Ike turned to Russell. “I said get up!” he snarled.
But the gangly farmer was paralyzed with fear. He worked his loose mouth but only gibberish came out. “I can't! I just can't, Ike! Herb Fowler, he was standin' right beside me! We'll all be killed!”
Without another word Ike leveled his Winchester at the farmer's head and pulled the trigger. Russell was instantly dead, with most of his skull shot away, but he flopped and quivered for several seconds, and Ike watched without a flicker of emotion. At last he turned on Ross Kale.
“How about you, kid? You want to stay behind this boulder with Sam?”
The boy swallowed hard, his eyes popping. “Ike, for God's sake!”
“You want to go to the top of the hill with the rest of us?”
“Yes! Yes, anything you say!”
“Then get on your feet and act like a man!”
The numbness in Ike's leg was beginning to fade, and the pain put a new sharp edge to his anger. He grabbed the boy, jerked him to his feet, and shoved him into the open. “Up there where Gabe Tanis is! And don't stop.”
Ross Kale didn't stop. Ahead of Brunner, with Ike's Winchester at his back, the kid clawed blindly up the rocky grade to the shelf. Gabe Tanis was waiting near the ledge to pull them up.
“Where's Sam Russell?”
“Dead,” Ike said bluntly, “along with Herb Fowler.”
If Gabe had heard the shot from Ike's rifle, he did not mention it. “I think somebody got the Reunion marshal,” he said. “I haven't heard anything from the carbine since you reached the boulder.”
“I guess it's time we headed for the top, then. I've got some business to finish with Dunc Lester.” He glanced behind him and saw that the sun was sinking behind the western hills. “We'll have to finish it before sundown. I don't want him to get away in the dark.”
On the other side of the hill a revolver sounded three times, punctuated at the end by a shotgun blast. Ike jerked his head at Ross Kale. “You first, kid.”
The boy's face was pale, his mouth a thin white line, but he did not hesitate. He slipped around the end of the shelf and started toward the crest of the hill when a sudden carbine blast knocked him off his feet. He came falling down in a shower of loose rocks, blood spurting from his left shoulder.
“I thought you said that marshal was dead!” Ike snarled.
Gabe Tanis shrugged, wiping his tobacco-stained mouth. “I said I thought he was shot. A man can be shot and still pull the trigger on a carbine.”
They retreated again behind their protective roof of stone, and Ross Kale began to whimper when he saw the stream of blood flowing down his arm. “Shut up!” Ike said. “Or maybe you want me to shut you up for good!”
The boy ground his teeth and was suddenly silent. Gabe Tanis gazed thoughtfully at Ike, then at the boy, and finally went down on one knee and fashioned a clumsy bandage about Kale's shoulder. “Maybe,” Gabe said quietly, “it would be better if we did wait till dark.” Ike looked at the sun again and judged that darkness was less than an hour away. That's what they were fighting for, the two men up there on the hilltop. They were waiting for darkness and hoping that they could slip away in the night.
There were a lot of things to consider before charging that rocky ridge again. One man had already lost his guts, and it stood to reason that there would be others. Still, the odds were heavily in favor of Ike and the gang, and he did not intend to leave this job unfinished. Maybe, he thought, the marshal was hurt bad; maybe he would die. It was pleasant to think about, but nothing to be relied on.
Now Ike began to get a new idea. Suddenly he moved to the edge of the shelf and shouted:
“You up there on top! The marshal from Reunion! Can you hear me?”
Gabe Tanis blinked in surprise, but Ike gazed eagerly toward the sandstone cap and waited. At last a voice came down to them.
“I hear you, Brunner.”
It was a weak voice, and this pleased Ike. He called, “We know you're shot, Marshal. I don't know how bad off you are, but you don't sound so good to me. I'd guess you might be needin' a doctor.”
No answer came from the hilltop.
“I've got a proposition for you, Marshal,” Ike called again. “You want to hear it?”
There was a short silence. Then, “All right. I'll listen.”
Ike grinned. He knew that they were playing for time, but this didn't worry him now. “Here's my proposition, Marshal. You're free to come down any time you feel like it. I'll give my men orders not to fire.”
“Thanks just the same, but I think I'd be safer where I am.”
“With a bullet hole in you? You need a doctor, Marshal. You come down by yourself and I'll have two of my boys help you get back to Reunion. Nobody but us will ever know.”
There was a long pause. All the hills seemed to listen. Then, “I'm afraid I can't take your word, Brunner. I'd be walking into a trap and you know it.”
Ike smiled, feeling himself on firmer ground. “I've got nothin' against you, Marshal. You're just another law dog tryin' to do a job, as far as I'm concerned. But you don't have a chance in the world of breaking up my gang, so why be a fool and get yourself killed for nothin'?”
“Like you said, Brunner, I'm trying to do a job.” Ike's face was a mask, showing nothing. His voice was almost amiable. “Get this through your head, Marshaclass="underline" I don't care a damn about you, but I aim to settle a debt with Dunc Lester. If you want to stand in my way, you've got nobody to blame but yourself.”
“That's right, Ike. Nobody but myself.” Ike shifted his weight again, leaning heavily against the stone. The pain in his thigh spread slowly upward toward the hip. He had one more idea to try, and if that didn't work... Well, the sun was getting low.
“Marshal,” he called again, “I want you to think about your wife and kids. You've got a family, haven't you? Think about them, Marshal, for just five minutes. And if you still insist on getting yourself killed...”
He let the words hang significantly. Gabe Tanis said, “How do you know he's got a family?”
“He didn't deny it, did he? He's got a family, all right, and he'll do some thinkin'.”
“But will he come down?”
Ike eased himself to the ground, sitting with his wounded leg extended. “I don't know,” he said thoughtfully. “If he's smart he'll come down.”
“And if he does?”
Ike grinned and patted his Winchester. The minutes dragged by. No sound came from the hilltop, and Ike Brunner's hopes began to grow. This marshal was no ordinary low-country politician deputy; he had guts and plenty of hill sense, and he was dangerous. But every man had his weakness, and Ike had guessed that the marshal's weakness was his family. “No sign of him yet,” Gabe Tanis said. Ike gazed at the long hill shadows. “Give him a little more time.”
So they sat in uneasy silence for several more minutes, and still no sound came down from above. Painfully Ike shoved himself to his feet, knowing that they could wait no longer. “All right, Marshal,” he called casually. “Your time is out. You come now or you don't come down at all.”