West of Hell Omnibus Edition (West of Hell 1-3)

by Brant, Jason

  “Will you give me your word that you won’t harm me, or any of the other passengers?”

  McCall didn’t know how to answer that. If one of them became infected he wouldn’t hesitate to take them out. “What’s your name?”

  “What?”

  McCall didn’t ask again.

  The conductor stood there, clearly flustered by the situation, his hands twisting nervously on the handle of the shovel. “Andrew – my name’s Andrew.”

  “OK, Andrew. We don’t have a lot of time here. There are some things on this train that are going to try to kill us very soon. If I wanted to hurt you, or anyone else, there isn’t a goddamn thing you could do to stop me. I could take that shovel from you right now, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

  McCall figured he would need all of the help he could get if he wanted to get the jump on the two animals in the car behind him. He hoped being honest with the little man would give him some form of trustworthiness.

  “Fair enough.” The conductor handed over the shovel and looked at his feet.

  “The woman I came on board with, is she alive?” McCall tested the strength of the shovel’s handle with his hands, trying to flex it. It seemed sturdy enough for what he had it mind.

  “The one covered in blood? They have her tied up, but that hasn’t stopped her from giving them a lot of guff. One of them looked ready to kill her.”

  McCall couldn’t help but smile at that. He had only known her for a couple of hours and she had done the same thing to him. Even as he saved her life, she couldn’t seem to help but give him a hard time. He liked a woman with spirit. Unfortunately, he had to take care of one problem at a time before he could get to her.

  “What do we need to do to disconnect the second passenger car?”

  Andrew laughed. He stopped when he noticed that Mad Dog didn’t join him. “We can’t disconnect them while the train is moving. It’s impossible.”

  “You seem like a smart man – figure something out.”

  “I’m not kidding. The train has to come to a full stop in order to disconnect them. The weight pulling on the coupler while we’re moving is too great.”

  “Shit.” McCall paced around the tiny car as he tried to come up with a different plan. Though he would have preferred to disconnect the infected car from the rest of the train, he knew that the moaners were too stupid to open doors. If no one went back into the second car, they wouldn’t be able to get out. He hoped.

  “I need your help with something else then. I’m going to climb onto the roof and walk to the back of the car. I need you to go in the front door and get one of them to follow you back here.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “I don’t care. Tell them the door to the furnace is stuck and you need someone to open it.”

  “Well, what if—”

  “If you want to live through this then you’ll do what I say.” McCall turned and opened the door, not giving Andrew time to argue further. “Give me a minute to reach the other end of the car and then go get one of them.”

  Andrew took a deep breath from behind him. “OK.”

  McCall went outside into the oppressive heat and tried his best to scramble silently onto the roof. Less than a minute later, he positioned himself above the back end of the car, with the shovel held down between the cars, ready to tap on the door.

  He heard the conductor go in and then reemerge, hopefully with Jones or Evans behind him. After a count to five, he tapped on the door with the handle and lifted the shovel above his head, ready to smash it into the face of whoever emerged.

  The door opened and McCall swung.

  Chapter 4

  A thud on the roof toward the back of the car stopped Jones in mid-sentence.

  He moved in a flash, drawing his pistol and cocking the hammer in one smooth motion. Evans speed nearly equaled his partner’s as he did the same beside Jones. They stood in silence, waiting for something to come through the door.

  Jones had been describing the horror he had seen in the other car when they heard the thud. Everyone looked at him in disbelief with only Karen knowing that he told the truth. Even Evans had an incredulous look on his face. Now they all stared at the backdoor, their doubts forgotten.

  “You have to shoot them in the head,” Karen said.

  “Shut up, bitch,” Evans said over his shoulder. “We know how to kill someone.”

  “You’ll only waste your bullets if you hit them anywhere but the head.”

  “Say one more word, and I’ll shoot you in the head.”

  Karen struggled to keep her mouth shut, but figured it better to bide her time. If she ever got loose, she planned on showing these bastards a thing or two. She might be a woman and a prostitute, which made her nothing in their eyes, but she knew her intelligence most likely doubled theirs. If she lived long enough, she would figure out a way to make them pay.

  Everyone listened, waiting for another thud that never came. Jones kept his gun at the ready, but turned back to Evans and continued his story. “I ain’t lyin’ – they’re eating each other back there.”

  Evans shook his head. “You’re just spooked because we’re a little behind schedule and the plan ain’t going the way you wanted.”

  “I am spooked, damn it! That boy was eating someone!” Jones turned back to Karen. “You tell me what’s going on back there or I’ll start cutting pieces of you off.”

  “I already told you, idiot. It’s some kind of disease.”

  “A disease that makes people eat each other? I never heard of no such thing,” Jones said.

  Evans snorted and holstered his pistol.

  Karen sat there and returned Jones’ glare. She didn’t give a shit if he believed her or not. With McCall dead, she felt her will to live ebbing. Odd as it was, he felt like the last connection to her old life. The loss of her friends grew in her heart as she sat here and thought about everything that had happened overnight.

  “I’m sorry young lady, but no one is buying the story you’re trying to sell.” The old man stood from his seat and gave her a sad look, as if he felt sorry for her.

  “Sounds like a bunch of hogwash to me,” his wife chimed in.

  “Shut up, you old bitty.” Evans pushed his hat further back on his head and nodded at Jones. “Just keep your wits about you. We’re going to be at the Tartarus soon and then we’re out of here.”

  Twice now, Karen had heard them mention getting to the Tartarus River. What did they have planned? Clearly they had kept themselves in separate cars to keep an eye on everything on the train, but to what end? She didn’t believe she could handle any more surprises. Today was the first time in her life she wished to be back at Ellis’ saloon, saddling up with smelly men.

  “Stop telling me to stay calm! There was a man back there attacking some lady.”

  “So?” Evans asked. His casual attitude about the situation told Karen that death didn’t have the same stigma with him as it did everyone else.

  “When I came up here the first time he was dead. He bled out in his chair with his throat torn away while I took care of McCall. When I went back there just now, he was walking around.”

  “Well I guess he ain’t dead then, is he?” Evans waived his hand in Jones direction in a dismissive gesture.

  “I forgot to mention that,” Karen said. “When you die you apparently come back as one of them.”

  That got everyone’s attention. The boys in the back looked like they could break out in tears. Their lips trembled and they pushed back against their mother, trying to hide their eyes. The mother’s face was a mask of anger.

  “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut! As if we aren’t dealing with enough! Why do you keep saying such lies?”

  Karen ignored her. “I don’t know if you need to be attacked by one of those things first or not, but I saw it with my own eyes. Two separate people, that were definitely dead, came after me last night.”

  The old man watched her closely. “You�
��re telling us the dead are rising?”

  “Yes.”

  Evans crossed the car in a handful of angry strides and pulled his fist back to punch her. “I told you to shut up.”

  The door beside Karen opened and the conductor came in, his head bowed in submission. Evans held his hand in its cocked position, but looked at the small man. The conductor cleared his throat and loosened his bowtie.

  “I, uh, need some help in the engine car.”

  “Why?” Evans temper had risen to the point that his voice sounded like one continuous growl.

  “The, uh, temperature converter is stuck and, uh, I’m not strong enough to fix it.” He cleared his throat again. Sweat stood out on his forehead and he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  Karen watched him closely, confused about his odd behavior. He had been scared of these men before, but not to this extent. And what the hell is a temperature converter? She certainly wasn’t an expert on steam locomotives, but she didn’t think a temperature converter could be found anywhere on this train.

  What was he up to?

  Evans looked back at Karen, obviously contemplating if he should hit her. She stared back, defiant to the end. He seemed to think better of it, much to her surprise, and dropped his fist.

  “Make it fast, little man,” Evans said. “I think I’m going to have a good time with the little whore here.”

  The conductor looked like he wanted to say something else, but kept quiet. Evans stepped away from Karen and followed him through the door and out of the car. Karen sat on the floor and began working at her bindings once again, wincing as they sliced into her wrists. The conductor was up to something and she wanted to be prepared for whatever it could be.

  Someone knocked on the backdoor.

  Karen’s heart raced in her chest and she sat ramrod straight, her senses sharpening. With everyone in the other car being turned into one of those things, who could be knocking at the door? Had someone managed to escape? She worked at freeing her hands in earnest.

  Jones spun toward the back of the car and aimed his gun once again. He took a few tentative steps forward and reached for the handle. His hand stopped a few inches away and he looked back at everyone else in the car, raising his finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. He angled his ear toward the door and listened, evidently hearing nothing.

  The realization hit Karen like a slap to the face – it was McCall. The timing of the conductor taking Evans from the car and the taps at the door were too perfect. Somehow, McCall had survived and now worked with the conductor in some kind of plan to rescue Karen and the others.

  Jones opened the door and looked out. From her position, Karen could see past him and out the door, but didn’t see anyone there. A shovel swung from above the door and smashed into Jones’ face, sending him tumbling into the aisle, his gun flying through the air. It landed in one of the empty seats with a soft thump.

  McCall jumped into view, landing in the doorway of the car, the shovel in his hand. He gave the room a quick scan and briefly locked eyes with Karen. After a brief nod, he stalked toward the fallen Jones, holding the handle of the shovel with both hands. Jones was motionless on the floor, his nose a bloody mess.

  Mad Dog stood over him, trying to see if he was awake. He gave Jones a small kick to the ribs and got no reaction.

  “He told me that he killed you!” Karen said. The emotion in her voice took her by surprise. She had only known this man for a matter of hours and already felt an attachment to him.

  “It’s going to take a lot more than—”

  The front door opened and Evans stepped into the room, stopping in mid-stride when he saw McCall. He reached for his pistol and drew it with such speed that Karen could barely perceive the motion. McCall dove behind a section of seats just as the bullets started flying.

  Karen’s left hand pulled free of the wire. She kept it behind her back, not wanting Evans to see that she was about to become a new threat to him. He stomped past her, pursuing McCall and shooting through the seats. As soon as he passed her, Karen attacked the knot that bound her legs.

  One of Evans’ shots punched through a seat and slammed into the mother’s shoulder. It missed the younger boy’s head by inches, blowing his thin hair up as it whizzed past. The mother cried out and clutched at her shoulder, falling back into her seat.

  McCall sprang up and jumped over the seats behind him, trying to get some distance between him and Evans. The mother screamed in agony and stumbled into the aisle between Evans and McCall. Evans grabbed her by the hair and threw her out of his way.

  Karen managed to free her legs and jumped up, feeling a bit dizzy as she did. Evans’ gun clicked empty as she moved behind him and he turned just in time to see her sprinting toward him. She barreled into his chest, sending both of them sprawling into the back of the car.

  McCall jumped from his hiding place and grabbed at Evans’ gun hand, slamming it off the floor. Karen kneed him in the groin twice, feeling great satisfaction when he released the gun and curled into a ball on the floor.

  Mad Dog picked up the pistol and stuffed it into his belt before moving over to Jones’ unconscious body and searching it for a weapon as well. When he didn’t find anything he turned back and grinned at Karen.

  “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like being called a bitch.” She nodded at Jones’ body. “His gun flew over—”

  A click from behind McCall wiped the smile from his face. Karen looked past him and saw the elderly man pointing Jones’ pistol at McCall’s back. He wore a stern expression and didn’t seem to be intimidated by the legendary outlaw before him – at least not when he had iron in his hands.

  “Stay where you are.”

  McCall turned around, making sure to keep his hands plainly visible to the old man. Karen stood and moved beside him, also keeping her body in the man’s field of vision.

  “I’ve had all I can take of criminal shits like you today. If you so much as blink, I’m going to empty this out in your belly.”

  “You’re a little confused about the situation,” Karen said. “We aren’t the bad guys here.”

  The man’s wife stood up beside him and wagged her finger at them. “We know all about the infamous Mad Dog McCall. You can’t fool us.”

  The mother behind them cried out again, pleading for help. Her children finally broke out of their shocked states and bawled incoherently. Karen looked at them over her shoulder, careful not to move her hands too much. The boys huddled around their mother, afraid to touch her blood covered clothes.

  “Let me help them,” Karen said, turning back to the elderly couple.

  The old man’s resolve seemed to waiver for a moment as he thought about what to do next. His wife looked at him and they exchanged a knowing glance, passing information between them with mere eye contact as only a long married couple can.

  “You can keep the gun on me, but please allow me to help her.”

  The old man gave her a nod. “Go ahead, but don’t try any funny business. Ethel will help you.” He gestured with the pistol, and Ethel took a tentative step toward Karen.

  “We need to tie these two up,” McCall said. “That one is faking it.” He pointed at Evans who now stayed motionless in the aisle.

  Evans’ body language told Karen that he had already recovered quite a bit of his strength. His knees were no longer curled into his chest. He lifted his head and gave McCall an icy glare when he heard his name.

  “I suspect I need to tie all three of you up,” the old man said.

  “There isn’t enough wire for all of us. In fact, why don’t you let me throw them out of here? We’ll all be a lot safer.”

  “There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you kill a man in cold blood.”

  Karen tried to listen to the two of them go back and forth as she bent down in front of the mother. Blood pooled beneath her, running freely from her bullet wound. Ethel knelt beside them and began soothing the bo
ys, brushing their hair back from their foreheads and speaking to them in hushed tones.

  The amount of blood on the floor concerned Karen. She didn’t have a lot time to get the wound closed before she bled to death. A gunshot to the shoulder could usually be stopped, but Karen didn’t like the look of this one.

  Her own dress was drenched in blood, some of which probably came from the infected, so she didn’t want to use a swath of it to plug the wound. She got both hands on the woman’s sleeve and tore it free.

  The mother looked up at her with confused eyes, not understanding why Karen chose this time to destroy her clothing. Karen felt the bizarre desire to laugh. Her fatigue was worse than she initially thought.

  “I’m going to press this down on your shoulder – it should help with the bleeding.”

  The boys continued crying, but they were a little quieter. Ethel continued to work at calming them down and made progress a little at a time. Karen was glad to have her helping, even though she could see the elderly woman keeping a sharp eye on her as she worked.

  “What are their names?” Karen asked the mother.

  The woman struggled to swallow before answering. “The oldest is Mark. Stephen is the littlest.”

  “Stephen, Mark, why don’t you give your mom a little quiet and go to your seats?” Karen tried to sound as if everything was fine. “I’m going to take care of her.”

  The boys didn’t stop crying, but allowed Ethel to lead them over to their seats.

  “Listen to me, damn it! If we don’t get them tied up before this other asshole wakes up we’re going to be in a world o’ hurt!” McCall stood in front of the old man, not giving an inch in spite of the gun pointed at his chest. “You can stand right behind me with the gun in my back if you want, but we need to take care of them right now.”

  “William, I think he’s right,” Ethel said from beside the boys. “It will be a little easier to control one outlaw than three.”

  Old man William considered it for a few more seconds before finally consenting and stepping aside. He backed into one of the seat aisles and motioned for McCall to walk past him. He followed Mad Dog to the front of the car where he picked up the coils of rope that had previously held Karen.