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from Clarion s armlock around her neck. She
kicked him in the shin. For the space of a breath, his
198 Ed Gorman
hold loosened. I had the exhilarating sense that she
was going to jerk and twist free of him. But then his
grip was redoubled and when she tried to kick him
again, he clipped her on top of the head with the
handle of his gun. She slumped in his arm, awake
but in pain.
He was done now. Didn t matter if he had a
hostage; didn t matter if he had David s gun. He had
to know that his world was caving in on him. The
shame of destroying his marriage, the shame of mur-
dering several men, and finally the shame of having
to take a little girl hostage to save himself in his
frenzy he had to give up on his dime-novel dream of
himself. He wasn t the good guy, he was the bad guy.
In his case, a very bad guy.
As if to mock us with its indifference, the cacoph-
ony of day went right on its way. Birds sang, sweet
breezes blew, cows did what cows do, and the wee
kittens were cute and playful. Who gave a damn
about this stupid human drama where a little girl was
probably about to lose her life? Humans were always
doing stupid things like this. They never changed,
never learned. Birds, cows and wee kittens had given
up on humans a long time ago, anyway.
 I m walking her to my horse. I don t have to tell
you what happens if you make a move on me, Ford.
 You killed too many people, Clarion. You ll never
walk away.
 You don t have no idea what s really going on
around here.
 What about James and Tib and my brother?
Julia started to rouse. She d hung limply in his
arms but now, like a puppet whose strings had been
reattached, the limbs got awkwardly active, jutting
Cavalry Man: The Killing Machine 199
this way and that for the arms, the knees strong
enough to force the legs to stand upright.
 I didn t kill nobody. The way I figure, it was Way-
land. He heard me run my mouth off to Tib one night
when we were drinking how I was going to kill
your brother and take the gun for myself. That was
my plan. But by the time I got there, they were all
dead. And somebody was in the barn, firing at you
and James and Tib. I just rode back to town. Now
put your arms up in the air.
His bay was west of the house, ground-tied. He
wouldn t have any trouble reaching it. Julia was cry-
ing quietly, glancing at her mother every few minutes.
Nothing I could do. He was going to leave and he
knew there wasn t a damn thing I could do about it.
Julia tried kicking him again, but this time he moved
his leg out of the way in time. He slugged her again
on the side of the head, but not as hard as last time.
 Is my mommy dead, mister? she cried out at me
as Frank Clarion dragged her past me to his horse.
 She ll be all right, honey.
Clarion laughed.  You shoulda been a priest,
Ford.
Julia started crying again. At that moment the
world couldn t make much sense to her. If it ever
would again. Far as I could tell, her mother was
dead.
He got around the house. He wasn t having any
trouble with Julia. She d either given up or had passed
out. Her arms dangled at her sides, seeming to swing
free. I heard a horse whinny and then I heard Clarion
muttering instructions to Julia. He was setting her up
on his saddle. He was telling her he d shoot her if she
didn t sit absolutely still. The silence was such that I
200 Ed Gorman
could hear his saddle leather when he climbed up on
the horse. The horse whinnied again and moved
around some. He settled it down before moving it
away from the yard. He started out slow, the horse
moving just a few yards. I wondered if he was having
trouble with Julia. Strange he didn t just start moving
fast. A second or two before he did it, I figured out
why he was moving so slow. There was one shot and
then a second. I don t know how to describe the
sound my horse made, a cry that was part shock and
part pain. Then the sound became pure pain. The
horse collapsed. The sound seemed as enormous as
the cry of pain had been. Then Clarion was moving
fast and so was I.
The horse was dead by the time I got to it. Tremors
skittered across its flesh like spiderflies on a pond
surface. At least the prick had been merciful. Two
bullets in the brain.
Gwen was stone dead. You could feel the life still
warm but cooling fast in the horse. But Gwen was
cold dead. I turned her over on her back. Black ants
had collected on the blood red of her blouse. She d
hit the ground so hard that her sharp prairie-elegant
nose had been smashed. She smelled pretty bad,
everything having emptied out the way it did. People
didn t figure sometimes, didn t figure at all, and she
was one of them. Whatever James had done to her, a
shitkicker thief like Clarion sure wasn t the solution.
Clarion had forgotten about the horse out back of
the barn, the one Gwen used for her buckboard. I re-
membered it only because it made some noise on the
downwind. I dragged my saddle off my own poor,
dead animal and got it on the ancient cutting horse
that somebody had returned from the cattle business
Cavalry Man: The Killing Machine 201
years earlier. Getting it to stand still while I saddled
it was no easy task. When I finally grabbed the horn
and started to swing myself up into the saddle, it
spooked and nearly threw me to the ground.
It took me ninety-two minutes by railroad watch
to reach town. It should have taken me sixty at the
outside.
Chapter 18
B'
arshal Wickham was in his office. Just inside the
front door, I could hear him talking back there.
MI didn t wait for somebody to find me and escort
me back.
His door was closed. I opened it and put my head in.
He was talking to a man in muttonchops. The dis-
gusted way the man looked at me said that he was
important. His two big ruby rings and his expensive
purple suit said he was important, too. I m sure he
was the president of a lodge or two.
 In case you hadn t noticed, Wickham said,  I m
sort of busy at the moment. He sounded mad and I
didn t blame him.
I said,  I want you to swear out a warrant for
Clarion on one count of murder. There may be oth-
ers later on.
Muttonchops turned in his chair and said,  Who
the hell is this man, anyway?
But I d obviously gotten Wickham s attention.
 What the hell are you talking about, Ford?
 He just killed Gwen and kidnapped her daughter.
 Frank Clarion? My deputy? Easy to see that he
Cavalry Man: The Killing Machine 203
wasn t beyond shock, either, not even for all his years
as a lawman.  That s my nephew.
He was talking gibberish, the way we all do when
we don t know what else to say. As if it was impossi-
ble for his nephew to be capable of even the smallest
crime.
 He grew up right here in town.
 I certainly hope you know what the hell you re
talking about, Muttonchops said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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