Crow Bait

Thirty-one

Kent and Tyler decided the best course of action was the direct one. They’d kick in the door of Lancaster’s room and gun him down while he was in bed. What could be easier?

They crept down the hall, guns in their hands, after leaving the clerk behind the desk with a fatal knife wound in his chest. They had flipped a coin to see who would kick the door in. Tyler had won, so Kent was upset, even though he’d gotten to kill the clerk, like he wanted.

The floor creaked slightly beneath their combined weight, but neither of them noticed it. They were intent on what they had to do.

They came to the door and positioned themselves. Tyler was in front, Kent just behind him, ready to fire. He could hardly stand still, he enjoyed killing so much.

Tyler slammed his heel into the door just beneath the doorknob. The door opened with a loud, splintering sound, but to the surprise of both men the first shot came from inside the room…

Lancaster was ready for the two men. Because he knew Gerry Beck’s methods, he figured the man had left one or two men behind to take care of anyone asking questions about him. It was the main reason he’d decided to retire to his room early. He hadn’t expected them to take so long to find him, though, and had almost fallen asleep. When the floor creaked beneath their weight, he heard it, because he had noticed it when it creaked beneath him earlier in the day.

You had to notice things like that if you were going to survive as long as he had.

When he heard the creak, he sat up straight on the bed and palmed Mal’s borrowed gun. He had spent some time earlier cleaning it, and dry-firing it to make sure it would function properly. He had supreme confidence in it as he waited for the door to open.

He was not, however, unmindful of the fact that someone might come through the window. He had perched the room’s pitcher and basin there as an alarm system, and was prepared for a double attack from both directions.

The door slammed open with a loud, splintering sound. A man with a gun was framed in the doorway and Lancaster fired once. He would have preferred a nonfatal wound, but didn’t have the luxury of being that precise. He simply fired dead center and hoped for the best.

However, there was a second man behind the first, partially blocked from view, and suffering the same disadvantage.

Lancaster decided to get off the bed so as to present an off-center target.

Kent was shocked by the sound of the shot and the flash of the gun from inside the room, but not as shocked as Tyler, who took a bullet in the chest. He staggered back against Kent with a grunt, his gun falling from his hand.

Kent took a step back to let Tyler fall to the floor, and when he got a clear view of the room, he was looking at a man down on one knee, pointing a gun at him.

“Just twitch and you’re dead,” Lancaster said. “Be smart and drop it.”

Kent had his gun in his hand and was tempted, but at that moment a memory clicked into place.

“Oh, damn,” he said, “Lancaster,” and dropped his gun.