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Gunnin' for Dodge
Chapter 26: The Battle for Dodge

Chapter 26: The Battle for Dodge

Chapter 26 – The Battle for Dodge

August 10, 1865

Dodge City, KS

When they reached the city limits, scattered riders were roaming down the hills towards them. Flank after flank of black riders, different charters of Pawnee and rebel soldiers flooded the baron outskirts of Dodge. The road to the Fort was covered already. They had to turn. When they tried to exit Dodge from the north, more enemy lines of riders came bearing down on them. They had to return to the town. "We try the southern trail!" yelled out Marshall.

"It's no use! We should find a place to hold down."

They circled around each other in the middle of the street in Dodge. Peyton kept looking around, just like Marshall, and Ira, waiting for one of their enemies to show themselves. It was noon. The sun bore down on their backs and more rebel outlaws and renegades swarmed Dodge from all sides.

"What are we going to do?" Marshall panicked. Peyton wanted to comfort him, but it was beyond that. "Marshall," Peyton demanded, "What did you see back in Wichita?" Ira was still weakened. He tried to keep himself up.

"I thought I saw… something."

"What did you see?"

"It's just not possible and as a physician I can only assume it was a hallucination brought on by stress.”

“Marshall.”

“Okay, I thought I saw FreeLander… rise from the dead."

"Maybe I didn't kill him."

"You put bullets through his head and heart."

"So what are we talking about here?" Ira finally spoke up.

Marshall had no answer for him.

Peyton tried to remember his catholic school days in the orphanage, stories of Revelation with fallen angels battling over mankind. Peyton felt a deep tread in his heart, the same sort of feeling when someone mentioned one of the Orphan Outlaws or the Black Pawnee. He said slowly, "It could be demons."

Ira was not at all convinced. Marshall considered the idea quietly to himself. There was no humanly way possible to come back from that many close range gunshots. FreeLander had to be something else, something unnatural. Marshall had spent many years in school and also studied the occult; he had done thorough research in the bible, Christianity, and the canon of angels at universities all over the country. But to actually think that they were real was beyond terrifying.

The cavalry of Pawnees infiltrated the city. Ira lifted up his rifle and began gunnin’ them down as best he could. Peyton and Marshall galloped down the road blasting off their guns. The pillaging now covered the entire town. Women and children were running for their lives as stores and houses burned down all around them. The renegades and rebels struck at them with no mercy. So, Peyton, Marshall, and Ira intervened. After kicking some much needed ass, they rallied as many innocent townsfolk as best they could down the street and led them back to the train station. Marshall and Ira led them inside. Peyton cleared the station, the few men who were with the citizens stepped forward.

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"You must hold this station," Ira said to them. Peyton reloaded Kid Colt’s dragoons and Marshall got ready behind Ira as he talked to the townsfolk. "We will hold them off as long as we can." The looks he received were a mix between fear and gratitude. Marshall thought there would be more but that was it. That was all Ira had to say. A man of few yet powerful words.

Marshall, Ira, and Peyton left the train station, and they barricaded the doors behind them. Ira stood on the left side of Peyton, who was standing in the middle of the road, looking down the street towards the hotel and The Inferno. Marshall stood on the other side of Peyton, cocking his semi-auto pistol. Three gunslingers, three heroes, three last men standing in between Dodge and its imminent destruction. Peyton kept an eye on the gathering of the Black Pawnee who were riding in and looting the city down at the crossroads ahead of them.

"Here we go," Ira sighed as the enemy lines got ever closer.

The riders threatened to run them down firing their rifles at them, death seemed close at hand. Peyton rubbed the shiny colt dragoons with ivory handles.

The ground shook and Peyton realized... It took returning to the very town he condemned so many years ago, and saving it from being destroyed, to truly redeem himself. The riders of the Black Pawnee, both renegades turned away from their homeland by the government and rebel soldiers of the surrendered confederacy, poured upon the beaten main road of Dodge with their ironclad hooves, gunning for the train station, with only three gunslingers standing in their way. Peyton rubbed the bottom of his palms on the dragoon handles. Ira looked around for traces of Emma. Marshall muttered to himself, "This is how it ends."

They pulled their guns and the battle of Dodge began. Marshall and Ira fired their single side-arms on both sides of Peyton's dual dragoons. The renegades started crying out, hollering, and laughing. The bullets flew wildly at them as each one of their guns finished its rounds. As the first wave of horses practically collided with them a burst of heavy metal air snapped past Ira, Peyton, and Marshall's heads towards the rushing front of enemy troops. The bullets threw riders off the horses and horses to the floor.

The Union soldiers came charging from behind Ira, Peyton, and Marshall. They covered the train station and collided with the Black Pawnee, forcing the battlefront to scramble all over town. The Colonel from Fort Dodge galloped in with the rest of the reinforcements. Before Ira could ask how they knew to come, he saw Emma riding on the back of the Colonel's horse. Emma had saved them all, all except for her husband, Will.

The Colonel helped Emma find her own horse and round up the women and children to lead them out. The evacuation from the station to the fort was put into motion. Ira no longer had to worry about looking after his beloved Emma and could focus on the battle at hand. He found his horse and looked ahead. Peyton had also gotten his own horse and was now scrambling to cover Marshall.

Marshall was still standing in the middle of the street, firing his semi-auto pistol at every Pawnee rider that went by. He did not care that he could possibly be firing at his own kin. They were animals, animals that deserved to be put down! Ira peered over as if alerted by Marshall’s building fury. There sitting idly by right by the city slicker popping off round after round was Ira’s Modified rifle.

"MARSHALL!" he yelled out pointing incoherently, gathering both his and Peyton's attention. Marshall fired the last bullet in his clip. "MY RIFLE!" Ira added. Marshall looked over and picked up Ira's Modified. He fired it and reloaded as Peyton brought him over an unmanned horse. As they rallied together, Marshall threw Ira his rifle. The Colonel rode over to them barking, "This way!"

The Colonel led Ira, Marshall, and Peyton through Dodge. They quickly passed the Inferno. There was no one outside or around the doors or windows in the enemy bar. Ira spoke up next to the Colonel, "We have reason to believe that bar's their headquarters!"

"We'll circle back after we push for a front!"

The four riders made for the center of town. The town hall was up in flames along with the schoolhouse. Besides the flames, town square was practically emptied. "Ya’ll been promoted to field commanders," said the Colonel as he looked around at Marshall and Peyton.

"We're not soldiers."

"You are today." The Colonel demanded, "We each take a side of the town and drive them to the fort where the rest of my men are waiting. Our first priority is gettin' them outta Dodge!"

Peyton and Marshall nodded and agreed. They admired the Colonel's courage under fire. Ira looked over at the three of them and could feel this town would be saved tonight. As long as they had the Colonel to lead them to victory, they just might make it out alive.

Fire crackled with echoed gunshots behind them. The winds rapidly switched directions and a bullet was fired from the window of an abandoned building. The bullet cut right through the heart of the Colonel and he fell dead off his horse.