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Authors: BERNARD SCHAFFER

Tags: #WESTERN

Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (7 page)

BOOK: Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6
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“Sure there is,” the tallest one said.
 
“You belong to us and nobody else messes with you.
 
There’s a lot of angry people in here, Bob.
 
It’s best to have friends.”

 

“We are not friends,” Bob said.
 

 

“No,” the tall one said.
 
“I suppose not.”

 

They all rushed forward at him at once, coming from every direction, expecting him to start swinging his makeshift weapon.
 
Bob flung the towel and soap bar at the tall one and hit him with a lucky shot that smashed him right in the mouth.
 

 

The other two grabbed Bob, the fat one putting his beefy arm around Bob’s throat and the other taking hold of his wrist.
 
Bob relaxed, letting them move his body, letting them get close enough to him.
 
He felt the fat one’s rolls of flesh against his back and reached back behind his legs with his free hand, the one with the modified safety razor.
 

 

“Hold that son of a bitch,” the tall one sputtered.
 
His mouth was black with blood and he stormed forward with both fists clenched, spitting spat chunks of sharp tooth fragments onto the floor, when the man behind Bob started to scream.
 

 

The hold around his throat loosened and Bob whipped his hand around in a wide circle, spraying the shower walls crimson as he swung for the man holding his wrist.
 
The edge of his razor caught the man across the right eye, splitting the orb in two.
 

 

Bob pushed both men away from him and held up the razor, showing it to the tall one.
 
He passed through the hot jets of water in the shower, feeling it washing him clean even as the other man tried to back up and get away from him.
 

 

***

 

Johnny Saringo leaned against the damp, mildewed doorframe and looked through the slotted window at the beaten, naked figure on the muddy floor.
 
Bob Ford lifted his head slightly, squinting at the bounty hunter between two swollen eyes, and then laid his head back down.
 

 

“They’re all gonna live,” Saringo said.
 
“You cut that one fool’s nose almost completely off.
 
He’s gonna be able to breathe a lot easier without either of his nostrils getting in the way.
 
The other one’s blind in one eye.
 
And the fat one, well, let’s just say his baby making prospects just went down significantly if he should ever get out of here.”

 

Bob pushed off of the floor and clutched his stomach, groaning in pain.
 
“What the hell do you want, Mr. Saringo?”

 

“The guards want you gone, boy.
 
For one thing, they think you’re crazy and after they put the whooping on you, they’re afraid you’ll start cutting them up next.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Bob said.
 
“They were just doing what they’re supposed to.”

 

“Fair enough,” Saringo said.
 
“But now they’re also worried about what the other inmates will do to you, including the three you mutilated once they get back from sickbay.
 
They don’t want any dead bodies on their hands, Bob.
 
It’s bad for business.”

 

“But everything else that goes on here is okay?”

 

“Everything has its limits, Bob.
 
People too, which I think we’ve all seen pretty clearly here today.
 
So, they intend to ship you out at the next flight.
 
I have no idea what rock they’re going to bury you under, but I god-damn-guarantee you it will make this place look like a playground.
 
That’ll be the end of your days, my friend.”

 

“I guess that’s it, then.”

 

“I guess it is,” Saringo said.
 
“Unless, of course, you changed your mind about helping me.”

 

“They aren’t going to let me walk out after all this,” Bob said.

 

Saringo smiled and said, “You’d be surprised, Bob.
 
The men I work for are what you might call the influential type.”

 

“Influential enough to make all this go away?”

 

Johnny Saringo reached down and twisted the cell door handle, then pulled it open enough for Bob to walk through.
 
“That’s putting it mildly.”

 

***

 

The space freighter bounced them up and down in their seats like rubber balls, but Johnny Saringo paid it no mind as he held up the display screen.
 
He pointed to the masked figure at the center of the screen and said, “This is footage of Gentleman Jim during the Sandy Hill Bank Robbery.
 
He shot the female clerk in the face when she told him she couldn’t open up her register, then he killed the bank manager just for sport.
 
That’s what finally got him into the big leagues as far as bounties go.”

 

Bob Ford leaned forward in his seat and squinted at the grainy photograph.
 
“Can I see that?” he said.
 

 

Saringo handed the screen to Bob and sat back.
 
The seats were made of molded plastic and Johnny stuck his hands under his rear end to give his tailbone a rest.
 
“Word is that he’s getting into darker stuff than just knocking off banks and robbing stage coaches.
 
We have intelligence that he’s trafficking humans, snatching women and smuggling them off planet to sell them to the highest bidder.”

 

“Selling them for what?” Bob said.

 

“What do you think, Bob?”
 

 

Bob Ford handed him back the screen and said, “I can’t help you, Mr. Saringo.
 
That isn’t Gentleman Jim.”

 

Saringo took the screen back and looked down at it, seeing the masked man holding a cocked revolver in his hand.
 
“The hell are you talking about, Bob?
 
It most certainly is.”

 

“No it isn’t,” Bob said.
 
He tapped the screen with his finger and said, “Gentleman Jim was three inches taller than me and had a square chin.
 
This man is hardly taller than the woman he’s standing next to, plus he’s got an inverted chin, like it stopped growing early or something.
 
See that mask?
 
It’s all crooked and cheaply made.
 
The man I rode with wouldn’t have used that mask to wipe his boots off with.
 
Anyway, Jim never hurt a single woman in all the time I knew him and never let anybody else do it either.
 
You’re looking for the wrong man.”

 

Johnny Saringo looked back at the display screen for a moment, then turned it off and set it aside.
 
He leaned forward in his seat and said, “Now you listen to me, you lily-livered son of a bitch.
 
The only reason you aren’t getting bent over your bunk and stove-piped right now is because you accepted an assignment.
 
Now, I don’t care what your memory tells you about the man you used to know, but that isn’t really important.
 
The man in this photograph is the only Gentleman Jim I give a shit about and if you don’t want to spend the rest of your worthless, useless existence servicing the inmates of an entire prison wing, I suggest you get your head on straight.
 
Am I clear right now, boy?”

 

Bob Ford looked down at his shoes and nodded.
 

 

“Outlaws die all the time and get replaced,” Saringo said.
 
“Probably, one of his new partners was too smart to get caught in the same ruse that trapped you and put a bullet in the last one’s brain.
 
All he had to do was put on a mask and sooner than you could say ‘stick-up’ he was the new boss hog.
 
So what if this new one don’t have quite the same code of chivalry as the former?
 
If he wants to wear the mask, he’s gonna face the consequences for every single one of them that’s ever done it.”

 

“It wasn’t me being stupid that got me caught,” Bob said.
 
“It was me being loyal.
 
I did what he told me to do because I was following orders.”

 

“Yeah,” Johnny Saringo said, “And look where that got you.”

 

***

 

Johnny Saringo watched Bob get dressed in his old clothes and frowned as he hiked up his black trousers.
 
“Look how baggy they are.
 
You lost some serious weight in there, boy.”

 

“The food had bugs in it,” Bob said.
 

 

“Yeah, they don’t pay much mind to the cuisine they serve, I reckon.
 
Listen, the first thing you need to do is get a room and establish some sort of presence.
 
Don’t move too fast, or you’ll spook people.
 
Just get the lay of the land for a few days and see who knows what.
 
Buy some drinks.
 
Nothing like a free drink to loosen a man’s tongue.”

 

“How am I supposed to pay for all that?” Bob said.
 

 

“You didn’t bring no money?” Saringo said sharply.

 

“Well, no, they didn’t let me keep any when I got arrested.”

 

Saringo snorted with laughter and said, “I’m just kidding with you, Bob.
 
Lighten up for Pete’s sake.
 
Here.”
 
He reached into his pocket for a small sack of coins and said, “This here’s enough for two full weeks of shelter, food, and drinks to bribe the locals for information.
 
Use it wisely because there won’t be any more of it for two weeks, and after that, you only get half this much.”

 

“What about a gun?”

 

“The hell you need a gun for?”

 

“What kind of outlaw doesn’t carry a gun?”
  

 

“That kind that just got out of a goddamn maximum security facility and should be grateful to still be drawing air, Bob.”

 

“All right, Mr. Saringo.
 
I understand.”

 

Saringo dropped the bag of coins into Bob’s hand and said, “Listen, I put a little extra in there out of my own pocket so you can enjoy yourself tonight.
 
You been through hell, and I reckon you can use a few drinks and maybe some female companionship to get your head right.
 
But just tonight, okay?
 
Come first light, you better be hard at it, or else.
 
Understand?”

 

Bob nodded and said, “Thank you kindly for the consideration, sir.”

 

Saringo patted Bob on the arm and said, “You sure are a puzzle, Bob Ford.
 
Anyway, go on now.
 
Get to it.”

 

The freighter’s cargo hatch popped open and Bob leaned forward to take his first breath of fresh air, but caught a face full of hot dust.
 
He lowered his head and ducked into the gust, no sooner stepping onto Seneca’s surface before the engines whined again and the transport started to lift.

 

He scurried out of the way and looked up to watch the ship ascend, seeing its thrusters glow as it pushed up into the atmosphere.
 
Bob stood still for a moment, looking into the sky.
 

BOOK: Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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