Hell for Leather

Zeke is dreaming. He is back in the war, looking for a friend in the infirmary. All around him ring the cries of the wounded. Behind curtains, legs are being sawn off as men scream in ways he has never heard. There is blood everywhere. There are wounded everywhere. On cots. On the floor. He finds his friend. He has died. At least he’s free from all this, thinks Zeke. All he wants is to be free of it.

Alaine is heartbroken, not afraid.

“Get her on your horse.” Clayton barked to Jeremiah. The big man tied her hands and easily lifted her onto his saddle before situating himself behind her.

“Wait.” said Theodore, “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s dead, Teddy.” Clayton swung his leg over his horse. Alaine watched Theodore react to his brother’s death.

“What?” he looked like he would cry, “How?”

“Zeke shot him. Let’s go.”

“I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” Theodore fought back tears. He looked pathetic to Alaine. The kind of man who takes joy in hurting others but can’t stand any pain himself.

“No,” corrected Clayton, “he’s already dead and if he’s not, he’s coming after us and he will kill you. We’re leaving.” Clayton and Jeremiah turned their horses away and kicked them hard. Theodore, the coward, felt his courage fade away with every second they moved farther from him. He jumped on his horse, sniveling and followed suit.

The three criminals push their steeds to all out sprints. As they rode, Jeremiah groped Alaine’s breasts and whispered promises of future violations in her ear. Alaine could only think about Zeke. If he was in fact dead, she didn’t really care what happened next. She tried to look back but Jeremiah was so big that she couldn’t see around him. She put her mind elsewhere and tried her best to ignore what was happening. She could not say how long they ran. Her eyes stayed closed.

When they finally stopped there were two more men waiting at what appeared to be their camp.

“Thad. Morris. Mount up. We might have trouble.” said Clayton. They both leered at Alaine stared back at them with fire in her eyes.

“This her?” asked Thad as Clayton dismounted and began packing camp.

“We’ll know soon enough for certain. The Englishman is waiting for us. Once he identifies her, we’ll get our money.”

“We better.” sneered Morris, “I’m getting tired of this goose chase.” Morris ambled over to Alaine who looked down on him contemptuously. “What’s your name, little bird? You the one going to make us some money?” With all her strength, Alaine kicked him in the face, causing him to stumble backwards. “You bitch!” Morris yanked her from the saddle and punched her hard in the face. Alaine collapsed to the ground as Morris landed another blow. The pain meant nothing to Alaine. She stared at him without flinching as he wound up for another punch. The sound of Clayton’s pistol being cocked froze him in place.

“Now you listen to me you short stack of shit,” said Clayton, “You hit her again, bruise up her face and cost me my bounty, I’ll kill you outright, do you hear me? In fact, the only reason I’m not turning your head inside out right now is I need every gun and I can get. The meanest son of a bitch you ever set eyes on is heading this way and nothing short of the devil himself is gonna stop him and even then, I’d probably bet against the devil. We need to go.” It took Alaine a moment to realize he was talking about Zeke. He never struck her as mean.

“How tough can this guy be?” sneered Thad.

“The longer we stand here jaw boning, the closer you get to finding out. He’s mean enough that I’m in a mighty big hurry to get clear of here. That a good enough answer for you?” No one said anything. Clayton holstered his weapon, “Good. Now break camp and be quick about it.” The men did as they were told. Alaine sat up and tasted the blood in her mouth. The entire left side of her face hurt but she would die before she let them know that. No matter what, she swore to herself she wouldn’t scream. As soon as they delivered her to Smythe, she would tell him what they did and he would punish them. That is, if Zeke didn’t get to them first. She hoped he would.

“So what do we do now?” asked Thad as they mounted and prepared to leave.

“I want to get rid of this girl and get our money as soon as possible.” answered Clayton, checking his weapons, “We can’t go back the way we came. Chances are too good that Zeke would spot us. We’ll have to head south over Black Hawk Canyon Bridge and then cut back east.”

“Black Hawk bridge?” Morris couldn’t believe it, “Clayton, You’re crazy. That bridge ain’t fit for a man let alone a man on a horse.”

“Then don’t go.” replied Clayton dismissively, “Don’t go and don’t get paid. That’s your choice.” He turned and rode away with Jeremiah and Alaine right behind him. The others followed without much hesitation.

As they rode, Clayton leading the way, he would often stop to check their back trail. Whenever he did so, Alaine would watch his face. After the fourth or fifth time, Clayton returned her gaze.

“What?” he snapped. Alaine only smiled.

“You’re scared.” she observed dryly, “You should be.”

“Not as scared as you should be. Do you know what would happen to you if I turned these jackals loose on you?” For an instance, Alaine’s stare faltered, but then she thought of Zeke.

“Do you know what would happen to you if you did?” She retorted. This clearly unsettled Clayton and he rode on without exchanging another glance with her.

After a long time they came to a halt near the edge of a deep ravine. In both directions as far as Alaine could see, this crack in the earth reached to the horizon. The only way forward appeared to be the most rickety bridge she had ever seen. Its span was about sixty feet and it was made of rope and wood, possibly dating back to the days of Moses. The handhold was a single rope that fell away here and there, leaving nothing between the pedestrian and the bottom of the ravine some fifty feet below. The footpath was very narrow, only about three feet wide. Enough for a man to lead a horse, but that was all.

The posse of miscreants stood silently and stared across the gap to the other side. Morris was the first to speak.

“Who’s going first?” he asked no one in particular.

“You are.” Clayton drew his pistol.

“Horse shit, Clayton.” said Morris without looking at the pistol in Clayton’s hand. Clayton took a step back putting Morris between himself and the bridge. He raised his gun and pointed it at Morris’ back, cocking the hammer as he did so. Morris heard the click.

“You going to shoot a man in the back?” he asked hoping someone would take his side.

“Do you honestly think I won’t?” replied Clayton. Morris knew Clayton well enough not to doubt his cold-bloodedness.

“If I ever get the chance,” he said, “I’m going to kill you, you yellow bastard.”

“If you ever do get the chance,” replied Clayton, “you best make it count. Now get moving.” Morris realized he had no choice. Slowly he moved forward, leading his horse.

When he reached the foot of the bridge, his horse refused to go further, no matter how hard Morris tried to coax him.

“Cover his eyes, you idiot.” chided Clayton. Morris removed his coat and threw it across his horse’s head, covering its eyes. The horse protested at first but quickly became docile. Taking the reins, Morris stepped gingerly onto the first ancient plank. It complained with a loud creak and he could see through the gaps clear down to the bottom. Vertigo threatened to spin him right off the bridge. He swallowed hard and moved slowly forward all the while counting the money he would make and swearing to shoot Clayton as soon as it was in his hands.

The rest of the misfits watched from the safety of terra firma as Morris inched himself and his horse across the crumbling bridge. When he finally reached the other side, they let out a collective sigh, not because he was safe, but because it meant they were. No one asked who was next, having learned their lesson. They were all a bit surprised when Clayton volunteered himself.

“I’ll go next.” he announced to no one’s objection, “Alaine, you’re coming with me.”

“Wait just a cotton pickin’ minute.” said Theodore, “You think we’re dumb enough to let you go on ahead with our payday. As soon as you set foot on the other side, you’ll either shoot Morris or he’ll shoot you and ride away with our bounty.” Clayton stopped and turned to face his accuser.

“I’m hurt, Teddy.” he said, “Not because you think I would betray you. I’m actually a bit proud that I taught you enough to be suspicious. No, I’m hurt that you think I would possibly let an ape like Morris get the drop on me.” They didn’t know how to respond when Clayton said things like that. He scared them, even Jeremiah. They simply gawked at him. “Well what would you propose we do?” He finally asked. Everyone looked at Theodore.

“Well,” he said, “you go. Then Thad. Then me. Then her and Jeremiah can cross together.”

“Fine with me.” said Clayton, throwing a blanket over his horse’s eyes, “As long as I go before Jeremiah. He’s so big, he’s liable to bring this entire antique down.” Clayton turned without another word and struck out across the bridge as jauntily as one would across a meadow. It was this kind of attitude in the face of death that made others frightened of him.

“All right, Teddy.” he called from the other side, “Your call.”

“Okay.” replied Teddy, clearly scared, “I’m coming over.”

“I thought you said Thad was next.” Clayton took great pleasure in ribbing Teddy.

“I changed my mind.” replied Teddy.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you did.” said Clayton to himself.

Slowly Teddy inched towards the bridge. Gingerly, he stepped out over the chasm, afraid to look down. With each step, terror threatened to clamp his legs in its maw and stop him dead in his tracks. Only the fear of Zeke’s wrath drove him on. When he reached the midpoint, he paused to look up and allowed himself a smile. He was going to make it.

From out of nowhere, a single shot rang out and Teddy’s chest exploded as the smile fled from his face. He pitched forward and felt through the rotted planks, plunging to the ground below. His horse, startled as it was by the jerk on its bit, moved forward, lost its footing over the edge of the newly formed gap and followed its master into oblivion.

“Hey Clayton!” hollered Zeke from some concealed position, “Did Teddy look surprised?” Every bandit still breathing dove for cover.

“Zeke!” Clayton was half laughing, half scared to death, “You are, without question, the meanest shot I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Jeremiah and Thad were cowering behind rocks as Alaine stood still.

“Zeke!” she cried, “I’m here!” Jeremiah quickly snatched her down next to him behind the rocks. It pleased her to see them so afraid.

“Stay down.” Jeremiah growled at her.

“Why?” she grinned, “He’s not shooting at me.” The confidence in her eyes made the big Jeremiah well and truly scared.

“Hey Zeke!” hollered Jeremiah, “You stop shooting, you hear? You fire one more shot, and so help me I’ll kill your little lady friend.”

“Jeremiah,” answered Zeke, “you’re the biggest damn target I’ve ever seen. You think I can’t hit you from here?” For a few seconds, there was silence as Jeremiah considered his options. “If you hurt that girl,” continued Zeke, “I’ll kill everything you ever loved in this world.”

Alaine could see how scared Jeremiah was. For a second, she thought he might just turn tail and run away. His love of money however, proved stronger than his lust for life. He drew his pistol and grabbed Alaine by her hair.

“Keep your mouth shut.” he told her, then yelled out, “Zeke! I’m coming out and I got my gun in this girl’s back! If you shoot me, I’ll kill her.” There was no answer. “Do you hear me, Zeke?” Again, no response.

Jeremiah moved out of cover keeping Alaine between himself and the direction he guessed Zeke was. Slowly he backed towards the bridge keeping one hand on his gun and the other gripping Alaine’s hair. Thad was still too scared to move but the sight of his payday being dragged away lit a fire under his ass and he moved quickly to Jeremiah side.

“Get the hell away from me.” snapped Jeremiah. Thad did as he was told and waited for them to enter the bridge before following, all the while keeping his gun out and trained backwards. It was a comical sight, the three of them inching backwards cross the bridge led by Jeremiah with Alaine between them, everyone looking back and still unable to spot Zeke.

“Think about what you’re doing, Jeremiah you dumb son of a bitch!” called Zeke, still invisible, “Once you get her to the other side you are no longer needed.”

“Shut your mouth!” cried Jeremiah, his voice betraying the fear in his throat. Clayton and Morris lay behind cover watching the entire scene unfold and hoping they were safe from Zeke’s guns. The trio was inching ever closer to the gap in the bridge and below them, they could clearly see the results of failure.

The hole was about five feet across and only the rope on either side offered a chance.

“Don’t move.” said Jeremiah before letting go of Alaine so he could grab the rope. She was terrified of heights and latched onto the rope with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut. Jeremiah stretched out one leg and easily spanned the hole, but in order to place his other foot across he would have to put a great deal of strain on the weak looking rope. He took a deep breath and did it quickly. The rope let out a loud groan, but it held. He smiled in triumph.

“All right.” he said, “Now you.” Alaine did not move. “Let’s go!” He yelled but Alaine made no attempt to obey. Thad eased up beside her and put his mouth next to her ear.

“Move your ass,” he hissed, “or I’ll cut your throat and throw you over this bridge.” Alaine could hear the panic in his voice and did not doubt that they would kill her to escape from Zeke. She opened her eyes and inched towards the gaping hole. With her hands wrapped tightly around the rope, she stretched out her foot but she was too short to reach.

“Give me your hands.” ordered Jeremiah, but she refused, due in equal parts to the fact that she found him repulsive and the fact that she was physically unable to let go of the rope. Carefully she brought her foot back. The only other way across was the support rope upon which all the planks rested. With trepidation, she placed her weight on it. It seemed to hold. She slid her foot forward and step out with the other. Now she was entirely dependent on the ropes. Slowly, she shuffled her feet another few inches.

Just as she neared the other side, her foot slipped from the rope. Suddenly her balance pitch backwards and her hands came off the rope, flailing above her head. In that instance, she knew she would die. She would fall to the bottom of the ravine and be dashed upon the rocks. Her last thoughts would be of Zeke. That kiss. Their only kiss. Images of it filled her mind.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a gloved hand reaching out ever so slowly towards her, the blue sky in the background. She felt the hand clamp down around her wrist. It was Jeremiah, easily yanking her safety. For a fleeting moment, she was grateful, then she remembered who he was.

“Hot damn!” sighed Thad, “That was close.” Jeremiah made no reply and did not relinquish Alaine’s wrist but led her quickly across the rest of the bridge. Thad crossed the gap quickly and followed close behind them.

When they reached the other side, the two outlaws joined their compatriots in cover behind the rocks, dragging Alaine with them. For a minute, no one said anything.

“Now what?” Thad finally asked of no one in particular. They were pinned down and there were only two horses. If they moved from cover, Zeke could easily pick them off.

A single shot rang out and suddenly only one horse was left standing.

“Goddammit!” hollered Clayton, “Stop shooting my horses, Zeke!” Terror swept through the gaggle of miscreants.

“He’s going to kill us.” wailed Morris.

“Shut up.” snapped Jeremiah.

“All right,” said Clayton, “we need to buy ourselves some time.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Thad wanted to know.

“We’ll set the bridge on fire.” answered Clayton removing his flint from one of his pouches. Quickly he fashioned a makeshift torch and lit it. The dried timber blazed furiously. Clayton handed it to Morris. “Here. Take it. Throw it on the bridge.” Morris refused to take the torch.

“Hell no.” he said, “I ain’t going out there.” Calmly, Clayton drew his pistol and put it to Morris’s head.

“Take this.” he repeated slowly, “Throw it on the bridge.” Morris glanced at Thad and Jeremiah. They would be no help. They were just glad it wasn’t them. Reluctantly, he accepted the flame.

“Run zigzag.” advised Clayton. Morris was dubious but had little choice. The ground between their cover and the bridge was about fifteen feet and there was little to hide behind. “Go on.” snapped Clayton, “We ain’t got all day.”

Morris cursed under his breath and gathered what little courage he had. Quickly he darted from behind the rocks and ran in a zigzag pattern. As he neared the bridge, he brought his arm up to throw the torch. As he did, another shot rang out and hit him in the shoulder. The momentum of his throw carried his hand forward and the torch sailed forth and landed in the middle of the planks about twenty feet away from the foot of the bridge. The wood welcomed the flames like an old friend and soon the bridge was burning in earnest. The smoke offered some cover and as they moved out, they could see Zeke on the other side.

“Sorry Zeke!” hollered Clayton, “You lose this one, but don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your lady.”

“If any of you sons of bitches touches her,” roared Zeke, “I will personally drag you into Hell and nail your soul to the gates!”