Читать книгу Settling The Score - George McLane Wood - Страница 49

Chapter Twelve

Lester sank slowly to his knees in the middle of the road, both his hands clutching at the fire in his guts. Jeff closed on him, cautiously; he’d been around rattlers enough to know they could lash out quick if a body got too close. Lester was down for good, but he wasn’t out yet, and he was suffering bad. That was good! Jeff felt no pride for shooting Lester and no remorse either. It was Lester or him, plain and simple. It had been a long time since the war that Jeff had killed a man like this, but this man needed killing, and he wasn’t gonna be the last one Jeff killed, not by a long shot. Jeff kicked Lester’s shooter away, knowing he wouldn’t need it where he was going. Jeff wanted him to suffer some before he died.

“Does that hurt, Lester?” Facing him, Jeff squatted as he looked him in the face and asked, “Did you feel that? Are you hurting bad, you killer?” Jeff was hunkered down in the dirt and watching him, and Lester watched back, clinching his jaws in pain.

“You killed both my friends, didn’t you! You knifed Bo when he wasn’t looking, and you bushwhacked Smitty like the low-down dirty coward you are! You bastard. And you killed my wife, didn’t you! Are you hurting? Are you suffering, you saddle scum?’

Lester grimaced, bright-red blood was running out of both corners of his mouth, and through gritted teeth, he whispered, “I ain’t sorry, Jeff, I enjoyed her before we killed her.” Lester suffered some more until he began to puke up bright red gobs of drowning blood, and then coughing and strangling, he collapsed in the middle of the road and died.

Jeff stood up and looked down at Lester’s corpse. “I’m still suffering too, you bastard, but I’m not done killing yet,” Jeff said loudly as he reloaded Winnie’s belly with .44-40 cartridges.

“Jesus save us,” Ed moaned, turned his back to Jeff, bent over, and lost all the jerky and water he’d consumed since breakfast.

“Third chore’s done, Sally. I have two more chores to go!” murmured Jeff Nelson quietly through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Ed. Shape up, old friend. Let’s keep moving.”