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Another hand was fucking Bradburn, who'd been forced down onto his belly. He was slamming into him with brute force, eager to exhibit his stamina and virility to his peers. Bradburn had lost count of how many cocks had been drivien into him. He'd let go, let his body take over and he was adrift in a sea of pain and lust. Suddenly a scream cut through the noise of the drunken chatter and laughter.
"I can't boss... you're killin'me..no AAAHHH."
"All the way in you little bastard," Viking grated and began to drive into Walt ruthlessly. The cowboy's cries gradually turned to moans that had not much to do with pain.
"Last time I fucked you, you were too drunk to notice. Not this time though Eh?"
Chapter 17
Jose waited impatiently while Sanchez and his father washed and changed. Then when they were seated for dinner he told them about his unease.
"If Abe didn't go to Twin Pines, where is he," Jose asked.
"There's the telegram," said his father.
"Anyone can send a telegram Papa," Sanchez observed.
"Yes and where is Corky," Jose asked? Then he recalled the look of hatred that Corky had given Abe.
"It's something to do with Corky, I'm sure...Corky and.... Oh My God."
"What," both his father and Sanchez asked at the same time?
"Viking. Its Viking and Corky."
"Yes, Abe was seen heading out alone northeast," Sanchez reasoned. "Towards the Dayton ranch."
"I must get there at once, God knows what they are doing to him." Jose leapt up from the table.
"Its no good rushing out there in the dark. Sit down and eat your dinner." Sanchez said. The moon will be up a couple of hours before dawn. We'll go then"
"You will come with me?"
"Of course little brother."
The moon was fading and the sky lightening when the brothers reached Daytons, an hour before dawn. They sat watching the moonlit ranch and could detect no signs of movement or evidence of guards. Leaving their horses in the shade of a clump of trees, they moved cautiously forward until they were only some fifty yards from the barns and corral. Again they stopped and Sanchez whispered,
"Its strange there are no guards after the Indian raids we've been having."
"But there's a light in the big barn," Jose replied and Sanchez noticed, for the first time, the thin crack of light escaping between the doors. "And look, there's two horses harnessed to a cart."
"What the hell are they playing at?"
Suddenly there was the sound of a heavy bolt being pulled back and both men froze. Slowly the barn doors swung open.
"Down," Sanchez hissed, dropping to the ground and pulling his brother down with him. A ruggedly good-looking man emerged, the lantern swinging from his right hand throwing into sharp relief the big glans jutting against his threadbare levis. Then Viking and Corky emerged carrying Bradburn, naked and bound hand and foot. Jose reared up and Sanchez, who was still holding his brother's arm,
tightened his grip.
"Keep down Jose. We don't want to wake the whole ranch. Jose sank back and Sanchez could feel him trembling like a wild animal poised for flight. Bradburn was swung into the cart like a sack of grain and covered with sacking. Viking and Corky climbed aboard and, as the cart trundled slowly away, Viking shouted over his shoulder,
"Hit the sack for another couple of hours Walt, and you'll feel better."
"Yeah but it won't do much for my sore ass," the cowboy called back and Corky gave a snort of laughter. Walt walked back across the corral and the brothers watched the cart move slowly away and turn onto the western trail.
"Come on," Sanchez whispered and leaping to his feet, sprinted back to the horses.
"Where are we going," Jose asked?
"North into those hills."
"Why?"
"Trust me, come on, little brother."
They rode north for about ten minutes then picked their way along a very rough track heading west along the ridge of the hills. As the sky lightened they made better speed and at last reached the brow of the last hill, overlooking the desert. Below them the trail emerged from the hills and ran, straight as an arrow, out across the sea of red sand and cactus.
"We're in time, come on Jose, let's get down there and prepare a surprise for them."
They heard the creak of the cart and stepped out of the rocks on each side of the trail as it drew level, guns drawn.
"Stop," Sanchez yelled, his gun levelled at Viking's head.
"What the fuck is this," Viking shouted belligerently, but reined-in the horses?
"Hands up high and step down."
"Sure Mister, but go easy with that gun," Viking replied in a more conciliatory tone. He rose from the driving seat and then, without warning, flung himself down on to Sanchez. The two men crashed to the ground and the gun went off. Jose eyes flicked away from Corky for a second which was all the time he needed. He kicked the gun levelled at him out of Jose's hand and sprung at him. Sanchez was a big strong man, useful with his fists, but was outclassed by Viking and was soon taking a beating. Jose and Corky traded punches before two hard crosses had the red-headed man reeling. Then Jose threw a haymaker and Corky dodged it, more by luck than judgement, and seeing a chance, brought his knee up hard into Jose's balls.
"Got yah, you bastard," Corky snarled and, as Jose bucked forward, smashed his fist into his mouth. Jose went down hard onto his back and Corky staggered towards the cart. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Jose saw Corky reaching for the shotgun hanging in it's long holster. He rolled onto his side and reached back for his throwing knife. The blade thudded into Corky's back and he grunted, dropped to his knees, then pitched forward onto his face. Jose scrambled to his feet, snatched up the shotgun, and lurched around the cart.Viking straddled Sanchez, pinning him down with his knees as he raised his fist. Jose transferred his grip to the barrel of the shotgun and swung it at Viking's head. The butt struck the blond head with a loud crack and Viking fell forward onto Sanchez, senseless.
Jose dragged the limp body off his brother and helped him to his feet. The two brothers clung to each other for a moment, then Jose said,
"Can yuou see to Corky, I think I've killed him. Sanchez pulled the knife out of Corky's shoulder and rolled him over.
"He'll be okay, Jose. its only a shoulder wound. But he's losing a lot of blood. I'd best get him back to the ranch. You be okay here?"
"Yes," he replied, climbing into the cart. He pulled the sacking away and the naked, bound Marshal sat up.
"Thank God you are okay," Jose said, drawing Bradburn into his arms. The Marshal groaned,
"Hey, Jose, get this fucking badge out of my tit and untie me before you crush the life out of me."
"My God, you've taken a beating Abe ," Jose said when they finally released each other.
"Yeah, but I'll live. Come on let's get that blond bastard stripped and tied up."
"Stripped...?"
"Sure, you might like me walking around bollock-naked but a lot of folk don't take to it lightly."
"Sorry I'm being dumb," Jose said as Bradburn rolled Viking over onto his back and started to ease
off his boots. Jose stripped off Viking's shirt and chaps then sat back on his haunches and stared at the heavily muscled torso and the enormous bulge in the guy's pants.
"He might be an evil bastard but at least he's clean," Bradburn said as he peeled off Viking's hose. "Now stop gawping and help me get his levis off."
Bradburn stared at the massive cock, thick and tumescent, lying across Viking's hairy belly and felt his own dick hardening. He turned and, seeing that Jose was staring open-mouthed he snapped,
"Get the fucking rope, come on Jose, move it, he's coming round."
"Oh Yes, sorry." As they tied Viking's ankles and lashed his wrists together behind him, Bradburn said.
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