The Man and The Outlaw

Chapter Twenty Four

Todd was nearly licking his lips watching Hector make his way up the steep slope. Clara felt hopeless and she was trembling with frustration and rage. It wasn't right. Todd didn't get to win. That wasn't justice. Todd was up there right now, thinking he'd won, relishing the fact that he was going to be the hero to bring in Valdez alive, feeling no remorse for the lives he'd ruined or the lies he'd told. He was practically drooling with the prospect of the reward money and the gloating he would be able to do once he was through. He was...
Clara smiled and opened her mouth. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. Todd had all but forgotten about her. It was all the opportunity that she needed.
"Put that gun down, Todd," she commanded in a voice that pierced through consciousness and sapped free will.
Todd's eyes went wide with surprise as he realized his mistake and his face twitched as he tried to resist falling under the trance. His arms jerked as his mind and Clara's imposed order went to war with one another. The gun in his hand went down and then jerked back up. It swung wildly left and right. Then, like all guns must when the trigger is pulled, accidentally or otherwise, it went off.
Everybody jumped and that was it for Todd's resistance. His face slackened and the gun fell from his hand. Clara bolted up the ravine past Hector and grabbed Todd by the front of his vest.
"Clara..."
"I want to know!" she screamed into Todd's face, ignoring Hector. "I want to know what happened the day you killed my father. I want to know what you did and you're going to tell me."
Todd broke into the story in a droning, disaffected voice. His eyes stared off into nothing and Clara relaxed her grip on his shirt to listen.
"I was in Richmond on business, and I stopped in at Cooper's Tavern for a drink after I was done. I saw your father going into the bank. It was perfect timing. Too perfect to pass up. I hid in the alley next to the bank and waited for him to come out.
"About five minutes later, Hector Valdez rode up on that yellow horse of his and as he went into the bank as your father was coming out. A few shots rang out from inside and I just joined the fray. I fired one shot, just as people came pouring out of the bank in a panic and no one noticed or cared that the bullet that killed your father didn't come from Valdez's gun. It was too easy."
When he finished his robotic retelling, Todd stood vacantly silent, like a machine put on standby. Clara wanted to hit him or shoot him or both.
She hadn't realized when she'd begun to cry again, and she wiped at her tears self-consciously. She hated the man before her who had taken her father away without a second thought. She hated him more for that than anything he'd ever done to her before. The lives of others meant very little to him and Clara felt a strong urge to take his from him in that moment despite the revelation from earlier that she was no killer. She wanted to teach him a lesson that he had no choice to forget.
In the end, she held to the truth that she was no cold-blooded killer, and she kept her gun in its holster. She opened her mouth to give him an order to go back to Richmond and turn himself in, but Hector's voice interrupted her.
"Clara..."
She turned around to look at him, but he was no longer there. Then, she heard him cough and she adjusted her gaze downward. He was lying on the ground near the incline of the ravine where he'd been standing when the gun went off. He was holding his side and blood was seeping through his fingers. There was a large, red stain soaking his shirt beneath his hands and his face had gone as white as a sheet.
Clara ran to him, her heart pounding again as she fell to her knees beside him. She lifted his hands to assess the damage that Todd's bullet had caused, but without the pressure the flow of his blood quickened alarmingly, and the stain grew larger. Clara placed his hand back down and covered it with her own, holding firmly.
"Walker, stay with me, okay?" She didn't bother to correct herself with his name. She felt sick and she was crying again. She felt the crying would never stop.
"It doesn't...doesn't really hurt," he told her in a slurred, disjointed voice. That alarmed her.
"There's a doctor in Riverport, a good doctor. I'm going to take you there, you hear me? You just hang on."
Hector gave her a weak nod.
Clara whistled for her horse, and it ran to her, appearing from further down the ravine. She found some rope in her pack and some gauze in the med kit that she carried with her. She put the gauze against Hector's side, adding her jacket for good measure and tied the ropes tightly around him. She hoped it would be enough to keep him from bleeding out on the ride to Riverport. They weren't far, maybe three miles.
She tried to get Hector to her feet then, but he could only offer meager help and he was much larger than her. She shouted for Todd.
"Get over here and help me," she directed him in a desperate voice. Todd, still under the trance, obliged amicably.
With Todd's help, she was able to get Hector up and on the horse, though he moaned and coughed with each exertion of force. Clara climbed up in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist. He held on but his head lolled against her back in an unsettling way. Clara looked down at Todd.
"You'll forget you ever saw Hector Valdez, Todd. You go straight to Richmond, and you confess to the murder of my father. Tell them what you told me, exactly as you told me. For once in your life, you get to do the right thing. Enjoy it," she ordered.
Then, she kicked her horse into motion and prayed she wouldn't be too late.