Hell's Highwaymen

by Phillip Granath

  “Hold up, something is down there, just on the edge of the lake,” he said.

  Danny squinted into the swirling smoke.

  “Some kinda bridge?” he offered.

  Cort raised his spyglass, and the scorched stone structure came into view. If it was a bridge it wasn’t a very long one, just a single stone span jutting out into the fiery lake perhaps a hundred feet.

  “If it’s a bridge it sure as hell doesn’t go anywhere,” he replied.

  The ancient looking bridge ended abruptly, but if it was by design or had simply collapsed he couldn’t say. As Cort watched wave after wave of raging flame rolled up and crashed violently against it. The lake smashed against the stone as if it loathed the bridge’s very existence. The onslaught was enough to make Cort question if the bridge would collapse in front of his very eyes. Just then movement across the tortured stones caught his eye.

  “Well I’ll be damned, somebody is actually walking out on that thing!” he said.

  “What?” Danny asked.

  “A soul you mean?” the priest asked.

  Cort adjusted his spyglass and found the solitary figure again. A moment later a huge fiery wave swept over that section of the bridge. Cort caught his breath, certain he had just watched a man swept into the burning lake, to a fate perhaps worse than death. Then as the wave receded the figure reappeared again, a moment later further down its length.

  “What do you see?” Danny demanded.

  “Not too sure, but there are definitely souls out there,” Cort shrugged.

  “Let’s keep moving, I for one want to get a closer look at that bridge,” Father Callahan declared.

  The troop pushed forward again, and Cort guided them through the rough terrain and back down towards the lake’s edge. They soon crested a small ridge and finally got a clear view of the bridge and the bank from which it departed. A wide area of open and relatively flat ground spread out below them, and it was packed with hundreds, if not thousands of souls. The mass of withered bodies was packed in tightly against one another, eerily quiet and each struggling to take another step forward, towards the lake, and its battered bridge.

  “Well, looks like this is the place,” Oliver said.

  The riders dismounted and found a place where they could crouch among the boulders and watch the souls below. The shriveled bodies pushed forward almost mechanically, only taking a single step at a time. At the front of the group, they watched as the first soul in line stepped forward and walked out onto the ruined bridge, the rest of the crowd waiting their turn it seemed.

  “What are they doing?” Danny asked.

  “Just watch,” Cort hissed.

  The souls shuffled across the narrow stone bridge, and the lake of fire responded. Immediately the waves began to roll and crash against the bridge, eager to reach the souls that now crossed over it. This time, closer to the lake the sound it made was undeniable and eerily human. The waves screamed in pain as they lashed against the stone bridge, sending gouts of fire and smoke cascading high into the air. But as the waves of fire reached for him the soul on the bridge paid it no mind, his eyes set and focused directly ahead.

  The solitary soul finally reached the end of the bridge and now stood before what looked like a pile of broken stones. One stone larger than the rest stood out, a dark slab of granite that to Cort looked oddly like a tombstone. Even from here he could see several lines carved on the piece of stone, written in a strange dark text. The moment stretched out, and Cort felt he was waiting for something important to happen. Then without warning a massive wave struck the end of the bridge and just like that, the soul was gone. Even before the smoke had cleared, another soul stepped forward and started walking down the bridge.

  “It’s not a bridge, it’s a death sentence. May as well put a damn diving board on the end of that thing,” Oliver said shaking his head.

  “No, it is a bridge. In fact, it’s the only way out of this place,” the priest said.

  “Damn it Padre, I thought you said we were looking for a book?” Cort demanded.

  “And we’ve found it,” he said.

  Then the young priest pointed at the pile of stones at the end of the bridge.

  “There, you must remember, books as we know them are a relatively new invention in the history of the world,” he said.

  Cort looked back down the length of the bridge again and squinted.

  “You're saying it’s like a stone tablet, like with Moses?” Cort asked.

  “Yes, I'm sure of it,” Father Callahan replied.

  The cavalryman nodded and allowed a small smile to spread across his face.

  “All right then. Get ready boys, time to cut in line,” he announced.

  “Olgoi-khorkhoi!” Shinji said pointing.

  The other riders turned and looked at the warrior oddly for a moment.

  “I mean…demon,” he said.

  The cavalryman’s head snapped back around and followed the warrior’s gaze. Past the crowd of souls, near the lake’s shore, a red tube-like thing just came into view sliding between the stones. It was nearly as thick as a man and perhaps two dozen feet long. It stopped moving just then as if it felt their gaze and its head lifted into the air as if to look around for the source. But its worm-like head held no eyes, just a circular mouth filled with concentric rows of pointed black teeth.

  “Death Worm,” Shinji said.

  “Well fuck me, there's another one,” Oliver said.

  A second demon came into view then, this one also down near the lake's edge. It stood slowly and had the body of a very large and very naked man. One of its arms was covered in thick fur and ended in a paw instead of a hand. The demon’s head was twisted and distorted, appearing to be part man and beast. It’s human hand it carried a large wooden club. The demon stood and rolling its shoulders started to pace back and forth, in an oddly human manner.

  “What in the bloody hell are they doing here?” Oliver demanded.

  Cort looked back and forth between the two demons for a moment before shaking his head.

  “They look like they’re standing guard,” he pointed out.

  “Why would they need guards? It’s not like this is the most rebellious lot I’ve ever seen,” Oliver said gesturing to the crowd of drained souls below.

  “Perhaps they’re waiting for us, for Danny I mean,” the priest said.

  “Paradox said that they weren’t much better than dogs, really just trained to fetch he said,” Oliver pointed out.

  “Yeah well, dogs can be trained to be guard dogs as well,” Cort replied.

  “I somehow doubt this means we are going to come back again and try another day?” Oliver asked.

  Oliver and Shinji mounted up again and circled back up the slope, crossing the path out of sight of the demon guards. Cort watched them now as the pair moved carefully through the rocks along the other side of the trail. The plan was simple enough, Shinji and Oliver would open fire on the worm and try and draw the beast away to the right. Cort would do the same on the left, opening fire on the club-wielding giant. All of them knew they couldn’t hope to kill the demons, but they didn’t have to. They just needed to distract them long enough to allow Danny the opportunity to sneak through to the bridge.

  “I’m going with him,” Father Callahan announced.

  “Thank you,” Danny said.

  “How far you planning on going Padre? You want to see if your name’s written on that stone to?” Cort asked.

  The priest paused for a long moment before he replied.

  “I…I don’t know,” he said.

  “Fair enough Padre. In truth, I’m starting to doubt saving young Danny is going to be enough to wipe all of our slates clean, but if one of us has a chance I think it’s you.” Cort replied.

  “There may be other opportunities,” Father Callahan replied.

  “Will there be?”

  Before the priest could reply one of Shinji’s arrows shattered against a boulder a few feet away. Cort
’s head whipped around and went straight to where the warrior crouched hidden amongst the stones. Shinji was pointing and gesturing wildly back up the crater’s slope, Cort turned again and immediately knew they were in trouble.

  He could see souls being brushed aside and tossed through the air as something large bounded down the path towards the lake. In a few heartbeats, the thing cleared the rise and came into view. It was the size of a large horse but shaped like a hunting cat, with short blood red fur covering a long sleek body. A pair of horns protruded from its head like a bull, and upon those horns hung the torn and ravaged body of a helpless soul. Cort pushed Danny and the priest down behind a boulder before diving for cover himself. The beast bounded down the path and right past the riders, scattering souls as it went. The demon came to a stop just shy of the bridge, and there with a vicious shake of its head, it dislodged the speared soul. The demon stood there over its kill for a few moments expectantly, then the dead thing began to twitch back to life. Soon enough the withered and bloody soul stood and began its walk down the bridge.

  “I guess that answers what happens to the souls they capture,” Cort said.

  “Paradox said they were simply fetching for their master. It seems those that they hunt down, men beyond redemption…,” the priest began.

  “Go straight to the front of the line,” Cort replied.

  Just then the cat-like demon’s ears twitched, and it’s a head came up quickly, looking back up the slope towards them.

  “Get down!” Cort hissed.

  Danny, Cort and the priest ducked back down behind the boulder. The demon scanned the slopes, its cat eyes narrowing, and then it began to slowly pad back up the path. Around it, the drained souls were all standing and taking their places obediently in line again, seemingly oblivious to the demonic cat that now hunted amongst them. Cort drew his revolver as quietly as he could, he glanced over to where his horse stood next to the priests. He already knew if that thing came after them he wouldn’t be able to mount up in time to escape. Cort risked another glance, below them the demon slipped in amongst the boulders and began to casually bound its way from rock to rock, up the slope in slow measured leaps. The beast seemed to have sensed them, he was sure of that, it just hadn’t figured out what or exactly where they were, yet.

  Cort glanced back across the path to where Oliver and Shinji had hidden, but from where he lay he couldn’t see them. With each moment the demon closed in on them, and he realized that if he wanted an opportunity to escape he had to make the first move.

  “Padre, I want you two to stay fucking put! I’ll draw them off as best I can, then you make for the bridge. Forget the horses, get in amongst the souls and use them for cover!” Cort whispered.

  “But Cort…” Danny began.

  “No time kid, good luck!” he replied.

  With that, the cavalryman took a sharp breath, cocked his revolver and jumped to his feet. A split second later a gunshot shattered the silence, and a lead ball tore through the air just past Cort’s head. The bullet struck the prowling demon in the face in a shower of blood and fur. The beast let out something between a scream and a hiss as it tumbled backward off a boulder. On sheer reflex, Cort dropped face down to the dirt again, already scanning for the shooter. Then across the path from them, Oliver rode from cover still holding his smoking rifle.

  “Give them hell Leftenant!” he shouted.

  With that, the Dragoon kicked his horse into a run and began racing back up the path out of the crater. A moment later Shinji followed after him, the warrior turned nearly backward in his saddle and launching shaft after shaft at the demons below. The disfigured giant roared in agony, a black arrow protruding from his neck and two more from his thigh. Then the demons were in motion, the cat leaping over Cort’s hiding position in a single bound chasing after the fleeing riders. The worm and the giant racing up the pathway in pursuit, knocking aside drained souls as they went and each screaming in rage. The demons ran past Cort’s position, up the slope and out of the crater.

  The cavalryman was on his feet a heartbeat later, he drew his saber and running from cover raised his pistol to fire.

  “No Cort! Stop!” Father Callahan screamed.

  The cavalryman hesitated for a moment, part of him hearing the priest and knowing he shouldn’t shoot. Then his heart caught in his throat, and he raised his gun again pointed at the fleeing giant’s back.

  “Those are my men!” Cort shouted.

  “And if you shoot then their sacrifice will mean nothing! They still may be able to escape those beasts on the plain, but if just one of those things turns around we are finished! Cort, think about Danny!”

  Cort’s aimed wavered for just a moment and then the demons disappeared over the edge of the crater. The beasts were now pursuing his men back out onto the plain. Cort lowered his pistol and then screamed in frustration.

  “Fuck!”

  Father Callahan led Danny out from the cover of the rock, tears were now streaming down the teen’s face as he looked back upslope after the fleeing men. The priest opened his mouth to speak, but Cort shouted him down.

  “Go now, run!” he yelled.

  The priest grabbed Danny by the collar and turned him back down the slope towards the bridge.

  “What about Shinji and Oliver?” Danny pleaded.

  “They’ve fought their way out of worse scrapes than this,” Father Callahan lied smoothly.

  Then after the slightest hestitation added, “They’ll be fine.”

  The priest pushed the teen down the path urging him to move faster as they made their way towards the bridge. Cort continued to watch the path above them for a few moments more, then reluctantly he turned and followed after them.

  Father Callahan led Danny down the slope, keeping to the path and intent on using the mass of souls as cover, just as Cort had instructed. But as they neared the first few scattered souls, it was apparent immediately that something was very wrong. The withered souls began to act strangely and what had been an orderly process erupted into chaos. Some of the souls screamed and looked around in panic as if suddenly not sure where they were. Other souls simply began to scream and cry, some pleading for help and others just wailing. Others began asking questions, demanding answers from anyone that would listen. Some even began to wander away from the path, having taken one look at the lake and now wanting no part of it.

  “What in the hell is happening?” Cort shouted.

  “I don’t know,” the priest replied.

  As Cort ran behind the pair, he looked ahead and could see the change moving through the crowd. What had been orderly lines of desiccated souls not thirty feet in front of them was breaking down into utter madness. The change moving like a wave ahead of them, it was the boy he realized.

  “It’s Danny, it’s like he’s so full of life these poor bastards can taste it. They are getting just enough to bring them back around,” Cort shouted.

  “What do we do?”

  “Just keep running!”

  The men pushed on, running through the gathering of souls and closer to the bridge with each step. The crowd parted before them, the shrieking souls pulling away out of confusion and fear. The bridge loomed ahead of them, and the lake began to splash and roll violently as if sensing their approach. As they ran Father Callahan looked over Danny’s shoulder and straight down the length of the bridge, he could just see the granite slab, the book of life waiting for them. Then just ahead of them the priest noticed something odd, amongst the crowd of souls cowering and screaming, one figure stood tall. He recognized Jamie’s wicked grin a mere heartbeat before the gunfighter started shooting.

  “Danny!” the priest screamed.

  Father Callahan dove forward pushing Danny to the ground as four rounds tore through the priest and his body slumped lifelessly to the ground. Cort raised his revolver, but the gunfighter’s second pistol was already trained on him. Jamie fired, shattering Cort’s forearm, shoulder and hip and the man went down hard, his revolve
r went spinning out of his now useless hand.

  “No!” Danny shouted.

  The teen fought his way to his feet and then turned, trying to reach the dead priest. Jamie casually shot Danny through the right calf, and the boy collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain and gripping his leg.

  “Not so fast kiddo,” Jamie said.

  “Why?” Danny screamed.

  “Just bad I guess. Now you just stay right where you are kid. I know you got all sorts of tricks, but I got a feeling I can hurt you even faster than you can heal. So how about you save us both some trouble and just sit tight for a spell? Us adults got some talking to do,” he said with a grin.

  Jamie circled away from the boy to his left, keeping one gun trained on the wounded boy and the other on Cort. All around them souls whimpered and cowered in fear, watching the scene unfold in confused horror. Cort’s right arm was ruined, his whole right side was a mass of blood and pain, but somehow, he managed to roll himself over. As Jamie approached Cort’s first instinct was to find his pistol, he glanced around at the ground, but it was nowhere to be seen. Cursing silently, he took a quick breath and then awkwardly tried to draw his saber with his left hand. Jamie shot him twice more, once in the left wrist and then the left arm. Cort screamed in pain and collapsed down to his side again.

  “Ah-ah-ah!” Jamie said shaking his head.

  “Fuck you, Jamie!” Cort shouted.

  The gunfighter just grinned, he pulled the trigger on his Scofield again, but this time the gun just clicked.

  “Damn it, nothing good lasts forever, you ever notice that Cort?” Jamie asked.

  The gunfighter holstered his empty gun and took another step towards the wounded cavalryman.

  “Take you and me for example,” Jamie said.

  “What are talking about?” Cort asked.

  Jamie glanced back over at Danny for a moment, the boy was trying to crawl towards the priest again.

  “Hold on a second Cort,” he said.