The Last Notch by Arnold Hano

Author:Arnold Hano [Hano, Arnold]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Western
ISBN: 9781944520311
Publisher: Stark House Press
Published: 2018-01-09T11:00:00+00:00

7

The Kid forded the Pintada just before sundown, moving with unconscious grace, the sun glinting from his left front and bouncing off the glowing unlined face, the soft and beardless skin. He had watched the tiny dust spiral move along the river, sheltered at times by the cottonwoods but always visible to any one who wished to watch. And when the spiral was obscured, The Kid had spurred the gray mare until they stood on a high mesa, watching for the big rider and his gelding to come back into view. It had been shockingly easy, because Slattery hadn’t seemed to care.

The Kid’s face broke into a tiny sneer, scorn for the big man. This was Ben Slattery, a greenhorn, leaving a trail like the arroyos that cut deep furrows along the brown rocky soil of the sheep towns.

There was only one place Slattery was going. There was only one thing out there, in the direction Slattery rode: the capital. And in the capital there could be only one thing Slattery wanted: amnesty. Slattery had lied to The Kid, and The Kid was glad he had. There was no swerving now; it was a duel, and The Kid was even more glad that Slattery had showed him how good he was, with that trick shooting in One-Eye McCall’s saloon. It would be no pushover, The Kid knew, and that was good. It had been a long time—in The Kid’s way of marking time—that he hadn’t had a pushover. He remembered the Texan named Brant who’d been the last—number nineteen. He’d kept up his promise, one for every year of his life. He was ahead of his promise. Eighteen years—nineteen kills. Slattery would be number twenty, unless somebody else got in his way before.

Slattery would be better than number nineteen had been, better, probably, than any of them had been. Brant had been a fool, a Texan who thought like all Texans, that he was God’s gift to the gun. He challenged The Kid in a barroom full of Texans, figuring The Kid wouldn’t dare move. So The Kid had said “All right” and he put his hands behind his back. The giggle started to break through, pitched up almost scream-high, and Brant had goggled at him, not quite believing The Kid was really dueling him, with his hands behind his back that way. So Brant moved slow, not wanting to break the tableau of The Kid, motionless, defenseless. And The Kid waited until Brant’s right hand, all fumble and jitter, reached his holster. Then The Kid moved, and Brant started to tremble, seeing The Kid’s right hand like a streak of light. Brant got his gun out, fell to his knees, grabbing the gun with both hands to hold it steady and The Kid kept right on giggling, laughing now, tears spilling down his cheeks. He shot Brant four times in the throat. The man’s head had bent back like a twisted chicken’s.

Then The Kid stopped laughing and looked at the shocked crowd.

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.