At Law's End
Writing Prompt from Writing Excuses - Season 01 - Episode 23 - Viewpoint
Write a scene in third-person limited in which your viewpoint character has a secret that he or she does not want any of the other characters in the scene to know.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darkness helped conceal Jamie’s movements through the underbrush as the posse took positions around the dried-up gulley where the bandits hid. The gun hanging from the holster was a strange weight at her hip, throwing her balance off as she crept along behind Marshal Eriksen.
“Now don’t worry none, Gilbert.” She heard him whisper. “We’ll get your money back and be back in town ‘fore the week is out.”
Ah. Gilbert. She remembered herself quickly enough to grunt in approval. It wouldn’t do to give herself away when she was so close to her goal. If there was any doubt in the lawman’s mind that she was anyone other than the bank owner’s nephew, Jamie couldn’t tell. With the hat pulled down low and the scarf she kept wrapped around her face, he seemed oblivious. He continued to lead the way to the edge of the crumbling riverbed.
The sliver of moon hanging above them was enough to let them skirt a patch of loose gravel that would’ve surely alerted their quarry to their presence there; the net of seven armed men tightening like a noose around an unsuspecting neck.
Faint voices could be heard, bouncing off the walls of the small depression where the bandits had set up their camp in an attempt to keep it hidden. Luckily for the posse, Injun Tom was the best tracker in the county and he had skin in the game as well. Jamie was only certain of one man in the party, but she was sure that her half-Apache friend would tilt the odds her way.
Crouching behind a dead cactus that seemed on the verge of falling over, she peered down at the camp. They’d let the fire burn low, but it flickered enough to cast the shadows of the four outlaws dancing around them. Their horses were hobbled together a dozen feet away, barely discernible in the dim light.
She recognized Frank and Fred Sewell, twin brothers who somehow managed to one-up each other in the ugly department, playing cards on top of a flat rock. “Lucky” Bobby Flynn was whittling a small piece of wood into some sort of animal shape.
The last member of the band that robbed the bank sat on a log with his back to the fire, rifle nestled in the crook of one arm, gazing out into the night. Jerkfoot Pete’s namesake twitched constantly, digging a hole in the sand around the heel of his boot.
Jamie had hoped that Pete would be on watch duty. He wasn’t necessarily a terrible shot, but growing up he’d been the butt of many jokes for his mediocre aim. It meant that perhaps things didn’t have to get as bloody as she’d feared.
Just as bloody as they needed to be.
The other bandits’ weapons were within reach, but they were distracted. The marshal’s plan was to bring them back alive if possible, so they could be hanged properly in the town square. It was one thing to take the railroad’s money from the bank, but they’d killed a bank teller during their escape. It was the noose that awaited them. A short drop and a quick stop.
Jamie didn’t really care about that.
She took out the revolver, heavy and cumbersome in her hand. She was glad she was wearing gloves to disguise how small they were, otherwise her nervous palm would’ve let the gun slip from her grasp. The scarf was wet and clammy around her head. She softly cocked her weapon, ready. The marshal crouched a few feet to her left, peering down at their targets.
A soft hooting from the other side of the gulley echoed through the stillness. One of the Sewell brothers glanced up, and Pete shifted on his log looking in the direction where the sound came from, but he didn’t raise his rifle.
It was time. Jamie’s guts twisted and churned. She shivered in the cool night air, even though she was sweating bullets. Marshal Eriksen stood slowly, still covered by the dead cactus and pointed his rifle at the men. Jamie raised the revolver shakily and centered the sights on Jerkfoot Pete.
“All of you down there! You’re surrounded! You got no chance, so don’t even try reaching for those guns!”
She had to admit, the Sewell brothers might be ugly, but they were very fast. The leader of the posse hadn’t finished speaking when Fred threw himself to the side, picking up his gun belt as he did and drawing his gun and pointing it in Jamie’s general direction. Frank was just as quick, pushing himself off his seat and bringing a rifle to bear, aimed at the opposite side his twin was facing.
Pete had tried to make himself as small as he could as she saw him crouch behind the log he’d been sitting on, his rifle also pointing uncomfortably close to where Jamie stood. Bobby Flynn just stood slowly, dropping the carved piece of wood along with the knife, dusted himself off and tipped his hat back above his forehead.
“Now, Marshal Eriksen! That you?” He had one of his insufferable grins on his face. “Why don’t you come down here and we can talk this out all gentlemen-like?”
“Ain’t goin’ to be no talkin’, boy! You’re surrounded!”
Bobby shrugged, keeping his hands out to the sides. “Ever since you put on that star, you think o’ yourself as some kind of big shot now.”
Jamie heard the marshal chuckle softly. She saw him center his sights on Bobby. Her arm was getting tired, so she wrapped her other hand around the revolver as well.
“Quit stallin’ and throw ‘em guns down, all of you!”
The Sewell brothers glanced at each other quickly and kept aiming out into the night. Pete’s rifle shifted from one side to the other. Bobby still stood there calmly.
“How do we even know you got enough deputies with ya?”
A shot rang out and Frank Sewell’s hat flew from his head. He threw himself down, but seemed otherwise unharmed. The horses whinnied and shied away from the sudden blast.
The marshals’ harsh laugh sounded terribly loud to Jamie. “That could’ve been your head, Frankie! Now don’t be foolish, boys, lay down your guns an’ we’ll just take you in.”
Bobby’s confidence seemed to have left him. A minute of silence passed while they all stood there quietly. Jamie could see Bobby’s eyes shifting from side to side, calculating odds, she guessed. Finally he seemed to give up and shrugged.
“Well, don’t suppose we got much of a choice, Eriksen.” He turned to the twins. “Lay ‘em down, boys, it’ll be alright.”
Frank and Fred looked at each other grimly before tossing their weapons away. Pete hesitated a few seconds longer until he caved under Bobby’s glare and dropped his rifle on the sand.
“Arms up!” Marshal Eriksen yelled as he stepped from behind the cactus. From the other side of the dry riverbed Injun Tom and the other members of the posse stepped into the firelight. They began tying the bandits up and picking through their packs. Jamie stood next to the lawman while he gloated with a satisfied expression on his face. She kept her gun pointed at their prisoners, as did Injun Tom.
Kneeling next to his accomplices, “Lucky” Bobby dropped his smile for the first time. “Why you helpin’ them, Eriksen? You lost just as much as any o’ us to those bastards.”
The marshal patted the shiny star pinned to his coat. “It’s Marshal Eriksen now, Bobby. We can’t all become outlaws just ‘cause our claims got bought out. Some of us are decent folk.”
Jamie’s grip tightened on the revolver. She saw Injun Tom glance her way and shake his head slightly. She couldn’t help herself from drawing a sharp breath, but the marshal didn’t notice.
“Like I said, you do think you’re better’n us.” Bobby’s face was calm, but she saw anger in his eyes.
Marshal Eriksen frowned, crouching in front of the outlaw and poking him in the chest.
“Decent folk don’t go round killing innocent, god-fearing men.”
Injun Tom caught Jamie’s eye. He pointed with his lips towards the other members of the posse. They were rummaging through the packs still, stacking up a neat little pile of bills and gold nuggets next to the fire.
“What in the hell are you talking ‘bout?” Confusion clouded Bobby’s face.
Marshal Eriksen punched him, sending him reeling against the other tied captives. With their hands behind their backs, they couldn’t grab a hold of him, so Bobby bounced back and fell on his face in the sand.
“Jeb O’Malley was my friend, you sonofabitch!”
Bobby turned on his back, blood trickling from his nose onto his lips, dazedly looking up at his attacker. “O’Malley? The bank teller? We didn’t do nothin’ to ‘im!”
The lawman kicked him in the guts, grunting with exertion. “That right? You’ll hang for it, boy! Might as well confess to your sins!”
Bobby was unable to speak, doubled over in pain as he was. Pete and the others were staring, wide-eyed with fear.
“We didn’t do nothin’, I swear!” Pete groveled.
“Well then if you didn’t murder him, who did?” Eriksen was straightening his coat and dusting his sleeves when Jamie turned her revolver and placed the tip of the barrel against the back of his head.
“That’d be me, Uncle Steve.” Her voice shook, she could barely contain herself from weeping, whether from anger or fear, she didn’t know.
Injun Tom raised his rifle and pointed it at the rest of the posse. The four thieves gaped at her as she unwound her scarf with her free hand and tossed it away along with the hat that had covered her features for the past three days.
“Jamie?” There was a noticeable tinge of apprehension in the marshal’s voice. He began to turn his head but she pressed the barrel harder against his skull. He froze. “What are ya doin’, girl?”
“Did you think I forgot? That just because I grew up, I could just move on with my life?”
Her father’s childhood friend stammered. “Jamie –lass – it weren’t me! I swear!” She saw the beads of sweat on his temple.
“Y’all back away, now!” Injun Tom motioned for their former colleagues to step away from the group. “This has got nothin’ to with y’all. Drop them guns and git!”
The men complied. Nobody would willingly put his skill to the test against Injun Tom, particularly when he already had a rifle pointed at them. In the space of a minute they’d dropped their guns and backed away out of the firelight.
No turning back now. Jamie flushed with realization. She was sure those men would spread the story as soon as they got back into town. Her life there was over.
“On your knees.” She whispered. “I want you to beg me to stop.”
“Jamie, please, I didn’t –”
“Just like she begged.” She felt the flush rise to her face as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Just like I begged him to stop after you’d killed her.”
“It weren’t like that, I swe –”
The butt of Injun Tom’s rifle cracked against Marshal Eriksen’s teeth, sending two of them flying out with a splash of blood as he flopped to the ground.
“I saw you!” The young man cried. He was a couple of years older than Jamie, and he’d loved her sister deeply. “I saw what you did to her, and I swore that I’d make you pay!”
The lawman struggled to his hands and knees, face a bloody ruin. He was crying. He knows his sins are about to be paid.
“You took my sister from me, you and your friends.” She spat out the last word, her father had been one of those friends. Eriksen began to push himself away but she stomped on his knee, feeling a satisfying snap through the sole of her boot. The marshal howled through his broken teeth.
“And now I’m going to track them all down. Every. Last. One. You’ll pay for what you did to me.” She looked at Injun Tom. “To us.”
“Never… touched… you…” Eriksen gurgled. Jamie stepped up to him and placed the barrel of the gun on his forehead. “We… stopped… I swear…. we never touched ‘nother girl after Maggie passed.”
“My father didn’t stop.” She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.
Dawn was creeping up on the horizon as they rode out of the dried-up gully. Bobby’s blood-smeared grin had come back once she’d agreed to stay with them. He had a great idea, he called it, and could use her help to hit the railroad bank in the next county. Injun Tom had merely shrugged and followed her lead, as usual.
She’d agreed, granted they make a stop along the way. She still had some bullets left, and justice had been absent for far too long.