Chapter 5

(Earlier, the morning after the meeting at the Pueblo Cattle management Company)

“I don’t give a fuck! I want those two dead. I’ve been told that they keep going into Fountain City with pounds of gold. If it’s true, I want it. Get the men on them and see if you can catch them in the open prairie. It should be no problem killing the three of them.”

“Are you sure. You do remember what one of the brothers did to our first group of men, don’t you?”

“Fuck that. Moses! Send the good men this time.”

“Mr. Wilks, the good men were sent to the plain and none of them came back without their amputated cocks in their mouths, and the words “The Same To All Who Follow” carved on their bare chests.”

Wilks would have none of it.

“That bitch struck me, and I won’t take that from any cunt. I want them all dead! Today!”

Mr. Moses left the office and went to an adjacent building. He walked into what used to be the gathering place for fifty men and now was home to very many fewer, thanks to the O’Dells.

“Mr. Wilks has a job for you. The O’Dells are returning to Fountain City this morning. He wants you to catch then in the open prairie and kill them. The child too.”

“How many men are there?”

“Just O’Dell, his wife, his daughter, and their lawyer. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

The leader looked around at the last five men he had under his command. Between the deaths and the desertions, they were all he had left.

“Let’s go,” he waved at the men and they all headed out the back of the building to where their horses were in a stable. They each grabbed a rifle and a full ammunition belt before mounting and followed their leader out and north towards Fountain City at a fast lope.

It took several hours of riding to finally see the dust trail of the O’Dells buggy off in the far distance. They picked up their pace, knowing that once they caught the O’Dells they could ride back to Pueblo slowly and rest the horses.

As they approached the O’Dells, and still at a distance, the leader pulled out his rifle. Being an old Indian fighter, he had some skill in shooting a rifle from a fast moving horse. He aimed and pulled the trigger. He missed but he had apparently gotten the O’Dells attention, because suddenly they were shooting back. The leader saw the buggy turn, stop, and then two horses rode off moving fast.

The man to his left fell off his horse just after the loud thud of a bullet impacting his chest was heard. The leader fired back twice more and another of his men fell, leaving four of them. Now close enough for all of them, all four men began to shoot. Some shot towards the man and woman riding away and some shot at the man giving them cover fire and defending his position behind the buggy. By now the buggy was only seventy five feet away.

The leader aimed again at the man hidden behind the buggy and shot, just before another of his men went down. But this time he knew he’d hit the man. A fourth man was hit and as he jerked sideways on his reins, his horse hit the fifth man knocking him off his horse and killing him when he hit the ground, his body twisted and mangled just past the buggy.

Now it was just the leader. As he rode past the wounded shooter, he could see the blood all over the man behind the buggy. He brought his horse to almost a stop, pulled out his pistol and shot the defender in the back as he rode past him and took off at full speed after the other two targets.

Putting his pistol back in its holster, he again pulled out his rifle. He rose in his stirrups to steady his aim by letting his legs absorb the horses running motion. He took aim. The two riders were running in a line with the man in back, shielding the woman ahead of him. He took aim at the rider in the rear and just as he was about to pull the trigger, he felt the impact on his back and the spray of blood flying out of the center of his chest.

“GO!”

Those were the last words I heard from my husband as he slapped my horse and I took off riding as fast as I could towards Fountain City. Dewey C. Howe, our lawyer was with me, pistol in hand, ready to fight off any riders that made it past my brave and loving husband. My hope was that Paul would kill them all before they could get to us and then we could go back for him.

I could hear bullets whistle past us, but my main concern was to keep low in the saddle, while holding onto the reins with one hand and clutching Pauli to me with the other. I couldn’t see Dewey, so I assumed that he was providing cover from behind and shielding me with himself. I couldn’t hear any shots behind me and didn’t know if the riders were dead or if Paul ... no ... I wouldn’t even think of it. I just rode hard.

I’ve never been in a running gun fight, but it occurred to me after a very long time that nothing was happening around me, and I was riding alone. I allowed the horse to slow and then come to a stop. It was breathing hard and I could feel it’s chest expand and contract quickly between my legs, while it threw its head up and down in protest.

I slowly turned my horse and off in the distance I could see another horse stopped with a man beside it. I made my way back and found Dewey standing there next to his wounded mount. A bullet had struck it in the hindquarter, and it could no longer run.

“Dewey!” I called out. “Dewey are you alright?”

“Yeah! My horse isn’t. I don’t see anyone behind us anymore.”

“Get on here with me and let’s go check on Paul.”

“Your horse is beat, go back and see what happened. If you can, bring the buggy back for me.”

I nodded and looked down at my daughter praying that she hadn’t lost her father and smiling at her calm demeanor during the flight and chaos. I walked the horse back towards the buggy in the distance coming on a downed man and his horse. I pulled out my pistol and shot both of them, just to be sure. As I got closer to the buggy, I couldn’t see Paul around it, but then found him laying next to the downed body of one of the riders. His rifle was on top of the man’s body. It looked like he had used the man’s body to steady the shot that took out the last of the riders pursuing us.

I quickly got off the horse and ran to him. There was a trail of blood from the back of the buggy to his location. There was a lot of blood. I reached my husband, I shook him and listened to his chest for a heartbeat; finding none.

“Nooooo!”

I collapsed on him and began to scream. Pauli reacted to my pain and she began to cry at the top of her lungs.

After some time, Pauli’s crying brought my mothering instincts out and I felt I needed to take care of her. I stood and led my horse to the buggy. I examined the horse to find it unharmed. Paul had turned the buggy so that the gunshots were towards him and away from the horse, so I tied my horse to the back of the buggy. I placed Pauli in the cradle we’d brought along in the buggy, got in myself and turned the rig around, driving it back to Dewey.

“Dewey, he’s dead. He killed all of them riders before he gave up. He saved us all.”

I got that much out before I broke down and cried my broken heart out. Dewey climbed onto the buggy seat and held me until I finally stopped. I straightened up, reclaiming my calm and dignity.

“We need to get my husband.”

“I know,” Dewey said.

He took the reins and turned the buggy around and headed back to Paul. As we passed the last rider to fall, the one I’d already shot in the head just to be sure he was dead, I grabbed the reins and pulled back hard on them. I jumped off the seat and drew out my knife.

“Opal Anne, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do what I’ve always done to this lot.”

I walked to the dead man and cut open the front of his shirt and pants. The pants were soaked in piss, but that didn’t stop me from slicing off his cock and balls and then jamming them in his mouth. I carved the message “The Same To All Who Follow” into the pale skin on his chest.

“Let’s go,” I said getting back in the buggy and sitting next to a horrified lawyer.

When we got to Paul’s body, I helped Dewey load it onto the buggy before I repeated the death ritual on the nearest rider. Dewey knew what to do then and turned the buggy back, stopping and letting me finish my tasks four more times. While I was doing my work, Dewey shot the crippled horses that had gone down at a full gallop.

When we were done, it was past dark, so we started a fire and I nursed Pauli while I sat in the buggy. Dewey heated some of the beans and bacon we’d brought with us for the return trip.

“Dewey?”

“Yes, Opal Anne.”

“Do we go back to Fountain City or do we go to Pueblo and put an end to this?”

“Honestly, Opal Anne, I was going to sleep on it and talk about it in the morning.”

“So, you think that going to Pueblo is an option.”

“It’s an option. I’m not sure it’s the best option. The three of us,” I paused and looked down at my belly and Paul’s son,”four of us, could all end up dead, along with Mr. Wilks and Mr. Moses.”

“Moses!?”

“Yes, he is the one passing Wilks orders on to the hired help. I found that out from one of the secretaries.”

“I knew I should have shot him when I first met that mousy little lackey.”

“Get some sleep, Opal Anne. We’ll talk in the morning.” Dewey smiled and patted my shoulder before heading off to his own bedroll.

I put Pauli in her crib and lay down on my bed roll, rubbing my son through the skin of my belly, and cried myself to sleep, alone.

(Dewey C. Howe Esq)

I woke to the smell of coffee and the feeling of my penis hard in my trousers. Then I heard the gurgling sound a baby makes when its content. I turned away from the wheel I’d rolled against in my sleep and looked around. Opal Anne was sitting by the campfire, playing with her daughter.

“Good morning, Mrs. O’Dell,” I said softly.

“Good morning, Mr. Howe. I have coffee started but wasn’t sure what to make you for breakfast. Pauli has already eaten.”

“I’m fine with more of the beans and bacon from last night,” I said, standing, with my back to Opal Anne, and walking towards the other side of the buggy to relieve myself.

Opal Anne pulled out the small pot that contained the food and set it on the fire. The cast iron heated quickly on the fire and soon the smell of bacon and beans filled the air. We each took spoonful after spoonful of beans out of the pot, occasionally battling over a savory bit of bacon, until we’d emptied it. Opal Anne put a big handful of dirt into the pot and then hung it on the side of the buggy.

“Have you decided what you want to do this morning?” I asked Opal Anne.

“Kill Wilks.”

“Then I’ll take Moses.”

“It’s good that an honest lawyer should take out a crooked one,” she said with a wise smile.

(Opal Anne O’Dell)

We quietly broke camp and turned the buggy towards Fountain City. We’d decided that Paul’s body should be taken care of before we took care of the Pueblo Cattle Management Company. As soon as we arrived in town, we went to see Sheriff Cleese and told him what had happened. He ordered his deputy to gather a few men to take out a wagon and bring the bodies of the dead riders back to town.