Dead men walking, p.1
Dead Men Walking, page 1
Dead Men Walking
The Redemption Trail, Volume 1
Scott Connor
Published by Culbin Press, 2023.
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Scott Connor
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter One
“I don’t reckon anyone’s there,” Corrigan O’Kelley said.
Merrick Walsh shuffled forward to join Corrigan on the edge of the ridge. Below was the station house and farther afield was the town of Hamilton’s Grove.
“It looks deserted, but Wyndham Reed is a devious varmint,” he said. “We’ve still got an hour before sundown, so get down there and check out the building.”
Corrigan nodded and then crawled away from the edge. When the station house was no longer visible he stood up and made his way along the top of the ridge. Then, with his head down, he moved to lower ground.
He slipped past the other two members of Merrick’s gang, Nicholson Lee and Ambrose Nash, who had hunkered down on a ledge. Both men acknowledged him with shrugs that showed nothing untoward had happened yet.
When Corrigan reached the railroad tracks he walked toward the town. Whenever he espied anyone nearby he stopped, but each time he concluded they weren’t trouble. He was fifty yards from the platform when to his surprise a man walked past the window in the station house, although his openness suggested he might not be one of Wyndham’s men.
Corrigan hurried away from the tracks and then ran toward the side of the station house. His cautious action would have been noticed by the men on the ridge and they would now be on alert, so he concentrated on the scene ahead.
He reached the side of the building without further alarm. To his side was the railroad office, a place he hadn’t expected to be close to again so soon. As it looked closed he slipped around the corner of the station house and edged along to the window.
Inside, a uniformed man who he assumed was the station manager was pottering around. With his back to the wall Corrigan waved at the ridge, signifying that everything appeared to be fine and then moved to the side of the door.
Despite his confidence that Wyndham wasn’t lying in wait, he backhanded the door open and waited. A few moments later the station manager came out sporting a smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “There are no more trains today.”
“I’d gathered that,” Corrigan said. “Is anyone else here?”
“No, but why do you. . . ?” The man trailed off and narrowed his eyes. “Corrigan O’Kelley, is that really you?”
Corrigan backed away for a cautious pace, but then he recognized the man and smiled.
“It sure is, Geoffrey Fleming. It’s been a while.”
“It has. I reckon it must be ten years since we last spoke and we’re both far from home.” Geoffrey smiled widely and then gestured at his uniform. “You can see what I do now, so what about you?”
To avoid answering the question Corrigan slapped Geoffrey’s shoulder and headed inside. Geoffrey followed him in and stood beside the door while Corrigan walked around the waiting room.
Corrigan kept smiling as if he was admiring Geoffrey’s domain, although in truth he was confirming that nobody else was there. The only other room was the ticket office where sheets of paper were strewn over a desk suggesting that he hadn’t noticed Geoffrey from the ridge because he was dealing with paperwork.
“I guess you could call me a businessman,” Corrigan said, turning back to Geoffrey.
“I always knew you’d amount to more than I have.”
Corrigan shrugged. “You look content enough.”
Geoffrey rubbed his jaw and then nodded. “I am. I married a good woman and have two sons who are growing up to be fine men.”
“I’m pleased and I envy you. I don’t have no family and sometimes I miss that.”
Corrigan turned to the window, fearing that having given Geoffrey a few personal details he might go on to accidentally reveal something incriminating about a life he couldn’t talk about to an old friend. As young men he and Geoffrey had lived in Independence, and they had been eager to move on and seek their fortune elsewhere, so as soon as they were old enough they had left town together.
During a stint on the railroad they had drifted apart and that had been the last time Corrigan had seen him. Clearly Geoffrey had continued to work for the railroad, but Corrigan had taken a different path, which had started when, after growing bored with the back-breaking work, he’d broken into the railroad office and stolen the cash he’d found there.
Over the next seven years he’d continued stealing, leading to him spending more time in jail than on the outside, after which he’d become more adept at avoiding justice. Three years ago he’d fallen in with Merrick Walsh’s outlaw gang and they had engaged in a string of profitable raids on the railroad, but last month their run of success had ended, ironically in the same way that Corrigan’s criminal career had started.
They had raided the railroad office in Hamilton’s Grove, but their haul had been less than Merrick had expected. Worse, afterward the gunslinger Wyndham Reed had set out to destroy them, presumably because he had deemed that they’d encroached on his domain.
So far the turf war had claimed three lives, two of Wyndham’s men and one from Merrick’s gang. It had looked as if they’d skirmish until one of them was victorious, but then Wyndham had sent Merrick a message to meet him at the Hamilton’s Grove station house at sundown.
Merrick couldn’t tell whether the invitation would turn out to be a trap, or a showdown or even an opportunity to hammer out a truce, but even though he rarely returned to the scenes of his past crimes he could never resist a challenge. As it now looked as if it wasn’t the former Corrigan headed to the door.
“Don’t go yet,” Geoffrey said. “We have plenty to talk about. I was supposed to finish up here an hour ago, so we can have a drink in the Golden Nugget saloon, followed by a meal at home.”
“That sure is tempting, but I have to—”
“Please don’t refuse,” Geoffrey said, lowering his voice. “I can see you’re no businessman and you’re down on your luck. A whiskey or two, a good meal and, if you can put aside your pride, a few dollars in your pocket might turn things around for you.”
Corrigan tipped back his hat in surprise at Geoffrey’s assumption about his current situation.
“I sure can’t accept that.”
“You can. When we were young you helped me out a few times. It’ll be my pleasure to help you now.”
Corrigan sighed and when he failed to find an appropriate response, Geoffrey came over while rummaging in his pocket. He thrust a few bills into Corrigan’s hand and then closed his fingers around them.
With a slow shake of the head Corrigan held the bills out, but Geoffrey was already heading to the door. Corrigan moved to follow him, but then outside two men stepped up on to the platform.
He had seen Wyndham Reed’s gang only from a distance, but he was sure they were two of the men they’d come to meet. Farther away up the ridge, Nicholson and Ambrose were heading to lower ground.
“I’m obliged for your generosity,” Corrigan said. “I’ll follow you to the saloon shortly.”
“We can go together now. After all, you’re paying for the drinks.” Geoffrey removed a key from his pocket and held it up. “More important, I have to lock up.”
Outside, one man was tipping back his hat in bemusement suggesting he hadn’t expected the station house to be open while the other man was facing the window having presumably seen him inside. There was no sign of anyone else, but Wyndham and his other gang member would surely be nearby. Geoffrey then noticed the men and with a murmur of irritation he moved to leave.
“Ignore them,” Corrigan said.
“I can’t,” Geoffrey said, although he stopped. “Our drink will have to wait until I’ve dealt with them.”
Corrigan shook his head, but when Geoffrey again moved to go outside he lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
“Leave those men alone,” he said, raising his voice.
Geoffrey’s eyes opened wide in surprise before he nodded in apparent understanding of the situation.
“Are you saying they’re trouble and you’re. . . ?” Geoffrey trailed off, seemingly unwilling to voice his accusation.
“Yeah, I’m here to meet them and it could work out fine, but we’re old friends and I need you to trust me. So just go now, don’t look b ack and don’t tell anyone what you saw here.”
“I can’t do that. If you’re caught up in something bad I have a duty to try to stop it.”
“You’re only a station manager! You don’t get paid enough to risk your life, so see sense and with luck we’ll have that drink together some time soon.”
Geoffrey sneered and then tried to wrest his arm away from Corrigan’s grip. Corrigan clung on and in response Geoffrey pushed his shoulder and knocked him backward. This time Geoffrey managed to free himself, but with his anger growing at his friend’s unwillingness to take his advice Corrigan took a step forward and launched a swinging punch into Geoffrey’s jaw.
The blow caused Geoffrey to stumble to the side and his head collided with the side of the door. With a groan Geoffrey slumped down to his knees and then keeled over on to his back. Corrigan stood over him, his anger leaking away now that Geoffrey was unconscious.
“I guess that was another way to sort this out,” he said to himself.
Outside the two men were moving closer. So he took hold of Geoffrey’s shoulders and dragged him across the room and into the ticket office where he would be out of the way of any trouble that might break out.
He hurried back into the waiting room and closed the door behind him, but then came to a sudden halt. Two gunmen were now standing inside the station house and neither of them were the men who had been on the platform earlier.
Chapter Two
“Where were you two hiding?” Corrigan asked.
“I hide from no man,” one man said while stepping forward, his action showing that he was the leader.
“Stay back, Wyndham. Merrick will be here soon.”
“I know that, and I can wait to end this for a short while longer.”
“So this is a showdown, then?”
Wyndham chuckled, but he didn’t reply. The other gunman moved to the window that faced the railroad office and the town beyond, while the two gunmen outside came into view and turned to the ridge.
Presently, Nicholson and Ambrose appeared on the other side of the tracks where they eyed the gunmen warily until Merrick joined them. They were beckoned to come to the station house.
Merrick moved on with his men flanking him. Then, for the next five minutes, the group carried out the fraught business of walking to the building and entering it while looking out for deception from their opponents. When everyone was inside, the two groups faced each other with the leaders standing forward and their men lined up behind them.
“What do you want?” Merrick asked.
“You raided the railroad office here,” Wyndham said. “I couldn’t let you get away with that.”
“I’d already worked out that you reckon Hamilton’s Grove is your territory, and I’ll admit it was a mistake to come here. We barely got away with anything.”
“Maybe you didn’t, but now you have something of mine.”
Merrick rubbed his jaw as he thought this through and then nodded.
“We took a heap of documents out of the safe, but maybe they weren’t as worthless as I thought.”
“They weren’t and you’ll return them to me.”
“What do I get out of this transaction?”
Wyndham licked his lips. “You get to walk away with no recriminations.”
Merrick nodded slowly. “I’ll have to discuss your most generous offer with my men.”
“Do that. You have one minute.”
Merrick snorted and shook his head, making the point that he didn’t welcome being given an ultimatum. Then he backed away and drew Nicholson aside. Nicholson had been with Merrick the longest and was the only one whose advice he usually sought.
They talked in low tones, but Corrigan heard a few snippets that suggested they weren’t seriously debating whether to take the offer. Ambrose smiled showing he’d picked up on how this situation would develop. At least three minutes had passed before Merrick moved back to stand in front of Wyndham.
“No deal,” he said and then raised a hand when Wyndham bristled. “I have a better one to offer you.”
“Go on,” Wyndham said while his men rolled their shoulders as they prepared for trouble.
“I’ll lead you to the place where I left everything we took in the raid. You’ll identify whatever you lost. Then we’ll discuss how much it’s worth to you.”
Wyndham firmed his jaw as he considered an offer that was less contentious than Corrigan had expected to hear.
“I’ll have to discuss your offer with my men.”
“Do that, and take all the time you need.”
Wyndham backed away toward the door and one of his men filed in beside him. They slipped outside and stood near to the window. Wyndham spoke quietly to his associate, who turned to the right and left, his demeanor suggesting that something was happening nearby and it was more important than discussing the offer. Ambrose must have picked up on the possibility of deception as he edged closer to the window.
“Stay still,” one of Wyndham’s men said.
“As we don’t want no surprises I’m just checking things out,” Ambrose said and then laughed. “Not that I’m saying you’ve double-crossed us.”
The man retorted with a nervous snort of laughter. Ambrose narrowed his eyes showing he’d noticed his concern. For long moments the two men faced each other. Then the man threw his hand to his holster.
His gun had yet to clear leather when Merrick ripped out his six-shooter and hammered a low shot into the fellow’s guts that made him double over before dropping to the floor. The second man reached for his gun, but then thought better of making the attempt and leaped toward the door.
He was still scrambling through it when Corrigan drew his gun and slammed lead into his side. The man grabbed hold of the side of the doorway and kept himself upright for a moment before sliding down to his knees. By the time he’d keeled over to lie on his back, all of Merrick’s men had drawn their guns and ducked down.
“Everyone stay down and let them come to us,” Merrick called, although he then grinned and nodded at the door, confirming that his order had been for the benefit of the two men outside and that they would do the opposite.
Ambrose hunkered down beside the window that faced the platform and Nicholson checked that the first man to be shot was dead before moving to the window on the other side of the room. Corrigan and Merrick settled down on either side of the door.
Merrick checked that the other shot man had been killed before shoving his body to one side. Then he counted down from three. In a coordinated move they both fired blind outside.
They blasted off round after round, all without retaliation. Both men reloaded and then Merrick signified that Corrigan should cover him. Corrigan tore off a couple of shots outside before Merrick burst out through the door keeping low and heading to the right.
Corrigan followed and went to the left. Only Wyndham’s third gunman was on the platform and he was kneeling down with his head bowed and his chest bloodied having caught one of their gunshots.
Their arrival made the man raise his head and try to turn his gun on them, but he couldn’t summon enough strength and he toppled over sideways before becoming still. When Merrick pointed along the platform Corrigan hurried away.
At the corner of the building he stopped and, as he could hear only the sounds of consternation rising up in the town, he edged around the side of the building. Wyndham wasn’t there and as Merrick had already gone down his side of the building, he moved on.
He had taken three cautious paces when gunfire tore out. The shots echoed and Corrigan couldn’t work out where they’d been fired from, but he assumed Merrick had now located Wyndham.
While the gunfire continued to rattle away, he hurried on to the town-side of the building. Beyond the railroad office the townsfolk were straying out on to the main drag. As yet nobody was showing any signs of being prepared to intervene, so Corrigan ignored them and scampered along.
Three more shots sounded, this time close by. Corrigan stopped and ducked down, but he couldn’t locate the shooter. Figuring he hadn’t been the target he carried on to the next corner where he surged around to the side of the building with his gun thrust forward.
To his surprise nobody was there, but he still turned on the spot and checked that neither Merrick nor Wyndham was close by. Now feeling bemused by his failure to work out what was happening he walked on until he reached the platform, finding that Merrick was coming out of the station house.
