Pale Horse, Robert L. Ross [beach read book .TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert L. Ross
Book online «Pale Horse, Robert L. Ross [beach read book .TXT] 📗». Author Robert L. Ross
if we encounter these thieving bandits along the way, how much time and effort do you want to put into dealing with them”? Pale Horse, still staring straight ahead, said as cold as the heart that was now beating within him,
“Kill 'em all.” Colt nodded his head with approval and continued his ride. Not far into their journey, as the sun parched and desolate terrain began to slowly rise before them, Pale Horse noticed a slight movement just to the right of them.
“Do you see what I see”?, he asked.“Yeah, I've got my eye on it”, his partner replied, as he reached down and dislodged his Winchester rifle and had it at the ready. At the very same time, Pale Horse slid his long rifle out of the leather fringed sheath and laid it across his saddle, never once taking his eye off of the impending trouble that lie in the rock driven shadows just ahead of them. As they began slowing their pace, anticipating a confrontation, 3 bandits, about 25 yards in front of them, stepped out in their path with six-guns strapped, and sombreros slightly hiding their faces. Pale Horse reached down slowly and tugged at the Colt .45 he had tucked in the front of his buckskins to quicken the draw that he now knew was inevitable and just moments away.
“We'll be taking your horses, senor's” said the man in the middle, with a silver-coated tooth that seemed to glint as he raised his head to be seen.
“I hate to differ with you amigo, but you're sadly mistaken and sure to be foul sustenance for the very creatures that will no doubt be picking at your sorry bones if you choose to pursue this matter any further”, replied Pale Horse in the articulate and demeaning tongue that was such a delight to the friend who rode trusted beside him. Without turning his head, nor removing his glare at the scum that stood before him, Colt laughed at the words of his friend, and said,
“That was pretty good, Horse, the damned fool has no idea that you just insulted him and threatened him at the same time”!
“I'll ask you again, mister, and then we'll just take 'em from you”, said the bandit, as the other two steadied their hands on their pistols. With no doubt of the next move from the horse thieves persistence, the bounty hunters swiftly brandished their deadly steel, and just as sudden, left generous bleeding fodder for the buzzards and coyote to thank them for as they continued on with their quest. With the diligence required, neither of them took their eyes off the horizon, knowing the deeper they rode into the canyon, the harder it would be to see the outlaws that may lay in wait for the gunslingers as they approached. Without warning, and as expected, a gunshot rang out, barely missing Spirit as the two of them instantly jumped from their horses, and took cover in the many crevasses that surround them.
“Did you see where that came from,” asked Colt, as he drew his revolver and looked cautiously about. “No, I didn't see it,”, he answered, as he did the same. “I'm gonna draw another shot, Keep your eyes peeled”, Colt told him, as he took his hat and placed it on the end of his rifle.
“Ready”?
“Yeah,”, he said, as he scanned the jagged cliffs and behemoth rocks around them. He slowly raised his hat into the air, and just as quick, another shot was fired in their direction, ricocheting just yards behind them.
“I got him”, said Pale Horse, as he replaced his .45 into its holster and steadied his long rifle between the crag of boulders that were his sanctuary. The stillness was mortally shattered, as well as the breastbone of the one whose heart had just been silenced by the 50 caliber slug that tore through it. Though it seemed redundant to compliment one another on the perfection and skill they each displayed with their weapons of choice, Colt said to his friend in a hushed tone,
“Nice shot”.“You think that's the last of them”?.
“I doubt it”, returned Pale Horse, “But I have no intention of staying here in these rocks in order to find out.” With that, both of them eased slowly from their stone shelters and whistled for their horses who were just yards away.
The weathered cliffs and ancient boulders towered majestically around them, and although there were surely more bandits in the vicinity, no more shots were fired as the two of them made their way deeper into the hollowed canyon. Noticing a shallow stream that flowed between the quarry of ragged stone and scattered briar ahead of them, ever cautious, the two men rode toward it to water their horses and give them a temporary rest before continuing on. As their horses were being taken care of, the two men drank from their canteens while surveying their surroundings.
“Hey Colt”, said Pale Horse in a sobering tone, as he quickly replaced the cap on his canteen. He answered his companion in a low voice, sensing the urgency in his words,
“What is it”? Just yards ahead of them, was a well worn path that lay partially cloaked between jutting rocks and a cliff overhang, disguising the probable entrance to the very hideout they were seeking. Both of them quickly mounted their horses and quietly made their way through the opening. 20 feet or so in, the narrow trail opened up to a large gorge. There, at the rear of the canyon, masked by the shadows from the enormous stone walls, was a dilapidated wooden structure that was no doubt the hideout and haven for the very men they were looking for. Pulling back on their reins, they backed up discreetly, backing into the shadows and just out of eyesight of anyone that may be watching.
Both of the men instinctively withdrew their guns and filled the empty chambers used earlier in the day. As Pale Horse loaded another shell to top off his rifle, Colt said in haste,
“I say we ride in hard and kill everyone in sight”, not thinking that the girls might be inside. Pale Horse, knowing of the impetuous degree that was the true definition of his friend, reminded him of that very fact.
“Yes, you're right”, he replied while shaking his head,“Guess I wasn't thinking too clearly”. Open to whatever suggestion his friend had, he listened as Pale Horse thought over their situation and began to elaborate.
“My thinking is, we ride in like a couple of strangers lost, see what kind of numbers we're dealing with, and see if the girls are here, if possible.”“If they are here, then we go with your plan, making sure we take out the one's closest to the girls first, and if not, we need to make sure we leave one of them alive for questioning.” “Sounds good to me”, replied Colt. It was customary to wound the first one encountered when they needed someone for answers, and it was a rule that went unspoken between them. The pair casually strolled towards the hideout, carrying on a ficticious and lighthearted conversation and laughing between them. As they approached, Colt boisterously shouted out to announce their arrival.
“Hello in there, is anybody home”? Both were anxious and ready for the battle that could begin at any moment. Within seconds, a portly fellow, every bit of 6ft. tall, donned neatly in a long black duster, walked out of the makeshift fortress and sternly leveled his 12gauge shotgun at them.
“How can I help you gents”?, he asked.
“Seems my guide here has got the two of us lost, and we can't find our way out of here to save our hides,” he answered.
“We sure could use someone to point us back in the general direction of Denver, or the nearest saloon, whichever comes first”. The man, still wary, but believing the stranger's story, pointed behind them and replied,
“If' you go back out that opening in the rock, and hang a left, and just keep riding', Denver ain't but 4 hours or so straight ahead of ya.” Pale Horse said nothing, but kept a lookout around them for the unexpected.“4 hours, you say”? he said back to the man.
“Yep, about 4 hours and she'll be standing tall before ya”, the bandit reiterated. Trying to get closer to the hideout without raising the man's suspicion, Colt nudged Bisquit forward and continued,
“Could I give you some of my silver for any whiskey you might have around here, seeing that I'm a mite thirsty and my destination is still quite a ways from me, I'll pay you handsomely” The outlaw, destitute, and out of greed and ignorance, quickly answered back,
“Surely, but it'll cost you plenty, being that we're quite a ways from town ourselves and don't have a whole lot to spare.”
“That'll be fine, friend, Thank you” Colt said back to him, as he and Pale Horse stepped off their mounts and walked inside behind him. As they entered the shack, there were two more vermin sitting at the table, swilling rotgut and playing cards, unaware of the fate that was just moments away for the both of them. The fat fellow in the black duster reached up into the cupboard for a bottle of whiskey for the two stranger's, and then turned, only to be greeted with Colt's .45, stuck sharply just underneath his chin. Pale Horse, upon seeing the move his friend had just made, pulled his pistols and pointed them at the two still sitting, themselves now becoming aware of the situation unfolding. Hearing the hammer cock back on Colt's .45, the two men quickly looked up to see a gun pointed at them. Surprised, each of them sat motionless, as Colt went on to explain the reason for their visit.
“We're looking for Shane Walters, and we know you men ride with him, so, before you spend another wasted minute trying to convince us of otherwise, I'd suggest you fess up and tell us where he, and the two ladies you kidnapped are.” One of the men at the table looked up at Pale Horse and sarcastically asked,
“I'm guessing that sassy squaw belongs to you, and that pretty little blonde thing belongs to your friend, huh?” Upon hearing his sister referred to as “squaw”, Pale Horse, with his infamous and contemptuous disposition, slowly cracked the devil's smile as he methodically emptied all 6 chambers into the man, then, bending over him, proceeded to take his scalp, as the remaining two outlaws watched in horror at something they had heard tale of, but had never seen first hand.
As he was tucking the bloody trophy into his belt, he looked at the man still sitting at the table and asked,
“Is there anything he would like to add in reference to my sister”.
“No sir” he quickly answered, then began spilling his guts,
“Shane and the rest of the boys got on a train yesterday and took your sister and the other woman to Oklahoma City to his sisters house.”
“He's already received the money by now, why haven't the ladies been released, like he said they would be”, asked Colt. The outlaw, clueless to the reasoning behind Shane Walters motives stated,
“Martin told the rest of us Shane was keeping them as some sort of insurance policy for things to come, that's all we know.”
“Where's this house and Walter's sister that you speak of,”asked Pale Horse.
“Neither of us have ever been there, all we know is her name is Alisha Foxx, and she runs the whorehouse there in town.”
“How many men does Walters have with him”?, he asked.
“Kill 'em all.” Colt nodded his head with approval and continued his ride. Not far into their journey, as the sun parched and desolate terrain began to slowly rise before them, Pale Horse noticed a slight movement just to the right of them.
“Do you see what I see”?, he asked.“Yeah, I've got my eye on it”, his partner replied, as he reached down and dislodged his Winchester rifle and had it at the ready. At the very same time, Pale Horse slid his long rifle out of the leather fringed sheath and laid it across his saddle, never once taking his eye off of the impending trouble that lie in the rock driven shadows just ahead of them. As they began slowing their pace, anticipating a confrontation, 3 bandits, about 25 yards in front of them, stepped out in their path with six-guns strapped, and sombreros slightly hiding their faces. Pale Horse reached down slowly and tugged at the Colt .45 he had tucked in the front of his buckskins to quicken the draw that he now knew was inevitable and just moments away.
“We'll be taking your horses, senor's” said the man in the middle, with a silver-coated tooth that seemed to glint as he raised his head to be seen.
“I hate to differ with you amigo, but you're sadly mistaken and sure to be foul sustenance for the very creatures that will no doubt be picking at your sorry bones if you choose to pursue this matter any further”, replied Pale Horse in the articulate and demeaning tongue that was such a delight to the friend who rode trusted beside him. Without turning his head, nor removing his glare at the scum that stood before him, Colt laughed at the words of his friend, and said,
“That was pretty good, Horse, the damned fool has no idea that you just insulted him and threatened him at the same time”!
“I'll ask you again, mister, and then we'll just take 'em from you”, said the bandit, as the other two steadied their hands on their pistols. With no doubt of the next move from the horse thieves persistence, the bounty hunters swiftly brandished their deadly steel, and just as sudden, left generous bleeding fodder for the buzzards and coyote to thank them for as they continued on with their quest. With the diligence required, neither of them took their eyes off the horizon, knowing the deeper they rode into the canyon, the harder it would be to see the outlaws that may lay in wait for the gunslingers as they approached. Without warning, and as expected, a gunshot rang out, barely missing Spirit as the two of them instantly jumped from their horses, and took cover in the many crevasses that surround them.
“Did you see where that came from,” asked Colt, as he drew his revolver and looked cautiously about. “No, I didn't see it,”, he answered, as he did the same. “I'm gonna draw another shot, Keep your eyes peeled”, Colt told him, as he took his hat and placed it on the end of his rifle.
“Ready”?
“Yeah,”, he said, as he scanned the jagged cliffs and behemoth rocks around them. He slowly raised his hat into the air, and just as quick, another shot was fired in their direction, ricocheting just yards behind them.
“I got him”, said Pale Horse, as he replaced his .45 into its holster and steadied his long rifle between the crag of boulders that were his sanctuary. The stillness was mortally shattered, as well as the breastbone of the one whose heart had just been silenced by the 50 caliber slug that tore through it. Though it seemed redundant to compliment one another on the perfection and skill they each displayed with their weapons of choice, Colt said to his friend in a hushed tone,
“Nice shot”.“You think that's the last of them”?.
“I doubt it”, returned Pale Horse, “But I have no intention of staying here in these rocks in order to find out.” With that, both of them eased slowly from their stone shelters and whistled for their horses who were just yards away.
The weathered cliffs and ancient boulders towered majestically around them, and although there were surely more bandits in the vicinity, no more shots were fired as the two of them made their way deeper into the hollowed canyon. Noticing a shallow stream that flowed between the quarry of ragged stone and scattered briar ahead of them, ever cautious, the two men rode toward it to water their horses and give them a temporary rest before continuing on. As their horses were being taken care of, the two men drank from their canteens while surveying their surroundings.
“Hey Colt”, said Pale Horse in a sobering tone, as he quickly replaced the cap on his canteen. He answered his companion in a low voice, sensing the urgency in his words,
“What is it”? Just yards ahead of them, was a well worn path that lay partially cloaked between jutting rocks and a cliff overhang, disguising the probable entrance to the very hideout they were seeking. Both of them quickly mounted their horses and quietly made their way through the opening. 20 feet or so in, the narrow trail opened up to a large gorge. There, at the rear of the canyon, masked by the shadows from the enormous stone walls, was a dilapidated wooden structure that was no doubt the hideout and haven for the very men they were looking for. Pulling back on their reins, they backed up discreetly, backing into the shadows and just out of eyesight of anyone that may be watching.
Both of the men instinctively withdrew their guns and filled the empty chambers used earlier in the day. As Pale Horse loaded another shell to top off his rifle, Colt said in haste,
“I say we ride in hard and kill everyone in sight”, not thinking that the girls might be inside. Pale Horse, knowing of the impetuous degree that was the true definition of his friend, reminded him of that very fact.
“Yes, you're right”, he replied while shaking his head,“Guess I wasn't thinking too clearly”. Open to whatever suggestion his friend had, he listened as Pale Horse thought over their situation and began to elaborate.
“My thinking is, we ride in like a couple of strangers lost, see what kind of numbers we're dealing with, and see if the girls are here, if possible.”“If they are here, then we go with your plan, making sure we take out the one's closest to the girls first, and if not, we need to make sure we leave one of them alive for questioning.” “Sounds good to me”, replied Colt. It was customary to wound the first one encountered when they needed someone for answers, and it was a rule that went unspoken between them. The pair casually strolled towards the hideout, carrying on a ficticious and lighthearted conversation and laughing between them. As they approached, Colt boisterously shouted out to announce their arrival.
“Hello in there, is anybody home”? Both were anxious and ready for the battle that could begin at any moment. Within seconds, a portly fellow, every bit of 6ft. tall, donned neatly in a long black duster, walked out of the makeshift fortress and sternly leveled his 12gauge shotgun at them.
“How can I help you gents”?, he asked.
“Seems my guide here has got the two of us lost, and we can't find our way out of here to save our hides,” he answered.
“We sure could use someone to point us back in the general direction of Denver, or the nearest saloon, whichever comes first”. The man, still wary, but believing the stranger's story, pointed behind them and replied,
“If' you go back out that opening in the rock, and hang a left, and just keep riding', Denver ain't but 4 hours or so straight ahead of ya.” Pale Horse said nothing, but kept a lookout around them for the unexpected.“4 hours, you say”? he said back to the man.
“Yep, about 4 hours and she'll be standing tall before ya”, the bandit reiterated. Trying to get closer to the hideout without raising the man's suspicion, Colt nudged Bisquit forward and continued,
“Could I give you some of my silver for any whiskey you might have around here, seeing that I'm a mite thirsty and my destination is still quite a ways from me, I'll pay you handsomely” The outlaw, destitute, and out of greed and ignorance, quickly answered back,
“Surely, but it'll cost you plenty, being that we're quite a ways from town ourselves and don't have a whole lot to spare.”
“That'll be fine, friend, Thank you” Colt said back to him, as he and Pale Horse stepped off their mounts and walked inside behind him. As they entered the shack, there were two more vermin sitting at the table, swilling rotgut and playing cards, unaware of the fate that was just moments away for the both of them. The fat fellow in the black duster reached up into the cupboard for a bottle of whiskey for the two stranger's, and then turned, only to be greeted with Colt's .45, stuck sharply just underneath his chin. Pale Horse, upon seeing the move his friend had just made, pulled his pistols and pointed them at the two still sitting, themselves now becoming aware of the situation unfolding. Hearing the hammer cock back on Colt's .45, the two men quickly looked up to see a gun pointed at them. Surprised, each of them sat motionless, as Colt went on to explain the reason for their visit.
“We're looking for Shane Walters, and we know you men ride with him, so, before you spend another wasted minute trying to convince us of otherwise, I'd suggest you fess up and tell us where he, and the two ladies you kidnapped are.” One of the men at the table looked up at Pale Horse and sarcastically asked,
“I'm guessing that sassy squaw belongs to you, and that pretty little blonde thing belongs to your friend, huh?” Upon hearing his sister referred to as “squaw”, Pale Horse, with his infamous and contemptuous disposition, slowly cracked the devil's smile as he methodically emptied all 6 chambers into the man, then, bending over him, proceeded to take his scalp, as the remaining two outlaws watched in horror at something they had heard tale of, but had never seen first hand.
As he was tucking the bloody trophy into his belt, he looked at the man still sitting at the table and asked,
“Is there anything he would like to add in reference to my sister”.
“No sir” he quickly answered, then began spilling his guts,
“Shane and the rest of the boys got on a train yesterday and took your sister and the other woman to Oklahoma City to his sisters house.”
“He's already received the money by now, why haven't the ladies been released, like he said they would be”, asked Colt. The outlaw, clueless to the reasoning behind Shane Walters motives stated,
“Martin told the rest of us Shane was keeping them as some sort of insurance policy for things to come, that's all we know.”
“Where's this house and Walter's sister that you speak of,”asked Pale Horse.
“Neither of us have ever been there, all we know is her name is Alisha Foxx, and she runs the whorehouse there in town.”
“How many men does Walters have with him”?, he asked.
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