Stagecoach;Western write 6 of 15

6.

“Mr. Hatfield, please promise these requests.” Hatfield had drawn his own gun and leaned on the window to look for the Apaches on the resumption of their ride. He heard the lady and turned to look at her. Mrs. Mallory looked pale with her hands clasped on her laps.

“If we are to …. be captured, promise me you will kill me first.” Mrs. Mallory told the other. Her voice was cleared and loud above the noise of the stagecoach’s wheels grinding on the hard surface.

“I won’t let them take you alive, Mrs. Mallory. I promise.” Mr, Hatfield replied. “I have two bullets kept in my pocket for the last moment. It will be painless.”

Mr. Bone overheard the conversation laughed out in the drunken stupor. He eased his body to ease the cramps while his grip on the bottle was still firm. Mr. Hitch seated the other side with Mr. Gatewood moved his body. He was guarding the other window. Without the fugitive, the seating was more comfortable.

“Who do you laugh, Doctor?” Hatfield confronted the other.

“Death to me is a friend. We meet regularly and he will tell me how the dead had come. I have never seen a suicide case by the gun just yet. I have seen family members dead by poison or burnt to death. Yours will be my first.” Doctor Bone replied. “Tell me, Mister. How could you shoot yourself?”

Mr. Hitch caught on the conversation imitated the suicide shooting on himself. He then laughed at his own gesture.

“I ought to kill you.”: Mr. Hatfield reacted in anger. Mrs. Mallory held out her right arm to stop the man from starting a fight.

“Yeah, let the lady show you the way.” It was the insult that triggered fights. Mr. Hatfield lurched towards the salesman and found himself staring down the barrel of the gun. He held back on the attack. He was unsure whether the later will shoot. He got his reply from the salesman.

“I will shoot you.” The salesman smiled. Those words were echoed by the drunk.

“He will shoot.” It was the other lady who intervened then.

“Sit down both of you, or …. I will have the Marshall arrests all of you.” The three men looked at the lady who had remained quiet until then. She held their attention with the gun leveled at them. Mrs. Mallory was in shock by the other holding a gun.

“Misters, I can shoot you before you reached your guns.” Ms. Dallas threatened them. “Now sit back and wait for the Apaches to finish the fight.”

“Ms. Dallas, right? Please put the gun away. We can be civilized.” Doctor Bone assured the lady. “Do…”

“My personal life is my own. I won’t answer any more questions.” Ms. Dallas scoffs at the Doctor. She turned away and then asked Mrs, Mallory to give her some space. She felt suffocated in the stagecoach. Ms. Dallas has always felt suffocated. Her whole life was one battle of getting her breath.

Her father was abusive and anything that he could lay his punches was good for him. She left home at her early teens and ended up with a fur trader, shagged for a year before she was left with a bundle for her to sell. She did that and ended up doing the waitress task in the saloon. The money and the cards don’t add up together. It was only three weeks before she took her first customer. She was to become the entry into the oldest profession in the land. She humped and bumped for over two years, suffering the drunks to the turning of the age fools. She could not choose; the money matters.

She was in the saloon that day when the Kid shot the Plummer boy. She did not mind it then. The later was an arrogant kid with a huge ego. He had paid for her service a couple times but the kid was a miser. And a good customer for he could not last long. She saw the shooting and the Kid left the saloon. He had to for he knew that the death was a Plummer kid. She saw then the other man picked up the derringer. It was all in front of her and she packed her bags. She left on the morning stagecoach and ended up in the next town. It was not much and she decided to move on. She had stopped at several places but nothing would hold her. She had to return to the one place where it all happened.

And the stagecoach had to hold all of them.

The Kid on the run from the Plummer,

The gambler with the derringer

The salesman who saw the shooting but refuse to admit

The Marshall who may be the key to the justice

And then the Apaches as if it was God’s way of redeeming them.

A way to have them all killed so they don’t make it to the town.

Ms. Dallas sighed. It was her life script. All messed up and no peace at the end.

“Oh, my goodness. I think I am in pain.” Mrs Mallory called out. She looked at the men. “It’s the baby.”

“Doctor, do something.” Mr, Hitch called out. Doctor Bone looked to his hands. They were not steady anymore. Or his own mind, He saw only death.

“I can’t do it.” Doctor Bone called out. “Not here, Not without my case. It’s up there with the other bags.”

The knock on the roof of the carriage was the signal for the stagecoach to pull over.

“What the…” Bucks heard the call. He slowed the stagecoach and then pulled it to a complete stop. The Marshall stood up to look at the surroundings while the passengers disembarked. He saw it was Mr. Hatfield and the Doctor.

“Hey, Marshall. The doctor needs his case. The lady not feeling well.” Mr, Hatfield called out.

“Hurry up. We are exposed here on the road.” The Marshall replied. It was then he saw the Apaches. There were three of them and on horseback.

“Apaches! Get back in the stagecoach.” Marshall Wilcox called out to the two passengers. It was then when I found the Doctor’s case. I tossed it over but the two gentlemen had boarded the stagecoach.

“The case…” My call was ignored. Bucks on the stagecoach was mentally assessing his choices. He has a choice of either continuing the journey with the overloaded stagecoach and the tiring horses. Or he could find cover and fight it out, He had hoped the Calvary be nearby,

Bucks took the second option offered then. He saw the shallow desert basin landscape and rode towards it. He felt the elevated basin on their back will give them some cover. He lined up the stagecoach parallel to the basin and then grabbed the rifle.

“Get them out, and prepare for a fight.”

Everyone disembarked except Mrs, Mallory and the doctor.

“Mr. Hatfield, Mr. Hitch. You covered the rear. I and the driver will take the front.” Marshall Wilcox gave the instructions. I had to intervene.

“Marshall, I can help.” The Marshall was hesitant and Mr. Hatfield was being helpful.

“He could shoot us in the back.”