Edge: Apache Death

The Englishman sighed. "Needs must when the devil drives, I suppose," he said, rose into a crouch and darted out toward the nearest discarded weapon. An arrow whistled through the flame-lit air, the noise of its travel cutting across the crackle of burning buildings. With the  skill of a man experienced in such things the Englishman hit the ground, rolled over twice, snatched up the rifle and was on his feet and running back in a fast, fluid  motion. The arrow thudded into the stock of the rifle. "You almost got me killed," he said with mock petulance as he crouched back in cover and started to pull out the arrow.

"Keep back, you idiot," Colonel Murray's voice barked from the saloon doorway. "They aren't finished yet."

"Strange creatures, Indians," the Englishman muttered in a conversational tone as he skillfully checked the load and action of the newly-acquired rifle. "So unsubtle."

On the roof of the restaurant across the street a man eased erect and loosed off a rifle shot. Something whistled through the air and the next moment the rifleman screamed and pitched forward, falling into the street, frantically trying to yank out a tomahawk that was sunk into his chest.

"But they can be effective," Edge rejoined as the thud of body on to sun-hardened ground ended the man's scream.

"That's only a three-dollar one," the Englishman said. 

"Colonel?" Edge called.

"What is it?" came the answer.

"Did they reach the fort?"

"Not even near it. Must know they didn't stand a chance when the explosive wagon blew too early."

"Then why don't the critters get the hell out?'' another voice caned from across the street.

 "This isn't the main attack," the colonel replied. "Probably trying to pick off as many of us as they can to make it easier later. Now cut out the talk and watch out for them."

Silence settled again, broken only by the crackling of flames and whimpering of a woman. Edge looked away from the street down to the other end of the alley where a flatbed wagon was standing. An outside stairway canted up the wall of the side of the saloon and he rose and moved stealthily toward it

"Where are you going?" the Englishman whispered.

"Alleys have got two ends and I've only got one pair of eyes," Edge answered, starting up the stairway.

"Above and coming down!" the Englishman hissed.

Edge snapped his eyes up and saw the Indian leaping off the roof, tomahawk raised for the kill. Clearly silhouetted against the sky streaked with black smoke. Edge turned and fell full length on the stairs, whipping up the Spencer and squeezing the trigger. The force of the bullet smashing into the brave’s forehead twisted his falling body and it corkscrewed to thud headfirst into the alley. Edge pulled himself into a sitting position and glared down at the Englishman.

"All you had to do was pull the trigger."

The Englishman grinned. "You tested me in the saloon, old boy. You're rather fast yourself."

Edge grunted, got to his feet and went up the remainder of the steps, sensing rather than hearing the progress of the Englishman behind him. The gambler could move like a cat. At the top of the stairway there was an open landing with a rail at the side and by standing on the rail Edge could reach up and hook his hands over the roof, then haul himself aloft. There were no other Apaches up there, but Edge crouched low, careful not to silhouette himself against the skyline as the Englishman pulled, himself up on the roof.

They, squatted in silence for a moment, surveying the surrounding rooftops in the flickering light of the flames and hearing the occasional rifle and revolver shot. Then Edge moved forward on all "fours.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Yes?" The 'Englishman was right behind him.

"What are we competing for?"

The Englishman laughed, curtailed it and snapped off a shot across the street. A brave in the process of hauling himself on to the sidewalk canopy in front of a grocery store, screamed and dropped back, clutching at his groin. He died under a hail of bullets from the soldiers and civilians in The 'Lucky Ace below.

"Spoiled it," the Englishman said. ''I wanted the bastard to suffer."

They reached the other end of the saloon roof and stretched out full length alongside each other to look down at the destruction wrought by the exploded wagon. It had ripped the facades off several buildings on the east side of the street and it was difficult to see how many people it had killed.

"Oh dear," the 'Englishman, said, "I don't envy Mortimer if he has to fit all those bits of bodies together before he buries them."

"You didn't answer my question," Edge said.

The Englishman grunted, "You don't gamble, you slept on your own in a bordello and you collected that bounty almost by accident. So I asked myself why you came to Rainbow in the middle of an Apache uprising. I answered that it has to be for the same reason I did."