CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We rode back to Dodge through the downpour. I had my hat
pulled low and my shoulders hunched. I was wearing my coat again, the one that
now had a hole in the left pocket the size of a finger.
“It’s sure not lettin’ up, Mr. Dillon,” said Chester.
“No.” It was like the skies had stored up all the water we
had been waiting for all summer and was now dumping it down on us. Jackson was
worried about some of his herd getting stuck in the mud and drowning. We’d left
him and his boys circling them up on the burnt ground that was all the remained
from Howard’s land. Jackson’s men had cheered when we rode by, and whether it
was for us or the rain, I couldn’t tell. But there was one group of cowboys who
were going to have a lot of leeway in Dodge. I didn’t care if it was fair –
they’d earned it.
Then I remembered I wasn’t in charge of the law in Dodge
anymore. But even that couldn’t sour my belly tonight.
We were still quite a ways from Dodge, Chester and me, and we
could barely see the trail. “Ah, let’s swing over by the bluff, Chester, and
find a place to wait it out for awhile, huh?”
Chester smiled. “That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say.” He
hadn’t brought a coat and his shirt was soaked through.
I clicked my tongue so my horse would know I was talking to
him and said, “C’mon, boy.”
We found a place in the lee of the wind, and we sat on our
horses, looking out into the darkness at the rain and the swinging branches. We
listened to the storm as it raged over and around us.
“Well,” said Chester, “it took a long time to break loose,
but it’s sure makin’ up for lost – wow. I never saw lightnin’ this big before.”
“It usually let’s up once the rain starts. I guess it’s just
a freak storm anyway…”
For a split second I thought the sound was thunder. But the
sound of a bullet ricocheting off a rock is pretty unique.
“Off your horse, Chester! Flat on the ground!”
He was already moving, and we dropped to the earth and lay
there, almost under our horses, and stared out at the darkness.
“I saw the flash, Mr. Dillon,” whispered Chester. “It come
from that lone cottonwood tree.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s a bad spot. He’s got cover and we
haven’t. Well, I guess we found out what happened to Mr. Howard.” I raised my
voice. “Alright, Howard! Come out with your hands up! You’re under arrest!”
“Why dontcha come and git me, Dillon!” It was Howard, all
right. He was just waiting for another lightning strike to show where we were
to loose off another round.
I took a chance and stood, and I pulled by rifle out of the
boot on the saddle of my horse. Kneeling down again, I leaned in close to
Chester and whispered. “I’m gonna flip a shot at the tree, Chester. Roll away
as soon as I fire.” I’d kept one eye closed, just in case lightning flashed
again and ruined my night-vision. Now I opened it and aimed at where I thought
the tree was. “Alright, now,” I said, and fired off one shot before moving
right.
There was a dull thwack as my bullet hit the tree. Howard
fired back immediately, aiming for where he’d seen my flash. I fired again from
my new position, but I’d barely gotten it off when a second shot came out of
nowhere and clipped my left shoulder. I sagged back and rolled again, back to
where I’d fired first.
“Smart, Dillon!” shouted Howard. “But not smart enough!”
He’d anticipated my ploy and hadn’t even bothered aiming his
first shot. He’d fired wild, then rolled around to the other side of the tree
and tried to take me out when I fired again, knowing I’d be slower to move.
He’d almost got me.
“That was close,” said Chester. “Why, Mr. Dillon, you’re
bleeding.”
“It’s a scratch,” I said. “But Howard’s another matter. He’s
got all the odds. He keeps it up, he’ll get us sure.”
“Maybe we might as well rush ‘im, Mr. Dillon,” suggested
Chester. “We haven’t got much to lose.”
I was thinking the same thing. “It’s an outside chance,
Chester,” I said. “He’s bound to get one of us.”
Beside me I could feel Chester’s shrug. “Yeah, but this way
it’s both.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Alright. We’ll go in on the count of three.
Stand up, move fast. And, ah – good luck, Chester.”
“Yessir. Same to you, Mr. Dillon.”
We stood. I slipped my rifle back into the boot and
unholstered my pistol. “Alright,” I said softly. “One. Two. Th-“
Lightning flashed, so bright that I was almost blinded. It
was like it was right next to me. All I could think about was being caught out
in the open, standing like a buffalo waiting to be shot. I dove for the ground,
and Chester did the same, as our bodies shook with the thunder that was so much
a part of the light it seemed to rip open the air around us. Our horses reared
and bolted away. We would have a devil of a time finding them again in this.
At the same time I heard Howard scream.
We lay there in the mud, Chester and I, waiting. It was a
long second or two before Chester said, “Mr. Dillon! What happened?”
Slowly I stood. The cottonwood tree was on fire. I walked over
a few steps until I was sure of what I saw. “It was lightning!” I called out to
him. “Struck the tree! I think Howard’s lying over there on the ground. Come
on.” Chester was up and following me with that lazy walk of his. We both
reached the tree and knelt down beside the charred remains of Ike Howard.
“Yeah. He’s down, all right,” I said.
Chester had a handkerchief out and was holding it over his
nose. “He said he’d be struck dead before he ever gave in,” he said. “Well, he
was.”
“By Heaven, I think he was,” I said. Then I remembered using
that expression earlier. “Second time tonight.” I sat quiet for a minute,
looking at the sky and feeling the rain that still pelted us. Then I shook my
head.
“You know, Chester – I think I’m gonna change my ways.”
