The Dead Man: Kill Them All Read Free Page A

stranger let Zeke go. “Guys, I don’t want any trouble.”
    Zeke laughed. “Mister, your ’tude just wrote a check your body can’t cash.”
    Sally gasped with alarm. Zeke produced a switchblade with his free hand, popped the wicked blade out, and stabbed at the stranger’s thigh. But the man wasn’t there anymore. He had moved out of the way, back towards his pack and sleeping bag. Hog changed direction to cut him off but moved too slowly. Cahill grabbed his ax and used the handle to pop Zeke low in the groin.
    Zeke gasped and dropped the knife. He sank to his knees, gripping his balls with both hands.
    Pissed off, Hog charged.
    Sally couldn’t believe her eyes. The handsome stranger stayed put. Hog was bigger, outweighed him by forty pounds, but Cahill didn’t move. His assailant launched a haymaker at his chin, but the stranger stood fast. At the very last second, when Hog was slightly off balance, Cahill knocked his arm up and out of the way. He punched Hog twice with the end of the ax handle, rapid-fire, right in the soft spot above the belly and between the ribs. Hog went white, sank to his knees gasping for air. He rolled over onto his side and drew up his knees like a baby trying to let loose a huge fart. The stranger tossed his ax onto his sleeping bag.
    “Just breathe, man. The pain will go away.” Cahill went down on one knee. He lowered his voice, said something to Hog and then repeated it to Zeke. He was whispering, but Sally caught the gist of it. He actually apologized again for hurting them and told them both to go sober up. He said to lay off the girl from now on.
    Like a pair of whipped puppies, Zeke and Hog helped each other limp out the batwing doors. They didn’t look back.
    What amazed Sally was that Cahill didn’t seem to be an expert at martial arts. Maybe he was just a man used to fighting in bars. He looked a bit shaken but wasn’t even breathing hard.
    The man looked over at Kyle, who had struggled back to his feet and was holding a candle as if wishing it would magically turn into a weapon.
    “You okay, kid?”
    Kyle’s cheeks went pink. He’d just lost a substantive dick-measuring contest. Sally stared at the stranger. She shook her head. “Mr. Cahill, you move like you’ve had a few fights in your day.”
    The man shrugged. “A few.”
    “We thank you.”
    “No sweat.”
    Sally watched as he turned to get his dusty pack, bedroll, and hat. He dug into his jeans to find a few dollar bills. He handed them to her, finished his beer, and turned to go. The harsh sunlight surrounded him, turning his features shadowy and mystical. Sally tucked the money into her bra and held out her hand.
    “Sally Morgan, Mr. Cahill.”
    “Mr. Cahill was my father.” The handsome stranger hesitated as if he’d grown tired of meeting people. He shook her hand. “Matt. Call me Matt.”

CHAPTER FOUR

    Friday, 11:14 a.m.

    Matt Cahill walked back through the ghost town, this time with the pretty young waitress. Despite the sunshine, he had his battered hat stuffed in his pocket. He kept the bedroll, long ax, and backpack over his right shoulder.
    “You’re pretty much as advertised,” Sally said.
    “Excuse me?”
    “You pulled Suzie Pickens out of a mine shaft. And then you come into my bar and straighten out two of the local bullies like it was nothing much. Whole town is buzzing about you. You must have some kind of powerful cereal for breakfast.”
    Matt sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”
    She grinned. “Sure is hot, ain’t it?”
    “Okay, how about telling me where we’re going?”
    The girl gestured, pointed. “To my car.”
    “How far?”
    “Right down that alley. Now, where is it you need to go, cowboy?”
    Matt paused to wipe sweat from his brow. “What is the fastest way to get back to the Kearns ranch? I’d appreciate a lift, but no need to take me all the way.”
    Sally stopped, and her boots thumped on the wooden slats. A trickle of sweat ran down the sweet