“Take cover, Brent! Take cover.”
Chapter XXXIV
The church had big windows, and it had big doors, too, but the doors were closed and probably locked from the inside. The windows, however, were large and without glass.
His mode of entry was obvious.
When Decker saw the dust cloud, he knew trouble was heading his way, and he made his decision on the spur of the moment. He was going to have to take his chances with the men inside the church rather than the ones outside.
First he took out some extra shells for his shotgun and put them in various pockets. Then he dug his heels into John Henry, asking him for speed, and the little gelding responded. He heard the single shot fired at him from the tower, but knew after a second one didn’t follow that it never would. They had seen the dust cloud, too, even clearer than he had.
He rode ol’ John Henry straight as an arrow at the church and picked out his window.
The gelding knew what he had to do, and he did it.
He launched himself through the air, cleared the window easily, and Decker was inside.
As John Henry’s hooves hit the floor, Decker launched himself from the saddle. He landed rolling and came to a stop next to what was left of a set of church pews. Meager cover at best, but at least it was something. He pulled his gun and waited for the commotion to subside.
John Henry’s arrival had spooked the other two horses in the church and they began Tomake a racket.
Decker saw the red-haired man who had been holding the horses get pulled off his feet by them. He was not quick to rise, and Decker assumed that this was the wounded brother. The healthy one would have climbed into the tower.
As if to confirm his thought, the second man dropped down from the bell tower, hit the floor, and dashed for the pews at the far end of the church.
John Henry found himself a nice quiet corner and walked over to it to stand perfectly still. Somehow his actions dictated those of the other two horses, who followed his lead and did the same thing.
It was quiet and they could all hear the approach of thundering hooves.
“Foxx?”
“Yeah!”
“We’ve got to put this off until those riders pass by. I don’t know if they’re Indians or comancheros, but whichever it is they won’t be friendly.”
Silence.
“We can’t stand them off alone.”
Silence, and then one of them spoke. Decker thought it was the one from the bell tower.
“All right. Nobody moves until they’ve passed.”
“Agreed.”
The three of them sat stock-still and listened. From Decker’s vantage point he was able to see out a front window. None of them had seen the approaching riders until it was too late. Decker had been intent on the church, and the men in the church on Decker.
Now they had to hope that whoever they were— they were surely some kind of scavengers—they wouldn’t decide to check the church out for what was available.
Suddenly the riders were upon them, riding past the church. Decker could hardly see through the window because of the dust, but he saw enough to tell him who they were.
The worst scavengers on the plains.
Even worse than the Indians.
Comancheros.
Brian couldn’t see Brent from where he was, but he was hoping that his brother wouldn’t try anything foolish. They had enough trouble without attracting the passing riders.
The horsemen were riding so close that the church began to fill with dust that filtered through the windows. Brian craned his neck to see out a window, and his worst fears were realized as he saw the riders.
It seemed to take forever for the comancheros to ride past, and from the sound Decker guessed that there had to be at least forty of them.
Decker would have preferred to deal with Indians than with comancheros. Indians were at least honorable—for the most part. You could impress an Indian with courage, or intelligence, or sincerity.
A comanchero was the lowest form of life on earth, as far as Decker was concerned. They were whites, Mexicans, Indians, the scum from every race imaginable, and they respected nothing and no one. And what they had been known to do with women…
Jesus, he thought, the women!
They were heading straight for Rebecca and Felicia.
“Foxx!”
No answer.
“Foxx!”
Could they have gotten out while the comancheros were riding by? No, their horses were still there.
“Foxx! Come on, one of you answer me!”
“Who are you?” a voice finally called out.
“My name is Decker. I’m a bounty hunter.”
“You’ll find this bounty the hardest you ever tried to collect,” another voice said. It was the wounded one, lying on the floor somewhere.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“A deal?” the second voice asked.
“Yes, a deal.”
“What is it?” That was the first Foxx.
“I was traveling with a woman and a fourteen-year-old girl. Those comancheros are going to ride right into them. I’m sure you know what comancheros have been known to do to women.”
“So? What’s that to us?” the second man asked.
“Nothing. I’m telling you that I want out of here so I can go and try to help them.”
The second man laughed harshly.
“You expect us to let you out of here? To let you get away after you hounded us this far?”
“If you make me stay, somebody’s going to get killed, and it won’t be me.”
Again the second man laughed.
“There’s two of us. How do you expect to get us both?”
“Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just get one. Which one wants to go?”
“You’re going, bounty hunter—and soon.”
Decker decided Tomake his point a little stronger.
He stood up quickly and fired one barrel at the front door, which had been jammed shut with a piece of beam. The shot struck the partially rotted beam and almost exploded it into splinters, and the doors swung open. He then ducked out of sight and whistled.
What happened next must have really puzzled the Foxxes. John Henry started a ruckus, kicking and neighing, and it stampeded the other two horses right out the door, with John Henry on their tail.
“Now you’ve got no horses,” Decker said, replacing the spent shell with a live one.
“That was stupid. You don’t have a horse either,” the second voice said.
“Oh, but I do. My gelding will simply wait out-side for me.”
“Then we’ll take him—after we kill you.”
Decker wondered why the other brother hadn’t done more talking. From the way this one was talking, the other one had to be the smarter one.
He decided to take a chance that the smartest one, the one who had planned the jobs, was the real Brian.
“Brian, why is your brother doing all the talking?”
There was a moment of silence while the brothers tried to figure out how he knew which one was Brian. He hoped they wouldn’t ask him to name the other one.
Brian started when he heard his name. He knew that the man was talking to him. Somehow this Decker had managed to figure out their whole scam and even knew which of them was which.
This was a dangerous man.
“What’s your offer?” Brian called out.
“It’s simple,” Decker replied. “I walk out of here clean and try to help my friends.”
“And us?”
“You round up your horses and be on your way.”
“And after you’ve helped your friends?”
“I admire your confidence,” Decker said. “If I should avoid getting killed by those comancheros, I’ll come right after you again.”