The Outlaws 1 by Brian Garfield

Author:Brian Garfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: killers, death wish, western ebook, piccadilly publishing, the wild west, gunfighters and outlaws, frontier west usa, brain garfield, historical western fiction ebook
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Seven

Emmett, who was now going by the name of Jake Brown, woke up with a throbbing headache and a tongue that felt as if a thousand tomcats with claws bared had walked across it in the night. He needed a drink. He climbed down out of the haymow and walked through the wide aisle of the livery stable to the big open front door. He blinked painfully against the hard drive of sunlight. With clumsy, liquor-stiffened hands he brushed straw from his filthy clothes. There was a water trough in front of the stable, in which he might have washed his face, but he shuffled past it, blinking against the glare of daylight, and made his unsteady way across the street to the saloon.

No one was present except the day-shift bartender, who looked up when he came in and said, “’Mornin’, Jake.”

“I need a bracer,” Emmett said thickly, leaning heavily against the bar.

“Got any money?”

He gave the bartender a foolish look and fumbled in his pockets. After a moment he shook his head and grimaced against the pain which followed that action. The bartender said, “There’s a slop bucket and mop out back. You can have a couple drinks if you swamp the place out.”

“Thanks,” Emmett said without emotion, and moved slowly back through the room. Outside the mop stood in the dry bucket. He had to carry the bucket all the way through the saloon arid across the street to the trough to fill it. It was a long and painful journey. Carrying the full bucket back to the saloon was even worse. His body was weak; he had to use both hands to carry the bucket. He set it in the middle of the floor, soaked the mop in it and began to wash down the floor. Every so often his hungry eyes lifted to the racked bottles behind the bar and rested greedily on them.

His heavy arms sawed back and forth with the mop. For a moment he felt dizzy and had to stop, wiping a dirty sleeve across his face, feeling the gritty scrape of beard stubble against his arm.

It seemed to take hours; and afterward he leaned, exhausted, against the bar and said, “All right?”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather have the money and use it to get somethin’ to eat?” the bartender said anxiously. “How long’s it been since you ate?”

“I don’t know. I need a drink first. Then maybe Hl eat”

The bartender poured a shot glass full of amber whisky. Emmett’s hand scooped it up quickly and he threw back his head, tossing it down with one swallow and then closing his eyes tight while it burned through him. It seemed to settle his nerves and warm him up. He put the glass down and licked his lips. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe I ought to get something to eat.”

“Here’s fifty cents. Take it down to the cafe on the corner and get yourself a decent meal.”

Emmett palmed the coin and said, “Thanks .

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