BROTHERS IN ARMS

BROTHERS IN ARMS

The fusillade of shots sent the two Curry brothers scampering back into the empty saloon. Virgil, the eldest, crawled behind the bar. His brother, Josh, known as Kid, rolled away to the right of the swing doors.

“Jesus, Virg, there must be a dozen o’ them bastards out there”.

“You hit?”

“No. Leastways, I don’t think so. You?”

“Just a nick; left hand. Damn, it stings”.

Kid checked himself over. One bullet had pierced his left boot; clean hole-but had missed his foot.

“What now, Virg?”

“Quiet, will ya? I’m thinking”.

“Well don’t take too long ‘cos this is a real mess we’re in”.

“I said to shut up. Goddamn it, Kid. Let me think”.

Kid looked angrily across at the bar but could not see his brother.

“It were your thinking that got us into this mess in the first place so’s you better think of a way out of it”

“Jesus! Do you even know the meaning of the word quiet?”

“Well it’s true. Just one more job, you said. Piece o’ cake, you said. Just the two of us could handle it, you said…”

“Christ almighty, Kid. It was an easy job ’til you went and dropped the cash bag in the street o’ this damn desert town and that fella noticed it. We had no choice other than to take refuge in this place…”

“We shoulda just kept going; grabbed the horses and lit outa here but you ducked in this saloon and now we’re trapped”.

Silence prevailed for a few moments. Behind the bar, Virgil Curry, the brains of their gang, was trying to figure out the next move. Suddenly, he had a thought.

“Hey, remember that rifle you was telling me about; the fancy new one that you were planning on getting?”

“Winchester repeater. Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“Well, hell, that’s what somebody out there has got. Ain’t no dozen men across the way. It’s just one goddamn man with one o’ them fancy rifles”.

“You think?”

“Sure. Has to be. No way this outa the way, Mexican desert town could rustle up enough fellas brave enough to take on the Curry gang. Think about it”.

As this thought began to take root in the two brothers’ minds, across the street, opposite the saloon, ladders were being placed against the back of the buildings and Mexican army soldiers were clambering up to join their colleagues on the rooftops. Each soldier carried a rifle. As they spread out like ants, they numbered twenty five. Down below, a similar number were crouched inside the buildings, rifles at the ready. At each end of the sandy street, wagons had been pushed out to block any escape and, behind each blockade, another dozen soldiers had taken up their positions.

“Yessir, way I see it, apart from that one fella with the new fangled rifle, we don’t have too much to worry about. This is what I reckon. You go first…”

“What? Why can’t you go first…?”

“Christ, just listen, goddammit. You go first. Soon as you get sighted that fella with the fancy gun is gonna open fire. That’ll allow me to get a bead on ‘him and take him out. Then, it’s a straight shootout; nothing we ain’t faced a dozen times afore. All you gotta do is show yourself, then dive off to the left. I’ll take care of the rest. If’n I go first, you might miss. I’m the better shot by far and you knows it”.

Kid could not argue with this logic; Virgil was a great shot and an even faster draw. His reputation for such had spread far and wide. Kid was as brave as they came but his insides were churning at the thought of exposing himself to a man with a Winchester but anything was better than the situation they were in.

“Okay, let’s do it”.

Virgil crawled from the safety of his hiding place and, keeping out of view, continued until he reached the right side of the swing doors. He signalled to his brother to come to the left side. Once Kid had joined him, he indicated that his brother should push the swing door nearest him and he, Virgil, cocked his Smith and Wesson pistol and sighted it on the rooftop yonder.

“Go!”

Kid pushed open the swing door exposing himself and, immediately, a barrage of shots was let loose from on top of the rooftops opposite. Kid screamed out as a bullet ripped into his right calf. Virgil was dumfounded. It was impossible for him to pinpoint the shooter as shots were coming from all directions. Both brothers quickly rolled away to the sides.

“I sure hope you got the bastard…”

“Jesus! You okay?”

“I’m hit bad, Virg. Did you get ‘im?”

“I think it’s worse than I thought, Kid. There’s more o’ them than I imagined”.

“Jesus Christ, Virgil! You and your damn plans. Now what?”

Virgil took off his gun belt, then removed his pants belt and slid it across the floor to his brother.

“Tie off that wound, Kid. Tight as you can”.

As Kid tightened the belt in a tourniquet, the pain shot up his leg causing him to gasp aloud.

“Kid, how many bullets you got left?”

“Shit, I don’t know. “Bout twenty ‘cluding my gun belt”.

“Okay, I’ve got ‘bout the same. That’s ‘bout three bullets for each o’ those bastards. I reckon we just wait a while. Jethro will know something’s gone wrong and he’ll come looking. It will distract them fellas and that’s when we make a break for it. Okay?”

Suddenly, there was the sound of running feet, the swing doors flew open and a huge bundle came flying into the saloon, sliding across the rough timbered floor. Both brothers, startled at this intrusion, opened fire simultaneously but no other men rushed into the saloon.

“Jesus Christ, Virg. What was that?”

Virgil crept towards the huge bundle, realising as he neared that it was a body of a man with a hessian sack covering its face. Carefully, he reached out and grabbed ahold of the sack and pulled…

“Aaahhh!”

“What, Virg? What is it?”

“It’s…it’s Jethro. Those bastards done killed him. Jesus, there must be two dozen bullets in him…”

Unable to help himself, Virgil half crawling, stormed to the swing doors and started shooting wildly across the street.  

“You bastards! I’ll kill ever’ last one o’ youse. Bastards!”

The returning volley of shots forced him to dive for cover but not before he had been hit in the shoulder.

“Aaagghhh!”

“Virg, you okay?”

“Those bastards! I swear…”

“They killed Jethro, Virg. They killed our big brother…”

“Man never hurt a fly…”

“Virg, if’n they found Jethro, that means they found the stash from the other robberies”.

“I know! Don’t you think I know that?”

“We’re done for ain’t we, Virg?”

The two brothers started to cry, mourning the loss of their eldest, a simple, gentle man, whom they had always tried to keep out of the robbing ways they had taken up after the death of their momma and the bank had repossessed their farm. Jethro had rode along with them but never actually taken part in any robbery. Still and all, he was one of the three infamous outlaw Curry brothers with a price on his head.

“God is bountiful…”

“What the hell you doing, Kid?”

“I’m praying for Jethro; the prayer that momma taught us. God is bountiful…”

“Hell, this ain’t no time for praying. If’n we’re done for, I’m sure taking some of those bastards to hell along with me”.

“What we gonna do Virg?”

“On the count o’ three, we’re gonna make a run for it. Shoot high and shoot fast. Head left to the livery stable. Whatever happens, nobody will be able to say the Curry gang didn’t go out fighting. I’m real sorry ‘bout this, Kid. I promised momma I’d take care o’ you and Jethro and I’ve let you both down…”

“Hell, Virgil, if’n Jethro were here right now, he’d agree with me. Nobody coulda had a better brother than you. Man, whatever else, it’s been fun”.

“You with me, Kid?’

“I’m with you, brother”.

“One, two, three…”

The two wounded men leapt to their feet and rushed for the swing doors, both firing two guns As they reached the saloon doors, a volley of shots peppered the doors, frames and surroundings…

“CUT!”

“Leo, for God’s sake, you’ve got a hole in your calf the size of a nickel. How in hell can you leap like a jack rabbit from the floor? And Brad, your shoulder is supposed to be shot to pieces, for pity’s sake. You can’t go running out with both guns raised high like that. Jesus!”

“Sorry, Marty”.

“You’re right, Marty. I didn’t think”.

“Okay, we’re gonna have to go again; from the top”.

“Brothers in Arms. Take 27”.

“Action!”