A Town Called Sunrise

Things Are Never Easy

Casey sagged, head down, hands tied against the large rock beside his tent. Mule had tried to warn him, croaking and braying, but the men were on him before he could act. Arley tried reasoning with him first, following Landsman's orders, only to be met with cursing and then stony silence. Towes had offered to take over, and an argument broke out among them about what needed doing.

They needed him to show them exactly where the mine was before they did anything rash. Signing the claim over would come later. Casey just swore, spit, and stayed quiet in the end. Angry and impatient, Towes began hitting him, and when Arley intervened, the other men drew on him, sitting him down out of the way while Towes went to work.

Colt reached the plateau and crouched down, his eyes probing the brush and scrub for Casey's campsite. A small coil of smoke lifted to the sky, catching his attention, and he moved cautiously in that direction.

"You beat him to death and we get nothing, Towes. I told you he was stubborn." Arley stood up, ignoring Monk and Fisher, and went to the old man, pushing Towes aside.

"Casey, don't be a fool, man. Tell us where the mine is, save yourself all this grief."

"You want my mine, you find it." Casey rasped. 'I ain't tellin' you nothin'."

"I know how to make him talk." Fisher said. He took out his gun and walked over to Mule. "How about I shoot this mangy critter in a leg - one at a time 'til you talk?"

"You filthy mongrel. I'll kill you, you hurt that mule."

"Yeah? Let's see."

The shot rang out, and everyone froze, stunned. Fisher looked wide-eyed at his chest then toppled over in a twisted heap.

"The hell!" Towes and Monk both drew and began firing wildly around the camp.

"Stop shootin' you idiots! Get down!" Arley dove beside Casey, his pistol tight against the man's side.

"Come out or the old man gets it." He scanned the area nervously.

"You let him go or join your pal." Colt called from his hiding place.

Monk fired in the direction of the voice, then cried out as three quick shots tore up the ground around him.

"I ain't fooin' Rudman. Let him go and you all drop your irons."

Arley called to Towes in a harsh whisper, signalling him to crawl around to the shooter's flank. "You make one sound, old man, and I'll do you right here." He shoved the gun hard into Casey's side as they watched Towes begin crawling away from the campsite.

Colt didn't really think they would surrender, and he thought about shifting his position away from where he was so if Jeremy arrived, they wouldn't notice him. He crouched down and duck-walked through the brush to the base of a leaning pine tree, and watched for any movement in the camp.

"I ain't gonna tell ya again, come out or the old man gets it." Arley hoped Towes might see if the shooter moved.

At the first shot, Jeremy flattened himself into the rock face, thinking he'd been seen. Then the following three shots told him it was up on top and not at him. He hurried up, staying close to the ground as he reached the top and stopped, his eyes taking in the smoke drifting in the sky from the campfire. As he was about to move forward, a snap sounded just off to his left, and he strained to see through the brush.

Towes, inched forward, freezing when the twig snapped. He lay still listening until he was sure he was okay, then moved a little further, stopping again. He was sure he saw something by the pine tree, and he got slowly to his knees, then onto his feet in a crouch. Sure enough, he caught sight of the side of a man aiming a rifle toward the camp. Adjusting his position, he took careful aim and was about to shoot when he felt the poke against his back.

"Unless you want me to shoot it out of your hand right through your chest, drop it. Now." Jeremy whispered.

Towes dropped the gun, and tried to move, his legs cramping in the crouch.

"Just fall back and sit. Any tricks and your spine'll be part of the landscape."

With a few deft moves, Jeremy tied Towes hands behind his back and down to his ankles, then stuffed Towes' neckerchief in his mouth. He made his way toward Colt, calling out that it was him and not to shoot.

"You made it okay then."

"Yep, and one of your bad guys is tied up back over there." He jerked a thumb back the way he came.

"Arley's got Casey and I got one for sure. I ain't sure about the other one."

"They don't know there's two of us. I'm going into the camp. You circle round and cover me. Any sign of funny business, shoot to kill, Deputy."

"Arley! I'm comin' in, no gun, so don't shoot. We can talk, okay?"

"No tricks, Sheriff. I smell a rat and Casey gets it."

"No tricks, Arley." Colt made his way to the campsite, hands well out to the side.

"Stay right there."

"You okay, Mr. Casey?"

"Never mind him. I told you this wasn't over. Now you're gonna pay for Bowie and Splink."

"What about the boys you came up with?" Colt looked over at the twisted body of Fisher. "Still two more somewhere."

"They wasn't as smart as they thought. But you can bet there's guns aimed at you right now, so I want you to convince this old man to tell us where his mine is"

Colt lowered his arms. "Ain't gonna happen, Arley. I'm arrestin' you for kidnappin' and attempted murder. Don't make it worse."

"You got sand, Treblehorn, I'll give you that. But you won't be arrestin' nobody."

"I think we already have, Rudman." Jeremy's rifle barrel nudged Arley's neck. "Put it down. Don't make me kill you."

Mule started coughing again, and almost whimpering at the sound of a horse crashing through the brush.

"Watch him, Jer. That's the other one runnin' off." Colt turned and ran out of the camp. A few minutes later he returned, frowning. "Got away."

"We need to get down to our horses," Jeremy warned. "He'll cut 'em loose."

"There's still three up here we can use, plus old Mule there. Let's get Casey looked at."

******

"Think that'll hold you, cowboy." Doc Staples washed his hands in the bowl and stood drying them while Monk put his shirt back on. "How'd you say you got that? Looks like a bullet crease."

"Yeah? Well like I said, the horse stumbled and I fell off into some brush. Something stuck me and I slid off."

"Hmph. never know what's waiting for us do we?" Doc tossed the towel on the table and dug a cigar out of his pocket. "I'd offer you one but it's my last."

"That's okay. What do I owe you?"

"Wasn't that much to it. Seventy-five cents should do it. Just keep it clean for a few days, then let the air get at it. It'll scab over and you'll wind up with a bit of a scar."

Monk paid and headed off to the saloon. He wondered if Landsman would pay for what he did if he dressed it up a bit. Towes and Rudman sure wouldn't be around to tell otherwise, and Fisher for sure wouldn't be talking. First a good drink, and maybe a woman. See how his shoulder felt.