She gave another loud howl and swung the blade through the air in a mighty arc. These initiates had not mastered speech yet, their voices stilled by their rapidly changing physiology. Most could not speak in Archaic form for weeks after turning.
“I am Shaniah, your Queen. In time you will come to serve me. Now you obey. You will feed when I allow it. You will follow my commands. This is how it has been and always shall be.”
Nothing she said was remotely true. Her position as leader of her people was an elected one. She was not “served” by her people. The Archaics of the high mountains were a small, self-sustaining society and while it was true that she could make decisions for her people, she had been chosen by the Council of Elders because she was the Archaic who was the best hunter, the strongest, the most cunning. She had earned her place through action and example, not by fighting it out as she had heard other groups like the wolf people did.
She needed to exert her will on this group. If they learned to shelter themselves from the sun, they could keep Hollister and the others penned up inside the jail until they starved. There was no time for that.
Her words caused some consternation among the group. It was almost certain they could understand her. Their primitive instincts were just in charge and difficult for them to control. They wanted to kill and eat Hollister and the rest in the jail. For them there was no other course to take.
The blacksmith had slowly worked his way to the front of the group, acting as if he had no interest in anything going on around him. Shaniah set her feet, tightening her grip on the blade. His attack was sudden, and even though she was prepared, his quickness surprised her. He leapt in the air the ten feet or so between them. The blacksmith had been one of the most recent to turn, so he would not disintegrate to ash yet. It was a lucky break for her.
Shaniah did not hesitate. Swinging the blade, she rotated her hips, her arms and shoulders pouring every ounce of strength she had into it. The big knife connected with the man at his neck and his head came off as if she had sliced through a melon. His body collapsed to the ground and with one hand, Shaniah snatched his head out of the air, her fingers twisted in his long dark hair. She held the head up, brandishing it at the Archaics, her eyes burning with rage.
“Do NOT disobey me!” she commanded, tossing the head at the assembled group, who scattered, stumbling over each other to get out of the way.
Now came the dangerous part.
She spun on her heel, walking toward the jail, her back exposed to them, but without haste, as if they were no threat to her at all.
Chapter Forty-eight
Hollister and Chee stood dumbstruck as Shaniah strolled almost casually down the street. The further removed from the Archaics she got, the more restless they became. It didn’t seem like their patience would hold much longer and Shaniah quickened her pace a bit, until she finally reached the two of them.
“What the hell did you do?” Hollister asked. Shaniah shrugged.
“I would suggest we get inside the jail, quickly. They have been momentarily cowed. It won’t last long,” she said.
Hollister wasn’t sure bringing Shaniah inside the jail with the women and children was a good idea. Yet she had saved his life a half dozen times in the last ten minutes and he could not see making her fend for herself out here. But he was not taking a fox into the henhouse either.
“Give me your knife,” Hollister said.
“What? No!” she said.
Jonas didn’t waste time. “Here is how it is. You want my help finding this ‘Malachi’ as you called him. All right. We can talk about it. But right now, we’ve got to survive until morning at the least, and I’ve got women and children inside the jail. I’m not letting you in there with a weapon. So make up your mind.”
Shaniah felt like taking Hollister by the throat. But when her flash of anger subsided, she could see his point. And would likely have done the same thing, had she been in his position. She held out the knife, blade down, and he secured it in his gun belt.
Noticing the sullen look on her face, he tried giving her a charming smile. “Don’t worry. If the Archaics show up again, I’ll be sure you get it back.”
“If they come back, you’ll likely die,” she said.
“Touché,” Hollister said. “Sally! We need to come in.”
“Hold it, Major,” Chee said, raising the rifle. Hollister turned; with one free hand each, they exchanged coins. Both were clear. Shaniah looked puzzled but the two men said nothing.
There came the sound of the wooden timber being lifted from inside, and the door squeaked open. The three of them shot through and Hollister resecured the door. Chee made no acknowledgment of anyone or anything, going right back to the window and peering through the shooting port, rifle at the ready.
Shaniah wasn’t sure where to go. The women and children stared at her with a mixture of distrust and fear, several of them cowering and pushing closer together in the office corner. Shaniah herself did not look comfortable standing next to Chee and for a few moments she fidgeted until she took a spot beside the desk and in the opposite corner from where the woman and children had gathered. She studied the door to the cell block, now chained, and pretended to be interested in any mundane thing she could find.
“Who is she?” Sally asked. “I ain’t ever seen her before.”
“She’s new in town,” Hollister said, trying to sound at ease.
“How come she’s got blood all over her?” Sally continued.
Hollister hadn’t really paid attention in all the excitement, but now noticed both he and Shaniah were splattered in blood from their fights with the Archaics.
“We . . . ah . . . ran into a little bit of trouble,” Hollister said. “How’s Billy?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Billy sat on his mother’s lap. She held him seated on the floor, pulling him tightly to her, sobbing gently and rubbing his hair. Surprisingly, he looked none the worse for wear.
“Appears fine,” Sally said, not taking her eyes off Shaniah. “She one o’ them?”
“One of whom?” Hollister asked, not wanting to answer and waiting for the trouble he had a pretty good idea was coming.
“You know. A night demon. She don’t look right,” Sally said.
Hollister couldn’t imagine how that could be, because aside from all the blood staining her clothes and the many creatures he’d seen her kill almost bare-handed, she looked like the most all-right woman he had ever seen.
“No. She’s not one of them. She’s hunting them though. She lost someone who was taken by these things and came to my aid in town. They can be killed and she knows how to do it.”
His answer appeared to satisfy Sally for a moment, but she kept a wary eye on Shaniah. The other women were whispering and murmuring among themselves and Hollister had a feeling they were going to figure out Shaniah’s true nature before long. Luckily, he didn’t have time to worry about it.
“Major,” Chee said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve got company again.”
Hollister peered out the port. The Archaics Shaniah had stood off now gathered in front of the jail. They weren’t doing anything, just standing, watching. Hollister counted twenty-two now and he wondered how many were left in town. He disliked being pinned down like this, unable to do reconnaissance and find out what he was up against.
The moon was moving lower in the sky. Hollister checked his pocket watch. It was past 3 A.M. Suddenly the Archaics turned to look at something down the street, and from their vantage point neither he nor Chee could see what it was.
A moment later, two more Archaics arrived, each of them carrying torches.
“I thought they didn’t like fire,” Hollister muttered.
“Where did you hear that?” Shaniah said quietly and he jumped for she was right behind him. He’d had no idea she’d moved from her original spot. “We’re quite familiar with fire and its many uses.”
“I read it in Van . . . somewhere. From a
trustworthy source.”
“Well your source is wrong. You are thinking of vampires, not Archaics. Fire will burn us, like a human, but it cannot kill us. From what I have heard, fire does kill vampires. Our accelerated healing makes it an annoyance at worst. A fire will slow us down and only make us angry.”
“As if you ain’t naturally angry enough already.” Hollister snorted.
Shaniah ignored him.
“What are they doing?” Hollister said, changing the subject.
“If I had to guess, I would say they are going to smoke you out,” she said.
Their next move surprised all of them.
One of the males holding a torch spoke. “We would speak to the female,” he said.
“I think he’s asking for you,” Hollister said, looking at Shaniah, who never took her eyes off the Archaic in the street. “What does he want?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “This is . . . this is . . . not right. Those men should not yet be able to speak . . . unless . . .” she paused thinking, pacing back and forth.
“Unless what?” Hollister demanded.
“Malachi sent them here,” she said.
“Malachi . . . just to be clear. He’s the really tall guy with the white hair?” Hollister asked again.
“Yes. This means he’s getting stronger, he’s nearly . . . well, we can discuss it later. Suffice it to say, he’s powerful enough now to turn a whole town if he wants to. Those would be his soldiers he sent to start the turning and the killing.”
Hollister was caught a little off guard. Tired and sore from his exertions, he was stumbling over what to do next.
“Do you think he’s here?” Hollister asked.
She shook her head. “No. I would be able to tell if he was.”
“How?”
“Many ways. Smell mostly.”
“Nice,” Hollister said.
“It is not the only way. Archaics who have lived many years develop a sense of each other—a connection, you might call it. We are always able to tell when another is nearby. I don’t sense him here or even anywhere close. But I suspect those two are among his most valued soldiers.”
“How do you know that?” Chee asked.
“Because it is what I would do,” she said. Hollister wondered if she even noticed how she drew back a little when she spoke to Chee. Something about him made her nervous. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he wanted to find out. It might come in handy.
“Sally, can you come here a minute?” he asked the young woman.
She joined them at the window and they made room for her to see out the port. She let out a sharp breath of fear upon seeing all the Archaics.
“It’s okay, Sally,” he said. “Do you recognize either of the men holding those torches? Are they from around here?”
She studied them and shook her head.
“I don’t recognize ’em. I mean there’s people comin’ and goin’ all the time in a minin’ town. But I ain’t never seen ’em before.” She looked up at him and he thought she might have the brownest eyes he’d ever seen. But there were so many lines on her face for someone so young and he felt a little sad, thinking of the hard life she must have faced. He wanted to get her out of here. Out of this jail and this town. To get her somewhere safe where she might have a chance.
“Thanks, Sally,” he said. “Would you mind keeping an extra eye on Billy for me? I don’t want him surprising us again and I’m not sure his mother is . . . well, I just need someone I can trust keeping a watch on things.”
Sally nodded, and the look on her face told him she knew she was being dismissed, but she had the good grace not to say anything about it. The women were quiet but the children were stirring and he heard one of the little girls whine about being hungry. He realized they had left the food and water in the cells when they escaped. He toyed with the idea of trying to retrieve the supplies but with a glance at the creatures pacing about in the street, he rejected it. They would have to hold out a little longer.
“Just so you know there is something wrong with the one you call Billy,” Shaniah said.
“What do you mean wrong?” Hollister asked.
“He doesn’t smell right. He may have been turned,” she said.
“But you can’t be sure?” Hollister said.
“No, it has been so long since I have been near a human child turned Archaic, I can’t be sure. But you should kill him, just to be safe,” she said.
With that, Chee swung the rifle around so it was inches from her temple. Shaniah did not flinch, but the two of them stared at each other like two bulls sharing a pasture.
“We do not kill children,” he said.
Hollister pushed the rifle away from Shaniah and back to its proper place in the shooting port. “Chee, let’s try to remain friendly. Shaniah, please avoid talking about child killing as it tends to rile up my sergeant.”
Hollister was still struggling with a next step, when one of the torch bearing men spoke again.
“We would speak to the female,” it said. The voice was deep, with a raspy, breathless quality and Hollister remembered how Malachi had sounded on the Wyoming plain.
“Like a snake trying to talk,” he muttered.
“Sir?” Chee asked, confused.
“Nothing,” he answered.
“When they feed on human blood, their voices change. It affects their internal organs. In the old days it was one of the ways an Archaic could be judged for breaking Archaic law by feeding on humans.”
The sound of the voice sent the women and children inside the jail into a frenzy.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Rebecca moaned from her spot in the corner. This started some of the younger children to crying.
“Hush now,” Sally whispered to them. “It’s gonna be all right.”
“I’m ready for suggestions,” Hollister said quietly to Shaniah and Chee.
“Open the door,” she said. “Let me talk to them.”
“I don’t think so,” Hollister said. “Let me rephrase that. I’m ready for suggestions that don’t involve opening the door. I send you out there and you’re overwhelmed. We’re going to need you to get out of this.”
“I may be able to talk them into giving up,” she pointed out.
“They don’t look like they’re in a giving-up mood. And there’s about three times as many as you faced in the street. Plus these two new fellows, they don’t look like they’d spook as easy,” Hollister said. “Like it our not, next to Chee here, you’re my most valuable weapon. I can’t afford to lose you.” She was actually worth about ten Chees, but he didn’t want to hurt the young man’s feelings.
“We would speak to the female now!” the same man hollered again. The other Archaics stood behind the two men, looking nervous and jumpy. Or hungry. Jonas couldn’t tell.
A few minutes passed and everyone was silent. Then the next step was taken for them as the two men stepped forward, hurling their torches onto the roof of the jail.
Chapter Forty-nine
The torches spun through the darkness and landed atop the building with a thud. At first, Hollister thought they might be okay, maybe the torches wouldn’t catch, but there was a large sound of rushing air and the smell of something burning. The flames lit up the street in front of the jail and Hollister wondered about earlier in the night when the Archaics had jumped on the roof, stomping all around. They must have been preparing it to burn somehow.
The smell of smoke filtered down through the ceiling and now not even Sally’s ministrations could calm the children and women.
“You need to do something about your people,” Shaniah said to Hollister.
“Like what?” he said, not happy at the distraction.
“You should kill them,” she said matter-of-factly.
The words stopped him, although Chee didn’t flinch. Not because he would ever consider following her suggestion, but more because he was not surprised by it. Hollister couldn’t understand what little dance t
hey were in engaged in, but he would sure as shit find out. When he wasn’t so preoccupied with not getting killed.
“You can’t be serious,” he said.
“They are going to die. Either we all burn to death, or they are killed by the Archaics. No matter the method, they are just as dead. A bullet now is more merciful,” she said.
“And you’re all about the mercy?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“The quality is not unknown to me,” she said.
“Yeah, well, funny way of showing it. They aren’t going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Hollister said.
The smoke was now curling down into the room and the air in it would soon no longer be breathable.
“All right. Maybe they don’t have the back covered; we go through the cell block, Chee and I exit the window first, the children and the women come next. We might have enough ammo to keep them at bay until we get to the train.”
“That’s it? Excuse me for saying, but in my country we do not call that a plan,” Shaniah scoffed.
“Never been to your country. Don’t care what it’s called there,” he said.
“Major. Sir?” Chee said, interrupting.
“Sergeant?”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but the window won’t work, Major. Two of the women yonder are . . . stout . . . they’ll never fit through and I don’t think it’s big enough for one of us to shoot through while the other climbs out of it. One of those things will be on us before we get our feet out the opening,” he said. Hollister could tell it bothered Chee to criticize his plan. But he was right.
“In my country we would call this suicide,” Shaniah snarled as if wanting to finish her thought.
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