Comstock Cross Fire by Gary Franklin Read Free Book Online

Holt said with a frown. “I’ve shot and killed plenty of men and they either die . . . or they wake up screamin’ and moanin’. Are you sure Joe is still out cold?”
    Fiona tried to look him in the eye when she said, “Of course I am!”
    â€œWe’ll see,” Holt said, drawing his pistol and starting toward Joe Moss.
    â€œWhat are you going to do!” Fiona cried, running around in front of the giant, trying to block his path. “What are you going to do to Joe!”
    â€œI’m gonna wake him up,” Moss spat. “Now stand aside, woman.”
    â€œNo, please!”
    Holt backhanded her hard enough to send Fiona sprawling. Then he marched up to Joe Moss and cocked his gun. “Open your eyes, you sonofabitch, or I’ll shoot your balls off right now!”
    Joe didn’t move or open his eyes.
    â€œOkay,” Holt said, cocking back the hammer of his gun. “I’m gonna castrate you with bullets!”
    Holt fired, and the bullet struck the dirt right under Joe’s crotch. Joe jumped and tried to kick out with a leg and trip the big man, but he was so weak that he failed, and then he tried to get up and fight, but couldn’t.
    Fiona threw herself at Holt, but he slapped her down to the dirt again and looked amused at their failed trickery.
    â€œMy, oh, my!” Holt crowed as he stepped back. “Look at what we got here. A man pretending to be almost dead suddenly wakes up fighting mad!”
    Joe was breathing hard and feeling weaker than a kitten, but even so he made a grab for his bowie knife, only to discover that it was gone.
    â€œAll right,” Holt said. “Pretend time is over. Moss, tell your woman she had better not try to attack me again or I’ll kill her on the spot.”
    Joe’s mouth was so dry and his voice so weak that he didn’t even try to respond to that threat.
    â€œFiona, you go get your chains and shackles lyin’ over there in the dirt. The ones you wore when Jedediah and Ike had you all to themselves. Then I want you to chain yourself to your husband.”
    â€œBut . . . but how am I supposed to tend to his wounds if . . .”
    â€œFigure it out, you skinny slut!”
    Holt turned his gun on her and for just a moment, Fiona was sure that he was going to go berserk and kill her right then and there. “All right! All right,” she cried, scrambling to her feet and running to retrieve the hated chains and shackles she’d been wearing for weeks.
    â€œPut ’em on tight. Attach your right leg to his left leg. Your right arm to his left arm. That’s it. Nice and tight.”
    When they were shackled together side by side lying in the dirt, all the hope that Fiona had been secretly carrying in her heart bled away and she began to cry.
    Joe cleared his throat and whispered, “This ain’t the end of us, Fiona. Just because we had a little setback here don’t mean we’re whipped. Don’t give up on us.”
    Fiona nodded through her tears, but she was beginning to think that their string of terrible luck just wasn’t ever going to end and they would eventually wind up swinging from a rope in distant Virginia City.
    â€œHang on to your senses,” Joe urged, trying to squeeze her hand. “I’ve been in worse fixes than this and come out alive.”
    â€œBut you’ve never been chained to me in such a near-hopeless fix as we’re in right now.”
    â€œBein’ chained to you makes it all easier,” he lied. “Makes it more of a challenge maybe, but easier somehow.”
    â€œI don’t understand that,” she replied.
    â€œIt don’t matter, Fiona. The thing of it is that you just keep believin’ that we’re gonna make it out of this alive and someday have our daughter and live happy all together.”
    â€œAre you serious, Joe? You sure you’re not just telling me that to make me feel better