Kearney is the man charged with removing anyone who stands in the way, and he intends to get the job done.
“Where the hell is that boss of yours!?” he screams, kicking the chair out from under Bob, who tumbles to the ground; half shifting quick enough to regains his feet before turning back– a hatred glow to his yellow eyes.
“Got Dern, Major, why’d you go and do that fer?” he mummers, slapping dust from his britches. “He’s inside.”
Before the words finish leaving Bob’s mouth, Kearney is in the room with his Lieutenant, following close behind. The two men enter the room swiftly, slamming the door closed behind them.
Red and Jasper are ready and the four men face off – circling in the center of the room, glaring, sniffing, and lightly clawing at the floor; all fighting the urge to turn, as the hairs stand upon their backs and they fight the beasts within. They slow, with growling becoming squealing, and yelps followed by long sniffs; in efforts to read the others actions and intent… Red and Jasper slowly acquiesce, falling into a slightly submissive stance – Red being more on the defensive; sensing the old Badgers need for blood.
CHAPTER THREE
WASHINGTON D.C.
The High Shifter Council of North America
(Six Months Earlier)
“Kearney is our man, and he proved that with the Sand Creek Indian campaign!” An older gentleman growls; his white wig nearly falling from his head, which he straightens and continues on, with exposed fangs; fighting the urge to turn and settle it in animal form, “And, he’ll be the man to see this job gets done, also!”
“The Sand Creek campaign?” another contorts. “That was nothing more than an innocent slaughter of women and children,” the man adds with a look of disgust upon his face – the truth being told.
500 Native Americans – mostly women, and children – were massacred by the Major and his troops, that day. When confronted with the fact, that only a handful of shifters were found to be among the dead, and that the rest were considered innocents; Kearney only replied with, ‘There is No Innocents left in the World – only death to those who oppose the will of the council.’…
In the end it was decided that, Major Daniel J. Kearney would indeed be the man to remove the Indians and Miners from the newly discovered gold fields of the western territories.
~
“Well, that was quite an entrance, Major,” Red announces, walking to his chair and seating himself. Jasper follows, standing behind his bosses left shoulder – thumbs tucked into the front of his belt buckle, and nervously rolling his tongue around the inside of his mouth; forcing his lower lip out.
“Where’s that little shit bird? I told you to have him here.” The Major inquires roughly – His disdain for the weasel shift.
“Relax, he’s on his way,” Red speaks calmly; testing the old man’s patience – who paces quickly around the room – Calm, not being one his assets.
“Does he have them signed?”
“I’m sure he does,” Red assures – speaking of the deeds to all of the local mines; that Red and his men have acquired over the last few months… by any means necessary – most being the outright murder and forged signatures of such deeds, making the Council the owner of all productive claims; under an assumed named business, associated with the local Railroad.
“He better have – You’ve had long enough… and what about the girl?”
“Don’t worry, she’s with the tribe – Just like you said she would be.”
“You’re positive – it was her, for sure?” The Major asks, stopping to study Red’s face.
“Seen her with my own eyes – Close enough to taste her,” he adds, with a raised eyebrow and a devious smile; and seeing the questioning look on the Major’s face; he continues, “Spotted her walking about a mile from their camp.”
“And you didn’t grab her!” The Major yells, infuriated, the man would let such a prize slip through his hands.
“Nobody told me to grab her! – you said find her, not get her.”
“You stupid son of a bitch – the girl is the key! She’s the bait that will bring HIM out of hiding!”
WASHINGTON D.C.
The High Shifter Council of North America
(Six Months Earlier)
When the council first heard of Mother Earth, they had high hopes that she would follow them; and convince all of her followers to do likewise – But it didn’t happened that way. She outright refused them, stating, “Humans have just as much right to live on this planet as we do.” And when asked to at least, stop allowing humans to control their animals within, or even completely denying them as Skin Walkers all together… Her final answer was “NO.” leaving the council with no alternative other than, a complete removal of all changelings not loyal to the achievement of global dominance by the Shifter entity.
However Mother Nature proved to be a formidable opponent – she obstructed the movement, by empowering the indigenous people with shifter abilities and protection from harm; by using the sacred herds of Buffalo shifters – The Largest land massed shifter herds on the planet; and loyal to the Mother and her material essence… the great shifter, Sogwili Wa’Toli.
The High Shifter Council seers had foretold of a girl who will come in the form of a White Buffalo, and lead her people to freedom.
“The mother of this girl – Must not be allowed to live – her name is Little Deer. Find her, and destroy her.”…
~
Red’s jaw is slackened, realizing his mistake at not taking the girl when he had the chance…But the girl was human. “She didn’t smell like a changeling to me,” Red announces; pondering how the girl figures in with the buffalo.
“She’s not!” Kearney screams… “But he is,” the major continues, deep in thought.
“Who’s he?” Red asks. But he doesn’t need to be answered; he’s heard the legends of Sogwili Wa’toli; and knows he’s the father of the legendary White bovine savior.
“It doesn’t matter! Just get the girl, before she leaves with the herds of buffalo.” Kearney demands; trying to silence Red, who continues pressing on.
“Have you tried negotiating with the herds? Maybe, they’ll work with us, and move along. The tribes will follow. All we’d have to do then is remove the miners – and, that’s all been taken care of… Right, Jasper?” Red sneers.
“That’s right, Major,” the slim cowboy acknowledges. “Took care of it; personally.”
The Major looks at the ill looking shifter with a look of distain – stopping the man from trying to impress him; any further.
“There will be no more negotiating – the Hunters are coming in; and the entire herd…dies,” he finishes with a smile.
“What!” Red questions loudly; surprised by the major’s proclamation. His skin crawls as the hairs rise upon his backbone; bristling against the inside of his shirt – Long nails retract back as Red desperately tries to calm himself. The major is prodding at him – goading him on and looking for a reaction. “Listen, Kearney – I had a good thing going here, before you and your men came along. You asked me to run off the miners, and I did. You told me to find the tribe, and I did. You want me to get rid of the girl, I will. But why kill off the whole herd? Let’s get the girl and call it a day.”
“What’s wrong, Red? You’re not going soft on me, are ya’?”
“The buffalo are the sustenance of the plains, Kearney – Without them, most of the plains inhabitants will suffer...or die,” he adds, unable to hide his disapproval.
“Exactly,” Major Kearney agrees, smiling.
“Soft, doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Red adds…
~
MANY MOONS AGO
It was early morning when the invaders struck the camp; moving through swiftly and cutting down the entire population in less than a half an hour. The Indian scouts had moved in first, scattering the horses, followed closely by the Cavalry brandishing curved swords and firing pistols; indiscriminately killing everyone the
y encountered. Bodies lie everywhere, tore to pieces and covered in blood; with buzzards moving in as the Evil ones began returning from whence they came – leaving only a few Indian scouts, with orders to kill any survivors.
The young boy was in shock, huddling closely to the, once beautiful, but now mangled body of his mother – lying dead before him – a sabre’s slash exposing her guts, which spill onto the ground into a pool of twisted intestines. The Indian toddler, on hands and knees, cries loudly – his wails becoming howls, as he shifts into a coyote cub – crying and yelping about, grieving over his mother’s lifeless body.
A lone Indian scout—having witnessed the boy turning— shouts frantically, waving his arms and dismounting his horse; intensely, frightened by the small ghostly entity. Quickly, he begins hurling multiple stones at the small cub. Hitting it abruptly, making it squeal; and chasing it away from the dead woman’s body and into the thick scrubby oaks surrounding the Indian camp – making sure it’s cleared out of sight, he remounts his horse and rides off in a gallop with dirt flying up from the hoofs of his bolting horse as they disappear from sight.
Alone the toddler waited for hours, thinking surely someone would return for him. But they never did. And so he wondered off alone; whimpering and crying as made his way into the darkness of an unknown world full of mystery and fraught with dangerous perils at every turn. He walked until his body could no longer travel; his muscle too weak from lack of food and water, and his mind becoming delirious and slowly succumbing to the animal inside – he lied on the ground and fell asleep.
“Awake, young Quan-tah.” The voice was deep and powerful, resonating inside of the boy; startling him into consciousness – his eyes opening, hoping to see the powerful square jaw of his father – But the face is not that of his father. It’s a large buffalo; who straddles over the tiny boy cub, staring down intently through large shiny black orbs. His mane is ruffled and matted, hanging loosely around a huge face; and a squared, black nose—wet and moist— sniffs with nostrils flaring.
“Me Quan-tah,” the toddler speaks, poking a small finger to his naked chest. His lips are parched and cracked, and his body covered with red scratches and small streaks of dried blood; coming from the hours spent alone traversing over the plains in the dark of the night (His little soul unknowingly shifting from the body of a less than three your old human, to that of a small coyote cub throughout the night in an attempt to survive.)
“Yes, little one, you are. And I am Sogwili Wa’Toli,” he spoke, slowly; filling the boy with the wisdom of a thousand years…
~
The strained moment is broken by the entrance of the Mayor of Rock Ridge, Alistair Finklestein; who stumbles in with his arms full of papers, some dropping to the floor as he tries to close the door, juggle papers and push his slipping round wire rimmed glasses upon his nose at the same time – even his human form looks like a weasel. “Gentlemen-gentlemen, sorry I’m late,” he stutters as he makes his way to the desk in front of Red; who watches in disgust, with the others at the obviously nervous man. He knows, what he’s been doing is wrong; and he wishes he had never gotten involved. Should have left with Martha, when I had chance, he cries to himself at night; knowing by now, she’s already made it back to Chicago and the comforts of her family. But he was afraid to leave – they’d have found him – He knows too much. Might start running his mouth; lest word get back to the elder shifters in the old countries, on what they’re trying to do here.
Looking around the room, Alistair knows… he should have left with his wife.
“Are they all there?” Kearney, questions roughly; the patience all but gone from his voice.
“Yes-yes they are,” Alistair mumbles, shuffling the stack of signed deeds; holding claim to all of the high producing mines of the area.
Red and his crew, along with Alistair, have managed to run off and kill most of the miners from their claims; supplementing them with shifter workers sent in from Washington, and now under the control of Kearney and the military. Government controlled mines; providing an endless supply of money for the New World Order.
“Let me see those,” the major commands; grabbing a handful of deeds. “Get out of my way,” he growls, pushing Alistair; who falls to the ground. There is no attempt on his part to rise; he remains still, lying on his side looking up at the major, who scans one paper after another.
“Good…Good…I like what I’m seeing,” he offers, smiling; and easing the tension of the room. He pauses, before looking down at the cowering mayor. “But I don’t like you,” he says, his smile removed.
“What, what do mean?” Alistair whimpers, beginning to crawl slowly away; with Kearney following.
“Where’d your wife go, Mayor?” he questions, following the man who wiggles away.
“She went on vacation,” he answers swiftly.
“No vacation,” Kearney advises, shaking his head and grinning. His shifting snout appears, and growls; while beginning to unbutton his shirt.
“No…You didn’t…you couldn’t have,” he whispers with the realization of the majors words.
“Couldn’t I,” Kearney responds, removing his shirt and handing it to his lieutenant; who takes the shirt with wide smile, knowing the man is doomed and there will be blood. The major had made it clear to everyone that no one was to leave, until he said it was okay to do so. “I told you, no one was to leave.”
“She just wanted to go see her folks! A little vacation, that’s all. I swear!” he screams, seeing the major turn. His badger form is huge and thick, with overly large muscle hulking out his form. In an instant, he’s on the man, ripping out his throat and gorging at his torso with razor sharp claws –and as the whole room watches in silence—the man is devoured.
For several minutes the only sound in the rooms is the blood curdling screams of the mayor and the sloshy chomping bites from the major as he consumes the man; leaving a partially eaten corpse lying on the bloody floor.
Kearney’s human form returns; kneeling over the dead man, panting and chewing, and wiping at his face trying to remove the blood.
“Well, that is that,” the major states, standing up and reaching for his shirt. “We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“Yeah. Thanks for the mess,” Red adds; not pleased that he’ll have to not only clean the place; but explain to the regular townspeople what the hell happened to their mayor. Sorry son of a bitch won’t be missed anyway.
“That’s it, then,” Kearney states; knowing the easy part is done, and that it’s time to focus on the Indians. “I’ll take these.” The deeds are stuffed into his unbuttoned shirt; which he continues to dress and tuck into his trousers. Blood still covers the thick bald head of the man as he turns for the door. “We’ll meet you and your men tomorrow night, just south of the bluffs overlooking the redskin’s camp.”
The lieutenant opens the door for Kearney who stops abruptly. “Oh, and make sure you guys show up – Don’t be going on…vacation or anything!” He laughs as he exits, slamming the door shut.
The stranger, Danny, and Old Bob watch from the boardwalk as the two officers mount their horses; and with an order from the major, ride away in a cloud of choking dust.
“You three, get in here!” Red’s guttural roar shakes the thin glass; and the three men move inside, joining him and Jasper who is throwing using a burlap bag; wiping the bloody floor under boot; before kicking it over the remains of the corpse.
“Eeew, Jesus. The Major done et’em,” Bob, sneers before giggling lightly through a crooked smile.
“Yeah – and you three can finish him up,” Red offers; just wanting the carcass, removed.
“Sure thing, boss,” Old Bob, answers without hesitation; and his large body drops to the floor over the half devoured body, tossing the sack aside and smiling. “Don’t ya’ll want some?” he asks, offering up some guts.
“Sure – I like me some weasel,” Danny accepts, tossing off his hat and untying his neckerchief, before
joining in.
“What about you?” Red sneers, with a nod of his head from the stranger to the dining pair of coyotes. “You want some?”
“Naw – I’m good. You boys enjoy. I’m kind of partial to buffalo, myself,” the stranger remarks. “Think I’ll head over to the saloon and get me a plate,” he says, with a wink, “and maybe something to wash this taste of the trail out of my mouth,” he finishes with a smile as he tucks a long strand of hair behind an ear; before pulling down the front of his hat and dismissing himself, “See you gents in a bit.” His stroll is slow, and his movements deliberate.
“Yeah…buffalo,” Red speaks softly, deep in thought as he watches the stranger walking down the boardwalk on his way to the saloon on the far side of the street. It sits a few buildings down; where a small group of restless cowboys and a couple anxious miners are already beginning to congregate out front, ready to drink with the setting of the sun – It’s also time for Red to make his own departure for his early evening rounds of the town and its activities; and of course, his own nightly visit to the Red Star–and the lovely, Miss Jessica Lilly. But, first he needs to get the boys on task.
“Bob…you and Danny can have the night off. Go get you something fresh to eat; but be back by sunrise.” He’s feeling generous; and he’s pretty sure everyone is going to need all the extra energy they can muster, over the next few days.
“Oh gee, Red; thanks!” Danny yells out, exasperated by the thought of actually being allowed to roam in form freely…It’s a whole different world; and to be able to finish it off with a good stalk and a fresh kill – the young shifter can nearly contain his self, as he and the old gimp, quickly make for the door.
Coyotes & Curves Page 3
