“Have you not wondered why your life took such a turn?” Pat asked. “You were a good kid and then...things changed. You were arrested, ran away from home, and by seventeen, you’d killed a man.”
“That was self-defense,” I said, without looking up from rolling a cigarette.
“Whether it was or it wasn’t, that’s not my point.”
I waved him on. “Then, by the grace of God, get to it, Mr. Garrett.”
“In the early fall of 1874, a woman by the name of Mary Richards came into your life.”
I halted my tobacco activities to look up at him, for now he had my full attention. “What could you possibly know about Miss Mary?”
“That she was a big influence in your life. Took you under her wing for a year and trained you, so to speak. Not just with writin’, but since you’re both ambidextrous, she secretly taught you how to shoot with both hands. Told you to call her by a nickname, somethin’ that sounded like Scawk...am I right?”
My heart pounded in my chest, reverberating off my bones. I looked up into his eyes, feeling the heat behind my own as I stared him down. “How could you possibly know that? I was fifteen and livin’ in Silver City.”
“You’re not the only ‘hero’ I’ve met who she’s tainted with her touch. In Ireland, her name would be Scáthach,” he said, pronouncing the Gaelic name SKAW-huhck. “She’s known as The Shadowy One, and though a great warrior, she is also the creator of monsters. Scáthach finds promisin’ heroes and trains ‘em. But no matter how pure they are at the start, they are forever tainted by their association with her.”
Garrett stepped up to the desk and leaned onto it with both hands, his face lowering to be in mine. “She is evil incarnate, son, and she touched your life. The path you walk down shall forever be filled with death and likely your own at an early age. Unless...”
He let that linger to the point where I fell into the trap. “Unless what?”
“You take that curse and use it to fight back at the monsters she’s created. Only then can you save your life and possibly your soul.”
That hung in the air, the quiet of the evening wrapping around us like a winter blanket as the weight of what he was saying lay heavy on my heart.
A woman somewhere outside called out to her children. A dog barked. A baby cried. The wind outside picked up enough speed that as it seeped through the window of the room, it whistled. It was a normal night, but everything in my world felt different.
Did I believe Pat? I was tempted to. It would explain a lot. Especially why I thought I saw Mary in the doorway, giving orders at the Dolan Store. But it was a lot to take in. So I stood there, silent.
Unsure of how long it had been, I realized Brewer was saying my name. Ignoring him, I turned to Pat. “Let me get this straight. What you want me to believe is that Mary, the one woman who showed me kindness after my mother passed, rules the dark realm of the Otherworld and she has tainted my life with death.”
“Yes,” Pat said. “And the only way to break free from the hold she has on your soul is to make the death that follows you count.”
“And how is he supposed to do that?” Dick demanded to know.
“Simple. By makin’ sure that those monsters she created die by his hand.”
Dick laughed without humor behind it. “Are you out of your mind? I’ve seen the size and strength of those creatures. Hell, Billy and I both have...and you want us to believe he can kill those and it’ll be ‘simple’?”
“Yes,” Pat replied with a calm to his voice and demeanor I didn’t understand.
“Have you looked at him?” Brewer said.
“Thanks, Dick,” I said dryly.
“No offense, it’s just...you’re not the biggest of men and those things are enormous.”
“None taken, I think,” I said. “They can be killed with guns, I’m guessin’, and I’m the best shot of any of us.”
Pat grinned. “Exactly. They can be killed with bullets made with silver. So you see, Mr. Brewer, Billy is not helpless.”
“I didn’t say he was, it’s just...damn it all to hell, he’s just a kid!”
“I am not,” I said. “I might be ten years younger than you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fight for my life.”
“For your soul,” Dick corrected.
“They are one in the same,” I said.
Dick turned to me, his blue eyes darker than usual, and his face grave. “No, Billy. No, they’re not.”
A chill ran up my spine in a way that unnerved even me. Taking a settling breath, I brushed it off and steadied my gaze back at them. “Then I guess I better not die,” I said, and walked out of the room.
I heard Dick call out to me, but I was too busy pretending to ignore him to turn around. Instead, I kept on walking to wherever my legs would take me. Anywhere but there.
Next morning, having had time away from it all to ponder, I headed back to the McSween home and headed straight to the west kitchen for coffee.
“About time you showed up,” Dick said to me as I walked into the kitchen. Filling his mug with coffee, he continued. “Fred’s been waitin’ on you to go over to Martinez’s place so the three of you can go serve them warrants to Brady at the Dolan Store.”
“That’s why I’m here.” I took my hat off, set it on the table, and stepped over to the stove. Ladling some coffee into a mug, I grinned and said, “Well, that and coffee.” I blew on the hot beverage and made my way to a small table and leaned against the wall. “I’m surprised you don’t see all this as a bit pointless now.”
Dick sat at the small table and drank some of his coffee before saying, “Why would you say that?”
“Really? You were awfully sure we was bein’ told the truth last night. If what we were told last night is true, why would we care about bringin’ Brady or Dolan in for John’s murder? If we believe Pat’s story, this goes way beyond what we thought we knew.”
Dick looked at the other chair and back at me. I took the hint and sat down.
His voice low, he said, “Keep it down, okay? Not everyone can be knowin’ about the...the situation.”
“The ‘situation’?” I said with a laugh. “You mean about the supposed werewolves takin’ over our town who are led by my childhood teacher?”
Dick stood up and closed the door that led to the rest of the house. “When you put it like that, it does sound ridiculous.”
“Because it is ridiculous! Who says Garner—”
“Garrett,” Dick corrected.
“Whatever...who says that boy from Alabama isn’t yankin’ our chain, or worse, pullin’ us into somethin’ he wants to believe is true.”
Dick picked up his mug. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s mentally ill...maybe he needs justification for this Regulator thing he’s been tryin’ to do. Hell if I know. But really, tell me now, do you seriously believe that I’m some cursed being chosen by the leader of the Underworld—”
“Otherworld,” Dick corrected again. “Dark realm of the Otherworld.”
I stood. “Do you hear yourself?! Jeez-oh-petes, Dick...he’s a loony. Simple as that.”
Dick motioned for me to keep my voice down, then said, “And if he’s not?”
“If he’s not...then like I said, don’t we have bigger problems than servin’ some warrants on Brady and Dolan?”
Dick paused and began to pace the room, scratching at his goatee while he thought. After a moment or two, he said, “Fine. We ask for more proof. I’m sure he can provide it.”
“Damn right.” I drank down a good portion of my coffee.
“So until he does, we proceed with the plan we had. Deal?”
“Deal. As long as you’re the one to tell him we need that proof. I have no interest in talkin’ further with Garner on anything.” Dick opened his mouth to correct me, and I gave him a look that shut him up. “Garrett, Garner, whatever. Hell, either one of those or both could be lies. Find out more and we’ll talk ab
out this later tonight. Right now, I have a dirty sheriff to go arrest.”
I downed the rest of my drink, put my hat back on, and walked out into the patio area of the U-shaped home before realizing that Fred was likely inside. By happy accident, he saw me and stepped out from the east wing of the McSween house.
“There you are,” Fred said. “We need to get movin’. Martinez is expectin’ us anytime now.”
“Let me get my Winchester, and we’ll head on over.”
Fred nodded, we fetched our rifles, and made our way over to Martinez’s place.
“I’m gonna swear ya both in as deputies so ya have authority to help me do this today,” he said, handing each of us a silver star to attach to our chests. “Just remember, no shootin’ at anyone unless they shoot at us first.”
I gave Fred a look that said I’d be damned if I let any of them sons of bitches shoot at me first, but I kept my mouth shut, and we headed down to the Dolan Store. There was no sign of all I’d seen there night before last, but there were a bunch of military outside standing at attention.
“What the hell?” Fred started to say.
I recognized the man in charge as Lieutenant C.M. DeLany from Fort Stanton, and approached him. “Lieutenant, what is goin’ on here?”
“Sheriff Brady noticed a mob of folks gatherin’ at McSween’s the past two nights, so he felt he was in danger and called on us to assist in protectin’ the office of the law here.”
I snorted a laugh. “The law. That’s funny.”
DeLany appeared confused, but before I could clarify, Martinez stepped up with warrants in hand. “Lieutenant.”
“Constable,” Delany replied.
“I have warrants here for the men who killed John Tunstall and for Sheriff Brady as well. You’ll see the paperwork is in order.”
DeLany held eye contact with Martinez for an extra beat before taking the documents. Looking them over, he nodded. “That they are. You can proceed to serve them inside but keep it civil.”
“Yes, sir,” Martinez said, taking the documents back. “Boys, with me.”
Fred and I nodded at him and at DeLany before heading into the bottom level of the Dolan Store. There we found Brady waiting on us, backed by members of the posse that killed John, as well as more military from Fort Stanton.
Without so much as a gun pulled or a word said, all the military inside pulled their rifles and pointed them at us.
“Well, shit,” Fred said.
“Hand over your weapons,” Brady said.
“The hell I will,” I replied.
Martinez stepped forward and handed Brady the warrants. “We are here to deliver these warrants for the arrest of some of your men here, as well as you yourself, Sheriff.”
“Excuse me?” Brady said.
“Larceny,” Martinez explained, his voice cracking a bit as he did.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Brady began to say.
“No sir,” I told him. “You fed the horses of these military from the hay in John’s store. That’s not your property. Nor does it belong to the state. That’s larceny...sir.”
The static silence that followed weighed heavy on everyone, and tensions rose, soldiers resituated their guns on their shoulder, and my free hand dropped to linger near my revolver.
“He’s not wrong,” Martinez said. “You had no right to take that hay for the military. McSween has filed a charge of larceny against you for it. With concern to those who hunted down Mr. Tunstall and murdered him, we have multiple accounts on that. We’re, at least, placing them under arrest at this time.”
“The hell you is!” Frank Baker said from the back of the room. “We didn’t kill nobody.”
“I was there; I beg to differ,” I said, placing my hand on my gun.
“Everyone, stay calm,” Martinez said, feeling the anger in the room become palpable.
Brady shoved the warrants into his pants pocket. “No one is bein’ arrested today, Constable Martinez...except you three.”
“Excuse me?” Fred said. “We are here with legal warrants and badges. You have no valid reason to arrest us.”
“Don’t need one. I have the gun power.”
The rest of the men in the room pulled guns, and I pulled mine from my belt faster than they’d expected and had it cocked and ready to fire.
“Who wants to meet their maker first?” I asked.
“Billy, it’s twenty-somethin’ to three,” Martinez said. “Hand over your guns.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Do as he says,” Fred instructed me as he handed over his rifle to Brady.
My finger rested on the trigger of my gun as I made the decision that I didn’t want to get my friend killed. I eased the hammer back, popped the cylinder out, and let the bullets fall. One by one they clattered onto the wooden floor, the sound consuming the room. Holstering my empty revolver, I handed my rifle over to Brady. “My revolver stays with me.”
“Fine by me. Boys, shackle ‘em,” Brady said.
“What?” Martinez exclaimed as multiple men approached us, pinning us against the wall.
Grabbing our hands, the men placed shackles on our wrists and turned to Brady for further instruction.
“We’ll march ‘em down the street to the jail hold,” he said.
Martinez was flabbergasted and furious, rambling on that he was a Constable and Brady had no right to arrest him. I quickly noted there was no mention of Fred or me in that statement and looked to my buddy with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head at me, telling me not to do anything stupid, and I decided, for some reason, to listen to his advice.
“Why you doin’ this?” I heard someone ask Brady.
“Because I can. Because I have the power to.”
“It’ll also send a message to anyone in town what happens if you try to hold the law accountable,” Fred said.
Brady grinned but only said, “Take ‘em outta here!”
With guns at our backs, the three of us exited the Dolan Store. Lieutenant DeLany was obviously confused at the sight but said nothing, just watched us get paraded by without so much as a word.
“This is downright embarrassin’,” I said to Fred as we marched through town in front of everyone.
The farther we went, the more folks came out of their houses to watch us go by.
I felt my face grow red in anger. “Mark my words, Brady will pay for this.”
“Yes, he will,” Fred said.
We reached the pit cárcel, a two-room hole in the ground where prisoners were held, and two men lifted the heavy trap door that covered it. Dropping a ladder into place, they told us to head on down. As Fred and Martinez went down, I noticed that the other room, only separated from ours with a low, dirt wall, held two men in it.
When it was my turn, I stepped to the ladder and hesitated. The barrel of a gun was placed at my temple, and I turned to Brady and smiled. “This ain’t over.”
Not waiting for a reply, I headed down the ladder into the pit and leaned against the wall, watching the men as they pulled up the ladder and dropped the door to close us in, plunging us all into darkness.
“So...now what?” I asked.
“Now we wait,” Fred said.
“I hate waiting.”
3
A Furry Cellmate
Hours passed in the dark. I slept for a bit but woke up when someone opened the hatch. It was Brady, there to free Martinez but not Fred or me. I cursed him out good, but he still left us there. I fell asleep again. This time though, I woke up to moaning, and not the good kind.
“You all right, Fred?”
“It isn’t me.”
Raising my voice, I shouted to the two other men in the room next to us. “You two all right?”
“No. My friend is...well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told ya,” a young, yet strong voice said.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve heard some crazy shit in my time, so I might,” I replied.
“Full moon was only a few day
s ago,” a different voice said in the dark, one that sounded in pain, and I assumed it was the man who had been moaning a few moments ago.
“And?” Fred prompted.
“And the moon is barely waning and rises soon,” the strained voice explained.
“It’s pitch black in here with no view of the outside. How the hell can you tell the moon is close to rising?” I asked.
“I can see in here well enough,” he grunted. “And I can feel the moon.”
“You need to hold it in, Jacob,” the other man said. “Please. Think how you’ll feel if you wake up and we’re all dead.”
This got my attention. “Excuse me?”
“Not sure how I’d feel,” Jacob said, his voice low and gravely. “The more it happens, the less I seem to care. It gets easier.”
I felt my senses become heightened, and I caught the smell of wet dog. Standing up, I shouted, “Is there a way over to you from here?”
“Only up and over,” the man not in pain told me.
The wall was low, but I couldn’t feel the top of it. “Fred, boost me up.”
“Why?”
“Gonna make sure that man is all right, okay? Now give me a hand.”
With a sigh, Fred found me in the dark, cupped his hands, and helped me get my foot situated into them.
“One, two, three!”
I pushed off the ground as he lifted, and my hands found the top of the wall. Pulling myself up to my waist, I swung a leg up and lay across the top of the wall.
“What are your names?”
“Timothy,” the one man said. “My friend here is Jacob...and he’s not in his right mind.”
“Okay, Timothy...tell me, ya got a weapon on you?”
“Of course not. They threw us down here just like you, without a damn thing.”
I grinned even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “What are you two in here for?”
“Disturbin’ the peace. Jacob here, however, is also charged with attempted murder.”
“That’s not good,” Fred said somewhere in the darkness.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Timothy said. “He just—”
The Curse of Billy the Kid: Untold Legends Volume One Page 3
