May, 2010

Issue #8

And Hell Came With Him, Part Two
by Larry Payne

Gunsight was not the quiet town Wil Sunday remembered. It had grown with new buildings along the street. The name McKinney dominated the businesses in the new buildings. He appeared to have a good hold on Gunsight.

A collection of horses marked a new saloon down the street. Wil would see an old friend to find out what went on in Gunsight.

Wil dismounted in front of O'Shay's Saloon. The owner of the saloon, Jimmy O'Shay, a big redheaded Irishman, stood behind the bar wiping glasses. He turned when he heard Wil come through the batwings.

"Are me eyes playin' tricks on me or has Wil Sunday risen from the dead," said Jimmy O'Shay with a big smile. Walking from behind the bar, he greeted Wil with a big hug and waved him toward the bar.

"Come, let Jimmy O'Shay buy ye a drink."

The big redhead went back behind the bar, setting a bottle of Irish whiskey in front of Wil.

"A special drink for a special friend."

Jimmy poured the whiskey into a shot glass in front of Wil and poured one for himself, lifting his glass to Wil.

"May ye be in heaven a long time before the devil knows yer dead."

They threw their shots back and Jimmy refilled the glasses.

"Awful quiet in here for this time of day, ain't it, Jimmy?" asked Wil after looking around the empty saloon. Jimmy's saloon had always been a popular place in Gunsight. He didn't think he'd ever seen it empty.

"A lot of things have changed since ye left, Wil me boy," replied Jimmy.

"This McKinney have anything to do with that? His name seems to be on just about every building in town."

"Jarod McKinney showed up shortly after ye left. Came with a lot of money and bought up a lot of land. Hired a bunch of gunhands to help 'im hold it, then he started on the town. That's 'is saloon across the street. Even the marshal is bought and paid for."

"Tom Draper still the marshal?"

"That 'e is. Never thought I'd see 'im turn on us like 'e did. McKinney's bunch can pretty much do what they want in Gunsight without any fear of the law."

Wil took the posters from his pocket and spread them out on the bar facing Jimmy.

"You seen any of these men in Gunsight?"

Jimmy studied the rough pictures of the men on the posters and slid them back to Wil.

"Three of McKinney's gunhands."

"You're sure?"

"As sure as I am I'm standin' here talkin' to Wil Sunday."

Wil picked up the posters, refolded them and returned them to his pocket.

"They come in town often?"

Jimmy nodded. "Every night. They'll drink 'til they git run out."

Wil held out his hand to Jimmy O'Shay. "You've been a good friend, Jimmy."

"We couldn't believe it when they told us Cassie'd been murdered. We all loved 'er, Wil. I'll do what I can to help ye get who done this to 'er."

Wil touched his fingers to his hat and left O'Shay's Saloon. He stabled Goldie and got a room at the Gunsight Hotel.

Wil removed his gunbelt, hanging it on the bedpost at the head of the bed. Cracking open the window, he lay down on the bed without removing his boots and was asleep before Buck got settled on the floor.

It was dusk when the tinny piano music from the McKinney saloon drifted through the open window waking Wil. Buck sat up when Wil rose from the bed.

Moving the curtain with his finger, he looked both ways down the street. McKinney's saloon had a full house. He took his gunbelt from the bedpost, buckled it on and thonged down the holster, shifting it until it felt comfortable.

"Let's go get some supper, we have work to do," Wil said to Buck.

It was dark when Wil walked out of the hotel dining room onto the boardwalk. Buck sat up when he saw Wil.

Standing at the edge of the boardwalk, Wil rolled a cigarette, lighting it with a match he struck on the support post. Stepping into the street, he walked toward the Cattleman's Saloon. Buck laid on the boardwalk when Wil went through the batwings. He weaved through the crowded saloon and up to the near end of the polished mahogany bar. The clack of the roulette wheel blended with the tinny notes of the out of tune piano.

He concentrated his attention on the tables with poker games in progress. This is where he would find his prey. He ordered a beer and proceeded to make his rounds of the poker tables.

Jess Walker sat at the third table he passed. He stood at the table looking at Walker until the gunhand looked up at him. After a second, Walker turned his attention back to the game. Walker had no idea who he was. He would wait for the crowd to thin before he made his move.

Wil was sitting at a nearby table when two of the men at Walker's table left their chairs. Wil rose from his table and walked over to stand in front of the bar facing Walker's table. Standing with his feet apart, he balanced his weight.

"Jess Walker, stand up and get what's comin' to you."

Walker looked up at Wil Sunday as men bolted from the line of fire.

"You talkin' to me, mister?" asked Walker.

"Time to pay up for what you done to me and mine," answered Wil.

"What do you say I done?"

Wil was aware that all the attention in the room was turned toward him and Jess Walker.

"You, Wade Jessup and Briley Cole, rode onto my land, gunned me down and raped and killed my wife."

Jess Walker smiled at Wil Sunday.

"I never rode with Wade Jessup."

Wil reached into his shirt pocket, never taking his eyes from Jess Walker. He shook the poster, unfolding it, and held it up for all to see.

"This says different."

The smile left Jess Walker's face. He jumped up from his chair, drawing his Colt as he came up. Wil anticipated Walker's move, drawing his Colt at the first sign of movement.

He fired before Jess Walker could clear leather with his Colt. His shot struck Jess Walker in the chest knocking him back, sending him toppling over the chair behind him.

Wil walked to the table and looked down at the motionless outlaw. Thumbing the spent shell from his Colt, he replaced it with a fresh one from his gunbelt and holstered his Colt.

The marshal came into the saloon as Wil was picking up the poster from the floor.

"What happened here?"

"Fair fight, marshal," said the bartender, "Walker drew first."

Marshal Tom Draper looked at Wil Sunday and smiled. "Still might not have been a fair fight."

Wil handed the poster to the marshal. "I'll be at the hotel when you get the money." Wil shouldered past Draper and through the batwings.

Wil sat in his hotel room at the small table cleaning his Colt when he heard a knock at his door. Getting up, he went to the door, careful not to stand in front of it.

"Who is it?"

"Tom Draper."

Wil turned the key and cracked open the door.

"Hello, Wil."

Wil opened the door to admit the marshal.

"Back to your old ways, Wil?" asked Draper as he walked past Wil, stopping at the window. He turned when Wil closed the door and walked back to the table.

"This was personal," said Wil. Sitting down at the table, he resumed cleaning his Colt.

"Walker was one of Jarod McKinney's men. He's not going to kiss you for killing him."

"He's also one of the men who killed Cassie," said Wil without looking up.

"McKinney will come looking for you. People expect it."

Wil stopped cleaning his Colt, laid it on the table, looking up at Draper. "I killed a man today that helped kill my wife. If Jarod McKinney comes looking for me, I won't run. I took care of one problem today, two are left. If I have to, I can take care of another."

Tom Draper left the window and started for the door. "I'll have your money for you in the morning. I'd be obliged if you left town after you collected it."

"You runnin' me out of town, Tom?"

"Let's just say I'm tryin' to stop trouble before it starts."

"Then, you better be talkin' to Jarod McKinney, not me. I'll be leavin' Gunsight when I've finished my business here, not before."

Wil picked up his Colt and resumed cleaning it. "Excuse me if I don't show you to the door." Wil didn't look up again until he heard the door latch behind Tom Draper.

The next morning,Wil and Buck stepped off the boardwalk in front of the hotel and walked toward the livery. Saddling Goldie, Wil led her across the street, hitching her to the rail in front of the gunsmith.

Stepping up on the boardwalk, Wil opened the door of the gun shop, ringing the bell mounted above the door on a taught spring. Hans Larson, known as Swede, sat at a workbench with his back to the door. He turned on his swivel stool when the bell rang.

"Wil Sunday," said Larson, with a heavy Swedish accent and a big smile. He got up from his stool, circled the glass display case and pumped Wil's hand vigorously. The Swede had been Wil's personal gunsmith when he was hunting bounty, paying regular visits to Gunsight to see him.

"Didn't know if I was going to see you again," said Swede, "They said you was in a bad way."

"Hell, Swede, It's gonna take more than a coupla pieces of lead to stop me."

"You may get a chance to find out. Jess Walker was one of Jarod McKinney's gunhands."

"So I've heard. Everyone keeps tellin' me how much trouble I'm in. Well, Jess Walker was one of them that killed Cassie. I did what I had to do."

"Won't matter to McKinney," said Swede. He held up a finger at Wil and picked up a ring of keys from his workbench, went to a locked cabinet and unlocked it.

"McKinney never goes anywhere without three or four of his gunhands, so let's even it up a little."

Larson took an oilskin bundle from the top shelf of the cabinet and laid it on the glass display case in front of Wil pointing to it.

"Go ahead, open it," said Swede with a grin.

Wil took his Bowie knife and cut the twine around the oilskin, smiling when he unwrapped the bundle.

"I thought I'd seen the last of this."

Wil picked up the Greener shotgun. The barrels and stock had been sawed off to make for easier handling. It had been a valuable weapon to Wil in his bounty hunting days. He sold it to Swede when he married Cassie, but Swede couldn't part with it, keeping it cleaned, oiled and wrapped. Now, he was giving it back to its rightful owner.

Swede went back to the cabinet to retrieve the saddle boot that went with it, putting it in front of Wil. He slid the Greener into the boot.

"You may need it sooner than you think," said Swede, nodding to the front window of the shop.

Jarod McKinney rode with three men down the street.

"You have a back door?" asked Wil. Swede pointed to a curtained doorway.

"Through there."

Wil grabbed the Greener and started through the curtain.

"Hey," shouted Swede, tossing Wil a box of shotgun shells. "Gun works better with these."

Wil smiled at Swede, touched two fingers to his hat and slid through the curtain.

Jarod McKinney rode into Gunsight with his foreman, Cinch Riley, and two of his gunhands, Wade Jessup and Briley Cole. They turned into the hitch rail at the Marshal's office and dismounted. Something caught Riley's eye as he stepped down from his saddle and nudged Jarod McKinney as he stepped up on the boardwalk.

"Seen that yeller horse before?" Riley asked McKinney.

"Yeah, I have," replied McKinney and turned to Jessup and Cole.

"Go check out who owns that yeller horse and bring him here to me."

The two gunhands walked across the street and into Swede Larson's shop.

"Where's the fella that owns that purty horse out front?' Jessup said to Larson who was rearranging a gun display. Swede shook his head.

"He didn't come in here."

"Well, we'll just take us a little look around," said Jessup, going behind the counter to look in the room behind Swede.

Briley Cole went to the curtained doorway, slid back the curtain and was greeted by the double-barreled blast of the Greener, hurling him back into the gun shop. Jessup came from the back room with his Colt drawn.

"Didn't come in here, huh?" he said to Swede, hitting him with the barrel of his Colt knocking him to the floor.

Jessup crept over to the narrow doorway, looking down at Cole lying in a twisted heap. Peeking around the corner of the doorway, he saw the back door standing wide open. He eased into the room stopping at the back door.

Cinch Riley, who bolted from Tom Draper's office at the sound of the shotgun blast, burst through the gun shop door with his Colt drawn. He looked down at the blood beginning to pool around the dead gunman.

"Jessup," shouted Riley.

"Back here," replied Jessup. Riley moved through the narrow doorway and met Wade Jessup at the back door.

"Ol' man said he wasn't here, but he was waiting when Cole come through the curtain. He went out through here."

"See if you can find him, I'll tell McKinney," said Riley. Jessup stepped through the door into the alley. Riley walked back through the gun shop.

"We'll deal with you, old man, when we're done with him," Riley said to Swede as he hurried out the door.

Jessup walked cautiously down the alley checking every doorway and alcove where a man could hide. Passing the stairwell behind the General Store, a stack of crates came tumbling down behind him. A double-barreled blast of the Greener caught him as he turned, killing him before he hit the ground.

"Them two won't be killin' anymore women," said Wil, running down the alley reloading the Greener.

Cinch Riley and Jarod McKinney looked out the window of the marshal's office at the sound of the second shotgun blast. Riley looked back at McKinney who nodded toward the door.

"Don't come back without him." McKinney watched Riley jog across the street and disappear between two buildings.

"Who is he, Draper?"

"His name is Wil Sunday and he's got you outclassed, Jarod."

"He's caused me a lot of headaches, killed, probably, three of my men and he's gonna pay."

"He's a killing machine, Jarod, and believes if a man's worth shootin', he's worth killin'. If you brace him, he'll leave you lying in the street and walk away."

"We'll see."

Wil Sunday went back through the open door of the gun shop. Hans Larson sat on the stool at the workbench holding a rag to his head.

"You all right, Swede?" asked Wil.

"Jah, will take more than a bump on the head to stop Hans Larson." He removed the bloody rag from his head revealing a small gash on his forehead.

"I'm going to put a stop to this before anymore innocent people get hurt," said Wil. He laid the Greener on the glass display case.

"I'll be back for this."

"Be careful, McKinney's foreman is still out there. Thery're not above backshootin'."

Wil went to the front door of the gun shop and out onto the boardwalk.

"Well, well, look what just showed up," said Jarod McKinney when he saw Wil come out of the gun shop. Wil stepped into the street, walking toward the marshal's office.

"Let it go, Jarod, you can't beat him," said Draper.

"Watch me."

Tom Draper and Jarod McKinney watched Wil Sunday walk toward them and stop in the middle of the street.

"McKinney, Jarod McKinney."

McKinney smiled at Tom Draper. "Let's not keep him waiting."

McKinney walked out onto the boardwalk followed by Draper. Stepping into the street, McKinney faced Wil Sunday.

"It's over, McKinney. Enough men have died," said Wil.

"You've caused me a lot of embarrassment, Sunday. It ain't over 'til you're face down in the street."

"Then, make your play, McKinney."

Mayor Herbert Addison, in his gray suit and derby hat, walked up beside Tom Draper.

"You have to stop this, marshal," said Addison.

"I tried, Herb, it's too late for that now."

McKinney caught movement behind Wil Sunday and saw Cinch Riley come out from beside the gun shop. With his Colt drawn, Riley moved into the street behind Wil.

Inside the shop, Hans Larson picked up the Greener shotgun from the counter, breaking it open to check the load. He walked from the counter to the door. Buck, who Wil left in the gun shop with Hans, began to bark when Larson thumbed back both hammers of the scattergun.

When Riley turned he saw Larson in the window with the Greener to his shoulder. The split second of surprised hesitation cost Riley his life. He caught both barrels of the scattergun in his chest sending him, flailing, backwards into the street.

Surprised by the shotgun blast, Wil ducked, turned aside and took a quick glance behind him in time to see Cinch Riley fall to the ground.

Seeing his chance, McKinney drew his Colt and fired a hurried shot at Wil Sunday.Turning back to McKinney an instant before the rancher fired, Wil dropped to the ground, firing twice.

McKinney stood with a bewildered look on his face, looking down at the growing red stain on the front of his shirt. Looking up at Wil, McKinney dropped to his knees letting the Colt slip from his fingers. He toppled over, face first, into the street.

Buck ran toward Wil as he picked himself up from the street. Wil thumbed the two shells from his Colt, replacing them from his gunbelt. He looked behind him where Hans Larson was walking toward the lifeless Cinch Riley, the barrels of the Greener resting on his shoulder.

Wil walked up to Jarod McKinney, the crimson stain growing around him. He turned the dead rancher over with the toe of his boot. Sightless eyes looked up at the blue sky. Wil holstered his Colt and, along with Buck, stepped up on the boardwalk in front of Tom Draper and Mayor Addison.

"You have your town back, Mayor. Don't let it get away this time," said Wil. He reached over and took the marshal's badge from Draper's shirt, handing it to the Mayor.

"I think you need a new marshal too."

Wil turned, stepped into the street and walked back to the gunshop. Swede waited for Wil on the boardwalk.

"Works good, too," he said, handing the scattergun back to Wil. Wil offered his hand to Larson.

"Swede, take care of yourself."

"Come back real soon, Wil," said Swede, shaking Wil's hand. Wil looked down at Buck.

"Let's go home, boy."

Click here to be notified when each new issue comes out!