A Good Day by James W. Marvin

Author:James W. Marvin [Marvin, James W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crow, james w marvin, laurence james, piccadilly cowboys, old west gunfighter legend, piccadlly publishing, western action fiction, wild west action
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Finally, there seemed nothing to do but press on. If one of them had gone back as a galloper to the rest of the small force, he could have told them nothing of great value. It was obviously safe up to the edge of the foothills. It was what lay within that lowering mass of age-old rocks that mattered.

“We go on,” said Crow. “First sign of trouble and we all get out. Fast as we can.”

“What if anyone goes down?” asked Harris.

“He stays down,” replied the shootist.

“That’s not the way of the Cavalry,” said Dale. “We look after our own.”

“Shit,” said Crow, disgustedly. “You two can look after each other. I don’t give a sweet damn about it. But I’m looking after myself.”

It was with a chilly and unfriendly atmosphere between the three of them that they heeled their horses forwards, away from the temporary warmth of the sun, into the shadowed coolness of the high-sided trail.

Crow went first, with Dale second and Harris last. During their brief halt the tall soldier had tried to eat some dried biscuit but it had hurt his mouth. Made his sore gums start bleeding again, so that he had to keep stopping and spitting out blood, speckling the trail behind them.

It was very quiet.

So cold in the dim light that they could all see their own breath hanging frostily in the still air.

After a quarter mile they came to a wider place, where several trails wound off from the main track. Some snaked left and two went off to the right, leading towards the higher cliffs.

“Straight on, Crow?” asked Dale.

“Yeah. Keep tight in.”

“My mouth hurts like a bastard,” moaned Harris.

“Pain’ll stop soon,” said Trooper Dale.

Not knowing how right he was.

But not quite in the way that he’d meant it.

The first arrow took Harris through the centre of the chest, a second shaft feathering itself in his throat as he began to fall.

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