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

Page 21

by Brant, Jason


  He stood on the outskirts of Sheol for ten minutes, trying to decide the best way to proceed. The man in the wagon hadn’t recognized him, but that was no guarantee that his notoriety hadn’t spread to this city. He’d never been this far west and he hoped that his reputation hadn’t either.

  The building closest to him appeared to be the shop of a blacksmith, judging by the sounds coming from it and the black smoke escaping its chimney. Across the first street was a saloon that looked to be fairly busy, considering the time of day. The building beside it was a store of some kind and McCall decided to avoid it after what happened in Gehenna. Getting arrested here would be a death sentence. He didn’t consider himself a superstitious man, but he didn’t want to tempt fate either way.

  He kept his head down and walked across the street, trying to stay away from the busy saloon. People milled about, walking along the wood planks that connected the porches of the separate buildings. Several of them gasped as he walked by, taking in his blood-soaked visage.

  When he found the stream in the woods he should have washed off the blood that dried as it had ran from his nose, but he forgot as he drank from it. Now he stuck out like a sore thumb, and the further he walked, the more people stopped and gawked at him. Karen wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.

  Carrying a double-barreled shotgun down the street didn’t help him blend in either. Only a handful of men had pistols on their hips. He finally got tired of the stares and ducked into an alley. Several horses were tied to a post behind the nearest building, with a water trough sitting on the ground in front of them.

  He dunked his hands in the grimy water and splashed it on his face, scrubbing at the dried blood. The horses ignored him as he worked at cleaning himself, and went about their busy day of staring at the wall. After getting the grime off his hands, he dunked his entire head in the water, scrubbing at his hair and scalp.

  People were watching him from the other end of the alley when he pulled his head clear. He glared back at them while he rubbed his hands over his head, slicking his hair back.

  “Hangover,” he said with a shrug.

  They bobbed their heads in understanding and moved on. McCall grabbed the shotgun and walked down a secondary street that ran parallel to the main drag. There were more houses back there, and less people walking around. An old, white-haired woman sat in a rocking chair on the porch of what looked to be an ancient house. The amount of wrinkles on her face made her look as aged as her home.

  He waved as he approached and did his best to seem nonchalant. “Howdy,” he said with a smile.

  She didn’t reciprocate.

  “I was wondering if you could point me to the sheriff.”

  The old woman looked him up and down, studying every inch of his tall frame. “Why ya got blood all over ya?”

  “I was hunting,” McCall said. He held up his shotgun as if that was evidence. “Just got done cleaning my kills.”

  “Hunting’s illegal in Sheol,” she said bluntly.

  All he needed was a simple answer, but now he was being berated by a woman that could have been alive when Jesus was born. And how in the hell could hunting be illegal? Where did all of these people get their food? He had seen some farmland as he approached the city, but nothing large enough to feed the entire population.

  “Uh, I was hunting in the forest over there,” McCall said. He glanced in the direction he’d come from.

  “Hunting’s illegal in them woods too.”

  McCall ran out of lies and had no idea how to proceed from there, so he fumbled with his shotgun, trying to think of something quickly.

  “I won’t tell anyone, dear,” she said, finally giving him a smile. “That’s gotta be the stupidest law I ever heard of.”

  She had a thick accent that he couldn’t place, and he struggled to follow everything she said. Now that he thought about it, the man that he’d run across in the field had an entirely different way of speaking than she did. Sheol appeared to be the home of people from all over the country.

  “That it is, ma’am. Man’s gotta eat.”

  “He sure do.” She raised her ancient arm and pointed off to her right, toward the main street. “Sheriff is usually in the jail, down yonder.”

  “Thank you,” McCall said, and started walking past her.

  “He’s a bad man though,” she said as he went by. “Be careful with him.”

  McCall looked over his shoulder at her, wondering exactly what she meant by that, but not having time to stop and dig deeper. “I’ll do that, thanks.”

  He didn’t like the fact that a citizen of the town had just warned him about the sheriff, especially knowing that Karen would be in his custody. Now he hoped that this ‘bad’ man, whoever he was, hadn’t done something rash with her already.

  After reaching the main street, McCall turned right and walked with his head down again, shifting his eyes back and forth as people went past. They stared at him less, but he still wasn’t able to blend in the way he liked. More than once he saw people pointing at him and whispering to someone else. Many of them had small bellies or double chins – the kind McCall had rarely seen in his travels. Usually only the extremely wealthy had such copious amounts of fat around them.

  He passed more shops and many more bars. The town seemed to have some kind of drinking problem, as most of them were full of drunken, rowdy fools. He wanted a stiff drink, but he knew his stomach couldn’t handle it, even if he had the time to stop and have one. A fight erupted in one of the saloons as he walked past, and he could see a chair flying by the open door. Didn’t these people have work to do?

  The jail was another block further and he slowed his pace as he approached it. It sat on the other side of the street, so he crossed before anyone inside would be able to see him through the windows. The door on the front of the building stood ajar so he quickly moved past the first window and peered inside.

  There were more cells in this jail than the one he’d been imprisoned in back in Gehenna. All of them were empty. McCall took a tentative step inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darker room. A desk sat on the right side of the office. There was a black hat sitting on top of it with a metal star in the middle.

  McCall picked up the hat and tore the star free, tossing it onto the desk. He pulled it down on his head and adjusted the brim. Now he could move around the streets with a tad more secrecy as people wouldn’t be able to make out most of his features.

  But where was Karen? The man in the wagon said she’d been arrested, but she wasn’t here. He didn’t like the idea of approaching too many more people in the town and asking questions, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Drawing attention to himself didn’t seem like a good idea, but it was the only one he had.

  He walked back outside and looked down both sides of the street, trying to decide his next move. A boy ran down the middle of the road to his left, hollering at the passersby as he went. If McCall knew Karen at all, he figured this could have something to do with her. She could stir up trouble like no one else he’d ever met. Most people who were arrested sat in their cells and stewed, but he just couldn’t see her doing that.

  “There’s a hanging going on right now!” the boy yelled.

  McCall stepped into the street and put a hand up, stopping him. “Who’s getting stretched?”

  The boy slid to a stop in the dirt, staring wide-eyed at the man in black before him. His throat worked in exaggerated gulps as he tried to speak.

  “Some woman,” he said. “No one knows her except the sheriff. He says she’s a murderer! And she did come into town with James’ little kid.”

  “Which way to the gallows?” McCall asked, grabbing the boy’s shoulder.

  “Back that way.” The boy pointed toward the direction he’d come from before taking off again, yelling about Karen’s appointment with the hangman.

  McCall broke into a run, swearing under his breath.

  Chapter 4

  Everyone walking
down the street stopped and stared as the sheriff and two deputies paraded Karen around.

  Her mind still reeled at the thought of Evans being the sheriff. He’d told her how he pulled it off, but she struggled to understand how this town could be so secluded that one man could restrict the knowledge flowing in and out of it. It seemed implausible, yet here he was, commanding his own small group of lawmen. Knowing that he arrested, and likely killed, everyone that questioned him must have been a big motivator for everyone to look the other direction. Fear could be the greatest of motivators.

  She didn’t know how to handle the situation with the moaners either. Evans had seen them and knew what was happening out there. Yet he didn’t seem concerned at all. What could his agenda be? She knew for certain that he couldn’t believe the town could withstand the coming onslaught without some kind of warning. He said he wanted to watch the fall of Sheol, though what he would do after that remained a mystery to her.

  Letting everyone know of their impending doom was clearly the right thing to do, but she hesitated, fearing Evans’ retaliation on Stephen. If she spoke up and tried to warn someone, they wouldn’t believe her anyway. She had tried to explain to the passengers on the train and they dismissed her outright. No one wanted to hear about the dead rising and consuming everyone around them.

  But if she couldn’t convince anyone of what was coming, Stephen would die anyway, eaten alive by a monster. No matter what choice she made, she felt damned. If she spoke up, Evans would kill the boy. If she didn’t, they would all die a horrific death.

  They stopped walking for a moment when Evans began talking to a striking blonde that passed by. His hands moved about in animated motions as he spoke to her. They both stopped and glared at Karen, as if he’d told her about some terrible crime Karen had committed.

  “Hey Evans,” Karen said.

  “What do you want, whore?” Evans spat on the ground.

  “Shut the fuck up.” She tried to sneer at him, but the shock on the woman’s face made her laugh instead.

  Evans stomped across the distance between them in two strides and backhanded her. Pain exploded in her right eye, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing it. Instead, she smiled up at him.

  “You’re foul,” the blonde woman said, curling her upper lip in disgust at Karen.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Karen said.

  “Get her down to the judge.” Evans looked like he wanted to slap her again.

  Deputy Mike’s grip tightened around her arm, making her wince, and he shoved her forward. Gary walked beside them, waving people out of the way as they walked down the street again. Evans stayed behind them in silence, no doubt watching her every move.

  They arrived at a nondescript building with a faded sign out front that read ‘COURTHOUSE’ above the front door. Evans moved past them, taking the lead, and shoved his way through the door. Its rusted hinges squealed in protest.

  Karen had never seen such a dilapidated government building before. They were typically the nicest places in a city, with furnishings well beyond what the average citizen could afford. This place looked like it could collapse in on itself at any point.

  Mike pushed her through the door with a grunt and guided her straight down the middle of the building. She was reminded of Doc Randy’s church in Gehenna. The courthouse had a similar setup with several rows of seating on either side of a center aisle. Instead of a pulpit at the head of the room, a large, elevated desk stood above everything else. No one sat in the chair behind it.

  They stopped ten feet in front of the desk and waited. Evans turned back to Karen, his eyes practically glowing in anticipation. She thought he looked like a child waking up on Christmas morning. Karen could see Gary’s face out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem nearly as excited about the situation. She thought he might even be a bit disgusted, though she couldn’t be sure.

  “This is going to be fun,” Evans’ said. He looked quickly at the deputies and his smile faltered for a millisecond. His enthusiasm didn’t extend to them and Karen could see a flash of anger on his face before the grin came back. “The judge isn’t what you would call... forgiving.”

  “You’re in deep shit,” Mike’s deep voice whispered from over her shoulder. Evans didn’t hear it. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

  A door opened behind the desk as if on cue, and an old, gaunt, wild-eyed man stepped through it. He wore a black robe, but it didn’t look like anything she’d ever seen on a judge before. It looked more like the attire of an executioner. The hair on his eyebrows was incredibly long, and combed upward at the edges.

  “So who are we hanging today?” the old timer asked as he took his seat. He looked up and laughed raucously, like he’d said something hilarious. “I mean, who are we trying today.”

  Karen knew then that Mike was right – she was in very deep shit.

  “This little whore is a real piece of work, Judge,” Evans said.

  “I see.” He didn’t have any paperwork in front of him and no one else was anywhere in the room. “What did she do?”

  What did she do? Apparently the government in Sheol didn’t believe in innocent until proven guilty. “I didn’t do anything!” Karen felt desperation clawing its way to the surface.

  “You will not speak in my courtroom!” The old judge pointed a crooked finger at her and his forehead scrunched in fury. He looked almost demonic to Karen. He calmed almost as quickly as he had exploded and turned his attention back to Evans. “What did she do?”

  “Kidnapped a boy and killed his brother and mother in cold blood.”

  “The hell I did!”

  “And she’s Mad Dog McCall’s whore.”

  “You lying mother fu—”

  Evans spun around and gave her another backhanded slap on the same eye as before. She cupped her free hand over it, trying not to cry out in pain.

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” the judge said. “What evidence do you present?”

  “We found her with the boy,’ Evans said. He pointed at her soiled, torn dress. “And as you can see, she’s covered in the families’ blood.”

  “That’s not their blood!” Karen jerked her arm, trying to free it from Mike’s grip, but he was much too strong.

  “Guilty!” The old man stood and gave Evans a beaming smile. “Let’s get to some hangin’!”

  “You got it, Dad,” Evans said. “I mean, Judge.” He winked at Karen.

  “Dad?” Karen couldn’t believe what she’d heard. How could it be possible that she would step into such madness? No matter what decision she made, no matter what path she chose, her situation went from bad to worse. This felt like it came straight out of a nightmare.

  She couldn’t understand how two sadistic bastards like Evans and his father ran the judicial system in Sheol. They just railroaded her and neither of the deputies said a word in protest. She tried to make eye contact with Deputy Gary, but he refused to look at her.

  Mike tightened his grip on her arm when she tried to turn back to him.

  “Help me, for Christ’s sake!”

  The judge climbed down from the landing his desk sat on and led them to another door in the back right corner of the room. Karen fought against Mike the entire way but she couldn’t get loose, no matter what she did. The insane father and son chatted merrily as they walked through the courthouse.

  Evans opened the door for his father before following him through it. Gary went next, still remaining silent and refusing to look at Karen. The light coming through the door blinded her for a few seconds as she and Mike walked outside. She squinted, trying to see where they were taking her.

  A deluge of whispers erupted all around as they dragged her into a grassy field behind the courthouse. Her eyes adjusted as she blinked rapidly, and she saw a crowd of onlookers had surrounded the area. More people joined the group, moping into place as if they were forced to attend. All of them watched her being rag-dolled by Mike, but none of them spoke up in her defe
nse. They refused to look into her eyes, just like the deputies.

  She knew right then what the accused must have felt like during the Salem Witch Trials. She’d read about that period of time many years ago, and the thought of being rammed through a hackneyed court system and burned at the stake had horrified her. That time seemed like a black mark on the history of the country. Now she realized that some places thrived on that kind savagery. Though no fire could be found, the hangman’s noose seemed close enough.

  “I haven’t done anything!” Karen shouted over and over, trying to get someone to look at her.

  The judge turned around and spit in her face. “Shut up, you filthy whore.” His grin remained fixed in place, despite the venom spewing from his mouth. Like his son, he appeared to revel in the misery of others.

  The gallows stood twenty feet away, its presence casting a pall over the somber crowd. Even more people piled around in a large circle, preparing to watch the execution. Karen had witnessed a hanging once before and the people watching it with her had been screaming for blood and death. The citizens of Sheol just stood there solemnly.

  A noose hung from the thick wood beam that ran across the top of the frame. It swayed a bit as a light breeze wisped by. Ten steps climbed to the platform where a trapdoor sat in the middle, with the noose hanging directly above it.

  Evans walked past the steps and stood off to the side, scoffing at Karen as she approached the steps. She planted both of her feet on the third step and straightened her legs, trying to keep Mike from forcing her up the stairs. It worked for a few seconds before he lifted her off the ground altogether, and carried her to the platform.

  “What is wrong with you people? Help me! Why are you letting them do this to me? I’ve done nothing wrong! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  Mike placed her in a standing position on the platform and held her still while Gary tied her hands behind her back. He bound her feet next, ensuring that she couldn’t fight back at all. Both of them refused to acknowledge her, focusing on the tasks at hand.

 

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