“Yeah, sure. Sorry. Got carried away, Ryan.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “Wouldn’t nobody have any drinkin’ liquor, would you? Krysty?”
She shook her head and turned away from him, looking at Ryan. “So, what do we do now, lover?”
Ryan shouldered the rifle. “Now we have to get in close and careful and have a good recce. Mebbe go in during the night hours. Can’t go walking in shooting. They’ll butcher us from hiding. Have to find out where they are.”
“And go in at dawn?” the Armorer asked.
Ryan rubbed the side of his nose with his index finger, looking down into Harmony. They were too far away to make out any details, but they could see the smoke of cooking fires and hear a dog barking.
“Likely dawn’ll be the choice. Best turn the burrows loose and drag this scum off the trail, out of sight.”
“Animals might find their way back to town,” Carl said hesitantly.
Ryan suddenly spun, making the blacksmith’s son start. “You’re right. Good thinking. I hadn’t Getting careless. The animals come from Harmony?”
“Believe so,” Carl replied.
“Cut their throats, Jak.”
“Oh, surely they could” Doc began, stopping as he saw the flickering flame of anger still smoldering in Ryan’s eye. “Perhaps you’re right.”
A WIDE DRAW RAN in close to the northern flank of Harmony and Ryan led them along it, guided by Carl at his shoulder. They kept well out of sight of the ville, until they reached a stand of cottonwoods within a couple hundred yards of the nearest house.
“What time is it?” Jak asked.
“Little after three.” Ryan sat down and lay back, closing his eye. “Might as well all take a rest. Won’t be moving for a good while.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
They split up for the recce.
Jak went with J.B. and Mildred, while Doc accompanied Ryan, along with Krysty and Carl, whose local knowledge of Harmony, so Ryan hoped, should prove vital in their attack plans.
It was around eight o’clock at night when Ryan gave the word for them to start off. The moon was veiled behind banks of low cloud, and there was the threat of more rain.
Despite Carl’s begging for a firearm, Ryan had refused to let him borrow one.
As a result of this rejection, Carl had led the way in a silent, sulky mood.
They moved around the outskirts, toward the south, while J.B. and the others circled north. It was agreed that they would all meet back in the cottonwoods in four hours.
At midnight.
ENOUGH LIGHT FILTERED through for them to make out the main features of Harmony, most of them familiar to Krysty.
“Church,” she said, pointing to the spire. “Where we took Sunday services. That’s the school next to it, with the bell tower. Our house was up on the bluff. Can’t see it.”
She turned to Carl. “Why can’t I see my old home?”
“Got burned down. Lightning strike. Years ago now. Came in a dry spell, and there weren’t no chance to get water to it. Few other houses went that evening.”
“Where’s the gang holed up?” Ryan asked.
Carl hesitated. “Spread in different places. The gas wag and the fuel for it’s locked away in a barn out back of the sheriff’s office.”
“Who’s sheriff of Harmony now?” Krysty asked. “Used to be big Ed Fisher.”
“He got bad cancer in his back,” Carl said. “Last sheriff’s a guy called Ludlow Thompson. Don’t know if ?”
“Sure, I remember him,” Krysty said. “He’s only a kid. Sign of getting old when lawmen get younger.”
“Well, Ludlow won’t be gettin’ no fuckin’ older. One of the stickies ripped out most of his throat, day before I upped and run away. Hope you won’t mind if I off some of the fuckheads with my hammer here.”
Ryan ignored the attempt at sarcasm. “I’d be happy to sit out here and let you chill the lot, Carl. Except it doesn’t seem like you’ve had much success in that line.”
“And you smartass outlanders goin’ to come in hootin’ and hollerin’ and shootin’ off them fancy blasters. And stop the gang?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “We are.”