Episode 3: Dixon Springs

I awaken at first light to the sharp end of a boot in my ribs.

"Get up, we're headin' out soon."

"I see you helped yourself to my bacon and coffee," I sneer, rubbing my eyes.

"Don't worry, I made some for you."  Ray hands me a cup and a few sad strips of meat.  "Charlie and gang have a safe house east of the Cumberland River.  We're heading into Dixon Springs.  With the bounty on my head, we can get the sheriff's attention."

"But won't you be hanged you on the spot?"

Ray mounts his horse.  "Not if I can bring them Charlie.  Pack up, time to go."

Dixon Springs was a four day ride from our campfire with a population of no more than twenty.  It had a saloon, a general store, and a sorry excuse of a post office.  The sleepy town's only excitement was some drunks fighting at the poker table, evidenced by the jail being located right next to the saloon.  All the buildings were lined up in a row, if you blinked you were on the other side.  Our presence was immediately known.  People ducked, scared, into doorways and stared from behind second floor windows.

The sheriff comes through the door of the jail, pointing his Remington lever action rifle directly at Ray's head.

"By the power invested in me by the town of Dixon Springs, I order you to dismount your horse and put your hands up, and turn around or you will be shot until you are dead!"

Ray nods at me.  We dismount and put our hands in the air.  A crowd begins to gather outside. 

"Ray Black, you are under arrest for the robbery of the 8:30 train to Chattanooga.  Tomorrow you will hang."

"I can bring you Charlie Steward!" Ray's voice booms back.  Whispers began coming from the crowd.

"That I cannot allow you to do!  You see, goin' through our little ol' town here is the only way to get to Charlie's safe house in Evitts Hollow.  He knew you'd come by here to barter for his life.  He told me that if I killed you, I'd get your share of the train score.  Fifty thousand is a pretty big number, so I obliged.  No hard feelings Ray, just business."

Ray's expression goes cold.  His eyes darken.  He turns to look at a young woman, holding her child's eyes, shielding the poor boy from what is about to happen.  Tears streaming down her face, her mouth trembles.  It looks like she mouths something toward Ray.  Ray tautly shakes his head.

I can hear the sheriff walking toward us, the dirt crunching under his boots.  He's coming to disarm us.  The footsteps get closer.  They stop just behind Ray.  I turn my head to the side.  The sheriff has his rifle up to the back of Ray's head.  I hear the hammer locks.

I whip around and pull my knife from my belt in one motion, driving the blade into the sheriff's side.  The sheriff cries out in pain, blood spurting from his mouth.  Ray turns around, pulls his revolver, and shoots the sheriff point blank in the chest.  The sheriff collapses to the ground.  Shot in the chest and a mortal wound to his side, the sheriff drags his body across the dust reaching toward his rifle.  Ray puts another round into the sheriff's back.  The sheriff, grasping on to life, tries to pull himself closer to the rifle.  Ray puts three more into the sheriff's back.  Gurgling and drowning in his own blood, the sheriff's eyes meet mine before they go lifeless.

I drop to my knees and stare at the body.  The silence feels like an eternity.  Ray pulls my blade from the sheriff and kneeling next to me, puts it back in my hand.  He slowly turns to the crowd.  It took a moment for the townspeople to understand that Ray was not there to hurt them.

"Charlie and his boys came on through here about three days ago," the old postman said, voice shaking.  "They came into the saloon, held some of our women at gunpoint, robbed us, and made us feed his whole gang of ruffians.  Once they had their fill of food and drink, they took what they wanted from the women."

My stomach wrenches.  I just think of Mary and Sam and how this could have been them.

"We...we went to the sheriff," the wife of the general store owner sobs.  "He just told us to give them what they wanted and they would leave us alone.  But they didn't leave us alone.  They kept coming back for more.  The sheriff didn't even lift a finger."

The general store owner goes to comfort his wife.  "They're coming back tomorrow to stock up on more supplies, I reckon they're planning on something.  There's a bank just built north of us, in Lafayette.  That's where I think they'll go next."

"We're a small town, but we won't let that murderer steal from us and hurt the ones we love," the bartender spoke up, finding his strength.  "How can we help?"

TO BE CONTINUED...

Episode 2: The Train Heist

"But...but sir," my voice trembles, "I don't know the first thing about killing."

Ray Black eyes me suspiciously.  "You were a medic in the war and you don't know anything about killin'?  You sure been 'round a lot of death."

"I'm just a rancher, mister.  I have a family."

"The only way you can get back to your family is by helping me," Ray snarls.  I certainly can't let you go."

"Wh...why not?"  I whimper.

"Because you seen my face.  I can't risk you tellin' anybody where I am,"  Ray slyly glances toward his sidearm.  "You're in the shit now, son.  You do what I tell you, you go back home to your family."

Think about Mary, think about Sam.  What are their chances if you're dead?

"Yes, sir.  What happened between you and Charlie?"

Ray's voice lowers.  The shadows from the firelight cover Ray's eyes.  "Charlie used to be my best friend.  We grew up together in Tennessee.  When the war broke out, Charlie jumped at the chance to enlist.  Said he wanted to 'kill him some bluecoats.'  Charlie could sell water to a fish, boy could talk.  He somehow convinced me to enlist with him."

Ray lets out a wry smile.  For a second, he wasn't the terrifying man of his reputation.  "I mean, at the time, three solid meals and a paycheck was hard to turn down."

Then he looks up at me, his blue eyes pierce my soul.  He voice deepens.  "Killin' came easy to us, but Charlie was especially good at it.  He enjoyed inflicting pain.  We became quite efficient "

Ray's eyes soften.  "I lost a lot of friends, a lot of boys that grew up with nothin'.  But we survived.  After the war, the South was ravaged.  Poor boys sent to go die came home with nothing while the politicians that got us into the war didn't lose a damn thing.  That didn't sit right with Charlie and me.  We started with stage coaches, not a lot of pushback from the driver or the passengers.  Wave your gun around and they'll give you whatever you want."

He takes a pull from the bottle and wipes his mouth.  "Trains were the big score.  The more trains we knocked over, the more Charlie's...methods...became more violent.  After a while it was less about the money and more about doing the most damage.  All we wanted to do was even the score a little but Charlie's influence over the gang became absolute.  But we lost sight of who we were."

Ray lights a cigar and takes a long drag, blowing the cloud into the air.  "A few days ago, we got word of a government train leaving Chattanooga for Washington.  On board was hundreds of thousands of dollars seized from Southern banks.  This score would last us until our dyin' day.  We had it all planned out.  Before riding out, I told Charlie this would be my last job, that I was sick of the killin'.  With this score I could head out into the mountains and live out comfortably til my last breath."

Ray takes another drag of his cigar.  "Charlie didn't like that.  He said that we were a team and that only a coward would quit on his brothers.  But I told him nothing could change my mind, that I would help him one more time and that was it."

He crushes out his cigar.  "We couldn't have planned that job any better.  We got on the train, took our hostages, and relieved them of their coffers.  Everything went according to plan until one Pinkerton had to try and be a hero.  We were on our way out and one of the Pinkertons got the drop on me and pulled a small revolver.  Charlie turned that man's head into a canoe.  Then he shot everyone in the cars.  Passengers, Pinkertons, the bastard that shovels the coal, you name it.  Those boys killed every last person on that train.  Charlie, with a big grin on his face, turns to me."

'I thought a lot about what you said, Ray.  Here's your cut.  You're out.'

"I reach for the bag and everyone draws on me."

'But you know what I look like, what all of us here look like.  Can't rightfully let you go tellin' somebody what happened here.  It's a damn shame, we made a good team.  But you got soft.  Even when we was enlisted up you never had the stomach for this kind of thing."

"Charlie shoots.  Fire fills my chest.  Charlie stands over me, looking me in the eyes."

'Sorry, Ray, see you on the other side.'

"Everything goes black.  I wake up days later in the train car, surrounded by bodies of the poor souls unlucky enough to be on that train.  Parched and weak, I drag myself out of the car.  After walking for what feels like hours in the Tennessee sun, I find a small stream and drink from it before pressing on.  My wound steadily leaking blood, I settle down and manage to make a fire at dusk.  This is where you found me."

Ray throws his head back and finishes the bottle.  He lays back and tips his hat over his face.  "Get some rest, son, tomorrow we go into town.  That's where your job starts."


TO BE CONTINUED...

EPISODE 1: The Stranger

Better head on in.  I reckon Mary will be worried if I don't make it back before sundown.

I was out on the plains lookin' to shoot a couple hares to bring back to Mary and Sam for supper.  Time tends to fly by when you're runnin' around shootin' them suckers and I wasn't going to make it home before dark.  With the coyotes and wolves, the plains can get a little dangerous for a man riding alone after dark.  So I figured I'd get a fire goin' and settle down for the night.  We had plenty of stores of smoked elk back at the house so Mary and Sam could manage without me.

I see a faint glow on the horizon and ride toward it.

I reckon that's another weary traveler set down for the night.  Maybe if give him one of these hares he'll let me join him.

I keep a hand on the handle of my Colt in case the traveler is not the friendly type.  When I get within earshot, I call out to him.

"Hey there, partner!  No need to be alarmed, I'm just passin' through.  Lookin' to hunker down for the night.  I can give you one of these here hares if you let me join you.  It ain't fat or nothin', but I reckon it'd make a nice meal."

The man nods.  He doesn't appear to be a friendly fellow.  But as I approach, I can see his face illuminated in the orange glow of the campfire.  He's got long, black hair and a short, grizzled black beard.  An X shaped scar adorns his cheek.  He had these striking blue eyes that cut daggers into you.

I get closer and I see the man clutching his chest.  His shirt is soaked and black blood oozes through his fingers.

"Say, mister, that's a pretty nasty wound you got there," I say in a shaky voice.  "What...uh... happened?"

He ignores me.

"Say, mister, I used to be a medic in the war.  I can patch that up for you.  Blood's turnin' black.  Your wound'll kill you if not taken care of."

He nods.  I slowly approach him.  He removes his hand to reveal a bullet wound.  Exit wound is in his back.  Lucky for him the bullet passed through.

I tear the sleeve from my shirt and press it hard into the wound.  The Stranger winces in pain and takes a long pull from the bottle he's holding.  As I tend to the exit wound in his back he mutters something.

"Charlie Steward."

"Sir?"

"Charlie Steward.  Charlie Steward shot me."

My heart sinks.  Charlie Steward is the second in command of the Black-Steward Gang.  The Black-Steward Gang is a posse of vicious train robbers infamous across the West for their brutality and efficiency.  I now know who this man is.

"Are you...are you...Ray Black?"

"I am.  I'm going to find Charlie and I'm going to kill that son of a bitch.  And you're going to help me."

TO BE CONTINUED...