“Then we might as well head straight for that ranch, since that’s where folks are going to be in real danger.”
“On the contrary, I think we should get to San Trista as soon as we possibly can.”
Joseph looked at Nick’s face, but still could not figure out what was causing the excitement on it. “All right, I give up. Why should we go there just for one or two of that gang and a few locals?”
“Because those locals are the gang’s backup. If we can swing in there and take out at least those two that are waiting for them, the rest will be cut loose altogether. Remember that signal our friend on the Silver Gorge trail told us about?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d bet everything I’ve got that those two men waiting at San Trista won’t tell the others about that signal until it’s absolutely necessary. Hell, they might not even tell them about it when they get there. What’re a few whistles if you don’t know any better?”
Suddenly, Joseph’s eyes widened as a look of understanding flashed across his face. “This would be like cutting off a supply line.”
Nick nodded and leaned back again. “Exactly!”
“That’s actually pretty smart. It’s a good thing you’re here. I think I’m starting to lose my nerve.”
“Why do you think that?” Nick asked. “Because you didn’t leave a pile of bodies in that saloon?”
“No. Well…maybe not a pile of them.”
“But a few would have been nice?”
Joseph shook his head and looked away, but it was clear that Nick had hit close to the mark. “I guess those just weren’t the men I wanted to see.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. It sounds like we’ll be meeting up with them soon enough.”
With Joseph leading the way, the short ride to San Trista soon became a race between their two horses. Although he’d started out in the lead, Joseph eventually found Kazys nipping at his heels. The older horse had built up a head of steam and ran past Joseph so quickly that his horse shied away.
It took Nick a few miles to rein in Kazys and slow Joseph down as well. By the time the small settlement known as San Trista came into view, both animals were chomping at the bit to keep the race going. They weren’t the only anxious ones.
“What’s the matter?” Joseph asked as Nick slowed to a stop a fair distance from the shacks in front of them. “That looks like the place up ahead.”
“And it won’t be going anywhere,” Nick assured him. “Unlike the men who could bolt from there at a moment’s notice if they don’t like the way we’re riding up on them.”
“There’s only two or three buildings over there. You think there’s a way we can sneak up on them? Hell, they probably already saw us coming.”
“Which is why we shouldn’t look like we’re out to stampede over them. Think for a second.”
Although he wasn’t too happy about it, Joseph finally had to nod. “I guess I see your point.”
“Good.”
“So what are we going to do?”
Nick leaned forward in his saddle toward the small cluster of shacks. Squinting at the crooked buildings, he said, “I can only see a few horses there. Could be the men from Perro Negro, or it could be the ones waiting for stragglers.”
“I say we ride up like we’re looking for work, just like we did at those saloons.”
“Now you’re thinking. This time, though, let me do the talking.”
The town was made up of a run-down general store and a pair of shacks, which were probably home to whoever owned the store. The two men were only thirty or forty yards away from the store when someone came outside, looked in their direction and went back in.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” Nick said.
“Why? What happened?”
“I think he recognized us.”
Narrowing his eyes to angry slits, Joseph checked the guns under his belt and said, “Let’s get moving.”
Before Nick could say anything for or against the plan, Joseph was carrying it out. Nick kept alongside Joseph, watching for any hint of movement around the store.
By the time Nick and Joseph rode up to the storefront, its inhabitants were noisily pushing open its rattling doors. Boots stomped against the ground as men rushed outside.
When Joseph saw George among the men coming out to meet him, the color drained from his face and his voice dropped to a barely audible tone. “I’ll be damned,” he said.
George was with two other men and all three of them were armed. In fact, all three of them had their guns up before Joseph’s surprised statement was out of his mouth. However, it was Nick’s modified Schofield that sent the initial clap of thunder through the air.
The man to George’s left had a wiry frame and a quick gun hand. He was so quick that his trigger was halfway pulled when Nick’s round caught him in the upper chest. The impact of the bullet took the wiry gunman off his feet as his finger jerked around the trigger. His shot went straight into the ground.
The gunman standing to George’s right was barrel-chested and a bit longer in the tooth. He took his time in drawing and firing a shot. If Nick hadn’t already started swinging down from his saddle, he might very well have caught the incoming round. As it was, the bullet hissed over his head and barely caused Kazys to twitch an ear.
Even though George had drawn his gun, he had yet to pull the trigger. It seemed that the frightened young man wasn’t even thinking about firing when he caught the brunt of his former employer’s vicious stare.
“Where the hell are you going?” Joseph snarled as George backed away. He nearly stumbled over the planking in front of the general store in his haste to get back inside. The barrel-chested gunman took a quick glance, but he had a full plate already, since Nick was still intent on using his Schofield.
As Nick moved forward, he took in the scene as if he was admiring it from afar. His eyes calmly darted from one spot to another, watching for any additional threats while keeping track of the ones already in front of him. His arm remained extended and he stopped firing once he saw his target drop behind a stack of old crates piled up near the store.
“Joseph, watch out!” Nick shouted when he spotted Joseph headed straight for the store.
But Joseph did not seem to care that he was heading toward the other gunman. Joseph’s only concern was George inside.
Although he couldn’t see the barrel-chested gunman, Nick had no trouble figuring out the man’s intentions. As Joseph was about to pass the crates where the gunman was hiding, Nick shot his last two rounds through the dirty wooden boxes. Dust exploded from the splintering wood and Joseph stormed through it on his way to the door.
Nick kept his eyes on those crates as he went through the well-practiced motions of reloading his gun. Holding the pistol in his left hand, he plucked spare bullets from his gun belt using his right little finger and flipped them into his palm. He slid each round slid into the cylinder, transferred the pistol to his right hand and shut it with a snap of his wrist.
Before Nick could do anything else, the crates were knocked over as the barrel-chested gunman stormed toward him. He still was too busy reloading to take a shot. After snapping the cylinder shut, the stocky man balled up his fist and drove it into Nick’s midsection.
“I hear you’re the one that killed J. D.,” the gunman snarled as Nick doubled over and let out a pained grunt. “Fucking gravedigger shot him in the back. J. D. was my friend.”
Nick struggled to straighten up, but wasn’t even able to draw a breath. He was surprised to find that he still had his gun in his hand.
The bigger man seized him by the throat and pressed his gun barrel against the top of Nick’s head. As soon as the iron touched his skull, Nick’s instincts took over. He flattened his left hand and shot it straight up, catching the gunman’s wrist and forcing his pistol into the air. The gunman’s finger snagged against the trigger, sending a shot above their heads, as Nick fired a bullet of his own into the gunman’s foot.