Cowboy Necromancer: Infinite Dusk

by Harmon Cooper

  “It may be the bedding.” The Sunflower Kid sent one of her vines in to investigate the room, an uncomfortable look coming across her face. “We should probably try to find someplace else.”

  “I don’t disagree, but part of me wants to keep an eye on Don Gasper, to make sure he knows what he’s getting into. Tell you what: you take whatever room is better, and have your plants spruce it up a bit. Whatever you need to do. I can sleep out here,” he said, motioning toward a plastic chair that sat against the outer wall of the motel. “It could be good to keep guard anyway.”

  “If you insist.”

  “You’re welcome to try to talk me out of it,” he said, still watching Don Gasper and Magdalena make out, “but it’s probably best that we keep our eye on them two. I will say this, though. If whatever they have cooked up for tomorrow don’t smell right, you and me will deal with that militia on our own. Sure, it would be better with a few more recruits. But between us, I think we can do it. Me with my animates, you with, well, I don’t need to give you direction when it comes to whipping ass and taking names.”

  The Sunflower Kid hesitated for a moment.

  “Well? What are you thinking?”

  “Perhaps we should just leave now for the military base and camp near there. I could send some of my plants forward to investigate.”

  “That ain’t a bad idea, but we should at least hear them out. I owe that to Gasper.” Sterling nodded once again to the shaman. “But I can’t shake this feeling, Kid. These shamans, witches, enchanters, sorcerers, you-name-it, whatever they call themselves in English or Spanish or some native language—all of them got a couple screws loose. If things get too crazy tomorrow, like they almost did back in Las Cruces, you and me can bail. We can get Roxy and this technomancer on our own, then head north again, pick up Paco, if his people will let him go, then either head to Madrid or Albuquerque, likely Madrid first to regroup and check on Raylan.”

  “It sounds like we have a full plate.”

  “It sure does, but I always got room for seconds.” Sterling plopped down into the plastic chair, surprised it didn’t give way. “Go ahead and pick out which room you’d like. Try to get comfortable, and get some rest. If this ends up going for more than a day, maybe tomorrow night we can find someplace better to lay our purty little heads. I sure would like a real bed, and Lord only knows what’s been sleeping in that one in there.”

  “What if we go find a better place to stay, and bring Gasper with us? Then he’ll know where to meet us in the morning, and if he doesn’t show, we go on our own. I know you wanted to watch him, but this puts some of the responsibility on him.”

  Sterling watched Magdalena float away and start moving faster in a westerly direction.

  “Yeah, that could work.” Sterling whistled for Gasper to come down to join them. While he waited for the shaman to head down the stairs, he rolled up a cigarette, which he was just sliding into his mouth when Gasper reached the pair.

  “Hungry already?” Gasper asked. He now was shirtless, in a pair of tight jeans shorts with beads hanging from their threads and moccasins. The shaman had on more jewelry than he normally did, necklaces, bracelets, and it looked like he had even trimmed the white hairs that normally jutted off the sides of his head.

  “Gasper, no offense, but there ain’t no way in hell we’re staying in this motel for the night. There’s gotta be a better place. Show us what Alamogordo has to offer, and then you can meet us at this better place tomorrow morning with Magdalena.”

  “You would stay somewhere like this if you were alone, no?”

  “I ain’t alone, and I intend to treat the Sunflower Kid here like the lady that she is.”

  “She can just use her plants to cover the room and make it comfortable.”

  “Gasper…” Sterling said in a stern voice.

  “Ah, you win. You’re in luck; there is a better place not too far from here.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “You haven’t seen me in several days, I thought that we would be hanging out, just like old times, like in Las Cruces.” Gasper motioned for the two of them to follow him.

  “Hang out? Just in case you forgot, when I showed up in Las Cruces, you were on a stage covered in blood and speaking tongues to a damn rattler. We slept in a goddamn shed that night, and the next day I had to find someone named Juan, which almost proved to be fatal for Yours Truly. That night, we crashed in a musty trailer, only to be attacked by Killbillies the next day. To be honest, I never quite figured out how they found us.”

  “Could have been Juan,” Gasper suggested as they made their way down an alley headed toward the east.

  “Could have. My point remains, we have hung out plenty, believe you me. Now, if there is a tavern of sorts around whatever lodging you’re leading us to, I’d be happy to drink some tequila with you.”

  “Do you have money?”

  “I got a fair amount on my way up from T or C, but you know how money goes when you’re traveling.”

  “Maybe you could offer your services.”

  “I’d like to avoid that as much as possible. Last time I tried to offer my services, I ended up reigniting a feud between friends and learning about all sorts of debauchery that takes place in Las Cruces.”

  “Heh, that sounds about right. What about you?” he asked the Sunflower Kid. “Would you be willing to barter your services for room, board, and drink?”

  “Something tells me we should keep a low profile here.”

  “Is that why she is riding a pronghorn?” Gasper asked Sterling.

  “His name is Watermelon,” the Sunflower Kid informed him.

  “An excellent name. I had me a watermelon just a couple months ago, down in Mexico. It was muy delicioso.”

  “You didn’t keep any of the seeds, did you?” she asked the shaman, suddenly interested.

  “Any of the seeds? No, they have passed through me by now.”

  Sterling shook his head. “That’s not what she meant.”

  “Next time I go down there, or anywhere that has an exotic fruit, I’ll keep some seeds, I promise you,” he told her as they moved through the parking lot of an old grocery store, a few shopping carts out front missing their wheels, the place apparently looted long ago. Gasper turned toward the entrance of the grocery store.

  “It’s here.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Appearances can be deceiving, Sterling. Leave your pronghorn behind,” he told the Sunflower Kid as he motioned toward the abandoned grocery store. “Maybe tie it off over there.”

  Once she dismounted, Don Gasper led them over the broken glass and to a door that had been painted black, the walls dark gray.

  “Are you ready for this?” Gasper asked as he reached for the door handle.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Sterling huffed.

  Sterling was greeted by a hotel that had been built inside the grocery store, the abandoned building essentially operating as cover. It was clandestine, and the hotel, which extended from the floor to the ceiling, was set in adobe brick, seating up front with lights and a large series of generators far enough away from the open front that it wouldn’t appear suspicious. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it from outside, nor heard the chatter of a few people at a restaurant inside the establishment, Sterling also seeing a trading post where the pharmacy used to be, the design of the place oozing post-apocalyptic ingenuity.

  “The Albertson’s Hotel, huh?” Sterling asked, reading the repurposed sign. “This ain’t bad at all. Hell, you should be staying here, rather than that roach motel.”

  “Magdalena likes the roach motel,” Gasper said, a twinkle in his eye at the mention of her name. “It’s a way to be closer to the people, not the burguesía that stay in this place.”

  “If there’s a place for me to take a bath, relax, enjoy my damn self, I’ll be part of your burguesía, as you put it. At least for a night or two. Now, let’s figure out how we’re going to pa
y for this place and hopefully save me a bit of turquoise and silver.” Both Sterling and Don Gasper looked to the Sunflower Kid.

  “Let’s,” she said. She stepped around the two men and headed into the hotel.

  The clandestine Albertson’s Hotel was now filled with beautiful plants, full-grown cacti, and fruit—fruit!—pretty much assuring that Sterling and the Sunflower Kid would have their lodging covered for the night. The rooms were down a clean hallway, the walls done up in dried mud brick that had been painted white, giving the place a Tuscan feel, this further accentuated by the beautiful ocean a local artist had painted on one of the walls. It really was something.

  After settling into their rooms, Sterling joined Don Gasper at the bar, a bottle of tequila set out before the shaman. They had invited the Sunflower Kid to eat and drink with them as well, but she seemed content in adding her unique touch to the hotel and leaving the two to their vices.

  “Tell me everything that happened,” Don Gasper said, his eyes wavering a bit as he looked at Sterling. He was high on something other than marijuana, likely peyote, but seemed sober enough to have a conversation.

  “We have chips and salsa, tamales, and tacos. What would you like?” the bartender asked, a stocky man with the jowls of a pig.

  “Tacos for me,” Sterling said. “Christmas.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m fasting,” Don Gasper told him. “But you’re welcome to have a shot with us.” The shaman tilted his bearded chin to the bottle of tequila.

  “It’s okay. I had too much last night.”

  “Chips and salsa, while you’re at it,” Sterling said just as the bartender was about to step away. He turned his focus back to Don Gasper. “Everything that happened, huh?”

  “While the women are away, sure.”

  “Everything went well enough.” He poured up two shots of tequila and handed one of the glasses to Don Gasper. They toasted and threw back their shots, Sterling wincing before he continued. “Headed north, after stopping by T or C to see about some treasure. You know Kip. Well, he turned out to be right, and we found some silver and turquoise buried in the hull of an old ship. Had to kill an amalgamation to get it, but them’s the ropes. Then it was north, nothing to write home about until I reached Alamillo, where some Hopis set up a pueblo.”

  “Long way from the rez in Arizona…”

  “That’s what I told them, but they said it was ancestral land, and I wasn’t one to question them. They knew about you.”

  “Ah,” Gasper said, something sparking behind his eyes. “I know the group you’re talking about now. They have a solimancer.”

  “Paco. He wants to join up.”

  “Join you?”

  “I told him to get permission from Abuela first.”

  “She won’t let him.”

  “We’ll see. They seemed to like me, or at least she did. That was the vibe I got. Kept calling me Skeleton Man.”

  “Masau’u?”

  “You’re familiar?”

  “I’m in the shaman business. Of course I’m familiar,” Gasper said as he poured up another pair of shots. Before Sterling could roll a cigarette, the bartender returned with an ashtray and several pre-rolled cigarettes on a plate.

  “This place continues to impress me.”

  “If you look hard enough, you’ll find more places like this across the Southwest. I found plenty in Mexico,” Gasper told him. “You just gotta keep your eyes open. People have adapted, you know, to our environment. But they still have to maintain the outside appearance because of things like vandals and militias.” They clinked their shot glasses together and threw back their tequila. “It’s good stuff, no?”

  “It is. And I will be on the lookout. Shee-it, it beats sleeping in abandoned houses, especially now that I got the Kid with me. Although, I do like the pueblos and the natives. Always a good time and a hearty meal there. Anyway, as I was saying, Skeleton Man. She called me that and wouldn’t stop.”

  “She thinks you’re their god of death?”

  “Seems to me that she thinks anyone with a mancer power is some kind of god or goddess. I kept telling her there ain’t nothing special about me, aside from my good looks.”

  Don Gasper laughed at this comment. “And your modesty.”

  “But anyway, they helped me solve the riddle, and I discovered that the Sunflower Kid had been taken by a cult run by a telemancer claiming she was Jesus. Called themselves the Culto Demente Sagrado.”

  “Heh.”

  Sterling proceeded to tell Don Gasper how he had continued north. He then circled back around to the bounty hunter that was after him, the cryomancer known as Ram, the man in all white, who seemed to be stalking Sterling. He told him how he had discovered a gang member from Albuquerque frozen on the road, a challenge of sorts. He explained that he had decided to ride to Madrid instead, where he’d met Raylan and the pyromancer who would likely join their group named Sierra, that he had learned Zephyr was in Albuquerque. And inevitably, after another round of shots and more chips and salsa, this led to a discussion on how Ram had attacked him in Madrid.

  “Would you like me to put a hex on him?” Don Gasper asked after a long pause, a serious look taking shape on his face. “I know many curses. Perhaps I could take his heart.”

  “I can’t say that wouldn’t help, but I think I want to see this one to its natural conclusion myself.”

  “When you go to Albuquerque for Zephyr, right?” Don Gasper asked.

  “That’s not the only reason I need to go to Albuquerque,” Sterling said as his food came. “There may be some more information there on my wife and my son.”

  “Isabella, I remember. But how would there be more information there?”

  Sterling took a bite of his taco, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “There was a logo of sorts with an address beneath it on the insurance card I found. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Raylan spotted it, and told me that the place was in Duke City. So I got me a little side quest is what I’m trying to say here.”

  This caused Don Gasper to laugh. “Don’t we all?”

  Sterling finished his meal, and wrapped up the conversation by explaining how he had rescued the Sunflower Kid after battling a serpent amalgamation, and how she had transformed the ruins outside of Mountainair.

  “It sounds like the Garden of Eden,” Gasper commented.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what the telemancer was calling it; she was putting out psychic waves of Bible quotes that she had tailored to her own needs. I didn’t like her one bit, but I never actually saw her. Did see a bunch of her minions though. And apparently there’s a hydromancer who helped the Sunflower Kid; didn’t see him neither.”

  “You have made enemies,” Gasper said as he started to pour another round of tequila shots, his hand was a little shaky now.

  “You should eat something.”

  “No, I’m fasting. And besides…” He threw a shot back without clinking it against Sterling’s glass. “Magdalena is waiting for me.”

  Gasper stood, winked at Sterling, let him know that he would return in the morning, and departed. For a few minutes, Sterling sat in silence at the bar, still with some tequila left in the bottle, plenty of chips and salsa, just minding his own business.

  A woman approached wearing a red dress, a shawl draped over her shoulders. She had sparkling high heels on her feet, and her makeup had been done up, her lips the same color as her dress, a small mole just above her lip. Sterling couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a woman dressed in such an alluring way. He immediately took his hat off and greeted her. “Ma’am.”

  “Hi,” she started to say only to be interrupted by the Sunflower Kid, who was suddenly standing there eating an orange.

  “I didn’t get your name,” Sterling told the woman.

  “I didn’t give it to you.”

  “I have something to show you,” the Sunflower Kid said, interrupting the two of them. Sterling finally looked from the woman
to the biomancer, who had changed her hairstyle. It was now pink, cut so it hung just below her chin. She had a flower stuck behind her ear, something devious about the look on her face.

  “Well, looks like I’m being summoned, ma’am.” Sterling quickly returned to the tequila and poured up the two final shots. He handed one to the woman, and they toasted and threw the shots back. From there, Sterling followed the Sunflower Kid to the front of the establishment, past the entrance to the parking lot.

  “This better be good,” he said once they were outside. Everything was dark, not a single light lighting the parking lot or the streets surrounding it. There was a hint of blue to the sky, mostly from the stars above, and Sterling noticed now that his motor skills were a bit off. How much tequila had he drunk?

  “She’s a prostitute,” the Sunflower Kid said.

  “That don’t make her any more or less than anyone else around here, or anyone in this world, for that matter.”

  “I just thought you would like to know.”

  “I don’t need my mother around here telling me who’s who and what’s what,” he said, feeling the effects of the alcohol and all the chips and salsa he had consumed, not to mention the tacos, which were sitting heavy in his stomach.

  “I thought you would want to fly.”

  “Fly?” Sterling reached in his front pocket for a cigarette, glad that he had nicked one of them from the bar during his conversation with Don Gasper. The cigarette in his mouth, he lit it and enjoyed it for a moment as he sized up the Sunflower Kid.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Pardon me. I ain’t used to traveling with womenfolk.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “That’s for damn sure, especially after Roxy comes around. Won’t be none of that,” he said, nodding toward the bar inside the hotel. “Ain’t going to lie, neither. I haven’t seen someone dolled up like that in ages. It just took me by surprise. Talk about power, but I guess that sort of comes with her job, flirting, being confident, shit, you probably just saved me whatever turquoise and silver I have left. I still don’t know if I should thank you, though. Might have been turquoise well spent.”