Hell's Highwaymen

by Phillip Granath

  “What are you waiting for? Just…”

  Jerry didn’t hear the rest of whatever Marty was going to say, he was already halfway down the bleachers. The dozen or so other students sitting in the bleachers started to turn and watch him go. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped straight out onto the gymnasium floor. He walked across the volleyball court past the scattered groups of girls, some of whom had started to notice and were now watching him curiously. He ducked underneath the net and walked over to stand in front of the seated girl.

  She glanced up, and through her red puffy eyes, she saw him at the last moment. She turned away quickly and tried to hide her tears by pretending to adjust her hair. Jerry crouched down, so he was just at her eye level. A moment later she spoke.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to take you out for a cup of coffee,” he said.

  She looked up at him then, her face was beautiful and proud, but her brow was held firm.

  “And why would I go anywhere with you?” she said sharply.

  Jerry held her gaze for a moment and there in her eyes he could still see her hurt.

  “Because I think you could use a friend,” he replied.

  She opened her mouth slightly, ready to send him scampering away but she hesitated, and at that moment, he spoke.

  “My name is Jerry.”

  For a long moment she didn’t speak and then she replied softly, “I’m Rachel.”

  Jerry opened his eyes again, and the bridge stood before him.

  “Just walk forward Jerry,” he heard Cort shout from behind him.

  Jerry blinked away the memory and then shaking his head he turned and walked back to the waiting men.

  “It’s alright lad, fears nothing to be ashamed of,” Father Callahan consoled.

  Cort just shook his head in disgust.

  “I know it, but I also know that I can’t go yet,” he explained.

  “And just why the hell not?” Cort asked.

  “I failed my wife in almost every way a man can. She wasn’t perfect, but I had a lot to do with that. She’s going to have a tough time when she eventually reaches this place. I have the chance to do for her here, in this world, what I never could when I was alive. I can be a good husband. I can help her make it across the plain, help her conquer the nightmares she’ll face there. I have a chance to be the man she deserved. Then when we’re both ready, we can walk down that bridge together,” Jerry said.

  Father Callahan stared at him for just a moment before he smiled and slowly nodded in understanding. Cort had a different response.

  “Are you fucking stupid?” he demanded.

  “That plain out there is fucking infinite, you know what that means? It means it goes on forever. On top of that, every single motherfucker that dies ends up out there somewhere on it. That means that the odds of you even finding here are just, well…they're just fucking stupid,” he explained.

  “You realize as well, that she may live for another 50 or 60 years also, right Jerry?” the priest added.

  Jerry just smiled and nodded, “I do,” he said. “But what can I say father, she’s my wife, and she’s going to need me.”

  Cort shook his head again in disbelief, “Unfucking believable,” he said.

  Then the cavalryman turned and started walking back up the slope and Jerry, and the priest followed after him. The riders mounted their ghostly steeds and rode out of the crater.

  “What about Oliver and Shinji?” Jerry asked.

  “Well no demon came back dragging their bits and pieces, I take that as a good sign that they got away,” Cort replied.

  “How will we find them?” Jerry asked.

  “Only one place they would go after,” the priest said with a grin.

  “The Rose then,” Jerry said nodding.

  Then after a moment, “Cort I’ve decided that I can’t raid with you anymore. I won’t feed on any more souls, now that I know what it’s like, what it actually means.”

  “Relax Jerry, I came to that same decision myself,” Cort replied.

  “How will we keep from withering away and walking towards the lake then?” Father Callahan asked.

  “Well, Jerry has kinda given me an idea on that,” he replied.

  “I did?” Jerry asked.

  Cort laughed and then kicked his horse into a run, and the riders raced out across the desolate plain.

  Epilogue

  The riders crested a low ridge, Shinji, and Oliver riding each flank with Cort and the priest at the center. Below them a tour bus lay on its side, it was burning, and trailing black smoke into the red sky. Around the bus a dozen fresh soul milled about, some were crying and shouting, others simply sat in stunned silence. None of them had noticed the riders yet, they were all too caught up in their own suffering.

  “They look like fresh arrivals if I’ve ever seen them,” Father Callahan said.

  “They do, fresh as daisies,” Cort replied.

  Jerry leaned over, straining to see around the priest and get a good luck at the new souls. A woman immediately caught his eye. She was tall and slim, her hair held back in a ponytail, she was leaning down close to an older couple, but he couldn’t see her face. Jerry’s heart somersaulted in his chest, and before he knew what he was doing, he was in motion. He leaped from the back of the priest’s horse and raced down the slope, nearly stumbling head first as he ran towards the burning bus.

  “Rachel! Rachel!” he shouted.

  “Fucking amateur!” Cort shouted in disgust.

  Oliver laughed aloud, “but the lads in love Leftenant!” he said.

  “Alright boys, you know the drill, round them up!” the cavalryman shouted.

  With that the riders sprung into motion, Oliver and Shingi spreading out wide, ensuring none of the souls could escape. Cort pushed straight ahead with the priest trailing a bit behind him. As Jerry neared the overturned bus still shouting his wife’s name, the souls began to scream and cry out. Those that could stand were quickly on their feet and looking around desperately for a way to run. As Shinji and Oliver closed in, they quickly realized they had no escape and huddled together as closely as they could.

  Jerry reached the frightened group a moment before the rest of the riders and went straight to the woman he had seen.

  “Rachel?” he called.

  The woman looked up, her eyes were wide and full of fear, it wasn’t Rachel. Jerry’s heart sunk into his chest and he stood in front of the stranger in sudden despair. She stared at him for a moment and in a trembling voice she asked.

  “Who are you people? What do you want?”

  Jerry didn’t have the heart to even answer her, he just looked down and shook his head. The older couple, seeing father Callahan arrive suddenly came to their feet.

  “Father, oh Father,” the woman begged, “You have to help us, please!”

  “I will, I promise you,” he replied.

  “No, you don’t understand. We can’t find our Grandson Jacob, he was with us on the bus. We’ve looked everywhere for him, please help us find him!” the woman pleaded.

  Father Callahan stepped down from his horse and moved to stand in front of the frightened grandparents and smiled at them.

  “I know it doesn’t make much sense right now, but the fact that you can’t find him here. Well, that’s a good thing, a very good thing,” he said reassuringly.

  “What? I don’t understand?” the woman said.

  Cort moved his ghostly horse forward and clearing his throat shouted, “All right, everyone listen up!”

  Intimidated by the dangerous looking man and his riders the souls were immediately silenced.

  “So, I got some good news and some bad news for you all. The bad news is that every single one of you, is dead,” Cort paused as a startled murmur went through the group.

  “The good news is that this isn’t hell, though it may damn well feel like it sometimes. Now everyone here has got a long trip ahead of them. We are going to be crossi
ng a wasteland filled with more dangers than you could have ever imagined. It’s haunted by demons, and along the way, every one of you will be forced to relive and if you can, overcome the worst experiences of your life. No part of what is ahead of you is going to be easy.”

  Cort paused then, looking around at the group of upturned and scared faces.

  “But me and my men, have survived in this place longer than any of you have been alive. We’ve raided and fought and even died all across this miserable plain, from one side to the other. And we are going to help you get through it. We’ll drag you kicking and screaming along with us if we have to,” Cort said.

  “What are you talking about?” one man demanded.

  “Demons?” a woman demanded.

  “Bullshit!” a man shouted.

  “And if we believe you, then what’s exactly in it for you?” one woman said, rising to her feet.

  “Forgiveness and perhaps even one-day, redemption, maybe,” Father Callahan replied.

  Cort took a breath and added, “And when the time comes, we’re all going to need to take a little something from each of you,” he said.

  “What does that mean?” the woman demanded.

  “Think of it kinda like a tax,” Cort tried to explain.

  “A tax? For being dead?” another voice shouted, “you have got to be kidding me!”

  At that point, the discussion broke down into angry shouts, questions, and complaints. Cort and the priest tried to answer as many of the people as they could and others they simply shouted down. Oliver and Shinji just sat back on their horses laughing and enjoying the often-repeated scene. No matter how many times they had done this it was always the same Jerry thought glumly shaking his head.

  ‘Alive or dead people just fucking hate paying taxes,” he observed.

  Then from the corner of his eye, Jerry caught some movement around the edge of the burning bus. He turned and caught the fleeting glimpse of a tall blonde woman stepping back around the wreck. He stepped around the bus, keeping a careful distance as the flame continued to burn. There through the swirling flames, smoke and superheated air, he saw her standing there. It was his wife, standing tall and wearing all white.

  “Rachel!” he shouted.

  Jerry ran around the side of the overturned bus, but as he cleared the flames, the image of his wife was gone. Instead, he found a tall man, wearing a black and white striped suit. Paradox stood with his back facing Jerry, and the little man froze in fear. This was it, the moment that the riders had grown to fear, the rebellious demon had returned to seek his revenge for their betrayal.

  Paradox turned then, and his gruesome face lit up at seeing Jerry as if he had stumbled upon him by sheer accident.

  “Why hello Jerry! How are you, it has been a spell hasn’t it?” the thing asked.

  “I, I…” Jerry stammered.

  “Now Jerry, let’s not forget your manners now. How about lending your old buddy Paradox a smoke? They’re not easy to come by around here you know,” Paradox said.

  The frightened Jerry nodded dumbly, anything he thought to stall the inevitable. He dropped down to the ground, opened his case and produced two Lucky Strikes. He put them both in his mouth and lit them at the same time, the lighter trembling in his hand. Then he stood and held one out for Paradox to take.

  “Thank you Jerry, you’re too kind,” he hissed.

  Paradox took a long slow drag off the cigarette, his unblinking purple eyes locked on Jerry’s.

  “What are you…what are you going to do?” Jerry stammered.

  “Do? I’m not going to do, anything,” Paradox replied.

  “What?” Jerry asked.

  “Can you keep a secret Jerry?”

  “I...I...don’t…,” the terrified man stammered.

  “Do you want to know how you get bad men to do good things Jerry? Because as you know, they can’t be reasoned with,” he asked.

  “What? How?” Jerry asked in confusion.

  Paradox turned around slowly as if enjoying the view of the desolate plain as he smoked his cigarette.

  “First you have to show them that there is another way, you can’t just tell them that never works. Bad men aren’t inclined to trust you see. No, they always have to figure things out the hard way. Then when they finally realize it, and this is the tricky part, they have to think it was their own idea all along,” he said.

  “I don’t understand,” Jerry replied.

  Paradox grinned and then sucking down the last of cigarette all the way to the butt he turned and faced Jerry again.

  “It’s like I told you when we first met, there are Angels here to Jerry. They just typically tend to be more subtle, or more boring, if you ask me. But, of course, I have never been accused of being typical.”

  With that Paradox flicked his cigarette butt into Jerry’s face. The man flinched turning his head and when he looked back, Paradox was gone.

  The End

  About the Author

  Phillip D. Granath was born and raised in Alaska, where he still lives today. He served for 10 years in the United States Air Force. During which time he was stationed all over the world and deployed to Iraq 3 times. He has worked as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician (EOD) and then as an Explosives Specialist (TSS-E) for his entire adult life. He completed his first novel, To Cross a Wasteland in 2016, and subsequently quite his day job. He now attends the University of Alaska Anchorage pursuing a degree in English. Phil lives in Eagle River Alaska with his amazing wife Abby, their rambunctious little boy Gage, and a lovable Great Dane named Rogue.