Stand-off at Copper Town Read online

  Then he saw that Tucker was approaching. He had removed the bar from the other door and had come in, knocking Patrick over in his eagerness to join the fray.

  Nathan turned to take him on, but Tucker was too quick and pushed him back into the doorframe where he held him firmly. With his back braced, Nathan shoved forward, but he couldn’t move Tucker away, and outside Clay was fighting back.

  Clay raised himself, lifting Jeff off the floor sprawling over his back. Then, bent double over the rock, he side-stepped towards the rail, aiming to throw Jeff over the side.

  ‘Give up, Jeff!’ Nathan shouted. ‘Let him have the gold.’

  Jeff broke off from his attempts to push Clay down to look at the tracks. The ground to the left was falling away as they reached the sweeping approach to the cutting and then the bridge.

  The car was traveling so fast the wheels were screeching and the whole structure was shaking from side to side suggesting they might come off the tracks even before they reached Devil’s Bend.

  Worse, with the rock closing in to the right and the sheer drop to the left they couldn’t leap off either. The only hope Nathan could see was that the cutting before the bridge would provide enough room for them to jump and roll aside.

  With the urgency of the situation growing with every second, Jeff kicked up a foot and planted it on the rail to avoid being thrown over the side. Then he swung his opponent round towards the door.

  Clay was still concentrating on holding the gold and so he went tumbling into Nathan, knocking him into the car and dragging Tucker with him.

  Nathan moved to get up, but then failed when the car skipped. It felt as if the car were tipping over before it slammed back down on the tracks.

  All five men were now on their knees and struggling to raise themselves.

  ‘We have to get off now,’ Patrick shouted from behind them. ‘Whoever lives gets the gold.’

  This offer concentrated everyone’s minds and with only the minimum of pushing, they all worked their way through the door. The shaking was too great to let any of them gain their feet and when Nathan emerged he saw that they were heading for the cutting.

  They had almost reached the end of the section of track with the sheer drop. If they could stay on the tracks for just a few more moments, they might have somewhere to jump to.

  Tucker reached the rail first. He peered down at the drop to the side and then looked to the cutting. He swirled round to Clay, the wind whipping his hat off and sending it flying around the side of the car.

  ‘On three, jump,’ he shouted, the wind that had taken his hat stealing his words away and making them emerge as a screech.

  ‘We’ll never make it,’ Clay cried out, the weight of the nugget making it impossible for him to stand up.

  Tucker reached down to help him up, but by the time he’d dragged him to his feet it was too late. They’d hurtled into the cutting. Rocks blurred by on either side, preventing them from leaping off.

  With the car creaking and groaning so loudly it could derail at any moment, Nathan grabbed the rail and walked himself up to a standing position. That only brought him closer to Tucker, who risked releasing the rail to deliver a backhanded swipe at his head.

  The hand caught him only a glancing blow, but with his grip of the rail being weak and with the wind buffeting him it was enough to send him spinning to the side rail.

  He folded over the rail and the frightening sight of the ground sweeping by below confronted him. The rocky side of the cutting was only a few feet away.

  He fought his way upright. Then he tried to use the rocking of the car to swing himself back towards the door, but Tucker leapt at him.

  The action bent him double. His feet left the base of the car and he headed towards the rock.

  Over the rattling of the wheels, he heard Tucker utter a cry of triumph, but the shaking car that had made it hard for him to get to his feet rescued him. The car lurched heavily to the side, making it feel as if it were flying, and threw him backwards.

  He slammed into Tucker sending him reeling into the front rail where he tipped over and disappeared from view beneath the car. Clay watched him go, hanging on with one hand on the rail and the other clutching the nugget.

  While Patrick and Jeff fought to join him, Nathan looked ahead as the car emerged from the cutting like a bullet from a gun.

  ‘We did it,’ he shouted. ‘We survived Devil’s Bend.’

  Patrick crawled to the railing and peered through.

  ‘No we haven’t,’ he cried. ‘That wasn’t Devil’s Bend.’

  ‘What do you. . . .?’ Nathan’s question died on his lips.

  The cutting had taken them to the side of the bridge. To swing down to it, the final quarter-mile stretch of tracks had a steep slope that only a train going at a careful speed could traverse.

  They had to jump off now even if the speed at which the ground was hurtling by said they’d never survive the fall.

  Nathan fought his way to the side rail. He felt as if he were trying to climb a sheer cliff face. Then he found that he was in fact doing that.

  The car was tipping over.

  The motion tore his grip away from the rail and sent him tumbling. His shoulder crashed against the door jamb. In desperation he grabbed hold of the wood and swung himself into the car, but whether or not that would turn out to be a good move he didn’t know.

  Unable to stop himself, he tumbled towards the side of the car, which became the base when the car crashed down its side. As he again went tumbling, he heard the others shouting, but over the screech of tortured metal and breaking wood he couldn’t hear the words.

  He rolled into a bench and he wrapped his arms around it, stilling his motion. He clung on with his teeth gritted as the grinding and screeching continued.

  A plank landed on his back mashing his face against the bench and a massive jolt ripped through the car, but still he gripped the bench as if only it could save his life.

  It felt as if the collapsing of the car would continue forever, but then with a grinding of timbers and a final tortured scream of metal, the car lurched to a halt.

  He had an odd feeling of weightlessness and he wondered if the car had tipped over the side of the tracks and he was plummeting to the ground below, but all remained still.

  He looked down and the disorientating sight of his legs sticking straight out confronted him. Seemingly they were suspended in the air.

  Then, with a sudden change of perspective, he saw that the car was lying on its side and he was holding on to a bench that had been bolted down to what was now effectively a wall.

  With his arms beginning to ache, he dropped down to the base. The motion made him sway, although he had the impression that it was the car that swayed, not him. Then he looked for other survivors.

  Jeff was sitting further down the car rubbing his head while Patrick was crawling away from him towards the door at the opposite end of the car.

  Of Clay there was no sign, and neither could he see the gold nugget, but right now he reckoned he’d settle for just being alive. The door was beside him, now set sideways into the new wall.

  He clambered over broken planks and benches and then looked outside. He could see nothing but sky; he shook himself, still feeling disorientated, and then looked down.

  They had come to rest on the bridge. The long sweep of Devil’s Bend was above. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to pass on the welcome news to the others.

  A crack sounded spraying splinters from the side of the door. He ducked while looking around, wondering if the car might still collapse, but then he registered what the sound had been.

  Someone had torn off a gunshot outside. He raised himself to look over the side of the door. A man was approaching.

  Foley Steele was coming on to the bridge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘Foley’s here,’ Nathan said, turning back to look along the car.

  ‘Foley?’ Patrick said, pausing from his slow pro
gress towards the opposite door. ‘How did he get here?’

  ‘I’d guess he worked out where we went, too.’

  ‘What happened to Clay?’ Jeff said, getting to his feet.

  ‘He wouldn’t let go of the gold,’ Patrick said, looking to the end of the car. ‘When he crashed into the door he tumbled out to his death. That made him let go.’

  Patrick pointed to the corner and when Nathan moved to the side he saw the gleam of gold.

  ‘Clay might have survived out there,’ he said.

  ‘He didn’t,’ Patrick said. He tentatively crawled on for another foot. ‘You two need to get back to the other end or we won’t either.’

  Nathan was about to ask what he meant, but then Foley spoke up from the other side of the doorway.

  ‘Give me the gold and I’ll leave before you die in there,’ he said.

  ‘No deal,’ Jeff said before Nathan could retort.

  ‘Then I’ll wait until you’re more amenable. It shouldn’t be long.’

  Foley laughed, making Nathan glance at Jeff quizzically, but he merely pointed to the far end of car where Patrick was now five feet from the nugget. He was nervously edging forward an inch at a time even though there were no obstacles between him and the gold.

  Nathan got to his feet to stand beside what had been the top of the door. He peered out at the bridge while still keeping out of Foley’s sight.

  The situation was worse than he’d feared.

  The car had come to rest skewed across the tracks and from the amount of the bridge Nathan could see, he judged that around half of it was protruding over the edge. Patrick was now making his way across wood that was dangling over a two-hundred-foot drop to the water below.

  That journey became even more precarious when the car lurched. Patrick jerked back and the car settled, making him shuffle round to a sitting position and face them. He shook his head and held out his hands signifying he was some way short of reaching the nugget.

  They might have been able to use the broken wood scattered around the car to drag the heavy nugget closer, but Nathan judged that they didn’t have the time. The car was creaking so loudly it could fall even if they kept it balanced, and Foley’s presence was making the situation even more fraught.

  Nathan snorted a loud laugh and raised his voice.

  ‘Hey, Foley,’ he shouted. ‘It’s time we stopped working against each other.’

  ‘I’ve given you my deal,’ Foley said. ‘You send the gold out and I’ll leave you.’

  ‘We can’t do that. So I’m going to trust you. You’d better repay that trust or you’ll never get the gold.’

  Before Foley could reply Nathan stepped into the doorway with his hands raised. Foley was standing ten feet from the car, his gun drawn and aimed through the doorway.

  ‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ he said. ‘Now bring out the gold or I shoot.’

  ‘If you shoot, I’ll make sure I fall outside and then you’ll never see the gold.’

  Foley narrowed his eyes. ‘What kind of threat is that?’

  ‘It’s a good one.’ Nathan nodded back into the car. ‘The gold is at the far end. We can’t reach it unless we have more weight at this end. Your weight will do.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’ Foley snorted, although he did edge to the side to appraise the car.

  ‘Believe what you will, but unless we cooperate none of us are getting the gold.’

  Nathan and Jeff both folded their arms with a show of defiance and with neither man adding anything more Foley advanced a cautious pace towards the car.

  He craned his neck, trying to see in through the door. He must have noticed Patrick standing at the far end as he edged a pace closer and then on to the other side of the doorway.

  He considered their predicament and snorted a hollow laugh.

  ‘All those years of waiting and it comes to this,’ he said, the anger gone from his voice.

  He gestured for Nathan and Jeff to stand aside and clambered over the doorframe to join them. He stood back against the wall where he could keep everyone in view and then motioned for Patrick to move on.

  Patrick glared at him, looking as if he would refuse, but slowly he turned to the gold. He edged forward, this time not getting a complaint from the wrecked car.

  In a hurry, as if speed would counteract the force of gravity, he lurched forward to the nugget. Using a deft motion that he must have mentally rehearsed he scooped it up in his arms and pranced backwards for two paces.

  ‘Got it!’ he said. He turned sporting a huge smile that slipped away when the reality of the situation intruded upon his triumph.

  ‘I’m pleased you’ve got my gold,’ Foley said. ‘Now bring it here and we can end this.’

  ‘If you steal my gold, you don’t think it’ll end here, do you?’ Patrick said.

  Foley shrugged. ‘You’ll come after me, I know, but I took your horses from the mine, so you’ll be a while coming.’

  ‘It took years the last time, and we can spend years again. You’ll never get to enjoy it.’ Patrick took two long paces forward and kicked over a bench that had come loose, righting it. He placed the nugget on it and then sat down. ‘But it doesn’t have to end that way.’

  Foley narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you planning?’

  Patrick merely folded his arms and raised his chin in a show of not speaking.

  Foley cast Jeff and Nathan stern glares that warned them not to try anything and then walked through the debris to the bench. Nathan judged that Patrick had chosen a position where he could sit on what was effectively the edge of the bridge.

  With a last glance around to check on where everyone was, Foley sat down. Only then did Patrick speak up.

  ‘It’s time to do a deal,’ he said. ‘We split this four ways. That’ll be enough for everyone.’

  ‘You have nothing to bargain with, and I have a gun.’

  ‘You do.’ Patrick glanced over his shoulder at the nearest window, which now lacked glass and which, even from Nathan’s position, provided a dizzying view down to the river below. ‘I have the gold. Make one wrong move and I throw it through the window.’

  ‘You wouldn’t throw it away.’

  ‘If I can’t have a share, I have nothing to lose.’

  ‘Do that and I kill you.’

  Patrick placed a hand on the top of the nugget.

  ‘Then do it. As long as those two good men live, I won’t mind. They may even manage to fish it out of the water.’

  As Foley grunted with anger, at the back of the car Nathan glanced at Jeff, who nodded, acknowledging he was ready to take on Foley if Patrick’s solution to the stand-off failed.

  ‘Why do you care about them?’ Foley asked.

  ‘Because this situation is the same as the last time. I wanted to share the gold, but that wasn’t good enough for you. You killed everyone and we all lost out. This time do the right thing.’

  Foley firmed his shoulders, appearing as if he were mulling over the offer before he gave a slow shake of the head.

  Patrick sighed and caught Nathan’s eye with a darting glance that said the time for negotiation was over. Nathan had hoped they could avoid escalating the confrontation, but he accepted they now had no choice and he moved on with Jeff at his side.

  Nathan vaulted the debris before him and ran on, but he’d managed only two paces when Foley swung up from the bench. He turned to keep them all in view, his gun cocked and his finger on the trigger, but he stayed his fire.

  Jeff and Nathan slid to a halt while Patrick took advantage of the delay to clutch the nugget to his chest and then half-rise, putting himself in a position where he could swing round and tip it through the nearest window.

  ‘That’s far enough,’ Foley said. He roved his gun back and forth taking in everyone. ‘Give me the gold.’

  Patrick considered him and then the gold nugget. He shrugged.

  ‘If you insist ,’ he said, only his rising tone on the last word hinting ab
out what he’d planned. He hefted the nugget in his arms and then hurled it at Foley.

  Foley flinched away while raising a hand to ward off the rock, but then thought better of making the attempt and jumped to the side. Unfortunately he leapt away from Nathan and Jeff and that moved him towards the suspended section of the car.

  Boards creaked ominously and the car wobbled making everyone thrust out their arms for balance.

  The gold hammered into the wall and landed with a resounding crunch, breaking the boards beneath it and making the car creak again. Foley moved for the gold, but he’d weakened the boards beneath his feet and his right foot broke through, sending him to one knee.

  In desperation he grabbed a bench, which toppled over, but it still stopped him slipping any further down. Jeff and Nathan moved towards him while Patrick went for the gold, but Foley got his wits about him and using his free hand he jerked up the gun.

  Everyone slid to a halt, surrounding him in a semicircle. Despite his precarious situation, Foley grinned.

  ‘It seems I’m nearest the gold,’ he said. He gestured with his gun, ordering them to stand back.

  Nathan saw that he had no choice and with Jeff he backed away for a pace, but Patrick didn’t move. Instead he looked down through the nearest window and winced.

  ‘Perhaps forever,’ he said.

  Foley continued to beam in triumph as Patrick caught Nathan’s eye and then glanced at the doorway. Nathan knew what he was suggesting, but after everything they’d been through, he couldn’t do it.

  ‘Complete your promise,’ Foley said. ‘This is your final warning.’

  ‘I intend to,’ Patrick said. ‘Our feud ends here in the only way it ever could.’

  Foley and Patrick glared at each other. Foley must have seen something in Patrick’s eyes that warned him of his next action.

  He fired. The shot blasted into Patrick’s chest as he threw himself forward.

  Patrick still ran on for a pace and while folding over he plowed into Foley, tearing his grip away from the bench.

  Boards snapped and behind Nathan something heavy clattered to the floor making the car lurch. Despite Patrick’s last order, he and Jeff still moved to help him, but the car continued to lurch and Nathan had the weird feeling of being unbalanced, making it hard to keep his footing.