Part 11 (1/2)
A few roughly dressed men moved around. Members of Derek Burroughs' gang, Luke supposed.
As he watched, two of them climbed down from the caboose carrying one of the strongboxes. They struggled with it as if they could barely carry its weight.
”Jensen!” a man's voice whispered urgently. ”Jensen, are you awake?”
Luke didn't respond right away. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't figure out who it belonged to.
The man started cursing in a low, monotonous voice about how they were all going to be killed, and Luke suddenly recognized it. He was lying next to the conductor from the train, who was probably tied up just like he was.
Before Luke could open his eyes and let the conductor know he had regained consciousness, a boot toe prodded him in the ribs, which were sore from being kicked by McCluskey earlier. A much more familiar voice said in a normal tone, ”Come on, wake up, Luke. I know I didn't hit you that hard.”
Luke's eyelids fluttered open. He found himself looking up into the lean grinning face of Derek Burroughs. ”You had me worried there, partner. I was afraid I might've accidentally hit you hard enough to do some real damage.”
The words felt like rusty nails in Luke's throat as he rasped, ”We're not . . . partners.”
”Well, not in the formal sense of the word. But figuratively speaking. We've been through a lot together, after all.” Burroughs sighed. ”When I found out you were going to be on this train, I worried that it was going to cause a problem. I hoped it wouldn't, but I know you too well, Luke. Like we talked about before, trouble just follows you around.”
Burroughs wasn't carrying a rifle. He reached down, took hold of Luke's arm, and hauled him up into a sitting position. Luke's head spun crazily for a minute as if the earth had started turning in the wrong direction. When it settled down, he could see what was going on.
The conductor was beside him, as he'd suspected, but sitting up. The man's arms were tied behind his back, and his ankles were bound together like Luke's. His black cap was missing, revealing that he was about half bald. His face was pale and haggard, partly from strain, partly from fear, and partly from the blood he'd lost from his wounded arm. At least the bleeding seemed to have stopped. No fresh blood was running down the man's arm, and the stain around the bullet hole appeared to be drying.
Not far away, quite a few people were sitting on the ground. A mixture of men, women, and children, the pa.s.sengers from the train had been herded out like cattle.
Four well-armed outlaws stood guard over them, and even though the train robbers were outnumbered almost ten to one, it was obvious none of the male pa.s.sengers were going to fight back. That would put too many wives and children at risk.
Several railroad employees were in the group, too, including a man in a blue cap and striped overalls who was probably the engineer. He looked up at Burroughs. ”You've really taken over, haven't you?”
”That was the idea. Blow up the bridge, stop the train, take the gold.” Burroughs chuckled. ”You have to admit, it's working like a charm, so far.”
Luke looked around. ”How are you going to get the gold out? Pack mules? I'm not sure a wagon could make it through these mountains.”
”No, I have something a bit more ingenious in mind. I'll show you.”
Burroughs reached behind him and drew a knife from a sheath fastened to his gun belt behind his holstered revolver. He leaned toward Luke, but the gesture didn't seem menacing. He used the blade to cut the rope wrapped around Luke's ankles. Then he put the knife away and lifted Luke to his feet.
Again, the movement was enough to make Luke dizzy for a moment, and his muscles were cramped from lying on the ground and being confined. He was unsteady, but Burroughs' hand on his arm braced him until he had his legs solidly under him again.
”Come on.” Burroughs led Luke along the tracks, past the group of prisoners-some of whom regarded him suspiciously, even though he was obviously a captive, too-and on toward the river.
”Where are McCluskey and Delia?” he asked.
”They're down by the river. Don't worry, I'm not going to let McCluskey or that crazy woman kill you.”
”McCluskey believes that's part of the deal he made with you.”
”I don't care what McCluskey believes,” Burroughs said. ”We came after that gold. I told the men all along there wouldn't be any more killing than necessary-and no matter what McCluskey thinks, it's not necessary for you to die.”
That was where he was wrong, Luke thought.
If he came through this mess alive, he was going to hunt Burroughs down and bring him to justice if it was the last thing he did.
They went down a rocky slope toward the river. Burroughs kept his hand on Luke's arm to steady him on the rough ground. The trestle loomed above them to the left. The arching, intricate framework of crossbeams that supported it was intact except in one place, right in the middle of the trestle. The explosion had separated and twisted the rails and blown some of the beams away.
Even though the trestle hadn't collapsed, the train would have crashed if the engineer hadn't been able to stop. The locomotive would have left the rails when it reached the gap and plunged into the river, dragging the rest of the train with it. There was a good chance everyone on board would have been killed. Burroughs and his men would have had to dig the strongboxes out of the debris-and a pile of corpses.
So the outlaw's holier-than-thou talk about no unnecessary killing was just a bunch of hogwash, Luke thought. Burroughs had been perfectly willing to gamble with the lives of everyone on the train to get what he wanted, and the fact that they weren't all dead was no thanks to him.
The river was about a hundred feet wide at the point Luke and Burroughs stopped. Luke couldn't tell how deep it was, but it had a nice steady current flowing downstream. He could see the water rippling in the afternoon sunlight.
McCluskey and Delia stood on a gravel bar along the near sh.o.r.e. McCluskey had two pistols thrust into the waistband of his trousers, and Delia was carrying a rifle. Her blond curls were loose and moving a little in the stiff breeze that blew along the river.
”Thanks for delivering Jensen to us,” McCluskey said, baring his teeth in a savage grin. ”We'll take care of him from here.”
Burroughs shook his head. ”I don't think so.”
McCluskey's grin quickly disappeared, replaced by an angry frown. ”What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?” he demanded. ”We had a deal.”
”What's more important to you? Jensen or your share of that gold?” Burroughs nodded toward the two iron-strapped strongboxes, which sat nearby on the gravel bar with four members of the gang watching over them.
”Jensen deserves to die for all the trouble he's caused me!” McCluskey insisted.
Burroughs shook his head again. ”You're going to have to make up your mind. You can't have both. And you'll have to decide pretty quick, too, because our way out is just about to get here.”
Luke couldn't figure out what Burroughs meant, but a moment later, he heard a faint rumble, accompanied by a splas.h.i.+ng sound. The noises came from downstream, where the river went around a sharp bend, and he suddenly realized what he was hearing.
The shrill cry of a steam whistle confirmed his guess and made McCluskey and Delia turn and look downstream in obvious surprise. Luke had his eyes on the bend, too, but he wasn't surprised when a riverboat surged into view. The vessel was a sternwheeler, the sort of shallow-draft boat that had been used in earlier years to navigate the Missouri River and its tributaries as part of the fur trade. Droplets of water flung off the big revolving paddles at the back of the boat, glittering in the air as it steamed upriver toward the people waiting on the bank.
CHAPTER 19.
Despite the dire nature of his circ.u.mstances, Luke almost grinned in admiration of Burroughs' cleverness. ”You're making your getaway in a riverboat?”
”That's right,” Burroughs replied with a chuckle. ”Like you said, a wagon's just not practical in these mountains where there are no roads, and packhorses would have slowed us down too much. By the time they realize at the junction that the train's not getting through, then come out to investigate, we'll be miles upstream. I sent men ahead with most of our horses to the little settlement where the river leaves the mountains. They'll be waiting for us there. We'll split up the gold and scatter, and no one will ever find us.”
”What about Delia and me?” McCluskey asked. ”Are we coming along on this little riverboat ride of yours?”
”That's up to you,” Burroughs replied with a shrug. ”It's all right with me if you do.” His voice hardened. ”But Luke stays here with the other pa.s.sengers. The railroad will send another train to retrieve them once they know what happened.”
”You're a d.a.m.n fool to let him live,” McCluskey snapped. He glanced at Burroughs' men grouped around the strongboxes. ”I reckon you've got everything on your side right now. We'll play along, won't we, Delia?”
She was tired of the whole thing. ”I just want to take our share of the gold and start a new life somewhere, Frank. Settle down and maybe have some kids.”
”Uh-huh, sure,” McCluskey said.
Luke could see what Delia evidently couldn't. McCluskey had no intention of staying with her, and he sure didn't plan on settling down and having children. He was perfectly willing to let her help him escape, but that was as far as their ”romance” went.
He would be wise to take care in his dealings with her, Luke thought. He had a hunch that ”h.e.l.l hath no fury like a woman scorned” was a saying that applied to Delia Bradley in spades.