The big gundown (13 page)

It was a desperate ploy, but the only one The Kid could think of on such short notice and in such perilous circumstances. As he rode toward Colonel Black, the guns in the hands of the other outlaws swung toward him, and he knew that he and Glory were right on the hair-trigger edge of being filled full of lead.

Black made a slashing motion with the saber. “Hold your fire!” he shouted to his men. “Hold your fire!”

The Kid leaned his head close to Glory’s and said in her ear, “Fight me! Make it look real. I’ll explain later.”

She was quick-witted enough to realize that he had some sort of plan. She began struggling frantically against him, screaming, “No! Let me go, damn you! Let me go!”

She was doing a good job of acting, he thought as he jerked his head to the side so that the elbow she tried to ram into his face barely grazed his jaw. Maybe she wasn’t acting. Maybe she was so terrified that the meaning of his words hadn’t really penetrated her brain. Either way, Black’s men didn’t riddle them with bullets as they rode up to the colonel, and that was all The Kid cared about.

“Morgan!” Black exclaimed. “When you didn’t show up at the appointed time, I thought you had decided to double cross me.”

“I got delayed,” The Kid said, nodding toward the squirming, cursing bundle of redheaded female in his arms. “When the shooting started, I figured you must be raiding the town, so I grabbed Mrs. Sheffield and came looking for you. She’s one of the things you’re after, isn’t she?”

Black waved his men on, then brought his horse closer to The Kid’s and reached out toward Glory, who flinched away from his touch. “My dear,” he said. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“Get away from me, you bastard!” she cried. “Let me go!” She tried again to reach behind her and hit The Kid. “Damn you, Morgan!”

Colonel Black smiled. “Can you hang on to her, Morgan, or do you want me to take her?”

“I’ve got her,” The Kid said. “Don’t worry, Colonel, she won’t get away.”

“Then we’re on the same side, you and I?”

The Kid let a savage grin stretch across his face. “I always like to be on the winning side, and from the looks of it, this isn’t even a contest.”

Here and there along the street, fires continued to rage. The masked outlaws rode back and forth, their guns spitting death at anyone who dared to oppose them. Not many of the townspeople were doing that anymore. From the looks of it, the Cannon Gang had Titusville just about buffaloed.

“It was never a contest,” Black said as a triumphant smile of his own appeared on his face. “Edward Sheffield and his minions were doomed from the moment he betrayed me. It was just a matter of time before I took my vengeance on him and reclaimed what’s rightfully mine.”

The look he gave Glory made it abundantly clear that he considered her part of the spoils of his victory.

“You’re mad!” she told him. “You’re out of your mind, Gideon!”

“Don’t say that, my dear. You’ll soon love me again.”

“Never!”

Glory had stopped struggling in The Kid’s grip, but tears of rage and fear and futility continued to run down her face. The Kid knew that pretending to join Black’s forces was the only way to save their lives, although it was likely that Black wouldn’t have allowed Glory to be killed. The Kid was still alive to help her and to continue trying to figure out a way to stop the colonel’s reign of terror.

“Follow me, Morgan,” Black ordered as he turned his horse. “And be careful not to let that little hellcat get away.”

“You can count on it, Colonel,” The Kid said. “She’s not going anywhere except with us.”

They rode through the chaos and confusion that choked Titusville’s main street, heading north toward the ridge where the cannon was set up and the Dragoon Mountains beyond it. Black led the way, and as he pulled out a little ahead of Morgan and Glory, she leaned back and asked Morgan in a low voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping both of us alive,” The Kid told her through clenched teeth. “Black approached me earlier tonight and tried to recruit me for his little owlhoot army. I went along with him. I was supposed to meet him up on the ridge before the attack started, but you caused me to miss that appointment.”

“I’m sorry,” Glory said coldly.

“Don’t be. This might work out even better.”

“Better! How could it be better?”

“By turning you over to him, I’ve convinced him more than ever that I’m on his side,” The Kid said. “Otherwise, he would have just killed me and taken you with him anyway.”

Glory shook her head. “You don’t know how insane he is. You can’t trust him, Kid, not for a second.”

“I don’t intend to. And I’ll keep you safe as much as I possibly can.”

“That fate worse than death business again?” She laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor in the sound. “Don’t worry, Kid, Gideon can’t do anything to me that he hasn’t already done.”

The Kid didn’t figure that was any of his business, but he didn’t say anything. He looked around him at the death and destruction that had descended on Titusville, and he was reminded once more of the wanton slaughter that had taken place at the Williams ranch. Colonel Black obviously had no regard whatsoever for human life. He snuffed it out casually, without even thinking about it, any time somebody got in his way or did something to offend his warped sense of justice. He was a monster, and sooner or later, The Kid was going to kill him.

But that would have to wait for the right time, and as the horses began to climb the ridge above the burning town, The Kid didn’t know when that was going to be.

It couldn’t come soon enough to suit him.

Colonel Black obviously knew the trails in the foothills of the Dragoons, because he led them toward the top of the ridge with ease. Glory knew to continue her pose as a terrified prisoner of her vengeful ex-lover. It didn’t take much acting on her part, The Kid thought, because in truth, both of them actually were in a great deal of danger. Trying to fool someone as unstable and violent as the former colonel was a risky business.

So far, though, Black seemed well pleased with the evening’s work. Titusville was in shambles, and Glory was in his power.

“What are you going to do to Edward?” she called to Black as she and The Kid rode behind him.

Black turned in the saddle to smile back at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. I gave strict orders that he wasn’t to be killed…yet. I want him to suffer first, as I suffered.”

“But you didn’t suffer,” Glory argued. “You didn’t even go to prison, like you easily could have if not for my father.”

The Kid didn’t think it was a particularly good idea to be reminding Black about that, but as usual, Glory had a mind of her own and wasn’t hesitant about expressing it.

The colonel reined in and glared at her. “You think I should be grateful for the treachery practiced by your father and that so-called husband of yours? They cost me my military career. They stole all the respect that anyone ever felt for me.”

“You did that yourself when you decided to become part of a crooked deal,” Glory shot back at him, ignoring the warning squeeze that The Kid gave her arm.

“I was drawn into it by the scheming of those two!”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” Glory insisted.

The Kid decided this had gone on long enough. He lifted a hand as if he were about to hit her and growled, “Shut up!”

Instantly, Colonel Black whipped out his revolver. “Morgan!” he snapped. “I appreciate your help, but if you strike the lady, I’ll kill you.”

The Kid lowered his hand. “Take it easy, Colonel,” he said. “I won’t hurt her. I just want her to stop her yapping.”

Maybe Glory would get the message from that, he thought.

“It’s not your place to worry about such things,” Black said coldly. “I’m in command here, Morgan, and don’t forget it.”

The Kid nodded. “Sorry, Colonel. It won’t happen again.”

They rode on, and thankfully, Glory quieted down. A few minutes later, the zigzagging trail they were following came out on top of the ridge. The Kid spotted the cannon perched near the edge. The area around it was lit by a couple of torches stuck in the ground. The bombardment had ended, and the men who had been working as gunners now stood around the cannon.

The Kid got his first close-up look at the big gun. It was a massive thing, mounted on two wheels with a sort of cart behind it to give it extra support and absorb some of the recoil. A team of four mules stood off to one side, and The Kid knew that when the outlaws were ready to move the cannon, those mules would be hitched to it. Two mules were already hitched to another cart nearby. The Kid figured it was used to carry ammunition, powder, and everything else the gang needed to fire the big gun.

The cannon’s barrel was about six feet long and a foot in diameter. The muzzle itself was six inches wide, The Kid estimated. A cannonball that size would pack a hell of a punch behind it. He had seen for himself the extent of the damage a round like that could do. It was a devastating weapon. The Kid wondered if Colonel Black had stolen it from some military armory somewhere.

Black reined in. The Kid did likewise. With a proud smile, Black waved a hand toward the cannon.

“How do you like my little toy, Morgan?” he asked.

“That’s a pretty dangerous toy,” The Kid replied.

“Indeed it is. Napoleon thought so, too, when he took it to Russia in 1812 and used it and all its brethren to lay siege to Moscow.”

The Kid remembered studying about that at the academy and in college. He gave in to curiosity and asked, “How did you get your hands on it, Colonel?”

“The French army abandoned most of their heavy artillery when Napoleon gave up and began retreating that winter. The entire campaign was riddled with terrible strategic mistakes.” The colonel had a note of smug superiority in his voice as he explained. “The Russians claimed the cannon, and later, they were brought to Fort Ross, the Russian settlement in what’s now California. When the Russians withdrew from Fort Ross, they left behind several of the cannon, and this one”—Black leaned over in his saddle and patted the big gun’s barrel affectionately—“this one passed through a number of hands before winding up in mine. A man who plans to fight a war should be well armed, Morgan.”

“You really are mad, Gideon,” Glory said quietly.

Black didn’t lose his temper. He just shook his head and said, “You’ll see how wrong you are about me, Gloriana. You’ll see that you should have been loyal to me all along. I’ll win you over again, just like I’ll win this war against that treacherous husband of yours.”

“What are you going to do then?” Glory demanded. “Go to Washington and lay siege to the War Department so you can satisfy your grudge against my father? I’d like to see you try that!”

“Perhaps you shall,” Black said, still smiling confidently. “Who knows? Perhaps destroying your husband’s empire will be just the beginning. Who’s to say that I won’t wind up running the entire Arizona Territory? And from there—” Black stopped and shook his head. “Ah, well, it’s just a dream…for now. In the future, who knows? But those who are loyal to me—and you should listen to this, Morgan—those who are loyal to me will reap great rewards, I promise you that.”

“Don’t worry, Colonel,” The Kid said. “I’ll back your play, all the way.”

“Very good. Hang on to our prisoner. That’s your task for now.” Black turned to the other outlaws on the bluff. “Prepare the cannon to be moved. We’ll be returning to the stronghold as soon as the others finish in town and join us.”

The stronghold.
That sounded mighty interesting, The Kid thought. He would have to know where it was, if he was to have any hope of breaking the colonel’s power and bringing him to justice. And it looked like if he played along and could manage to stay alive for a while, he stood a good chance of finding out.

While the outlaws began hitching the mule team to the cannon under Black’s supervision, The Kid sat there on the buckskin with Glory in front of him. He felt a little tremble go through her and put his mouth close to her ear again.

“It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “We’ll just have to bide our time.”

“He really is crazy,” she murmured.

“Yeah, but he holds all the cards right now.”

Below them, Titusville continued to burn.

Not long after that, the rest of the gang came boiling up the trail, whooping and shooting into the air in sheer exuberance at the success of the raid they had just carried out. Colonel Black rode out to meet them, followed by The Kid and Glory. “Captain Devlin!” Black hailed one of the men.

The man rode over to join them and pulled down the bandanna that covered the lower half of his face, revealing coarse, hard-bitten features. He was no more a captain than a monkey was, The Kid thought, but Black seemed to like to maintain the façade that the bandit crew was a military outfit.

“Report, Captain.” Black issued the command in a brisk tone of voice.

“Mission successful, Colonel,” Devlin rasped. “We hit the bank, the stores, the saloons, every place there was money. And we’ve got bags and bags full of loot to show for it.”

“What about the mining company?”

“We stayed away from it, like you said for us to. There were some lights in there, but nobody came out and offered to fight us.”

Black snorted contemptuously. “Of course not. Like all thieves, Edward Sheffield is essentially a coward. He prefers to sneak around, stealing and fouling everything like a rat, rather than confront his enemies in the open.”

Glory said, “If you hate him so badly, why don’t you just go ahead and kill him?”

Black shook his head. “That wouldn’t be sufficient punishment for his sins. As I told you, my dear, that husband of yours will have to suffer before I finally put him out of his misery. I wasn’t happy when I saw that one of the rounds from the cannon went astray and struck the mining company building. I checked when we rode into town, and it didn’t seem to have done much damage. I’m sure Sheffield was fine. Probably cowering under the desk in his office, wetting himself in fear.”

Glory snarled at him. “You son of a bitch.”

Black leaned over in the saddle and slapped her, his gauntleted hand coming up so fast that Glory had no chance to get out of the way of the blow. Her head rocked to the side under the impact. The Kid felt it through her body, and anger welled up inside him. He wanted to go after Black, but with an effort, he suppressed the urge.

“That sort of language is unacceptable from an officer’s lady, Gloriana,” Black said sternly. “You’ll learn how to behave properly once we’re married. I’ll see to that.”

“You’ll see to this, you—”

More obscenities spewed from her mouth. Black stiffened in the saddle, and taking a chance, The Kid clapped a hand over Glory’s mouth, muffling the tide of invective.

“With the colonel’s permission, sir,” The Kid said.

Black nodded curtly. “Thank you…Sergeant Morgan.”

So he was a sergeant now, was he? He supposed that was better than being a private, although he suspected that everybody in Gideon Black’s outlaw army was at least a sergeant.

Black turned back to the owlhoot called Devlin. “All right, Captain, we’ll be returning to the stronghold now. Pass the order to the men.”

“Yes, sir,” Devlin said. He didn’t salute, but he might as well have.

The mule team was hitched up to the cannon, and men on horseback held the reins of the two leaders. Another man perched on the seat of the ammunition cart to handle that team. The rest of the gang formed up into rows and columns, somewhat to The Kid’s surprise. From the looks of it, Black had actually succeeded in imposing a little military discipline on his gun-wolves. They probably went along with it only because they expected a big payoff, but it was still something of an accomplishment.

With The Kid and Glory beside him, Black rode to the front of the gang. He lifted his hand above his head and then swept it forward, calling out in a deep, powerful voice, “Column,
ho!”

Loaded down with the cannon and the loot they had taken from Titusville, the outlaws set off into the night, bound for their hideout.

Or, rather, their stronghold, The Kid reminded himself.

He couldn’t wait to see it.

The stronghold lived up to its name. The sun was rising by the time the gang got there. Garish, orange-red light flooded the valley up which the outlaws rode with their cannon and their prisoner. At the far end of the valley rose an almost sheer cliff, topped by a rounded mound of rock that bore an uncanny resemblance to a human skull. A red skull, in that light. At the base of the cliff was an overhang that shielded a large chamber that had been reinforced and walled off with rock and adobe. A thick adobe wall enclosed an area of several acres in front of the cliff. Gates made of heavy timbers stood open, and through the gap between them, The Kid saw a number of log cabins. The logs came from the scrubby pines that dotted the valley floor. Guard towers also made of logs stood at the front corners of the wall.

“A virtually impregnable fortress,” Black boasted to The Kid as the large group of riders approached. “The valley leading up to it is almost two miles long, and from the stronghold, we can cover that entire field of fire. Two more of Napoleon’s cannon are mounted up there, and with this one in place as well, we can lay down a barrage that ensures no enemy will ever come close to us.”

The Kid had never been a military man, but he could see that Black was right. The men in the stronghold would have every advantage against anyone who wanted to roust them out of there.

By now exhaustion had claimed Glory. She had been dozing in The Kid’s arms for several miles as they rocked along in the saddle. Weariness gripped The Kid as well, but he fought it off. He couldn’t afford to get careless.

Black’s voice roused Glory from her sleep. She lifted her head, which had been sagging forward on her shoulders, and looked around with bleary eyes. “Wh-where are we?” she asked.

“Your new home, my dear,” Black told her. He swept a hand toward the compound at the base of the bloodred cliff.

Glory stiffened against The Kid. “It looks horrible,” she said. “That big rock looks like a skull.”

“The Apaches who used to live in this area called it
El Cráneo Rojo
…the Red Skull,” Black explained, confirming the impression The Kid had of the bizarre-looking rock formation.

“I suppose it’s an appropriate home…for a butcher like you,” Glory said.

Black reined in to look intently at her. “You’ll feel differently about me soon,” he said.

“Not unless it’s to be relieved that you’re dead.”

The Kid tightened his arm around her. Clearly, Glory had never learned when it was a good idea to keep her mouth shut. She took the hint that time, though, looking away from Black and not saying anything else.

With Black proudly in the lead, they rode on toward the stronghold. As they came closer, The Kid spotted the two cannon the colonel had mentioned, one at each corner next to the guard towers. There had to be a parapet running around the inside of the wall. It must have been a difficult chore hoisting those heavy guns up onto it. He saw men in the towers as well, and the early morning sun glinting off glass hinted that they were scanning the valley with field glasses.

“I’m looking into getting a pair of Gatling guns,” Black commented as they approached the gates. “If I’m successful in that effort, we’ll have enough firepower here to hold off any attack that could be mounted against us.”

The colonel was living in a dream world if he thought he could stand up to the U.S. Army, The Kid mused. The army had even bigger guns and could stand off at a distance and shell the place into dust, along with everybody in it.

That was pretty unlikely to happen, though, as long as the daughter of the Assistant Secretary of War was Black’s prisoner.

The men in the guard towers and on the wall raised their hands in greeting as the column of outlaws rode through the open gates. Black turned his head and called, “Captain Devlin!”

Devlin rode forward quickly. “Yes, Colonel?”

“Thank the men for their faithful service and dismiss them, will you?”

“Yes, sir!” Devlin turned his horse and rode back to join the others.

“Sergeant Morgan, if you’ll bring the prisoner and come with me,” Black went on.

“I’m with you, Colonel,” The Kid said.

“Responding ‘Yes, sir,’ will be sufficient.” Black’s tone was cool, a lot cooler than the air that had already begun to heat up as the sun rose.

“Yes, sir.” The Kid didn’t like kowtowing to the renegade colonel, but at the moment, if he wanted to keep Glory alive and reasonably safe, he didn’t have much choice but to go along with whatever Black wanted.

The colonel headed for the dwelling that had been built into the base of the cliff. The Kid glanced over his shoulder and saw that the rest of the gang was scattering behind them. Some of the outlaws rode toward a long, low building that was probably a bunkhouse, while the others headed for individual cabins. The Kid saw women emerge from those cabins…some white, some Mexican, some Indian. Obviously a number of the owlhoots had brought their women with them when they joined up with Colonel Black. Some of them might even be legally married. It wasn’t that uncommon for an outlaw to have a family, according to what Frank Morgan had told The Kid in the past.

The Kid saw smoke rising from the chimney of a blacksmith shop, and another building had the look of a store or trading post about it. Nearby was what appeared to be a garden patch. There was even a corral with several cattle in it, and their heavy udders told him they were milk cows. It was as if Colonel Black had established his own little settlement there, almost self-sufficient and cut off from the outside world. From this refuge, he intended to carry out his vengeance quest against Edward Sheffield and perhaps even extend his campaign to take over more of the territory.

Sure, the colonel was loco, The Kid thought, but the sooner he was stopped, the less damage he could do with his crazy plans. He had already been responsible for a great deal of death and destruction, and he would continue to spill innocent blood until someone killed him or locked him up.

The Kid had a hunch it would have to be the former. A fanatic like Black would never surrender. He would fight to the death.

An ornately carved door, like the front door of a mansion, was set into the wall that closed off the chamber under the cliff. It swung open, and a stocky Mexican emerged. He saluted Black and said in only slightly accented English, “Colonel…good to see you again, sir. Was your mission a success?”

“Yes, it was, Sergeant Lopez,” Black answered. “Is the room prepared for our guest?”

“Of course, sir, just like you ordered.”

“We’ll have another officer staying with us. This is Lieutenant Morgan, my new aide-de-camp.”

The colonel must be really grateful to him for capturing Glory, The Kid thought. He had already gotten a promotion in the time it took to ride there, as well as a new assignment. That was all right. If it kept him closer to Black, it kept him closer to Glory Sheffield as well.

Black dismounted and motioned for The Kid and Glory to do likewise. He told Lopez to have their horses tended to, then stepped to the door and held out a hand to usher them inside.

“Welcome to your new home, my dear,” he said.