Pale Horse, Robert L. Ross [beach read book .TXT] 📗

floor of the office daily, and always seemed to be waiting for him when he reported for work. As soon as the telegraph machine was through receiving, Heath began whistling a jaunty little tune, which was something he did quite often, only to be interrupted by the urgency in his bosses voice. “I need you to take this to Sheriff Holcomb as fast as you can, and if he isn't in his office, look down at the cafe, and if he isn't there, go to the saloon, whatever you do, don't stop looking until you find him!” Heath took the telegram from him and headed out to find the sheriff. Looking first in his office, and not finding him there, he casually walked about town as if there was no rush, and the directions given had gone through one ear and out the other. While he was walking about, one of the outlaws wanted was stepping onto his horse and rode right by him on his way out of town.
Heath finally caught up with the sheriff, leisurely having an afternoon beer at the saloon. It wasn't uncommon to find him there, though no-one would dare say he was a drunk, or ever in dereliction of his duty. Sheriff David Holcomb was a good man, and loved by the locals for his sense of fairness when dealing with the things that come with the badge he wore proudly.
“Sheriff David,” said Heath, as he stood behind him at the bar, not wanting to interrupt his conversation, but now remembering the urgency that proceeded the delivery of the message. “Yes sonny, How can I help you today?” asked the sheriff. Heath handed the telegram to him, and remembering to tell him as he started to leave, said, “Oh yeah sheriff, I think its important” “Thank you Heath” he said kindly as he tossed the boy two-bits. Setting his beer down, he looked over at his friend, Nathan Shane that was enjoying the lunch break with him and muttered, “Give me a minute to see what we have here.” Putting on his wire spectacles and holding the telegram towards the sunlight that shown mostly from the entrance of the saloon, he read the warning posted within the text with disbelief and amazement. After reading it, and the description given of one outlaw, he slowly turned around as not to draw any suspicion to himself, remembering having seen a man standing at the bar next to him just moments before with the grisly disfigured face that was described in the telegram. Not only did the description fit the man perfectly, but the other men sitting at the table with him were described in the message just as well. Two of the men that the sheriff described weren't with them. “Probably somewhere here in town though,” he thought warily to himself. He didn't know, or recognize any of them, and vaguely remembered they had come into town as a group just days before, leaving little doubt in his mind that these were the men that he, and the sheriff in Denver were looking for. He nonchalantly turned back around towards the bar and told his friend to leave as if nothing was afoot, and he would promptly follow him out. His friend obliged, downing the remainder of his beer, threw his four bits on the counter to pay for his and David's beers, nodded his appreciation at the barkeep, and walked out the door, with the sheriff just a moment behind. Upon reaching outside, he calmly filled Nathan in on the details and asked for any assistance he could give him. “Sure David, I'd be more than happy too.” The pair walked briskly down the street towards the sheriffs office, waiting till they got inside to discuss their strategy.
Deputy John Mack was there, and was quickly apprised of the impending danger. “Here's the situation we find ourselves in men,” the sheriff began as he pulled up a chair and sat down. John, always the gentleman, walked over to the far wall and dragging the one remaining chair in front of the sheriffs cluttered desk, offered it to the elder Nathan as he propped his butt on the edge of the desk, leaving Nathan with little else to do but sit in it. “We have 4 very dangerous men wanted down in the Lone Star State of Texas, for cold blooded murder and multiple counts of kidnapping and extortion right down the street in the saloon as we speak, and over at Alisha's Place, there are presumably two women who have been kidnapped and are being held hostage, probably in that rat hole of a room just above it, and no doubt being guarded by at least one, if not a couple of more men that ride with the outlaws.” Leaning back in the same old and rickety chair he'd been sitting in for the last 17 years, He reached deep into the drawer and pulled out a bottle to share with the men he was about to go into battle with, as he continued on with his thought. “My thinking is this, given the severity of the ordeal, I think we should take care of the one's in the saloon first, and afterward, we go and rescue the ladies.” Looking around the office at the lawmen, each nodded their approval back at him of the plan devised so far. “We have to be quick about it though, seeing that whomever is holding the women will no doubt hear all the shooting and carrying on, and could very well make a run for it, with us missing the only opportunity we have to save them before they up and high-tail it out of here.” Nathan, a strong willed man with the fortitude and wisdom acquired after 20 years as the Sheriff in Dodge City, spoke up and announced to his friends, “If by chance all of us don't walk away unscathed and still breathing, the remainder should go get Ricky Lee, the blacksmith, and George Wilton of the livery to help them rescue the women before their captors have a chance to escape with them.” The plan was laid out before them sweet and simple, Nathan was to return to the bar, order a beer, and then meander towards the back of the saloon, positioning himself behind the outlaws, while moments later, Deputy Mack would go in, minus his badge of course, and position himself just to the side of them. After a couple of minutes of Mack's arrival, the Sheriff would walk in and approach the subjects and inform them that they were under arrest. If there was any resistance from any or all of the outlaws, they would be in perfect position to quell any opposition put up by the bandits. “Be careful now, if this thing goes South, make sure not to shoot each other,” said David as he started checking both pistols to see that they were loaded completely. The others, Nathan and Mack did the same out of habit and precaution, all three finding that there were no empty chambers among them.
Nathan walked with true grit and determination into the bar, surveying the position of each of the men in the reflection of the grand mirror that hung at the back of the bar. The bartender walked up to him kinda puzzled and replied, “So, you're back, I see” “Looks that way, don't it?” he answered, as he told him he'd have another beer. Keeping a watchful and trained eye on the men at the table, and looking for the best place for himself to be, he noticed an empty table just feet away from the outlaws. It was an uncomfortable bit closer than what he had anticipated, but it was the only option if he was to get behind them where he agreed and needed to be. Like clockwork, Deputy Mack, without his badge, walked into the bar and repeated the same precautionary routine that Nathan had just done. Locating the perfect spot just to the side of their prey, he walked over as if he didn't have a care in the world, and pulled out a chair and pretended to read the dime store novel he had carried in with him as a charade. Both men looked towards and away from the outlaws, each careful not to be noticed by any of them, and towards the saloon entrance, ready for the sheriff to walk in and start the dance.
Within minutes, the lawman entered the saloon, and scouting for his friends in the bar and finding them just about where he expected them to be, he gave the “go ahead nod”, and with his hand resting on the heel of his Colt, he walked straight up to the men and announced to their disappointment and surprise, “We have you completely surrounded, place your hands firmly on the table in front of you and don't dare twitch even a muscle”. Shane, for that brief moment, thought of William, who was smart enough to leave the minute he found out the law was onto them, but was left shaking his head at the arrogant and careless mistake he had made by staying behind. Nathan and the Deputy stood taut and at the ready as they both approached the table with guns drawn, thinking the plan they had come up with had worked perfectly until Chris, the wild eyed one, while desperately grabbing for his shooting' iron, dove to the hardwood floor and the malicious exchange of deadly lead and contempt had begun. As the seasoned and gun steady lawmen began firing their weapons, they quickly began scrambling for what little cover there was. The patrons of the saloon, caught in the bloody crossfire and raining hail of lead, either hit the floor out of instinct, or headed swiftly for the front and rear entrances of the building. David, unable to hide himself out in the open, hastily made his way to the bar, and just as quickly jumped over it, sliding across the weathered top of it on his back before landing mercifully behind it, and right on top of the cowering bartender. While Deputy Mack ran assuredly for the nearest support beam of knotted pine, though barely wide enough to cover him, he began emptying both smoking barrels at the desperate outlaws who were ducking for cover and returning their fire. Wayne“Scarfaced”Martin was the first bandit to receive a fatal wound, as the blood began pouring profusely from the main artery in his neck, administered with malice and precision by the town's sheriff within the first 10 seconds of the heated gun battle. Chris, firing wildly, had winged Deputy Mack in the upper shoulder, but the raw tenacity and sheer determination that he was known for, had him still in the fight, and oblivious to the wound that scarred him. Shane Walters had turned over the table they were sitting at, and quickly dragged it towards the rear of the saloon, and just a matter of yards from the rear exit. Chris rolled across the floor with both barrels blazing until he found a safe haven for the time being at the entrance to the lavatory, but continued firing with his pistol blindly shooting from around the edge of the wall that stood between him and the ensuing fracas. Veterans of many a gun battle, each of the men paused briefly to reload. Seizing an opportunity in the lull of the battle, Shane ran the few yards to the rear exit, and stealing a horse from an innocent passerby after shooting the unsuspecting man in the center of his chest, spurred the stolen beast to full gate as the sounds of the firefight and clods of dirt flung by rapid hooves was left behind him. Chris, seeing he was too far from either entrance or exit, took advantage of the hidden sanctuary he found