Summary:\u00a0 When everything you care about is taken from you, you have nothing left to lose.<\/p>\n
Rating: M (violence)
\nWord count:\u00a0 3305<\/p>\n
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There\u2019d been trouble for weeks. Steers separated from the herd, torn apart and left for the varmints to feast upon. A stream the Cartwrights frequented was spiked with sharpened sticks claiming both cattle and horses. Good roads were found blocked by rockslides. Wagons recently repaired lost wheels. Individually, each incident could have been put down to bad luck. Taken together, there was just too much bad luck for coincidence. No one knew who was behind the trouble or why they went to the trouble. Somehow, it all felt personal.<\/p>\n
This time there was a note \u2013tucked inside the pocket of one the Ponderosa\u2019s cow hands. Bill had been beaten until he was nearly unrecognizable and placed back on his horse just conscious enough to give the Cartwrights the crumpled paper: \u201cGet to the old Drake homestead by 9:00 unless you want to find a man dead next time.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was never any question they would go. That it was a trap went without saying. Didn\u2019t matter\u2013 no one else would suffer if the Cartwrights could prevent it.<\/p>\n
They settled Bill in the guest room with Hop Sing in attendance. Two men were sent into town to fetch the doctor and the sheriff. Out of caution, the rest of the scant crew were left to guard the house.<\/p>\n
Just because they knew they were riding into a trap didn\u2019t mean they had to be stupid about it. They spread out along the trail with Adam and Joe ghosting in and out of the tree lines, on either side of Pa and Hoss. Watching for a blur of motion. Listening for the snap of branches under foot. Guarding each other as they had always done and would always do.\u00a0 Alert and silent, they made good time. Adam\u2019s pocket watch confirmed that it wasn\u2019t quite 9:00 when they arrived in the vicinity of Mel Drake\u2019s abandoned cabin. Dismounting, they crept the remaining yards on foot.<\/p>\n
The cabin, finally revealed under a pale moon, had been etched in silver and shadows when they\u2019d arrived. The windows were boarded over, with the only door creaking and swinging on rusty hinges. The dwelling reeked of old smoke and turpentine. A peek inside the house confirmed their impression that the place was deserted. Not a soul in sight. The ground around the cabin and its well appeared undisturbed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you think?\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was so quiet it could be carried away on a breeze.<\/p>\n
They all took a moment to consider. What were they facing here? What was the best move? Ben\u2019s quick gestures to spread out and take cover decided the matter. They didn\u2019t ride all this way to turn around and leave without answers.<\/p>\n
Answers came a heartbeat later. A rifle shot cracked, and Hoss grunted in pain. The big man stumbled and fell, clutching his right leg.<\/p>\n
\u201cGo!\u00a0 Move!\u201d Ben shouted. \u201cInto the cabin!\u201d<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
It had always been Adam\u2019s belief that when things went to hell in a handbasket, they went there fast. Moonlight and cicadas one minute; the next minute a brother is bleeding in the dirt.<\/p>\n
More rifle shots from their unseen adversary whistled through the air over the sound of Pa\u2019s shouts to get inside the cabin. Obedience seemed like the smart move. Counting on Joe to cover them, Adam scuttled over to help Pa get Hoss up and into the building. Grunting, he and Pa propped themselves under Hoss, forming human crutches, and the three men moved as swiftly as the wounded man could manage.<\/p>\n
Pushing Hoss and his father into the building, Adam lost his footing and dropped his pistol just outside the doorway. Continuing without a firearm was unacceptable. Crouched so low he was nearly on his belly, he slithered through the opening in his best impression of a lizard, grasping the pistol in one hand and hissing in pain as his upper arm encountered a sharp edge. Aggravated, he looked for the source of his pain and found a small axe shoved half under the cabin\u2019s foundation. Never one to leave a good potential weapon behind, he grabbed that as well. Bullets peppered the ground in front of him encouraging his retreat back into the cabin while Little Joe shouted at him for putting his head outside. At least the kid was still alive and fussing.<\/p>\n
\u201cAdam, get inside here, and help me tie something around Hoss\u2019s leg.\u201d Pa was putting pressure on the bloody spot blooming at the back of his brother\u2019s right knee. Hastily, Adam pulled the bandana from around his neck and helped his father tie it into place.<\/p>\n
\u201cY\u2019all can stop carryin\u2019 on.\u201d Hoss was panting with the pain and shock.\u00a0 \u201cI can feel it even if I can\u2019t see it.\u00a0 Ain\u2019t no bullet inside me. Went straight through. Shouldn\u2019t have even fallen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHush, son. Just take it easy. Adam, can you see what\u2019s happening?\u201d<\/p>\n
Hoss was trying to get his attention. \u201cThis feels like just one man out there to me. Must be hiding in a real good spot, but just one man.\u00a0 Can you spot him?\u201d<\/p>\n
Adam hadn\u2019t even seen Little Joe since the shooting started, much less their attacker, and he said so.<\/p>\n
Why they hadn\u2019t been shot down twenty times during their awkward journey from yard to the house, Adam couldn\u2019t figure.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t like they were a small target. Except for the bullet wounding Hoss, every round fired at them struck dirt and rocks. Even with Joe\u2019s covering fire,\u00a0 it was a wonder they made it inside in (almost) one piece.<\/p>\n
Lord, the place reeked of turpentine.\u00a0 Holding a hand over his mouth and nose to block some of the stink, Adam cautiously peered through the door. Movement at the corner of his eye was closely followed by the sound of pounding hooves and panicked shouts from Little Joe.<\/p>\n
\u201cShoot him, Adam! For God\u2019s sake, shoot him!\u201d<\/p>\n
A rider was galloping straight for their sanctuary, a blazing torch held high. Adam steadied himself as best he could and took aim. Eyesight ruined by the bouncing flame, he didn\u2019t even come close to hitting the mark. There was no time to adjust and try again. The rider was on top of them, tossing the torch inside and veering away to gallop out of danger.<\/p>\n
The fire caught and blazed in an instant, burning hot and fast, turning even the turpentine fumes into choking, searing agony.<\/p>\n
The cabin was full of dark thick smoke, flames spread up the walls and into the rafters. There was no way out except through the door \u2013 blocked by flames and the killer outside.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
Joe threw his useless weapons aside, his pistol and rifle empty of ammunition, and darted to the cabin. Heedless of the possible danger, he dashed around the place, looking in vain for some point of escape. He shouted words of encouragement to his family and imagined he could hear their voices in return.<\/p>\n
The smoke belched black, choking, poisonous clouds. Flames leapt as high as nearby treetops, snapping and popping. His family was going to burn to death unless he could figure out some way to save them.<\/p>\n
God, the well, he\u2019d forgotten the well. Joe pelted to the front of the house, dropping the bucket and rope down into the water. He\u2019d just started to bring a bucket back up when he was abruptly reminded of the cause of this horror. A rope snaked through the air and caught him around the middle, pinning his arms against his sides and knocking him to the ground. The rope grew taut as he was pulled, kicking and screaming, further from the conflagration a few yards away.<\/p>\n
The man on the horse was huge, bigger than Hoss. Silhouetted by the flames and smoke, his darkened form was faceless, his actions heartless. He dragged a sobbing Little Joe to a vantage point where it was evident that the fire was fully involved \u2013an inferno in which survival was impossible.<\/p>\n
Joe could see his captor more clearly, an ugly face festooned with greasy long hair and a scraggy beard. His mouth was set in a malevolent grin. His small eyes were nearly black, the pupils blown dark with arousal at the horror he\u2019d instigated.<\/p>\n
Grief choked Joe as he watched the flames consume the cabin. Remembering his pa\u2019s lessons, he prayed for them\u2014his father, his brothers \u2013 as the monster beside him rocked and moaned in profane ecstasy at the scene.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was better than I hoped for,\u201d the man muttered. \u201cCome on, boy.\u201d Putting his heels to his mount, the man jerked the rope, dragging Joe away from his family.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
When the torch hit the turpentine-soaked wood, Hoss reacted. Down on the dirt floor was the only place to be, and he knocked his father down beside him. Together, they dragged Adam into the dust.<\/p>\n
Breathing as shallow as he could manage, Hoss took charge.<\/p>\n
\u201cCheck for gaps, varmint holes, anything.\u201d The three men, crawled around the perimeter of the small building, staying with arm\u2019s reach of each other, knowing that losing sight of one of them in the smoke would mean losing him.<\/p>\n
They could hear Joe\u2019s panicked screams. His pa started to answer, to shout to his youngest, but went silent at Hoss\u2019s sharp reminder to save his breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere!\u201d Adam had spotted a weak place in the back corner, some rotted boards close to the ground. Hoss didn\u2019t remember Adam packing an axe for the journey, but there it was, and his older brother was hacking a hole into the wall as the fire began to steal what little air they had left.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet me!\u201d Ben cried, and he began to kick at the loosened boards. It was a race against time, and Hoss wasn\u2019t at all sure it was a race they were going to win. Each kick widened the opening a bit. Each kick added to the sway of the bonfire they were trapped inside.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, go!\u201d The hole was as good as it was gonna get. Adam moved first, shimmying though and catching his gun belt on one of the jagged edges for a heart stopping moment.\u00a0 As soon as he was out, Hoss manhandled his father through the opening; he pushed and Adam pulled.<\/p>\n
Hoss knew good and well that hole wasn\u2019t big enough for him. He also knew that to be a Cartwright meant he was ready to die trying. Adam was whaling at the side of the cabin with that little axe, trying to widen the hole.\u00a0 The roof was burning through, dropping burning debris around him.\u00a0 Just as Adam threw the axe aside and his father reached for him, the entire cabin collapsed in a fiery heap consuming everything.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
Joe\u2019s throat felt like it\u2019d bled raw from emotion and the smoke drifting in gray plumes around them. He\u2019d screamed himself hoarse from the moment he\u2019d seen the cabin catch fire. He\u2019d shouted blasphemous words and cried, begging Heaven for curses awful enough for the man who\u2019d done it.\u00a0 He\u2019d been dragged from the burning homestead, fighting and kicking every step of the way until they\u2019d reached a cleared scrap of dirt and boulder that was evidently the villain\u2019s campsite. He was so exhausted that when the big man wrestled him to the dirt and tied him down spread-eagle, Joe\u2019s resistance couldn\u2019t even be called token.<\/p>\n
To be honest, a lot of the fight had gone out of Little Joe Cartwright.<\/p>\n
Down there in the dirt, spread out like a chicken ready to fillet, Joe pulled at the tight rope, serving only to\u00a0 tear the sensitive skin at his wrists and ankles. When he gazed up into the night, the smokey haze barely obscured the obscene crimson pulse of the fire they\u2019d left a mile behind them.<\/p>\n
The man squatted, watching Joe cry and pray for his family.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter, boy?\u00a0 Thinking how your family cooked inside that cabin? A fire like that burns hot and fast.\u00a0 A man\u2019s hair catches fire just from the heat. Bet their clothes caught fire right away. Can\u2019t you see it?\u00a0 Them rolling around, screamin\u2019 in mortal agony as the fire took them, burning \u2018em to a crisp, leaving \u2018em nothing but a blackened corpse? Hell, what am I sayin\u2019? By morning, the sheriff won\u2019t find nothin\u2019 bigger than a knuckle bone in all the ash\u201d<\/p>\n
God, yes, Joe could see it. Seeing it in his mind\u2019s eye brought the bile up and out, and he vomited weakly over his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMe? I\u2019m the undertaker. I\u2019ll admit most undertakers wait until a body\u2019s stopped kickin\u2019 an\u2019 breathin\u2019 before they do their work. I like to start a mite earlier.\u201d The Undertaker cocked an eyebrow at Joe, wanting to make sure he\u2019d gotten the joke.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did we do to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
The Undertaker pulled a large knife from his pack, and taking up a hunk of wood, proceeded to shave thin slices from the stick. \u201cI\u2019ve been hearin\u2019 about you Cartwrights for some time. Even been collecting pieces from the newspaper.\u00a0 Wait a minute, I\u2019ll show you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Undertaker turned back to his pack, withdrawing a small wooden box, filled with newspaper clippings.<\/p>\n
\u201cListen here, this one is about your pa talkin\u2019 about running for governor.\u00a0 This one is how your brother, Adam, helped that German feller figure out a way to work the mines. All this about your family. All. About. Cartwrights.<\/p>\n
So, I said to myself.\u00a0 Here\u2019s a bunch of folks who thinks themselves pretty special. Thinks they can do and say and get what they want. I can\u2019t abide that. People like you, you\u2019re not special. You\u2019re liars. You\u2019re hypocrites.\u00a0 There ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 I hate worse than lyin\u2019 hypocrites.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not going to get away with this. The sheriff knows where we were headed. They\u2019re probably already on their way.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, they\u2019re on their way! What good would it do unless everybody knew what happened? Don\u2019t you worry about me. I\u2019ll get away just fine. Even got plenty of time to do what needs to be done with you.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
That last mighty tug pulled Hoss free and brought the house down nearly on top of them.\u00a0 Ben was a firm believer in Providential assistance, but at the risk of being ungrateful, this felt too close for comfort.<\/p>\n
Urging his sons to roll or crawl into the brush as far from the fire as their battered bodies could manage, they rested because they couldn\u2019t do anything else.<\/p>\n
Ben listened while his youngest screamed and called out for them because not one of them had the breath to respond.<\/p>\n
They watched as he was dragged away by this demon in human form. They watched because they couldn\u2019t follow. Yet.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
The Undertaker gathered his newspaper clippings and tucked them back into the wooden box.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere\u2019s what I\u2019m thinking, Cartwright. I\u2019m gonna leave you here for the posse to find. They shouldn\u2019t have no trouble. Bet you can see that fire for miles, and a blind man could follow us this far.<\/p>\n
I could leave you dead.\u00a0 Make a real mess of you with this here knife. Wouldn\u2019t be pretty, and you\u2019d bleed out long before they got here. That\u2019d send a reasonable warning to all the other liars and hypocrites.<\/p>\n
Or I could leave you here alive, in a manner of speakin\u2019. That\u2019d send a different sort of message, I reckon.<\/p>\n
It would be easy enough to take this knife to one of your legs. Put the sharp end right, here, around the joint. Hah, that made you jump! I\u2019d have that leg off in no time. Done it before. Probably do it again.<\/p>\n
What would you do with no leg? Couldn\u2019t ride and wrangle steers, could ya? Couldn\u2019t dance with the local belles. Would you sit and beg for whiskey in the alley and street?<\/p>\n
I could take off this hand, right there. I could trace a cut right around your wrist. I\u2019d watch the blood seep and drip down your arm.\u00a0 See how pretty that looks? After this first cut, it\u2019s short work and I\u2019ll have that hand off. If I took \u2018em both, you\u2019d be the worst sort of cripple. Couldn\u2019t dress yourself. Couldn\u2019t take a piss by yourself. Gotta tell you I was planning that before I got a look at you.<\/p>\n
Now, seeing what a nice-looking feller you are, I\u2019m thinking about working on your face.\u00a0 I can flay you to the bone, cut off your nose and ears, gouge out your eyes. Your days of coaxing pretty young things into haylofts romps are over.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m feelin\u2019 generous. Anything you think you could lose? Something you think you can live without?\u201d<\/p>\n
To his great surprise, his victim began to laugh. It wasn\u2019t the hysterical laughter of a mind coming unhinged with fear.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t a sardonic chuckle of false bravado. This was the sound of genuine amusement.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou sorry son of a bitch. I\u2019ve already lost everything. Take what you want.\u201d<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
They weren\u2019t well enough to ride. Their burns needed tending. Hoss\u2019s wound needed stitching. Lungs seared by fire needed time to mend. They\u2019d been through hell, and they needed to recover.<\/p>\n
Recovery would wait until they\u2019d rescued Joe.<\/p>\n
They heard his cries of anguish as they neared the camp. They rode in fast and hard, guns blazing and the Undertaker fell, his lifeless eyes staring at the night sky with the bloody knife clutched in his hand.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t that the pain stopped, but the Undertaker wasn\u2019t hurting him anymore. Hands touched him gently and tended his wounds. Familiar voices soothed and prayed for him, Joe would know them anywhere. This was his family. He\u2019d seen them die, but here they were.<\/p>\n
Thank God. Joe thought he\u2019d lost everything.<\/p>\n
~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n
\u201cThat the Cartwright kid?\u201d Albie Schwartz jerked his thumb in the direction of the man sitting in the buckboard outside the mercantile.<\/p>\n
Roy paused sweeping around the front door of the jail. \u201cYeah, that\u2019s him. Why do you wanna know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo reason,\u201d Albie was trying his best to stare without looking like he was staring. \u201cJust heard, you know, stories.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople would be better off mindin\u2019 their own business.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, sure, no doubt.\u201d Albie didn\u2019t want no lawman irked with him, and Roy looked just a mite put out. Trouble was, Albie never had a lot of success minding his own business . . . or even, just keeping his mouth shut. \u201cThing is, lots of people say young Cartwright used to be something, um, before . . . you know, he lost . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
The words died in the drifter\u2019s throat when Roy dropped that broom and stepped real close.<\/p>\n
Whatever the sheriff had been about to say was interrupted by a bark of laughter from young Cartwright.\u00a0 He\u2019d been joined by an older, white-haired man and two younger fellows. Even from a distance, Albie couldn\u2019t have missed the signs of camaraderie, the gestures of affection, and the mingling of voices that spoke volumes of loving support.\u00a0 That was a family, pure and simple, in the best definition of the word.<\/p>\n
It was a scene worth watching, and so Roy and Albie watched until the wagon was packed, horses were mounted and the group took their sweet time starting on a journey made better because they were taking it together.<\/p>\n
Roy gave a hard sniff and a swipe across his face.\u00a0 He stepped away from Albie a bit, making his next words more conversation than threat.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee, Albie, that\u2019s where everyone is wrong. Cartwright ain\u2019t lost nothin\u2019 important.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The End<\/p>\n
Author\u2019s Note:<\/p>\n
Written for the 2021 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.\u00a0\u00a0 The game was Five Card Draw and the words and\/or phrases I was dealt were:<\/p>\n
Undertaker
\nUnder a pale moon
\nAlley
\nFire
\nHayloft<\/p>\n