Escape with the Dream Maker by Gilbert L. Morris Read Free Book Online

supper?”
    â€œOh, I had a bite.” Reb looked anxiously at the Dream Maker. “I got an idea about something I’d like to do.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œThere used to be a TV documentary all about Wyatt Earp facin’ down a bunch of mean guys called the Clantons. Doc Holliday was in it too.”
    â€œYes, I have that. Lots of pretty serious action in there. Are you sure you’d like to try it?”
    â€œSure,” Reb said quickly. “If you don’t mind going to all that trouble.”
    â€œWhy, it’s no trouble at all. Here, sit down, and we’ll get you hooked up.”
    Reb almost ran to the dream machine. His days were boring, and he lived now for these exciting adventuresat night. Secretly he wished he could stay in the Dream Maker chair all the time and dream, but he was afraid to say so. He hid his impatience while Oliver gave him a glass with the colorless liquid in it. He drank it down.
    Oliver smiled as he took a seat across from him. “Think about the OK Corral.” He moved his dials and then turned and began speaking softly in a singsong voice. “You’re going to sleep now, and you’re going to wake up in the OK Corral . . .”
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    The sun was hot, and the gun belt pulled at his thigh. Far ahead to his right, a tall man wearing a raincoat and carrying a shotgun moved steadily ahead. That was Wyatt Earp, Reb knew. To his left walked another man, smaller, carrying a pistol loosely in his left hand. This was Doc Holliday. Morgan, Wyatt’s brother, was on the other side.
    Suddenly, down the street, Reb caught the flash of movement.
    â€œThere they are, boys,” Wyatt Earp said. “Be sure you let them start it.”
    â€œThey’ll start it all right,” Doc Holliday said grimly. “They’re out to get you, Wyatt. Ike Clanton said he’d kill you.” He turned to Reb. “You sure that gun’s loaded?”
    Reb said deep in his throat, “Don’t worry about me, Doc. You won’t find me behind when the shootin’ starts.”
    â€œI like a young fella that feels his oats,” Doc Holliday said. “Good thing this boy joined us, Wyatt.”
    Wyatt Earp was a serious-looking man. His reputation as a gunfighter was legendary, and Reb felt a thrill as he looked into the sheriff’s gray-blue eyes.
    â€œGlad to have you, Reb, but it’s dangerous, you understand.”
    â€œI reckon I understand that,” Reb said. Then he looked down the street again. “Look, there’s Billy Clanton.”
    Reb advanced with the lawmen, his nerves growing tense. He knew that soon the air would be filled with flying lead, that men would lie wounded and some dying. He did not know why it was, but danger made him more aware of life. It had always been like this. He’d always had to dive off the highest bridge and risk breaking his neck. He’d always been the one to tackle the most dangerous task with his buddies. Now he was in the most dangerous game of all.
    â€œLook out—Clanton’s shootin’!” Morgan Earp yelled.
    A shot rang out, breaking the stillness of the afternoon.
    Reb pulled his Colt .44 Peacemaker smoothly from its holster. It came out easily. In one motion he pulled the hammer back and put the sight on the figure of Billy Clanton, who was shooting as fast as he could. Reb’s finger tightened on the Colt’s trigger—and then the gun exploded, and he felt the revolver kick back in his hand . . .
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    â€œWake up! Wake up, Reb. Well, how was it?”
    Reb shook his head. It was an abrupt jolt coming back from the dust and gunfire and excitement of the OK Corral to find himself in the dream machine chair with Oliver sitting across from him. He shook his head. “It was great, Oliver. I just hated to quit.”
    â€œYou can go back anytime you want.”
    â€œCan I do it right now?” Reb said