Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

64

The first thing Shaye had to do was make a good guess as to where Morales was firing from. He had to pick a spot, one he probably would have chosen to use. There was a rise about a hundred yards away that would do, another beyond that about another fifty yards. He knew that a good man with a rifle could make a shot from twice that distance. Unless Morales’s eyesight had gotten worse with age, he recalled him being a very good shot.

“James?”

“I’m ready, Pa.”

“Okay…now!”

James stood up and took off running. It also made sense for him to be the target—or the rabbit—since he was younger and could run faster.

Shaye kept his eyes on the horizon and saw a man with a rifle stand up from the spot he’d chosen a hundred yards away. He couldn’t tell if it was Morales, but the man moved quickly, took aim and fired, then levered a round and fired again.

Shaye, wanting to give Morales—or whoever it was—a false sense of security, fired a shot of his own that fell woefully short of its mark. Then he dropped down behind his rocks and called out, “James! You all right?”

“I’m fine, Pa.” He sounded strong, though a bit farther away. “Did you spot him?”

“I did.”

“I heard you take a shot.”

“Just to give me an idea of range.”

“Do you think you can take him?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, James,” Shaye said. “I’ve got to take a shot.”

“What happens if you miss?”

“That depends on whether I miss by an inch or a mile. A mile, and he’ll just stay where he is. If I miss by an inch, he’ll probably hit his horse running and pick a new spot.”

“If that happens you’ll have to leave me behind,” James said. “We’ll never run him down riding double.”

“Not only will I have to ride him down, I’ll have to bring his horse back for you to ride. I guess I better not miss.”

“Hey, Pa?”

“Yes?”

“I just thought of something.”

“What?”

James hesitated, then asked, “Can he hear us?”

Shaye had to smile. “Don’t worry, James. He’s too far away.”

“Oh, okay. Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure?”

“The longer I stay a target, the longer you’ll have to get a bead on him, right?”

“That’s probably right, James,” Shaye said, “but don’t be a hero. When I give the word, run back to where you were before, and be quick about it.”

“Okay.”

James would be able to do whatever he wanted, because Shaye knew there was no way he could keep an eye on his son and also take a shot at Morales.

He laid his rifle across the boulder he was using as cover, sighted along the barrel, and shouted, “James…now!”

James’s heart had been pounding ever since the first shot was fired. When he’d made his first run, he had steeled himself for the impact of a bullet. When it didn’t come, he felt great relief, but it was short-lived for he knew he would have to do it again. He was happy that his father was treating him more like a deputy in this situation and less like his son.

When his father shouted again, James sprang up and began to run back to his previous cover, but he was not moving quite as fast as he had before. He wanted to give his father time for a good shot, and maybe even a second.

He was halfway between the two areas of cover when the bullet hit him.

Morales was ready, and when the man jumped up and began running again, he took a split second more than he should have to try to lead him and make a quality shot.

As he pulled the trigger, the sound of his own shot drowned out any other sound, so when the bullet struck him in the belly, he was shocked. He staggered, dropped his rifle, and looked up in time to see the second man fire again. There was a puff of smoke from the barrel of the man’s gun…and then Morales knew nothing. A brief moment of respect for the shooter…

Shaye saw Morales stagger and knew he’d hit him. In fact, the shot seemed to freeze the man where he was, so he jacked another round and fired a second, more deliberate shot.

He turned then to look for James and saw him lying on the ground halfway between the two clumps of rock he’d been running to and from.

“James!”

He dropped his rifle and ran to his son’s side.

“Oh, Pa,” James said, looking up at Shaye, “I think he shot me in the butt!”