Miles to Little Ridge Read Online Free PDF Page A

over the little farm by the creek. Blood soaked into the ground. The girl, Clemmy, came around from the back of the house, rushed to her father, took his hand. The two of them looked at Miles.
    Miles said, "I thought you lit out."
    Gandy nodded. "I did. But ... well, I had to come back. I couldn't let you face two gunmen all by yourself."
    "They weren't gunmen. Just a couple of no-accounts. But ... thank you."
    Gandy nodded.
    On the ground, Christian stirred, moaning. He began to laboriously drag himself to the Swede's side, trailing blood behind him. He gripped the Swede's hand, whispered, "Lars ... Lars ... can you hear me?"
    Flat on his back, looking at the sky, with a pitchfork sticking out of his chest, the Swede managed, "Yeah."
    "I gotta tell you ... I gotta tell you something, Lars." He coughed blood all over his chin. "I ... I need you to know."
    "What?"
    "I love you, Lars. I always have."
    And still gripping his hand, Christian died.
    The Swede muttered, "Oh. Well, that's just goddamn embarrassing. You son-of-a-bitch ..." and followed his friend into the darkness.
    Miles and Gandy and the girl watched the deaths play out, and gave them a moment out of respect. Then Miles said, "Gandy. For what it's worth, I believe you're innocent of the charges against you. But I still have to take you in."
    "I just saved your life, Marshal."
    "You did. And I'm going to testify to that fact in court. I'm going to do everything I can for you, Gandy."
    "You could let me go, Marshal."
    "No. No, I couldn't."
    Gandy gripped his daughter's hand, and the girl looked up at her father. "Are we going into town now?" she asked.
    "Yeah," Gandy said. "I reckon we are." Then, to Miles, "You think it'll do any good, Marshal? You testifying for me?"
    Miles said, "I don't know, Gandy. I really don't know. I sure as hell hope so."
     
     
     
     
    †

About the Author
     
Heath Lowrance is the author of the cult novel
The Bastard Hand
, as well as a short story collection called
Dig Ten Graves
. Currently, he's penning a weird western series about the mysterious Hawthorne for Trestle Press (starting with "That Damned Coyote Hill"). His other stories have appeared at
Crime Factory
,
Shotgun Honey
,
Pulp Metal
,
Chi-Zine
, and others. He has been a movie theater manager, a tour guide at Sun Studio, a singer in a punk band, and a regular donor of blood for money. In forty-five years, he's engaged in a hundred years worth of anti-social behavior.

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