Rio Loco (19 page)

I reckon Owl Shit didn't have no breath left in him after Bonnie had landed her lard ass on top of him, and she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outta the water with her and then ran up to the shed. She fell down with him on the mill side a' the shed with bullets hitting in the dirt all around her. My God, but she was a wonder. I thunk about calling out to her again to bring Owl Shit on over to the mill with the rest of us, but I was a-feared that she would never make it with all them gunshots going on. I was a-feared to make a move my own self.

Out of a corner of my eye, I seen Polly make a rifle shot outta one a' the winders, and I looked back toward the hotel and seen one a' Chugwater's boys come a-crashing through a upstairs hotel winder and fall to the ground below. He didn't move after that, and I figgered that Polly had kilt him. So they was only eighteen left. I hollered back over my shoulder, “Boys, cover me.” Ever'one inside the mill commenced firing most at once, and I turned and run back inside through the front door. They was so many bullets flying, I don't know how I made it inside without being hit, but I did. I pressed my ass against the wall just inside a' the door. Then I sneaked a peek out and looked over to where Bonnie and Owl Shit was huddled behint the shed.

Owl Shit musta been about to recover, on account a' I seen him struggling to set up. Bonnie wound up and slugged him right hard against
his jaw, and he dropped again. He were out cold. I could tell. Even so, I didn't like seeing her stuck over there away from the rest of us. I looked around, gauging my men. The best bet seemed to be ole Churkee. “Churkee,” I said, “do you think you can get your ass over there to Bonnie without getting it shot?”

He tuck a look. “I can make it,” he said.

“We'll all cover you the best we can,” I said. “When you get over there, watch for a chance to get Bonnie and Owl Shit back over here, but don't take no chances.”

“Okay,” he said. He got hisself against the wall just inside the doorway right opposite to where I was at. He watched for a bit, and then said, “Now?”

I said, “Ever'one go to shooting.”

I couldn't see no one over there to shoot at, so I just shot into the winders. I think ever'one else was doing the same, but we had such a barrage a-going that it kept the Chugwater boys' heads down so that they weren't shooting back at us. Churkee bolted. He run low and in a wiggly line, but only a couple a' bullets hit the dirt somewhere near his feet while he was a-running. When he got close to the shed, he made a dive, and he rolled up right close to Bonnie where she was a-setting. I seen her give him a hug like as if she were sure glad to have him there. I thunk, though, that it was not much of a greeting for him to be bear-hugged like to death. But I was sure glad that Churkee was over there with her. Sly moved over beside a' me.

“What now, Barjack?” he said.

“We need to try to get them three back over here with us,” I said. I puffed on my cigar like as if it were going outta style.

Sly give me a look. “Barjack,” he said, “if we were to blow up a stick of dynamite right in front of the hotel, that should distract them for a minute while Miller gets Bonnie and Owl Shit back over here.”

My eyes musta lit up at that suggestion. I don't know why in hell I hadn't thunk about it my own self. I opened out my jacket and pulled out a stick a' that stuff. I helt it out for Sly to look at. “You want me to throw it?” he said.

“I think you got the best arm,” I said.

He tuck it in his right hand and helt it out for me. I puffed on my cigar and then tuck it and touched the lit end to the fuse on the dynamite. It caught of a sudden and went to spewing. Then he stepped outside and even a few steps out in front a' the mill, and the rest of us went to shooting to keep the heads acrost the way inside and give him a chance. Sly reared back and flung that dynamite about as hard as he could fling, I reckon. I watched it arc way up and over, a-slinging a trail a' fizz as it went on its way. Sly come a-diving back in through the open front door. He hit the floor and rolled, coming back up on his feet. That spewing stick landed just in front a' the porch a' the hotel, and in another couple a' seconds, it blowed.

Churkee figgered out what we was a-doing, and he grabbed Owl Shit and said something to Bonnie,
and the three of them come a-running back to the mill. In the background, behint them, there was a shower a' dirt as big as anyone coulda wanted. No one in the hotel coulda saw nothing through that cloud. My ears was a-ringing from the sound a' the blast. Churkee hit the front a' the mill and shoved Bonnie in first; then he shoved Owl Shit through the door, and final he come through hisself. The smoke and dust cleared about then, and the Chugwaters went to shooting again. We was all of us a-huddled back outta sight, though, and the bullets wasn't doing us no harm.

I couldn't help myself. I grabbed Bonnie and give her a bear hug a' my own. I slobbered a kiss on her too. When she got over her astonishment at what I had did, she squeezed me back and like to stopped my breathing, and then she slobbered a great big kiss on me. Whenever I recovered, I stepped back so I could look her in the face, and I said, “Bonnie, my darling sweet tits, I was never so glad to see you before in my whole and entire life. You ain't hurt, is you?”

“Oh, Barjack,” she said, “I'm all right. But I am sure as hell glad to be back with you.”

“Bonnie, you done real good out there,” I tole her, and I meant it. “It were a stroke of genius the way you knocked ole Owl Shit off a' that bridge. I'm so proud a' you I just don't know how to tell you.”

“Barjack,” she said, and she went and squoze me again.

The gun shooting had started up again by then,
so I broke loose and went back to the winder. I seen a couple a' bodies laying out on the ground. I don't know who done it, but someone on our side had got in a couple a' good shots. I figgered at best they was only sixteen a' the bastards left over yonder. I were looking for something to shoot at, when of a sudden about eight or ten a' the sons a' bitches come out the front door a' the hotel with their guns a-blazing. They had decided on a full frontal assault against us, and they was a-coming hard and fast. I didn't have much time to think about it. I just jerked another stick a' dynamite outta my pocket and lit it with my cigar, and then I stepped out and throwed it. I felt a couple a' bullets tear through my coat, but I never felt none of them tear through me.

“Look out,” one a' the bastards yelled when he seen what I had did. Then they all stopped and turned and started to run off in different directions, but they wasn't fast enough. That dynamite landed in the big middle a' the shit-asses, and in another second it blowed. This time I watched the big cloud go up, and I seen it carry some bodies with it. I ain't sure how many of them it kilt, but there was at least five bodies laying around whenever the dust died down.

“Good shot, Barjack,” said Sly.

“Aw, hell,” I said, “they was a-coming at me, getting closer.”

“Barjack, you dirty skunk,” said Owl Shit, “you cheated.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I said.

“We had all agreed,” he said. “This was supposed
to be an exchange a' prisoners. You cheated whenever you went to shooting.”

“Well, hell,” I said, “the situation changed whenever you fell off a' the bridge.”

“I never fell,” he said. “I was pushed.”

“You wasn't pushed,” said Bonnie. “I knocked your ass off into the crick.”

“It was still cheating,” he said.

“Owl Shit,” I said, “I'm just going to say one more thing about it and that's all. All bets was off whenever your snake-in-the-grass bastard brother went and tuck a woman, my sweet Bonnie, for a hostage. Any man what would make war on a woman ain't deserving a' no considerations. And I don't want to hear you say nothing more about it neither. That was the last word.”

He opened his mouth like as if he wanted to say something more, but he thunk better of it and kept quiet. I pointed to an old box setting over against the wall. “Now set down there and keep your yap shut,” I said, and he did.

I went back to the winder looking for a target. Happy and Butcher was both a-sniping at something over there. Dingle was setting way back outta the way a-scribbling. Bonnie was right beside a' me looking out the winder. I could tell she were just a-itching to get into the action.

“Did anyone bring me a gun?” she said.

I looked back at Dingle. “He ain't using his,” I told her. “Take it.”

Bonnie went back and snatched the rifle what Dingle had brung along. He glanced at her as she done it, but he never said nothing. I reckon he
was about as busy as he could stand it already. Bonnie come back beside a' me and looked out the winder. Just as she did, a Chugwater puncher stepped out on the porch with a rifle and tuck aim at us. Bonnie shouldered her rifle right quick and snapped off a shot and dropped that son of a bitch right away. I hugged her and kissed her fat cheek, and she grinned real big.

The shooting from across the crick slowed down and like to stopped. I don't know how come. Could be they was getting picked off too easy and needed a break. Anyhow, I was getting kinda tired of it all my own self. I asked ole Sly, “How'd you like to toss another stick a' dynamite?”

“Just fine,” he said, so I pulled out another one and give it to him. Then I puffed on my cigar again and lit the fuse. “I'll get it closer this time,” he said, and he stepped outside. A couple a' bullets hit near him as he stepped on out farther, and then he hove it with all a' his might, and he turned and come a-running back in. It flowed high and real purty this time. I liked watching it sail through the air and a-knowing what would come whenever it hit. This one was a grand throw. It landed on the roof over the porch, and when it blowed, sticks and splinters went ever'where.

It was a truly wonderful blast, a cloud a' smoke and dust and wood, and when it went to clearing some, we could see that the porch roof was plumb gone and part a' the front wall a' the building was gone too. What was left was on fire. Several cowhands had come a-staggering and coughing through the cloud a-holding their hands
up over their heads. I looked for Chugwater, but I couldn't find him. I stepped out in front a' the mill with my Merwin Hulbert in my hand, and ole Sly, he stepped out beside a' me. I reckon that Owl Shit, he couldn't stand the tension, so he jumped up from where he was a-setting and come running out to stand beside us and see what was going on.

“Are you boys a-giving it up?” I yelled out.

“We quit, Marshal,” one of them yelled. “We don't want to get blowed to bits.”

“Throw your guns down in the dirt,” I said, “and come a-walking slow over that bridge.”

They all done what I tole them to do. They throwed their guns down and walked to the bridge and come a-walking over it. I called out to Happy and Butcher, “Keep these boys all covered. March them around to the back a' the mill and hold them there.”

“Let's go,” Happy said, and they started in to walk, but I stopped them.

“Hold it a minute,” I said. “Is they any more a' you over there in that hotel?”

“No one but the boss,” said one a' the cowhands.

“Are you sure a' that?” I ast him. “If I find out there's any more a' you cowboys still over there, it'll go hard on you.”

“No,” he said. “There ain't no more. Just only Chugwater. He wouldn't quit. He called us chickenshits and told us to go on ahead. He said he didn't need us nohow.”

“Okay,” I said. “Take them on away.”

Happy and Butcher marched them on outta sight. I turned to Sly. “What do you reckon we'd ought to do now?” I said.

“We could march on over there and go looking through the building. What's left of it.”

“We could,” I said.

“I wouldn't recommend it, though.”

“No?”

“Nope. He could be lurking in one of those rooms and waiting to drop us from ambush.”

“Yeah.”

“How much dynamite you have left?”

“Couple a' sticks,” I said.

“Let's toss them and see what develops.”

I drawed one of them out and give it to him. He helt it out while I lit it, and then he went and heaved it all to hell. It flowed right through that open front wall where the last one had blowed it out. We waited a minute, and then we heared the blast. It were a bit muffled on account a' it were actual on the inside a' the house. But it done a lot a' damage. The side wall on our left collapsed with the explosion, and most a' the rest a' the roof fell on in. Whenever the dust settled, we looked for any sign a' life, but we never seen any. I looked at Sly.

“Maybe he went out the back door and tuck his horse and ran off,” I said.

“We won't know till we go over there,” Sly said.

“I ain't anxious to walk in there to what might could be a trap,” I said. While we was standing there a-studying on it, Churkee come out. He had heared what we was a-saying.

“You still got one stick a' that dynamite?” he ast me.

“Yeah.”

“Let me have it.”

I pulled it out and give it to him, wondering what the hell he had in mind. He helt it toward me to light, so I lit it. Then Churkee went to walking over the bridge. He helt that stick out the side as he walked, and he walked right acrost to the other side a' the crick. That fuse was a-sizzling all the way. Then he walked right up the hotel, where the porch had been, and he stepped up and went into the building, or what was left of it. Then he disappeared from view.

In another minute, we seen him come a-running back out like a bat outta hell, and whenever he come to that open space what had used to be a wall, he tuck a headlong dive, and just as he hit the ground a-tumbling, the old hotel blew up, and whenever the blast was a-dying down, so was the old building. There wasn't nothing left over yonder but only a big pile of busted-up boards and stuff. There wasn't no Chugwater to be seen nowhere.