Doctor Who: The Gunfighters (13 page)

‘You mean, you know where they are?’ interrupted Steven.

‘Reckon I can maybe calculate same. The Doc generally leaves a trail like a herd of waltzing caribou when he’s pushed!’

‘Then we should be extremely grateful for your assistance,’ said the Doctor.

Ringo smiled like a scar. ‘Proud to be of service! There’s jest one thing: kindred spirits as we may be, you get yourself between me an’ him, boy, an’ I’ll blast you down, soon as spit at you! Remember that?’

Steven promised he’d bear it in mind. And it was further arranged that the Doctor would be more gainfully employed by staying where he damn’ well was for once; because it might not be a bad idea, at that, if he was to tell Wyatt Earp of the march of events.

And so this is how it came about, that shortly thereafter, a passing vulture observed Two-gun Steven Regret, Terror of the Spaceways, in company with his new partner, Johnny Ringo, Death’s understudy and master of the Latin tag, swallowing Holliday’s dust on the trail to Purgatory Bend.

The vulture followed along. After all, you never knew...

20

After their departure, the Doctor trudged glumly back to the nerve-centre of crime prevention and law enforcement; and was surprised to find himself in the presence of, not one, but a whole confabulation of Earps! Which wasn’t no glee party, neither... because herein lies a sadness...

Wyatt’s call for reinforcements had been answered right speedily by the rest of the clan; who had at once dropped whatever criminal they’d happened to be beating the nonsense out of at the time, and ridden in from all available points of the compass. Nothing remarkable in that: it’s what brothers do when one of their number becomes a mite over-extended. As witness the Clantons, on the extension to his full length of the departed Reuben.

So now Virgil Earp, the eldest, was here; and Warren Earp was here; and Morgan Earp, the youngest, was also among those present: with the trifling difference, in the case of the latter, that he was now dead as a beetled elm tree; which, strictly speaking, made him no age at all.

Added to which, Virgil had got himself a dose of buck-shot in his gun-arm; a thing which will generally slow you down some. So, at a rough estimate, that left Warren as the only functional addition to the strength of the angels.

Near as one can tell, in face of the conflicting reports lately current, what had happened was this – or near enough.

The previous night, Ike and Billy Clanton, having left their message for Ringo, were riding home full of zip and buck, to announce to their proud parent that when it came to a matter of asking around, they were the best available.

And, in this exalted frame of mind, they had encountered young Morgan who, rightly speaking, shouldn’t have been out that late, as he was riding in from Dodge.

Words had been exchanged; and, since these were in no way civil, bullets had swiftly followed. Which, at those odds, and considering Morgan’s inexperience, had made the outcome as inevitable as the Clantons had calculated. A fine, old fashioned bush-wacking, in fact.

It was while they were examining their trophy, that Virgil had ridden up, to enquire – remember, it was dark, and the parties had not previously met – if he could be of any assistance.

‘Sure!’ they said, ‘Hold this!’ And they had blasted him from the saddle with a shotgun they happened to have along. Leaving him for dead, they had then tittupped onwards; confident that their subsequent debriefing by Pa would be an occasion for joy, not unmired with gladness.

And, after a pause for stock-taking, Virgil had pulled as much of himself together as he could find, and ridden in with both the news and his brother’s body.

It was just this time that the Doctor chose to come a-calling.

Always a forbidding figure, Wyatt now put the Doctor in mind of a chariot of wrath, forming deep thunderclouds on its way to preside at The Last Judgement, with something of a hangover!

‘That does it!’ Wyatt hissed. ‘Bat – drag Phineas in here

– and I don’t mean gentle!’

Phineas, now restored to what, in his case, passed for consciousness, had been an interested audience to Virgil’s story and was consequently apprehensive.

‘It warn’t my fault!’ he claimed; ‘You know I bin here all night – sleepin’ like a... like a...’ What in hell was innocent when it slept? ‘Like a snow-bound gopher!’ he finally achieved. ‘You cain’t take it out on me!’

‘He’s right, Wyatt,’ warned Bat. ‘He’s a prisoner in legal custody! We don’t want no crusadin’ gaol-reform articles, on top of all!’

‘I ain’t gonna hurt him none,’ said Wyatt, grimly.

‘Know what I’m gonna do with you?’ he asked the palsied captive.

‘What?’ enquired Phineas, interested in spite. of himself.

‘Why, I’m gonna open the door, an’ let you walk right out of here. How about that?’

‘You can’t do that, either,’ Bat objected. ‘I tell you, he’s a...’ ‘Aimin’ to stop me, Bat?’

‘Well, no, Wyatt – but I thought I’d best mention it...’

‘You crazy?’ asked Warren. ‘There’s more than enough Clantons out there, the way it is!’

‘Don’t tell me nothin’ about the Clantons, Warren!

Don’t even breathe their foul name!’ He turned back to Phineas. ‘An’
when
you get outside, boy; soon as the bright air of freedom is a-bubblin’ in your nostrils, I want fer you to ride on out to your Pa, an’ give him a message from me!’

‘What’ll I say?’ enquired Phineas, anxious to get it right.

‘Tell him that come sun-up tomorrow, me an’ Warren an’ Bat’ll be waitin’ fer him an’ the rest of his hell-spawn at the O.K. Corral! Say it loud an’ clear, Phineas, with none of your lame-brain fer-instances. An’ as fer you, boy, I surely do eagerly anticipate seein’ you over my gun-barrel on that occasion. Now,
git
!’ And he booted the bearded master of epigram clear through the door, into the middle of the morning.

‘Ahem!’ said the Doctor, feeling it was time he joined the discussion.

‘Yes, the old guy’s right,’ said Bat. ‘Guess you jest summed it up, partner! Wyatt, this ain’t by no means according to Hoyle! What you’re doin’ is declarin’ a private war! You cain’t do that, not if you’re a law-man!’

‘Then here’s my badge,’ said Wyatt, grandly, removing his badge and unfortunately a piece of his shirt in the process. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. ‘Time’s all out for the niceties of lawful miscarriage of justice, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Then this time, I cain’t go along with you,’ said Bat, sadly. ‘I won’t go agin’ you, Wyatt, on account of our long an’ friendly association; but I cain’t no-wise back you up!’

The ex-Marshal breathed deeply; a patient man, incommoded by a knife in the back. ‘Then it’s me an’

Warren,’ he concluded. ‘Reckon we can take care of it.’

‘You still got me,’ groaned Virgil. ‘Guess I can still tote a shotgun. Fact is, it’d pleasure me some...’

‘Ride on home, Virgil,’ instructed Wyatt. ‘Don’t want no cripples lousin’ things up,’ he explained, kindly. ‘No –

the man I need here right now is Doc Holliday!’

‘Who, I believe, you jest ran out o’ town,’ pointed out Bat. ‘An’ a good thing, too! Start consortin’ with that kind, in a doin’s like this, an’ you’d be branded with the same iron! That’s
all
you need, right now!’

‘If I may say something,’ interjected the Doctor, glad to be able to make a contribution at last, ‘I think you may find he will shortly be on his way. My friend, Steven, set off to find him this morning.’

‘Small chance of his doin’ that, I’d say, when he don’t know the territory.’

‘Ah, but he had a local connection with him who was kind enough to offer assistance. I think we may have every confidence in the gentleman.’

‘Yeah? An’ so who might that be?’ enquired Wyatt, at a loss to account for a gentleman being in the neighbourhood at this time, or indeed ever.

‘Unfortunately I forgot to enquire his name. But he was extremely helpful, and appeared to be well-educated. In fact, he conducted part of our conversation in Latin!’

At this annoucement, a series of hair-line cracks appeared in Wyatt’s baroque facade, such as would have given an architectural conservationist, had one been present, food for alarmed thought.

‘Johnny Ringo!’ he breathed.

‘Ah, so you know the man? Is he a friend of yours?’

‘Ringo’s a friend of nobody,’ Bat explained, ‘except, maybe, the devil! He’s a bounty-hunting shootist – sells himself to the highest bidder.’

‘And as of now,’ confirmed Wyatt, ‘that’ll likely be the Clantons! Moreover, him an’ Doc’s got old scores to settle, concernin’ the possession of Kate Elder’s provocative person! And you sent him out there to find them?’

‘Well, it seemed to be a good idea at the time...’ faltered the Doctor, ‘in view of the shooting of the hotel manager...’

he amplified.

But this was altogether too much for Wyatt, who had a pretty full dossier, at the moment.

‘Then, little friend of all the world,’ he said pleasantly,

‘here’s another good idea for you to chaw on. If it turns out as Doc
cain’t
take care of Ringo, come sun-up tomorrow I’m gonna be shy a gun-hand; an’ I’m gonna need me a replacement. An’ since half the town is already of the opinion that you an’ Holliday is one an’ the same... if I was you, I’d get in a little practice on the equaliser!’

21

Coincident with the above conversation, an unprecedented event was occurring someplace else; namely the back room of Clancy’s renowned Elysian Fields Flop-House and Grill (Bath one dollar extra); and in this Ritz-Carlton of Purgatory Bend, Doc Holliday was being beaten to the draw.

Mind you, he had every excuse, his hands being currently encumbered by a tray-full of Clancy’s bas-cuisine

– crawdad chowder and mash, if you want to know – but still... Try as he would, he could not off-hand recall a similar happenstance; and you could say it rankled.

Moreover, the fire-arm now waving at will in the general direction of his midriff was held in the inexperienced grip of one whom he had hitherto counted amongst his dwindling circle of friends. That would teach him to trust people, he thought.

‘Hands up!’ said Dodo.

‘Well now,’ he temporised, ‘if I do that, then these high-priced victuals is a-goin’ to slop all over the flowered linoleum.’

‘All right then,
half
-way up,’ she agreed, making a concession.

‘Have you any particular motive in makin’ so free with these fool-hardy instructions?’ he asked her. ‘Or is you jest passin’ the time of day?’

‘You promised you’d take me back to my friends this morning,’ she explained, ‘and here it is, lunchtime. I am no longer prepared to tolerate this kind of shilly-shallying; and I now insist that we hit the trail. Are you ready to start?’

As we know, Doc had privately decided, in view of everything, to give Tombstone and its hostile purlieus the miss for the foreseeable. So he prevaricated.

‘Little lady, I’m ready to leap like a mountain goat, you ever do somethin’ like this again! May I enquire further what you are a-fixin’ to do with that there instrument of bloody destruction; which is, rightly speaking, the trousseau of my intended?’

‘Shoot you, if you force me to adopt such a course!’ Doc had suspected as much.

‘Then will you kindly declare, here and now, whether you have ever in your sweet life handled that class of weapon before?’

‘No – but.I
am
familiar with the principle of its operation. You pull the trigger, I believe?’

‘That’s about it, I reckon. So then, how would you propose to rejoin your loved ones?’

‘I shall try not to kill you. I am aiming for your right arm. I have already drawn a bead on it.’

‘You have? Then I would like to point out that right now you got me in the thoracic cavity. Where my heart hangs out,’ he explained, in deference to her lack of medical knowledge. ‘What you’re about to do is blow me to Glory!’

‘I shall just have to take my chance on that.’

‘Seems like it’s me that’s takin’ the chance!’

‘Very well; in that case I suggest you escort me back to Tombstone at once.’

He sighed, deeply; for he had grown fond of the girl –

and in other circumstances, would have preferred not to kill her. Ah well, we can’t always do as we’d like in this world, that’s for sure.

‘Maybe I’d better, at that,’ he lied, smoothly. ‘You don’t mind, do you, if I leave a note for Kate? Her bein’ out an’

about doin’ the household shoppin’ an’ all, she might take it kind of personal if you an’ me jest high-tail it out of here, without tellin’ her goodbye. You know what she’s like. She acts a mite suspicious on occasion...’

He placed the tray carefully on the table, and began to reach for the pen he kept in his Derringer pocket.

She forestalled him.

‘There’s no need for that,’ snapped Dodo. ‘I’ve already attended to the matter. I’ve written a letter, explaining what we are about.’

So what could he do? Except face the inevitable; always an unpleasant experience.

‘Well, I surely hope you’ve explained real good! O.K.

then – since you appear to have taken care of every goddam thing, we’d best vamoose before she gets back an’ gives us the kind of argument I wouldn’t by no means wish to be a party of. By God, little girl – first you clean me out at poker, an’ then you get the drop on me! When we
do
get to Tombstone, I’m gonna be right glad to observe your disappearin’ rear end!’

So Doc Holliday rode off to keep his date with Destiny, and such, spurred to this course by a gun in the lower vertebrae and held there as a reminder that Dodo was right behind him in the saddle, and in a mood to tolerate no nonsense.

While Destiny and such, for their part, contrived to arrange that as the ill-assorted pair left town, Steven and Johnny Ringo rode into it from the opposite direction.

Destiny is uncommonly good at things like that.

‘What makes you think,’ enquired Steven, ‘that they’ll be in
this
town? It doesn’t look the kind of place anyone would choose to visit.’