Johnny Montana by Michael Zimmer

Author:Michael Zimmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2013-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

The clouds closed in again and the breeze died, but Johnny held no illusions about having been spotted by Cutter’s men. Against these white hills, he and Allie must have stood out like banners.

By now, the snow was almost stirrup deep, and the horses’ strength was waning. In frustration, Johnny dismounted to forge his own path for a while, but it was largely a wasted effort; within half an hour, he was back beside the Appaloosa, sweat dripping off the end of his nose.

“You’ll kill yourself that way,” Allie said.

“We’ll both die if we don’t start making better time.”

“We’ve started downhill,” she said quietly.

Looking around, he saw that she was right. The land was definitely sloping to the south, with pines in view on both sides of the road. Behind them, the rounded summit of Monida Pass reminded Johnny of the top of a huge bald head, seen from the rear.

“Sure enough,” he said, grinning.

“If I remember correctly, it’s shorter going down this side.”

“Shorter, but rougher and steeper, is what I was told.”

“Does that matter?”

“Not if it gets us out of this high country any quicker.” He gathered his reins above the Appaloosa’s neck, then stretched his toe for the stirrup. The back of his thigh cramped in protest, but he ignored it and heaved into the saddle.

Allie took the lead, and they finally began to make better time. Johnny kept the bay close, his focus more to the rear than forward. It was just coming onto dark when he caught his next sight of the trailing Cut-throats. It wasn’t much more than a glimpse of a lone horseman appearing out of yet another thickening fog, but he called a warning to Allie. By the time she looked, the rider had vanished back into the low clouds.

“What did you see?” she demanded. “Was it Tucker?”

A shot whuffled past on their left, the sound of its report dull in the heavy air.

“Keep riding,” Johnny said, bringing the Hawken to the cradle of his left arm. There was a shout from behind them, then several more shots pierced the twilight. Finally someone called out with authority to stop shooting at what they couldn’t see. Johnny recognized the voice immediately, even though he’d only heard it once before, in Ruby City. It was Otis Call.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Johnny murmured, wheeling after Allie.

The tall pines continued to funnel in on either side, creating a narrow, serpentine corridor that seemed to suck up the remaining daylight. They’d gone no more than another hundred yards when the shooting started anew. Pulling the bay close, Johnny looped its lead rope around the saddle horn, then chased it ahead. “Keep moving!” he called to Allie. “I’ll slow them down.”

She glanced wildly over her shoulder. “I can help. Two guns would be better than one.”

“No, keep riding. I want you breaking trail.”

She nodded her understanding and kicked the dun into a swifter pace, the bay following hesitantly. Dismounting, Johnny draped the Appaloosa’s reins over an alder poking out of the snow along the road, then walked into the middle of the wagon trace and sank down on one knee.

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