Friends by Charles Hackenberry

Author:Charles Hackenberry
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590773413
Publisher: M. Evans & Company
Published: 2014-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

I sat the boy up on his blankets while Clete looked at the man who was still stretched out.

"Stop cryin', son. You're all right now," I told him. "We thought you was someone else. We didn't mean you no harm. Are you hurt?" He rubbed above his ear. I took his hand away and found a big lump there. I put my arm around his shoulder and give him what comfort I could.

He wouldn't stop bawling, though. Big deep sobs that shook his shoulders.

"Let him alone a while," Clete said. "He'll quiet down in a spell. This one's been shot. Doesn't look like he'll make it, either. Lost a lot of blood and's been gut-shot."

I sat with the boy and Clete tossed the last of their few sticks into the fire. After it caught up good, I saw the white canvas top of a wagon up on the high bank.

"Did you notice the wagon?" I ask Clete.

"Just before you set off that scattergun. I'll go have a look."

"No!" the boy yelled, and then jumped at me, punching and kicking. I wrapped up his arms good and just waited 'til he stopped. He couldn't a been more than ten or twelve, and not very big for his age either. Didn't take him long to tire out and give it up, and when he went back to crying hard again, I let him go. He flopped face down on his blankets and let her out full.

"You suppose there's someone up there?" I ask.

"That'd be my guess," Clete said, taking a gander that way, but making no move. He bent down and looked at the man's face and then turned the boy over enough so's he could see his face too. "Boy's about the right age to be this man's son, and they sort of look alike." He took a pair of burning sticks from the fire and walked up to the wagon. I heard mules nickering, the way they do, and they moved the wagon a few feet when he got close.

"Anyone in there?" Clete hollered, but no one answered. "I'm a law officer and I'm coming in. Hold your fire." He walked up to the back end, raising his sticks high in one hand and laying back the flap with the other when he got there.

The blast from a gun lit up the canvas from the inside at the same time I heard the shot. I grabbed the shotgun quick and scrambled up to the high bank, though it was dark as hell without no light. The glowing sticks were on the ground, their flames out, just back of the wagon.

"You hit, Clete?" I called over there.

He startled the hell out of me, for he was right beside me when he answered. "I'm all right, but whoever's in there ain't gonna be when I get through with him. Gimme that shotgun!" He more grabbed it out of my hands than me giving it to him, and he blasted both barrels into that wagon.

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