“It’s going to have to be the front door, sir,” Chee said. “We’re going to have to rush them, guns blazing. Maybe Monkey Pete will come . . .”
“He won’t. I gave him orders not to,” Hollister said. Everyone jumped as one of the roof timbers cracked and sparks fluttered down from the ceiling.
“Again, you have a monkey?” Shaniah asked.
“NO,” he and Chee both answered at the same time.
Hollister tried to think. He had been out of command situations for nearly four years. His decision-making abilities, which had been lightning quick in his army days, had atrophied. He’d not faced anything like this, not in Winchester, Cold Harbor, or anyplace else during the war. The only thing that compared was when he’d lost his men to these things on the plains. He hated the feeling. He wasn’t going to lose again. Not if he had to kill every single one of these sons of bitches with his bare hands.
The flames lit up the night, dancing and flickering in the darkness, and by the looks of the reflections in the windows across the street, they were starting to spread to the adjacent buildings. There was another loud crack and more sparks and now smoke rolled into the room and the women and children started to cough. Outside the Archaics had backed away from the fire, and while Shaniah said they had no innate fear of it, he wasn’t so sure this was the case. They all studied the flames as if they wanted to keep their distance.
“All right,” he said, drawing Shaniah’s knife from his belt and handing it to her. “We’re going out. Chee, I’ll take the point, the women and children next, and you bring up the rear. Shaniah, if you’re with us, if you could do what you can to protect our flanks . . .” He drew a Colt from his holster and offered it to her but she shook her head, holding up the knife instead.
“All right . . . we’re going to have to make every shot count and we can’t assume that’s all the Archaics in that group there. Could be more about, so . . .” He stopped as Chee put his hand on his arm.
“Did you hear that, sir?” Chee asked.
“Hear what?”
“It sounded like . . . barking . . .” Chee said, his eyes on the street.
“I didn’t hear a th . . .” But then he did. A loud, deep bark.
Down the street came Dog, barking and churning up the ground in great leaps. The Archaics watched in stunned silence as the great beast ran directly to the jail door, where Chee had lifted the timber beam and pulled it open. Dog slipped in, barking, and leapt on Chee, pushing him backward against the door and slamming it shut, his paws on the sergeant’s shoulders and licking his face.
Hollister noticed then, the dog was wearing some kind of harness, and held in place by two leather straps was the Ass-Kicker.
“Huh,” Hollister said.
Hollister removed the harness from Dog’s back. The giant animal appeared not to even know it had been carrying the heavy gun. Hollister hefted the weapon into the crook of his arm and instantly felt about one thousand times better. He checked the gauge, unnecessarily he knew, for Monkey Pete would not have sent it less than fully charged. He drew back the slide and smiled at the slight hiss of steam exiting the valve. All right, you blood-sucking bastards. Say hello to my Archaic-Ass-Kicking friend.
Dog had been so happy to see Chee, he had momentarily forgotten about the rest of the people in the room. He ignored Hollister as usual, but he stepped toward the children and women huddled in the corner and huffed, and then stretched so his forepaws were down on the ground like he wanted to play, wagging his tail in joy. The children were scared at first but as they watched Dog clowning it up, their demeanor changed. The cries and whimpering stopped and a few giggles escaped from their tired mouths.
“I bet you wouldn’t ignore me if I had a side o’ bacon, you big fur ball,” Hollister said. Dog looked at Hollister; that was when he noticed Shaniah and his demeanor changed. He growled low in his throat and took a few cautious steps toward her, his body tense, the hair on his neck standing up. He looked ready to spring at any moment.
“I can easily kill this dog,” Shaniah said quietly. Hollister didn’t doubt it, but the words did not sit well with his sergeant. Before he had a chance to say anything, Chee spoke up.
“Come near the dog, harm it in any way, and you will walk the Qui chen forever,” Chee said.
“Chee, what exactly is Qui chen?” Hollister asked.
“A river in hell,” Chee said.
“Oh,” said Hollister. “Easy you two. Let’s not walk any rivers anywhere, all right?”
Shaniah stared at him for several seconds as the smoke in the room thickened. There wasn’t much time.
“I mean it. No trouble between you two. Sergeant, that’s an order. We’re on the same side here,” Hollister said. “Chee, load up.”
“Sally, we’re getting out of here. Everyone up and ready,” he said.
“No . . . no . . . no . . . no . . . we can’t go out there . . . the demons will kill us all. They’ll kill . . .” Rebecca had started to moan and wail, but Sally covered the ground between them in a flash and smacked her hard across the face.
“You shut up now, you tired hag. Come with us or stay, but you git ready,” she commanded. Rebecca’s mind was gone. It just went away to another place, her mind broken like a fine china plate that had fallen to the floor. Hollister didn’t think Rebecca was ever coming back from this.
“I’m going out first and I’m going to give those sonsabitches a special hello,” he said, holding up the Ass-Kicker. “We all go south on First Street and head for the train siding. We’ve got help there and we’ll be safe. They can’t set fire to it and we can outrun them anyway. The three of us will protect you.” He was interrupted by a growl from Dog. “Excuse me, the four of us can protect you. We can do this. You have my word.” For effect, Hollister worked the handle attached to the main action on his gun, and the sound it made as the steam hissed and the round popped into place was loud in the room, which was reassuring to him at least. It was time.
Chee moved away from the door and returned to the port. He could get off a couple of shots from there if he needed to before they had to exit.
Hollister removed the timber from the door.
“Ready?” he asked. Shaniah and Chee nodded. Dog sat on his haunches next to Chee waiting to see what happened next.
Hollister threw open the door with a bang. The Archaics across the street turned toward the noise as one, reminding Hollister of a herd of antelope spotting a grizzly bear.
“You wanted to talk? Let’s talk!” he shouted. He stepped out into the street, no more than twenty yards away from them now. Three of them leapt in the air toward him and he leaned forward, ready for the recoil this time. From the waist he aimed the Ass-Kicker in their direction and pulled the trigger.
There was a quick whoosh of steam, then the weapon fired and jerked in his grip. The noise was deafening. The bullet, which he’d decided was really more like a mortar round, hit the first Archaic and exploded. The percussion wave tore through the creature like shrapnel through butter. His body flew apart in pieces and the other two were knocked backward a good ten yards where they spun into the ground. He didn’t think they were dead but they were down. Likely for quite a while.
“Let’s go!” he yelled. He started running toward the train and from the corner of his eye he saw Shaniah dart out of the jail, followed by the first of the women and children. Holding the Ass-Kicker in his right hand, he drew his Colt from the left holster. He had a load of silver and holy water bullets and he wanted to use them all before he fired the big gun again.
He aimed for legs. The bullets seemed to cause the creatures great pain and he surmised that if it didn’t kill them, perhaps being shot in the legs with ammunition that was clearly poison to them might slow them down even more. His first shot found its mark and a female fell to the ground, her hands clawing at the wound.
His display with the Ass-Kicker had the desired effect. The Archaics shadowed them, still in pursuit but parallel to
them and not willing to engage yet. Hollister knew this was temporary, as their need to feed would overcome them before long and they would attack.
He risked a look backward and found Sally and Shaniah leading the group from the jail with Chee behind them. He was running and effortlessly firing the Henry, taking out more targets. The roof of the jail collapsed and he was momentarily relieved to have gotten everyone this far.
They had almost made it to the end of the street when the next wave of Archaics attacked. His Colt was empty, so he holstered it, cocking the action on the Ass-Kicker. The valve hissed and the gear turned, and just like that, it was ready to fire. The rail spur was another hundred yards away. He tried to angle himself toward the Archaics so the gun would cut as wide a swath as possible. It was difficult with them all moving around, running and jumping as they debated whether to come at him again.
“Come on, you sonsabitches!” he yelled.
The women and children were in a tight bunch behind him, with Shaniah and Dog on each flank. Chee brought up the rear, keeping up a steady fire with the Henry. Sally was in the middle of the group toward the front, carrying a small child in one arm waving her Colt around with the other. He wasn’t sure if she’d fired it yet or not.
An Archaic charged toward Dog’s side of their small column, perhaps thinking it was the weak point. It cost the creature the use of its right arm as Dog leapt, meeting the fiend in the air and taking hold of the limb, twisting them both to the ground. The creature screamed as Dog clamped down, breaking the Archaic’s bones and shaking it like a dead cat.
Rounding the intersection, a phalanx of Archaics came directly at them. Hollister skidded to a stop, set his feet, and fired the gun, with devastating effect. It hit the first Archaic in line, blowing through her and the one behind her, and taking off the arm of a third. The rest of the group scattered into the shadows.
“Keep going!” he shouted. He could see the train sitting on the track in the distance. It looked a hundred miles away.
He pulled back the action on the Ass-Kicker and another round ratcheted into the chamber. Two shots left. Hollister had found when testing the gun that each shot lost power until the gun could be recharged. The final shot was about half as powerful as the first, but still did some damage.
Ten yards down Second Street they ran, then twenty. Thirty yards. The Archaics held back but were regrouping. Forty yards down the street, still a long way to the train. They won’t let us reach the end of the street, he thought.
“Hold on! Here they come!” he shouted.
As if they’d read his mind, the creatures surged into the street. He managed to wound four with the remaining rounds in his Colt, missing two others, but now both pistols were empty. Archaics burst out of the doors of the buildings as if they were running to a fire. Four or five of the creatures stood on the roof of the walkways and beneath them, four more poured out of the general store. They had heard his big gun shoot and were cautious. Hollister aimed the Ass-Kicker at one of the wooden posts holding up the roof over the walkway and his shot obliterated the pillar. The weight of the creatures on the roof collapsed it and crushed those standing below it.
“Bastards!” Hollister screamed. If I live through this, I will apologize for my language later, he thought.
“Don’t stop!” he shouted. He realized then they had too far to go. They weren’t going to make it. He stopped, gesturing for the group to keep moving past him. “Keep going!” Shaniah and Dog kept the children and women moving toward the train. Chee pulled up next to him as if to stop, but Hollister pushed him toward the train. “Get these people on the train!”
Hollister gave the group a good twenty yards head start and then spun around, working the action on the steam-powered gun, his next shot ready. A large group of Archaics, more than he could count, surged toward him. He fired into the crowd. There were howls of pain and anger as Archaics were blown apart and others went down. He spun the gun around on the sling and used the distraction to slap his final two speed loaders into his Colts. He ran for the train.
“Monkey Pete! Open up!” he shouted. The train looked eerily deserted, the iron doors still in place and no sign of the engineer in the gunner’s turret on top of the armory car. For a god-awful minute he worried that Pete was dead. The Archaics had managed to somehow breech the train’s defenses. Now what? Even if they could get aboard, no way could he and Chee drive the thing.
A flash of light appeared on top of the armory car and the ground exploded in small pockets of dirt and sod behind him. As the sound reached him, he recognized the thumping and crackling of the Gatling gun being fired. One of the bullets whizzed past his ear.
“Holy shit!” he yelped as the ground around his feet erupted. He ran faster, trying to put more space between him and the pursuing Archaics.
The shooting kept up as they covered the last fifty yards, all of them stopping at the side of the train. The firing had had a devastating effect on the creatures. There was enough light now for Hollister to see Monkey Pete in the turret with a big grin on his face.
“Pete!” Hollister cried. “Let us in! Your fancy shooting won’t stop them for long.”
“Yes, sir! Give me a second!” the engineer replied. He disappeared with a hiss as his seat lowered out of sight. There was no sound from inside for several seconds. Jonas waited for the doors to open, but they didn’t.
“Pete! God damn it, haul ass!” he commanded.
He was loading his last four bullets left from his gun belt into his Colt, watching as the Archaics cautiously approached, when the door to the train slid open. Monkey Pete stood there with a hose in his hand. Before Hollister could say anything, he opened the valve and high-pressure water shot out, drenching them all except Shaniah, who with her quick reflexes managed to dive under the train and avoid the watery blast.
“Pete! What the hell!” He spat water.
“Sorry, Major. It’s holy water. Ain’t letting anybody on my train unless they are who they say they are.”
“Well I can vouch for all of us—”
He was interrupted by the sound of someone groaning.
Behind him on the ground lay Billy, twisting in agony as the water burned his skin.
Chapter Fifty
“Demon!” Rebecca shrieked, pointing at the boy writhing in the dirt.
“Get Billy inside,” Hollister shouted.
He glanced back at the Archaics. They were regrouping forty yards out, the memory of Monkey Pete’s Gatling fresh in their minds. But they were getting ready to charge again. He had learned to recognize their approach.
“No time! For this! Chee! Grab the kid, the rest of you get on the train!” The children and women piled onto the train. Chee grabbed hold of Billy and followed. Shaniah waited.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked her.
“I think I should depart.”
“Why?”
“I am not welcome here,” she said.
“Maybe not. But I still need your help,” he said.
“Yes you do. But you don’t listen. You should kill the boy. He is an Archaic now.”
“For God’s sake I’m not killing a kid, I don’t care what he is,” Hollister said.
“He is turning. He has made no move yet, because his young mind can’t grasp what is happening to his body. But he will become dangerous, and soon.”
“Then we’ll tie him up or something, we don’t have time to argue. Get on the damn train!”
The roar from the Archaics sounded and they bounced forward, leaping in the air and covering great swaths of ground. Shaniah still hesitated.
“I’ve got questions, and you said you needed my help. Well, I need yours, so what’ll it be?” he pleaded, casting a wary eye toward the approaching hordes and hoping like all hell she would say yes. He needed her fighting ability if they were going to live through this.
“All right,” she said.
Hollister bounded up the steel steps and through the door. Shaniah trie
d to follow but was stopped at the threshold. She tried to push through but was stopped.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. The Archaics were thirty yards away.
Hollister remembered the painted markings around the doors and windows. Van Helsing had said they were designed to keep out demons and other creatures.
“Ah crap, the devil’s traps . . .” he said.
“What? Invite me in! Hurry!” Twenty yards.
“Invite . . . what the hell? Shaniah, get in here!” he shouted.
The spell broken, she burst through the door and he pulled the lever, watching the iron door slide down into place.
Billy appeared to be recovering but he was huddling in the corner by himself with no one else paying attention to him, not even his mother. Chee had gone to the armory car, and was now in the turret firing away. Hollister could hear the spit of the Gatling.
Something thudded against the side of the car and the train shook momentarily.
“Monkey Pete! Get us going! Back to Denver!”
Far ahead he heard the sounds of the engine starting up, but the train rocked back and forth and he worried it would be derailed before they could get under way.
He handed Shaniah a Colt from his holster and pulled a modified Henry from the rifle rack. Next to each door on either side of the car were small shooters’ ports that could be cranked open. It wasn’t a large field of fire, but it might drive off some of them.
He pushed the barrel through the port and it was nearly jerked out of his hands. An Archaic tried reaching through the opening, but the space was too small. With his other hand he pulled his Colt and fired point-blank, hitting it in the face and blowing the creature backward off the train.
Slowly, the engine came to life and they rolled back southward, in the direction they had come from. Hollister hoped Pete was secure in the engine room, because they were up shit creek if something happened to the engineer.
More thuds sounded as the Archaics saw their opportunity slipping away. The train gathered speed and huffed slowly away, leaving Absolution behind. After two minutes had passed with no sound from outside, Hollister thought they might have made it.
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