Caleb Jackson - Cover

Caleb Jackson

Copyright© 2007 by aubie56

Chapter 16

Caleb had now successfully established himself outside the coach, so he was a force to be reckoned with, the attackers just didn't know it yet. As far as Caleb knew, there were 7 attackers left, so he had to be careful not to be ambushed, himself, in a moment of inattention. It occurred to Caleb that the sudden silencing of one of the attacking guns might be noticed, so it seemed prudent to switch back to using the pistol in his hunt.

Caleb had noticed, from the sound of the guns, that the criminals were using Navy Colts, rather than the .44s that the lawmen were using. Therefore, he stripped the dead man's weapon from him, reloaded, and began stalking the next man in line. This galoot was hiding behind some water barrels, so he would be a relatively easy target, once Caleb got into position. Since he was not really familiar with this particular Navy Colt, and all guns were slightly different in feel, Caleb wanted his first few shots to be sure things.

It was a good thing that Caleb had taken that attitude, because this gun turned out to have a hair trigger. He had hardly gotten into position and taken aim when the gun fired as Caleb took up the slack in the trigger. Caleb was quite close to his quarry, about 15 feet, when the gun went off, yet he only slightly wounded the man. Fortunately, the man Caleb had shot was so surprised that he was slow to react, though he did reflexively jump to one side. Caleb still had time to line up his second shot and drill the other man through a lung. However, the man was still dangerous, so Caleb shot him again, this time in the head.

Shit! Three shots and three hits, yet the man was just now rendered unable to fight. To hell with this pipsqueak pistol! Caleb switched back to his .44 Remington with no regrets. He appreciated the feel of the heaver gun; it just felt more natural. Besides, he knew what to expect from the trigger action, no surprises there.

The odds were beginning to even up, as Caleb crept toward his next target. Just as he was getting into position, the man screamed and fell back. One of the shooters in the coach had found his mark. The wretch was bleeding heavily from a shattered right shoulder. The bullet had hit him right in the joint and had blown it into small pieces. An artery must have been torn open, from the way the blood was spurting. Caleb started looking for his next target since this man had very little time to live.

Caleb waved to his friends in the coach and moved on to his next prospect. This man had built himself a veritable fort! He had enclosed himself in bales of hay, such that he could not be seen from any direction except when he was shooting. Normally, this would have been a tough nut to crack, but Caleb came up with a simple solution: he started a fire. He sneaked up on the blind rear of the ring of hay bales and lit one. Caleb stepped back and watched the fire catch. It didn't take long for the man inside to notice some added warmth, plus, he could smell smoke.

Caleb sat back on his heels and waited for the man to kick down the wall of hay in preparation for escape. Caleb had a wait of about 5 minutes before the hay wall came tumbling down. Without ceremony, Caleb shot the man inside as soon as he became visible. He was glad he had used his .44; he only needed the one shot!

Another gang member was accounted for, that left only 5 to be knocked out of the fight. This resulted in a marked reduction in the number of bullets being fired at the coach, and everybody on both sides noticed the change. The rest of the gang members were beginning to wonder what had happened to their fellows; it had been 40 minutes since Caleb had eliminated the first man, and nobody took that long to reload, even the most fumble-fingered.

Caleb was already stalking his next man, but, by now, had worked his way around to the relay station office and restaurant. He thought to take a minute to see to the people inside, as he was sure that the regular station crew must be in there. Somebody might need help, so he carefully stuck his head around the door jamb. He nearly threw up when he did!

The gang members had amused themselves while they waited for the coach to arrive by torturing and raping the people they had captured. There were 5 dead people that he could see in the building, 3 men and 2 women. The place was a bloody mess, and Caleb vowed to kill every one of the bastards who had done this totally unnecessary carnage.

Caleb got himself under control and continued the hunt for his next monster, for Caleb could no longer think of them as men.

The next gang member he found was comfortably ensconced on a cushion and eating from a can of beans as he occasionally took a shot at the general area of the coach. Amazingly enough, he was not bothering to take aim, but was just firing off his pistol in the general direction of the coach. He, obviously, was taking no chances of being shot, himself, but he was putting up a show for the other gang members. Caleb took pleasure in popping this monster in the gut with his first shot, right on top of the swallowed beans! He looked to be safely out of action permanently, so Caleb moved on.

Caleb had now removed all of the opposition from the left side of the coach, so he waved to the men at the coach as he ran up to it. He pulled the door open and waved Jake outside to join him in the hunt. The two lawmen began working together as they stalked the remaining 4 gang members. Jake had brought his Henry with him as he slipped out of the coach, so he had some longer range firepower in case they needed it. He carried the Henry in his left hand and his .44 in his right. They both knew from the puffs of smoke where to find the remaining gang members, so the problem now had settled into one of killing them without being killed, themselves.

As they approached the next gang firing position, they realized that there had to be two men in it, judging from the amount of powder smoke and the number of shots coming from it. This firing position was partially constructed from the fence separating the relay station from the road. It was more a decorative fence than anything else, but it was substantial enough to stop pistol bullets from a Navy Colt. This gave the gang members hiding behind the fence a false sense of security, because the bullets from either the Henry rifle or the .44 caliber Dragoon pistols at close range would go plowing through as if the fence were made of so much cheese.

With this in mind, the two lawmen found a good firing position close to the enemy and opened up with their pistols. They both used both hands to hold their pistols steady as they fired as rapidly as they could draw a bead. Two holes appeared in the fence as wood was blasted away, and multiple holes appeared in the men hiding behind the fence as lead and wood chips came flying at them. This certainly was a quick and easy job of clearing out this nest; now, if the last two gang members would be just as cooperative.

The two lawmen had stopped to reload their pistols when the last two gang members broke from their hiding places and ran toward the corral. Their obvious intent was to mount their horses and escape before they, too, were killed. No such luck! As soon as they took off for the stable, they put themselves in full view of Sam and Bill Sykes, the driver, from the top of the coach. Both men were good shots and they had no trouble in blasting the last of the ambushers.

Caleb and Jake went back to check on the two prisoners left inside the coach and found them cowering as much as they could, considering that they were chained in place on the bench. In their fright, both men had emptied their bladders and their bowels, so the smell was almost intolerable inside the coach. They were released long enough to clean up themselves and the coach interior under Jake's supervision, while Caleb, Sam, and Bill pulled the dead mules out of the way and replaced the team with a new set of mules. The dead prisoner was dumped out of the coach, and they were finally ready to resume their journey to Austin.

The remainder of the journey to Austin could not be called pleasant, but it was not as tense as it had been prior to the ambush. They could relax somewhat, on the assumption that the rest of the gang was dead and there would be no more ambushes. The two living prisoners were delivered to Judge Hughes and were hanged two days later. There was nothing to keep the three lawmen in Austin, so they rode the chartered coach back to a town near their homes, where they got other transportation the rest of the way.

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