Nightrider's Bane
Copyright© 2009 by The Mage
Chapter 13
"Well, Mrs. White, you have what you wanted; at least for the next month or so. But know this, whenever the weather clears, we are leaving. Now, as I said earlier, you are going to cover all of the costs for the new police force. You will also compensate the families of the people that died tonight. It was your total disregard for anyone else that caused all of the pain that those three families are now going through. Furthermore, you will make a public apology to all of the people of this town for what you have done. If you disagree with these demands then I will simply put a bullet in your head and leave this town to the tender mercies of that crazy Irishman.
"Do you understand? Do you agree to everything that I have said?"
"You leave me little choice! Simply put, I do things your way or die, so or course I agree."
"Good!"
Shaylee then turned her head toward the door and called out, "Burt you can bring our guests in now."
The Mayor and the Banker were full of bluster when they entered the room but the Undertaker was quite pleased—he had seen the bodies outside and knew that business had just improved. Burt followed them in and then stood behind them near the back wall."
"The boy has good instincts," thought Shaylee as she observed Burt's movements.
In loud a voice the Mayor kept asking, "What is the meaning of this outrageous demand to appear before the Sheriff and under threat of violence?"
Shaylee calmly looked at the two blustering men and yelled, "SHUT UP!"
They shut up!
Shaylee, a little surprised at Burt's audacity, turned toward him and asked, "Did you threaten these men Burt?"
"I just told His Honor ... both of them really, that I would throw their asses in jail if they gave me any trouble, Sheriff," he said a little chagrinned.
"EXCELLENT!" Shaylee said with a huge smile.
Burt grinned broadly at her exclamation; but his hand never left the butt of his gun, nor his eye, the guests.
Shaylee then tuned to the Undertaker and said, "M-i-s-t-e-r Jones, we have some work for you. However this time you are NOT going to cut corners the way you usually do. You are going to give these men the BEST funeral that can be had in these parts; and, you will do it for free!
"Now look here, Sheriff, I..."
"SHUT UP! If there is one thing that I have seen in this town, it is that all of you are totally selfish! I have not met one person that will do a damn thing for anyone else without charging for the service! It is disgusting! From the moment that me and mine set foot in this place, you all have been taking from us. Ah ... the hell with this! I will save it for the town meeting tomorrow," she said with a disgusted wave of her hand.
"Mr. Jones, you will do as I say, or this town will need another undertaker. Do you understand?" she said as she glared at the greedy, greasy little man.
Mr. Jones began to tremble as he nodded.
"Good! Now get busy; and remember, your best work!"
The man scurried out of the room like a scared chicken, all the while clucking, "Yes, Sheriff. Yes, Sheriff. Yes, Sheriff."
Shaylee then turned her wrath on the Mayor.
"Now, your Honor, you will call a meeting with the builders for tomorrow morning. This town is going to build a new jail. Also, you are going to call a general town meeting for the afternoon. There you will announce and proclaim that all men will be required to serve as police officers on a rotating basis. Also, that all men will be required to be on call if there is a need for a posse. From now on, all citizens of this town will contributed their efforts for the greater good! UNDERSTAND? Now, M-I-S-T-E-R -- M-A-Y-O-R, go home and write your speeches and your notices."
"But you ca..."
"GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!"
The obese man moved out of the room as fast as his bulk would allow.
Shaylee then turned toward the last man. She began to smile. It was not a nice smile.
"Now, M-I-S-T-E-R -- B-A-N-K-E-R. You, my well fed friend, are going to supply the police with two field pieces for the defense of the town, and you will pay for the powder, shot and the salaries for the men that will man said cannon."
The banker was not a man that was easily cowed. He calmly walked to the sofa and sat down. Smiling in a smarmy, condescending manner, the fat man asked as he reached for the wine that stood on the end table, "Just who the hell do you think you are? Do you think that the people will stand for this outrageous behavior?"
As he picked up the glass the man stuck out his pinkie finger in a failed attempt at gentility.
Shaylee drew, fired and holstered her weapon before the big man could get the glass to his lips.
The banker screamed! The old woman screamed but not for the same reason. Shaylee just sat coldly staring at the man.
"CLARENCE! STOP THAT THRASHING ABOUT AND COVER THAT WOUND! YOU ARE GETTING BLOOD EVERYWHERE!" yelled the old woman as she attempted to wipe blood from her ample bosom.
The banker had fallen to the floor screaming and thrashing and trying to stanch the flow of blood from the place that just a minute ago his little finger grew. The thing was, though, that he was doing that without the benefit of some sort of bandage.
"Oh, come now! That is a mere scratch," Shaylee sighed and said, "Burt, get him something to wrap that up, please."
Burt quickly looked around and snatched a linen armrest coverlet and then bent to help the fat man. That is when the banker grabbed his hide out gun and shot Burt and then attempted to shoot Shaylee. However, the bullet that passed through his brain forestalled that!
"Damn-it! This here is a brand new shirt! SHIT!" complained Burt as he examined his wound.
The bullet had creased his side. It was more like a knife wound, than anything else.
"Are you determined to destroy my home young man? Just look at this place bullet holes in the walls, and blood everywhere."
"Mrs. White, all of this is your fault! I venture that this is the first time that your actions have actually come home to roost. I was perfectly happy to sit out the winter at my home until the spring thaw came, before today.
"Well, Burt, I guess we need to drag this tub of lard out onto the porch."
As Shaylee and Burt struggled with the huge corpse, Mrs. White asked, "Sheriff? Would you be so kind as to have your deputy call on Mrs. Webber, she is my charwoman. This mess needs seeing to and I am simply unable to get around without help."
"Mrs. White, I would suggest that you hire some of the families that you destroyed with all of your manipulations. The women can be cooks and maids, while their children will be able to be your general 'handy help.'
"Come on, Burt, we can roll Mr. high and mighty banker onto this runner carpet and drag his fat ass out onto the veranda. Then we can deal with the rest of that bunch, outside. I'd venture to say that the cold has taken some of the anger out of them."
One hour later Shaylee was standing next to the bar in the saloon explaining what was going on. She had brought the men back and bought a round of drinks. Soon the anger abated and the men started to ask questions. The new sheriff answered all and then told everyone to go home and think on the changes that were about to happen.
The two sisters and Jean returned home and explained what was going on to Edmee and the girls. Next a guard rotation was set up and the rest went to bed. At three thirty in the morning, Cecile saw two men skulking toward the house with a bundle. It was obvious that these men were up to no good.
Knowing full well that the men would not understand her, she called out a challenge to them, while she kept safe behind the corner of the house. One of the men stooped to open the bag while the other opened fire.
Cecile squatted down and drew a bead on the pair with her ten-gauge Greener shotgun and fired! The double aught buckshot cut into both men, killing them instantly.
"Be calm my little one and tell me what happened," Jean said in a soft whisper. Cecile explained everything but added that she thought that there were others out there. Just then there were two more shotgun reports from other sides of the house. Then all was quiet for the rest of the night.
Still, all those in the house stayed awake and on guard.
As soon as there was enough light, Shaylee went out to check on the bodies. There had been six men in teams of two. Each team had a bag of dynamite, it was quite clear that they planned to kill all of those in the house. As Shaylee made the rounds of the attackers, she found that one man was still alive, but just barely! He lasted long enough to confess that it was the Mayor and Mrs. White that had hired them to blow up the house.
Since it was still false dawn, Shaylee felt that most if not all of the people would still be in bed. Without a word she pulled out her knife and gave the wounded man 'the cut of mercy' (she slit his throat). She then calmly walked toward the town. A few minutes later, Maeve noticed that Shaylee was gone.
"This can not be good," she muttered to herself.
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)