it was his last shot in the film. Lachlan had already
gone. He dashed for the dance hall. Most of the shooting was farther down the street.
“Dee!” he called as he ran up the stairs. “Oh, thank God, you’re all here!”
“All accounted for, Terry.” Dee went to him and hugged him.
“Okay, I know you are all completely trashed but we need to get down to the train and try and
prevent Cort’s death. Can you make it, John, Alex? Bud…how are you man?”
"I am not quite sure, Terry. If we make it out of this hellhole, maybe Canfield can count my
intestines and see how many I've still got and how many I've left along the fuckin' trail."
Jack had Tarwyn on her feet. She quickly finished the cup of coffee he had. “Wha…what are
we doing?” she asked.
“We’re going to make a dash for it. Going to the train.”
Armed, they all went down the stairs and carefully made their way up the alley. They had to
cross the street and get behind the buildings on the other side. Shots were still being wildly
fired.
“Hey, hey!” Charlie Prince shouted. “Not the black hat! The rancher, you dumb-shits. The
rancher!”
Terry was the first to go across with Dee and John. He fired down the street as he ran.
Alex had a rifle under his arm. Jack turned to Tarwyn, “Go with Alex.”
“No, I’ll go when you go.”
“Don’t argue with me, not now. Just do as I say.”
With Tarwyn across with Alex he motioned for Terry to come back across. There were two
women and Maximus, who was supporting Bud, to get across. Terry could help Maximus and
he’d get the women across.
Cort could see a doorway across the alley. They needed more cover than the barrels, so he
kicked over the one in front of him, calling to Ben, “The white door! Move it!”
As Ben went through the door, a bullet took him high on his arm, spattering his blood on the
whiteness of the paint. He was done. He’d been trying to keep Dan alive but now his personal
safety was truly in danger and he was hurt. “I ain't doing this no more, Dan.”
Cort was stubborn. “I'm getting you on that train, Wade.”
Ben tried one last bit of reasoning, but his patience was gone. “Your son went back. The boy's
gone, hero. Ain't nobody watching no more. You still got that one good leg. Why don't you use
it to get on home?”
He turned his back on Cort, calling out, “Charlie! Charlie Prince!”
“Yeah, Boss!” Charlie called back.
“Hold your fire. I'm walking out.” But Cort grabbed him roughly from behind and the two
men rolled on the floor, grappling for their lives. Ben got a strangle hold on Cort and was
squeezing the life out of him.
“I ain't never been no hero, Wade,” Cort gasped. His mind was racing wildly with thoughts
he didn’t understand, but the words kept coming out of his mouth. He felt oddly detached from
what he was saying. “The only battle I seen, we was in retreat. My foot got shot off by one of
my own men. You try telling that story to your boy. See how he looks at you then.”
"Boss! Boss!"
“Okay, Dan,” Ben sighed, sitting back, letting his grip on Cort’s neck go slack. No one had ever
affected him like this rancher. He was amazed at himself. He was actually going to let the man
put him on the train. He’d been shot and yet he was still going to do this thing. It was his
amazement at himself that was the impetus.
"They're on the roofs!"
"Boss! Drop!"
With a gun in one hand and Tarwyn’s hand in the other Jack was running behind the buildings.
Bullets were pinging off everywhere. From time to time he pushed her against a building and
waited for the others to catch up. Alex…what the hell was he doing? “Alex?” he called out.
“I can take him out!” Alex aimed his gun at Charlie Prince. He really wanted to kill him. The
son of a bitch almost roasted him.
Terry caught up with him. “No, you can’t! You can’t change the script. Get your ass down to
the train.”
Somehow Ben and Dan had made it to the rooftops and were leaping the small spaces between
buildings when they came to a much larger gap. Ben immediately thought of Dan’s wooden foot.
“Can you make this?”
Cort was feeling almost dazed, but he replied, “Yeah,” and he and Ben backed up a few steps
then made a running leap, ending up sliding down a steep roof and falling to the ground below.
They made a mad dash through a large area of construction, Ben going fast in front of Cort.
Cort ran, yes, but the upright frames of the buildings seemed like skeletons to him and he
thought of a giant T-Rex he’d seen somewhere. What? What was he thinking? Montana came
to mind as he ran. He’d never been to Montana…had he?
Cort fell hard just outside the door of the tiny station and Ben reached out, dragging him inside,
then pushed a large desk in front of the window.
Cort shook his head, pushing himself to a seated position against the wall. He felt like he should
ask what the time was, so he did, and the stationmaster answered, “About 10 past 3.”
Jack made it to the station and was obliged to shoot back at somebody pinging bullets off the
side of the building. “Get over there with the barrels and trunks! When the train pulls to a stop
get on it!” he instructed John and Dee and whoever else was behind him.
Cort shook his head again. “Where’s the 3:10 to Yuma?” What…was…the 3:10 to Yuma?
Suddenly he didn’t know.
The stationmaster replied, “Running late, I suppose.”
“How late?” Cort asked. It seemed important that he ask.
“Beats me. Gets here when it gets here.”
Ben smiled, “Goddamn trains. Never can rely on 'em, huh?”
Hope was feeling her way along one of the blue walls when she stopped. She’d been going about
this all wrong. She’d been accepting the walls as solid, but suddenly she realized they were not.
Sid had only made her believe they were. It was a mental trick, a mind game. Sid was a master
at those. She'd been aware for a little while of a need in her father's mind and she was directing
something toward him that was slowly dissolving what Sid had done to make him think he was
Dan.
Ah! Sid was aware of her epiphany. He sat back, waiting to see how his little performance art
would work itself out. Perhaps having rats for future labs was not such a bad idea. Que sera
sera.
“You know...” Cort began, but seemed to be losing the thought his mouth was trying to express.
“I ain't stubborn.” He stopped. Why would he be talking about that?”
“Excuse me?” Ben responded and Cort looked across the small room at him.
“Do I know you?”
Ben felt jarred to his core by the question. There was something just so…not right…about it.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked. Yes, that was the right thing to ask.
“I don't know,” Cort said vaguely, leaning his head back against the wall. “I guess I just...my
toe is stinging.”
Ben bit his lip. Dan’s toe couldn’t be stinging. Dan didn’t have a toe there. He felt driven to
say, “Well, as long as we're making confessions...” but Cort interrupted him.
“You look like Ben Wade, you know.”
Of course I look like Ben Wade, Ben thought. I am Ben Wade! “I've been to Yuma Prison
before. Twice. Escaped twice, too.” There! He breathed a sigh of relief with no idea just why
he felt so relieved.
Hope reached out her hand and it went right through the blue wall. Yes.
The engine belched its way alongside the station, accompanied by smoke and whistles and loud
chugging sounds. “The Little Engine That Could,” Cort smiled. “I used to read that to…”
Somebody. He’d read that many times to somebody.
The stationmaster, trying to be helpful, trying actually to get these men out of his station,
supplied, “First car, sliding door.”
Lachlan was watching from the stockyards, peering between the fencing. Oh, God! What was
going to happen to Cort? No one had done anything to keep Charlie’s bullets from plowing into
him. He did what he was supposed to do, what he knew William had seen Ben himself do to stop
the coach. He fired his gun and hollered for the cattle to move out. Soon they were running
between the town and the station, a moving wall of protection so that Cort could make it to the
train.
Cort ran up to the open door of the boxcar. He was supposed to say something to the man
looking down at him but he couldn’t seem to remember what it was, so he said nothing.
Ben got up into the car, taking off his jacket and turning back to the iron barstraps. “Well, you
did it, Dan,” he smiled. Then he saw Charlie and the look in Charlie’s eyes and he opened his
mouth and bellowed, “NO!”
Charlie’s Schofields were raised in shooting position and he had a grin on his face that changed
to open-mouthed shock when the rancher suddenly wasn’t there where he’d been standing.
Ben didn’t look behind himself. There was no reason to, but if he had, he would have seen Cort
sitting there on the bench, shaking his head, blinking his eyes, almost reeling forward but for
the hand of a dark-haired young woman holding him upright. “Daddy,” she murmured softly.
He looked down at the woman, blinked twice more, then murmured, "Hope?"
“NOW!” Terry shouted. They all ran to the boxcar and climbed aboard. He’d seen Cort
disappear. It had to be Hope. He fervently prayed it was Hope and not Sid.
Lachlan had been watching, had seen Cort disappear just as though…just as though…”Hope!”
he shouted aloud, then laughed, really, really laughed. He got down off the rails and ran for
the boxcar, circling past Ben, who had gotten off the train and was standing there, looking
bewilderedly down at the Hand of God, which Charlie had just tossed to him.
Lachlan saw Hope kneeling in front of Cort and he said his last lines, knowing that afterwards
he would be free. He said them with a huge, sloppy grin on his face. “You done it, Pa. You done
it. You got him on the train, Pa.”
Ben looked blankly at Charlie, who was muttering, “For a one-leg rancher…he’s one tough son
of a bitch.” He didn’t know why he said it. Everything seemed wrong. Then he looked over at
Ben, who was rubbing his thumb back and forth across the silver crucifix embedded in the
handle of his gun. Ben closed his eyes for a long, long moment and Charlie, waited, not knowing
what else to do.
Ben slowly let his lids rise and shot his entire gang, then walked up to Charlie, taking one of
his Schofields, and shooting him point blank in his chest. He had to. That was it. He simply had
to. He turned, expecting to see Lachlan, but Lachlan had already hopped up into the car. Ben
felt dizzy, like he might just fall down, but he walked slowly to the car and looked in. It was
full of people, including several women. He thought he might ask where the hell they’d all come
from, but he didn’t. He just got up into the car himself. Then he saw the rancher. Then he saw
that the rancher looked like him, that all the men in the car looked very much like him. He bit
his tongue between his lips.
The engine jerked itself a couple of times, then started down the track. A black horse ran after
it, but the yellow car simply disappeared.
DIRECTLY CONTINUED AS BACK ON TRACK
BACK TO PART 4
BACK TO NANOCORP INDEX
BACK TO LIBRISCROWE