Seven Out of Hell by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman [Gilman, George G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9780450015250
Amazon: 0450015254
Goodreads: 3025905
Publisher: New English Library
Published: 1973-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“WHERE’D you keep the kids before you needed ’em?” Forrest demanded.

Those children old enough to comprehend the danger clung to the women and began to whimper.

“Vault under the church,” Gilda Proctor replied and for the first time she revealed fear. Her voice shook.

Forrest nodded. “Better get ’em back down there, lady.”

Many of the women stared back down the street towards the sprawled bodies of their men. Faith Terry sank teeth into her lower lip as she looked at the blood on her husband’s face. It came from a meaty furrow ploughed across the top of his forehead.

The bell continued to intone its one note message of death. One of the women swayed in time with the sound, as if hypnotized.

Forrest’s voice was a snarl. “Move! You, you, you and you. Take ’em and stay with ’em.”

His rifle stabbed towards the four oldest women. Hoof-beats sounded on the street but the sergeant did not turn around to watch as Douglas led the raiders’ horses up the incline. Maria Marwick rode one of the animals, her hands lashed to the saddle horn.

“Gilda?” one of the old women pleaded.

The red-head was holding a baby. She thrust the child into the arms of the biddy. “We tried and we lost,” she said dispiritedly. “Now we must pay the penalty.”

Forrest showed her a leering grin. “You got good sense, Gilda,” he complimented. “Just keep ’em in line and nobody’ll get hurt.”

“’Cepting sleeping beauty here,” Seward hissed as he began to drag Terry closer to the church.

Faith Terry moaned and her teeth drew blood from her lip. The rest of the women handed over their children into the care of the four designated by Forrest. They were led and carried into the church. Douglas hitched the horses to the rail outside the saloon and lifted down the woman. He led her by a rope with her hands still tied.

“Not the church?” Gilda asked.

“The church,” Forrest spat at her.

Whatever spirit had been left in the women now drained from them and their shoulders drooped as they filed in through the arched doorway. The men followed. A large, brass-studded door thudded closed, blocking the entrance to the vault. The bell sounded louder within the confines of the building and they could see the old minister at the end of the aisle, pulling rhythmically on the rope.

“Enough is enough!” Forrest yelled as the women lined up against a wall.

Seward dropped Terry’s legs. Rhett lowered Hedges gently on to a pew. He placed a prayer hassock under his head. The death knell stopped abruptly and the old minister peered back along the aisle through weak eyes, “I ask forgiveness for my flock,” he said strongly. “They spoke untruths in order to protect what they hold most dear.”

Forrest spat. “They lied to get us killed. Now they gotta pay.”

“He sold us down the river as well, Frank,” Scott pointed out.

“And he can’t pay like the dames,” Bell put in. He glanced at Rhett, grinning. “Unless...”

The New Englander looked at the minister with distaste.

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