by Gary Jonas
She ran her hand through that gorgeous hair. “You ever been in love, Jack? You ever had somebody love you? You ever feel that love twist against you, turn you into something you aint? That’s what happened to me.”
Jack thought of his wife, Sonya. He’d never known a more passionate lover, a more devoted and well-matched companion. A greater betrayer. “Maybe that’s what happened to me, too,” he said.
“I reckoned as much. You see somethin’ in me makes you wanna act mean. I might see the same in you, ‘cept I have learned to be at peace with who I am. I don’t think you have.” Nancy took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t know if somethin’ like you can.”
“Something like me?” Jack readied himself for an attack.
“Now don’t go getting’ all cagy on me. What we got here is two decent people who aint very nice. A killer knows a killer, ‘specially one that’s spilt blood he shouldn’t. I was a whore, but I done worse’n that.” Her voice went soft. “A whole lot worse.”
Nancy glanced out the window at the hateful storm. “I talk too much when I’ve had my coffee. Best you get you some sleep.” She laid the rifle across her lap. “I insist.”
Jack didn’t have it in him to argue. Had Nancy really called him a decent person? At least she got the ‘not nice’ part right. And the part about being a killer, one’s who’s spilt innocent blood. Don’t forget that, Jack. He settled into his bedroll. The weight of his hunger quickly pulled him down into oblivion.
***
The howling of wolves brought him back just as quickly. Jade Silk Doll sat up rubbing her eyes, looking like she’d just been awakened, too. Orela’s bedroll lay empty next to her. Gemma was gone from her bed as well. Nancy was staring wide-eyed out the window. She looked at Jack with an expression of utter bewilderment.
“I musta dozed off at some point. Orela and Gemma, they’re—”
One of the wolves yowled in pain.
Jack jumped up and, Colt in hand, opened the cabin door. It was evening and the storm still raged. Shapes dancing in the swirling snow resolved into Orela and Gemma squared off against the pack, which stood in a perfect line facing the cabin. But where the women should have been terrified, Jack heard their laughter punctuating the cries of wolves. Orela had one of the rifles, and as Jack watched, she swung the stock at a wolf’s head. Crack. It went down and did not rise again. Gemma had her own rifle, and with three quick shots, more wolves spilled their blood across the snow. Others lay dead as the women systematically went down the line. The remaining wolves should have been running, but they stood howling and crying, pawing at the ground as if they were trapped there and trying to get free.
And over it all, Gemma and Orela, laughing and laughing and laughing.
Nancy pushed past Jack, pistols drawn.
“Orela! Gemma! What in God’s name?”
As she ran towards them, the women turned around, still laughing. Jack could see no mirth, only hysteria as tears streamed down their faces. Gemma aimed her rifle at Nancy.
“Nancy! No!” Jack shouted. He launched himself after her, and threw her to the ground as Gemma fired. The bullet whizzed over their heads. Jack looked up in time to see the three remaining wolves break free from their invisible tethers and make a run for it. The women turned and chased them, Gemma seemingly oblivious to any pain from her recent surgery. Jack rolled off Nancy.
“They got a bad dose of laudanum?” Nancy said, almost to herself. “But them wolves, there’s no accountin’....”
“We’ve got to stop them!” Jack took off after the women, Nancy behind him, stumbling in the drifts. It was hard to see in the storm, but laughter drew them on. More rifle shots, and another wolf was down.
Gemma stopped running to fire. Nancy tackled her. “If I didn’t have my orders, I’d kill you right here!” the good time gal shouted. Gemma suddenly seemed to be crying in earnest. Jack kept after Orela. Her laughter took on a hysterical edge and Jack heard another shot, then nothing. He felt panicked; what if she’d shot herself? No, there she was, standing still with the rifle at her side. Jack caught up with her and slowed down.
“Easy, there,” he said. “Drop the rifle. Everything’s all right now.”
Orela let go of the gun and turned, then went to Jack’s arms. “It’s terrible Jack, terrible, the things I’ve done.”
“They were just wolves, Orela.” Jack wrapped his arms around her. He wished he could smell her hair. The desire to be human again hurt more in that moment than his hunger.
“No not them. Before them. Oh, I’m a sinner, Jack. A dirty whore.”
“Are you all right?”
“I need you to save me.”
Jack tilted Orela’s chin up and looked into her eyes. She was lovely as she smiled at him. “We can both find salvation if you’ll just do as the Preacher asks. Then we can be together,” Orela said, pushing her body against his. She moved her hand to the nape of his neck and kissed him deeply. Jack tangled his hands in her pale blond hair. Orela’s lips were soft and so warm, but all the warmth in her eyes was gone, replaced by a cold light.
Jack pulled back. “This isn’t you talking.”
“Turn Nancy, turn her soon. Do it for me, for us. It’s what the Preacher wants.”
“Come back to me, Orela. Throw that bastard off.”
Orela blinked up at Jack, her eyes filling with tears. “He won’t let me go. Please help me. It hurts. He’s showing me how terrible I am, how I chose to be wicked....”
“Throw him off!” Jack took her face in his hands. “Come on, you’re stronger than he is.”
Orela’s eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against Jack. He picked her up and carried her back towards the cabin. After a minute, she stirred in his arms. When she looked up at him, the coldness was gone from her eyes. She smiled faintly, then rested her head against his chest. “I aint sure what just happened.”
“A bad dream is all.”
Nancy and Gemma walked ahead of them, heads bent against the wind. Gemma sobbed and limped while Nancy half-dragged her along. When Nancy saw Jack, she covered her mouth.
“Orela, honey?”
“She’ll be all right.”
Nancy sighed with relief. “Gemma here swears it wasn’t laudanum. Not sure as I quite believe her.”
“It weren’t, I swear! Something bad came over me.”
“Yeah, laudanum.”
“I didn’t have no more. I just woke up out here with you pushing me down in the snow.”
“Says she doesn’t remember killin’ wolves or taking a shot at us. So what do you call that?”
They had reached the line of dead wolves. Gemma covered her eyes and sobbed while Nancy dragged her past them to the cabin, cursing as she went. She didn’t notice what Jack couldn’t help but see. The wolves had been drained of blood, leaving nothing for Jack to drink. A final warning for him.
The carrot didn’t work, so this was the stick.
***
Jade Silk Doll stood framed in the doorway. Jack looked her over for any signs of otherness, but all he could see was fear and concern. The girl looked past him, to the wolves. She stared hard, as if trying to remember, or puzzle something out. Maybe she could tell they’d been drained. Jade stepped back to let everyone inside, and Jack wondered if she saw the Preacher. The girl didn’t let on, just kept her typical silence.
Jack set Orela down. She was still shaken, but able to stand on her own. Gemma wailed over her feet and demanded the laudanum. Nancy looked like she was about to start shooting, orders be damned. “Fine, take it,” she said. “Anything to shut you back up.” Gemma added a healthy swig of bourbon to her medicinal regimen. She seated herself in front of the fire and it wasn’t long before she started to nod.
Orela sat down on the bed. She looked as dazed as if she’d joined Gemma on a bender. She has, though not through the typical spirits. Jack thought about telling the women about the Preacher. Would it help or send them into a panic? Nancy was already a hair trigge
r away from one, he reckoned. She paced, then stood by the fire, and this time it was Orela who received a narrow look from those gunmetal eyes.
“What the hell got into you? And what was wrong with them wolves?”
“I don’t know, Nance. Last thing I remember, I was dead tired and drifting off to sleep, then nightmares,” she glanced at Jack then looked back at Nancy, leaving him to wonder what her nightmares contained. “Next thing, we were all outside.”
Nancy shook her head. “God’s grace kept you alive out there, that’s all I can say.”
“More’n what you done. I’m goin’ back.” Gemma’s voice was thick and caustic.
Nancy glared at her. “All this time, you still don’t know what it is that I am doin’ for you. I’m saving you, you stupid whore!”
“Let her alone, Nancy!” Orela stepped between the two women. “She don’t deserve that.”
The big woman locked eyes with Orela. Even though she stood a head taller, she lost the battle. Nancy finally nodded and stepped back. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. It aint that you’re stupid, Gem, you’re just ignorant.”
“You overgrown bitch!”
Nancy held up a hand. “Hear me out. Stupid’s like a busted wagon wheel on the prairie, a lost cause. Ignorant just means you don’t know something yet.” Nancy looked at Orela. “You sit back down. I aim to fix Gemma’s ignorance. Nothin’ else.” Nancy stood by the fire. Gemma continued to glare at her. Orela sat on the floor next to Jade. The little girl leaned her head against Orela’s shoulder and let the woman run her fingers through her hair.
“You are stayin’ with us because I have my orders and I aim to follow ‘em. Got ‘em straight from the Prioress.”
“I don’t care if you got them from the Queen o’ Sheba,” Gemma spat back. “That Place aint for me no more.”
“Yes it is! Where we’re goin’ everybody who done what we done’s welcome there. We all got our sins, but when you walk through them gates, when you look at the Prioress, at her face and she looks at you, she’s gonna forgive them all.”
“Only a priest can do that,” Gemma said.
“Shut up and let me fix your ignorance. Though it may pain you,” she muttered the last.
“Nancy,” Orela smiled. “Be civil.”
“What? I am being civil. Nobody’s died.”
“So let’s keep it that way.”
Nancy scowled back at her. “This aint no Christianity like how you know it,” she continued. “This aint no, one-time-you’re-baptized-that’s-it-you’re-saved, say glory hallelujah and pass the oranges. Oh hell no.” Nancy leaned forward, and Jack couldn’t believe the change in her voice, from rough rapids to a calm, deep lake. “The Prioress is gonna unburden you of your sins, but then she’s gonna burden you with something else. Responsibility. You’re in the mission now, have been since you said yes to Lily. So you’ve got to follow the rules. Now, they aint the same kinda rules you’re used to. They aint meant to hurt you or take away from you, like Trimpy done. They’re gonna help you survive. They’re gonna make you strong. They’re gonna...well...they’re gonna help you heal.” Nancy’s eyes burned with passion.
Gemma spat into the fire. “They gonna help my feet heal, Nancy?”
“Your feet aint gonna matter when we get there. Just stuff the toes of your boots with rags, you’ll be fine. Nothin’ to keep you from shootin’ a gun.”
“Shootin’ a gun?” Gemma shook her head. “Just tell me more about them orange trees they got there.”
This was followed by silence, and Jack could feel Nancy’s weariness buried in it.
“Yeah. Yeah, we got orange trees.” She went on to describe a paradise on earth with a grove, a garden, and a spring that fed it all, how there was always an endless supply of water so cold and clean that to have a cup of the elixir was like popping the North Star into your mouth. Most days were spent tending the garden and orchards, and that was satisfying. Evenings, everyone ate together, talking and laughing, peaceful like. There were children, and they were safe and happy. Nights, everyone slept deep and slept well. All that talk suited Gemma just fine, Jack saw, and even Jade looked calm.
“You got a child there, Nance?” Orela asked.
The big woman looked at her, startled. Her face grew hard again. “No,” was all she said.
“Yeah, it sounds real pretty. Sure like to be there now.” Gemma’s dreamy look abruptly faded. “On account of I don’t know what I’m s’posed to do if you go the way of Lily.”
“Lily aint dead!” Nancy’s hands balled into fists. Orela stood up.
Nancy took a deep breath and some of the fire went out of her eyes. “I’m all right. I aint gonna hit her. But she has got to stop that talk. Lily’s out there, we just got to find her, if she don’t find us first.”
“Nancy,” Orela’s voice was low and sweet. “She’s got a point. The three of us don’t know where we’re goin’, Jack sure don’t—”
“And he won’t, ever.” Nancy looked up at Jack for the first time, as if she’d forgotten he was in the room.
“—which means that if Lily don’t come back and something happens to you, we’re as good as dead out here.”
“That aint gonna happen. I’m gonna get us all safe to the next gal waiting up the trail. Then we’re gonna head to St. Magdalene’s.”
Nancy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, so she didn’t see the looks that passed among Gemma, Orela and Jade. Looks that said they weren’t about to place any bets on any table in any gambling hall, Jack thought. He just hoped they weren’t planning on cutting their losses and going back to San Francisco.
(iv) Necessary Evil
The good time gal was snoring lightly when Jack slipped out of the cabin. He’d convinced Nancy to sleep while he stood first watch. Orela had stayed up too, which put Nancy at ease. She kept Jack company for a few hours, and that was real nice. He didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. Orela took the edge off his hunger with her stories and easy laughter. Now she dozed next to the window. Gemma slept sound too, back in the trapper’s bed.
Jade slept curled up like a cat in front of the fire. She’d found herself a new hobby earlier, one that set everyone, even Orela, on edge. She had walked around the cabin, examining the various traps, then gone through a box of the trapper’s meager silverware. Orela asked what she was looking for, but Jade Silk Doll just smiled at her. When she went to feed the horses, she carried a D-guard Bowie knife, probably one the trapper had taken off a dead confederate. It looked like a sword in her tiny hands. Then after she’d taken care of the horses, Jade had come in with a little something from the wolves tucked up under her coat.
Ribs.
Jade Silk Doll separated the bones until she had a set of eight that were about the same size, not quite as long as the Bowie knife, and only slightly curved. The rest of the day, she sat in front of the fire scraping the thin meat off the bones with a skinning knife. When she was satisfied with that, she started sharpening the ends.
“Girl’s gone crazy,” Gemma murmured, and for once, no one argued with her.
The storm had raged through the day, then finally blown over. The stars looked like freshly-washed diamonds against a jeweler’s black velvet cloth as Jack slipped out the door. Without a distraction, the hunger raged through him. To keep himself from going back into the cabin and draining the sleeping women one by one, he thought about Roulette. He needed to make sure his horse was safe and fed. He found him still huddled with the other horses for warmth. Roulette nickered at Jack. He wasn’t the only one who was hungry. Jack realized that the big drift beside the lean-to was a pile of hay covered in burlap and snow. He dug into it. Jade Silk Doll had already made use of it earlier in the day. A large divot was carved out under the burlap and a pitchfork was buried in the middle of it. Jack got to work pulling out more hay. The stuff at the bottom had taken on moisture from the ground and was beginning to ferment. Jack looked closer at the hay. There was plenty of sweet clover
in there.
Enough to keep a hundred canteens of my ‘particular beverage nice and fresh.’
Jack felt a wave of nausea pour over him as he thought of the dead trapper. You son of a bitch Preacher. I know you aren’t my kind of monster, but just what are you? Any thoughts he had of leaving disappeared. If he did that, he might as well kill them all right now; it would be kinder than leaving them defenseless against a greater monster than himself. He’d see them safely to the next woman on this whore’s underground railroad, maybe even all the way to this St. Magdalene’s mission Nancy preached about and let the Prioress watch over them from there. But before that, he needed to eat.
Jack finished feeding the horses and started on his main task. He looked out over the valley to where they had ridden in. The miners’ bodies were gone, the wolves drained, but Nancy’s dead horse was still out there under the drifts. He hoped. It was going to be messy, but far better than the alternative. He made his way through the snow, which reflected the waning moonlight enough to show him that he wasn’t alone. Shapes moved low to the ground ahead of him. Jack crouched down and pulled out his Colt. He watched in the dark until he was sure he knew what the moving shadows were. The last three wolves had beaten him to supper. He didn’t dare shoot one this time. The report would bring Nancy faster than lightning on the unjust. Jack holstered the Colt and crept up on the feasting wolves. Their eyes flashed in the moonlight as they yipped and fed, the smallest one waiting on the outskirts for her turn, not willing to challenge the pack order. Jack leaped and caught the little female, whose distressed howl sent the others running. He sank his fangs into her throat and tasted warm relief.
Jack didn’t look up again until he heard the shuck shuck of the lever action on Nancy’s Winchester.
“No wonder I aint seen you eat nothin’.”
“Nancy, please, I’m—”
The first bullet took off Jack’s right cheek. “That was for the trapper!”
“Nancy.” Fresh wolf blood poured down his neck as he tried to speak. Jack stood up and the second bullet tore through his heart.
