Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Moonlight
The lead rider reached the porch steps, his boot heel creaking against the old pine boards. Inside, Silas stood beside the door frame, his thumb resting lightly on the hammer of his rifle. Sayen stood just behind him, holding a loaded revolver she had taken from the mantle, her posture rigid and completely focused.
The man on the porch raised a heavy fist and knocked twice against the wood—a hollow, mocking sound that echoed through the quiet rooms.
"Open up, Mercer," a low, rough voice called out from the dark. "We know you've got a visitor who doesn't belong to you. Hand over the clerk and the girl, and nobody else has to bleed tonight."
Silas didn't raise his voice, but it carried clearly through the heavy oak. "You've got the wrong house, friend. And you're standing on private property."
"That property belongs to the territorial development syndicate now," the voice replied, devoid of humor. "Just like everything else from here to the river. You're standing in the way of progress, old man."
"Progress looks a lot like thievery when you wear a badge," Silas shot back.
On the porch, the silhouette shifted. The man drew his sidearm, the metal clicking sharply in the frosty air. "Last chance. Burn the papers and hand her over, or we burn the cabin around you."
Before the threat could fully hang in the air, a sharp crack echoed from the side of the house. Thomas Miller, overcome by panic or a sudden surge of desperate bravery, had fired a warning shot through the side window. The glass shattered, spraying shards across the porch railing.
The reaction from the yard was instantaneous.
A volley of gunfire erupted from the darkness. Lead slammed into the exterior logs of the cabin, sending splinters flying inward. One heavy slug pierced the wooden door frame just inches from Silas’s shoulder.
"Get down!" Silas shouted, shoving Sayen toward the heavy wooden root cellar door built into the cabin floor.
"I'm not hiding while you're out here!" Sayen protested, her eyes blazing.
"Get down in the cellar with Thomas and protect those papers!" Silas commanded, his voice dropping into a tone that brooked no argument. "That's an order!"
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For a second, their eyes locked—the same look they had shared across the desert when the cavalry had ambushed them. Then, nodding once, Sayen dropped to her knees, pulling Thomas down with her as she lifted the heavy cellar hatch and slipped inside into the safety of the dark earth below.
Silas chambered a round, blew out the single tallow candle on the table, and stepped out onto the porch into the cold, gunpowder-scented night.
