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  Uriah Moon appeared out of the swirling mists like a phantom and put the fear of the Almighty into the blackened hearts of the unpunished.

  No one knew with certainty where he’d come from, or if he was good or bad. Was he was an avenging angel, or perhaps one of the devil’s most dangerous allies?

  All anyone truly knew about Uriah Moon was that he was a vigilante who righted wrongs.

  Put simply, Uriah Moon was judge, jury and executioner.

  URIAH MOON 1: JUDGE, JURY AND EXECUTIONER

  By Gary Wayne

  Copyright © 2021 by Gary Wayne

  First Electronic Edition: March 2021

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by means (electronic, digital, optical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges

  Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  Published by Arrangement with the Author.

  Dedicated with love and gratitude to the memory of my kid brother.

  Prologue

  THE SOUND OF sporadic gunfire might have alerted most rational men to steer clear of this lawless settlement set upon the fringes of the sprawling desert, but it only lured the white-haired horseman toward it. There was nothing about the sound of gunshots which held any fear for the bearded vigilante. It simply meant that he had finally located the place he had been looking for. He increased his mount’s pace by thrusting his spurs into the exhausted animals flesh and urging it ever onward toward the sprawling settlement as the heavens darkened above him.

  The rugged township of Mission Wells had yet to succumb to civilization and for the majority of its occupants that suited them just fine. It was a place where the Devil was said to dwell in its many shadows and what law there had once been had been gunned down and dragged to Boot Hill.

  This was a place where only the desperate or the brave dared to spend any time. For most it was a safe haven from the hangman’s noose but for the many it was just a place to wait until the Grim Reaper came looking for you. Those who frequented its numerous saloons, gambling halls and brothels were a breed set apart from the rest of humanity. They lived by a different code. A code which was carved into the very souls of its many inhabitants, both living and dead.

  Whatever brought men into its unmarked boundaries was known only to themselves. There was no tomorrow for these folks and they lived as though every second was their last. For some, it truly was. Men drank rivers of cheap booze and bedded as many of the willing females as they could until they needed more money. Only then would they head out to kill and steal until they had replenished their bankrolls.

  Darkness hung over Mission Wells as the solitary rider steered his muscular gelding into its winding streets before drawing back on his reins and stopping the lathered up mount. This was a creature whose name and reputation was known throughout the ever expanding West. Yet few believed any of the tall tales which had been accredited to the unholy figure.

  Both good and bad men alike were not safe from the justice Uriah Moon dished out. He would mercilessly kill anyone he deemed guilty of breaking the unknown laws which were branded into his innards.

  He was judge, jury and executioner and no one had ever survived his wrath. Whatever drove him ever onward was a secret that only he knew. Some speculated that he was simply insane but others knew better. Whatever drove Uriah Moon on his bloody path, it was not insanity.

  Gunshots still rang out from all directions in Mission Wells as his narrowed eyes surveyed the towering structures ahead of his loyal mount. The rear of buildings revealed far more than the highly decorated facades most folks were drawn to.

  He stopped and steadied his horse and started to nod to himself. This fitted the mental picture he had branded into his mind. This was where he had been instructed about.

  Every sinew in his tall frame knew that he had reached his destination. This was where Moon had been told he would find the youthful gunman who knew the name and location of his next target.

  Uriah Moon dismounted in a swift fluid action and tied up his horse to a porch upright. Whatever had brought the strange figure to Mission Wells was known only to Moon himself and he was content in keeping his motives and prey a closely guarded secret.

  The tall, well-built drifter moved like a phantom through the numerous shoulder high garbage cans until he stood at the rear entrance to the imposing brothel. Moon looked to the two saloons set to either side of the whore house. The only difference between the buildings was that cheap perfume wafted from the brothel unlike the aroma of stale whiskey and beer that spilled from the saloons many open windows. More shots rang out in the night air.

  Moon paused at the rear of the whore house and studied the three story structure through narrowed eyes. As the night breeze moved his mane of long white hair until it beat upon his wide shoulders like a war drum, he pushed the tails of his jacket over the grips of his holstered guns.

  His long white beard swayed as he pulled a black leather lace from his pocket and tied it around its hairy girth. He tightened it so it remained subdued.

  The agile stranger mounted the wooden steps up to the rear door of the structure and grabbed the rusted door handle. He turned the handle and followed the door into the back room of the building. The room exactly matched the description he had been told about and Moon knew that this was part of the service area that the paying patrons never set eyes upon. He pushed the door back and closed it behind him, and then looked up the crude staircase that led to the upper floors. He could see steam escaping from the laundry room above him and silently nodded to himself.

  This perfectly matched the verbal map which was branded into his memory. Moon edged toward the steps and caught a brief hint of cheap perfume in his flared nostrils.

  Few structures were more inviting than the place where soiled doves provided comfort to the many who wished to buy a few moments of their services. Uriah Moon had visited many similar houses of pleasure in his time and knew that this was exactly where he would locate his chosen prey.

  His long fingers pulled a pocket watch from his jacket and flicked its lid open. An oil lamp above his head allowed Moon’s narrowed eyes to squint at the dial. He nodded to himself as he returned the watch to his pocket.

  Uriah Moon knew that he had ten minutes before his chosen target would be at the place of his nightly ritual. He flicked the safety loops off the hammers of his guns and then started up the stairwell. His fixed spurs gave no clue or sound as to his ascent. With every step upward, Moon’s icy stare searched the shadowy landing. Moon knew that all large brothels had their own laundries and staff to run them as they constantly needed sheets and towels replenished. As he reached the landing he knew that he had one more floor to go.

  A few moments later Moon had reached the top floor. Without a second’s hesitation he quickly opened a door and was almost knocked backward by the powerful scent of cheap perfume. This part of the building was in complete contrast to the section he had just vacated.

  The corridor was well lit with wall attached oil lamps which illuminated the brightly painted walls and doors. Compared to the drag darkness of the service area, was almost blinding.

  ‘This sure ain’t a bank,’ he muttered to himself as he strode from door to door re
ading the names pinned to their surfaces.

  The vigilante proceeded along the long corridor slowly. Yet the name that he was searching for was not to be found. This confused him as he reached the very end of the corridor and started to retrace his steps. So far every part of his information had been exactly right concerning the buildings layout and yet the name of the soiled dove that he had been told was on one of the doors, was missing.

  Uriah Moon had reached the service door again and stroked his beard in confusion. Where was the name of Sagebrush Belle? he silently asked himself. This was his chosen prey’s favorite female and one which was visited nightly.

  The imposing Moon could hear the gratified noises ringing out from behind the many doors along the corridor as various patrons reached their individual levels of paradise. It was obvious to the vigilante that soon some of the satisfied customers would be leaving the rooms and their well-paid females and staggering home. Moon knew that it was unwise for him to stay in the colorful corridor and be seen by anyone before he had achieved his goal.

  Uriah Moon reached behind him, grabbed the door handle and moved back into the service area for a moment. His mind was screaming inside his skull as he tried to work out his next move. It seemed ridiculous that his entire plan could come to such an abrupt end by something as trivial as a name on a card pinned to a door.

  He looked down and shook his head angrily.

  Then his attention was drawn to one of the doors halfway along the corridor as it suddenly opened and a female led her exhausted customer away from their mutual Eden. The middle-aged man staggered beside his consort and held her arm in a mixture of gratitude and fear of collapsing.

  Moon watched them turn the corner to head on down into the heart of the whore house. His long frame moved back into the corridor as he wandered along its length again.

  Moon was angry.

  He drew one of his guns and cocked his hammer in readiness as his cold eyes studied each of the doors in turn. As he silently read the names once more and grew even more frustrated with every step.

  ‘Where the hell is Sagebrush Belle?’ he quietly whispered as he reached the last of the rooms without success. He turned on his heels and frowned and looked blankly at the doors to either side of him. His mind raced as he recalled the information he had so bloodily extracted before heading to Mission Wells. Information which had been correct up until his moment.

  Where was Sagebrush Belle?

  How could every other detail be correct and a simple name be wrong? It made no sense to the vigilante as he gripped his six-shooter evermore tightly.

  His mind angrily screamed at him as he aimed his gun at every door in turn. He had been guided to this spot but now the very last piece of the jigsaw was missing.

  Then suddenly the door to the service area swung open behind his broad back. Instinctively Moon spun around, grabbed out at the figure hidden by a pile of sheets and towels.

  With one hand covering the drab females face and the other holding the gun to her temple they both fell to the floor inside the drab service landing. The startled female stared with wide eyes at the man on top of her in complete horror.

  For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, Moon said nothing as he looked down at her. He then realized that she was just one of the less attractive females who were forced to labor in the less colorful part of the brothel. Moon pulled the barrel of his gun away from her temple.

  Their eyes met.

  She was terrified as she lay beneath him and watched in stunned surprise as he slowly loosened his grip.

  ‘Do not scream,’ he warned. ‘I’ll kill you if you make a sound. Do you understand?’

  She knew that he was telling the truth. She blinked in reply to his ominous warning.

  Moon pulled his hand away from her mouth. She gasped as her eyes flashed all about them. The towels and sheets she had been carrying were strewn all across the floor around them.

  ‘Where’s Sagebrush Belle?’ Moon drawled.

  She looked puzzled. ‘Belle don’t start work until nine.’

  It was Uriah Moon’s turn to look puzzled. ‘What you mean?’

  The female got up off her back and sat beside the deadly intruder as she sighed heavily. Her thin left arm raised and pointed down the corridor.

  ‘Belle takes over Gracie’s room at nine,’ the female said shakily. ‘That’s why I’m up here. It’s my job to change the name on the door and change the bedding and towels.’

  Without uttering a word, Moon got to his feet and rubbed his bearded jaw thoughtfully. He helped her underfed frame up to her feet.

  ‘I’m sorry I hurt you,’ he declared before pulling a silver dollar from his vest pocket and handing it to the female. ‘Don’t tell anyone about my being here and I’ll give you another five bucks.’

  ‘You will?’ she beamed with excitement.

  He nodded and then they both spied Gracie vacate her room with her customer in tow. The buxom lady then guided him down the staircase back into the belly of the whore house.

  ‘I better work fast,’ the skinny female next to Moon declared as she picked up the towels and folded sheets and headed to the room where Gracie had just exited.

  Uriah Moon followed her into the room.

  It was ten minutes later after the thin girl had completed her tasks and left with another five silver dollars tucked safely into her underwear when Moon heard raised voices outside the room door.

  The merciless drifter had already secreted himself behind a rack of feathery garments and backed into the darkest part of the fragrant room. As the door opened, Moon watched Sagebrush Belle lead the drunken man into the room then close and bolt the door behind them.

  That suited him just fine.

  Moon’s eyes squinted hard from over the top of the rack of clothes as Sagebrush Belle quickly disrobed until all that remained of her garments were stockings and garters.

  Her customer was a lot slower at undressing. Moon watched as the shapely female moved to the bed and slid in between its crisp white sheets and lay back as she tried to utter erotic encouragement and conceal her boredom.

  ‘Oh, I have never seen anyone built like you, Charlie,’ she lied as she stared at the ceiling. ‘You’re so big. So manly. I’m sure you’ve grown a whole inch since last night.’

  The gunman chuckled as he dragged his boots free of his almost black feet as her flattery stroked his ego.

  ‘You reckon?’ Charlie Erle grinned as he managed to hang his pants on a couch beside his gunbelt. ‘Shucks, I reckon you must be why I’m growing, Belle. You got the knack.’

  The words had only just dripped from Erle’s mouth when Moon emerged from behind the clothes rail and strode up behind the unsuspecting man. As Erle drooled at the sight of the temptress lying in the bed, he felt Moon’s six-gun lash him across the nape of his neck.

  The blow stunned him.

  A white flash exploded inside his skull and removed all other thoughts from his whiskey fueled mind.

  Erle crumpled and landed on his knees.

  For a few moments Erle remained stunned as the impact of the glancing blow slowly wore off. He was still conscious but unable to retaliate.

  Over the years Sagebrush Belle had witnessed many things in her long career and grown used to the unexpected. Little startled the highly paid female any longer. The sight of two men brawling at the foot of her bed was not unusual. Belle raised her eyebrows and turned her attention to the sight before her. A younger, less experienced female might have screamed, but not Belle.

  She looked over the bedsheets at the imposing Moon and could not help smiling at him.

  ‘Don’t mind me, stranger,’ Belle sighed. ‘You carry on. I’m grateful for the rest.’

  Uriah Moon dug deep into his jacket pocket and located a coin. He then tossed the golden eagle in her direction. She caught the fifty-dollar gold piece expertly in her small hands and smiled.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Erle blurted.

 
Moon did not answer. HE simply took hold of Erle’s lank hair, dragged him off his knees and threw him against an unyielding wall. Before Erle had time to slide on to the rugs, the tall Moon had rammed a boot in the drunken man’s direction. His boot leather caught the younger man just under his chin and forced his head back against the wall.

  For a few moments the tall vigilante simply stared down at his prey. There was no hint of emotion in the face of Moon as he silently glared at his victim.

  Moon eased the pressure of his boot against the gunman’s throat allowing Erle to suck in air as his watering eyes looked up at the daunting sight.

  ‘Who in tarnation are you?’ Erle bleated like a lamb on its way to slaughter. ‘What you want with me?’

  Uriah Moon pulled his boot away from Erle’s throat and allowed him to fall heavily on to his face. Even the sound of a nose shattering did nothing to deter the bearded figure from his chosen course of action.

  ‘You know what I want.’ Moon growled.

  Charlie Erle raised his bloodied face and stared at Moon. He suddenly began to know what the emotionless man above him wanted. He wanted information. Information that only Erle possessed.

  Desperately he grabbed at Moon’s boots. Moon effortlessly kicked the gunman in the face and then took a step backward to survey his handiwork.

  ‘Damn. This is too easy,’ Moon grunted and then holstered his gun as he hovered above the bleeding Erle. ‘This is way too easy.’

  Charlie Erle looked through his bloodied face at the strange white haired man above him. A man he did not recognize but instinctively knew was the most dangerous person he would ever encounter.

  ‘What you want, stranger?’ Erle blurted out.

  Uriah Moon reached down and grabbed the half-naked man with both hands and threw him across the room again. This time Erle collided with a cane chair before crashing into the room door violently.

  A bright red line of blood was left in the wake of Erle’s face sliding down the pink doors paintwork. As the crumpled young gunman panted like a kicked hound dog by the door, Moon turned and looked at Sagebrush Belle.