The Lindsay’s and Mr. Stewart had explained their frantic escape to the cave yesterday.
Stewart said, “Me and the boys were working outside yesterday morning, sorting the veined rock into the wagon. That’s when we saw the … monsters coming down the hill from the cliff. At first, we hardly knew what we was looking at. One second, there were two big—and I mean big—slimy-looking, red-eyed critters running down the path toward us and next thing you know they seemed to disappear like a… what d’ya call it? A mirage.
“Young Carl grabbed his shotgun and made to shoot but, quick as a wink, one of those things tore into him! Me and Timmy just sorta stood there like fools but then the creatures stopped and ran away through the cut.”
He sighed and rubbed his hands over his lined, whiskered cheeks. “We knew we had to get outta there to safety and let the Lindsay’s know what was happening so we took off running up the hill. I swear, I thought those things would be back any second!
“We managed to make it back to the house, just in time. Once inside, we started packing up what we could of water and supplies. We was going to head into town but the creatures came again. Mr. Lindsay thought me and Timmy was loco but then he saw for himself!”
Jacob bowed his head. “To my shame, Mr. Stewart is correct, Matthew. Sometimes, once a crew gets tuckered, they will come up with any excuse—no matter how crazy—to get out of work. I admit to being doubtful and only cooperated because of what happened to Chance. Also, the men were so frightened… no one can fake that kind of fear.”
Stewart took a small pull off his flask and continued his story. “The monsters came back and hovered in the trees with their big red eyes staring at us. I really thought we were goners but then a pack of wolves came tearing through the yard and chased them off. We knew we had to turn back toward the cave because that pack was fighting right out on the road!”
Matthew said, “It was a good thing you did. My son was attacked by these same creatures, as were Private Trevance’s men at the Army outpost. Chance got knocked around some but the one thing he came away with is that he thinks these monsters are put off by silver. And this cave is filled with it.”
Jacob took up Stewart’s tale. “We all came back down here and that’s when we found the dead oxen. We figured then that the creatures came back here before they traveled up to the house. I’ve never been so happy to see a pack of hungry wolves. Anyway, we set up here and waited for the monsters to come back. Although I forbade it, young Timmy snuck out the first night and we could all hear his screams as he was took down…” Tears moistened the man’s eyes as he uttered the sad words.
Matthew nodded. “I am sorry about your men, Jacob. These things we’re dealing with… well, I don’t think any of us know quite what to do. You know they keep coming back to see if we’ve ventured outside and, if we’re not careful, we’ll get caught. Still, I would be surprised if Chance isn’t trying to save us as we speak. It’s been more than a day and half so he will wonder why we’re not back home.”
“But,” Jacob cried, “what if he gets caught? Those things are swift and horrible!”
Matthew sighed. “I am sure my son will be prepared and, hopefully, bring reinforcements.”
He looked out at the water again. “How long has it been now… a half an hour since the monsters were here?”
Jacob nodded. “About that, yes. Why?”
“I’m going out to get water…” he started to say but Jacob interrupted him.
“Matthew, no, you mustn’t! I think that the monsters are just lurking out of sight waiting for us to step outside!”
“That cart…it’s filled with ore, right?” Matthew’s eyes gleamed with speculation.
“Yah, but…”
“I am sure I can run to the shoreline with two buckets and stay safe as long as I’m close to the ore.”
“But they could catch you first! It’s fifty yards, at least.” Jacob was wringing his hands together with anxiety.
Matthew gazed into his friend’s eyes. “Jacob, I can run fast if I need to. Please don’t worry. If I see them anywhere close, I won’t even try it.”
Hannah’s father shook his head. “Chance will never forgive me if you are killed by the beasts,” he muttered.
Stewart, who was not a bad man but seemed more interested in additional water than Matthew’s safety, had already fetched two buckets and handed them over. “What can I do to help?”
Matthew took the buckets. “You can stay close to the mouth of the cave and watch. If I am overcome, you skedaddle back to the family and prepare to keep them safe until help arrives. Can you do that?”
The little man nodded. “Yes, I will. Meanwhile, if you are able to fetch us back some water, we’ll be in better shape to hold off the beasts than if we die from thirst.”
Matthew faced forward and walked slowly toward the mouth of the cave. It was hard to see into the glaring sunlight but he knew that Stewart was right. They needed water badly and it was worth one man’s risk to save the entire family. Still, his heart pounded loudly in his ears as he faced the possibility of his own demise.
He stood at the mouth of the cave, looking right and left. He saw the ore cart with the dead and stinking oxen still stuck in the traces and thought, Well, here goes nothing. Then he ran as fast as he could toward the cart and the beach beyond.
Instantly, he heard an unearthly screech followed by another. As Jacob predicted, the beasts were hiding just out of sight of the people in the cave and had spotted his mad dash to the water. He felt rather than heard the monsters’ footsteps behind him and he put on a burst of speed. Something grabbed at his head but he ducked and half-fell, half-skidded under the ore cart.
Expecting at any second to be disemboweled or decapitated, Matthew hunched under the wagon slats shivering with fear. He saw the creatures’ huge slimy feet walking around the ore-filled cart and heard them mutter and growl with frustration, realizing then that his assumptions were correct; that there was apparently enough silver in the ore to act as a deterrent.
Unfortunately, although the water was only a few yards away, there was no way Matthew could get to it. Not unless he wanted to commit suicide and then who would take the buckets back to his fellow captives?
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he stared out at the monsters’ horrific limbs and wondered what on earth they were and how they had come to be here in the North Idaho woods. He had heard plenty of ghost stories growing up and been told of Indian myths that were frightful enough to set your hair on end. But, until now, he had never believed any of the stories.
Just then he heard a shout. Staring out from under the cart, Matthew whispered, “No, Mr. Stewart… don’t do it!”
But the little man stood outside of the cave, jumping up and down and waving his arms to gain the monsters’ attention. Sadly, it worked.
As Matthew watched in horror, the creatures leapt toward the man who stood a little too far away from the cave’s entrance; Stewart also saw his peril but it was too late. He spun on his heel to dash back inside but the larger of the two beasts was already upon him and he was torn in two as the beasts used his body like a tug-a-rope.
The man howled with anguish as each monster took his share of the body and ran in opposite directions. Matthew retched in despair. But knowing this was the only opportunity he would have to honor Stewart’s sacrifice, he crawled out from under the ore cart, filled the two buckets with water, and ran as fast as he could back to the cave and its terrorized and weeping inhabitants.
Chapter Eighteen
Fearful but Determined
The noon train sat puffing and wheezing at the Granville Station as Chance and his posse loaded their horses and gear on an open yet fenced railcar toward the back. Many of the passengers on board watched with interest.
Seeing a fully-armed posse on the move was rare these days, although many an old-timer remembered when armed posses were a common sight. Noticing the lawmen’s tense facial expressions, a couple of t
he passengers frowned and studied the newspapers in their hands, trying to figure out what kind of trouble was brewing in the area.
The ride into Spokane would only take about an hour so the men elected to stand next to their horses rather than sit inside the passenger cars. Easier to disembark in a hurry, they thought, not to mention the fact that their heavily burdened mounts were carrying a fortune in live, silver ammunition.
The conductor blew his whistle and the train pulled slowly out of town. Chance stared out over the fields, valleys and low hills as the train picked up speed. His heart was heavy. Maybe he and the men were too late; it could be that his father had already met his end while his son whiled away at home like a hurt and fretful baby.
“You can’t let your emotions get in the way on a mission like this, Chance.”
He looked to his right and saw Sheriff Roy Smithers standing by his side. Roy was his pa’s best friend and had been like a second father to Chance for as long as he could remember.
Nodding, he murmured, “Yes, sir, I know. I’m just scared that Pa… that he might be, you know.”
“Yes, son, I know. But also knowing your pa, he’s giving those sumbitches a hard time and just waiting for us to give him a hand.” The old man shook his head with a rueful grin. “At any rate, you are the posse leader right now and pulling a long face ain’t going to help these men stay steady.”
Realizing the sheriff was right, Chance took a breath and stood up straight. “Yes, sir.”
Putting one boot up on the side-rails and lighting a cheroot, Roy asked, “So what’s your plan?”
Chance replied, “We light out just as soon as we hit the station. I know there is a small Army outpost about three miles out of town so I propose we go there and see if we can enlist some gun hands. If so, great. But if they put up an argument, we’ll just move on. I have the feeling that time is of the essence.”
“Sounds good, Chance. Try not to worry…we’ll fetch your old man home,” Roy said as he walked over to where his deputies stood next to their horses.
Chance turned again to face the landscape whizzing by and marveled at how much the area had grown since he was a sprout. He could remember when only one or two homesteads dotted the region. Now, especially getting closer to the big town of Spokane, roads, ranches, small towns and outposts were growing like mushrooms in the green fertile valleys.
He could see the main road that led from Granville to Spokane from his perch on the train car and saw it was busy with traffic. Automobiles and wagons moved up and down the road as well as people, both on foot and riding those strange, newfangled one and two-wheeled bicycles.
Then his eyes spotted a familiar sight and he cursed under his breath. “Goddammit, Hannah!” he murmured.
Dick McNulty exclaimed, “Hey, Chance! Isn’t that your wife? I thought you t-told her she couldn’t come along.”
“I did!”
“Well,” Roy drawled. “So much for that, son, unless you mean to hog-tie her in Spokane.”
The men in the posse stifled their laughter at the look of dismay on Chance’s face and shook their heads in silence. Young girls these days were a lot harder to handle than they used to be, that was for sure, and not one of the men envied Chance the scene to come.
“She is a helluva shot, Chance,” Abner said and blushed at the look he received in reply.
“Oh well, nothing you can do about it until we get to Spokane,” Roy muttered. “Might as well use the next few miles to cool off before you see her.”
“Yeah, unless she just keeps on driving into Idaho,” Chance said.
Roy frowned. “I know Hannah is headstrong but she doesn’t strike me as stupid.”
Chance grimaced. “Nah, she isn’t dumb but she is stubborn as a mule.”
Grinning, Roy answered, “Guess you two make a fine pair then.”
The train whistle hooted and the locomotive started slowing down. The city of Spokane was still about ten miles off in the distance but Chance knew there were two platforms between here and the downtown terminal. The stops added about fifteen minutes to the trip and Chance had actually thought about disembarking at this first platform but now he knew they were doomed to try to head his wife off downtown.
Gritting his teeth, he waited patiently as three passengers got off and four more boarded. Then, with a grunt and a gust of steam, the train made its way down the tracks. One more wait; this time delayed by a single horse which seemed too spooked by their own mounts to want to load up but, finally, the train made its way to the central terminal.
Chance saw Hannah before she saw him and all of his angry admonishments died on his tongue. She was standing on the platform in men’s pants and one of her favorite old jackets. Her long, glossy black hair was tucked up under an old slouch hat and she carried her father’s Sharps rifle in one hand and two pistols on her gun belt.
She caught his eye and squared her shoulders against his displeasure but Chance was hard put to be angry with her for going against his orders to stay home and out of danger. After all, her family was in peril and he - plus every man in this posse - knew that she was one of the best shots in the county, if not the whole state of Washington.
Although Chance feared for her safety and wanted more than anything to shield his new wife from harm, right now they could use the extra gun. Besides, he figured he couldn’t stop her from riding along even if he tried.
The train came to a stop and the posse disembarked. Walking up to Hannah, Chance shook his head slightly and said, “Thought I told you to stay home…”
She studied his face, her eyes as bright and blue as the little creek behind their small home at the Imes’ ranch. Her gaze was not defiant but it was hot with determination. “I’m sorry, Chance, but this is my family and my new father-in-law who are in trouble. You need me and you can’t make me sit at home and do nothing while they’re in danger.”
He nodded and said, “Okay, wife. But remember, I’m in charge of this posse. If I tell you to do something, I mean for you to obey me without question…just as these men will. Is that understood?”
Hannah nodded solemnly and walked over to where her rented horse was tied to a pole. Mounting up, she twitched the reins and followed the rest of the posse as they made their way down the busy streets north toward Idaho and, hopefully, her family.
*
A brisk trot brought them to the Army outpost by 1:40. Although they called out and pounded on the door of the small cabin that supposedly housed the soldiers, the small fort seemed to be abandoned. Disappointed but not particularly surprised, Chance remounted and yelled, “We’re heading out!”
Once they were back on the road, Chance pulled up his horse and spoke to his posse.
“As most of you know, it’s about five miles to Hannah’s family home. I need you all to stay sharp, starting right now. I was attacked about a mile away from here. It was dark then and I am hoping that the creatures we’re seeking do their work after sundown. But there are no guarantees what they will or won’t do.”
He studied his brother’s still skeptical face and continued. “I will describe these monsters one more time before we head out, okay? They are tall…as tall as these trees. They are also huge but only when seen from the front or back; once they turn sideways, they will all but disappear.
“Their skin is slimy and rotten so you will certainly smell them. But it’s the eyes that are most notable. They are huge and red…” he faltered in his recollection for a moment and added, “and sometimes green. At any rate, they will light up the forest when and if they show up.”
Looking at each posse member, Chance said, “I’m not sure, but I think you should try and avoid looking them in the eye, if you can. I think they can play tricks on you… hypnotize you if they catch your gaze.”
Finally, he said, “We should try to be as quiet as possible over the next few miles. I don’t want to draw their attention if we can help it.” Looking down for a moment, he added, “I want to thank each and
every one of you for coming with me today. I know that some of you think I’m crazy but just bear with me, okay? Whether we’re dealing with monsters or just bad men dressed up like monsters, I’m here to tell you they are deadly dangerous.
“You know as well as I do that we’re going to have to get pretty close to stop them with these silver bullets but, if you can do damage from a distance, by all means do so.”
He smiled at them briefly then turned his horse and quietly called out, “Heeyah!”
The posse whispered in reply, “Heeyah.”
Chapter Nineteen
To Save the Day
Thanks to Mr. Stewart’s ultimate sacrifice, Matthew made it back to the cave. As he ran inside, the big man slipped and almost fell due to the puddle of blood and gore that soaked the ground. He barely managed to place the buckets of water on the ground before he staggered to his right and vomited next to a stone wall.
His were dry heaves, though, for he was as empty as an old dried gourd, and he shuddered with horror and leftover nerves as he retched. Finally, he felt a gentle tap on his back and heard Jacob say, “Here, Matthew, drink some water.”
Matthew wiped his mouth and turned around to face his friend. “Did you see it?” he rasped.
“Nay,” Jacob replied. “I guess Mr. Stewart was killed? All we saw were shadows but we heard the screams.”
Matthew took the water and, after taking a careful sip, drained the entire cup. Jacob offered another draught of the blessed moisture but he shook his head. “No, thanks. We have to dole this out between us.”
Jacob shrugged. “You take it, Matthew. You sacrificed to bring this to us and you need to keep up your strength to help us fight.”
Studying the water for a moment, Matthew acquiesced. He took his time, swallowing slowly, savoring the life-sustaining liquid. Then he turned and walked deeper into the cavern where the rest of the party sat watching him.
Private Trevance stood in front of Jacob’s wife and children, his rifle at the ready and his dark face ashy with stress and fear; the youngsters were staring at him with hollow eyes and Marta was weeping steadily but silently. She had not known her husband’s new hires well but somehow felt responsible for their deaths, as though she and her family had inadvertently invited the devil to call and offered up the three men as sacrificial lambs.
Heart of Ice (Deadman Series Book 6) Page 10
