The Brave Ride Tall (A Sam Spur Western Book 9) by Matt Chisholm

Author:Matt Chisholm
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: peter watts, matt chisholm, sam spur, cy james, the us old west, best western ebook, western ebook online, deputy us marshal, pulp fiction western genre, western pulp fiction ebook
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Ten

Spur heard a whisper of sound off to his right. It was a small rock rolling down a dusty slope. That could be somebody easing himself down into an arroyo.

He and the Kid eased their guns from leather.

Spur found that his mouth was suddenly dry. It was almost pitch dark and visibility was nearly zero.

Then behind him he heard a faint metallic sound. A gun was coming to full cock.

The Kid heard it too.

‘Jesus,’ he whispered.

The silence stretched itself out again. Their nerves stretched with it almost to snapping point. If there were men between them and town, Spur reckoned they were surrounded. Their only ally was the dark. They had to try and Indian out of there. Which way gave them the best chance? Town, most likely, then they could maybe see men against the few lights of the town. It would be best though if they weren’t forced to fire at all and give their positions away with muzzle-flash.

There was a sudden rush of movement that brought his heart into his mouth. He whirled fast, cocking his gun.

It seemed as if the Kid were plucked away from his side as if he weighed no more than a feather. He almost fired, but controlled himself in time to save himself shooting the boy. There was a faint choking sound.

A hoarse voice: ‘Drop the gun or the boy gits it.’

Spur’s eyes caught the dull glint of metal.

There was a powerful arm around the Kid’s throat and the point of a knife at his belly. One move on Spur’s part and he would be ripped open.

Spur said: ‘All right.’ He dropped his gun.

The man said: ‘Now yours, boy.’

The Kid made another strangling sound and Spur heard his weapon hit dirt.

The man raised his gravel voice and bawled out: ‘Come ahead. I got ’em both.’

A man called out to the right. Spur heard men moving in. It looked as if they were both as good as mutton.

He didn’t reckon on the Kid.

There was an explosion of movement. The man growled savagely. Spur could see little, but he thought there was space between the man and the Kid. The man slashed with the knife. The Kid threw out his aims and shrieked as he went down. Now the pocket Colt was in Spur’s hand he was firing at almost point-blank range at a dim target.

There was a light brush of sound after the deafening roar of the shots and the man was gone.

Spur moved fast. He scooped up his gun from the ground as he threw the little weapon into his left hand. He dropped to one knee and fired by ear.

A man shouted.

The Kid cried out: ‘Run, Spur, I’m finished.’

Spur snarled: ‘Pick up your gun, you damn fool, an’ quit wastin’ time.’

The Kid gave a kind of sob.

A gun went off to the north. The bullet winged past Spur’s head. He snapped a shot back at the flash.

‘Rush ’em,’ a man bawled.

Another voice told him what he could do. The first man got mad and kept yelling for them to go in and finish them.

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