February, 2010

Issue #5

The Old Ranger
by Gerry Wright

"Now I'm gonna kill you, old man. Just like you killed my Pa", said the Kid. He was young, about six feet tall and weighing around 170 pounds. His face was contorted with hate.

Thad Baker to whom he spoke, was much older, some six feet two inches tall and weighing in at 210 pounds.

They faced each other on the dusty street which ran up a slight rise from east to west in the little Texas cow town. Soon the sun would soon be setting. After a hot day, the breezes blew the tumbleweed across the street and from time to time raised small clouds of red dust.

The townspeople had gathered along the raised boardwalks on each side to watch the impending gunfight whilst others watched from first floor windows.

"Remember my Pa, Bill Peters?" his voice exuded the hate his face showed as he stood at the upper end of the street.

Of course Thad remembered. He remembered cradling his father in his arms as he lay dying from the bullets from Bill Peters' gun all those years before. "I'll get him, Pa. I'll get him". He had vowed tearfully.

Thad had grown up around horses and cattle and as soon as he had grown enough, he was allowed to work on the local cattle ranch where he became a wrangler, taking care of the horses.

At eighteen, he had joined his first cattle drive together with his father and it was on this drive that Peters' band of rustlers had attempted to stampede the herd. In the ensuing battle, his father was killed. He had helped to bury him out on the plain and it was from that time his life had changed. Thad vowed to bring Peters to justice.

At twenty-one, he had joined the Texas Rangers. Often he worked alone, and had become an expert with a knife and especially his Colt .45. He soon gained the reputation as a fast gun. The stories about him spread quickly and countless times he had apprehended law-breakers without any gun-play. Few had wanted to try their luck at facing him down. Those who did, usually finished up on Boot Hill.

He had other memories too.

During one manhunt, Thad and another Ranger, Jed Coulter, had been on the trail of some cattle thieves and in a shootout, Jed had been gunned down from behind by Bill Peters.

"We're close Jed. Now he's mine", he had said to his dying friend. The posters had said Peters was 'Wanted Dead or Alive' and week later, Thad had caught up with him and brought in his body across the saddle of his horse.

These things were as sharp in his memory as though they had happened yesterday and now here was Peters' son wanting revenge. Everyone in the territory knew he was wild and fast with a gun. No one crossed him. He had no respect for a man's life and a woman was there for the taking.

Thad had retired from the Rangers some years before and settled into what he thought would be a quiet life in a quiet town, but this particular day, the Kid had arrived in town bent on revenge. Thad was now much older but that did not matter at all to this crazy gunfighter.

"You hear what I'm saying, old man?" he called.

"I hear you", replied Thad quietly. He appeared calm and composed but was this to be his last gunfight?.

"Don't do it, Thad", they had said but he was a proud man and had never backed down in the face of anything that he saw as evil.

"Don't be a fool, boy", he was heard to say, "Leave your gun where it is and walk away, I don't want to have to kill you as well", his voice was clear and firm but he was playing for time.

The Kid laughed nervously, "I've killed eight men already", he boasted, "you'll just be another loser".

"Maybe", said Thad.

The sun dipped towards the horizon. The Kid on the higher ground had his back to it, a ploy Thad knew was often used. That way the other man always had to look into the sunset, but Thad remained calm.

The sun sank lower. All that could be seen of the Kid's face, now in deep shadow below the brim of his hat, was the white of his teeth as he sneered.

"Got you now, old man".

"Maybe", repeated Thad calmly.

The crowd was edgy, but what could they do? Thad had made his decision.

Doubts ran through the bystanders, "Is he still fast enough?". "The sun's right in his eyes". "What's he going to do?".

"Walk away, boy. I don't want to harm you", Thad said for all to hear. His voice was firm, confident and icy cold but still he needed a little more time.

He remained motionless, waiting. The Kid started to walk towards him, right hand hovering over the butt of his gun on his hip. They were twelve paces apart.

Then, it happened, but so quickly, that later, the crowd were still not really sure what had taken place.

As the Kid walked forward, the fiery sun suddenly disappeared from Thad's view. He saw the other man in sharp silhouette. Black. He noticed the movement as the Kid's hand made a move for his gun.

In an instant, Thad's Colt had cleared the confines of its black leather holster and been brought to bear on the black shadow. As he squeezed the trigger, his left hand fanned the hammer so fast that it seemed a blur.

Six shots rang out and the bullets sped into the silhouette. There was a cry of pain from the Kid as he fell backwards, the bullets tearing into his body. He managed to fire one shot but he was on his way to the ground and it flew wildly astray, smashing through the undertaker's front window and, perhaps prophetically, embedding itself in one of the coffins on display.

The crowd watched, open mouthed at the speed of Thad's reaction.

He stood without moving for a few moments, then with a sigh he slowly walked towards the dead man, whose blood was now staining the lighter red sand of the street. When he reached the body, his foot touched the Kid's boot.

"Damn fool, boy", he murmured, "Why didn't you walk away when you could?".

It was too late now for the Kid to learn that in choosing to fight with his back to the sunset, he had already lost the fight.

Thad Baker was nearly blind. Today the sun had been his ally and he had played for time just long enough to get the Kid into the spot where he could 'see' him.

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