Billie the Kid: The Sky Fire Chronicles Book 1

by Paul Summerhayes

  The scent of magic.

  Bright lightning sped from Billie’s gun toward a massive horned, bear-like demon, striking it squarely in the chest and lifting it off the ground. In slow motion, its immense body crashed into the wall, squashing several lesser imps in its wake. A moment later, she felt weary and time sped up, hitting Billie like a tidal wave. Her head spun and she stumbled back against the cage.

  Luck was with them. The demons had lost many of their number and hastily retreated, disappearing back into the tunnel.

  A firm hand dropped on Billie’s shoulder, helping her to return to the now. She looked up into Pat’s face. “Are you hurt? Are you all right?” asked the tall marshal.

  Billie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She was spent—unnaturally tired, like she was being weighed down by an unseen force.

  Is this the price I must pay?

  Roberts joined them, black blood dripping from his sword. “They’ll be back. We must go now while they regroup.”

  “It’s unlocked.” Pat swung open the iron gate and entered the enclosure.

  These desert horses were skittish, shying away from Pat and Roberts as they entered their enclosure. Each horse was well cared for as their stalls contained plenty of feed and water. The marshals selected and saddled three of the calmer horses and led them from the compound without too much fuss.

  “Eddie, you ride with me,” said Pat, lifting the boy onto a horse. “Hold on tight.”

  Roberts handed Billie the reins of another horse. “You and your brother will ride together. Make sure he doesn’t fall off.”

  “We can’t go yet!” said Billie. “We haven’t found a cure for my mother.”

  The old marshal bent so he could look into her eyes—his yellow eyes, cold and feral. “If we stay any longer, we’ll die. We’ll find a cure for your mother. But if we don’t go now, we’ll die.”

  Billie nodded.

  Chapter 22

  With Joseph slouched in the saddle of one horse and Eddie sitting on another, the two marshals and Billie led the three mounts through the exit tunnel and outside into the wide, bowl-shaped canyon. Billie inhaled—the air smelled fresh after the stuffy confines of underground.

  It was predawn and the yellow glow of the new sun was low, just below the canyon’s rim.

  Billie placed a foot into a stirrup and pulled herself up and into the saddle behind Joseph. He was in a stupor and barely conscious now, sitting limply in the saddle. She held the reins on either side of him so he wouldn’t fall off. Joseph was never a strong person, but seeing him this weak was heartbreaking. She couldn’t bear to lose another family member, not now and not to these demons.

  “We made it, Joey,” she whispered into his ear.

  A roar of anger shattered the silence, causing Billie to look back at the dark cave mouth. She shivered. Whatever made the sound was big and not something she wanted to meet. Her heels tapped the sturdy horse’s side and the beast trotted forward. Pat and Roberts also had the same idea and encouraged their horses on.

  They had not travelled far when the mountainous, horned bull-demon burst from the cave mouth and came to sliding stop. Imps poured from the earth’s depths, following their savage leader. The bull-demon’s massive horned head rotated, surveying the flat ground before locking onto the three fleeing horses. It bellowed a challenge and charged, covering the ground swiftly—much faster than their stocky horses.

  Skilfully, Roberts turned his mount, heading toward the charging monster. He spurred his horse on, holding his short sword level like an ancient knight’s lance, aiming at his foe.

  He’s mad!

  The demon swiped an enormous taloned hand at the old cavalry man, but Roberts ducked under the blow that would have crushed any man’s skull. As they passed, the marshal delivered a backhand slash, slicing into the demon’s exposed back, opening its hairy flesh. The demon answer with a scream of pure rage.

  Roberts tugged the reins sharply and pivoted the horse, narrowly avoiding the horde of demons that continued to pour out of the cave. Roberts’ horse plowed through some of the demon forerunners, knocking them aside with its barrel chest. The poor horse whinnied in fear as imps slashed at its flanks, drawing its blood. The old marshal spurred on his mount, breaking away from the imps and circling wide for another attack.

  Billie and Pat reined in their horses and Pat drew her gun in a smooth motion. Her horse stomped nervously as she pointed her revolver in the horned monster’s direction. Several rapid shots rang out from Pat’s gun, each bullet striking its intended target—the bull-demon’s head. All killing shots, but the demon only flinched as the lumps of metal hit home—the monster was otherwise unaffected.

  What will it take to stop that thing?

  Steadying her unconscious brother in her arms, Billie pulled her Peacemaker from its holster, aiming at the towering demon which was concentrating on killing Roberts. In her peripheral vision she noticed lesser demons were headed their direction.

  Concentrate!

  Billie’s gun barrel wavered as she aimed, hoping the lightning would come. She pulled the trigger and the gun barked, but the shot missed its intended target and dropped an imp instead.

  There was no lightning.

  No!

  Time had not slowed as she wanted.

  Work, you stupid gift! Please.

  Billie pulled back the gun’s hammer and aimed at the bull-demon again as it charged at Roberts’ back.

  Time slowed.

  Energy built up, flowing through her body as she squeezed the trigger. An intense light flashed as electrical energy weaved through the air, frying several imps that stood along its path. The lightning struck the big demon just below its knee, shattering bone and searing unearthly flesh with an ear-splitting boom.

  Thick sinews dangled from the monstrous demon’s ruined stump as it toppled to the ground like a falling mountain, bracing itself for impact with its massive arms and sending a cloud of fine yellow dust billowing up into the air. This demon wasn’t finished yet. Lifting up its torso by its thick arms, the bull-demon rose from the dust, looking about with alien eyes—it spotted Billie. With unmeasurable hatred, the hell beast issued a battle cry and lurched forward on all fours, oblivious of its injuries.

  With no concern for their injured leader, the lesser demons and imps ran past its prone form, charging at Billie and Pat. Dishing out death, Pat continued to fire into the front rank of imps, dropping several of the demons. Unperturbed, the imps leapt over the fallen and continued running, hungering for human flesh.

  Roberts pivoted his injured horse, now bleeding from multiple wounds, and spurred it across the path of the bull-demon. He dodged the demon’s murderous claws and his sword flashed as the sun peeked over the canyon wall, flooding light onto the valley floor. The iron sword sliced across the demon’s neck, spilling black blood onto the dust. The demon howled in pain and lashed out, backhanding the marshal’s horse and breaking its back with an audible crack. Unseated, Roberts flew through the air and hit the ground hard.

  “No!” Billie watched helplessly as the bull-demon, heedless of its black blood staining the dry earth, dragged itself toward Roberts’ motionless body.

  Do something!

  The monster raised an enormous clawed hand above the prone marshal as Billie aimed her revolver. She felt nothing. Where’s the lightning?!

  Her horse jumped, jostling Joseph in the saddle and bringing her attention back to her immediate surroundings. Several small imps were pulling at Joseph’s legs. Her horse whinnied frantically and bucked as claws slashed at its side and hindquarters. Billie clung to her brother and digging her heels into her mount’s sides, spurred it forward, knocking down the imps in its path.

  Billie galloped a short distance and took in her surroundings. A few of the lesser demons still gave her pursuit, but many had turned their attention to Pat. The tall marshal, astride her horse, was reloading her gun—many dead demons lay at her horse’s feet, all sporting bullet holes in
their heads. Eddie was before her, clinging to the horse’s mane, his eyes squeezed shut.

  Somehow Roberts avoided being squashed and had crawled away from the bull-demon. The demon raised its clawed hand for a killing blow when from nowhere, a man leapt onto its broad back—it was Tommy. How he survived the caverns no one would know, but he now clung to the demon’s back like a tick on a hound. The Native’s knife rose and fell in quick succession as he drove the long blade into the demon’s powerful neck.

  The bull-demon howled in pain as it reached over its shoulder, gripping Tommy by his head. With a flick of its massive hand, Tommy sailed through the air, hitting the ground with a sicking crunch.

  “No!” Billie screamed. Her fear gave way to rage as she brought her gun to bear. Pure energy pulsed down her raised arm. BOOOM! Lightning leapt from the Peacemakers’ barrel, gouging a path through the mass of imps to the bull-demon. The lightning struck the monster’s chest, blowing it clean off its feet and flipping it onto its back.

  The demon moved, smoke rising from its charred flesh. But before it could recover, Roberts appeared over the demon and hacked at its neck. After a dozen two-handed blows, the creature’s head rolled from its broad shoulders, flooding the dry earth with thick tar-like blood. Its sightless eyes stared up at the clear sky and the old marshal staggered back, exhausted, gore dripping off his sword and arms alike.

  In the growing light and covered in blood and gore, Roberts looked like a demon himself. His yellow eyes surveyed the battlefield, searching for movement amongst the dead and the dying.

  Chapter 23

  Sunlight streamed down on battlefield as the dead and dying shared their life liquids with the parched earth. The demons and imps turned tail even before their leader’s head rolled to a stop, sprinting back into the dark hole and the inferno below. The reason they ran wasn’t obvious—a reaction to the sun or the death of the bull-demon, no one knew.

  Billie shifted Joseph in her arms, watching the last demon disappearing beneath the ground.

  We survived.

  She urged her horse toward Roberts, who knelt beside his fallen friend. She dismounted and eased Joseph off the horse and onto the ground. Joseph had remained unconscious throughout the battle and was unaware of what they had just endured.

  The old marshal cradled his friend, leaning close to his battered and bloody face. Roberts was also covered in blood and his flesh was torn and bruised.

  “Did. We. Win?” Tommy asked, barely audible. He coughed and fresh flecks of blood appeared on his lips.

  “Yes, my friend,” said Roberts. “And you killed their leader. You are a great warrior and an honorable chief.”

  “I…I see. You. In the spirit world, my brotherrr...” Tommy let out a ragged breath, his sightless eyes staring up at the cloudless morning sky.

  “Hunt in peace, my friend.” Roberts closed Tommy’s eyelids.

  They reloaded their weapons and Roberts wiped the sword clean and sheathed it. No one spoke over Tommy’s crumpled body, but Roberts straightened his limbs, placing his hands on his chest. He wiped clean Tommy’s long knife, placing it under his hands. This was the best he could do for his fallen friend in the time they had. They were still in danger—the demons would be back.

  Carefully, they lifted Joseph onto a horse and Roberts climb up behind him, holding him in place. Pat, Billie and Eddie mounted the remaining horse and together they headed briskly toward the canyon wall. They were all silent—deep in their own troubled thoughts.

  Billie glanced at Joseph in the Roberts arms. I almost lost you, Joey…Harrison’s gone, so is Tommy, Sheriff Bartlett, Karl Stein, Duncan Campbell and Carter. All dead. I will save you and Mom.

  Roberts led, his keen sight picking out their tracks from the day before. They followed a narrow track as it wound up the steep wall to the flat, featureless desert. Billie felt drained and listlessly watched the desert go by until she saw familiar boulders and realized where Roberts was headed—they had made their way back to where they left their horses a day or more ago. She was too tired to tell the marshals that their horses were dead.

  Fleshless, white bones littered the ground and the area was stained dark with blood. Swarms of lazy, fat flies buzzed around what little remained of the horses. Everyone stayed mounted, there was nothing here for them.

  The sun was well above the horizon now and nothing moved in the morning light. After being underground in the hell caves for so long, Billie lifted her face to the sky, enjoying the morning’s warmth and the sun on her skin. No doubt she would curse the same sun soon for its unrelenting heat.

  They headed north, making a direct line for the Outpost and the fastest way out of the wasteland.

  The sun dipped below the horizon, the heat remaining in the ground and the air. Ahead, Roberts reined in his horse, indicating they would stop for the night. The horses were tethered nearby and they made a small campfire hidden in a gully. They settled in beside the fire and Eddie fell asleep almost immediately. Despite her thirst, Billie found herself dozing off as well.

  “How long have you had your gift?” Roberts asked out of the blue.

  Billie glanced at the old marshal—his yellow eyes reflected the firelight, giving him an unearthly look. Around the campfire, everyone else seemed asleep.

  “I-I…” Billie stuttered. “It’s only just happened.”

  “Just now?” he said, cocking his head with interest.

  “Yes.”

  He was silent for a time and Billie felt sleep overcoming her again. She was becoming powerless to fight it.

  “Would you like to work for your government?” he asked. “With me and Garrett?”

  “I can’t. My brother and mother need me. I must find a cure.”

  “Our government will help. The greatest doctors and surgeons in the country work for Uncle Sam.” By the firelight, his unwavering stare was a little unnerving. “The Agency is your mother’s best chance.”

  “Don’t do it,” said Joseph. She thought he was asleep, but he laid beside her with his eyes open. “The government doesn’t care about us.”

  Roberts glared at Joseph. “You know nothing, boy. The Agency is your sister’s only hope of saving your mother.”

  The night fell silent, except for the crackling fire. Billie looked into the flames, consumed with her thoughts. Can the government really help Mom? They have the resources…

  Billie glanced across at Pat. The tall marshal sat leaning against a rock, her hat pulled down over her face and her revolver resting in her lap.

  I trust Pat and she works for the government. Do I really have any choice?

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Of course.” Roberts smiled briefly, glancing at Joseph. “You both are part of the Agency’s family now and we always look after our own.”

  Like you looked after Tommy?

  By mid-morning of the next day, they had the Outpost in sight. The distant buildings had a stillness to it that matched the land and would have remained invisible to Billie if Roberts hadn’t pointed it out.

  At the Outpost, they dismounted and Roberts took the two horses around to the stables while Billie and Pat helped Joseph inside. Eddie followed quietly behind the two women.

  The interior of the Outpost seemed dark compared to the brightness of outside. The same old man stood behind the bar polishing its dark wood with a white cloth. There was no one else there.

  “We need water and a place to clean up,” said Pat. They lowered Joseph into the nearest chair. “Then we’ll need food. And lots of it.”

  “Clean up in back,” replied the barman, indicating a door. “I’ll get y’all some grub.” He disappeared through an open doorway and into the kitchen.

  “Ladies first,” said Joseph. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch the boy.”

  “Yeah, but who will watch you?” said Billie, returning his smile. She undid her belt and placed the holstered revolver on the table before Joseph. The two women entered the back room and closed the
door.

  Joseph stood unsteadily, leaning against the table as he buckled on the gun. “Eddie, wait here. I want to have a quick word with Roberts. Understand?”

  Eddie nodded. He sat at the table and stared silently at the table’s surface.

  Joseph inhaled sharply as pain shot up his leg. He limped across to the stables where Roberts was closing the doors. “Your story about looking after us is bullshit, isn’t it?”

  The old marshal turned and faced Joseph. “Settle, boy. I want the best for—”

  “For yourself,” interrupted Joseph. “Or the government.”

  “That’s not true. Hear me out.”

  Joseph hobbled to the hitching rail and steadied himself. He had been anticipating the marshal to be angrier.

  “You have the Agency wrong. We do look after our own. Ever since the Sky Fires first appeared, there have been mutants and demons popping up all over and the Agency has been there to stop them. The Sky Fires created rifts in our world and we need all the gifted people we can find to help close them. People like your sister.”

  “But she’s only a kid—” The rest of Joseph’s words were drowned out by the thundering hooves of a horse riding in hard from the open desert. A horse appeared from around the main building, reining in hard in front the two men and showering them in dust. Roberts drew his sword as the rider sprung from the saddle. As the dust settled, Carter stepped forward, his clothes filthy and torn. His face was sunburned and blistered.

  “I-I made it,” he said through dry, cracked lips.

  “So you did,” said Roberts, not sheathing his sword. “How?”

  “I hid!” said Carter, looking pleased with himself. “I hid from the demons. There were lots of demons.”

  “Your return is fortunate,” said Roberts as he thrust his sword deep into Joseph’s chest, burying it almost to the hilt. “For me.”

  Joseph’s eye went wide as he stared at his killer’s face. He slumped against the hitching rail, grabbing at the marshal’s arm. “Why?” he said weakly, coughing up blood.