Chapter 16

When they came there were three.

These were the sort of mindless half-sober bumbling antagonists Vernon would happily sacrifice in return for knowledge of my exact whereabouts. I do not doubt that he had made eloquent and persuasive promises to such men, graspers who give little thought to the value of things other than the immediacy of their reward; it should be noted that men who could be so easily persuaded to risk everything for the word of a schemer as Vernon were perhaps not the most elevated of thinkers. If they had known what deeds I had previously carried out while in the employ of Vernon I doubt they would have got out of bed that morning, or if they did then perhaps they would have constructed themselves an accident on which to cripple their usefulness and hope that he would not see through such a shallow ruse before crippling them further with a bullet.

It is true, as I have stated before, that it is no easy thing to walk up to an enemy with a head full of ill intentions. I expect that these men had about them a some small sense of what it is they were attempting to do, why else would Vernon bring so many armed and violent men to deal with one. Whatever thinking they had put into planning their maneuvers  did not seem to me to have taken up too much of their time, by the time Vernon had finished speaking they were almost upon me.

The first made his presence known by his scrabbling for foothold on the far side of the bridge’s roof, away from my sight. He was carrying a revolver before him in one hand, this could not have been an easy thing to do as the wood was surely still slick with morning frost. He had slipped a couple of times before he reached this end of the bridge, a clattering of bones and a scrambling of boots each time as he made to gain purchase. He was gasping loudly for breath by the time he had crossed, clinging to the edge and peeking over while waiting for the other two to catch him up; that he had no wish to rush to claim any reward solely for himself was as clear as day.

Another of the other gunmen soon joined him there, his progress across much the same as the first. The first man pointed towards the position of my rocky cover with his gun while the second raised his head for a better view, but only for a moment. They were not utterly foolhardy or without some caution.

It was the third who surprised me, his bold approach unexpected in the direction from which it commenced. This one had somehow slunk across the bridge interior without my observing, by staying close to this side wall and the floor and proceeding with utmost care he drew no attention to himself in the gloom. Only by chance did I spot him when his head momentarily protruded from the dark in order to take a quick peek at his surroundings.

This was a patient man, and I thought to deal with him first would be wise. I had little choice in the matter as, before I could decide on how to deal with matters, he chose to begin his assault with two pistols blazing and walking with haste almost directly towards me. He was screaming as he did so, which was disconcerting, and I was all but dumbstruck by his sheer brazen audacity. How could a man who had taken time and care to proceed along all one hundred and fifty feet or so of the bridge’s span, with a stealthy care for his own preservation, so readily abandon his cause to behave as one who had no wish to carry on living.

Smoke and bullets were discharged from his pistols with hellish rage as he drew closer, the smoke swirling around him like a devil’s cloak while the hot lead of his shots screamed as they ricochetted off nearby rocks. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed the other two as they dropped from the roof. The first began running wide to flank me while the second crumpled to the ground clutching his knee, a high pitched shout of agony ripping from his lungs as he rolled awkwardly backwards and down the river bank. That was all of the moment that my mind and my body needed, there was no thinking involved in anything that followed - or, if there was, I could not ever hope to remember it.

I stood with the coach gun, short as it was, pressed to my shoulder and fired both barrels at the gunman who was coming directly at me. I had not wavered and my aim was good, the shot taking him off to one side of his chest and whipping him around to land in a heap. I knew he would not rise and so turned my attention to the gunman who had attempted to flank me on my right, he was no longer running and, as if seeing the error of his ways, had become indecisive about what he should be doing. I had dropped the shotgun to the ground and made a grab for my pistols, holding both outstretched in his direction I began to walk at him. As his gun was no yet pointing at me I thought he might delay and turn to run, having 12 barrels of lead ball aimed towards you ought to make a man think upon his actions. Whoever he was made a bad hash of things, neither having his full attentions on me or watching where he was walking. His left foot sank into the rutted mud deeper than he expected, the ground sucked at his boot and was mightily reluctant to let go. As he moved to prevent himself from tripping he managed to get himself entangled, hopping and flailing about to maintain his balance. Somehow he had contrived to end up with his lower body facing away from me, stuck fast in the trail’s tracks, while his upper half contorted around upon itself so that he would have a view of me. His gun hand now hung loose by his side, making no effort to put sight on me.

He was an older man than I, and somewhat familiar from my days with Vernon even if I could not recall his name. He shrugged with the air of a man grown tired of disappointing himself, weary of his own bad luck and glad to be done with things. It seemed like I was doing him a favour when I shot him. I did not spare him a second thought as he slumped slowly to the ground, the life sagging out of him in a cough and a long miserable wheezing sigh. I paused, one eye towards the bridge, until he lay still and then put another two into him to finish the job. It has always been my contention that when you seek to do a man in that you would do well not give him even the slightest opportunity to find a way back to seek his retribution. When all has seemed to be done, spare a moment to put one in the heart and one in the head and let the soul can take care of itself after that.   

I made my way back towards the bridge to see what had become of the third unfortunate member of this raiding party, hopeful that he might have done my work for me.