by Gary Jonas
He wasn’t too worried when she didn’t show up for lunch. He went down to the saloon, ordered food and sat in the back corner to eat alone. He set the folded duster on the chair beside him. By the end of the meal, he started to get concerned. It was unusual for her to miss a meal with him without letting him know in advance.
Sonya can take care of herself, he thought.
He rose, and felt a major coughing fit coming on. He tried to force it away, but that only brought on more coughing. He dropped to one knee, his body wracked.
The bartender came out from behind the bar and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Sir, you’re hacking blood onto my floor.”
Jack’s eyes watered and he fought for breath. “Don’t touch me,” he said, but it came out sounding weak and pathetic, so he drove the point home by drawing his Colt.
The bartender backed off. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s just that you’re going to drive my other customers away. Can you use a spittoon?”
Jack finally stopped coughing. There were five other customers. After holstering his gun, he shook out the duster and pulled it on.
Jack shook his head and moved toward the doors. When he opened them, a blast of cold air and snow hit him in the face and he pulled his bandanna up to cover his mouth and nose. One quick adjustment of the hat, and he moved out into the elements.
He didn’t want to walk through the deep snow to go to the mayor’s place The stables were at the far end of main street. The boy who tended the horses was not there and the stables were locked. The family who ran the place lived in the house adjacent to the stables, so Jack trudged over and knocked.
A heavy-set woman answered the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Talon.”
Jack nodded. “And to you. I’d like to retrieve my horse.”
The woman turned from the door. “Harry! Mr. Talon would like his horse.”
“Okay, Mom!”
She turned back toward Jack. “He’ll be right out.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
A moment later, a young boy darted out the door.
“Harry, you need your hat!”
Harry stopped, gave Jack a look of utter exasperation then slumped his shoulders and returned to the house. “I don’t want to wear a hat.”
“You’ll catch your death out there without it,” his mother said and tugged the ugliest puke green wool cap Jack had ever seen down over the boy’s head. She rolled it up so he could see, kissed him on the cheek and motioned for him to go. “Don’t keep Mr. Talon waiting.”
When the boy returned to the great outdoors, he gave Jack an embarrassed look. “I hate this hat. It looks like a cow threw up on my head.”
“It does indeed,” Jack said. “But if it keeps your ears warm, it’s a fair trade.”
“I’d rather be cold. I can’t wait until I grow up and don’t have to do what Mom says.”
“Ah, but you’ll get married and have to obey your wife instead.”
They moved back toward the stables. Harry dug the keys out of his coat pocket as they walked.
“If she’s as pretty as your wife, it might not bother me so much.”
Jack laughed.
“She picked up her horse earlier. Are you gonna meet up with her?”
“That’s the plan. What time did she come by?”
“About mid-morning, I think. Mom woke me up to get her horse for her. I thought she’d be back by now. She said she was going for a quick ride.”
“She does like riding in snow.” Jack looked at the snow and couldn’t make out much in the way of tracks. The hours of snow and wind had swept away anything useful. His own tracks from the saloon were already filling in. Now he found himself getting worried.
Harry opened the stables. Jack stepped inside to warm up and waited while the boy prepared his horse, Roulette.
“Here you go, sir.” Harry led the horse over.
“Thank you, Harry. If my wife comes back while I’m gone, can you tell her I went to the mayor’s house?” Jack handed the boy some money.
“Mayor’s house,” Harry said. “I can do that.”
Jack mounted up and rode off into the snow.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The mayor ushered Jack inside.
“You’re early. Your wife decided to stay behind?”
“I was hoping she decided to come here before me.”
“I’m afraid not,” Wilkins said. “Can I get you some coffee? Perhaps a brandy?”
Jack shook his head. He followed the mayor into a drawing room and sat down. The cold air wreaked havoc on his lungs, but he struggled not to cough. He held it together through sheer force of will.
“Your wife is headstrong.” The mayor poured himself a glass of brandy. He held up the glass. “You should really try this. It’s quite good. My late wife made it. It’s a cherry brandy. She starts with morello and black cherries – roughly equal amounts – then—”
“I don’t care about your brandy, Mayor Wilkins.”
“That’s because you haven’t tried it, Jack.” He took a sip. “This is the last batch she ever made. I’ll never get to taste it again once it’s gone. I suppose I could try to make some myself, but it won’t taste the same. I could use the same cherries, the same brandy, the same cask, let it sit just as long, follow all the same procedures and…”
Wilkins set the glass down, turned away and wiped his eyes.
“She’s really gone,” he said.
Jack thought about that for a moment and found that it stirred up emotions in him he’d never really considered. He glanced at the door as if expecting Sonya to come through it. He wondered where she was. He’d never thought about trying to live without her. He always knew he would die first. The consumption kept getting worse and every day it grew harder to breathe. Eventually, he would pass away and Sonya would be alone. He knew she could take care of herself. She was definitely a survivor. He knew she spent countless hours thinking about how he was dying and how she’d soon be alone. She lived with that every day, but even the thought of Sonya being gone bothered Jack.
Then it hit him.
“Eternal life,” Jack said. “Shit. Where would the vampire be during the day?”
“I don’t know. Christopher’s house was down the road, but the McAndrews family lives there now so he can’t go inside. If I were to guess, I’d say he’s probably at the mine where I left his staked corpse all those years ago.”
“Where is the mine?”
Wilkins told him, then backtracked when Jack turned to leave. “You can’t go there now. It’s nearly sundown. You have to stay here and protect me. That’s what I’m paying you for, after all.” Wilkins pulled out a sheaf of bills and started counting them down onto the coffee table.
“I think Sonya went to see Smythe.”
“Then she’s already dead.”
Jack rose and grabbed Wilkins by the throat. “She’s alive. I would know if she were dead.”
“Whatever you say.” Wilkins struggled to break Jack’s grip.
Jack released the mayor, grabbed the stack of bills and shoved them into his coat pocket. “You’re sure the vampire will come here tonight?”
Wilkins rubbed his throat. “Definitely.”
Jack rubbed his chin. “If she went to him, he’ll bring Sonya with him when he comes here. She’ll have told him I’m planning to kill him.”
“Speaking of which, I took the liberty of preparing a few things.” Wilkins crossed the room and opened a cabinet. He removed a mallet and four wooden stakes that had been carved to sharp points.
Jack accepted the weapons, then moved to sit down. He knew he’d need to conserve his strength if he planned to face Smythe head-on.
“Wake me when he gets here,” Jack said, and closed his eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Christopher Smythe opened his eyes when Ted approached.
“The sun is down,” Ted said. “Should we get moving?”
“We’re not in a hurry,” Smythe said. “L
et Lucas spend hours and hours worrying about when I’ll arrive to kill him. Also, if he has that gunslinger with him and he’s half as good as his wife thinks, it would be best to let him waste time staring out the window waiting. Showing up early is simply not a good idea.”
“What about her?” Ted gestured toward Sonya, who sat on the damp ground with her hands tied behind her. She watched Ted and Smythe, but did not speak.
“Leave her alone.”
“But—”
“Enough. I have plans for her. That’s all you need to know.”
“Yes, sir. What do you want me to do?”
“When you were a child, did your parents ever teach you to play the Quiet Game?”
Ted’s eyes lit up. “I was pretty good at that game. My folks had me play that one just about every day.”
“I’d like you to play that now.”
“I can do that.”
“When I say now, I mean right now. Do not respond to tell me you’ll be quiet or you lose the game. If you can be quiet for the rest of the evening, I’ll reward you by giving you a woman.”
“A real live woman? Sorry, can we start the game now?”
“Starting now. Do you understand?”
Ted opened his mouth, but then caught himself and grinned. He gave an exaggerated nod.
“Blessed silence,” Smythe said.
He moved over to check on Sonya.
“And how are you this fine evening?”
She didn’t reply.
“You’re not playing the game with Ted, my dear.”
“No, I simply have nothing to say to you.”
“You’re not going to beg for your husband’s life?”
Sonya laughed. “You’re not nearly as smart as I thought you’d be. My husband is going to destroy you. I offered you a solution that would be better for all of us, but you’re too stupid to recognize it.”
“And here I thought you had nothing to say.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Evidently.” He untied the ropes that bound her. “You and I are going to take a trip into town.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“It seems that by speaking politely I’ve mistakenly given you the impression that you have a choice.”
“I always have choices.”
“You like choices. Very well. Would you like to go to town conscious or unconscious?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jack felt himself yanked out of his sleep. He bolted to his feet, drawing his Colt. The mayor staggered back, tripped over the coffee table and hit the floor hard.
“Jesus!” the mayor said, staring at the barrel of the gun in his face.
“Jack,” he said, correcting the man, then holstered his weapon. He looked toward the window and saw snow still falling in the darkness. “I think you woke me too soon.”
“It’s full dark outside,” Wilkins said as he climbed to his feet.
“I told you to wake me up when Smythe arrives.”
“He could be here any minute.”
Jack sighed. “You forget, I met Smythe.”
“So?”
“He won’t show up here until at least four in the morning. He’ll want you to be pacing the floor all night getting yourself worked into a panic. And if he knows I’m here, he’ll want me to be tired.”
Jack didn’t bother to mention that he was always tired these days. He didn’t want the mayor to worry about that, too.
“What if he decides to show up early?”
“Then you wake me up.”
“What if he catches me off guard?”
“I know you’re scared, but he’s a vampire so he has to have permission to enter a private home. I must admit that I’ve never understood that, but perhaps being undead forces one to be more polite.”
“What if he sets the house on fire?”
“Then wake me up. I’m not asking you to do subtraction here, Mayor. And I won’t waste my breath telling you to get some sleep. What I will do is make you a promise.”
“You promise to kill Smythe?”
“No. I promise that if you wake me unnecessarily again, I will put a bullet through your left eye into your brain. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I believe I do. I know you want to be rested and I appreciate that, but if you’re too rested, you might have difficulty waking up to handle Smythe.”
“You just woke me. Did I strike you as someone who wasn’t alert?”
The mayor swallowed hard. “Well, no.”
“All you have to do to wake me is place a hand on my arm. I assure you, I will be wide awake and ready for action.” Jack always awoke fast and ready unless he knew Sonya was with him.
“What should I do until then?”
“Keep chewing on your fingernails. They can grow back when this is over. Now let me rest.”
“Very well. And thank you for being here, Jack. I appreciate it.”
Jack reclined again and closed his eyes. It was difficult to breathe lying flat so he was glad he had the chair to keep him at a decent angle. He knew the last days of his life were ticking away and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d led an active life – a full life. In some ways he wished he could have just found a nice quiet place to settle down with Sonya and live in peace. Then again, he knew that would get boring in a matter of a few days and he’d want to go shoot someone or something. Soon, it wouldn’t matter what he’d wanted. As sleep crept up on him, he wished he could hold Sonya just one more time without having any other cares in the world. He dreamt of her smile and the way it lit up her eyes. Then the vampire showed up, pointed at her and the light in Sonya’s eyes dimmed then went out.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Christopher Smythe was never a big fan of horses. Once he’d earned enough money, he rode in the comfort of stagecoaches when possible. Sonya’s horse didn’t like him and grew skittish when he approached so he took the reins in one hand and allowed Sonya to ride instead. Smythe rode Frank’s horse. It still snorted at him, but reluctantly obeyed his commands.
“If this snow doesn’t let up soon, the town will be cut off until spring,” Smythe said.
“Are you trying to strike up a conversation with me?” Sonya asked.
“Just thinking out loud.”
“You’ve been dead a while, haven’t you?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered my proposal,” Sonya said.
Smythe shook his head. “I suspect we’d run out of people to drink if I turned you and your husband.”
“You do realize you don’t have to kill someone to drink enough blood to survive. Right?”
“I have to drain them so they die immediately or make sure they survive so they can completely recover. If I leave too much blood in their system, but they still die, they tend to rise. It’s a delicate balance so I normally drain people dry.”
“If you bite them.”
“Yes, there’s something about the saliva of the undead that infects—” Smythe stopped. “You’re right. If I don’t bite them, I can keep them alive in which case I can take enough blood to maintain myself and they can replenish the supply.”
“And if you turn me and I turn Jack, we can use the townspeople as a food source all winter. There will be plenty to go around.”
Smythe grinned. That was twice she’d mentioned that she could turn Jack.
“What’s so funny?” Sonya asked.
“Nothing.” He glanced over at her with new respect. She was definitely two steps ahead in her plan should he be willing to accommodate her. He wasn’t sure if Sonya wanted to sire Jack so she’d have more control over her husband or if she thought that by her siring Jack that Jack would be able to kill Smythe. Based on what he could ascertain, he figured it was both.
“Of course, to be honest, we wouldn’t have to stay here all winter.”
“If the snow closes the pass—”
“They bu
ilt a railroad loop through here a few years ago, Mr. Smythe. With silver coming out of the mines year-round, they keep the trains running all winter. So you could turn us and we could all go our separate ways.”
The snow intensified as they entered town. Sonya shivered, but Smythe didn’t notice the cold – being undead had its advantages.
“Are you going to the saloon again?”
“No,” Smythe said and approached a house on a side street. They weren’t far from Wilkins’ place, but Smythe made sure they didn’t come within sight of that house. He wanted Wilkins to worry and Jack to not have a target until he was ready.
“Who lives here?” Sonya asked.
“I don’t know. I think I’ll introduce myself.”
“What about me?”
“Climb down. You look like you could use some time in front of a fire.”
Sonya dismounted.
“Of course, I can’t have you warning them.” He reached for her throat again, but she slapped his hand away.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Sonya said. “You need my help to get inside. I have no interest in warning them. Let me show you how useful I can be. Perhaps you’ll reconsider my proposal if you see another way I can benefit you.”
She tied the horse to the hitching post and patted its neck. Smythe did the same with Frank’s horse. He wasn’t sure if Sonya just didn’t care about other people or she was so focused on saving her husband that nothing else mattered. A woman in love was a dangerous thing. Smythe knew he needed to be extra cautious.
“Carry me to the door,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you want to get an easy invitation?”
“Yes.”
“Then pick me up and let’s go.”
He lifted her into his arms as if he’d carried an injured woman before, and she started moaning.
“Even if you warn them, I’ll still kill them.”
He carried her to the door.
“Knock,” she said.
He adjusted her body in his arms, then rapped against the door. She resumed her moaning act and when the door opened she went into convulsions. An elderly woman saw Sonya in Smythe’s arms, and her face showed concern and some hesitation.
