Wild Boys: Six Shooters and Fangs

by catt dahman

  They rode north.

  When they stopped for the night, Perry was surprised that they didn't rush in on the men's camp.

  Tell explained, "Couple of reasons. If they suspect we're coming in hard, they'll ride away hard…Might as well let them lead us where ever it is they want us.”

  “I don't know why they should lead us.”

  “They’re settin'the rules,” Tell told him, “and they started this.”

  “Don’t seem right.”

  “Don’t hurt to let them get real confident; then, we'll just ride in and settle this. Hell, mainly those are just inexperienced boys with at least two…well, I guess we’d better explain about the blood suckers.”

  He did, and Perry finally sat back, having laughed his fill, and decided that the men must be pulling his leg although they seemed mighty serious. As he thought it over, he didn’t exactly believe it all, but he didn’t disbelieve either.

  “You act like you can read their minds,” Perry scoffed

  “I ‘spect it's Mrs. Fallon’s life depending on knowing their minds,” Tell said it very calmly.

  “I ain't worried about her life in Tell's hands,” Paris said positively, nodding.

  It was strange to Perry, but he finally crawled into his bedroll where he watched Paris stroking his knife over a whetstone. Paris didn't watch his own hands moving but instead stared into the low-burning fire as he spoke lowly. “I plan to kill every one of them.”

  Tell mused. “These men we're after…they want revenge for Pete Lorrance’s death, but they got it when Quinn died. Didn't noone win that battle; both sides lost. Fools. They’re real fools in pulling this stunt.”

  "They've let it fester in them," Paris said, "and that's somethin' I can understand, and they been listening to the blood suckers’ cocky talk.”

  “But you can handle the creatures?” Perry asked.

  “Mostly. These are newly turned and not as smart, so they are full of themselves, but they aren’t as strong either as older ones. You can use silver to burn them or drag them into sunlight for a long time, cut off their heads and burn the body, and destroy the heart. You just have to do it fast because they will start healing immediately unless you have silver,” Kit said matter-of-factly.

  Quietly, without emotion, Paris told them what he had been through growing up and how he met Doc. He had never gone into such detail, but now he spoke easily, without thought, as if it were just simply the time to tell it with neither pity nor understanding. His voice was low and monotonous which made the story all the more bitter. No one interrupted but listened carefully.

  “I love her.”

  Tell's head shot up. He looked at Kit to see the same look of shock on the other man’s face although Kit had guessed as much. They were surprised he announced it. Tell nodded slightly. "Well, she is your wife.”

  “She just married me to give her baby a name. It's Doc's kid. She and I don't...well, I sleep alone. She don't care anything about me. She don’t know that I love her, and I’d like to keep it that way. There ain't nothin’ between us on her part. I owe Doc, though. I intend to take care of his kid; he’d do the same for me.”

  Tell and Kit exchanged looks, neither sure that Doc would if he had been put into the same situation. Paris talking this way meant he thought he might die in this fight.

  Paris looked over at Perry Creek and asked, “You got your ears full?”

  “Didn't have much choice."

  “Knowing the kind of men you're riding with, you still want to help us go after Frannie?”

  “She’s like a sister to me. I'd just as soon go along."

  Paris said, “Don’t make me no never mind, but if you jump at blood shed, then get on back to the ranch.”

  “I’ll stay,” Perry declared, “I know who my friends are.”

  “You keep all that to yourself, too, you hear?” Tell asked.

  “I will at that,” Perry muttered.

  Chapter 18

  Losses

  Frannie expected to be used by the men, but no one touched her. The Mexican men sometimes leered at her and talked gibberish that she couldn't understand, but no one laid a hand on her.

  They rode slowly so Frannie was able to doze in the saddle. Sometimes she would make up stories of how Paris would rescue her, of how these men would die at his hands, and of how she would not ask him for mercy for them or to spare their lives.

  More and more, all she thought of was Paris, how he looked, things he had said, the way he walked, and his lazy grins. No matter how she had treated him, he had married her. No matter how she had spoken to him or what she did, he was always there for her, and Frannie had no doubt, not even the tiniest bit, that Paris would come for her. She knew he would help her, and her infallible, complete belief in him was a surprise to her. Had she ever trusted and believed in anyone on earth so totally?

  In the evening at a creek, she splashed cold water on her face and then turned to crawl into her freezing bedroll where she would lie shivering all night. Daniel stood in front of her. “Don’t think about running.”

  “Where would I go?" she asked as she looked pointedly around at the dense woods.

  “You’d get lost. Animals or worse would eat you alive. Our friends would love to get a drink of your rich blood.”

  "I'm not going to run. I’ll wait for Paris.”

  “Some men you attract: Fallon and Holliday.”

  “He will come for you.” She narrowed her eyes.

  Daniel grinned with tobacco-stained teeth and fetid breath. “I hope so.”

  “You’ll be sorry you did this.”

  “You sure didn't wait long after Holliday before marrying Fallon, did you?”

  “He'll kill you,” said Frannie as she felt a hopeless rage building inside of her.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Frannie tried to walk around him, but Daniel caught her arm. “Don’t you like my company?”

  "Let me go. You stink.”

  “He’s coming…that much is true…Fallon and the marshal, Kit Darling, and another fellow, and we’ll kill them when they catch up.”

  "Paris could have easily killed you the day you murdered my father."

  “You mean the day my father died,” Daniel added. “Fallon will die slowly.” Daniel laughed and added, “Ain't you a hot one…a regular chili pepper, aren't you? I wonder if you're that hot between your legs?” He roughly reached a hand at her thighs, and she slapped him a stinging pop.

  For several seconds, neither moved, and then he slapped her back across one cheek and then the other cheek with the back of his hand full force. He caught her hair and yanked and slammed a knee into her already sore belly. Frannie felt the air whoosh out of her as she slid to the ground. Daniel jerked her to her feet to plummet her more with one huge shove; he sent her reeling backwards, and luckily, the rock that she hit her head on was smooth.

  Everything went black.

  Awareness returned to her in bits. A pink and orange light was streaking the sky, her body was numb with cold, and she ached everywhere while her head pounded fiercely. She found her wrists and ankles tied, but she couldn't have moved if she had wanted to.

  Jim and Willie McCurry came for her and got her to her feet. They had to help her walk as her vision blurred and nausea hit her full-force. She refused the stale biscuits and water offered her and instead threw up at their feet.

  They got her on the horse but had to tie her on as she began slipping. Frannie felt terrible with a dull ache in her belly that radiated into her back and lower parts. Faintly, she was sorry they had tied her on and wanted more than anything to fall and lie on the ground so she could rest in peace and not have to have her stomach and belly jolted with every footstep of the horse.

  The pretty woman left the group after staring at Frannie with undisguised lust for blood, saying she was hungry, and another woman was there a while, a blonde, and then no women were with them at all.

  By mid-morning, the ache was a pain, an
d her head pounded worse. Coy Willis made her drink from his canteen and applied a poultice to her head that did ease the pain considerably. His face was a mask of concern, and she made a real effort to keep the water down. It made her feel a little better.

  The men, George and Tom, brought back a deer that they ate raw, drinking the blood like nectar. While they savored the bloody goblets, they grinned at Frannie, their razor sharp fangs glittering.

  She heard Coy questioning the men, and they made it sound like Quinn had killed their father in cold-blood, not telling him about the land dispute or coming onto the Masterson property. They blamed terrible things on Paris and made up stories, but Frannie was too weak to protest. When they told terrible things about her, she smiled to herself at the silliness of it all. Jim and Daniel sounded believable, but Frannie thought she saw a little doubt on Coy’s face. He frowned a lot when he found out she was married to Paris.

  “Don’t sound right," Coy said to himself, but the Lorrance boys had paid dearly for him to be their scout. However, he didn't know the men who were tracking them, and he couldn't very well go up against nine men alone, but it bothered him.

  The two men-creatures made his blood run cold every time he looked at them; they were an abomination: things he had never dreamed were possible outside of being demons, but they claimed they were unable to change back to human now and unable to stop their behaviors, claiming to be victims as well, but their eyes spoke a different tale.

  Frannie was sweating, despite the chill, and her legs hurt horribly. They felt chafed. When she drew up her skirt to see, she found them covered with bloody gore. The vampyres would smell it and rip her to shreds.

  The baby. She was losing the baby.

  Anguish filled her heart since the baby was her last connection with Doc. She cared about him and already loved the baby. The loss would hurt Paris, as well.

  She wanted to die since that sounded so pleasant to her. She slept, hoping she'd never awaken. Her head ached worse when she awakened. Someone was yelling about the blood as if it were her fault, saying she was tempting the vampyres. Frannie was annoyed to be alive, and she tried to explain that to the men who were yelling; she couldn’t seem to remember who the men were.

  “What’s wrong?” Jim yelled in her face.

  “The baby…Paris is going to kill you for this,” she said. Something about that was wrong, but she couldn't remember what it was about it that wasn't true.

  Everything was spinning.

  Her horse splashed through water, and it must have covered her as well, she thought because she felt soaked. When she opened her eyes again, she was on a different horse with the black man, and he was holding her up there.

  “I wasn't trying to get away," she protested.

  He said something back, but she didn't hear him.

  "She ain't gonna make it,” Coy told Daniel and Jim. Coy was aware that they were leaving a trail of blood, but they didn't care; he hoped the other men found them soon before the vampyres drained all of them in a blood frenzy. Who could have imagined blood-sucking creatures? He had thrown in with the wrong bunch and wanted nothing more than to be free of them.

  “Don’t matter,” Daniel said as he saw the trail of blood droplets that they were leaving, “Fallon will be comin' on faster now.”

  Not too far back, Tell found the blood but didn't say anything at first. Paris seemed distracted, was dependent on Tell for tracking, and hadn't noticed. Finally, Tell said something, "They’ve got someone hurt.”

  “When did that happen? How?” Kit questioned.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Who is it?”

  Tell said “it was Frannie.”

  “Is she hurt bad? “Paris asked tensely.

  “Pretty bad.” Tell frowned.

  Paris knew the damage a knife could do. “They’ll be thankful when they’re sent to hell,” he vowed. “Hell will be such a relief from what I will do to them.”

  A little while later, Tell announced that she wasn't on her horse but was riding with the tracker.

  “Is she alive?" Paris asked Tell point blank.

  Tell rubbed his mouth. “I need a drink. I’m a mind she is, but it ain't good.”

  “Then it's time to go in, Tell, you and I have the best mounts. We'll circle them and then ride in from the other side while Creek and Kit come in from this side. We’re gonna have to ride hard to circle them while they are moving this fast, but we need to go.”

  "How will we know when to ride in?” Perry Creek wanted to know. He was nervous.

  Tell held up his gun “I’ll fire this.”

  “But they’ll know we're coming in.”

  “They’ll know anyway,” Tell answered. He and Paris rode out at a dead run.

  Kit shifted in his saddled, looking perfectly calm. “If your horse takes a bullet, get out from under it. Kill every man you see, and don’t be merciful, or you might take a bullet for your kindness.” He summed up what he thought to be the best advice.

  “That's it?” Perry asked; he wanted more.

  "Nothing else to tell you, ain't got time for lessons.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Gun fighting?” Kit thought. “Swift…It is swift.”

  Perry was mulling that over as Tell’s gunshot was heard. Like Kit, he spurred his horse into a run. It was very swift, too.

  Coy was beside Frannie, trying to help her when the men rode in like demons up from hell, yelling and guns blazing. Their mounts' hoof beats were like thunder, and there was vengeance in the air. Courtney fell first with Tell’s shotgun blast ripping open his stomach; his stinking, slippery guts dribbled out between his confused fingers.

  Perry and one of the Mexicans traded shots. Both missed their intended targets, and Perry was forced to follow Kit’s advice to get out from under a dying horse. Perry dove behind the animal for cover; it was all happening very fast. He fired at one of the men, and to his shock, the man shook the bullets off like they were nothing; he turned on Perry with a hiss and sharp fangs gleaming. Fear was like an ice-cold dagger in the spine and scalp.

  Easily, Paris dropped one of the Mexican men and then fired at Daniel and missed. He saw Coy beside Frannie. He hesitated, and a bullet slammed into Paris as he paused.

  Kit shot the man who was hissing at Perry, dropping him with a bullet of silver to his head.

  Kit felt bark splintering all around him and was thankful that these men were poor shots. All at once, Kit dropped, rolled, and killed Willie McCurry with one deadly shot.

  Tell got the last Mexican with two shots to the chest then dropped to reload. Paris was on the ground, scrambling for cover, aware that he had to live to be able to help Frannie.

  Daniel, Jim, Cato, Hastings, and Brian Blalock were on their horses when Kit hit Jim. Daniel paused as his brother slid to the ground, dead. Daniel's eyes sought Paris’. Paris enjoyed the fact that the man knew his bullet had done the damage.

  Paris nodded to himself as the men raced away, amid blasts that wounded Blaylock and Hastings. Paris lumbered over to Frannie.

  Coy looked up. “I ain't drawn.”

  “You're heeled.” But Paris didn't pull his gun out. He saw George mount and get away, despite Kit firing at him. The creature was faster now.

  Coy tossed his pistol to one side. “Mister, she’s in a bad way, though. I think the bleedin' is about stopped. I’ve done just about all I know just the bleeding and for her head where she fell.”

  "Is she cut?" Paris saw that she was covered in gore. Paris' eyes were feral. “Mister, she’s losing her baby.”

  Sitting down hard, Paris stared at Coy. "How?”

  “That Daniel, he beat on her, and she hit her head on a rock…one or both of those did it, I guess. Sorry piece of trash, they lied when they hired me on is all I can say for myself, and I apologize for being found in the low company of this white trash.”

  Paris handed Perry his razor-like knife. “Take a good look at her; she lost the baby; you finish him
up. Show him the same mercy they showed her.” He pointed to one of the wounded.

  Perry took the silver tipped knife that Paris handed him, crawled to the vampire, and cut the man’s heart out. The thing seemed to shrivel up before his eyes as it lost any power it had. Perry might never meet another of the creatures, but he had made a kill and was now in an elite companionship with men who had destroyed one.

  Paris looked at Frannie as Perry finished the creature.

  Frannie opened her eyes as Paris stroked her hair. She focused on his face. “I knew you'd come. I told them you would,” her voice was a whisper.

  “Did this man hurt you?" Paris asked of Coy.

  “No, he tried to help me. ”She allowed Coy to dribble water into her mouth. “I’d be dead if not for him. He did his best for me.”

  Somehow, Paris had sensed his good intentions. Coy sat back and said, “She’ll die if we don’t get her to a doctor. Mister, she ain't built for havin' babies to begin with, little bitty thing like her."

  "She can't make it to a doctor,” said Tell as he walked over to study her.

  Coy agreed. “I used to watch my mama deliver children, and sometimes women had difficulties. I can try to help her.”

  Tell looked at Paris. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Paris nodded. “If you save her, I’ll let you live. If she dies, you'll follow her.”

  “Dear God, Paris." Tell breathed.

  Paris' head jerked up. “I’d sell my soul to the devil for her life. You think I have any honor left in me?” He stood and left Coy with those cryptic words, unable to watch without killing someone.

  Tell joined him. "We gonna track those men?"

  "Hell, yeh."

  “I’ll take Perry back with me to the ranch. Joshua will need him, and I'll resign as marshal; then, I'll be back to meet up with you."

  They planned to meet in Bryan's Junction where Paris would take Frannie to recover, if she lived. Perry grumbled about having to go back, but Paris wouldn't be talked out of it.

  Paris had taken the bullet clean through his shoulder; Tell dressed it for him. Then Tell warned his friend not to be talking of selling his soul since there were bloodsuckers around. It was just the kind of bargain those types loved to make.