Lawless Liberty Ch 05

June 7, 1883

-Justin Ivey-

After I read the letter Damon wrote to Jesus, I fold it back into itself and start digging a grave. I am uncertain of how many graves I should be digging. I am three feet deep, three feet wide, and seven feet tall before I stop to rest. I sit with my feet in the grave and look at the smoldering rubble of the house. I cannot believe how this turned out.

"Hope you don't mind I put you in a little shallow," I say to Damon's body. I carefully drag him to the grave and roll him inside. I start shoveling the dirt back in, the noon sun beating down on me. Within the next hour he is buried, and I lean on the shovel to catch my breath.

I hear horses coming, and the plural has me concerned. I walk around the front of the barn, and see the riders approaching. This is about to end, one way or another. I still have the six-shooter strapped to my hip, but I have a feeling it is not going to be helpful.

I can see Kennan Hardgrave riding abreast with Jesus and Jessica. I am glad he achieved getting her back. It looks like Hardgrave brought the whole gang. He came riding in with eleven men. All the men who are left.

Jesus dismounts first, then helps Jessica off the horse. I answer the question that is on their faces before they ask, and Jesus drops his head. "He's buried on the side of the barn."

"Where's Liberty?" Jesus asks, and I shake my head. "Don't protect her."

"I'm not, she's gone," I say, and Jesus looks over at Hardgrave, who gestures to him. "You took the deal I turned down?" I ask.

"I was going to kill her regardless. She's a murderer," Jesus says, and then draws his revolver. "My deal was, if she was gone, I need a substitute."

I pull my revolver and aim it up at him first. He calmly raises the revolver up, Hardgrave watching with a smile on his face.

"Get it over with Jesus," Hardgrave says to Jesus, who then pulls the hammer back on the revolver.

"You have nothing to gain. Jesus knows where the money is. Take it and leave," I say, and Hardgrave chuckles.

"Look son, some things in life are more important than money. This is about retribution. My men are dead. A whole lot of them. More than I'm comfortable with. Someone is going to answer for that. You had the chance to turn over the bitch. You're the reason she got away."

"Damon wrote you a letter," I say to Jesus who tilts his gun over to look at me better. "He figured it might be the last one."

"Where is it?" Jesus asks.

"We don't have the time to be exchanging love letters," Hardgrave says, and Jesus tilts back.

"In my pocket," I say, touching my hip with the opposite hand.

"What does it say?" he asks.

"It said you might do something like this," I say, and Jesus lowers the gun a little. "But in the end, you were always the Sheriff. It was never him. Damon said he acted vacant as Sheriff, so the whole town would you see working. See you taking care of them. So, when he retired, Utopia would have no problem making it official. He's sorry it didn't happen that way, so he picked an idiot liable to piss the town off. He didn't plan on Leavenworth being worth anything."

"Anything else?" Jesus asks.

"He said he knew about you and Jessica. He said nothing because he approved and wanted you to marry her. He always treated you like a son, and he'd be damned proud to have you really be his son," I say, and Jesus's hand is now shaking.

This is not what the Sheriff would do, and he knows it. Damon's final words were asking him to be a good man. The man he always had been. Be a good man for the town, and for his daughter. Jesus starts lowering the gun.

"Fuck this," Hardgrave says, just before he draws his revolver, and shoots me. I wobble back and fall to my back on the ground. My hand grasps my stomach where he hit, and I roll to my side.

"Justin!" I hear Jessica shout, and her feet running to me.

"Stay back!" Jesus shouts at her, and she looks up at him, but does not stop trying to help me. "Get back!"

"No! I won't be a part of this! You'll have to shoot through me," Jessica says, standing with her arms raised to her sides.

"Don't," I grunt from the ground, trying to get back to my feet. "Go to the barn."

"I ain't leaving you," she says to me. "What would Daddy think of this?" she asks him.

"I reckon he's not thinking a whole lot right now," Hardgrave says, then pulls the hammer back. "I will shoot through you."

Jesus turns and puts the gun on him. "That wasn't the deal."

"The deal was you shoot him if the girl wasn't here. You're the one not meeting your end. Get her out of the way, or I will," Hardgrave says, and Jesus turns back to Jessica and me.

"Go to the barn. Damon left you something," I say, and she looks at me over her shoulder. "Go."

"Move Jessica. The boy's ready and willing. He knows how it ends," Hardgrave says. I struggle to my feet, one hand on my stomach with blood spilling through my fingers, and the other with the gun raised to him. Jessica moves out of the way and walks into the barn. "I'll give you gift. You got ten seconds to pull the trigger boy."

I hiss through my teeth as I aim, and I wait for something to happen. Ten seconds is an awfully long time.

"Ten. Nine," Hardgrave taunts as I hold the gun up. "Eight. Seven."

"Daddy left me this?" Jessica asks from the barn.

"Six. Five."

"He sure did. On two," I say.

"Four. Three," Hardgrave says, and I drop the hammer.

"Jesus, now or never," I say, and he looks confused. Then he sees Jessica step out with the coach gun.

"Two," Hardgrave says, just as he sees it.

"Now!" I shout, shooting one of the men behind Hardgrave. Jesus got the message and fires his entire cylinder on the run, hitting four of them. Jessica fires the coach gun at Hardgrave who dove down at the last second. I get another three rounds out before I feel another round punch into my shoulder. I stumble toward the barn, Jesus tackling me inside.

--

June 7, 1883

-Jessica-

I fire the coach gun at Hardgrave, but he ducks, and I hit the man behind him. Jesus shoots as he runs, tackling Justin inside and pulling me down by the arm.

"Kill them all!" Hardgrave shouts, and they start unloading into the barn.

"Down!" Jesus shouts, pulling me down to shield me with his body.

I can hear the bullets whip over us. Dust is kicked up from the hay. The wooden walls blast into splinters. Justin grunts as a bullet hits his shin. If Jesus was hit, I did not see or hear it.

When the gun fire subsides, Jesus quickly gets to this feet and rushes to the open door. One of them tries to force his way in, but Jesus punches him in the face. The man is thrown him backwards into the barn, and I bash his head in with the coach gun.

Jesus shuts the barn door and instructs us to move into firing positions toward the back. I help Justin make a makeshift firing position because he cannot lift his left arm anymore.

"Ammo?" Jesus asks.

"Four rounds with the coach gun," I say, Justin handing me his revolver so I can reload it. "How many did we get?"

"I think six," Jesus says. "I'm sorry I even thought about it."

"Don't be, when it mattered, you're here," Justin says, looking for something to press into his wounds. "They might just burn us out."

"I know," Jesus says, reloading his revolver, and then counting the bullets he has left. We do not have the ammunition to miss a shot.

"Burn it down!" Hardgrave shouts.

"Shit," Justin says, and wobbles to the wall on the side of the door. He peaks through a crack and sees them readying something to start a fire with. He motions to me to come over. Justin pats his palm against the wall, and mouths for me to fire through it. I put the coach gun to the side of the barn, and fire.

We hear it tear through one of them, and Justin quickly peeks out to see if he can get a shot off through the hole. Justin cannot focus his aim fast enough, so he is shot instead. Justin fires blindly as he falls back, and I scramble to drag him away from the hole as more shots come through. He kicks with his good foot to help me best he can. I can see that last one got him square in the chest.

"Throw it through that hole!" Hardgrave shouts. Jesus covers the hole and fires a few rounds to keep them back. They fire back through, and he ducks behind some hay, then aims over and finishes the cylinder. He quickly reloads, fumbling a few rounds. Justin throws his revolver to Jesus with his waning strength.

Before he can fire another round, we hear more shooting, but further away, and Hardgrave's men start falling.

"The hell was that?" Jesus asks.

"Use it," Justin groans. Jesus in the confusion of the other shooter, rushes out the door, and starts firing. He swivels his aim but is charged by Hardgrave. They wrestle next to the door, before Hardgrave throws him onto the ground in the barn. I swing the coach gun to him, but he catches the barrel and punches me in the face. I fall back, landing next to Jesus's gun.

Jesus draws his knife, but Hardgrave drops the coach gun to catch his wrist. After a struggle, Hardgrave begins turning the blade. Hardgrave pivots and pulls, taking Jesus off balance to drive his knee into Jesus's stomach. They tumble to the ground with Hardgrave on top, trying to push the blade down on his throat.

I grab the gun, but I have no line of sight, but they're too close and I'm too far. Justin could get a better shot.

"Justin!" I shout, as the gun lands on the side of his body he cannot move. He leans over himself, grips the gun, aims, and fires. He is also too uneven to hit him, but it startles him. Enough for Jesus to turn the knife away and push him off.

Hardgrave starts to stand but sees Justin, and ducks out of the way of the next shot. I see sun light blast through the hole of the barn, and Justin fires again as Hardgrave rolls away, dust and dirt kicking up where he just was. Before Justin can fire, Hardgrave punches him across the face and snatches the gun away. Hardgrave aims and fires at Jesus who has the knife, but the gun clicks empty.

Hardgrave puts his hand up, the knife stabbing straight through it. He shouts in pain, pressing his opposite hand to his wrist to keep Jesus from pushing it toward him. After a brief struggle, Hardgrave pivots hard, but Jesus does not fall for it twice and charges into him with his shoulder. They fall back to the ground with Jesus on Hardgrave's back.

Hardgrave tries to push him off, but the knife in his hand makes it too difficult. Jesus pins his wrist down and pulls the knife. Hardgrave curses in agony, but his cries are cut short when the knife is rammed through the back of his head.

Jesus rolls off him, gasping from rapid, shallow breaths. He turns his head to Justin, and sees the sorry state he is in.

"We got him," Justin, then coughs blood on the ground.

"We need to get you to Doc Wilson," Jesus says, climbing to his feet to help him. We both try to lift him, but he has no energy. "Come on, get up."

"I can't anymore," he says, grunting in pain and wheezing from the effort.

"Justin?" I hear a voice from the bar door say. We all turn and see Liberty entering the bar with a revolver in her hand and a rifle strapped to her back.

Jesus sees the gun next to Hardgrave and picks it up. He seems to forget it was empty a moment ago, because I hear the metallic click. He throws it to the ground in anger and sees the coach gun nearby. Liberty does nothing as he picks it up and aims it.

"You did this," Jesus says, seething in rage. Liberty slips her revolver back into her holster.

"I didn't mean to," Liberty says, and Jesus shaking, throws that gun to the ground too.

"You came back," Justin says, and she nods. She walks over and kneels next to him.

"Not soon enough," she says, and he laughs a little, which causes a coughing fit.

"No. Just in time," he says, and she gives him a sad smile. "Damon said you would."

"I'm sorry," she says, and I can see her eyes focus on his wounds, before drifting back to his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Your brother would be proud you came back," he says.

Liberty places her hand on his white face. She gives him a faint, teary eyed smile. Her sparkly eyed face is the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes forever.

--

June 7, 1883

-Liberty-

Justin's skin is cold to the touch, and the smile he has, even this close to death makes me grin. He was something different, and he never acted the way you expected him to, regardless of the circumstance. A banker who would rush into danger, and yet somehow has always managed to walk out. Until now. True to character he did not go without a fight.

Justin closes his eyes and I feel his face lean against my hand. I rub my thumb across his cheek and blink the tears from my eyes.

"Is he?" I hear Jessica ask. I sniff loudly, rise to my feet, and nod to her.

When you plot revenge, dig two graves. "Your father?" I ask, and she shakes her head. I need to dig three.

"I never meant for any of this," I say, and Jesus takes a step and punches me in the face. I manage to keep my footing, and not topple over Justin's body.

"Jesus," Jessica says, grabbing the hand that just struck me. "No more. Let her go."

"I'm not letting her go. She's going to swing," Jesus says, and I'm ready for that. I am ready to stand at the gallows and feel the life choke out of me.

"Let her go," Jessica pleads.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," I say.

"You won't be forgiven. Just forgotten," he says, and steps out of my way. "Never come back."

I do not say anything more. He cannot even look me as I leave the barn. As I walk to the horse, I see the grave Justin buried Damon in. I stand in front of it, taking off my hat to give them both a moment of silence. After the moment is over, I draw Conrad's revolver, crouch down, and lay it on the dirt. I do not need it anymore. I straighten myself upright and walk to Lucius.

"Time to go Lucius," I say into his ear. He exhales, and I am sure he said something about being ready to ride.

--

June 8, 1883

-Jesus-

Jessica and I spent the day cleaning up the mess and burying the bodies. I cover Justin and Hardgrave the best I can because I plan on burying them somewhere closer to Utopia. We sleep in the barn for the night, then carry the bodies back in the wagon. I remember riding in it when I first arrived in Utopia a few years ago. I read the letter from Damon I found on Justin on the ride over.

Not long after the first citizen saw us, the whole town seems to gather around the wagon as it parked outside of the Sheriff's office. I ask for help to carry Justin's body out, and we carefully lay it on the ground. I kick Hardgrave out of the wagon. He thuds to the ground, the crowd jumping back in shock.

"That is Kennan Hardgrave. He ran the Twenty-Two Bust Gang. Him and his men, forced Justin to rob the bank. He didn't make it, but we got the jump on them," I say, and the crowd looks at the bodies.

"What about Lawless Liberty?" a citizen asks. I look at Jessica who nods at me. I turn back to the citizen. "What about the person who killed the Sheriff?"

"She's in a grave outside of town," I say, and hold up her revolver. "This was her gun."

"Justin helped them!" Hal Primrose shouts from the crowd. The population splits some, so I have a straight line of sight to him. "Justin was in league with those criminals."

"That's not what Hardgrave said, right before I had to kill him," I say, then jump off the wagon. I take a step forward, and he takes one backward. "Liberty hid the money after she stole their stagecoach. I couldn't get it out of her before they killed her. But I do know, you made a deal to wipe away your debt."

"Preposterous," he says, and I start walking to him. He panics and runs through the crowd. His own banker Eugene Schmidt grabs onto him, then throws him to the ground. "Let me go!"

"It's true," Eugene says. "Primrose is bankrupt. This is just the scam he needed."

"We need a new Sheriff," someone in the crowd says, and I face the voice. I touch the letter from Damon I had placed in my pocket.

You've always been the Sheriff.

"I'm the Sheriff," I say, and the crowd begins to murmur to themselves. I'm waiting for someone to say otherwise.

"If we voted on it, he'd get my vote," I hear, and the crowd turns to Hilbert French on his crutches. The only man in town who tried to stop Liberty. "I didn't see anyone else riding after them. That was Jesus. He's been the deputy for years, why not Sheriff?"

The crowd talks amongst itself again, and I hear a voice second. Then another third. Any voice that would have challenged is now too scared.

"As Sheriff, I'm placing Hal Primrose under arrest for conspiring with the Bust gang," I say. The crowd parts as I drag him kicking and screaming.

I lock him into the cell, still cursing at me. As I walk to the front of the building, I see Liberty's poster on the wall, and tear it down.

--

October 10, 1883

The chill of fall is starting to bite its way into town. It is not outright cold yet, but the air is drier, and it feels like it will snow any day now. Historically that is still a month or two away, but it certainly feels like it.

Primrose swung after I searched his home and found correspondence he wrote to Hardgrave. The bank is now managed by Eugene who got himself a well-deserved promotion. The town went through an economic slump for over a month before the insurance claim was settled, but we got through.

Kennan Hardgrave was buried in a marked grave with no name. Just a simple cross so people know someone is down there. Justin was buried behind the church with the other people from the town who have died over the years.

I am about to start my rounds, but before I leave the station, Eugene enters holding a letter in his hand.

"Eugene? Need something?" I ask.

"I'm here to talk to Jesus, not the Sheriff," Eugene says. I smile, offering him a chair which he declines, saying he will not be long. "This was delivered to the bank today."

Eugene hands over the letter, and I see it is addressed to Justin. When I turn it over, I read it was sent by Rosaline Culligan.

"The old teacher?" I ask, and he nods.

"Her and Justin were close. I don't have the heart to write back and let her know. You were with him at the end, right?" he asks, and I nod. "Maybe you can explain what happened better than I could."

"Sure," I say, and he gives me a somber smile, then leaves with his hands in his pockets.

I tear open the letter, sitting back down to read it, and sigh at its contents. Jessica enters the station after I have absorbed the letter and leans over my shoulder to read it at the desk.

"Who's that from?"

"Rosaline to Justin," I say, and stand up. "I'm going to reply. But in person. This isn't something you give a letter for."

"Want me to come with?" Jessica asks.

"No. I need to do this myself."

-

October 19, 1883

I depart the train in Omaha which is bustling with activity compared to Utopia. It takes me several hours, but I eventually find the address listed on the letter Rosaline had sent Justin. I find the schoolhouse before I find her home and wait outside until class was done for the day. After the children vacate the room, I step inside, my footsteps alerting her. Rosaline raises her head, and it takes a moment for her to recognize me.

"Jesus?" she asks, and I nod, her standing up from her desk and walking around it. "Why are you in Omaha."

I hold up the letter, and she looks at it for a moment. It does not take her long to discern why I am here and not Justin. Rosaline looks down, inhales hard once, and exhales slowly.

"When?" she asks.

"Back in June," I say, and she nods.

"How?"

"Twenty-Two Bust Gang," I reply, and she looks at me. "He took them with him."

"Did you read it?" she asks, and I nod.