The Savage Gun by Jory Sherman Page B

you out of your misery if you tell me where Ollie and the others are going. Where they’re going to hole up and wait for you.”
    â€œYou won’t do it.”
    â€œYes, I will. One little squeeze of the trigger and your lamp goes out. Real quick. Real painless. Just tell me what I want to know and it’ll be over just like that. You won’t even feel the bullet.”
    â€œChrist.”
    â€œYeah, you can pray, too, Luke. And go on suffering. I don’t mind that. I’m suffering. Let me tell you about Pa, Dan Savage. We haven’t got to him yet, but he was a man to ride the river with, Luke. Best father a boy could have. Hunted with him, fished with him, farmed with him, broke bread with him at my mother’s fine table, with my little sister right by his side every night, adoring him as much as my mother did.”
    â€œNo more, Savage.”
    â€œOh, there’s a lot more, Luke. There’s my pa, and my uncle. Yeah, you killed him, too. And Ben’s brother. Maybe he’ll tell you about his brother, Leland; we called him Lee. A hell of a guy.”
    â€œPueb . . .”
    â€œWhat’s that, Luke?”
    â€œPueblo,” Luke gasped. “Ollie. Goin’ to Pueblo.”
    â€œAh, Pueblo. And, where in Pueblo were you going to meet him?”
    â€œCan . . .”
    â€œCan’t hear you, Luke.”
    â€œCantina.”
    â€œWhat’s the name of the cantina, Luke? Hell, we’re almost there. You won’t have to bear the awful pain much longer. Just tell me the name of the cantina.”
    Luke convulsed as pain shot through his innards like molten fire. He sucked in a breath and the air stayed in his lungs a long time, as if it was never going to come out.
    â€œRosa,” Luke growled, as if the sand in his throat had turned to gravel. “Rosa’s Cantina. On Calle Vaca. Now, do it, Savage. Do what you done promised.”
    Ben rode up, leading John’s horse. Lightning swept the sky in jagged streaks, the thunder following almost immediately, a great roaring in the sky, a thousand cannons belching at once, cannonballs rolling across the hollow deck of a huge ship and fading into the distance, like the faint echoes of long-ago storms.
    Ben had his slicker on, and he held John’s in his hand.
    â€œHere you go, John,” Ben said. When John looked up, Ben tossed the wadded raincoat down at John. It landed next to him, in a crumpled heap, like a yellow bird fallen from the sky.
    Luke groaned.
    John picked up his slicker, stood up. He slid his arms through it and snugged it up.
    â€œNow?” Luke said. “You goin’ to send me on my way now, Savage? I done told you want you want to know.”
    John looked down at Luke. His face bore almost no expression.
    â€œDo you know what penance is, Luke?”
    â€œNo. Just get it over with, will you?”
    â€œPenance is the price you pay for your sins. That’s what the preacher told us. Now, that’s what you’re going to do now. You’re going to do penance.”
    John picked up Luke’s pistol and tucked it inside his belt.
    Then he climbed on his horse.
    â€œYou just going to leave him, Johnny?” Ben said.
    â€œYeah, Ben. I ain’t no cold-blooded killer like old Luke there. I shot him in a fair fight, and that’s as far as I’ll go. This day, anyways.”
    â€œYou know something, Johnny?”
    â€œSomething?”
    â€œYou got all the makings of a real bastard.”
    John turned Gent and began to ride away as the first stalks of rain speared through the pine branches, splattering on their slickers. A lightning flash splashed across Luke’s face, a face frozen in terror. Rain spattered into his mouth and eyes and he tried to sit up. He stretched out a hand as if reaching for something. Something that was no longer there. Then he fell back. There was an ominous rattle in his throat and the breath he expelled was his