A Man Called Diablo by E. Jefferson Clay

Author:E. Jefferson Clay [Clay, E. Jefferson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action adventure, action hero, American Old West, cowboys, Gunfighters, Piccadilly Publishing, Western ebook
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2022-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Brazos gripped the bars of the cell door so hard that the knuckles seemed near to bursting through the skin. His eyes were fixed on Benedict’s motionless figure in the opposite cell. He lay where they had flung him, arms outstretched, bloodied face turned towards Brazos. He was as still as death.

“Mother of God!” a voice groaned in lament from the adjoining cell. “Now they will hang the great Diablo so high he will surely die of the cold if the evil rope does not kill him. So brave my loyal soldiers and so bitter their failure.” Diablo’s voice rose. “And all because of your great amigo. All lost because of this one man. May he die, I say.”

Brazos’ eyes looked like sparks coming off flint as he jerked his head around. El Diablo was standing close to the bars. Too close.

Three swift strides carried Brazos across the cell. Seeing his expression, Diablo reared back but the brawny hand that reached between the bars was too quick. Twisting his fingers in the man’s shirtfront, Brazos hauled him forward, then drove his right fist through the bars straight into Diablo’s face.

Blood sprayed and El Diablo, hope of the hopeless and rebel hero beyond compare, went down like a sack.

“Madre!” he cried as his back hit the floor. Then as he somersaulted and banged his shins against the wall: “De Dios!”

“Maybe that’ll shut your mewlin’ mouth,” the Texan snarled, then swung as steps sounded in the corridor and Garcia appeared, followed by two deputies.

Garcia took in the scene at a glance. “So now the scum fight between themselves—”

“See here, Garcia,” Brazos cut him off angrily, “Benedict is hurt and needs a doctor. You can’t just leave him lie there.”

“He is alive,” Garcia said coldly. “He is luckier than the three who died in the alley. He is luckier than any outlaw has a right to be.”

“He needs a doctor, goddamn it!”

Garcia fingered the bloodied bandage on his left arm as he turned his head to look at Benedict. The sheriff had taken a bullet rip in the clash that had claimed the lives of three rebels and one deputy. Garcia had remained at the jailhouse while his men drove the tattered rebel survivors from the town an hour earlier. The man’s fury had abated and now he could afford to indulge in the luxury of triumph.

“If he dies it will save us the job of hanging him,” he said. He stared at Brazos. “But perhaps I shall hang him alive or dead.”

“What for?” Brazos challenged. “You don’t even know what happened out there.”

“Of course we know, gringo pig. Benedict and his henchman came here by stealth to try and free you, and their arrival coincided with the attack by the bandido scum who were attempting the same impossible task for him.” He indicated the bloody-faced Diablo who had struggled to his feet. “It would seem that even fortune is set against you, as well as justice.”

“What would you know about justice?” Brazos said wearily.

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