Chapter 9
Clara scrambled up through the floor grate first, her hands gripping the dusty curb of the alleyway before she pulled herself up into the open air. Eli followed right behind her, hoisting the heavy iron lockbox through the opening before pushing himself up with his good knee, wincing slightly as the joint flared with sharp pain.
They tumbled out into the narrow alleyway behind the dry goods store, scrambling behind a row of rusted empty rain barrels just as the muffled sound of shouting echoed from the cellar entrance they had just escaped.
"They're gone! They blew through the back wall!" Miller’s voice bellowed from the hardware store ruins, thick with fury. "Find 'em! They can't have gotten far in this town!"
Eli didn't waste a second. He grabbed Clara’s hand, pulling her low as they sprinted silently down the shadows of the alley toward the abandoned blacksmith's yard. The twilight was deepening fast, painting the wooden storefronts in shades of deep indigo and amber. In a town as small as Salt Creek, every open space was a hazard, but the labyrinth of collapsed sheds and rotting fences offered just enough cover for a desperate retreat.
They ducked behind the crumbling stone chimney of the blacksmith's forge, breathing heavily in the cool evening air. Eli risked a glance around the corner of the brickwork. Down the main street, the lights of the saloon glowed yellow through grease-stained windows, and the low murmur of voices drifted out into the dust. The enforcers were fanning out, their dark coats cutting through the twilight like ominous silhouettes.
"We can't stay in town," Eli whispered, looking down at Clara. Her face was smudged with soot, and a long tear ran down the front of her green dress, but her eyes remained remarkably calm and resolute. "Once they realize we didn't head out toward the rail camp, they'll check every abandoned homestead within a three-mile radius."
"My horse is tethered behind the old livery loft," Clara whispered back, her voice steady and clear. "Hidden in the hay stall where the syndicate's boys didn't look when they confiscated the rest of the stock."
Eli raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine respect crossing his weathered face. "You've got a horse hidden away? How'd you manage that under their noses?"
"I traded my mother's silver locket to the stable boy before he quit and headed south," she explained simply. "He looked the other way while I walked her into the back stall and fed her the last of the winter oats."
"Smart girl," Eli murmured, adjusting the grip on the heavy iron lockbox tucked securely under his arm. "Lead the way to the loft. Let's go collect your mare before Miller and his friends figure out our game."
They moved with practiced caution, darting from shadow to shadow until they reached the weathered, leaning structure of the livery stable. The sliding barn door was half-open, sagging off its rusted top rail. Inside, the darkness was thick and smelled sweet with the scent of dry hay and old leather.
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Clara led them directly to the rear stall. A dusty bay mare stood quietly in the corner, ears twitching forward as she recognized her owner. Clara stepped up to the stall door, whispering softly to the animal while reaching out to stroke its velvet muzzle with gentle, reassuring motions.
Eli stood guard by the entrance, his hand resting on the grip of his revolver as he scanned the main street through the gaps in the barn siding. The distant murmur of voices was growing fainter, but the threat was far from over.
