Running Buck waited in the small, dark wood storage room. Footsteps came towards the wooden door, then the sound of the outside latch opening .
"Hey! It's unlocked."
"Check it. Maybe that's how that crazy fool got in." The reply held no emotion, no regret for Svenson's death.
Some wood moved, while Running Buck lay as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe . "Cain't see nuthin'. Black as sin in there."
"You sure?"
"Yep. Nuthin'. 'Sides, anyone trying to come through there'd break his leg on the wood."
"All right. Check on it from the other side. And just in case, lock it. If anyone is in there, they'll be trapped. It ain't worth takin' no chances, not now."
Running Buck knew he had to change his plans; a lock was on the other side of the far door, and if he was trapped he could do nothing to help . Quickly he unstacked the wood from the far end and crouched beside the door, knife in hand, waiting for it to open. The robber's footsteps echoed in the otherwise-silent hall. The door opened, and Running Buck pounced just as the robber's head poked through the doorway. With his right hand, the Kiowa pulled the robber's head towards him, slicing his knife across the other man's throat with his left. Blood flowed, gushed, went everywhere as the robber's life force emptied itself. Running Buck pulled the body into the storage area with him, then past him, deeper into the darkness and quickly covered it with wood . He removed his outer clothing, now soaked in blood, checked the hall for any other signs of life, and went out, locking the door behind him. Hopefully, the robbers would think that it had been checked and locked by one of their own, and never think to find their compatriot hidden there.
Mother Mary Assumpta moved among the children and the other nuns, reassuring them despite her own trepidation. Whatever was going on, whoever the outlaws were waiting for, they were late, and tempers were growing short. The shots earlier on had frightened everyone, and Stevens was not a happy man. The only thing she could think of was that Svenson had managed to cut down one of the gang before his valiant but useless death, but knowing Svenson, that was unlikely, to say the least. All she could do was pray, keep the children as calm as possible, and wait for a miracle.
"Boss!" The third man Running Buck had seen earlier entered the schoolroom.
"What happened? Who's keeping lookout?" Stevens was angry, and it showed in his voice.
"Michaels and that other one you hired are dead. I never heard nuthin' but their bodies is outside. The short fellow with the curly hair is missin'. I cain't find him. You think maybe he killed Michaels and whats-his-name?"
"No, I don't," snapped Stevens, but he couldn't help wondering if perhaps Philips was right, for once in his life. They'd had to move quickly to pull this job, and he hadn't been able to check out all the members of the gang, but Byrne said he was trustworthy. 'Course, that meant trusting Byrne - and that wasn't always a wise thing to do. He made his decision.
"Johnson, stay here. I'll go and see what's happening outside. And keep that nun quiet!" he emphasised, pointing at the Reverend Mother. Stevens and Philips went out into the hallway not noticing the crack in the doorway they passed.
More coming soon...
