Incident at Twenty Mile by Trevanian

Author:Trevanian [Trevanian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2010-11-06T08:26:29.331000+00:00

“I don't know. It's just that... well, people aren't always to blame for things they do. Sometimes things just happen. People get damaged, and things happen without it being anyone's fault!”

B.J. recalled what he had read in the Nebraska Plainsman: that man and woman found in a farmhouse outside Bushnell. “Tell me what you think we should do, Matthew.”

“Well, maybe we could... we could... I don't rightly know!”

“But you do understand that this man is insane, don't you? And you realize there's no reasoning with him?”

“Look, boy,” Coots, said. “A rattlesnake kills. Not because it's evil, but just because it's a rattlesnake, and killing is what rattlesnakes do. So when you find one in your bedroll...”

B.J. could sense Matthew's misery of indecision, so he took the pressure off him by asking Coots, “If you get a clear shot at the boss, and if you hit him, then what will you—”

“If I get a clear shot, I'll hit him. Don't worry about that.”

“All right. But what about the other two?”

Coots nodded. “Yeah, I been thinking about that. I been picturing just what I'll do and just what'll happen. That's what you got to do—picture it all beforehand, step-by-step, so there won't be no surprises. The minute I squeeze off the first shot, all hell's going to break loose, with the townsfolk and the girls scuttling for cover and crossing my line of fire, so dropping those other two could be messy. Some people might get hit by strays. The important thing is to drop the boss with the first shot. You snap off a snake's head, and the body might coil and twist for a while, but it ain't going nowhere.”

Matthew nodded, savoring these matter-of-fact details, coming as they did from an experienced gun.

“If we had another gun, I could back you up,” B.J. said.

Coots lifted the brim of his hat and regarded him with an alarmed frown. “Benjamin Joseph Stone, you're an educated man and you're a fair-to-middlin' partner—even if you can't cook for shit. But in a fight the only thing more dangerous than a gun-smart enemy is a gun-dumb friend. No, taken all in all, it's probably just as good we don't have another gun.”

“But, I...” Matthew began.

“What is it, boy?”

“Well...you seem to have forgot my pa's gun. Maybe I could—”

“That antique shotgun?”

“Yes, sir.”

Coots sniffed. “That ain't no weapon for close-in fighting. Especially at night.”

“But maybe I could go over there in daylight—”

“Just sashay across the street carrying that cannon? Boy, you'd never even get close. They'd drop you before you could... no, forget it. I know what I'm doing. And it's best if I do it alone. At least I can't get into my own line of fire.”

“Look, you better go down to the Mercantile, Matthew,” B.J. said. “It's dinnertime, and you always eat there. We don't want to raise any suspicions that might bring those men snooping around. Tell Mr. Kane that his daughter's here, and she's safe. Explain about the storm. Try to reassure him. He's an old man and he's bound to worry.

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