Midnight Rider
I pulled up on the reins of the horse I was riding, slowing it to a walk so I could take stock of my situation. I stood up in my stirrups and half-turned in my saddle, not knowing if I should curse the moon above, or thank it. Neither would change the light it was raining down, so I kept quiet for once.
I had lucked into the horse and thirty dollars at the last town I had passed through. I had been able to escape from a train and cross the Rocky Mountains. It hadn't been easy descending to a lower elevation on foot, but I made do with what I had. I reached that last town and decided it would be easier getting to California on a horse. I found one I liked, and talked to the owner with the butt of my pistol. He was glad to let me have the mount, and the money besides.
The sheriff disagreed with that assurance, and got a posse together to chase me down. So as the moon rose to light up the hilly country, leveling into a prairie, I led the group of townspeople through the wilderness. None of them had gotten close enough to get a shot off, and I wasn't interested in exchanging volleys with them since I only had about four bullets left after using my pistol to hunt small game on the hoof during my long trek.
I didn't own all the clothes I wore. I gave my old hat and jacket to an old gambler who had died in his sleep. Unfortunately I had to use his corpse as a distraction to get the drop on the Pinkerton men on my trail. I hated to do that, but it was necessary for me to turn the tables on them.
I heard a commotion on my trail. I glanced back as I urged my gelding to pick up the pace. Whining bullets helped that encouragement as I spotted a group of men rushing down the trail toward me. I thought I had lost them for good, but I should have known better.
I wasn't going to let them catch me. I knew how a long chase like this usually ended, and had no plans to be the guest of honor at a neck tie party. Four bullets wouldn't give me a lot of options unless I could set an ambush somewhere ahead.
I slapped the horse on the rump, as I looked for some cover to hide behind. Maybe I could hold them off long enough to escape under the cover of darkness. That was a risky plan to say the least. I needed to lose them again long enough to try to get in a good spot. Maybe if I found a place to hide, I might be able to lose them for good.
I found a mound in the dark, circling to the left. I dropped off the horse. A slap on its rump kept it going in the night. I readied my revolver as I waited. This might be my only chance to get out with a whole skin.
The posse rode by both sides of the mound, covering my crouching figure with dust and whoops of excitement. I ran forward after the last man in the group. I jumped up on the horse behind him. He tried to turn, but I was already swinging my revolver as hard as I could. I smiled at the solid hit on the bones of his face. I let him drop as I grabbed the reins of his horse. I pulled up and dropped to the ground as the group kept riding after my horse.
I wanted to take a little bit of time to plan my next move. I didn't think I had all that much before they turned around and filled me full of holes. Should I follow them for once, or take off in another direction.
I extracted the gun belt from the man I had knocked on the head. That gave me a complement of bullets I could use in my own sidearm. He also had a repeating rifle in a saddle boot that could be a life saver, if anything was.
Thirty dollars and a deadman's jacket were enough of an incentive to keep moving away from the posse that had passed by without seeing me. That wasn't mentioning the place of honor at a necktie party.
I remounted the horse, turned its head toward the west, and let it trot to its heart's content. I wanted it to rest because of the hard riding it had already had to suffer through, and I might need it later if the posse doubled back and picked up my trail once more.
At least the man I had left behind wouldn't be able to point them in the right direction. That was a good point in my favor, and I needed a lot of those if I was going to reach California. Gold was booming there, and a man could make his fortune if he had his wits and a little bit of luck.
epilogue
Kiley smiled as she locked the doors for the museum she and her partner had renovated and finally opened. It had taken some work, but things were going better than she expected. She walked through the building, checking things before heading up to her apartment on the upper floor. That floor had been turned into a living area so that she and Moe could save themselves rent somewhere else.
Kiley passed through the aisle where Jeremiah Spade and Kid Kelly faced each other in their transparent cases. She paused, certain that Kelly's stuffed corpse had moved its hand to reach for her. She took a closer look at the weathered cadaver. Everything seemed in place.
Corpses don't move.
She told herself that several times before she could move from the twin cadavers. They seemed to be sharing a joke at her expense. Their lifeless eyes stared from their cases as she walked to the stairs leading upward to her apartment.
Maybe it was a bad idea to have the two stuffed gunfighters on display like that. It always seemed like they wanted to duel across the aisle like they would have if they had met when they were still alive. That tension, no matter how illogical it felt, sometimes filled the display area.
Kiley put it down to imagination for the thousandth time. Both men had been dead for at least eighty, ninety, years. They would not walk again, than she would flap her arms and fly.
Still maybe she would talk to Moe about moving the glass cases so they weren't so close to each other. Maybe that would stop the vibration.
Otherwise, she would get a priest in to do an exorcism.