Night Marshal Books 1-3 Box Set: Night Marshal/High Plains Moon/This Dance, These Bones

by Gary Jonas

  “Next time there’ll be a pistol in that hand.” Nancy growled.

  “Ladies!” Jack said, as much to stop the fight as to get things rolling. “The longer we stay here and argue, the closer the bad men with the guns get. Let’s go.” He turned Roulette and started out across the valley. The clouds rolled in again, and Jack hoped it would be enough cover to get him safely to the cabin.

  But then there was the problem of getting in. He’d have to worry about that later.

  Jack and Nancy rode lead, followed by Orela with Jade Silk Doll, while Gemma brought up the rear, probably to put as much distance between herself and Nancy as possible, Jack thought. The horses pushed on through the snow. The bitter cold nights and sunny days had frozen some of it, giving the horses a more solid base to walk on, but fresh powder from the recent storm drifted in places. It was hard to tell when the horses might plunge through. Roulette was none too happy about Jack’s choice in routes. Truth be told, neither was he. The clouds moved fast, some parted like veils to show him how little night he had left before coming together again. Snow devils whirled around them, reminding him of the Preacher. He studied Nancy out of the corner of his eye. She looked no prettier by the gathering light. He thought about what she would become if he turned her, and shuddered. At the same time, he wanted desperately to drain her, to drain any of them. All of them. The hunger was getting bad again. He had not fed since the wolves. The canteen sloshed in his pack, still liquid, still inviting. He may have to resort to it. Better that than the alternative.

  Maybe they could ambush the miners after all, take them out, then Jack could slip away the next night before temptation got the better of him. A dead miner’s blood wouldn’t be near as satisfying as a warm woman’s though.

  the sheets, her fist, turning white

  The report of a rifle brought him out of his reverie real quick. He reached automatically for his Colt, then remembered Nancy had it. Another shot, and a patch of snow flew up around them.

  “Nancy! My gun!” But she was already turned in the saddle with her own rifle pointed back behind them. Jack turned and saw seven horses, two rider-less. They had dismounted to shoot, but were saddling up again. The other five had pistols drawn and were riding as hard as they could for some closer work. Nancy pulled the trigger three times and one of the mounting men fell back to the ground. Nancy fired again, taking down another man.

  “Nancy! Gun! Now!”

  Nancy looked at Jack like he’d appeared out of nowhere. She recovered quickly, tossed him his gun and then untied a rifle from the spare horse. She handed him the rifle along with a bandolier and jumped down from her horse.

  “Orela, Gemma! Ride to them hills! Go!” She handed the spare horse’s reins to Orela, then turned and smiled at Jack. “This weren’t a bad idea at all. We got us a fight!”

  Except that Gemma had turned her horse and was galloping straight for the riders. “Trimpy? Trimpy take me back!” She yelled.

  “Goddamned stupid bitch!” Nancy fired at the riders, and Jack couldn’t be sure she wasn’t aiming for Gemma.

  “Hold your fire. I’ll get her.” Jack raced towards Gemma, who by now had gotten a closer look at her ‘rescuers’ and decided maybe Trimpy wasn’t following after all. A pistol shot confirmed her dullard’s suspicions, and she turned her horse and headed back the way she’d come, screaming all the while.

  A bullet struck Jack’s shoulder, making him flinch. He was just glad it didn’t hit Roulette. Jack marked the man who’d made the shot, a black-bearded sonofabitch with a floppy brown hat. He was going to taste so good. Jack raised the rifle and fired. He wasn’t half-bad on horseback, guiding Roulette with his body while his hands occupied themselves with the rifle. Two more miners went down. Gemma rode past Jack. He fired again, missed, and turned Roulette around. Orela’s horse and the spare were spots in the distance, and Nancy was still on the ground, using her horse as cover. A bullet whizzed by Jack and took down another miner. Thanks for the cease-fire, darlin’. Feel free to shoot right through me.

  Gemma’s horse, now foaming with fear, galloped ahead of Roulette and threatened to trample Nancy’s. Gemma held on for dear life, screaming all the way. Nancy saw the problem and took off after her. At least the damn thing’s headed in the right direction. Another shot hit Jack in the same shoulder and went right through. Meanwhile, I’ll just let my body imitate a train tunnel. Jack felt the first bullet push outward as his body healed itself. He hoped they wouldn’t fall out of his shirt. He needed them to pull off his human masquerade. The miners rode hard after him. There was no question in Jack’s mind that they were the Preacher’s men now. No simple lost bet was worth this effort, even if it had cost them a little of their blood.

  Up ahead, Jack could see the cabin set against the hills. The snow-covered hilltops were pinking up with the rising sun. His sharp vision would soon turn against him, blinding Jack before burning his eyes along with the rest of him. The safe cover of trees was too far, and besides, Nancy would hunt him by day thinking he’d joined up with the miners. His best bet was to bunk with the ladies, if they invited him in. But first he’d have to make it to the cabin before the first rays of morning light hit his skin.

  Gemma’s horse veered away from the cabin. Nancy and Jack gave chase. The miners looped around after them, and two more joined in the fun, riding up from the south. Nancy drew her pistol and fired, grazing one of the newcomers. His expression didn’t change, though blood flowed freely down the side of his face. Jack’s hunger grew. He was only about a hundred yards away and the blood looked so inviting. Nancy yelled at Jack, something about herding. She rode up between the miners and Gemma’s horse, forcing it to change direction. Jack covered her with his rifle, taking down the other newcomer with a shot to the leg and the chest. Despite his fall and wounds, the miner stood back up in the snow and aimed for Gemma and Nancy. Jack took him down with another shot to the head, but not before the miner got his own shot off, hitting Nancy’s horse. The animal screamed and slowed, blood pouring from its wound. Nancy shouted to Gemma, and their horses turned northwest, headed again for the cabin. Up ahead, Orela stood out front, rifle in hand. Jade Silk Doll was nowhere to be seen, probably safe inside.

  Roulette caught up with Nancy’s horse just as it staggered and dropped to the snow. Jack pulled her up behind him as morning light hit the valley, blinding him. His face felt hot as hell, and he pulled up his bandana and looked away.

  “I can’t see!” he shouted. “Snowblind!”

  “I’ve got ya!” Nancy didn’t need to guide Roulette to safety, but she didn’t need to know that, either. They rode for the cabin, Nancy shouting for Orela to hold her fire. Jack hoped Orela was better at taking orders than Nancy. Turns out she was, and they and Gemma made it to the cabin without further incident. Jack and Nancy jumped down from Roulette. Nancy turned to fire on the pursuing miners.

  Who were nowhere to be seen. Nancy lowered her rifle and scanned the valley. Nothing.

  The ladies were safe, but Jack was not. He stood behind Roulette, the horse shading him from the worst of the light. The open cabin door was only a foot away, the darkness inside promising comfort and shelter, but he was barred from it, unable to enter without being invited. “Hello the house!” he tried to shout, but his voice sounded weak and feeble to his ears.

  “Gemma, Orela, get in the cabin. Jack—” Nancy narrowed her eyes; an expression of hers that was becoming familiar to Jack. “You get in there, too. I’m gonna scout.” Orela stepped through the doorway and Jack tried to follow, hoping Nancy’s command would be enough. It wasn’t. Jack felt his skin grow hotter under his clothing where the full rays of the sun hit him. “Orela....” he whispered.

  Orela turned, looking a mite confused. She reached back outside and took Jack by the arm, then pulled him through the door and into the easeful darkness.

  (iii) In a Cabin

  Jack’s eyes quickly adjusted to the cabin, and just in the nick of time. Orela’s hand was on th
e window curtain. She pulled it open.

  “No, please, close it!” Jack’s voice made Orela jump. He covered his face and turned away before realizing that the light coming in was weak and diffused. The sun had risen up past the storm clouds. “Close it, Orela. You don’t want them to see us in here, get a clear aim.” She pulled the curtain closed again.

  “You been shot,” she said.

  “Yeah. Reckon I have.” Jack uncovered his face and sat down in a chair. He was relatively safe, but there was still enough light coming through chinks in the cabin’s plaster to make him cautious. He hoped for the blizzard to return full-force. It would mean they were trapped here, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about rays of sunlight hitting him like stray bullets.

  “Let me look at your shoulder, Marshal. Maybe I can help.” Orela walked over to Jack, reaching for his arm. Jack stopped her with a look. He watched her soft blue eyes unfocus, her jaw go slack. He knew he could hold her there enthralled, just long enough to nuzzle past her straw-colored hair, bury his teeth in her throat, get her blood flowing fast and hot. Of course then Gemma and Jade Silk Doll would start screaming, unless he were fast enough, enthrall them too. Then he could feast on all three....

  Stop this line of thinking right now, Jack Talon. This is not who you are.

  Maybe not, but Orela was right in front of him, so pretty and helpless, so warm and alive, waiting for him to take her. And he was so hungry. Jack shook his head to clear it instead, and let Orela go. She blinked a couple of times and stared back.

  “What I need you to do is get my gear off my horse. I’ve got supplies to patch myself up. Gemma, you get a fire going.”

  “This place sure does stink,” Gemma said. “Whoever lives here can’t cook worth a damn.” Instead of helping, Gemma pulled up a chair and sat down. “I’m tired and my feet are bad. I aint about to start no fire. Orela, you do it.”

  Orela frowned and looked back at Gemma. “You go get the Marshal’s pack then. I aint doin’ everything.”

  When Gemma started to protest again, Jack stared at her and said, “Listen, you ingrate. I risked my life, hell I risked my horse, to save you from your own foolishness. Now, instead of Orela, you will go out there and you will not only get my pack but you will unsaddle Roulette and rub him down like he’s your best-paying customer, and you will bring my things back in. Do you understand me?”

  Gemma murmured, “Yes, sir,” under her breath and slipped out the door.

  “Well done, Marshal. Roulette should be one happy horse.” Orela giggled. Jack thought it was a sweet sound. She walked to the fireplace. “Well, here’s the problem.” Orela tilted her face over a pot hanging above the cold ashes from the last fire. “Someone let the beans boil off. They’re all burnt black and stuck to the pot.”

  Like maybe someone started cooking supper, got called away and never returned. That thought gave Jack a bad feeling. It looked like Orela didn’t care for the situation, either. She contemplated the pot for a few seconds before moving it out of the way. She took some kindling from beside the hearth and piled it up over the ashes.

  “I wish Lily was here,” Orela said as she worked. “Things started to fallin’ apart after she disappeared.”

  “Lily was in charge? I didn’t think Nancy was the sort of person to let anyone tell her what to do.”

  Orela smiled at that. “Nancy’s not a bad sort; she’s just no good with people. Lily did the people part real good. She come in where we was whoring, posin’ as a whore herself, talked to us ‘bout what was out there, a better way, a chance to really live life free.”

  “So you weren’t kidnapped?”

  “Oh mercy, no. Me and Jade and Gemma lit out with Lily, and Nancy was waitin’, all ready to raise holy hell if we was followed. That part she is good at. She’s kept us safe in the wilderness. But Lily kept us all easy, kept Gemma and Nancy both on short leashes, though Nancy didn’t feel it. She don’t have many friends, I can tell that. Pretty obvious to anybody, aint that right?” Orela laughed, and Jack found himself smiling at her. “I think Lily’s probably one’a her only friends, and now she’s gone and I think we can assume she’s shaken off her mortal coil, God bless her. Only Nancy don’t want to think that. I can tell she’s scared, but she don’t want to admit to that, either. Now that Lily’s gone, Gemma smells that fear on Nancy, so she thinks she can queen bee all over her. Wish we’d left that uppity bitch back in San Francisco.” Orela smiled again as the first flames jumped and the kindling popped and snapped under them. She tented some larger branches around the pile like a teepee and watched with satisfaction as they took fire.

  “There. That oughta warm Gemma’s feet if not her heart. Jade, honey, you want to come outta that corner and warm yourself up?” Orela beckoned to the shadows and Jade Silk Doll appeared. The girl moved closer to the fire and sat down, pulling her legs up again like she had in the woods. She turned and looked at Jack and the two studied each other. Jade had the long black hair and almond eyes of her race, but in those eyes was the universal look of the victimized – wariness and fear.

  Orela knelt down beside the girl and stroked her hair. Jack watched her hands. Jade did not look away from Jack’s face.

  “How old is she?” Jack asked.

  “Ask her. She does have ears,” Orela replied.

  “I meant no disrespect,” Jack said. “Jade, how old are you?”

  Jade hesitated, then held up both hands, fingers spread. She lowered one hand while tucking her thumb against her palm with the other. Fourteen. Her fingers curled down over her thumb and she wrapped her arms back around her legs. She turned her head to stare into the fire.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said.

  “Can I tell him your story, Jade?” The girl nodded and Orela went on, still stroking her hair. “Jade come over on a boat from China. Her mama and papa come over with her but the good Lord saw fit to take their lives on the journey. Jade had no one else. Trimpy bought her straight off the boat from the captain. Gave her a new name and everything. Had her cleanin’ the rooms, then put her to service after about a year. She been workin’ a year again when Lily come for us.”

  “Where are you all headed?”

  Orela grinned apologetically. “’Fraid I can’t tell you that, Marshal.”

  “Please, call me Jack.”

  “Ok, Jack, but I still can’t tell ya.” Orela winked at him. “All’s I can say is it’s some place safe for the likes of us.”

  Gemma shoved the door open with her shoulder. Jack winced and turned away from the sudden light. Lady Luck was on his side – the storm had picked up again and the day was dim as twilight. Gemma dropped Jack’s saddle bags on the floor in front of him.

  “Where’s Nancy?” he asked her, as he stated going through his pack.

  “Still scouting. She told me to come check on everyone, make sure you aint in here rapin’ the ladies. You ladies aint raped, are ya?”

  “Course not.” Orela didn’t bother to look at Gemma.

  “And Marshal, you aint raped yet either, are ya?” Gemma laughed and moved toward Jack, swinging her hips. “I could change that if you’d like.”

  “Careful, Roulette might get jealous,” Orela said.

  “Shut your mouth, Orela.” Gemma sneered.

  “Gotta watch yourself around them redheads, Jack. Natural born whores.”

  “Oh, is it Jack now? Aren’t we all cozy in here?” Gemma sat down in a chair next to Jack. “And just look at the little princess by the fire. She aint done a lick a work since we got outta Frisco.”

  Orela and Jade ignored her. Jack pulled his canteen, a knife and a spare shirt out of his bags. He ripped the shirt into strips. Now all he had to do was distract the ladies long enough to pull off his charade. Gemma unlaced her boots – small and tight, thin leather that might have been white once but had gone the grey of a corpse. After she pulled the first one off, she leaned back, gagging. A moment later, both Orela and Jade reeled. Jack couldn’t smell it himself, bu
t he could remember from the war the sweet reek of rotting flesh. Gemma’s two smallest toes were black through and through. Her other toes were a patchwork of black, red and white, and the rest of her foot was beginning to blister. Gemma burst into tears.

  “Oh, Gemma! Here. Get here close to the fire.” Orela stood up and helped Gemma settle in front of the hearth, then took off the woman’s other boot. That foot was just as bad. Even Jade made sympathetic sounds over it. Orela sent the girl outside with another pot to fill with snow while she built the fire up. When Jade came back in, Orela hung the pot over the fire to melt the snow and warm the water for Gemma’s feet. “Shoulda never warmed ‘em back up the other day. Makes ‘em worse if they freeze again. I think we’ll be here a while so it’s safe to thaw ‘em out.” Orela put her arm around Gemma’s shoulders, and the woman leaned into her gratefully. Then she pulled a small bottle out of her coat pocket and took a swig.

  While the women fussed over Gemma’s feet, Jack used the distraction to treat his own ‘gunshot wounds.’ He turned away, took off his coat and shirt, opened the canteen, and splashed fresh blood over the old wolf blood stains on his shoulder and his clothes. The smell of human blood clung to Jack, torturing him. He wrapped his shoulder with the strips of torn shirt, making sure to add some blood to the bandage so it looked like it was seeping a little. He closed the canteen again, barely resisting the urge to drink it down. He made sure to turn around again before putting his shirt back on, to let the ladies see the blood on the bandage.

  Orela frowned. “You look pale. You sure you don’t want me lookin’ at your wound?”

  “No, miss. It’s not as bad as it looks. I got the bullet out with my knife, see?” Jack held up one of the bullets, now stained in another man’s blood. “If it gets worse, I’ll let you help then.” Of course it wouldn’t, and when he changed the bandage, there would be no bleeding at all. Miracle of miracles.

  “I think our Marshal’s just shy.” Gemma said, winking at Jack. She tilted the small bottle to her lips again.