Edge: The Loner

Edge gave a cold grin of approval, turned and started down the street. He stopped off at the hotel first, his too-tight boots echoing hollowly in the empty lobby. Everybody had been at the hanging. He found the cash box under the desktop and removed four dollars fifty. Then he went to his room, from which the kid had disappeared, crossed to the window and leaned out to take his capital from behind the loose shingle. Rather than go back through the hotel he stepped out of the window and swung down to the sidewalk from the porch. As he crossed towards the sheriff’s office he looked back down towards the intersection, saw the crowd still grouped around the gallows, from which Honey appeared to be making a speech. Edge spat and went inside as the sun raised clear of the mountain range and began to make its warmth felt.

His rifle, revolver and knife were neatly arranged on the desk and he stowed the smaller weapons in their appropriate places. Then he sat behind the desk and felt the full weight of his weariness settle upon him like a heavy, warm blanket. He did not think he had ever felt so tired in his life before. He could quite easily have allowed his chin to drop forward to his chest and invited sleep to claim him.

But he refused to acknowledge his fatigue, stood and moved to a rough-hewn bureau in one corner of the office, upon which rested a piece of broken mirror and a basin of stale water. He splashed the water on to his face, experienced a slight freshening up. One of the bureau drawers was jutting open a few inches and a word on a paper he could see caught his attention. He jerked open the drawer to its full extent and saw a collection of wanted posters. The top one showed a fresh faced cleanly shaven young man in a captain’s uniform, above the badly printed:

WANTED

FOR THE MURDER OF WAR VETERAN

ELLIOT THOMBS

former captain J. C. Hedges.

Edge snatched up the piece of mirror and looked at his reflection: at the cruel, hooded eyes, thin mouth line, the water-beaded beard that sprouted from sun-toughened skin. He grinned. The army picture, completed on the day he was commissioned, bore not the slightest resemblance to the man he was now. A laugh ripped from his lips as he tossed the wanted poster back, slammed the drawer shut.

When he turned, he again became aware of the depth of his tiredness. For had not the lack of rest dulled the edges of his alertness, Gail and Honey could not have got within yards of the office doorway without him knowing of their approach. As it was, they were even inside the office.

“We would like you to stick around for a while, señor,” Honey said.

Edge saw that they were both unarmed. A glance at the windows both left and right revealed an empty street. If he had read an implied threat into the words, he was wrong.

“What?”

“I think you heard, Mr. Edge,” Gail said. “The Citizen’s Committee held another meeting.”

“Who else do you want me to kill?” Edge snapped.

Gail shook her head. “Nobody. The town needs a peace officer until we can send for a regularly appointed lawman. And ...”

“And you want me to take the job?” Edge asked with a flicker of surprise.

“Were you aiming to go someplace special?” Honey asked.

“Mr. Edge doesn’t like personal questions, Honey,” Gail put in hurriedly, and looked expectantly at Edge. “Well?”

“How much? No place special.”

“Two dollars a day, free board here and all you can eat at the restaurant.”

“Four dollars,” Edge said. “And I leave whenever I’m ready.”

“Three and we want to know a week before you leave.”

The woman’s eyes were locked onto Edge’s and she showed no sign of weakening in her resolution.

“Badge?” Edge asked and held out his hand.

Honey tossed the star and saw it caught easily, pinned to the new sheriff’s shirt-front. Edge looked up and grinned and Gail thought there might have been just a twinkle of humor in the narrowed eyes.

“Let’s go and get that first free breakfast,” Edge said, hefting the Henry. “All this killing gives a man an appetite.”

Honey and Gail stood aside to allow him through the doorway, and followed in his wake. Both cannoned into him when the sound of hoof beats on hard ground froze Edge into a posture of readiness. He eyes swept up the street, searching for the source of the sound, suddenly saw two riders swing into view around the corner of a building at the end of town.

“Inside,” Edge barked, and heard Gail and Honey scamper into the cover of the sheriff’s office.

Edge himself took the final step that brought him to the limit of the sidewalk and stood waiting. He recognized the riders as two of the three kids who had jumped him in the alley: one with a wad of dressing where his right ear should be, the other with his face scarred by the marks of Edge’s fingers.

“You bastard, you broke Eddie’s back,” the one-eared kid yelled as he raised his revolver, but needed to be closer before opening fire.