Assassins of History- Transference Read online

  I climbed the last few steps to the landing, summarily kicked his pistols down the stairs and demanded, “Where’s your partner?”

  Before he could answer, I heard a deep voice declare, “Here I am.” I turned to look down the hall toward our room and saw Mrs. Throckmorton and Caleb facing me. A dark complexioned man stood behind them with a pistol pointed at each of my friends’ backs.

  The gunman had a tobacco-stained black beard that reached his chest. His ominous dark brown eyes peered out from under a large-brimmed brown hat that had seen better days. His clothing was covered by a very long riding duster that was faded from trail grime. It was so long you could barely see the mud-caked black boots that stuck out from the bottom of the coat. He had two large revolvers, probably 45 or 44 caliber Dragoon pistols. He raised the pistol in his left hand and pointed it at the back of Mrs. Throckmorton’s head. The pistol in his right hand was still pointed at Caleb’s back. The gunman had made one mistake. He had positioned his hostages so there was a gap between them probably so he could see me clearly.

  “Drop your guns!” he commanded. “Or I’ll shoot this herah woman.”

  “Who are ya?” I countered.

  Caught off guard by the sudden question, he answered, “Seaborne Gill.”

  “Well,” I said. “Ain’t this my lucky day. I get to kill me another Gill in just twenty-four hours.”

  My retort got the response I had hoped for. His eyes suddenly widened and a gleam of pure hatred radiated his face. He swung both his pistols toward me.

  Caleb reacted about a half second later. In one motion he grabbed his mother and pulled her down. Both of them hit the floor in a kneeling position.

  When jawing with Seaborne Gill, my pistols were pointed toward the floor. Caleb’s quick movement had destroyed my focus and I had failed to raise my Colts. Concentrating on Gill again, I looked down the huge barrels of the two cannons he had at arm’s length and saw his eyes gleam as he pulled the triggers. The only thing I could do was turn to the right and face the wall. This movement made my body the smallest target possible.

  I felt one of the gunman’s bullets crease my chest leaving what felt like a trough an inch deep. Another bullet hit the flesh at the back of my left shoulder. It spun me to my left, made me drop the pistol in my left hand, and brought me face to face with my assailant. He grinned unmercifully as he cocked his pistols for a second round that would no doubt result in my demise.

  He had me dead to rights. So, I cocked the pistol in my right hand, turned my body to the left and faced the wall. This presented him again with the slenderest of targets. I quickly turned my head to face this malignant creature and raised the pistol in my right hand to fire.

  Caleb, in a lightning quick movement, pulled a double-edged knife from his left boot and from his position on the floor stabbed Seaborne Gill in his right thigh. Gill screamed in agony. He fixated on the knife sticking out of his leg and forgot all about shooting me.

  I jumped at the sound of his shriek, but calmly pulled the trigger of my Colt. My aim wasn’t too good due to the pain from my wounds, but my bullet hit him in the abdomen. It must have gone straight through him because he didn’t fall, but just looked at me with a bewildered stare. I cocked my Colt and fired again. This time I got more of a reaction as he was lifted off his feet and crashed backwards onto the plank floor of the hallway. He didn’t move. I lowered my pistol and just stared at the crumpled dead man.

  Caleb got his mother to her feet and held her as she sobbed into his shoulder. “It’s okay Ma. He’s done for and we’re safe,” Caleb reassured her.

  I felt kind of woozy and abruptly sat down with my back against the hallway wall. I finally dared to look at my left shoulder. There was very little blood trickling down from a tear in the shoulder of my coat. It must not have been too bad a wound if the blood flow was this small. Next I laid my pistol on the floor and unbuttoned my coat with my right hand and looked at my chest. There was a red stain on my shirt from just above my left pectoral muscle to just above my right pectoral muscle. The wound began to ache like the dickens. I laid my head back against the wall and just sighed.

  Caleb turned to me and said, “Thanks again for saving our lives.”

  I smiled and retorted, “If ya hadn’t of used that big pig sticker of yars, we’d all be dead now. I believe I need to thank ya for saving our lives.” He grinned and nodded toward me.

  The shooting had raised such a ruckus that the townspeople were coming up the stairs to see what was going on. Caleb retrieved his knife from Seaborne Gill’s body. Then he picked up my pistols and got me to my feet. With his help I made it down the stairs. Mrs. Throckmorton followed us and began to tell the crowd what had happened.

  Marshal Gill suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs and registered a surprised look once he saw me in one piece. I grinned and said, “Your cousin’s upstairs.” The marshal’s face turned white as a sheet. He hurried upstairs while Caleb helped me to the lobby of the hotel.

  In the lobby the desk clerk’s head wound was being tended to by the doctor. Caleb said, “Doc Morton, I gotsa another ‘un for ya to work on.” The doctor looked at me and replied, “Son, I don’t mind tha added business, but ain’t ya sort of pushing it?” I grinned and sat down to wait my turn with the sawbones. (Yes, I remember the colloquial name for 19th century doctors.)

  Presently, Doc Morton helped me take my coat and shirt off. He examined me and said that he had better take me to his office for some medicine, which he didn’t have in his kit bag, to treat my wounds. I slipped on my coat and my boots which had mystifyingly appeared at my feet and began to walk to the doc’s office with Caleb and Mrs. Throckmorton, who kept telling people that tried to question me, “Can’t ya see he’s wounded. Leave him be.” She even took my right arm to guide me through the crowd. I guess my few days of gun fighting were the most excitement the town had experienced since Stonewall Jackson, please make that General Jackson, ran the Yankees out of this area of the state back in 1861. I also believed that I had a surrogate mama now, whether I wanted one or not.

  Once at the doc’s office, I asked, “Doc, can ya apply some alcohol to my wounds?”

  Doctor Morton asked, “Why’s that young fellow?”

  I explained, “To stop any infection.” He looked at me as if the wounds had affected my mind, but reluctantly he dabbed some brandy to the injuries with some cloth dressing. I let out a holler that would wake the dead. Finally, the sting subsided and was replaced with a resulting ache.

  The left shoulder wound was superficial. The bullet wound across my chest had taken some flesh out of my pectoral muscles. The doc had to wrap my chest with a type of 19th century gauze.

  Mama Throckmorton, Caleb and I had a confab and decided to take Joshua home the next day. We all decided to stay at the doc’s office for the night. We figured it would be safer.

  I paid the doctor two dollars for his fix up of my wounds, while Caleb went to the hotel and paid for our room and board, for which I was grateful, since I didn’t have a whole lot of travel money left.

  

  The Dark Mage’s Log: Earth 3 Date: 18620920

  Jargunn had just gotten through the hotel’s back door when the imposter had reached the top of the stairs. Jargunn heard the tremendous explosions that reverberated in this small building. In cloaking mode he carefully advanced up the stairs to the second floor landing but did not make a sound nor leave a mark in the pools of the henchman’s blood on the landing. He looked at the henchman who slowly bled out his life. He even witnessed the final shoot out. Actually, one of the kidnapper’s bullets that grazed the imposter had continued down the hall and been deflected by Jargunn’s cloaking device. Although too late to help the imposter, Jargunn saw the imposter’s wounds were merely superficial.

  Jargunn activated an anti-gravity facet of his armaments and rose up near the ceiling. He witnessed the imposter being ushered to the doctor’s office. Then he propelled himself along the ceiling until
he could gently lower himself to the first floor in a remote area away from the crowd. Slipping out the back door, he hurried to his vehicle.

  Jargunn immediately reported the results of the gun fight to Lord Dendaras utilizing his ACV’s monitor screen. At the end of the recital Dendaras screamed, “Why weren’t you there to protect him.”

  Jargunn stammered, “Sire, I had just landed on “Earth 3” and this human was already pursuing another precarious and possibly lethal situation. It was too late to perform any protective maneuver. I swear by the Prime Meridian that I would have eradicated the imposter’s enemy if I had been in time. But, he had already killed his adversary by the time I had followed him to the scene of their deadly contest. Sire, I do have to admit that this human has indulged in more serendipitous killings and hand-to-hand combat than any I have witnessed in over five hundred years.” Blood poured from the pores of Jargunn’s back, staining his uniform.

  Lord Dendaras stared at Jargunn for a full minute before his anger began to cool. Finally, he choked out, “If this Earthling is harmed in any additional manner, you will be sentenced to one hundred years of slow death by the Shadow Dwellers.”

  Jargunn was so shocked that he went down on his knees and promised, “My Liege, he will be presented to you on Axeylon 5 in perfect health.”

  Lord Dendaras uttered, “He’d better be. Now abduct him and bring him to me when he begins his trek back to Shepherdstown. I hope you understand your orders, Watcher, because you are one tick away from the Shadow Dwellers’ realm. Do you understand?”

  Jargunn began to shake. He bowed forward putting his forehead on the floor of the ACV in front of the monitor screen and cried, “I understand my Master. I understand.”

  Lord Dendaras disconnected the transmission with a smirk. Then he considered the imposter for a moment and muttered to no one in particular, “Yes, human. You are either one of the bravest, one of the most foolish or one of the luckiest creatures we have encountered in several hundred years. Maybe we should consider you for our ultimate task in the 19th century on ‘Earth 3’.” The Lord of the Eastern Third of the Fourth Galaxy wandered into the bowels of Axeylon 5 pondering this provocative idea.

  Jargunn continued to shake and dared not raise his head for fear of having to look at Lord Dendaras. When there was continued silence, he raised his head to look at his monitor. It was dark. He sighed and cried in relief, “Oh, thank Tantas.” Then he pleaded, “Great Benefactor of the Universe, please hear my cry of mercy and protection.” Then he cried tears of blood.

  Chapter 11

  Caleb and I each took two hour shifts during the night staying awake to make sure we didn’t get surprised by any more of the Gill gang.

  The night passed without incident. Early the next morning, we prepared to move Joshua back to the Throckmorton farm. Caleb went to the livery stable and retrieved Sampson, who was harnessed to the Throckmorton buckboard. I was so overcome with the goings on of the last few days that I had forgotten all about Sampson and the buckboard.

  Caleb and I carried Joshua from Doc Morton’s office and put him in the back of the buckboard where Mrs. Throckmorton had prepared a pallet of blankets for him. She put his head in her lap and we were getting ready to leave when Marshal Gill suddenly appeared and asserted, “Whar do y’all think yar agoing?” This time the marshal had backup. He was accompanied by his deputy and one other man and they were armed to the teeth.

  

  The Dark Mage’s Log: Earth 3 Date: 18620920

  Jargunn had lost so much blood that he had to access the ACV’s emergency blood supply and implement a transfusion process to replenish his strength. He also cleansed his body and donned a change of clothing devoid of blood stain. Lastly, he kept an all-night protective vigil on the imposter.

  

  Overnight the sharp bite of the gunshot wounds had finally settled down into dull pains, but I was in no mood to parlay with this slippery character. However, he had the drop on us. We were outnumbered three to two. So instead of a confrontation, I answered, “Well Marshal, Joshua has healed enough for travel. So we’re gonna transport him back home.”

  “What do ya have to say for yarself about yestadee?” he questioned.

  “Not much,” I replied. “I saw Mrs. Throckmorton and Caleb were in trouble and went to thar aid.”

  “That ain’t tha way I heard it,” he rejoined.

  “Well then, ya heard it wrong,” I snapped. I definitely hated this poor excuse for a lawman and would give anything to pistol whip him within an inch of his life. The marshal and his backups definitely had surprised us and I hadn’t had a chance to unbutton my coat and get my hands on my pistols. Being at such a disadvantage, I quickly probed, “What did ya hear and from who?”

  The marshal grinned and stated, “I heard ya jumped two men in tha hotel and shot ‘em in cold blood.”

  “That’s a lie,” Mrs. Throckmorton interjected. “If Jim hadn’t come to our rescue, there’s no telling what those kin folk of yourn wudda done.”

  The marshal turned beet red and barked, “Ya keep out of this.”

  Mrs. Throckmorton mouthed right back at him, “I won’t keep out of this. And another thing, why haven’t ya found tha blackhearts that robbed and beat my husband. They hurt him so much he died of consumption.”

  This was news to me. I turned and looked at Mrs. Throckmorton. Then I faced the marshal with a quizzical look on my face. We all waited for an answer.

  The marshal countered, “We ain’t dealing with that right now.” Looking at me, he declared, “Ya better come down to tha jail with me.”

  The Dark Mage’s Log: Earth 3 Date: 18620921

  Jargunn had already pulled his wand ray, once he comprehended the newest confrontation of the imposter would probably escalate into a firing of weapons. He was just about ready to violate the Prime Meridian, when the imposter reacted.

  

  Just at that moment Captain Mosby and about ten of his troopers rounded the corner. I surmised they were probably going out on patrol. I waved and yelled at the top of my voice, “Captain Mosby!”

  Captain Mosby heard me over the din created by rattling sabers, creaking saddles, snorting horses, the clop, clop, clop of hooves and the early morning town noises. He halted his patrol and looked to see who had shouted. Seeing me, he grinned, waived and rode over to where the impasse was at hand.

  He tipped his hat to Mrs. Throckmorton and said, “Hello folks.”

  I smiled back and questioned, “Did ya hear about tha shoot out yesterday?” He laughed and said, “Don’t tell me ya were in on that too.”

  I nodded and said, “The marshal wants to take me in for rescuing the Throckmortons, who were held hostage in the hotel by Seaborne Gill and a henchman.”

  The Captain’s face darkened as he shifted his gaze to Owen Gill. “Why?” he demanded.

  Gill retorted, “Ya don’t have any authority in this. It’s a town matter.”

  “Let’s just say, when it comes to a person responsible for thwarting a Yankee foray into our territory, I have a vested interest in what happens to him. Why do ya want to arrest him?” Mosby growled.

  “I wasn’t gonna arrest him,” stammered Gill.

  “Then why did ya say ya had a witness that said I shot tha men in cold blood?” I countered.

  “I have Alton Jones’ statement. He was with Seaborne Gill. He died just after I went upstairs at tha hotel and before he died he said ya shot him and Seaborne in cold blood. That’s a dying man’s declaration and it’ll stand up in court.”

  “You might have a dying man’s declaration, but there are three of us that are alive and will testify that Gill and this Jones character held tha Throckmortons hostage at gunpoint. I will also testify that Gill and Jones, his henchman, shot at me without any justification. So, I believe we have a better and more logical story if ya wanna go to court,” I summarized.

  The marshal blushed and stuttered, “Well, I also asked some other people that were on tha
scene.”

  “Then, why didn’t ya come see us last night instead of waiting until this morning and who were these other people on tha scene?” I interrogated.

  “I was getting all the facts together last night and it was late before I got through talking with those people,” he declared.

  “It would be interesting to know who those people were who said they were on the scene because tha only people who witnessed tha fight were Mrs. Throckmorton, Caleb, Seaborne Gill, his henchman, Jones and me. I didn’t shoot anybody in cold blood and I have tha wounds to prove there was a shootout. You can ask Doc Morton,” I blurted.

  Mosby shifted in his saddle and shouted to his men to countermarch. When the troop was even with us, he commanded them to front (face) toward our little gathering and halt. He then told them to draw carbines. At this last command Gill’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard.

  Then Mosby pointed at me, looked at Marshal Gill and declared through gritted teeth, “This man has repeatedly risked his life for tha Country and tha people of this region. I don’t wanna hear of any trumped up charges against him. He is under tha protection of tha Confederate Cavalry and I better not hear of any sort of retaliation. If I do, I’m gonna come looking for you. Do I make myself clear?”

  Gill was too scared to say anything. He just nodded his head, turned and walked away with his men.

  Mosby watched the remnant of the Gill gang disappear round the corner. Then he sighed, turned back to me and said, “Looks like yar enemies keep after ya no matter how many ya dispatch.”

  “Sure looks that way,” I added. “Again I have reason to thank ya for yar help. I really appreciate it,” I acknowledged.

  Mosby smiled, saluted me, tipped his hat to Mrs. Throckmorton and Caleb and rode off with his men.

  I turned to Caleb and said, “Let’s get outta here while tha getting’s good.” “Amen,” He said.