Short Story: Thunder in the Valley Part…

Short Story: Thunder in the Valley Part Two: Ricochet!

Tomorrow had not yet arrived, and yesterday waited patiently for the slow hours to melt into the black night of the plain. The moon clawed at the vast columns of cloud that filled the unseen sky; yet the lunar mantle could not break through the dense barrier of cloud cover. The columns of cloud could no longer hold their cargo, and suddenly heavy beads of rain burst through, and thunder began to shout across the valley.

As Maria listened to the rhythm of the night hours, rain started to drum upon the planked roof of the cabin. The young woman rested uneasily, as the sound of rain and thunder drummed into her worried mind. She wondered at Green-Thorn's powers of staying alive. Despite her close attentions to his wound, a fever had taken hold of the boy. The snakebite toxins rasped his body, and the nightmares he fought, were his alone. The battle for life and death played out into the long night, and fate spun around its wheel. Maria could hear the groans of his lonely battle in the back room, and his sudden cries spiked the warm night air.

The morning would not be hurried, and the moon gave up its futile attempts to cast glimmers of light onto the plain below. The night music played on, and the night remained as black as the raven, intermittently spiked with jagged bolts of lightning. Maria slipped in and out of sleep, until at last she no longer knew where her consciousness pulled her, yet the muscular arm that held her, comforted her dreams.

The breathing rhythm of the boy became steady, and his guttural murmuring abated. The steady breathing filtered through the cabin, and Maria fell from her dream. She sensed that the fever had ebbed away, and her body sank into the warm comforting body beside her.

Garrett cleared the sleep from his mind and immersed his head in the basin of water at the bedside. He dressed quickly, and passed an affectionate glance at the sleeping woman as he left the room. He paused and listened to the steady breathing of the boy, and noticed the reduced swelling of the snakebite. He smiled to himself, turned and moved quietly into the early morning light upon soundless footsteps.

Once outside Garrett found coolness in the morning air, and as he looked he could see the far range of mountains were encased in long streaks of crimson cloud. He drew the black horse from the stall, and threw the heavy saddle onto its back, deftly located the under-strap, and gathered the reigns. He judged from the gloss on the horse that he had recovered well, and he led his mount to the trough. If all went well this morning, he would be back before the others were up. If he was wrong...

The lean young man pulled the canvas jacket buttons tightly together, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. If he was wrong, he might never be coming back. It was an instinctive gambit, but he knew that the danger that hunted him would not give up. He pushed the long rifle into its leather sheath, secured the Colt in its holster, and mounted. He jerked the reigns and the black responded, and in moments he was a lone figure, heading out into the rising skyline.

Fast hooves pounded into the moist earth, and the skinny hens scattered. Leather boots suddenly stepped heavily onto the wooden boards of the veranda. A dark shadow passed Maria's open window, and the door latch began to rattle violently.

“Come on in there! …Open up!" boomed a large voice.

"Hurry it up - or I'll kick the door in!"

Maria's mind seeped slowly back into life, and there seemed to be a clatter inside her head. Still in the grip of sleep, she released the wooden peg and unlatched the door.

The morning light poured onto her face, and Maria shielded its glare with her hand. She squinted up into the silhouette that filled the sun. The sun had blotted out the features of the figure, and a bright halo of light circled a large-brimmed hat.

“Well now ma'am," continued the big voice, "you seem a lively kitten; now run along and call him out!"

"Who are you? … What do you want here?" answered Maria.

In an attempt to boost her brave words, Maria tried to push back upon the door, but its travel was stopped by a stamping leather boot, and she looked fearfully into the silhouette of the black hat.

"Oh! No you don't! Don't give me any of your sweet innocence," said the stranger, and he grabbed hold of Maria's arm, and yanked her out onto the veranda.

“Ahhh ..…!”

"We've been following Hobourne's trail for nigh on six weeks, and believe me missy, I know when he's close by - I can smell that wounded coyote!"

"Let go of me, you're hurting my arm! I don't know what you're talking about. You'd better leave now – they’ll all be back soon!"

Maria could see him clearly now, and glanced into the intruder's face for the first time. Her heart sank. At once she saw the dead and vapid features under the broad-brimmed hat. She could sense the lust for death within his grizzled face. His grey beard and moustache had been worked into one tangled mass, by hard riding and a lashing wind. The dark mass of his face was pierced momentarily, by an evil toothless grin.

"Don't you mess with me! We've been hunting that Hobourne for too long now, to let go so easy. There’s a bounty on his head, and we aim to collect!”

The bounty hunter jerked Maria along the veranda, like a rag doll.

"Yeah, and any man of yours would have shown himself by now. He’s here somewhere’s. Is he hidin’ maybe? Eh?” The intruder scanned the cabin for signs of movement.

“Well jus’ maybe Luke and Red are gonna have themselves some fun with that boy - if he don’t show!" The bounty hunter grinned again, and nodded his hat in the direction of the corral.

Maria looked and saw two other men, and they were laughing as they bound up a large vegetable sack with a long rope.

"Yeah, Hobourne’s here ain't he missy?" continued the stranger.

"No, no . . . I don't know who you're after, there’s no one here; even if there were I wouldn't tell you!" screamed Maria.

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her back, and realised she had been knocked to the ground. She peered through her long black hair as it hung down in the mud. In a second the man had torn at her clothes, and his eyes leered at her exposed breast.

She became paralysed with shock, and could do nothing as the rough stranger stared down at her with black eyes. She shut her mind to her ordeal, and could only turn her head away, to the corral. Through moist eyes she could see the two other men rough-roping their strange bundle.

They tethered a long rope to one of the saddle-horns, and mounted their horses.

"Come on - come on! I ain't got all day," boomed the big voice again. "Where is he?" The stranger glared down at her. "If you don't loosen your tongue I shall let the boys have their way, and believe me, they ain’t so gentle!"

Maria could not bring herself to look into his evil face, and continued to stare away. She saw the two riders whip up their mounts and gallop back and forth, laughing and yelling as they did so. The tethered bundle twisted and bumped heavily across the ground. Suddenly the full horror of the bundle came to her - the boy!

From deep within, Maria could sense the fermentation of her own anger, and made an attempt to cover herself. She raised herself up, "You bastards! … What kind of men are you?"

"The kind who want to get paid missy." In a rapid swipe the intruder withdrew his revolver, and struck Maria squarely in the back with its butt. He towered over her as she fell again, and his voice tone dropped, "You'll get the same treatment as the boy, if you don't tell me where Hobourne is."

"You fools!" croaked Maria, as she put a hand to her sore back. The boy can't tell you anything, let him go - he's sick!"

The bearded man reached down and squeezed Maria's face in a vice-like grip. He pulled her face close to his, "Yeah? … So why was he trying to run away? Eh?”

Maria could see the hatred in his lifeless eyes, and could smell the stench of his blood lust. Uncontrollably her body began to shake. She became filled with fear, and her eyes irresistibly flicked to the cabin.

In that instant he knew.

"So he is here, huh? Where is he? Hiding under your bed?"

The bounty hunter released his tight grip, and cocked the hammer of his revolver He did not wait for an answer. He extended his gun, stepped over Maria's prone body, and edged his dark frame toward the cabin door. He moved slowly and with care, his whole body became moulded to his gun.

Maria's back hurt, and her head throbbed with pain and anger, such that she thought she would burst. She began to cry.

"Here!" A voice as clear as the morning split the air.

Garrett Hobourne stood four square in front of the barn, near the woodpile. His eyes were sharp, and his gun-belt hung loosely upon his hips. He was ready to deal the cards of death.

The menacing figure of the bounty hunter turned in one movement and emptied his revolver immediately at the voice.

Splinters flared from the barn door, and a ricochet of splintered wood spat into Garrett’s leg, yet he remained unmoved.

Maria screamed a warning, but her cries were lost in the thunder of gunshot and cordite.

Garrett drew his gun like quicksilver from its holster, and aimed it at arm's length along its barrel. With deliberate precision he squeezed the trigger smoothly at the deadly target.

The dark target on the veranda crumpled, and crashed through the tether-rail. The bounty hunter's hat flew from his body, to reveal a hairless head. The body thumped heavily into the earth, and did not move. Maria let out a dry and cracked scream as the lifeless body fell at her side. She looked away in horror, only to see a greater danger approaching.

The two men at the far end of the corral had dropped their bundle, and the contents spilled out unceremoniously. Maria gathered herself up, and threw herself into the cabin, and groped around desperately for her late husband's shotgun.

Outside, the two riders had picked up their reigns, and drawn their guns. As they galloped, the eyes of their mounts were shot red with fear, and their manes flapped wildly. The horses ate up the ground quickly, in a bullet-blasting charge.

Garrett remained unmoved, as the ground trembled all around him. The spitting death spattered into the woodpile at his side. He could hear bullets zing past him, and into the splintering wood. The horsemen were upon him - their high hats and cold eyes were within range. He fired fully at the terrible onslaught. He fired until the chambers of his gun were empty, but still bullets winged their way to him, like a swarm of buzzing bees. One of the bullets tore through his ear, and another pushed into his shoulder. He fell.

In the dazzling clatter of the frenzy another, louder boom was audible. Maria had released the full force of the shotgun into the confusion. A horse was knocked sideways off its feet, and it crashed to the ground, instantly breaking the rider's neck. The force of the blast had robbed the rider of his life, and the horse and man lay unmoving in a hideous heap.

Shock forced the energy from Maria's legs, and she dropped the shotgun, and fell to her knees.

“Stay back! Stay back Maria!” Garrett shouted. "Get away!"

The red headed rider was upon him, and he reigned his mount to a halt, and aimed his gun. The rider's voice was as cold as the gunmetal that he pointed at the standing target.

"You're gonna' get what's due Hobourne! You slipped the hangman's noose once - now it's time you paid up!"

Time stood still as Garrett waited for the instant kiss of death. Yet the gun that pointed at him did not release its noisy flare. Instead, the face of the rider seemed to hover endlessly over him. The face that looked down at him suddenly contorted in agony and surprise. The threatening gun slipped from its deadly grip, and fell to the ground.

The red headed rider slumped forward upon the neck of the horse, with the blade of Green-Thorn’s knife, firmly implanted in his back. The frightened horse tossed the lifeless burden from its back, and galloped off to the freedom of the plain.

Maria found hidden reserves of energy, and ran to Garrett's side, and became passionately intense, and hugged him.

"Ah! Careful, I'm hit!"

"Oh! You're alive! You're . . . " gasped Maria, and her words tailed off as she noticed the trickle of blood, that oozed from the wound beneath his shirt.

Garrett winced with pain, and the Colt dropped from his fingers.

"Please - help me up.”

Maria struggled to raise the weight of her man to his feet. Suddenly the load lightened, and as she looked up, she could see the blooded face of Green-Thorn sharing her load. He nodded at her, and his face creased into a mischievous and haughty smile.

Garrett Hobourne bent his head, and looked deep into Maria's eyes.

"Maria," he said, " …are you alright?”

Maria studied the two men that filled her life, and shook out her long black hair. She smiled.

" … I am now!”