The Loner: Crossfire

Chapter 2

Instinct took over, as it always did when danger threatened. Conrad’s hand stabbed toward the Colt on his hip as he whirled.

His keen eyes instantly spotted two men with guns about twenty feet from him. They stood next to a parked wagon, evidently intending to use it for cover if they needed to. Smoke curled from the revolver held by one man, and the other would-be assassin was lining up his shot.

Conrad crouched and fired as the second man squeezed off a round. The two reports blended together into one blast. The gunman’s aim was a little high and Conrad heard the slug whine over his head.

Conrad’s bullet slammed into the gunman’s left shoulder. The impact was enough to make him cry out in pain and spin to the pavement as he dropped his gun and clutched at his bulletshattered shoulder.

The first man fired again, but he was on the move. His shot went wild and missed Conrad by several feet. Someone screamed behind him and he knew the stray bullet must have found an unintended target.

As the gunman darted around the horses hitched to the wagon, Conrad held his fire. He didn’t want to hit any of the animals.

The man he had wounded was groping for the gun he’d dropped a few seconds earlier. Conrad kicked the revolver as he dashed toward the wagon and sent the gun spinning along the street, well out of reach. The wounded man groaned and slumped on the pavement again as he appeared to pass out from the shock of his injury.

Conrad knew the man he had shot ought to survive. It was unlikely he would bleed to death since he was practically on the front steps of the hospital. Wanting at least one of the bushwhackers alive to question, Conrad ran after the one who had disappeared into the mouth of the alley across the street, between a saloon and a hardware store.

All along the street, people were yelling and scattering, getting out of the line of fire. He pressed his back to the front wall of the saloon next to the alley and listened.

He didn’t hear running footsteps, but was pretty sure he heard harsh breathing coming from deeper in the alley. The man was waiting for him. As soon as he showed himself, he’d be silhouetted in the mouth of the alley and the gunman would open fire.

Instead of waltzing right into that trap, Conrad slapped aside the batwings and hurried into the saloon. People gawked at him and got out of his way as he headed toward the stairs at the back of the room. A bartender with a bungstarter gripped firmly in his hand moved to block Conrad’s path. “Hey, mister, what do you think you’re—”

He stopped short and stepped back from the cold-eyed glance Conrad gave him.

Taking the stairs three at a time, Conrad got to the second floor landing in a hurry. Turning to the right, beside the alley where the bushwhacker was hidden, he jerked open the closest door and found the shabby bedroom inside empty. He went to the open window and peered out cautiously.

He saw what he wanted to see. About a dozen feet from the street, the gunman crouched behind a rain barrel, watching the mouth of the alley. His gun was leveled over the top of the barrel, and all his attention was focused in that direction as he waited for Conrad to appear.

It would have been easy for Conrad to gun him down from the window. But when you shot somebody, there was always a risk you would kill them. He didn’t want that. He wanted the man to talk and reveal who had hired him to murder Conrad Browning.

As if the answer would come as any surprise ...

The window in the next room was almost directly above the place where the gunman was hidden. Conrad hurried there and opened the door. He wasn’t lucky enough to find the room unoccupied. A redheaded woman clutched the sheet on the bed to her naked bosom, which was ample enough that it wasn’t easily covered. Beside the bed, a fat, pale, hairy gent was struggling frantically to get back into his clothes.

Conrad saw the anger on her face and knew she was about to yell at him. He held the index finger of his left hand to his mouth in a shushing gesture and showed her the gun in his right hand. Her eyes, as well as her mouth, opened wide, but the only sound that came from her was a frightened little squeak.

Half dressed, the redhead’s customer rushed past Conrad and out the door, obviously determined to get as far away as fast as he could.

Conrad moved silently toward the open window and looked out. The bushwhacker was still below in the alley, crouched behind the barrel.

Judging the distance from the window to the ground, Conrad decided the drop wouldn’t be too bad. He slid his Colt back in its holster and lifted a leg over the windowsill. He had just gotten his second leg out the window and was perched on the sill when heavy footsteps pounded into the room behind him and a deep voice bellowed, “Hold it right there, mister! You can’t just—”

Conrad glanced over his shoulder and saw a big man with a lawman’s badge pinned to his coat entering the room with a shotgun in his hands. Somebody had called the law on the loco hombre who had run into the saloon brandishing a six-shooter.

The man in the alley heard the shout, and jerked his head up toward the window. His eyes widened in surprise and he lifted his gun up, but Conrad had already let go and leaped toward him.

Conrad crashed on top of the man and drove him against the rain barrel, which turned over and sent water flooding into the alley. They rolled over the barrel and were spilled into the dirty lake that had formed. Conrad clamped his left hand on the man’s right wrist and shoved the gun aside as a shot blasted from it. The slug thudded into the wall of the hardware store next door.

Smashing his right fist into the man’s face he drove the back of the man’s head into the mud. The man heaved and bucked but Conrad twisted his wrist so hard that bones ground together. The man howled in pain and dropped the gun.

Conrad grabbed the man’s coat, rolling over in the muck as they struggled. He twisted his body aside just in time to take the vicious blow aimed at his groin on his thigh instead. His leg went numb for a moment, but at least it didn’t incapacitate him as it would have had it found its intended target.

As they fought the gunman managed to lock his hands around Conrad’s throat. Conrad looked up past the man’s furious face and saw the lawman leaning out the window on the second floor. The star packer was yelling, but Conrad couldn’t make out the words over the roaring of his blood in his head as the bushwhacker tried to choke the life out of him.

Cupping his hands, he slapped them over the man’s ears as hard as he could, assaulting the eardrums. The man yelped in pain and loosened his grip. Conrad broke it and flung him off. The man rolled across the muddy alley and came to a stop against the wall of the hardware store.

Conrad scrambled after him. The man jerked a leg up and tried to kick Conrad in the stomach, but Conrad grabbed his foot and twisted it. The man yelled and was forced to roll over onto his belly to keep Conrad from breaking his leg.

Conrad let go of the leg and dropped on top of the man, landing hard with both knees in the small of his back. He grabbed the man’s hair and slammed his face into the ground twice. That was finally enough to knock the fight out of the man. He stopped struggling and lay there gasping.

“By God, stop attackin’ that fella or I’ll shoot!”

Conrad looked up at the lawman, who had his shotgun pointed at the two men in the alley. Conrad was a little out of breath. “Be careful ... with that Greener, Marshal. If it goes off ... you’ll kill both of us down here.”

“Stand up and move away from that man, you damn loco weed!” the badge-toter ordered. “You’re under arrest for attempted murder, assault and battery, unlawfully dischargin’ a firearm, trespassin’, and anything else I can think of !”

Conrad gestured toward the semiconscious man at his feet. “Blast it, he’s the one who tried to kill me! Him and his partner I wounded out on the street.”

“So you’re the one who shot that hombre! I might a’ knowed it. Take your gun out and drop it.”

Conrad snorted in disgust. “Not hardly. It’s nearly brand-new. I’m not going to drop it in the mud.”

The lawman sputtered angrily for a moment, then said, “Stay right there! Don’t you move, you hear me?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Conrad said.

Not until he found out for sure who had tried to have him killed.