Herne the Hunter 23 by John J. McLaglen

Author:John J. McLaglen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bounty hunter, gunfighter, winchester rifle, the old west, colt 45, john j mclaglen, jed herne, outlaws and lawmen, herne the hunter western series, usa frontier fiction
Publisher: Piccadilly

Eight

As soon as he recovered consciousness the shootist rolled on his side and threw up. The taste of vomit bitter and fiery in his throat.

When you’ve been kicked a few times in the stomach and groin, then batted over the head with the handle of a pick a few times, you pass out. And when you come round a few minutes, or hours, later, you likely throw up. Doesn’t matter much whether you’re a big strong hero or a shivering coward.

You’ll likely throw up.

~*~

Herne rolled over again, on his back, bringing his knees up a little to try and protect his aching genitals from further beating. His hands were tied too well for him to do anything more for himself. But nothing happened. The hut was mainly dark, but his eyes quickly accommodated to the dimness. Seeing the faint blades of light that darted in through the cracks in the warped boards. There was a hole in the roof and more diffuse light came edging in through that.

He was on his own.

They’d taken him easy as could be. There hadn’t been any bluff, which made it a mite better to bear. The full McKean clan had come running when they heard the boom of the pistol and Jed had been caught colder than melt ice in the Sierras. He had counted eight men and four women, all with guns, dressed in a bizarre variety of dirty and tawdry finery.

The voice from the woods had been that of Artemus McKean, doffing his stovepipe hat with its turkey feathers as Herne dropped the handgun in the dirt. The Sharps was safe on the far side of the clearing. Then they closed in on him. Searching him to make sure he wasn’t wearing a hideaway pistol. It was one of the women who found the bayonet in its sheath in his right boot.

‘Shouldn’t have done what you done,’ grinned Artemus. ‘Guess George has gone, huh?’ Herne hadn’t bothered with a reply. ‘No mind. Al, and George. And now you done for Uncle Uncle.’ He had begun to cackle at the joke he was about to make. Looking down at the plucked skull of Mark Cheyney. ‘I guess that Uncle Uncle wouldn’t have harmed a fuckin’ hair on anyone’s head, huh?’

The rest of the tribe had joined in the laughter, ringing in closer to their captive. Jed had met their stares. They ranged from an old man in his sixties, wearing a pair of stained pants cut raggedly off at the knees, to a girl who looked to be barely fifteen. She wore only a thin cotton shift with the crumbling remains of some dried flowers sewn clumsily to it. She held a massive Walker pistol, cocked and pointed at Herne’s head. As he met her eyes she deliberately allowed it to drop until it pointed directly at his groin.

She found that really funny.

And she had been the first one to strike him. Circling around behind Jed and suddenly ramming the barrel of the heavy handgun into his kidneys, making him gasp in pain and stagger forwards.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.