-5-

 

Kid Curry arrived in Carlsbad just after nightfall.  He booked a room at the hotel, got cleaned up and went out for supper.

 

Later, he checked out the saloon on the remote chance of perhaps finding Heyes there even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t, and he wasn’t disappointed.

 

Leaving the saloon, he checked out the Sheriff’s office, to make sure he didn’t know him, peering surreptitiously through the office window to check if there were any prisoners inside, wondering if perhaps Heyes could have found his way here and ended up in jail for some reason.  But the cells were empty.

 

Tired, from travelling, and at a loss of where else to look, he went back to the hotel and prepared for bed, wondering what to do next.  Carlsbad was about the furthest place Heyes could feasibly have travelled to.  If he wasn’t here, there wasn’t realistically anywhere else he could look for him.

 

He hadn’t been back in touch with Lom since sending him the telegraph from Hobbs, more than three weeks ago.  He supposed he ought to wire him his whereabouts and ascertain whether he had heard from Heyes before, if he hadn’t, letting him know that Heyes was lost.  But the thought of sending that wire turned his stomach, because that would be allowing himself to consider that final possibility, that Heyes was dead, and he wasn’t ready to admit that.

 

As he lay in bed, his mind returned to his meeting with the couple at the farm that afternoon. 

 

They were certainly a strange couple. The son especially seemed somewhat shifty looking, and had appeared highly apprehensive during their meeting, casting nervous glances back inside the house and fidgeting anxiously from one foot to the other.

 

As he went back over their conversation, he suddenly remembered the faint thud from inside the house, and the son's apprehensive expression as he’d hurriedly pulled the door closed. The noise could have been a child playing, or knocking something over, but the woman had said that only she and her son were there.  It could have been a dog, he supposed, but they’d been talking with the door open up until that point and he hadn’t seen any sign of an animal. Indeed, a dog would probably have come out to investigate a stranger. So, if it wasn’t a dog, or a child, what had made the noise and why did the son look so uneasy when he heard it?

 

He remembered the way they had both dashed inside as he’d ridden away, again unusual. 

 

The more he thought about it, the more his sixth sense convinced him that all wasn’t quite what it seemed there, and he decided that, after checking out the rest of Carlsbad in the morning, he would go back there and investigate.

 

He rose early the following morning and, after breakfast, he checked out the rest of the town for any possible sign of Heyes having been there, before, satisfied that he hadn’t, he collected their belongings and checked out of the hotel, intending to return to the farmhouse.

 

It was late afternoon when he saw the farmhouse some distance ahead.  He stopped his horse and sat thinking for a while.

 

He decided not to announce his arrival, but to approach from behind the trees, leave his horse out of earshot, and observe the goings on from a safe distance.  If nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, he would retreat to his horse and leave without them ever having known he was there.

 

He rode up to the edge of the trees at the side of the farm and dismounted.  After tethering his horse he crept quietly through the trees until he found a position where he could watch the farmhouse without being seen.

 

There appeared to be no-one around, no child and certainly no dog. 

 

He sat there for some while, watching.  Then, the woman he had spoken to came out of the house and crossed to retrieve some washing hanging on a line nearby before going back inside.

 

Curry watched a while longer, beginning to think that perhaps he’d been wrong to suspect any dubious goings on here.

 

Then, the door opened and the woman appeared in the doorway and shouted loudly,  “Ely! Supper!”

 

A few moments later, the barn door opened and Curry’s jaw dropped open in shock when he saw Heyes walk out of the barn, closely followed by Ely, holding a shotgun on him.

 

He watched as they disappeared into the house, wondering what was going on.

 

Had Heyes turned up there and, perhaps believing Curry’s tale about him being an outlaw, they had taken him prisoner?  But, if that was the case, why had they not locked him up somewhere, or tied him up?  From the way he was dressed, shirt half unfastened and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, it looked as though he had been working, which suggested he wasn’t there as their prisoner but, if that was the case, why would the son be holding a gun on him?  It didn’t make any sense.

 

He sat there for some time, as darkness fell, waiting to see if anyone came out of the house, but no-one did.

 

Curry pondered on what to do. 

 

Finally, he got to his feet, gun drawn, and quietly approached the farmhouse, keeping to the shadows lest Ely should come out, with the gun, and find him. He had no doubt that he would shoot on sight if he found a stranger outside.

 

Slowly, he crept around to the front of the house and, very gingerly, popped his head up to peep through the window before ducking down again.  Ely was slouching on the couch, the woman at the sink.  Heyes was nowhere to be seen.

 

He popped his head up again for another quick look before ducking back out of sight.  He couldn’t see the shotgun which probably meant it was stood somewhere near the door.  There didn’t appear to be any other weapons within easy reach, which gave him a chance to burst in and surprise them before they had chance to grab a gun and shoot him.

 

He risked a third look, just to establish the layout of the room before he made his entrance.  There were two doors behind the couch where Ely was sitting, presumably bedrooms.  Heyes might be in one of them and he didn’t want to risk shooting him should he come out unexpectedly.

 

He checked his gun and, taking a deep breath he kicked open the door and burst into the room.

 

“Freeze!”

 

Ely jumped, startled, while Ida-May let out a shriek.

 

Curry glanced to the side and saw the shotgun propped against the wall at the side of the door.  He picked it up, to make sure they didn’t get hold of it.

 

“What are you doing here?”  gasped Ida-May, recognizing him from his visit the previous day.

 

“Where is he?” demanded Curry.

 

“Who?”

 

“The outlaw, the one I told you I was looking for.”

 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” stuttered Ida-May.

 

“Don’t give me that,” growled Curry, “I’ve been watching you.  I know he’s here.”

 

Ida-May and Ely exchanged nervous glances.

 

“Do ya see anyone here?” Ida-May said now.

 

“Don’t move.” Curry warned, as he circled around them and opened one of the bedroom doors to glance inside.  The room was empty.

 

He moved to the other room, sure that Heyes must be in here, but that too was empty.  He quickly scanned around in case there was another doorway that he had missed seeing, but there wasn’t one.

 

“I saw him come in here.  Where is he?” he demanded, looking from Ida-May to Ely and back again, but neither spoke.

 

Curry moved behind the couch and pressed his gun to the back of Ely’s head.

 

“Well?” he growled, fixing his hard gaze on Ida-May’s face.

 

Ely started to tremble,  “Ma…” he wailed.

 

“Shut up!” snapped Ida-May, “He aint gonna kill ya, or me, ‘cos if he does, he aint never gonna know.”

 

Curry couldn’t believe she would dare to risk challenging him when he had a gun to her son’s head.

 

He tightened his finger on the trigger.

 

“I’m waiting.”

 

“Ma…” Ely squealed.

 

Ida-May held his gaze, still unwilling to answer.

 

Losing patience, Curry moved the gun and fired a warning shot into Ely’s arm.

 

Ely screamed and fell off the couch, rolling around on the floor holding his arm.

 

“Next time, it’ll be his head.” Curry glared at Ida-May.

 

“Alright… alright.”  Ida-May’s shoulders sagged.

 

“Well?”

 

“Y’need t’move the table.”

 

“What?”

 

“Underneath… there’s a door… to a cellar…  He’s in there.”

 

“Open it.” Curry ordered.

 

Ida-May moved to drag the table aside and pull up the rug to expose the trap door. Unlocking it, she lifted the door.

 

“There’s a ladder…” she said.

 

“Get it.”

 

Obediently, she fetched the ladder and lowered it down.

 

There was no sound or movement from down below.

 

“Get down there.” Curry ordered now, unwilling to leave them up here, out of his sight, while he went to investigate.

 

Ida-May turned around and began to climb down the ladder.

 

Curry turned to Ely,  “You too.” he instructed.

 

Ely made to protest but gave up, as Curry pointed his gun at him, and struggled to his feet, all the while protesting loudly about his injured arm and how he was going to die if he didn’t get to a doctor.

 

“It’s only a flesh wound, it aint gonna kill ya.” growled Curry, “Now, get down there before I change my mind and put one inta ya that will.”  He levelled the gun at Ely’s chest.

 

Seeing the menacing look in Curry’s eyes Ely shut up and hurriedly moved to climb down the ladder. Putting the shotgun on the table, Curry quickly followed them, waving his gun to indicate for them to move away into the far corner of the room.

 

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw Heyes, sitting on a cot in the opposite corner of the room, his knees pulled up and his arms folded around them, looking at Curry with suspicion and, he was surprised to note, fear.

 

“Joshua…?” he ventured.

 

Heyes stared at him, trying to work out why this man looked familiar, suddenly realizing that this was the face he’d seen in his dreams and believing him to be the Bounty Hunter that Ida-May had said had come looking for him. 

 

“Joshua…” Curry said again, reaching out as though to put a hand on his shoulder. Heyes flinched away.  With no memory of his life before arriving at the Drakes, or of what crimes he may have committed, he was reluctant to be taken to jail by this man, possibly to a death sentence, even though it would get him away from the Drakes.

 

“It’s O.K. I’m not gonna hurt you.” said Curry, dropping his hand,  “You don’t know who I am, do you?” he questioned, seeing the lack of recognition in his friend’s eyes.

 

“You’re the Bounty Hunter?” suggested Heyes.

 

Curry gave a deep sigh,  “No. I’m not a Bounty Hunter, I just said that in the hope they would cooperate with me.” he nodded towards Ida-May and Ely.

 

Heyes looked confused,  “But… I’ve seen your face before…”

 

“Yes,” Curry nodded, “I’m your friend.”

 

Heyes looked at him now, “I’ve seen you… in my dreams…” He shook his head as he tried to recall them, “There were guns… men and horses… violence… you… “

 

“Yes, there was an ambush… you were hurt… I’ve been searching for you ever since.”

 

“I don’t re--” Heyes began, but Curry spoke over him.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it when we get out of here.  Come on.” He offered Heyes his hand to help him up, still keeping a wary eye on the Drakes.

 

Heyes looked uncertain, not sure what was truth and what was lies or whether this man was his friend or his enemy.  He had been desperate to try and find a means of escape from the Drakes, but going with this man could be a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire.  But, since he had a weapon, and was obviously not afraid to use it, he decided that if he wanted to stay alive he didn’t have any other option but to go with him and hope it didn’t land him in jail, or worse.

 

With a vague nod of acknowledgement, he got up off the cot.

 

“You go first.” Curry nodded towards the ladder.

 

Heyes climbed up the ladder, Curry on his heels, one hand still aiming his gun at the Drakes.

 

Once they’d climbed out, Curry pulled up the ladder and put it back in the bedroom.

 

“What about us?” Ida-May called, from down in the cellar.

 

“You can have a taste of your own medicine for a while.” said Curry, lowering down the trap door, although he didn’t lock it.  They would be able to get themselves out fairly easily. Ely could put his Mother on his shoulders and she could, hopefully, with a little effort, push up the heavy trap door, but, by then, he and Heyes would be long gone.

 

“Where’s your coat?” Curry asked Heyes, who was watching him warily.

 

Heyes frowned, “In the bedroom, I think.”

 

“Get it.  We need to get going.”

 

Heyes went into the bedroom and returned a moment later with his coat and hat.

 

“Good.” nodded Curry, “Let’s go.”

 

Picking up the shotgun, he blew out the lamp and they exited the house.

 

Curry made for the corral, intending to take one of the two horses for Heyes to ride.

 

“No, don’t.” said Heyes.

 

Curry looked at him.

 

“These are the only horses they have.” said Heyes.

 

“We’ll leave them one, they can get another one.”

 

“They don’t have the money.” said Heyes,  “They don’t have much of anything.” He shook his head,  “Leave it...”  Despite how they had treated him, he didn’t want to rob them of what few possessions they owned.

 

Curry sighed,  “Alright.  You can double up with me.”

 

“…And the shotgun.” said Heyes, as Curry made to stow the shotgun on his saddle.

 

As Curry made to protest, Heyes shook his head, “Leave it.” He didn’t want to leave them with no means of protection.

 

With a sigh, Curry emptied out the shells and then tossed the gun out of sight around the side of the barn.

 

“Come on, let’s get out of here before they get themselves out of that cellar.”  Curry led the way back to where he'd tethered his horse.