The Man and The Outlaw

Chapter Nine

It had grown close to dark by the time they were closing in on Spencer once again. Shadows had grown long around them as they entered the final stretch, a long sloped piece of The Trail broken up by a small crop of trees on the right side of the landscape. They rode at a nice and steady walk and Clara could see that Mae kept nodding into a doze with her chin against her chest, her horse carrying on regardless of her lack of steering.
The darkness was much thicker behind them, and they didn't catch sight of the three riders swooping up on them until it was too late. Clara heard hoofbeats before she realized the danger.
"You hear that?" she asked, turning to see that Walker was also aware of horses rushing towards them from behind.
They hadn't quite reached the place where the trees would offer them protection, the edge of the forest was still thirty yards or so away, when a warning shot rang out and the three riders encircled them. They were trapped.
"Y'ALL MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVES AND WE'LL BLOW YOUR HEADS OFF," came a shout from one of them. He circled around to the front of the group and Clara got her first good look at him in the darkening night.
He sat atop a black horse, his features hidden by a Stetson hat and a bandanna tied over his face. She could tell he was a short man, even in the saddle. She could also see why he was talking in such a loud, disjointed tone of voice. There were thick cotton plugs in his ears, the white of the material shining brightly in the thickening dark beneath the crops of red hair that stuck out from beneath his hat. He carried two pistols and was aiming them at the group before him, one lingering on Clara and the other on Loren.
Looking around at their situation, Loren muttered to Clara, "Four on three ain't bad odds."
Mae looked visibly shaken and terribly alone on her horse, her hands trembling as she held the reigns too tightly. Walker's features had hardened to steel as he too looked around at their intimidators. His hand seemed to twitch, longing to draw the gun at his hip and make his presence felt by those against him.
"We're unprotected out here and they've got the jump on us," Clara murmured back in as calm a voice she could muster. "Let's just see what they want, figure a way out of this that don't involve slinging lead."
"Look at their ears," Walker hissed at her, having noticed what Clara had already seen. He too seemed to realize that this was no ordinary stick up. It didn't sit right with either of them that these men had come prepared for a Silvertongue. They'd been watching her, had known what she was, and still here they were. Clara thought again of the little purple flower and her stomach lurched with fear.
"What do you want?" Clara asked slowly, drawing out each word and emphasizing the movements of her lips so that the man in front of them could understand her. The two men that remained behind her and her friends were hard to see anyway, and they had the wrong view of the back of her head to be of any help with communication.
"WE AIN'T HERE FOR A DISCUSSION," the man said, still speaking too loudly because he couldn't hear himself and he wasn't used to it. His eyes were full of meanness and his trigger finger twitched like he could force it down any second without need for provocation. His gaze danced back and forth over the group, resting the longest on the scarf at Clara's neck.
There was an awkward silence where everybody just tried not to move. Clara was unsure how to continue to try to communicate with them while their hearing was inhibited. Either the redhead hadn't been able to read her lips and understand her or he'd chosen not to engage with the question she'd asked. Either way, the control was firmly out of their grasp, in favor of the men and their guns.
Finally, the redhead spoke again, saving them the trouble of trying something else.
"WE WANT THE GIRL. GIVE HER TO US REAL NICE AND FRIENDLY LIKE AND WE'LL LET THE REST OF YOUS LIVE," he shouted.
Clara and Mae exchanged a glance. What girl was he talking about? The plugs in their ears seemed to indicate Clara but if they knew Mae was travelling with a Silvertongue, then the protection would've been necessary anyway. Loren's face clouded.
"You just try and take her," he snarled, his mind going to Mae immediately. "I dare you."
Clara shot him a keep-your-cool look and turned calmly to the redhead.
"You ain't taking nobody so you better figure something else to ask for," she announced.
Then, because she knew he wouldn't be able to understand her words, she shook her head slowly and exaggeratedly. The redhead's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the pistol, and Clara heard the unmistakable sound of weapons cocking and readying to fire around her.
"WE AIN'T ASKING. YOU GOT TO THE COUNT OF FIVE TO SAVE YOURSELF A WHOLE MESS OF TROUBLE," he instructed fiercely.
"ONE."
"Clara, they ain't taking her," Loren snarled, antsy in his saddle to do something.
Clara didn't reply but was looking around, trying to find some means of escape. The trees to their right weren't far, but far enough that shots would be fired if they ran and there was a good chance, they wouldn't make it across the gap.
"TWO."
To their left, the ground sloped gently downward and fell off into a shallow valley and a dry creek bed, lined with thick set trees. It would be difficult to maneuver a horse through there at high speed but not impossible, if of course they could make it to the tree line.
"THREE."
There was no good option, no sure bet, and before Clara could open her mouth to make even a half-formed suggestion, Loren made his own decision.
As the redhead counted out "FOUR", Loren drew his gun. He was a quick draw and took the man, whose attention had drifted from Mae to Clara, by surprise. He fired a sharp shot and the man slouched over his horse. The animal took off and the air filled with the sounds of gunfire.
"Get to the creek bed!" Clara shouted. She'd drawn her own pistol and was firing as she whirled around to face the two men who'd kept themselves behind the group but were now charging forward. She felt bullets flying in the air around her, but she paid them no mind as she raced towards the sloped ground, Mae riding swiftly beside her.
Loren and Walker came behind them, still firing at the two men who were drawing back a ways, taking stock of the fact that they were now doubled in number. Mae and Clara reached the tree line first and jumped from their horses, pressing their backs firmly against two large oaks. There was nowhere to run, and they'd be higher targets if they stayed on the animals. Peering around the tree as she heard hoofbeats approaching, Clara caught sight of Walker and Loren riding side by side, almost to the trees. In the sudden stillness, the next shot was loud as thunder and Loren was struck, pitching from his horse and landing hard on the packed ground where he did not move.
The men had decided to take their chances and were bearing down on them again. Walker noticed too late that Loren was no longer beside him and, as he dismounted, Mae tore from the trees beside Clara before she could stop her.
"Mae, no!"
The two riders didn't shoot her as she burst into the open before them and collapsed on top of Loren's prone body. It appeared she was who they'd wanted all along. Clara took a steadying breath and checked to see how many bullets she had left in her gun. She could see Walker posted up eight yards from her, behind his own tree. The darkness had gotten so she could only make out the shape of him in the gloom cast by the leaves and branches above them.
The riders she could see clearly in the moonlight of the open sky. One of them had dismounted and taken hold of Mae, dragging her sharply away from Loren as she kicked and protested. As Clara watched, he bound her wrists behind her back and then turned to face the trees where she and Walker hid.
This man was broad-shouldered and had neglected to wear the telltale face covering of a criminal. He had a black mustache over his lips, and it lifted as he snarled and opened his mouth to speak.
"WE'VE GOT YOUR LITTLE FRIEND," he called. "IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOURSELVES NOW, WE'LL LIGHT OUT OF HERE AND HAVE SOME FUN OF OUR OWN. IF YOU COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP, WE'LL KILL HER QUICK AND EASY, AND YOU CAN GO THAT WAY TOO. NOBODY'S GETTING' OUT OF THIS ALIVE BUT IT'S UP TO YOU HOW MUCH SUFFERIN' GOES ON."
The man had seemed to disregard the demands of the redhead in the heat of battle. Clara could see that he was angry and done with the whole lot of them. He no longer wanted to take anyone captive but rid the Earth of them all and get gone. She glanced at Walker who was chewing his cheek in thought and then peered around her tree.
The one rider remaining on his horse was more to her side of the tree line, maybe fifteen yards apart from where the other held Mae, but he was looking across the way, over the top of his partner and off where Walker hid. Willing herself to move quickly and quietly, she darted into the open, fired off a shot, and ducked back behind the tree. She listened hard for any kind of noise and smiled when it came. A body falling from a high place, like atop a horse. From behind his own tree, she caught Walker throwing her an impressed smile, the whites of his teeth the only things she could make it in the dark now.
One to go, but he would be the most dangerous. He was now hugging Mae so tightly to his body that taking a shot would be nearly impossible and at great risk to her friend's life as well as to the would-be kidnapper. Clara figured there was only so much time before the man gave up on it all, shot her and took off for his horse to try and escape with his life.
"Do you trust me?"
Walker's voice was so close to her, nearly in her own ear, that she jumped and almost shot him. He'd slunk over towards her in the darkness, unseen by anyone. He was now pressed against her tree with her, his arm against hers so that she could feel the sweat there. She steadied herself and then gave him a sharp elbow for scaring her.
"Alright, I deserved that," he muttered. "I can make the shot."
She was stunned by his sheer confidence. No one could make that shot. It was impossible and there was too much at risk. An image of Loren's body came to her, and she felt suddenly dizzy. There had been too much action to dwell on whether her friend was dead or alive before then, but now, in the quiet lull, she almost lost it as tears sprung to her eyes and her hands began to shake.
"I can't let you do that," she told him in an unsteady voice. "It's too dangerous."
She couldn't risk losing Mae too. There had to be another way.
As if he could read her mind, Walker said, "There's no other way."
"It's only a matter of time before he takes off with her or he just shoots her and tries to run. I can make the shot," he repeated.
"That's my friend over there. You miss and you might just take her life," Clara growled.
"If I miss and take her life, it'll be better than what he plans to do with her if he gets away," Walker retorted, and Clara knew that he was right. She could see in the man's eyes that he meant to harm no matter how or in what way. She knew that look.
"I won't miss, Clara," he assured her but with all the risks she'd taken over the last several months, this was one she could not force herself to. She had enough on her conscience, and she was still certain there was bound to be another way to save Mae.
He was checking his gun and breathing evenly, his eyes peering around the tree at the man with clear intent. He was getting ready to go, whether she agreed or not.
"Walker..."
She could not let him pull the trigger. She opened her mouth, reaching deep inside for the voice that would stop him in his tracks but as she did her mind went suddenly blank. The words would not come, and the only thing that escaped her lips was a strangled groan. It was little more than a second, but it was all the hesitation that Walker needed to execute the shot. As the gun went off, Clara contemplated what had happened, unable to watch where the bullet landed. It had happened before, this hitch in her ability, and she hadn't understood it then either.
She hadn't realized that she'd closed her eyes until she felt Walker's hand on her shoulder, and he said, "You can look now."
When she opened her eyes, the broad-shouldered man was dead, and Mae was kneeling beside Loren again. Clara could see that he was moving, and she felt a tight restriction that had seized her heart relax ever so slightly. Walker was still standing beside her, slowing dropping his gun back into its holster. He turned to her with a big smile on his face.
Without thinking, Clara swung her fist and punched him right in the mouth. Shock registered on his face as he fell backwards with the force that had caught him unaware. Clara didn't wait for him to get up but made quick steps towards her two friends on the ground ahead of her in the moonlight.
Loren was sitting up, aided by Mae's gentle hands and she could see that his shirt was soaked with blood from his right arm, which hung limply against his body. His eyes were dazed, and his head drooped every so often. Mae, although relieved, still looked awfully concerned. She went to work tearing at his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the bullet wound while Loren winced and moaned.
"He gonna make it?" Clara asked when she knew the answer for herself.
"Won't be using that arm anytime soon but I think it missed anything vital. I'm more worried about his head from the fall," Mae replied in an anxious voice. "We need to get him home where I can look at him properly. What happened to you?"
Walker had come up behind them and his nose and bottom lip were bleeding where Clara had hit him. He wiped at it with the back of his hand and glared at Clara.
"Why don't you ask your friend here," he muttered. Mae gave Clara a wide-eyed look, but she was already getting to her feet. Something was moving back where they'd first met their attackers and she whistled for her horse, swung herself up as the animal ran to her, and laid out for that spot.
The redheaded man was still alive. Loren's shot had caught him in the side, and he still lay where he fell but was beginning to try and get to his feet. His movements became more rushed as he heard Clara coming, but she could see that his gun lay too far for him to get to it.
"Stay where you are," she ordered pulling her pistol out again and aiming for the man's head. On the ground near his feet, a white cotton plug was stuck in the mud. She knew that he could hear her just fine and he knew it too. He did as he was told and slumped back against the ground. His face had lost all color, making his hair seem even the brighter for it.
"Todd Pryor sent you, didn't he?" She thought about the little purple flower and knew the answer before the man even gave her a feeble nod.
"He wants the girl; says she owes him something. He didn't care about the rest of you," the man admitted. Clara nearly laughed. The man hadn't understood just who he was supposed to be kidnapping. She realized that they would've taken Mae in her place without seeing their mistake until it was too late. Todd would've killed the lot of them. Or rather, had someone else do it for him.
"He cares only for himself," she snarled. "What's the girl's name? The one he wants?"
Again, she knew the answer before the man gave it to her.
"Clara Thompson," he told her.
Clara picked her foot up and placed it firmly on the bloodied part of his shirt, leaning on it. The man cried out and gasped but didn't dare try to move. Her gun was only a foot from his face now. This man had tried to kill her and her friends. She wanted nothing more than to repay him for such crimes but there was still use in him yet. Besides, she wasn't quite sure yet if she could kill an unarmed man, no matter how much he might deserve it. She was starting to think that maybe she could.
"You should've paid better attention to your instructions," she told him. "I'm Clara Thompson and you can tell Todd Pryor that if I ever see his face again, I'll kill him myself. You hear me?"
The redhead nodded urgently, and Clara took her foot off of him. She considered using her ability to make sure he delivered the message, but she felt a little hesitant to try it again so soon after having struggled to put Walker under with it. Instead, she just hoped that the man was frightened enough to do as he was told. She turned away to rejoin her friends and check again on Loren and caught Walker on his horse not five yards behind her, watching.
She ducked her head and holstered her weapon, mounting her own horse and sitting there for a moment, not looking at him. Then, she led her horse up next to him and stopped.
"How much of that did you hear?" she asked evenly.
"I caught the death threat," he replied, and his face was unreadable.
She could only imagine the terrible thoughts about her that he must have been having and it made her heart throb painfully.
"You must think I'm crazy, don't you?" She held her breath as the question sat between them.
Walker studied her face for a moment, long enough for Clara to convince herself he really did think she was crazy, and then he smiled softly. Clara felt hope rise in her chest at the sight of it.
"I think you've got a heck of a right hook," he said finally, chuckling and wiping at his nose again. "But crazy? No, I don't think you're crazy."
Clara could have laughed with the sudden relief that filled her. She didn't want to consider why she felt so relieved to be seen in a better light by this man she hardly knew, but she didn't have time to even address it before he spoke again.
"I think you're scared though," he told her and then added in a suspicious voice, "Who's Todd Pryor?"