Coming
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SAVIDGE KEPT HIS EYES on Louisa, who stopped beside Prophet. She was thumbing fresh
cartridges through her Winchester’s loading gate. She didn’t say anything as
she regarded the killer coldly.
“Why,
that’s nothin’ but a girl who...came in there...done all that....”
Savidge
was deeply confounded.
“Nothin’
but a girl,” Prophet said.
“Nothin’
but,” Louisa said, pumping a round into her Winchester’s breech and taking one
step toward Savidge.
“Louisa,
take it easy,” Prophet said.
“I’m
gonna kill him,” Louisa said coolly, staring at Savidge.
“Hey,
now, wait a minute!” Savidge said, backing away, holding his hands up higher.
“I done tossed my guns down. That was the deal!”
“What
about the folks in the barn?” Louisa asked him.
Savidge
stared at her, his little, too-close-together eyes darting around in their
sockets like frightened mice scurrying around in a hole.
“Louisa,
settle down,” Prophet said. “We’re taking him in alive.”
“Why
should he get to live?” Louisa said. “The folks in the barn didn’t get to
live.”
“There’s
a two thousand dollar bounty on his head,” Prophet told her. “Seems Uncle Sam
wants this bastard alive so they can play cat’s cradle with his head their
ownselves. Don’t know why Sam should get all the fun, but that’s the way it is.
They won’t pay if he’s dead. I’ve dealt with Sam before.”
Louisa
just stared solemnly up at Chaz Savidge. Her blond hair blew around her
shoulders in the wind. She had her Winchester aimed at Savidge from her right
hip. “I don’t care about the money.”
“Maybe
you don’t, but I do. I for one have about three dollars and some jingle in my
pockets, and my stomach’s been growlin’ for nigh on three weeks. Stand down,
Louisa!”
“I’ll
buy you a meal in the next town, Lou,” Louisa said in her dull, even voice that
she kept so low that Prophet could just barely hear her above the breeze
scratching around in the barren branches behind him. “I’ll buy you some whiskey
and even a whore. I know that’s all you’re worried about. Whiskey and whores
and having enough money to gamble away. So I’ll even slip you a few extra
dollars to buy into a stud game. How would that be?”
Her
voice was fairly dripping with sarcasm.
Rage
was beginning to boil inside of Prophet. “Louisa, you got little more jingle
than I do. We do this for a living, not the religion of it. Now, stand down,
partner!”
“I
do it for the religion of it, Lou.”
Prophet
stomped up beside her. “Stand down!”
Chaz
Savidge was flushed and flustered. He kept his hands up even with his head,
palms out. He was breathing hard.
“What
is she—loco? She can’t just out an’
out kill me. It ain’t right. Especially a girl doin’ it. That ain’t right!”
“What’s
not right is you killing innocent folks. Raping innocent girls.”
“I
had nothin’ to do with that! That was the others.”
Louisa
smiled grimly.
“It’s
true. I had none of that. That...that’s just not how I am. I don’t operate that
way.”
“Oh,
I think you do.”
Prophet
reached over and jerked the rifle out of Louisa’s hands. Inadvertently, she
tripped the trigger. The bullet sailed off behind Savidge but not before
drawing a red line across the outlaw’s bulging left temple.
“Hey!”
the outlaw screamed, brushing his hand across his forehead and looking at the
blood on his fingers. “She’s goddamn crazy!”
Prophet
tossed her rifle away.
Louisa
glared up at him for a full thirty seconds. Her jaws were so hard they made her
cheeks dimple. “I got two more,” she said, lifting the bottom of her poncho
above the pearl handles of her pretty matched Colts.
Prophet
leveled his Winchester at her belly. “If you use ‘em on him, I’ll shoot you.”
She
stared up at him, her right eyelid dropping slightly down over that eye. “You
wouldn’t. What’s more, you couldn’t.”
“On
principal,” Prophet said, “I would. And I could. I don’t do that. I don’t kill
in cold blood. And I’m not gonna let you do it, either.”
“Mighty
high principal for a man who has so few.”
“I
got that one.”
“What
about whiskey and whores?”
“Those I don’t got.”
“Those I don’t got.”
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