Cowboy from Hell

Prologue Storm was getting angrier by the minute when the doctor continued to lean in close to him and peer into each eye with a small magnifying glass. “Who are you?” “You know who I am! I’m Storm Benedict!” “What day is this?” “It’s fuckin’ Tuesday!” Storm growled. “And tomorrow will be fuckin’ Wednesday!” “And who am I?” Suddenly, Storm pushed his face as close to the doctor’s as he could get and said, “You’re the fuckin’ doctor I’m gonna shoot a hole through if you don’t stop askin’ me the same dumb questions over and over!” He jerked his head around and looked at the sheriff. “Why in hell do I have to sit here answerin’ these stupid questions? For the hundredth time, I’m Storm Benedict. I live in Thunderbolt, Texas, and it’s 1871! My folks were Ellie and Harv Benedict, and they owned South Wind, but now it’s mine! You hear that? It’s mine!” “All right, Storm, that’s enough,” the sheriff said. “What the hell more do they want?” Storm shouted, and then jerked his head around and looked at the men at the table. “How long does it take for these dumb clucks to understand that I’m fine?” The sheriff turned to the five men who sat at the table looking at Storm with a frown carved deep and ugly on each of their faces. “Are you satisfied now?” “Satisfied?” Clyde Watkins said. “What the hell do you think?” With angry, jerking movements, the doctor began putting away his instruments and said, “Well, I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve given him every test I know of, and he’s come through ‘em as normal as blueberry pie.” “This i***t? Normal?” Clyde Wilkins said and jumped up from his chair. “I’d sooner believe pigs could fly!” “He is not, nor was he ever, an i***t!” the sheriff shouted as he reached over and restrained Storm from attacking the old man. “He got caught in a fuckin’ mine explosion. He wandered away because he was dazed and disoriented. It could happen to anyone.” “That doesn’t negate the fact that one day he just got up and wandered away,” Wilkins argued. “Look, you weasel,” Storm said as he rushed around the sheriff and got into the man’s face. “I can’t help what I did then. I was a kid, for God’s sake. But I’m back, see? And I’ll see you and these other bloodsuckers in hell before I let you take my ranch!” “All right, Storm,” the sheriff said, stepping between him and Clyde. “Hold it down, okay?” When Storm saw a smirk on the man’s face, he pushed the sheriff aside and grabbed the man’s collar, pulling him up out of his chair, and pushing him hard against the wall. “You think this is funny, do you? If I lose my ranch because of you, I’ll cut out that lyin’ tongue of yours and feed it to my dogs!” The man’s smirk turned to fear as his gaze shifted toward the sheriff. “Well, don’t just stand there! Do something! He threatened to kill me! Lock him up, for God’s sake!” “I ain’t lockin’ him up just because he wants what’s rightfully his, Clyde.” He laid a hand on Storm’s arm and said, “Storm, he ain’t worth gettin’ hung for.” Just then, Storm pushed Clyde as hard as he could against the wall just before he let him go. “Bastard!” When Clyde got away from Storm, he scooted around the table to the other side of the room. “See that temper, Sheriff? How do we know that hole he come up out of wasn’t Hell? How do we know he ain’t the devil masquerading as Storm Benedict?” “Don’t be stupid, Clyde.” “The cowboy from Hell, that’s what he is, and if you don’t do something he’s gonna end up killin’ somebody. All right, so he knows the days of the week and even his name. What does that prove? Hell, he slipped out of his mind once. How do we know he won’t do it again?” “Clyde, whether he’s in his right mind or not ain’t even the issue here. We’re discussin’ the validity of the will Storm’s ma and pa left.” “Charley Davis, Storm’s lawyer, says this will is legal and binding, and Storm, whether insane or not, can take possession of it anytime he wants.” “But he ain’t even the Benedicts’ natural son. He’s adopted, for God’s sake. What kind of parents did he come from? Look at him,” the man said, his eyes raking down his body. “He dresses like an outlaw and acts like the very devil himself.” “He ain’t the fuckin’ devil! Will you get that out of your head?” “But look at the way he acts…like he ain’t even in his right mind—” “He is in his right mind!” the sheriff shouted as he leaned over the table, his steady gaze shooting darts. “The goddamned doctor just said so.” Clyde’s frightened gaze darted back to Storm. “So what? I ain’t buyin’ it.” “You goddamned fuckin’ imbecile,” the sheriff mumbled under his breath. Suddenly, Charley Davis spoke up, his voice and demeanor very professional as he said, “Clyde Wilkins…” He turned to the others and looked at each one as he called out their names. “Archie Burnside, Leroy Hawkins, Roy Smith, and Bernie Lawson, I demand the town release this property back into the hands of its rightful owner, or I’ll advise my client to sue the hell out of all of you!” “Charley, not you, too!” Clyde shouted. “You remember how it was.” He turned to the others. “All of you do! Hell, with no word from Storm for ten years, we all thought he was dead. That’s why we took possession of the ranch. Now he comes back and decides he wants it. Well, I’m sorry, but I ain’t handin’ over a ranch like South Wind to a drifter without any roots or assets of any kind.” “He’ll have assets when you decide to take your grubby paws off his property!” the sheriff shouted, his face so close to Clyde’s the man leaned backward. “Why don’t you admit the real reason you won’t release the property?” “What do you mean?” “Hell, Wilkins, you ain’t foolin’ anybody. I know what shape the town funds are in. You even have a problem payin’ me my measly little salary every month. A nice big ranch like South Wind would put Thunderbolt back in the black again, wouldn’t it?” “All right, damn it, I’ll admit it. But that’s a fuckin’ empire out there, Sheriff. The Benedicts owned half the property between here and Thunderbolt Mountain. In case you don’t know it, that’s quite a spread, and puttin’ it into the hands of someone like Storm is a sin!”