Jessie tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. Kaga pressed against Grace as she spoke and nuzzled her leg.
“Then he drags me outside. I think he means to feed me a bullet, but once we get outside he drops me and I fall to my knees. I’m kneeling in Pa’s blood and it’s seeping through my dress. I look up at him, the Darksome Gunman, and he’s looking down at me. ‘That’s death you saw in there. Don’t forget it, Grace, and when the time is right, you come and find me and we’ll talk some more.’ His words light some kind of fire in my guts, and even though I know it might make me eat a bullet, I say to him, ‘When I come for you, I ain’t gonna talk—I’m gonna beef you dead.’ And instead of cutting me down or thrashing me, he just laughs this black laugh and says, ‘Right smart, small fry. Right smart.’ Then he strikes off through the dirt and strolls over to the hitching post. We ain’t been able to afford a nag, but there’s a horse fixed there, and I know it’s his. Ain’t never seen a horse like it before. Pale, like curdled milk, and flicking her tail like a fierce temper is upon her. He strolls up to her and pats her neck. He turns back to me and says, ‘I’m not hard, you know. I’m gonna leave you a gift. And if you don’t want her when you come to find me, leave her here for crow bait.’ Then he smiles and walks off. We live a goodly distance from the nearest town, so I don’t know where he’s planning on going afoot. But he goes.”
Grace fell silent, still staring off into space.
Jessie looked over at Grace’s mare. “Crowbait. That’s where you got her?”
Grace turned to Jessie as though seeing him for the first time since she took up her tale. She grunted and stood up and her gaze fell on the horse. “At first I thought about laying her out with Pa’s Winchester. I didn’t want no gift from the likes of him. But I needed to get into town after burying them. So I took her, fully intending to sell her. But somehow, the ornery cuss is still with me.”
Jessie shook his head. “So, this Darksome Gunman, he’s the reason you’re out hunting?”
Grace didn’t answer.
“But you said you saw a demon when you were eleven. How do you know he was a demon and not just some longrider?” Jessie asked.
A terrible smile came to Grace’s lips that made her look aged and gruesome. “Because when he looked down at me over Ma’s dead body, I saw his eyes. And they weren’t brown or blue or green. They were blazing like the new morning sun. They were demon eyes.”
Jessie swallowed. He remembered how Ina’s fierce red eyes had shaken him to the core, and he could only imagine how eleven-year-old Grace had felt, seeing eyes like that on the man who had just butchered her family. He was amazed that she hadn’t gone to pieces and wound up in one of those lunatic asylums.
“You said the Ba’cho ponied up skinny. On him. The Darksome Gunman.”
Grace nodded. She retrieved her vest from Crowbait and slipped it on. “Most of what I’ve learned over the years has been rumor and yarn. Most of the time I get to a town and hear the molls say a man breezed through two days prior fitting his description. But I gotta try each lead I get. Well, this time I got a fine lead. A one-horse town some miles away, name of Sandycrag Creek. Darksome Gunman’s been seen in them parts.”
Jessie frowned. “Why’s that such a bully lead?”
Grace smiled but there was no warmth in it. “’Cause they got a problem with their bone-yard that makes me think a demon’s rife around there.”
“What’s the problem with their dead?” Jessie asked.
“They don’t stay dead,” Grace said evenly. She smirked at Jessie’s horrified expression and turned back to Crowbait. “I’m gonna go take a necessary, then we gotta get moving. Be ready to cut out.”
Grace wandered off with a battered copy of the Farmer’s Almanac tucked under her arm. Kaga turned and set his yellow eyes on Jessie.
“What do you make of all this? Surprised you let her follow this cockamamie notion of finding this Gunman dude. Sounds right dangerous if you ask me.”
Kaga lowered his head to his paws and continued to watch Jessie until the lad felt unsettled enough to turn away. His cut hand throbbed, and he peeked under the dirty cloth to see if he’d reopened the wound. He lowered his head and looked at the forgotten notebook in his hands. He licked the tip of the pencil and scratched in the book.
Good. Evil. Men. Demons. Reality. Dream. What’s what anymore? I sure as Hellfire don’t know.
Jessie’s chicken-scrawl handwriting smudged, and as he wiped the smudge away, he left a smear of blood on the parchment. He frowned as his blood blotted out the word ‘good’. He was left looking at the words ‘evil men’. He studied those words until Grace returned and they bugged out.
CHAPTER NINE
Grace had said they were heading to a one-horse town. That wasn’t quite accurate. Sandycrag Creek struck Jessie as a no-horse town.
Paul trotted down the hard-packed, dusty road beside Crowbait and snorted. The gelding shook his head and chomped on his bit. Jessie frowned and patted Paul reassuringly. Not that he felt assured. Sandycrag Creek was eerie. Eerily quiet, eerily dark. Just...eerie. It didn’t help that it was approaching dusk as they cantered into town. Jessie felt sure the place wouldn’t have seemed so haunted in full daylight. He lifted the brim of Isom’s hat and rubbed his sweat-covered brow. The longrider’s stolen Colt pressed against his abdomen and he was glad of its uncomfortable weight.
For her part, Grace was as cool as a sharp with a sleeve full of aces. Her leather duster was pushed back so she had quick access to Justice and Mercy. Strapped to Crowbait’s left side was her cavalry saber, and on the other side, her holstered Winchester. She chirked at Crowbait to keep the ashen mare moving, and her eyes roved from side to side, never still, always alert. Kaga padded along beside them, his hackles raised, and lips pulled back in a snarl. Jessie didn’t take a lot of comfort in the realization it wasn’t just him and Paul who were rattled.
Sandycrag Creek was little more than half a dozen buildings with a dirt road running through the middle. Jessie peered at the gloomy buildings that stared back at him with dark glass eyes. A faded sign above one shopfront declared ‘Blacksmith’ and another said ‘General Store’. A little farther down was the town saloon, simply named ‘Saloon’. There were no lanterns inside any of the buildings and no lit streetlamps or torches. Jessie’s scalp tightened as his gaze darted between the buildings; he was sure they were being watched.
“Where is everyone?”
Grace didn’t respond, but her jaw was taut, and her lips thinned as she focused on something just ahead. Jessie followed her gaze and his fingers tightened on the reins. A white-washed church with a crooked crucifix sat slightly above the dirt road on a small hillock and cast a long shadow over the little courtyard garden beside it. Lying outside the church, face down on the hard-packed earth, was a body. Grace chirked at Crowbait and trotted up the path to the church, Paul tottering a few steps behind.
Instead of bounding ahead to snuffle and snort, Kaga stayed beside the riders and eyed the surrounding buildings. As Grace and Jessie slid from their saddles, a warning growl from Kaga made them both stop. The wolf faced the church as the deep rumble emanated from his chest. Grace hunkered down beside him and put a reassuring arm around him.
“What is it? What do you reckon?”
Kaga continued to growl as he glared at the church. Jessie’s sweat-slick fingers fumbled with the Colt as he drew it from his waistband. Grace frowned at him. “Put that away before you jimmy your own foot off.”
Jessie frowned but didn’t put away the Colt. Grace’s hands didn’t stray far from her irons. She shook her head, then strode toward the church. Jessie swallowed and crept behind her. As they closed the distance, Jessie was drawn to the body lying on a dark patch of earth. He gulped as he realized the dark patch was a puddle of soaked-up blood. He hesitated and gripped the Colt. Grace continued until she was next to the body. She squatted beside it and withdrew Justice. She nudged the body with the barrel, and when it didn
’t react, she reached out and rolled it over. Even from a distance, Jessie saw the body had been badly mutilated. His stomach roiled at the gruesome sight and he quickly looked away.
“Looks like he was mauled!” Jessie called out when he trusted himself to speak. He swallowed his bile and took a few steps closer to peer over Grace’s shoulder at the dead man. Half his face had been chewed off, and his throat was a ruin of sinew and exposed muscle. His shirt was ripped open, and something had gnawed through his flesh to his ribcage. One nipple was completely gone, and a good amount of flesh had been stripped from his belly. A string of intestines spilled out the hole like sausage links.
“Not so much mauled as eaten...like a piece of jerked beef,” Grace said as she stood up. She stepped up to the closed double doors of the white-washed church. A dark spray of blood stained the pretty paintwork.
“Eaten? Like by some kind of mountain lion?” Jessie glanced around nervously and nearly dropped the Colt.
“Eaten—by something,” Grace said quietly. She reached out and placed a gloved hand on one of the church doors. She pushed, but something barred the way. She put her shoulder to the door and heaved. Both doors gave way and swung open. Grace was knocked back into Jessie by a wall of fetid stench. The sinking sun outside bathed the church in orange light. The inhabitants stilled against the sudden stab of sunlight and turned to the doorway. Grace and Jessie stared at the score of hunched, squalid figures who looked back with round white eyes. Skin sloughed off their bodies, and their clothing hung like rags. Some were in a more advanced state of decay and had lost limbs. Their bones protruded from blackened, festering stumps. They stopped what they were doing and fixed their milky eyes on Grace and Jessie. One opened a glistening mouth and a chunk of partially chewed meat plopped out and landed on the floor with a splat. The creature’s jaw creaked loose and tumbled to the ground to thunk beside the chewed morsel. The sound seemed to startle the creature, and it unleashed a ragged throat-rending roar from deep within its chest.
“Sakes alive!” Grace breathed and unloaded two bullets into the ghoul’s putrefying face. Its head exploded in a shower of gore, and as it slammed backward, it flipped over a church pew, which squashed another hulking figure. The remaining ghouls roared, their white eyes flaring with feral hatred.
Jessie squeaked in horror, frozen to the spot by the unholy sight before them. Grace slammed her shoulder into Jessie’s chest and cried, “Jessie, cut out!”
As Jessie staggered backward, the ghouls lurched at Grace. She fired into the horde as she backed out of the church. Something grabbed her leg and Grace jerked. The corpse outside the door looked up at her with opaque eyes and opened its mouth. Its tongue lolled out as it clawed her leather pants. Grace sucked in and fired. The thunder of Justice shattered the thing’s skull, and Grace yanked her leg free of its twitching hand. She spun and bounded down the path, shoving Jessie into action. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder and screamed at the sight of movement at the church. The ghouls writhed out the doors, scrambling over one another in their haste to get to the fresh meat.
Grace planted a hand in the small of Jessie’s back and he went flying downhill toward the horses. He skidded across the dirt, slammed into Paul, and spun around as he heard gunfire. Grace, farther up the hill, fired another shot over her shoulder, and one of the ghouls shrieked and stumbled. Its brethren clambered over it without pause as they streamed toward Grace.
The shots from Grace’s equalizers jolted Jessie from his fugue state, and he swung up into the saddle as the horde seethed down the road. They ran in an ungainly, down-on-all-fours fashion that lent them speed and agility. The one in the lead was only a few steps behind Grace when it let loose an inhuman roar. Its legs bunched and it leaped through the air. Grace dropped and rolled to the side. As she came out of her somersault, she swung the cavalry saber and sheared the thing’s head from its neck. The head bounced down the road toward Jessie, its tongue flicking in and out of its mouth like a rattler’s. The move had saved Grace’s life, but now she’d lost all momentum and Crowbait was still four strides away.
A savage roar caught Jessie’s attention, and he spun in time to see Kaga leap into the fray. His snapping teeth and powerful body took out three of the creatures in one fell swoop. Grace lunged and skewered another on the end of her saber. Jessie saw long golden plaits attached to this one’s scalp, and his stomach turned as he finally realized these ghoulish monstrosities were the unfortunate townsfolk of Sandycrag Creek. The Colt, which had been on its way to aim and fire, now hung heavy in his hand. It was one thing to fire on something inhuman like the chupacabras, but it was something entirely different to fire on people.
Paul danced to the side and Jessie forgot his battle with morality as he tried to keep the horse under control. Two of the swarm broke off and jerked toward him, attracted by Paul’s movements. Paul reared and kicked one of them. The ghoul’s skull cracked, and it flew backward. Jessie hugged Paul’s neck as Paul bucked and kicked. The second ghoul hissed at the nag and darted around the deadly hooves. It lunged at Jessie, who jerked sideways to avoid being clawed. The ghoul hissed again and tensed. Jessie screamed and raised the Colt. The butt slipped from his sweaty palm and flew away. Paul reared and Jessie lost his grip. He slammed hard onto the ground. The air whooshed out of him as he lay stunned, staring up at the darkening sky, his ears filled with snarls and screams. Searing pain banded around his chest as he struggled to breathe. The ghoul’s decaying face appeared, and Jessie stared up in horror as its white eyes fixed on him and its trembling lips parted.
Suddenly there was a boom and the ghoul flew through the air and landed a few feet away in a crumpled heap. Jessie struggled to sit up and stared at the undead thing. It didn’t move. Jessie frowned and pressed a hand against his side. He felt like he’d been kicked and suspected one or more of his ribs were busted. He glanced around and saw Paul still bucking as two fiends tried to drag him down. Kaga dived and twisted among his own throng of creatures, and Grace spun with her cavalry saber, shearing limbs and sending blood arcing through the air. Jessie’s heart sank as he realized they were hideously outnumbered.
Another boom cracked the sound barrier, and Jessie saw a ghoul pitch backward with a ragged hole torn in its chest. It struggled to rise but was savaged by Kaga’s fierce jaws. Jessie staggered to his feet and looked for the shooter, each breath causing a knife of agony to stab between his ribs. His gaze fell upon his own discarded Colt and he struggled over to the revolver. He cried out as he stooped to retrieve the gun. He held it for a moment, unsure of what to do. A ghoul reared up at him, teeth gnashing and foul breath emanating from its mouth. Jessie didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger and put a hole the size of a dime in its undead forehead. Jessie’s ribs grated together at the kick of the six-gun, and he dropped to his knees in agony. Cold sweat drenched his brow as acrid bile surged up his throat. After a moment, the pain abated, and his senses returned. He watched another ghoul fall to the unknown boom; its head sheared off by a large caliber bullet. A sudden silence descended on Sandycrag Creek. Blood pounded in Jessie’s ears and he was acutely aware of the thump of his heartbeat and the scrape of Grace’s cavalry blade as she dragged the tip across the ground. He could hear Kaga pant and whine, but he could no longer hear the savage inhuman growls of the undead creatures.
They were all dead. Or at least—deader.
Paul and Crowbait trotted back to the small group, Paul shying at the smell of so much blood. Grace stumbled across to Jessie and dropped to the ground beside him. He was shocked at how pale she was beneath the layers of dirt and blood. Her hat was gone, her hair a tangled mess, and she wore three parallel scratches across her cheek. Kaga strode up beside them and aside from a dripping maw, he looked none the worse for wear. Jessie wheezed and sucked in a sharp breath as Grace prodded his chest and felt his ribs.
“Broken,” she muttered. She looked him in the eye and a grim smile came to her lips. “Could be worse though.”
/> “Right.” Jessie winced. “Could be dead.”
“Oh, it will take a lot more than these to kill Grace Dyer.”
Jessie, Grace, and Kaga started at the strange voice.
Jessie glanced up and watched a tall man stride down the road, a big-fifty buffalo rifle slung across his back. His face was shrouded by the brim of his broad black Stetson, and his elegant attire seemed out of place against the backdrop of the rustic one-horse town. He wore a silk shirt beneath his vest that dithered between cobalt blue and whorehouse purple. Jessie’s attention was drawn to the man’s leather boots. He heard a steady jingle and thump as the man walked and his spurs danced.
Jingle and thump. Jingle and thump.
Jessie’s mouth fell open, and he looked at Grace to confirm his suspicions. She was white except for the dark brown of her narrowed eyes.
“It’s him ain’t it. The Darksome Gunman.”
The cicadas and crickets chirping their night song fell silent.
Now the only sound truly was the jingle and thump of the Darksome Gunman’s approach.
CHAPTER TEN
Grace’s guns were scattered on the dusty road. Her talking-iron was holstered on Crowbait’s saddle, unreachable. But she had the cavalry saber. She lunged to her feet and swung the saber through the air. She would have sliced the Darksome Gunman clean in two had he not taken a quick step backward. Grace grunted and reversed the direction of her swing. She lunged at him in an elegant riposte. The Darksome Gunman moved quicker than any human had a right to move and unslung the big-fifty from his back. He used the iron barrel to counter the cavalry blade, and the shriek of metal on metal filled the air. Grace’s blade slid down the length of the barrel as she leaped backward.
Guns of Perdition Page 6
