No One Can Hide

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

“I’ll swear in a posse and run them down before sundown.” Roose worked fresh cartridges into the Henry. He was breathing hard, his anger clear for all to see.

People began to gather around, staring at the bodies, muttering among themselves, commenting on how awful it all was, that such a lovely day could have ended in such a murderous way.

“We need to get these bodies off the street and go check the bank first,” said Cole. “Put two armed men outside while we go inside.”

Singling out two young men, both wearing tied down guns at their hips, Roose pointed to the bank. “Anyone but us comes out, you shoot ‘em.”

Appalled, the two young men exchanged nervous glances. Cole chuckled, “Don’t worry, boys, I very much doubt there are any desperados left inside.”

“Even so,” muttered Roose.

“Even so, you just do what you can.” Flashing them a wink, Cole inched forwards, alert, carbine ready. Roose scooted past, slamming himself against the wall adjacent to the entrance. He carefully propped the Henry beside him and drew his Colt Cavalry. Nodding to Cole, he eased back the hammer.

Cole went inside, sweeping the room with his Winchester. The three tellers behind the counter had their arms stretched upwards with such strain it looked like they were in pain. Cole pressed a single finger to his lips, gesturing with the Winchester for them to lower their hands. He scanned the rest of the room and, satisfied, lay down his carbine and pulled out his revolver. One of the tellers slowly pulled up the hatch to allow him to slip behind the counter. Cole went to the bank manager’s office.

The door was part-open, and, using his foot, he pushed it wide, his g*n ready.

There was paper money all over the floor, a lot of it splattered with fresh blood. Against the far wall, a man, clearly dead with his open eyes staring into space, a look of abject bewilderment etched across his frozen face.

A trail of more blood led to the rear entrance, usually heavily bolted with two thick iron bars giving further security. Everything was hanging open, the locks released by one of the keys from a bunch thrown onto the floor.

“He used my keys,” explained a well-dressed and badly beaten man slumped in the corner, his mouth so swollen his words were barely recognizable.

Lowering himself to one knee, Cole peered through the c***k in-between the door and the jam.

“The other one shot him.”

Cole arched a single eyebrow and gave him a questioning glance.

“Young fella, very tall. He shot the both of them. They wanted to kill me, but he stopped them.” He tried to sit upright but failed and, letting out a long wail of pain, slumped back down. “He saved my life.”

“But only wounded the one who got away.”

“Yes. Perhaps he was hoping you’d arrest him, throw him in jail.”

“Why do that when there would be a chance he’d tell us everything he knows about the g**g – their hideout, who they are, where they planned on headin’?”

“Who knows? Mister Cole, could you please send for a doctor? I’m not sure how much more of this pain I can take.”

Returning his Colt to its holster, Cole stood and headed outside, picking up his carbine before gesturing the tellers to follow close behind.

“Anything?” asked Roose, visibly relaxing as Cole stepped up beside him.

“One dead, shot by one of his own according to the bank manager, who needs a doctor by the way. The other one he shot managed to get away. He’ll be riding hell-for-leather to meet up with the rest of ‘em.” He nodded to the two young would-be gunslingers. “Thanks, boys, we won’t be needing you today.”

Looking relieved, they slinked away and headed towards the nearest saloon.

Roose watched them move away, then said, “Do we know which one did the shootin’?”

Cole scanned the many bodies sprawled out in the street. “Could be any one of ‘em. The only witness we have, the manager, won’t be able to confirm anything until the doc’s checked him over.”

“If he’s one of the ones who got away, there’ll be a reckoning.” Roose chuckled. “They might even do our job for us.”

“Somewhat wishful thinking there, Sterling. You’ll need to hunt ‘em down and bring ‘em in, then we can get to the bottom of this damned fiasco.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Sterling, I’ve done my duty for the day,” he sighed. “I’m supposed to be retired, remember?”

“You’re too young to retire – besides, I need you.”

“Nah, you don’t need me, Sterling. You can call on Brown Owl, the Arapaho. He’s the best tracker there is.”

“Except he’s not – you is.”

“That’s gracious of you, you old skunk,” he grinned, “but I need to get back to Pa’s place. He ain’t too well. I’m not sure he’s gonna be around much longer.”

Deep in thought, Roose swung away for a moment. Already, bodies were being covered in white shrouds. Several burly men lifted them and stacked them in the back of a flat-bed wagon, destined for the undertakers.

“All right, Cole, if that’s how it is.”

“You’re in safe hands with Brown Owl. He’s a good friend, dependable and honest. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember so I have no worries about placing you in his good hands.”

“Yeah, but I’ll miss you, Cole.”

“Now, don’t get all maudlin on me, Sterling. How hard can it be to track down such an incompetent bunch as this?”

“Not very.”

“Well, there you go. I’ll see you back here in less than two days. Trust me.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Roose and moved away, calling to several men lingering close by.

Cole watched his old friend swear in the men as deputies and couldn’t prevent a shudder running through him, his sense of foreboding growing by the second. He couldn’t understand why, but perhaps none of this was going to be as straightforward as he’d said it would.