Showdown in Pine Bluff: Death Before Dawn

Continued from Chapter 4: An Unwelcome Return

Chapter 5

It was early in the morning, during the black darkness right before sunrise, and Edge hadn’t slept well at all. Something had kept him up all night. Running through scenarios. Trying to envision how things would go down.

He felt something outside. A low rumble. Walking out of the mercantile, the Rider stood on the edge of the wooden walkway and looked toward the rising sun.

In the far-off distance were small dots of lights. Headlights of bikes and what appeared to be three flatbeds. And they were headed toward town.

This was it.

The sound from the approaching vehicles grew, waking the people of Pine Bluff to the low growl of raw horsepower and grinding gears. Edge had already issued instructions for most of the people to take cover and stay out of the town square.

If any killing was to happen, this is where it would take place.

Edge double-checked his revolver. It was loaded, and he had plenty of ammunition. It’s just too bad he no longer had his other gun, but he’d make do.

The first two rigs, each driven by a man in a long coat, rolled into the town square and pulled up to a stop next to the Pine Bluff Trust and Savings Bank. Five Hollow Men followed close behind on motorcycles. One of them with a sidecar.

In the sidecar, the Rider noticed the greasy outlaw from the Randolph Ranch. Edge found it to be equally amusing and annoying. Behind the bikes followed one last pickup with two men in the cab. The cargo in the back of the vehicle was covered with a tarp. The driver pulled up under a huge Pine in the square between the bank and Edge’s location.

Each truck parked near the bank was loaded to nearly overflowing with boxes sporting a huge MMS logo on the side. Edge knew the logo belonged to The Midlands Mining Services Corporation. The company – one of the few multi-regional enterprises in the Wasted Lands – was owned by Cyrus Vanderbilt, a ruthless entrepreneur and one of the last remaining rail barons.

Edge recalled that Jim Murphy, one of the men who had gone missing just a few weeks ago, worked for the Midlands Corporation managing lumber operations outside of Pine Bluff. He would have had control over the company’s explosives.

Edge now held a pair of interesting clues that provided insight into the entire situation. A grin crossed his face as he guessed how old Cyrus Vanderbilt might react if he found out what had happened to his munitions. The old man would not be happy.

So that was their plan? To draw out Edge with a simple bank robbery? It was a little disappointing, but Edge knew he’d have to oblige them if things would end in a way that kept Pine Bluff in one piece. So, Edge opened the store door and walked out onto the porch and down the street.

Alone.

The Rider called out to the assembled mob: “Just what do you boys think you’re doing here at this hour of the morning?” he shouted over the dying motorcycle engines. The Hollow Men, who were making their way to the loaded flatbeds, stopped at the sound of Edge’s voice, their heads craning around and mouths open.

Their handlers turned to see what was happening. The one from the ranch recognized Edge immediately and tried to slink down inside the sidecar, making a poor attempt to disappear.

“You boys aren’t welcome here,” Edge continued. “My name is Edgar Wallace. I’m a deputy marshal with the Riders of the Outland Plains, and I’m authorized by the Governing Council to take you boys in.”

One of the men leaned out of the window of a truck and laughed a weak, wheezy laugh. “Yeah, you and what army?”

Edge gave a little whistle, and two men with shotguns walked around the corner of the mercantile. They were the town councilmen Edge had met at Gunderson’s store the day before. The Rider looked back at them with a bit of surprise. Gunderson was supposed to be with them. Edge thought Eli was a little shifty but never would have considered him to be a coward.

Oh well, he’d have to make do with this turn of events, too.

At least the two men who were left were well-armed. Edge had told them that shotguns would be their best hope against a charging Hollow Man. “Aim for the head and make every shot count,” he instructed. “And once they’re down, give them one more shell for good luck.”

Edge didn’t go into details about how Hollow Men have a bad habit of not staying down after they’ve been shot. A safety shot to the skull seemed to be the only thing that really made sure their departure was permanent.

“Ed and Lenny, here are the Pine Bluff Militia,” Edge said to the man in the vehicle.

The threat was underwhelming. The handler’s smile turned into a toothy grin. His over-confidence didn’t worry the Rider; it was the beasts near the bank that concerned Edge more. They just kept getting more and more restless. Tongues flashing and flicking as if in reaction to the palpable fear in the air.

Edge made a quick glance to his left and caught the glint of gunmetal off the roof of the sheriff’s office. He had his own card up his sleeve. Albert was in position. Once Edge had learned that Pine Bluff’s last remaining deputy was also a crack shot with a large-bore hunting rifle, he knew exactly what kind of role the boy would play for the morning’s inevitable standoff.

All the cards were on the table. Now was the time to see what Lady Luck had in store for him. But sometimes the unexpected happens.

Not everybody plays fair.

Edge couldn’t remember the last time he was truly surprised by someone or something – but it happened just then. One of the two overseers in the flatbed parked under the Pine climbed out of his vehicle and approached the Rider with a self-important sense of authority. In his hand was a rope with a poorly tied noose at its end that he unconsciously moved through his hand as if it were some kind of pet snake.

The Boss smiled coyly.

“Mr. Wallace,” he started, looking directly into Edge’s eyes. “Seems we have a little misunderstanding here. We don’t much care if we’re welcome here or not – you see, we agree with you that we’ve spent far too much time and effort on this hellhole of a backwater.”

Ed, the larger of the two town council members, cleared his throat as if to raise an objection, but Lenny put his hand on the man’s arm in a gesture meant to silence him. Neither of them seemed ready for a conflict – especially one that would probably involve gunplay.

The Boss ignored the bluff and continued without missing a beat.

“We’re here to take what we need and to celebrate a little anniversary of sorts,” he sneered. He let the end of the rope drop; the noose dangled by his side.

“I hear this town has a history of hanging uppity Riders. We figured it’s time for another Rider to swing in Pine Bluff.”

And with that, the two other drivers rousted the Hollow Men back to unloading the boxes off the vehicles and setting them against the bank wall. The chicken-necked outlaw came out of hiding in the sidecar and climbed on top of one of the trucks, yelling at Hollow Men and avoiding any actual work in the process.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Edge said through clenched teeth. “What makes you think I will come along with this?”

The Boss chuckled a bit. “Oh, you’ll come along all right, Mr. Wallace. Because if you don’t, we’ll hang the mayor of Pine Bluff.” And with that, he pulled the tarp away, revealing a hog-tied and gagged Eli Gunderson in the truck bed.

“Seems he thought he could meet with us as we came into town,” he continued. As if he was showing off his handiwork, the Boss motioned to the remaining Hollow Men and their managers behind him. “He tried to reason us out of all this.”

The other man in the vehicle was out now and pulled Gunderson to his feet on the truck. He pulled his pistol and held it to Gunderson’s head.

“Better put down those shotguns, boys,” the Boss said to Ed and Lenny. They complied. Edge grimaced. The Pine Bluff militia had folded and turned on him faster than a bad hand at Murphy’s Saloon back in Bordertown.

The Boss stepped forward with confidence. When he was close to the Rider, he reached forward and put his hand on the handle of Edge’s revolver. Edge flinched as if he’d been shocked.

The outlaw smiled and pulled the gun out of its holster. He told Edge to turn around to bind the Rider’s hands behind his back where he couldn’t deal any more damage. The Boss leaned into Edge’s ear and spoke in a low, threatening tone: “You’re gonna get on the flatbed, and we’re gonna throw the rope over the lowest branch of this tree. Now you swap places with the mayor so we can finish this thing.”

Edge had very few options.

With a little help from the outlaw, he climbed onto the truck bed. The rope was over a low, gray branch that, while thick, looked dead. Edge put his head through the noose. The man holding Gunderson let the mayor go and tightened the noose around the Rider’s neck while the Boss pulled the rope taut and tied it off to the tree.

Gunderson scurried away to stand beside the disarmed town council members who stood by resolutely. He seemed relieved to be spared.

Next, the Rider looked in the opposite direction and saw the Hollow Men had nearly emptied the first rig by taking the boxes of explosives and placing them near the south side of the bank. On the other side of the wall were the safe and safety deposit boxes. By blowing a hole in the bank wall, they would have unrestricted access to money, jewels, important documents, and family heirlooms.

Edge thought for a moment and then recalled a small piece of information about M.A. Stephens – the assistant to the bank manager. Gunderson had told Edge that Stephens was among those feared abducted by the Hollow Men like Big Murph and the Ashe girl. Stephens would know what was in the vault.

The beasts and their operators had shown their hand. Now it was Edge’s turn to play.

When the Boss was finally satisfied that everything was in place for the impromptu lynching of the lawman, he gave a shout for the greasy dirtbag to come and take the wheel of the pickup. “Weasel,” he yelled. “Get over here and drive the wagon. It’s time to hang us a high-and-mighty lawman.”

“Weasel – an appropriate nickname if there ever was one,” Edge said. The Boss heard him and laughed in response. And, true to his name, he had an excuse for not helping.

“Be there in a minute,” replied Weasel. He was leaning against the second truck, which was still packed with boxes of munitions and explosives. Hollow Men were standing nearby, pulling boxes off the trailer. Weasel seemed unaware, expending much more interest and effort with the lighter he held in one hand and the thin smoke he had just rolled in the other.

The sun had steadily grown during the morning, and it now seemed to burn off the haze not just on the horizon but in Edge’s mind as well.

He had called their bet. Now it was time for Edge to play his hand.

He took two giant steps forward and jumped off the flatbed. In mid-air, Edge felt a familiar sensation. Everything came into focus, and the passage of time seemed to slow down.

A shot rang out, and a bullet ripped through the morning air, shattering the pine branch at its base. “Albert’s not a bad shot,” Edge thought to himself as he landed on the ground and rolled to his right, pulling his arms around his backside and past his feet, bringing his hands in front of him.

Springing to his feet in an instant, the Rider pulled the gun from the Boss’s holster and, in three shots, dropped the man who had been standing next to him on the truck and killed the Boss. The final look on his face was an unmistakable surprise.

Another shot rang out from Albert’s perch atop the sheriff’s office, and a third overseer dropped to the ground. The Hollow Men were confused, many of them still holding boxes they were tasked with moving just moments before.

That’s when Edge saw Weasel. The buck-toothed dirt bag still held the lighter in one hand and his smoke in the other – but he was looking Edge’s direction and yelling something, the Rider couldn’t make it out. He emptied the Boss’s gun in Weasel’s direction.

The first bullet hit Weasel’s lighter, shattering it and sending lighter fluid all over the remaining boxes in the bed of the truck. The second and third bullets hit the outlaw sending his body into a twist and making the lit smoke fly from his hand and onto the fuel-soaked boxes behind him.

Edge reacted in a moment – diving under the nearest truck in an attempt to avoid the unavoidable. A few seconds later, the dynamite went off in a massive explosion that flattened everything nearby. The Rider could feel the heat of the blast, and then suddenly, everything went pitch black.

To be continued in chapter 6: Picking Up the Pieces (stay tuned)