The Lawyer: The Retributioners by Wayne D. Dundee

Author:Wayne D. Dundee [Dundee, Wayne D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General
Publisher: BEAT to a PULP
Published: 2015-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

–EIGHT–

"How can we be sure he'll come this way?" groaned a badly hung over Danny Purl, wincing painfully as he glanced back toward town and inadvertently caught a glint of bright, early sunlight that stabbed like a knife into his already aching brain. "Hell, for that matter, how can we be sure he'll be riding out at all this morning?"

Danny was leaning on a low, weather-rounded boulder, steadying himself against the queasiness in his gut that ached nearly as bad as his head and threatened to hurl—not for the first time—whatever contents were left inside him. He was a thin, rawboned youth, several months short of twenty, dressed in wrangler's clothes. At the moment, his normally ruddy complexion was more of a fish belly white tinged with green.

"You heard him last night," answered Curly Krebs from a few feet off to Danny's right on the southern slope of a rocky, brushy ridge. Curly was a half dozen years older, stocky of build, mean-eyed and lantern-jawed with a wide mouth that seemed perpetually curled into a sneer. He was standing in a relaxed manner, tipped back against a tall, slanted boulder with a long-necked, half-empty bottle of whiskey dangling from the fingers of one hand.

"After he failed to drum up any takers for ridin' out in a posse with him at first light," Curly continued, "you heard how he told everybody to go to hell then threw his badge to the ground and announced he'd be goin' after the Selkirk gang all on his own. You think he can back out on a follow-through after blowin' in front of everybody that way? No, he might only pretend to ride out on a trackdown of the Selkirks, but he'll go along with the act at least that far. And since too many folks in town saw the gang tearin' off in this direction, he ain't got no choice but to head this way."

"Well, whatever he's gonna do," moaned Danny, "I wish he'd hurry up and show. All I want is to finish our business with him so I can decide if I'm fit to crawl off somewhere and try to heal, or just curl up and die."

Earl Brewster emerged from some nearby bushes, refastening the last button on the front of his trousers. He was a tall, angular man with a pronounced Adam's apple and the rolling, bow-legged gait of someone who had spent decades on horseback. As he approached the two younger men, he hacked up a gob of phlegm and spat it away over his shoulder. "There," he exclaimed in a raspy voice, "now that I've made room by emptying my bladder and got the cobwebs cleared out of my throat, I'm ready for another snort of that who-hit-John you got there, Curly."

Hearing this, Danny groaned louder than ever. "Good God Almighty, after we damn near drained the saloons dry and then kept on drinkin' away the rest of the night, I don't know how you fellas can stand another swallow of that rotgut.

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