Ballard and McCall 5 by Neil Hunter

Author:Neil Hunter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: colt 45, piccadilly publishing, neil hunter, the wild west, mike linaker, westerns ebook, outlaws and gunfighters, westerns fiction general
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chet Ballard took a long time coming back to reality. In a semi-conscious state he recalled being moved on the back of a horse. Slung over the saddle, his tied-down body jolted and subjected to the sensation of being head down, pain creasing the back of his skull. If he had been the kind to suffer humiliation at his present situation Ballard might have experienced acute embarrassment. The only thing he did accept was the fact he was still alive and that was the only thing that registered. He had no idea how long the journey was taking. He allowed a physical sickness brought on by the blow to his head and the uncomfortable ride. A couple of times he slipped back into unconsciousness and when he finally recovered his senses again he realized it was dark. The loss of daylight and the warmth of the sun had brought a chill to the air.

He could make out the rattle of harness and the clatter of horses’ hoofs on hard stone. The occasional murmur of voices. The drift of tobacco smoke from one of the riders. The smell of horses.

Ballard gave up trying to figure out where he might be. The incessant ache in his head from where he had been hit didn’t encourage too much thinking.

Wherever he was and with whom didn’t really matter. His main concern had to be centered on getting free. Distancing himself from whoever they were. Ballard didn’t let himself be fooled. He wasn’t here for the good of his health, or for any pleasant conversation. He was nothing less than a captive. With no pleasantries ahead.

Chet Ballard accepted he was in a bad position and no amount of complaining was going to change that.

You walked into this with your eyes wide open, boy. Up to you to get yourself out without catching any stray lead on the way.

He had tested the ropes around his wrists. Found them tied snug and tight. Not a pinch of slack in them, so he didn’t waste any time trying to loosen them. If someone spotted him he could be inviting another whack across his skull. Or worse. Ballard figured it better to wait his chance. On the premise one might show.

The sound of hoofs on stone ceased as the animals hit softer ground. Ballard wondered if they might be closer to reaching their destination – wherever that might be. Not that he figured it was going to be good for him.

Sometime later Ballard picked up the scent of wood smoke. Heard voices. Someone laughed. His horse came to a halt. Movement close by. Hands caught the ropes tying him down, freeing the knots. Ballard was hauled off the horse and unceremoniously slung to the ground.

‘Son of a bitch,’ someone said. ‘He’s one of those damn Texans. Pair who were in town.’

Another voice. ‘Get him on his feet.’

Ballard was hauled upright. Found himself facing a group of distinctly unfriendly faces.

One of them was Orrin Blanchard.

‘He don’t look all that big now.

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