The Shadow Town (An Evan Ryder Weird Western)

by J. W. Bradley

  THE SHADOW TOWN

  AN EVAN RYDER WEIRD WESTERN

  J.W. BRADLEY

  COPYRIGHT 2012 Dark and Stormy Tales Inc. and J.W. Bradley

  All rights reserved. The Lost Templar, W.E.r.d., Gideon Clark, and Evan Ryder are trademarks of Dark and Stormy Tales Inc.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from the copyright owner.

  Note to the readers,

  While each Evan Ryder adventure is a self contained story, they are meant to be read in order. The Shadow Town takes place six years after events in The Shadow Trail.

  1

  The girl watched the road into town. A full autumn moon above reflected deeply in her vibrant hazel eyes. She had been told to be in bed, but tonight, like many nights before it, she could not resist the siren call of the bright, glowing orb in the otherwise dark sky.

  Her hair matched the color of her eyes, except for a gossamer thin line of silver that flowed back from the center of her delicate forehead. Ryder had told her it was a parting gift from her father but Nina didn’t want to hear it, because as long as she could remember, Evan Ryder had been the only father she ever knew. Of course that wasn’t long according to him. Six years, but not the same six years normal folks knew. He said she aged differently from them, faster. Ryder had said it wasn’t fair, but it was how it was and how it would be. Sometimes he talked that way, matter of fact like. But she knew it was just how he dealt with her peculiar situation and usually he pointed out there had been advantages too. Like how she was smarter and stronger than a normal child her age. She could ride a horse better than the best rodeo man and run near as fast as his horse could too. And she could climb, oh boy could she. Like right now, here she was, up high on a tin roof, two stories tall and quiet as a mouse. She was watching for those men that had been following them ever since they left east Texas. They were members of some secret cult, Ryder had explained, supposedly keeping order when things took a decidedly supernatural turn. He told her they considered her to be such a turn, whatever that meant.

  Ryder knew they were there because he was smart and she knew because she could smell them. She smelled then way back near the river when one of their horses took a big shit right there beside it. The tangy scent had hit her on the morning breeze from a mile away and when she looked at Ryder wide eyed he was looking back at her with that smirk she loved so much, the one that made her feel safe and he said, “Well it’s about time.” She had wrinkled her nose at him in a mock scowl and rolled her eyes. He was always one step ahead of her on things and she hoped to fix that one day, make him proud, figure things out in her head. But for now she’d use those special gifts he said she had and try to keep him safe too.

  She got a whiff of a burning cheroot and looked down the road, widening her eyes and taking in all the available light. There was one man, riding a horse slow, right down the middle of the road. He was a dark shadow amidst other darker shadows, but Nina could make him out just fine. He rode with his hat pulled down and the collar of a long black coat turned up tight around his face only the burning end of his smoke sticking out. She slipped backwards, toward the window, intending to wake and warn Ryder, but then she froze. Ryder was there! In the woods, off the trail and he had that odd teakwood shoot to his lips. When the man passed him, Nina heard a quick, quiet pfft sound and then the man toppled from the horse quick as you please. In an instant, Ryder was on the road, grabbing the reigns of the horse and dragging both it and the unconscious man into the dark woods. After a few moments Ryder came back into view and looked to where she was crouching down. He shook his head disapprovingly, but then Nina saw his mouth break into a wide toothy grin and he waved her down to the forest’s edge. She scampered to the ground and, wraith-like, made her way to his side.

  2

  I scowled in disapproval as Nina neared me, but inwardly I approved of her eager and inquisitive nature. Her lithe form, almost loping across the road, was hard to pick out in the darkness. The subtle way she covered ground was a trait spawned of her supernatural heritage. Six years ago I had rescued her from the clutches of a demonic woman on Little Mountain in Texas. It had been her mother alright, but not human in any way that counted.

  “I see you’re not in bed.”

  “Oh Ryder you know I just can’t sleep some nights, and more so now than ever with these men following us.” She stared down excitedly at the man I had drug into the bush and I knew that those wide eyes of hers were taking in more than mine ever could with just the moon light filtering through the trees.

  Without another scolding word I squatted next to the unconscious man and pulled the high collar away from his face. He had a graying beard and a huge beak of a nose, not inconspicuous at all and I was certain I had never seen him before.

  “He smells funny.”

  “Does he?” I hadn’t noticed any strong odor emanating from the man but I had learned to trust Nina’s almost preternatural senses. Pulling open the coat further, I exposed the tiny barb from my blowgun and was satisfied with its location lodged in the soft flesh below his ear. I put away the hand carved teakwood shoot, a curiosity I had picked up on a recent hunting trip to South America. It was something I had been hoping to have a chance to try out.

  Remembering the smell, I opened the man’s coat and pulled out a small leather sack. Now even I could smell its contents. I identified the potent scent of ammonia mixed with other powerful olfactory agents. Suddenly a thought struck me like a lightning bolt from a blue, cloudless sky but Nina was already reaching for the sack, intrigued by its odor.

  “Nina-wait!” But it was too late, she grabbed the bag and it burst open as I belated realized it was designed to do. Tiny frost colored crystals spilled out and immediately a burning sensation shot up through my nose and my eyes began to water uncontrollably. Nina, with her extraordinary senses, shrieked in pain and flung herself away from the prone man. In fact, the bag’s contents were so potent, the stranger’s eyes flew open and he regained consciousness with startling suddenness just as the spilt crystals dribbled across his face.

  “Ryder! I can’t see!” Nina was wiping at her eyes frantically. She was on her feet and stepping away from me backwards, into the surrounding woods.

  “Nina, don’t move, I’m here.” Even as I motioned her back to where I was kneeling, the man on the ground was reaching to draw his gun from the holster on his belt. I was quicker and had my trusty Iroquois revolver pressed to his temple in one swift motion. “Nina, it’s a trap.” My voice sounded calmer than I felt and I spoke in a whisper because I knew that she would still hear me. “Run into the woods. Run far, I will find you.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The man grumbled from the ground. “We let you raise her, she belongs with us now.”

  “You didn’t let me do anything sir. I know more about your secret organization than you would ever believe. If you had posed a danger to us, I would have…stopped you.”

  He laughed down the barrel of my gun. “Why don’t you stop us now Evan Ry-”

  “Very well.” I snatched up a handful of the spilt crystals and shoved them in his chattering mouth. As I stood back up, he began snorting and gagging at my feet. I resisted the urge to give him a swift kick in the belly and turned my attention to Nina. She was clearly in distress, her hands covering her face as she was struggling to overcome the effects of the ammonia concoction.

  There was a sharp glint of steal in the moonlight behind Nina and a large shadow rose up suddenly behind her, seeming to envelope the small girl. My revolver came up as a man materialized from the shadows, squeezing Nina in a monstr
ous crushing bear hug. He held a deadly looking Bowie knife in one meaty paw.

  “Put down yer gun or I will cut off this gel’s head.” The man spoke in a whisper, but his Irish Brogue washed over me like the cold wind off a foggy moor.

  So the “men in dark coats”, the agent’s of the mysterious society going by the acronym W.E.r.d., that I had stumbled upon six years ago almost to the day, finally had us cornered. Or did they? I didn’t appreciate the feeling of being bested but I had to fight to keep an evil smile from curling up the sides of my mouth as a thought occurred to me. This bunch might have been powerful and secretive, but my studies had also shown them to be rather righteous and Godly in most things. I would make use of that fact, now.

  I lowered my gun in a show of acquiescence…then pulled the trigger. The man on the ground gave out a satisfying yelp of pain as the bullet entered his leg, lodging itself in the meaty part of the thigh. As the big Irishman’s eyes widened and snapped to his companion in shock I took two quick strides toward him and pressed the barrel of my Iroquois firmly against the tip of his nose.

  “Release Nina.”

  “Ah…” I don’t know what the man was planning to say next, because the knife had not moved from Nina’s throat and I was out of patience. With my left hand I reached out and squeezed his bent elbow in such a way that sprung his hand open like a blossoming flower. The knife fell to the ground.

  I pulled Nina behind me, pleased to see that she was finally recovering from the ammonia trap.

  “Ryder!” Carter Maynes was bellowing into the night. We had been staying at my friend and fellow Pinkerton Detective’s homestead these last two nights. Suddenly his big, cantankerous form came crashing through the woods like a wounded buffalo and pulled up short at the sight of us, a long menacing shotgun aimed before him. “So, they finally decided to come for the girl.” He turned to the red bearded Irishman. “You’re trespassing mister. I suggest you pick up your wounded friend and head out.”

  “Now hold on!” It was the man on the ground, he spoke through clenched teeth, his voice weighted down with pain as he clutched tightly at his wounded leg. “The girl ain’t the whole reason we’re here.” Then he unexpectedly pointed at me. “It’s you Evan Ryder, our boss said to bring you in and he made it sound as if we needed your services and not to hurt you.”

  “My fat arse we do.” The Irishman said. “We’ve been following this kook for a week and he’s barely a man, washing up all pretty almost every day! Making fancy food on the open trail. Walks about like he’s got a cork up his backside.”

  “That’s quite enough. Ryder had the two of you in a pretty pinch not a full minute ago. So don’t go putting the man down.” Carter was defending me with gusto but I couldn’t appreciate it then because I was distracted by a new, sly gleam in the Irishman’s eye.

  “Ryder, there’s another one.” Nina whispered to me as she stood huddled at my side. “On the road.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” Turning to look through the trees, I saw a man on horseback watching us. Both he and the horse were perfectly still and deathly silent.

  “Look, I’m bleedin’ somewhat bad and it ain’t slowing down.” The wounded man said.

  “Carter, kindly watch these two.” I slipped through the trees and in a calculating fashion, slipped the Iroquois back into its holster. Once on the road I could see the mounted man more clearly and I felt my breath catch in my throat because, for a moment, I swore I was looking at a ghost.

  Six years ago I came across the savaged corpse of an Indian tracker the spitting image of the one sitting before me now. His name had been Benjamin Hoot and he had been killed by the supernatural wretch of a woman who was Nina’s mother. I had already met one ghost during that dark misadventure so I knew not to make any premature assumptions, but the man revealed in moonlight looked real enough and I wasn’t under the influence of powerful juju like I had been before.

  “I can tell by your reaction that you met my brother.” The man raised an eyebrow and swung down from the saddle easily. On the ground, he was short and diminutive, something even the tall stovepipe hat on his head couldn’t compensate for. Long, raven black hair draped a good foot down behind his shoulders. His attire was so dark that he fairly blended in with the night.

  We shook hands in a friendly manner, and I felt my nerves finally begin to settle down. “I’m afraid I was too late to know his company. I’m sorry.”

  “Yes well, that is the way of things in our line of work. My name is Franklin. Franklin Hoot and yes I am all too aware that my brother’s name was Benjamin. It seems my mother had more respect for the Republic than the Republic had for our old way of life.” He snorted out a quiet humorless laugh. “She took to books and history in order to prepare us for the changing world.”

  Hoot grimaced as the others emerged from the woods. “The big one is Michael Roy and the wounded one he is carrying is Jasper Jenkins. Not much better than hired guns I am afraid.” He whispered this last part to me discreetly.

  “Ryder!” Carter Maynes was mopping at his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his nightshirt. “I’ll take these two into the house and do what I can. As you know Mary is in town at her sister’s, thank God, but she’s due back by noon tomorrow so I want them all gone by sunrise.” Mary was his wife of equally formidable girth and presence, lending credit to his threat.

  “Of course Carter.”

  From the corner of my eye, I picked out Nina crouched in the shadows beside the road, watching us. Hoot must have seen her too. “Family now Mr. Ryder?”

  I smiled despite the night’s grim circumstances. “Too true Mr. Hoot, too true.”

  3

  Nina watched as Carter expertly clean the injured man’s leg wound, her guts churning with just a little joy at the memory of Ryder’s fierce defense of her.

  He doesn’t like me calling him Pa or father, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true, she thought.

  The big, bearded one had gone out to smoke and she was glad. That one was trouble, the hair on his face and wrinkles in his skin smelled like old booze, the stuff that made some men weak in the head. She had seen Ryder drink it though and it hadn’t seemed to make him stupid like the others. She’d never tell anyone but Nina had felt like slicing the big man’s belly open as it had pressed against her earlier, wanted it more than anything, and maybe she would have done it if Ryder hadn’t got her free.

  Then she looked down at the short nails on her delicate hand and remembered Ryder kept them clipped constantly using some tool from the barn. Her teeth he had to work on too. He told her they didn’t grow like the other girl’s did, so he filed them down straight across regularly and that was something she liked. They were much more pretty that way.

  “Nina, please check the soup on the stove.” Carter instructed without looking up from the man’s leg.

  She went to the large pot and lifted the lid. Inside, pork bits and corn kernels languished in a lake of hearty broth.

  “Looks about ready Mr. Maynes.”

  “Thank you dear. Now let Ryder and the other’s know.”

  Nina knew that Ryder and the Indian fellow were on the porch, sitting in Carter’s oversized rocking chairs and talking in a secretive manner. At the last moment she decided to crawl beneath the front window and listen in a bit before calling them to eat.

  “It is true what our leaders suspected, you have us almost at a disadvantage. Something tells me you may know more about W.E.r.d. than I do. For instance, even though our order is as old as time itself, our name, it was coined not all that long ago by some writer from England. He is now one of us of course.”

  “Hmmm. Watchful Eyes Revealing the Darkness, that’s a mouthful.”

  “That comes from another age.” Nina peeked over the sill and watched as the Indian pulled out a small ax, she knew it was called a tomahawk, but this one was different, beautiful, glossy, and the stone was dark as obsidian. He began slowly running a stone over its killing edge. It looked ancient, lik
e something described in one of the H. Rider Haggard novels Ryder let her read. “Mr. Ryder, I will not pretend that those in power don’t have a keen interest in your girl. She’s not just some result of Navajo witchcraft. There is something of dark purpose in her. Some say it may be the Devil himself, from your Holy Bible.” Hoot said.

  Nina’s eyes widened at hearing this and it took all her power to keep from charging outside and screaming that it wasn’t true.

  “Easy there Franklin, I know you’re well versed in what you speak of but you’re talking about someone I’ve spent a lot of time with. There’s not a bit of evil in her heart, let alone evil like anything of Biblical proportions. So I won’t accept that argument. Your group means to use her plain and simple. And while it may be for a good cause, I won’t let you take her.” Ryder paused then Nina heard him sip something, probably his usual tea, from a cup. “At least not until she can decide on her own.”

  “That time is fast approaching. She will be a woman soon.”

  “Yes, but not in all ways. She’s still a babe when it comes to the world. It’s one of the most painful disadvantages of her unnatural aging.” Ryder spoke in a whisper.

  “I will not be the one to tear your family asunder Mr. Ryder, but I cannot promise you others will not come after me. Unless…”

  “I help you…perhaps Nina and I together.”

  The Indian laughed then. “And so we come to it. I am a man short now after all, thanks to you.” She knew he referred to the man Ryder had shot, Jenkins.

  Ryder rocked back in his chair and stayed in that position. “I’ll take some time away from the Pinkerton Agency. Hell I’m due anyway. I figure there’s something specific you have in mind, I trust it won’t take too long. Then I’ll take Nina to the family ranch for a time, she loves it there.”

  “And it’s a place you will not have to look over your shoulder every day.”