royannahuggins
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 | | Incident at Hanging Lake Part 1 by moonshadow | |
STARRING
Pete Duel as Hannibal Heyes
Ben Murphy as Jed “Kid” Curry
GUEST STARRING
POSSE MEMBERS:
Chill Wills as Sheriff Maynard Griffin
Monty Laird as Deputy Charlie Decker
Smith Ballew as Joe
Denver Pyle as Bart
Wayne Morris as Micah
GANG MEMBERS:
Richard Madden as John – Gang Leader
Hank Worden as Sam
Ethan Laidlaw as Jack
Matt Clark as Earl
Russel Johnson as Tucker
Richard Thomas as Riley Incident at Hanging Lake - Part 1
by moonshadow Hannibal Heyes leaned in closer to his horse's neck, turned his head and glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes connected with those of the other rider and the men shared a look of mutual desperation. Heyes motioned for his partner to catch up.
Jed “Kid” Curry urged his horse to a faster pace and brought his mount alongside of Heyes, close enough to be heard over the sound of pounding hooves. “You got any kinda plan yet?” he shouted.
Heyes ran his tongue over dry, cracked lips before he shook his head. “No!”
“These horses are done in – an' so are we!”
Heyes nodded.
“That posse's gainin' on us!”
Another affirmative nod. “I know!”
Curry crouched down lower as a bullet whizzed over his shoulder. “Too close!”
Heyes nodded in agreement and, as the two men rounded a curve in the road, he spied an old dirt path, almost hidden from view, to their left. Pointing to it, the duo veered off the main road, their mounts' hooves pounding into the dirt. After ducking low-hanging tree branches and navigating several twists and turns, salvation appeared in the form of an old building. Reining in their horses at the edge of the stream, the two men looked at each other.
“It's not much,” Heyes shrugged. “We can cut across this stream, hole up inside for a while and hope the posse didn't see where we cut off the main road.”
Curry turned to eye the shack. “Think it's empty?”
“It looks deserted – and right now we don't have much of a choice!” Heyes answered tersely. “Let's get across this stream and take a closer look.”
The horses splashed through the shallow water, taking their riders to the front of the old building.
“It's not the Silver Palace, but it'll do,” Heyes stated, then dismounted and threw the reins in his partner's direction. “I'll meet you inside!”
Curry nodded and took the animals around to the back of the building and hid them behind some trees. After he had secured the horses' reins to the nearest tree branch, he turned around and took a few running steps, then stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open as he stared at the building; his shoulders drooped in despair. “Why can't we ever get a break?!” he groaned. That statement was quickly followed by, “Sure hope Heyes has a plan B!” as he raced towards the front of the cabin.
In the meantime, Heyes had sprinted up the two stairs that led to the porch, shoved the door open and stepped inside. He looked towards the back of the room for the Kid but, to his surprise, the cabin was empty. His eyes scanned the back wall and his head dropped to his chest.
The sound of thudding boots and the shadow that fell over Heyes as he stood in the open doorway with the doorknob still gripped tight in his hand, announced his partner's arrival. He turned to face Curry.
“Kid -”
“Heyes -”
“... we've got a problem!” they finished together.
“Yeah, a big one!” Heyes continued. “But we don't have time to worry about that right now, let's get that door secured first.” While the Kid lowered the board in place across the door, Heyes turned to do a more detailed survey of the rest of the cabin. “Not much,” he announced, his tone resigned, “but it'll have to do.”
Before Curry could comment, the sound of thundering hooves interrupted him, signaling the arrival of the posse.
“Sure didn't take 'em long to find us,” the Kid muttered as he drew his gun. “I was hopin' we'd lost 'em!” he added as he checked the chambers and took a stance by the nearest of the two windows.
“I was hoping we'd be able to escape out the back door!” Heyes countered and positioned himself by the other window. “At least that would've split the posse up some!” A bullet broke through the window pane to whiz past him and Heyes took a hasty step backward. He glanced in Curry's direction. When his partner looked up, Heyes shrugged. “We've been in worse scrapes than this before, you know.”
“I'm only worried 'bout the scrape we're in right here 'n now!” the Kid retorted and turned back to scan the outside again. “How many'd you count?”
“Pretty sure there were only five, but I might've missed one.”
Curry dared another look out his window and counted in silence. “I only see three.”
“The other two are probably scouting out the back. Won't take 'em long; they'll see the same thing you did and join the others out front pronto.”
Interrupted by another barrage of bullets, the two ex-outlaws were kept busy exchanging gunfire with the posse.
*~*~*~*~*~*
A FEW MINUTES EARLIER, OUTSIDE WITH THE POSSE
“We've got 'em now, boys; right where we want 'em!” Sheriff Maynard Griffin chortled and turned in the direction of his deputy. “Charlie, why dontcha take Joe and the two of you go 'round to the rear. Cover that in case they try to sneak out the back way.”
The deputy nodded and the two men began to edge away, taking care to stay low and behind cover.
The lawman turned back to the two remaining posse members. “I want the two of you to find a good place to hunker down – and stay there! You best keep in mind that's Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry inside that cabin and they mean business! They're feeling pretty desperate right about now, so you just stay behind your cover and keep drawing their fire. We'll wait until they're outta ammunition and then we'll all rush in and nab 'em.” He eyed each man sternly in turn before he spoke again. “Bart, Micah – you get my drift? I don't want anyone getting themselves killed trying to be some kinda hero.”
“Yes,” the men chorused and nodded.
The deputy and Joe returned almost immediately.
“You're not gonna believe our luck, Sheriff! Heyes 'n Curry sure won't be escaping out the back way!” Charlie chortled. “Nosiree, not 'less'n they can break it down from the inside. There's no door, not even a window back there; just another wall and it's made of solid rock.”
“Good,” the lawman gave a nod of satisfaction. “That makes our job even easier. It's five to two; I think those are pretty good odds, dontcha agree fellas? Let's get this over and done with so we can get back home to Little Bend, our families and a nice warm supper.” He took his place and raised his weapon. “Those two have no idea just who they're tangling with, but they're sure enough about to find out!”
*~*~*~*~*~*
BACK INSIDE THE CABIN
“I need to reload!” Heyes called out tersely. “Cover me.”
Curry nodded and fired a shot. Craning his neck forward, he chanced another look outside and counted the men he could see in silence. “I think you're right; I only count five. You know what they're gonna do, dontcha?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued. “They're gonna wait until we're all outta bullets or when it gets dark – whichever comes first – an' then they're gonna rush us.”
“You're right on all counts,” Heyes agreed grimly. He snapped the gun chamber shut and looked up. “Okay,” he announced and took his place again.
“My turn.” Curry took even less time than Heyes had and was back to his spot and ready to shoot within moments and peered out the edge of his window. “All five of 'em are out front now. You know what that means? It means that they know that we know that they know that this is the only way outta here.”
Heyes favored his partner with an eyeroll.
“You come up with that plan yet?”
“I'm working on one.”
“Work harder!” “'Cos we won't be able to hold 'em off for too much longer – we'll be outta ammunition soon!”
“It works both ways,” Heyes shrugged. “So will they.”
“Well, I'm hopin' they run out first!” Curry countered. Just then, a bullet splintered through the wooden sill. He drew back sharply and flattened himself against the wall as another one whizzed past him. “Sheesh!” he muttered as it ricocheted off the cast iron stove in the corner. “That was way too close!”
“To save on ammo, we're gonna have to keep taking turns. If one of us is firing at all times they won't try to storm the cabin; might buy us a bit more time, if we're lucky.”
“Wouldn't say luck's been on our side lately,” the Kid groused.
Their attention focused on keeping the posse busy and at bay, reloading their weapons and avoiding bullets, conversation became sparse.
“I'm outta bullets,” Heyes announced a short time later. “Think I'll head on back by that stove to reload; it's too dangerous up here.”
“Think on comin' up with a plan while you're back there, okay?”
His expression grim, Heyes crouched down low as he made his way to the stove. When the ex-outlaw neared the middle of the room, he came to a sudden stop and looked down. Backing up a couple steps, he cocked his head to listen and then stomped his foot a few times. Kneeling down, he brushed at the floor with his hands and uncovered a square of wood that was cut out from the rest of the floor. Quickly pushing away more dirt, Heyes' mouth turned up in a grin. “Someone sure did some pretty clever camouflaging work here,” he commented under his breath. “If I wasn't looking for it, I'd never know it was here.” Using his pocketknife, he lifted the wood plank and pushed it aside.
“Hey, Kid!” he called out. “Our luck is changing – look what I found!”
Curry turned enough to look back over his shoulder and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw the hole.
“You're either a genius or a gopher, Heyes! Does it go anywhere? Or is it jus' a hidey hole?”
“Don't know – yet.” Heyes dropped to his belly, stuck his head down further and peered into the hole. “Looks like there's a tunnel, alright. It leads somewhere; might even be a way to lose that posse. You okay while I check it out?”
“If you take my spot long enough to let me reload again, I'll keep 'em real busy.”
“Give me a minute,” Heyes replied, his expression chagrined as he exited the hole. “I still need to load my gun.”
Curry rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Hey!” Heyes protested. “I found the tunnel, didn't I?”
Curry turned away without answering and fired his last shot. “At least they're not comin' any closer or tryin' to storm the shack yet.”
“That's the spirit, Kid!” Heyes grinned and took up his position by the other window. “Okay, let's hope this is the last time we have to do this and that tunnel is our ticket outta here.”
“Think I'll do more'n hope, if you don't mind,” Curry muttered as he crouched down and backed into the corner to put bullets into the chambers. Spinning the chamber, he looked at his partner. “Done. Go ahead... an' good luck.”
“Luck's for people who don't have a plan,” Heyes quipped and dropped to a sitting position.
The Kid watched Heyes just long enough to see him disappear down into the hole before he turned back to fire a shot. It was answered with fire from all five posse members. When the glass of a lower window pane shattered, Curry jumped back and flattened himself against the wall. As the gunfire continued, he ducked down low to make his way over to Heyes' window. Putting his gun barrel through one of the holes, he fired a shot at one of the posse members who was in the process of changing position. Curry grinned when the man threw himself on the ground, swearing profusely.
“That'll teach you,” he chuckled as he crossed back over to the other window. “Should've stayed where you were.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Meanwhile, inside the narrow tunnel, Heyes had reached the end and encountered another board. Grunting with the effort, he pushed hard with both hands on the wooden panel, dislodging the mound of dirt that covered it and cautiously poked his head up high enough to look around. A look of satisfaction appeared on his face when no shots were fired at him. With no way to turn around in the confined space, Heyes was forced to crawl backwards on his belly until he was back inside the shack. Once there, he could stand up again.
“We're in luck, Kid,” he called out. “The tunnel opens out by the back wall and there's not a sign of that posse anywhere.”
Curry glanced back at the wall, then shrugged. “Guess they figured there's no point; no door or windows to worry 'bout.”
“Looks that way.”
“The horses still tied up back there?”
Heyes nodded. “Ready and waiting; all we have to do is get to them before the posse figures out that we're gone.”
“How're we gonna do that? Once we're both in that tunnel an' no one's firin' back, they'll think we're outta ammunition an' rush the cabin.”
Heyes gave the room a thorough perusal. His eyes lit on the stove and he grinned. “They'll never know, Kid. Keep 'em busy for a bit longer,” he added and knelt down beside the stove. Picking up pieces of kindling, he began to stoke the inside of the cast iron's belly. Taking a match from the box on the shelf, he held it to the kindling until it caught and the flames began to lick at the small pieces of wood.
Curry fired a couple more shots before he turned around to stare at his partner. “What're you doin'?” he snapped in consternation. “We don't have time to be playin' 'round with fires – I thought you were workin' on a way to get us outta here without the posse knowin'!”
“I am. This here is a special stove; it shoots bullets.”
Curry frowned and arched his brow. “You sure you didn't hit your head while you were crawlin' 'round down there in that tunnel?”
Heyes grinned. “Trust me.”
“Hmph,” Curry snorted. “I'll believe it when I see it!” His furrow deepened as he ducked down and crossed the room to the other window.
Heyes added a few thicker pieces of wood to the pile and blew hard, to help fan the flames.
“You 'bout done?” Curry asked without turning around. “After this one I'm outta bullets again.”
Heyes rose to his feet and switched places with his partner. “Go ahead.”
As Curry edged his way backwards towards the stove, he eyed it in silence and loaded the chambers. “Okay, ready when you are.”
“Two left; after that, we're gonna get outta here!” Heyes turned and gave the Kid a wink. After the second bullet was fired, he looked over his shoulder and gave his partner a nod.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Sheriff Griffin stopped firing and held a hand up to his eyes as he squinted at the roof of the shack in surprise. “Is that smoke I see coming outta that chimney?”
“Sure 'nough looks like it, don't it?” Charlie answered. “For a couple of wanted men with bounties on their heads, they're sure makin' themselves right comfortable!”
“Not for long, they're not!” Griffin snapped.
“Whaddya think they're building a fire for?” Micah pondered aloud.
Bart turned away from watching the smoke. “Yeah, whatcha think they're up to, Sheriff?”
Griffin frowned and fingered his chin. “I'm not sure, but whatever it is, we'd better be prepared for anything, boys; stay sharp!”
*~*~*~*~*~*
“Okay, Kid, I'm ready, let's switch.”
The two men traded places.
After firing a shot, Curry looked over his shoulder. “Now would be a good time to let me in on that plan of yours!”
“It's really very simple. Once I go down into the tunnel, you give me a few minutes to get to the end and then it's your turn.”
When the next bullet from the posse shattered another pane of glass closest to the place where he stood, Curry flattened himself and turned sideways to look at his partner. “So jus' when is that stove s'posed to start shootin' bullets?” he asked before he turned back to fire a shot.
“Listen up,” Heyes began. “Just before you drop down...” As he continued to walk towards the hole, he outlined the final details to his partner.
“That oughta keep 'em busy long enough for us to make our escape for sure,” Curry grinned. He crossed to the other window and stuck his gun through the broken pane and fired again.
Heyes nodded and lowered himself down into the hole. “See you in a few minutes, Kid. Don't wait around too long,” he cautioned before he disappeared from sight.
The ex-outlaw checked his gun and muttered aloud, “There's not enough time to reload again; I've only got two more bullets left, an' I've gotta give Heyes time enough to reach the end of the tunnel before I follow him. Here's one...” he said as he fired and then dashed back across the room to his window. He counted out six bullets and palmed them before he aimed and fired the last shot. “An' that's two!”
Curry bent down low and crossed back to the table. Next, he dragged it across the room and then pushed it over the hole, positioning it directly over the entrance to the tunnel. He took a deep breath and lowered himself down into the hole. Just before he ducked down, he followed Heyes' instructions and then quickly grabbed the wooden board to cover the hole. “Hopefully this is good-bye, fellas!”
As the Kid hunched down, he let the board fall into place, dropped down to his knees and began to make his way down the dark, damp and narrow tunnel, crawling along the moist earth on his belly. He could see a faint light up ahead and a short time later, he poked his head out. The first thing he saw was his partner sitting astride his horse, frowning and holding the reins to Curry's mount. “Heyes, you are a genius!”
“What took you so long?” Heyes' frown quickly transformed into a grin.
“I had a hungry mouth to feed!” the Kid quipped. He grabbed the reins and climbed up and into the saddle.
“How many bullets did you use?”
“Six,” Curry answered. “Let's get outta here before the fireworks begin!”
The pair took off, heading towards a large rock formation that would provide much-needed cover when the posse finally discovered their duplicity.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The men continued to fire at the shack for several minutes before Sheriff Griffin held up a hand to signal for silence. He fired a shot and waited, but when nothing happened, he turned to address the group.
“Looks like maybe they could be outta ammunition, men, but jus' to be sure, let's play it safe and spread out. Keep on your toes; they're a wily pair.”
Keeping low to the ground and using whatever shelter they found along the way, the men began to advance their way slowly towards the cabin.
The lawman's voice rang out again, issuing orders. “Okay men, when we're all in position –” A single gunshot cut the sheriff off in midstream.
All the posse members dove for cover. Two more shots were fired, spaced about a minute apart, followed by a third and a fourth in quick succession.
Griffin cautiously raised his head from his position on the ground and glanced around. “Everybody okay?” he called out.
Four voices answered, assuring him that they had not suffered any casualties.
As the sheriff got to his knees, another shot was fired. The lawman flattened himself, sucking in dust. After waiting a few minutes, Griffin dared to lift his head. When silence still prevailed, he got to his knees, then rocked back on his heels. All was quiet. The lawman got to his feet and raised his voice to be heard. “You there, in the cabin – Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry – we've got you surrounded and there's no other way out, so you might as well surrender! You're outnumbered two to one and we've got three times more ammunition than you do! We can outlast you and we've got no problem waiting to prove it!
“You're wanted dead or alive,” Griffin continued, “so we can do this the easy way, with you sitting upright on your horses, or you can force us to do it the hard way and you'll be riding into town stretched out across your horse's back. If you choose the hard way, we'll be delivering your bodies to the undertaker. It's your choice, so what's it gonna be?”
Silence followed his ultimatum.
“Alright, don't say I didn't warn you or give you a fair chance...” The sheriff shrugged and motioned for the men to start moving forward again. “Fan out, fellas, and stay close to whatever cover you can find, just in case they try something stupid.”
Following his orders, the men took turns edging their way slowly towards the shack, guns drawn and their expressions unrelenting. As the first two men reached the porch, they flattened themselves against the wall, one on each side of the door. The deputy looked at the sheriff, waiting for the signal to break down the door.
Griffin nodded. He and the two remaining posse members rushed forward to follow the deputy and the other man as they burst into the cabin, splintering the wood and knocking the door off its hinges.
After only a few steps inside, everyone came to a sudden halt. The whole posse stood stock-still at the sight that met their eyes: a completely empty room with a nice, cheery fire burning in the pot-bellied stove.
Four heads swiveled in the lawman's direction for answers.
Griffin looked around, his eyes scanning the shack. “There's no place to hide in here; no cubbyholes, no closets, not even a box or crate to duck behind.” He traversed the room to stand by the stove. Picking up a stick, he poked around inside and discovered the bullet casings.
“Well, at least that explains the last round of shots we heard, but...” He took another look around and scratched his head. “I don't know how they did it, but they're sure as the dickens not here!” the lawman snapped. He pivoted about, kicked at an overturned chair and strode away, his anger evidenced in every step.
Behind him, the other posse members looked at one another and shrugged.
“Guess we ain't gonna get none of that amnesty money now,” Bart grumbled.
“Yeah, an' the bad thing is we can't even explain to folks how we lost it,” Micah added morosely. “Least not if we don't wanna get laughed right outta town.”
They slowly turned towards the door to trail behind in the wake of the sheriff and joined him outside.
The lawman shaded his eyes and looked around. “No use trying to catch up to 'em now, it'll be dark soon and they've got too much of a head start on us. Sorry, men; we might as well mount up and get on outta here.”
As the posse turned their horses towards home, Charlie took one last look at the shack, shook his head, then muttered under his breath, “If that don't beat all...”
*~*~*~*~*~*
A DAY'S RIDE LATER...
Saddle sore and road-weary, the exhausted pair stumbled upon a place that looked like it might offer shelter.
“Whaddya think, Heyes? I say it's time for some rest and relaxation; we've earned it.”
“I say it looks perfect. I'm tired of sitting in this saddle and our animals are stove-in. We haven't seen one sign of any lawmen, a bounty hunter or a posse, not even a dust cloud.” Heyes dismounted slowly, arching his back to get the kinks out.
“Sure feels good not to havta worry 'bout anyone chasin' us down for that bounty.”
Heyes looked around. “This place is so far off the beaten track we don't have to worry about any of those things. Let's get these horses unsaddled and watered so we can stake them and they can have a well-deserved rest, too.”
Once the horses were tended to, Heyes and the Kid emptied their saddlebags and set up camp.
In the process of getting the fire started, Heyes turned to watch his partner gather firewood. “You know what, Kid? This is the first time in months that we've set up a camp that we have no intentions of taking down right away. It's a real nice feeling for a change.”
Curry stopped for a moment to ponder Heyes' words. “It'll feel even better when I can get down to that river an' scrub off a few inches of this trail dust that's stuck to my skin.”
“You've got the right idea, Kid. Once this fire gets going, we'll get washed up and then fix a nice hot supper to fill up our bellies.”
“I like the way you think, Heyes,” Curry grinned. “After eatin' jerky an' canteen water on the run these last few days, I'm ready for some real food. Think I'll see if I can catch us a sage hen or two for supper.”
“Sounds fine to me. C'mon, let's head on down to that river. The sooner we get washed up, the sooner you can get started hunting down those hens. I don't know 'bout you, but I'm all for an early night. We haven't had a decent night's rest for so long, I'm not sure I remember what real sleep is anymore.” Heyes picked up his saddle blanket, a bar of soap and his razor.
“I'll be lucky if I stay awake through dinner,” Curry's response ended in a yawn. He grabbed his saddle blanket and lead the way down to the river. Halfway down the trail he stopped suddenly.
Heyes skidded to a halt behind the Kid, just short of slamming into Curry's back. “What'd you that for?” he grumbled, backing up a step.
Curry turned and held a finger up to his lips. “Shh...”
Heyes bit back any further questions and looked around warily. A full minute lapsed before he whispered, “What're we listening for?”
“I dunno,” the Kid shrugged. “I'm not sure; maybe nothin'. I jus' got the feelin' that we were bein' watched.”
“And do you still have that feeling?”
Blue eyes met brown as Curry rubbed the back of his neck. “No, guess maybe I'm jus' plumb wore out an' imaginin' things.”
“Well, you pay attention to that feeling if it happens again,” Heyes cautioned. “You be sure and let me know; it won't be the first time that feeling's saved our hides.”
“I'll let you know,” the Kid promised.
The men washed up and, true to his word, Kid Curry's skillful hunting provided two plump sage hens to roast on a spit over the fire. Their bellies full, the two weary men bedded down and were fast asleep within minutes.
*~*~*~*~*~*
MID-MORNING, TWO DAYS LATER...
The pair were stretched out on their blankets, relaxed and dozing in the shade of the trees.
Heyes stirred, then yawned, opened his eyes and glanced over at his partner. “Well Kid, we've played cards, fished to our heart's content and hunted enough food to last us for the next few days. You've not only cleaned your gun, but mine as well. I don't think our weapons have ever been in such prime condition. I don't know about you, but I'm about as relaxed as a man can get.”
“I know what you mean,” Curry murmured. He opened his eyes and sat up. Although nice, the peace and quiet was beginning to wear a tad thin for him. He decided to broach the subject of moving on to his partner and see what happened.
Heyes' eyes followed the Kid as he stood up and crossed over to a mirror propped up in the crook of the tree trunk. Satisfied that his friend would be occupied with shaving for a while, he picked up the book that had fallen on the blanket next to him and began to read.
Razor in hand, Curry tilted his head to the side and examined it with a critical expression. “Next time we're in town, I think I'd better pay a visit to the barber. My hair's beginnin' to look a bit long, don't you think?”
A noncommittal grunt from Heyes was the Kid's only answer.
Curry sighed with resignation and returned to shaving. “I might as well be alone...”
No comment from Heyes.
Curry angled the mirror so he could see Heyes' recumbent figure behind him. “The least you could do is say a word once in a while,” he grumbled. “That way I'd know you still knew how to speak.”
Silence.
“You know,” Curry persisted, “I've heard tell of people losin' their voice for good if they don't use it every now an' then.”
A derisive huff from the ex-leader of The Devil's Hole Gang ended the Kid's attempts at generating conversation and he finished shaving in frustrated silence. Putting his belongings away, he stared around at the campsite for a few moments before he took a seat on his blanket and laid back to rest his head on his saddle. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of another way to get answers out of his cousin. “For two cents I'd walk over to Heyes and take that book right outta his hands!” he mumbled under his breath and grinned. A smile still on his face, the Kid dozed off.
*~*~*~*~*~*
A SHORT TIME LATER...
Curry opened one eye, his nostrils having alerted him to the tantalizing smell of meat roasting over the fire.
“I thought that might convince you to wake up,” Heyes teased.
“Sure did.” Curry stretched lazily as he sat up. “Definitely one of your better plans. How long before it's ready?”
“About thirty minutes; why?”
“I thought I'd go down to the creek and wash up a bit.”
“You've got plenty of time. Why don't you take the canteens and the coffee pot and fill 'em up while your down there?” Heyes picked up the pot and dumped the old grounds into the fire.
The Kid crossed the distance that separated them and took the pot from Heyes. He glanced around for the canteens and spied them hanging on a nearby branch. After gathering them up, he headed down towards the water. Once there, he rinsed out the coffee pot and filled it with clean water, then did the same with the two canteens.
Pulling his bandana free from his neck, he dipped it into the water, squeezed out the excess and wiped his face and neck. “Brr,” he shuddered. “Nothin' like cold creek water to wake a fella up.” Just then, a twig snapped behind him, followed by the sound of footsteps. The Kid glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey –” he began, but never finished because something hit him hard on the back of his head and the world abruptly faded to black.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Heyes glanced up at the sun's position again. “Wonder what's keeping him? Guess I'd better go find out; maybe he's fallen asleep again?” he grinned. His smile disappeared abruptly when he reached the river. Sitting next to the water's edge were both canteens and the filled coffee pot, but there was no sign of the Kid. Heyes scanned the surrounding area, but didn't see any clues that might help figure out where his partner was. He squatted down by the water's edge. There were the impressions in the dirt where Curry had knelt to fill the canteens and coffee pot. As his eyes scanned further to the left, he saw something that caused a lump of fear to rise in his chest. He leaned closer and touched a finger to a leaf dotted with red.
“That's fresh blood!” Heyes gulped, staring at his finger. He inched his hand back and loosened the hammer thong from his gun and pulled it from his holster. He jumped to his feet, his eyes darting in every direction as he searched for his missing partner. “What happened here - where are you, Kid!?” He glanced down again and this time he saw drag marks on the ground, as well as boot prints near them. “Whatever happened, you weren't alone!” he muttered, his tone grim. “Guess you really did hear someone.” Heyes followed the tracks for about a hundred yards before he came to a place where the drag marks stopped and the prints of a horse appeared. “Whoever you are, you're sure making this easy,” the ex-outlaw smirked.
A moment later he came to a standstill, his brow furrowed. “Okay, so I didn't give you enough credit.” Arms akimbo on his hips, Heyes stared off into the distance in the direction where the tracks had taken him before they disappeared. “Don't worry, Kid; hang in there, I am going to find you!” Heyes grabbed the canteens and coffee pot, returned to camp and started breaking their campsite down, thinking aloud as he did so.
“Now why would someone take you? What could their motive be? The reward? If so, why didn't they take me too?” Heyes sighed in exasperation. “It just doesn't make any sense!” When he got to Curry's bedroll, he groaned. “Aw, Kid, you didn't stand a chance! You couldn't even try to fight your way outta it without your gun, could you?”
Heyes picked up the gunbelt, saddled the two horses and, leading Curry's animal, rode to the spot where he lost the tracks. “We'll start here and see if we can pick up the Kid's trail.” He dismounted and patted the Kid's horse's neck. “He's counting on us, boy; we can't let him down.” Heyes started walking forward slowly, his eyes scanning the ground, searching for any sign that would point him in the right direction.
An hour later, having pretty much exhausted all possible routes the kidnapper might have taken, Heyes wiped the sweat from his brow and stopped for a drink. After swallowing the tepid water, Heyes returned the canteen to his saddle horn. “There have to be some tracks somewhere!” he snapped. “They certainly didn't fly away and they couldn't have just disappeared into thin air!” He closed his eyes and leaned against his horse. “I'm not gonna give up, Kid!” Heyes whispered. A moment later he opened his eyes and glanced downward. That's when he saw the hoof prints.
“Bet you didn't think I'd be able to track you, did you mister, whoever you are?” A look of grim determination on his face, Heyes mounted his horse and turned him in the direction of the tracks, Curry's horse following close behind. “I'm coming, Kid; don't give up on me!” Hearing the deep, rumbling sound of thunder, he glanced up at the sky and scowled. Off in the distance, in the direction he was heading, he could see lightning and black storm clouds. “Great!” he snapped. “Just what I need – a rainstorm!”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Curry's eyes fluttered open. “I can't see – why's it so dark?” he mumbled, then tentatively called out, “Heyes?” but received no answer. Although he looked all around, there was only darkness. He tried to sit up. “Ow!” he cried and winced in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut when his head throbbed in protest and shot waves of liquid fire throughout his body. As he became more fully awake, he opened his eyes again. Slowly they began to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him. “I think there's somethin' way down there,” he mumbled.
“At least I think maybe I see somethin'...” He strained his ears to listen. “Voices?” he ventured doubtfully and tried to move his hands and arms, but to no avail. He had no better luck with his legs. “Why am I all trussed up like a daggone Thanksgiving turkey?” His hands were tied behind his back with ropes that bit into his skin and his feet were bound together with bonds just as tight.
“Wherever I am, it sure is cold!” He shivered violently. “Why am I all soakin' wet?” he pondered aloud. “Now how in the heck did that happen? Last thing I remember, I was fillin' up the canteens an' the coffee pot down by the river... The river!” He frowned in concentration as he tried to recall what happened after that. “Maybe I fell in?” he mused. “Lost my footin' an' fell in?” Curry's brow furrowed in thought. “No... I remember hearin' Heyes behind me...an' then...” His head throbbed even harder with the effort. “Then... somethin' hit my head hard.” He paused. “That's all I remember.”
He tried to force his eyes to focus on his surroundings, but it didn't help; the darkness could not be penetrated. He cocked his head to listen again. “I can hear the sound of water nearby.” He took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “It smells damp and musty in here... kinda like a cave. What am I doin' in a cave? How'd I get here?” As a wave of nausea and fatigue washed over him, Curry's eyelids drooped to shutter his eyes. Before he succumbed, he whispered his last lucid inquiry, “An' where's Heyes?”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Heyes was busy tracking his partner, although his quarry was making it extremely difficult to accomplish his task. Chagrined, he voiced his frustrations aloud. “Whoever the kidnapper is, he's skilled enough to use evasive tactics. He's even managed to trick me into pursuing a false trail a few times, but not this time, you don't!” he growled as he quickly discovered his error and righted the matter. Heyes glanced up at the sky again. “At least there's one thing in my favor: that thunderstorm veered off in the other direction just enough to let me keep dry. It's a good thing it did too, since it would've wiped out all the tracks.” After several more miles of following the trail, Heyes found himself standing at the edge of a lake, staring at the water.
“There's no way I made a mistake – not this time – I'm positive I followed the trail right, but there's no possible way they could've just walked into the lake!” he snapped in vexation. He got off his horse to squat down and examine the tracks more closely. “It can't be – but it is!” he muttered as he eyed the tracks. “They do come straight here!” Heyes rose to his feet, his eyes widening in disbelief as they made out footprints that were underwater on the muddy river bank. “It just can't be!” he repeated, hands on hips.
“Sure it can,” a voice behind him answered.
Heyes whipped around to find himself facing a stranger with a gun pointed at him. Curiosity won out over alarm. “How?”
“I'll be happy to show you, Mr. Heyes. Raise those hands nice and high.”
Heyes swallowed, his poker face firmly in place as he followed the stranger's order. “I think you've made a mistake, mister –?”
“You can call me John... John Smith.”
“Smith?” Heyes repeated. “Huh, what a coincidence; my name happens to be Smith, too. Joshua Smith.”
“Nope,” John gave a decisive shake of his head. “You're Hannibal Heyes.”
“I'll admit I've been mistaken in the past for that safe-cracking outlaw, but –”
“No buts about it, Heyes; I know who you are and you know who you are. Now, we can either stand around all day wasting time jawin' about who you are or I can show you how and why those footprints make sense; it's your choice.”
Heyes eyed the stranger in silence a moment before he answered. “Will my friend, Thaddeus, be wherever you're taking me?”
“Thaddeus, eh?” John chuckled and shook his head. “Don't know anyone by that name, but there's a fella that answers to the name of Kid Curry who's waiting on you to join him. However, if you want to keep on insisting you're not Hannibal Heyes,” he shrugged, “then there's no reason for me to take you anywhere. It's your call.”
Knowing when he was beat, Heyes folded with a resigned sigh. “Okay, you win. Take me to my partner.”
“First things first; take off your gunbelt and toss it over there.” John pointed to the left. “And if you're of a mind to try anything stupid, it might interest you to know that we're not alone out here. There's a man standing guard, hidden over yonder in those trees.” He gestured with his head to show which direction.
Heyes glanced over his shoulder to where John had indicated, but couldn't see anyone. “Before I do as you say, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
John cocked his head to study Heyes, then nodded. “Go ahead.”
“You're not from around here, are you?”
A slight grin on his face, John asked a question of his own. “What makes you say that?”
“Your accent. I'm guessing Scotland?”
“You'd be guessing right. If you're all done asking questions, we're burning daylight. Now, this next part might seem a bit strange, Heyes, but just do as I tell you to and you'll be reunited with Curry quicker'n you can say Mississippi.”
“I doubt that,” Heyes retorted sarcastically, “but I'll do what you say.”
“You're gonna strip down to your drawers – ”
“I'm gonna what?!” Heyes' brow shot up into his hairline. “Are you loco?”
“Told you it'd sound strange,” John shrugged. “Sooner you do it, the sooner you'll see Curry.”
His expression skeptical, nevertheless Heyes began to peel off his clothing until he was standing in his long underwear. His discarded clothing lay in a pile on the ground.
“Your boots and socks, too.” John gestured with his gun.
First the left boot hit the ground, followed by the right one. Next, Heyes pulled off his socks and tucked them inside the boots. “There,” he snapped and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Just relax. I'm going to tie up your hands, and then we'll go see your partner. Hold your arms out straight in front of you and, remember, don't try anything stupid.”
Heyes thrust his arms forward and suffered them being tied tight with only a wince.
Once John had accomplished that task, he gave one more order. “Sit over there on the ground.” He motioned to a spot in the grass a few yards away.
Throwing his captor a look of contempt, Heyes stalked barefoot over to where the man had indicated, sat cross-legged on the ground and glared at him. His eyes widened in surprise when John began to remove his clothing. As he continued to watch the man with a shrewd expression, Heyes' mind was working feverishly to put the pieces together. “Aren't you afraid somebody will steal our things?” he ventured at last.
“No; like I said, we've got a man who stands guard. Nobody's ever bothered our belongings in all the time we've been here. Just to make it a bit less awkward with you sitting there watching me undress, I'll ask you a question to kill a little time. Do you have any idea what the name of this lake is?”
Heyes turned to stare at the lake, then shrugged. “Nope, not a clue.”
“Folks around here call it “Hanging Lake.” Nice cheerful name, eh? Works out pretty good for us, though. With a name like that, we don't get many visitors poking their noses in our business out here. It's nice and private.” His clothing in a pile, John motioned for Heyes to stand up. He approached the ex-outlaw with a grin on his face and looped a length of rope through the one that bound Heyes' hands together and tied it in a knot. “Now comes the really strange part; hope you're a good swimmer, Heyes,” he added before he tossed his gun onto the pile of clothing.
Before he could analyze the cryptic words or reply, John had tugged him forward to the edge of the lake. To Heyes' consternation, his captor didn't stop there, but kept going further and further, sinking down into the water, taking Heyes along with him. With each step they took, the water rose higher and higher. Pulling back against the rope, Heyes struggled in earnest to free himself. “Are you trying to drown me?” he cried out when they were waist deep.
“Not yet,” John smirked. “Better take a deep breath,” he warned.
“I –”
“That isn't a joke or a suggestion, Heyes. Take a real deep breath and hold it, we're going under.”
Still resisting with all his might, the expression on the other man's face motivated Heyes to comply.
Once he was assured that his prisoner had done as requested, John also took a deep breath, then yanked on the rope so hard that Heyes lost his footing and fell face first into the water.
After that, it was all Heyes could do to hold his breath as they went deeper and deeper. Just as he thought his lungs would burst, their direction changed to an upward one. A moment later his head broke through to the surface and he gulped in precious breaths of oxygen. Feeling the tug of the rope again, Heyes was forced to swim in the direction it dictated and he soon found himself in water shallow enough to stand up in. Still gasping for breath, Heyes rose to his feet and looked around; he stood stock-still in awed wonder.
“Pretty impressive isn't it, Heyes?”
“And then some!” Heyes gasped between gulps of air. “It's some kinda cave, isn't it?”
“You are correct.”
Heyes cocked his head to the side. “But we swam down to get here.”
“We did,” John agreed. “It's what you call an underwater cave. The only way to get to where we are right now is to swim downward far enough to go up, then swim upward till you get here.”
“How'd you ever find this place?”
John gave him a speculative look, then shrugged. “How doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're here.”
“You said you'd take me to my partner!”
“I did, and I will; all in good time.” John stepped up and out of the water.
Heyes followed suit and stood dripping wet on the shore as water lapped at the nearby rocks. Despite the circumstances, he looked around with interest. Not too far off in the distance he could make out what appeared to be lanterns, providing some relief from the total darkness. He cocked his head to listen and was rewarded by the faint sound of voices. He glanced back at the water.
“Don't even think about it, Heyes. You'd never make it alive. There was a brief pause before he added, “And neither would your partner; give that some thought.” John pulled a knife out of a pocket and stepped towards his prisoner. Seeing Heyes' expression, John stopped. “Why would I bring you all the way here just to kill you?” he chided. “All I'm going to do is cut you loose.” He closed the distance between them, then cut through the ropes that bound Heyes' hands and turned to walk away. “Follow me.”
Heyes didn't move.
John kept walking, but called back over his shoulder, “If you want to see your partner, you'd best follow me.”
With a sigh of resignation, Heyes trailed reluctantly behind, his vigilant eyes taking in every detail as he searched for any sign of Kid Curry.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Awake once more, his eyes having adjusted to the dimness of his surroundings, Curry wasn't any more closer to discerning how, why or where he was. Rolling to his side, he struggled to sit up. After several failed attempts he finally achieved his goal. Breathing hard from his exertions, he glanced around hoping to find clues to answer his many questions.
“It must be some kinda cave. I can hear water close by, but that sure don't explain why I'm soaked to the skin. Or why I'm in my longjohns an' barefoot.” Using his legs to propel him, he twisted his body around so he could check out his surroundings from another angle.
“And that looks like it could be some kinda openin' over there...” he murmured. Lying back down, he rolled over and over several times until he reached his goal. Wriggling back into a sitting position, he squinted into the darkness. “Looks like maybe there's some kinda light down that tunnel,” Curry added. He cocked his head to listen. “Sounds like there might be some voices, too.” Although his wrists were already rubbed raw and bleeding, he worked harder at loosening his bonds. “Hope it'll be worth it,” he grimaced. “Maybe the blood'll help in slidin' the ropes off my hands.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Heyes followed John into a cavern and saw three men seated at a table playing poker while a fourth younger one stood before a fire stirring something in a pot.
“Is that him?” a man with a black mustache queried, giving Heyes a hard stare.
“Sure is, Jack. Told you I'd bring him in, didn't I?”
“He sure don't look like much,” a bearded man smirked.
“Well, that isn't his fault, Earl; we all look kinda funny in our long underwear,” John retorted. “Which reminds me... Sam,” he singled out a man in a blue shirt, “would you go grab him some dry clothes to put on while he's our guest?”
“Guest?” Heyes huffed under his breath.
“Sure thing, Boss; I'll be back in a flash.” Sam got up from the table and went to do the leader's bidding.
John turned to Heyes. “Bet you're trying to figure out what's going on, aren't you?”
“That's one of the things I'm working on,” Heyes replied, his expression enigmatic as he looked the man straight in the eyes. When John broke contact and stepped towards the fire, Heyes looked around the room searching for a clue to the whereabouts of his missing partner, but again he came up empty.
“Something sure smells good; what have you got going, Riley?” John asked the young man standing by the fire as he gave an appreciative sniff.
“Venison stew, Boss. It'll be ready in 'bout an hour.”
“Perfect. That'll give us time to explain things to our newest gang member.” He turned to see Heyes fastening the last button on a shirt before tucking it into his borrowed pants. “C'mon over here and sit down,” he motioned to an empty crate next to Jack.
"I wish you'd quit calling me that - the name's Joshua!" the ex-outlaw snapped. He stalked over to the crate and dropped down onto it, his arms folded across his chest.
John huffed, then continued as if the other man hadn't spoken. “I know you're anxious to see Curry, and if things work out here, after I'm done explaining them to you, then the two of you will be reunited in a short time. However, if things don't work out...” he left the threat hanging. “I brought you here because we need your help.”
Heyes quirked a brow as he answered wryly, “Wouldn't it have been simpler to just ask, instead of kidnapping my partner and nearly drowning me?”
“No,” John shook his head. “This way we're assured that you'll agree to lend your expertise to our little job.”
“And just what is this little job?”
“This hideout sits smack dab in the middle of three very large productive mines. Every month like clockwork, those same three mines have their payrolls delivered to them so they can pay the workers. Combined, the size of these payrolls total nearly $75,000.”
“And you and your men wanna get your hands on that payroll, right?”
John looked around at his men. “See, I told you he was smart.” He turned back to Heyes. “Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do. And that's where your skills will come in handy.”
“Let me guess; you want me to open the safe?”
“Not quite; you see, there are a couple of... complications.”
“What kind of complications?” Heyes' eyes narrowed.
“Well, to keep from being robbed, the mines have gotten a bit, shall we say creative, in the ways they receive their payrolls. They switch things up a bit. One time it might be by train, the next by stagecoach or another by pack mule. Why, once they even sent it with some men disguised as little old ladies in wagons – it was hidden in their valises and trunks.
“You're right, it does sound complicated,” Heyes nodded. “What makes you think I can do it if you don't even know how the money's being transported?”
“Because now we have someone working on the inside at the bank. They've been there for the past two months and have access to the methods the mines use. Once they know what it is, they pass that info on to me. We've been testing that info and so far they've been right each time. The way we figure it is this: once we know how the money's being sent, then we can plan on the best way to relieve them of their funds. And that's where you come in.”
“You want me to plan the robbery,” Heyes stated dryly.
“Oh no, you're not only going to plan the robbery, you're going to lead the gang in committing it.”
“But why me? And why wait so long when you have all the info you need to do it yourselves?”
“Let's call it a lucky break, Heyes. We were all resigned to the fact that we'd have to do it ourselves when Tucker saw you and Curry at your campsite. Why, when he came galloping back here to tell me that he had seen you, I was almost giddy with happiness. Yessiree, we're mighty lucky it was Tuck who was out scouting around that day. If it had been any of the others, the two of you would still be out there and we'd be trying to figure out how to pull off this robbery. Now that we've got you, it's a sure thing that this job will be done right.”
“There's no such thing as a sure thing,” Heyes was quick to point out.
“Call it whatever you like, Heyes. You're gonna plan it and it's gonna work. I won't take no for an answer, but if you try any – ”
“If I try anything,” Heyes broke in, “you'll tell me that you'll use my partner as leverage, right? Well, let me tell you something, Smith. Taunting me with that fact will only get you so far. If you want me to come up with a plan that'll work, then I want to see my friend right now!” Heyes demanded and slapped his palm on the table.
John held his hands up in mock surrender. “Take it easy, Heyes. I told you I'd take you to him as soon as things were explained. Don't worry, Curry's fine. He's cooling his heels while we get it all settled. Before I take you to him, is it agreed that you'll help us? I want your word that you'll come up with a workable plan guaranteed to get us that money.”
Heyes got to his feet and held out his hand to the other man. “I give you my word that I'll figure out a way for both of us to get what we want; the money for you and my partner back for me.”
John took the outstretched hand and the two men shook on the agreement.
“Okay, Heyes. Follow me and I'll take you to Curry.” John picked up a torch and led the way.
Last edited by royannahuggins on Fri 13 Mar 2020, 8:02 am; edited 21 times in total | |
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They barely get away from a posse only to get tangled up with a group of bad outlaws. What a great hideout! No one is going to find them there. What? A cliffhanger and I have to wait a whole week to find out what happens? sigh... Very good story - can't wait to see how they get out of this one! 
Very intense, eager to read part 2. Whoever this fellow is, he seems to be one step ahead of Heyes in some areas. Very curious as to why he wants Heyes to plan the robbery.