Great and Terrible Things

"A fair point," I sighed, coming to a decision. I know had a plan. It wasn't one I liked, but it was the only one available to me. "Stall him as long as you can."

The sergeant major nodded in understanding as I turned and ran toward the back of the hotel. He'd do his part and stop Alby and his men from entering the hotel and killing everyone as long as he could. It was my job get outside and do what I'd been trained to do. That starting with scouting and finding out the strength and weaknesses of the enemy.

Alby wasn't stupid. He'd sent someone to the back entrance of the hotel to make sure no one slipped out that way just like I expected. On the other hand, the man he sent was as dumb as stone. First, he was standing way too close to the door. And second, he seemed more interested in the flask he was carrying than keeping an eye on the exit. On a positive note, at least for him, is that his stupidity saved his life.

Abigail wasn't the only one with a knife. Mine didn't have quite the history of hers, but I had plenty of practice with it over the years. I was fully prepared to kill whoever Alby left to block the back exit if necessary, but it wasn't and I didn't take lives haphazardly. The man would probably hang if he took part in the deaths of the councilmen and Mr. Townsend, but that was for a judge to decide.

I saw the fool begin to take a swig from the flask and rushed him. He didn't even notice me until I was on him. One quick rap with the knife hilt behind his ear and he was unconscious. I didn't have a much time so I left him where he fell. This would all be over one way or another by the time be woke up.

My cussing was silent, but heart felt when I saw the rifle he'd been carrying. It was something William probably used back when he was in the service, only I'm sure William would have kept his in much better shape. It was an 1853 Enfield Rifle Musket. I'd seen plenty of these pointed in my direction in the hands of the Confederate soldiers.

The lock plate said that this particular rifle was manufactured in 1863, but the bottom line was that even if it was brand new and in perfect shape, it wouldn't have been much use. It was a single shot rifle musket and I could reload my Peacemaker far faster than I could it. That didn't stop me from bringing the it along. Seven bullets were a lot better than six, assuming it didn't blow up in my hands when I used it.

The way I figured it, the fact that Alby hadn't seen fit to make sure that the man I just knocked out had a more useful weapon meant that he knew the man was a drunk and a fool. It followed that he'd chosen this man to cover the back door because he didn't trust him out front where the fighting was supposed to occur.

Alby probably figured that he'd hear the Enfield go off and come running if we tried to escape out the back. Why else would he only send a single man to cover this exit? It's not like we'd get far with Miles broken ribs and William's gunshot leg even if we got a head start.

Truth be told, it's not like even a well-armed man at the back door could have stopped us if we rushed him. Alby didn't take into consideration that we might taking out his all but useless cohort silently, or the fact that we'd send out one person to scout while the rest of us stayed in the hotel. He was a gunslinger, not a soldier. That was going to cost him in the end.

The sun was still in the sky as I ran silently in parallel to the main street for a couple of buildings before making my way back to the front of them. Thankfully, the townsfolk who built Twisted River were smart enough not to have all the buildings butting against each other. Not only was it safer in case of fire, but it made sneaking around a lot simpler.

I made sure that when I came out onto the main street, the sun would be at my back. It was too high to be of much use and the sky was somewhat cloudy, but I'd take whatever advantage I could find.

I took a couple of seconds to catch my breath before slipping around the corner of the building. I stayed hidden and low to the ground as I took in Alby and his men. There were six of them in plain sight which wasn't nearly as bad as I feared, but that didn't stop me from cussing silently once more.

I was sorely missing my Winchester. My only real chance was surprise. I needed two hands to fire the Enfield. The time it would take me to drop it afterward and draw my Peacemaker would get me killed, no doubt about it. That meant I couldn't use it. That left me with only my colt pistol. Six targets, six bullets. So be it.

'Who am I kidding? That won't work.' It would be a miracle for me to hit all six men with one bullet each, much less kill them all. Besides, there could be another dozen men hiding out of sight. I needed to finish scouting the area before deciding how to deal with Alby and his friends.

I could hear the sergeant major and Alby still talking, but I couldn't make out the words. That wasn't a big deal as long as Robert kept Murphy distracted. I knew it wouldn't last forever. Frankly, I was surprised it had last this long already.

I'd reconnoitered as quickly as I could. Thankfully, there was plenty of cover and all six men in sight were so focused on the hotel that none of them noticed me. It showed how inexperienced they really were.

Alby's men carried a mix of guns and rifles. I noticed that Luther was with them. His hand was bandaged, but I guess it wasn't that bad since he was carrying a shotgun. In fact, his was the only one in sight. That made him number two on my list when the bullets started flying again because the spread of lead was damn near impossible to avoid when someone shoots at you with a scattergun.

I didn't see Thomas or the giant who'd been holding Clementine earlier. I had a gut feeling that the big man wasn't with Alby tonight. He'd been too guilt ridden when Abigail confronted him, but I had a hard time believing Thomas wasn't somewhere around here. Alby would want him here to either take the blame or help defuse his uncle's anger in the aftermath of what he was planning.

I was moving quickly and quietly, but still, it took time for me to check out the most dangerous places someone could be hiding without being caught. My persistence was rewarded when I finally spotted Thomas holding the horses behind one of the buildings on the other side of the street.

Alby must have sent him to get them as soon as the shooting started. It made sense. First, it would keep his cousin out of danger which was important because the way everyone described Michael Murphy, he wouldn't take kindly to Alby getting his son killed. And second, it would let them get out of town quickly if the need arose.

I was happy to have finally found Thomas because I knew he'd be around somewhere and was getting worried. The last time I looked two of Alby's men were wrapping oily rags around sticks. Clearly, he was finally out of patience with Robert's stall tactics and was preparing to actually set the hotel on fire, despite how crazy that sounded. I had to do something and soon.

First things first. I refocused on Thomas and grinned to myself when I saw that he was carrying a sawed off, double-barreled shotgun like Robert's. That decided me. I needed some extra firepower and the Enfield simply wouldn't do. Thomas's shotgun was a much better choice. It had two rounds that would do a lot more damage. It was also a lot easier to load.

I placed the Enfield on crate I was hiding behind and drew my colt, feeling much better and safer with it in my hand. I didn't need the rifle musket to face Thomas and at least I knew that if I chose to shoot, my Peacemaker would work. Of course, if I did have to use it then the element of surprise was lost and so was any chance of me surviving the day. I could live with that, but the idea of Abigail and her family having to face a monster like Ably after I was gone made my stomach churn.

Thomas was too out in the open for me to sneak up on him. Plus, I was out of time. He was only sixteen so I gambled. I pointed my Peacemaker at his head and broke out into the open and toward him.

"One cry, one squeak and you're a dead man." I kept my voice calm, but let him know I was serious. "If the barrel of that shotgun shifts toward me, you're a dead man. Hell, if you do anything at all, you're dead kid."

Thankfully, the teenager froze. So far, so good. I moved toward him at a steady pace. I didn't want to make any sudden motions and scare him into doing something stupid, but I was running out of time.

"Here, take it," Thomas said, surprising me by holding out the shotgun, stock toward me. "I don't want it. I don't want anything to do with any of this. I'm done with Alby and his insanity. I realized that this afternoon when I'd sobered up enough to understand what I'd almost done to Miles. I was just too scared of my cousin to back out tonight." I was pretty sure the boy was being honest. Good for him.

"Thanks," I said, taking the shotgun from him. I then hit Thomas in the head with the butt of my Peacemaker, twice. Once probably would have done the trick, but he had beaten an unconscious Miles earlier. Thomas was drunk at the time, but I never allowed that as an excuse with the men who served under me and I sure as hell wasn't going to start now with the Murphy boy, despite his remorse.

I grabbed the reins of the horses, sorely tempted to climb up on the best of them. I always felt better facing the enemy on horseback, but none of these mounts were trained for it. They'd all most likely rear and bolt as the sounds of gunfire. That didn't stop them from being useful.

I took a moment to rifle Thomas's pockets. I found a few more cartridges for the shotgun which was good news. Unfortunately, it was the only gun he had, which was the bad news. Still it was better than the Enfield, but only marginally so since there were still six men in the street waiting for me and I was pretty sure I'd need more than eight shots to take them all out. The only problem was that I was out of time.

I quickly led the horses to the alleyway that came out right across from the hotel. I needed a distraction with the number of men I'd be facing. They were it. Of course, there was only one way I was going to get them all running in the right direction. I stood behind the horses and pointed the shotgun into the air. I had more bullets for the Peacemaker, but reloading it took too much time.

I began working on a plan in my head the moment this all started. Each time I discovered something new I revised it to give me the best chance of winning. I'd been trained to do that my entire adult life. That didn't mean I liked the odds I'd ended up with, but it was what it was.

I fired the shotgun into the air and reloaded the empty chamber on the run as I followed the horses onto the main street. I was yelling loud to make sure the horses kept moving. I snapped the breach of the shotgun closed with no time to spare as I passed out from between the buildings and took in what was happening.

The plan was to take out Alby first because he was probably the best shot and had two guns. Besides, it always paid to take out the officers first. I'd seen plenty of attacks fail when the man in charge was killed early. It shouldn't be too hard with him standing in the middle of the street facing the hotel.

After that, I was gunning for Luther, but only because he had the shotgun. The fact that he'd manhandled Billy earlier and said some unkind things to Abigail had nothing to do with the decision, but that didn't mean I wouldn't enjoy putting him down just a little more than the rest.

Last I saw Luther, he was standing across the street from the hotel on the far side near some cover. The two guys making the torches were closer to the hotel while the other two were both in the street on my side. I chose to come out in the middle of them on purpose. One man can't face six men in a stand-up battle and expect to win. The only way this was going to work is if it happened hard, fast and ugly.

The first difficulty became apparent as soon as I came out from between the buildings. I had hoped that the shotgun blast and horses would distract the two men ready to set fire to the hotel. It had, but only momentarily because Alby was yelling at them to do it. Worse, someone had poured oil onto the front of the building so if the flames touched, the wooden hotel would go up like a beacon.

They say that no plan survives contact with the enemy. I didn't buy into that. A plan just needed to be flexible enough to adjust to new information. Alby and Luther shifted down to targets three and fourth at the torch throwers moved to the top of my list because they were only seconds away from starting the fire.

My first shotgun blast took one of them out almost immediately. The second missed its target, but only because the man dove to the ground just as let loose at him. I threw the now empty shotgun at the head at the closest man pointing a gun my way and drew my Peacemaker. I shot him and then the torch wielder who was getting up to finish the job.

A bullet ricocheted pretty close to my head. Others struck nearby. One of the horses was down, obviously hit by a stray round. I'd learned long ago not to overreact to situations like this. On the other hand, I sure as hell didn't stand still to give the shooters another chance at me.

Only God knew why, but one of the horses was close at hand. I guess maybe he was confused by the sound of guns going off from multiple locations. Whatever the reason, I grabbed hold of its saddle horn with my free hand.

I wasn't stupid enough to climb up on the horse and make myself an easy target for Alby and his friends. What I did do was slap the mount's backside with the Peacemaker. The horse lurched forward, dragging me with him. That made him a shield between me, Alby and Luther as he dragged me toward cover. Unfortunately, that left the one remaining cowboy behind me.

I felt the burn of a bullet creasing my ribs. I ignored the pain and fired my Peacemaker. I don't really remember aiming it at the man. After so many years of fighting, some things happened instinctually. I wasn't sure how much of it was skill and how much of it was luck, but the bottom line was that the man dropped his gun and hit the ground hard.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to congratulate myself because Alby decided he'd had enough. He shot my shield out from in front of me. Two bullets, one from each of his Scofields hit the horse full on. It staggered and fell.

I followed it to the ground, continuing to use it as cover. The sad truth was that I'd had practice doing exactly this on more than one occasion. A cavalry horse was actually trained to lie down and give its rider cover on command.

I surprised Alby when I dropped to the ground and his next two shots missed me completely. I fired at him, but he dove away at the last second. That's when Luther stepped out from his cover and used his shotgun. I saw it coming and hunkered down behind the dead horse. The poor dead beast took the brunt of the damage.

That was Luther's second shot. I knew that because of the distinctive difference in sound a shotgun makes when it goes off, but I wasn't sure if he took the time to reload after firing the first round. I doubted it, but it was possible with a shotgun. I'd done it myself on a dead run only moments ago. Of course, I had a lot more experience and my hand wasn't bandaged, but I couldn't chance it. I fired and hit him low in the stomach.

I didn't regret shooting Luther whether his gun was loaded or not. He deserved it. What I did regret was having to use the bullet because that only left me with one round. Alby had used the distraction to get back on his feet and shift.

Not only wasn't the dead horse fully shielding me any longer, but he was using a barrel in front of the store next to the hotel for cover. I might be able to hit him with my remaining bullet, but not critically. Alby was holding his pistols out, both pointed at me, but for some reason he didn't fire. Instead, he grinned.

"That's five. Are you out?"

"Maybe, maybe not," I shrugged, stalling for time, hoping to get a better shot with my last bullet.

"You're bleeding." I saw the hungry look in his eyes as his grin twisted into something darker. He was staring at my blood-soaked shirt.

"I took one in the side," I replied calmly, which wasn't the full truth. The bullet had just grazed me, but he didn't need to know that. He should have figured it out based on how slowly I was bleeding. I would have, but Alby was too excited by the sight to notice. "Which I figure is a fair trade for killing all your men."

"Why don't we settle this like real men?" He clearly knew I was stalling. I saw him relax considerably. That didn't mean he put down the guns or stepped out into the open. Alby was a twisted, sadistic shit. He wasn't stupid.

"What do you have in mind?"

"We holster our guns, step out into the open and face each other. If I'm wrong, and you still have a bullet then you'll have a chance at killing me, if you're quick enough." He was clearly confident that he was faster on the draw. He was probably right too, but a gunfight wasn't only about speed.

I didn't bother asking Alby what he got out of doing it this way. I could see the answer in his eyes. He'd become fixated on me at our earlier confrontation in the hotel when I'd stood up to him, unafraid. I pointed a gun at his head and got away with it, and he hated me with a passion because of it. That much was obvious.

There was also the fact that Alby had a huge ego and viewed himself as a gunslinger. Killing me out in the open in a showdown would add to his reputation. I'm sure he thought it was his just due.

There might have been a few other reasons involved in his decision making, but in the end, I knew that the most telling was that with the kind of sickness Alby had, standing and facing each other would give him a better view of me dying. I'm sure in his mind that would make the kill even sweeter.

Alby was taking a chance by facing me out in the open, but to his mind, it wasn't much of one. Worse case, I had one bullet left against however many were still in his guns. I knew he'd used both guns twice, once to kill the horse I used as a shield and once at me afterward. He might have shot at me earlier, but only once more. That still left two rounds in each Scofield.

I was also wounded. He probably figured that would slow me down some. It wouldn't, but in the long run that probably didn't matter much. Alby was faster than me and we both knew it. He should be. I had him by almost twenty years, plus speed drawing was never something I put much effort in. I was a soldier, not a gunslinger. You could tell that by the simple fact that if I'd been in his shoes I would have shot him dead from behind the barrel.

"Okay," I agreed, holstering my gun and standing slowly, making my wound look worse than it was.

Some might wonder why I'd agreed to face him the way he wanted considering how much the odds were stacked against me. The answer to that was easy. It was better than lying there and being gunned down like a dog while he hid behind cover. A soldier took full advantage of whatever was available to make his chances of winning better.

Others might think I was downright crazy for holstering my gun while he had both of his still trained on me. The explanation for that was a little trickier. If he'd wanted to simply kill me he could have done that already. By holstering my gun and standing, not only had I committed myself to the showdown he suggested, but in a way, I was doing the same for him. That didn't mean I wasn't watching him, ready for whatever came.

Alby hesitated for only a moment before stepping out from cover and holstering his guns. He was grinning again, confident in his success. He remained close to the building next to the hotel while I stood in the middle of the street next to the dead horse. We stood there about fifteen paces apart, facing each other in silence.