by Chuck Buda
Another round was called for and rough hands pounded the bar in agreement. James noticed that the men nearest him were busy shouting into each other’s face about the ghost being dismissed. He saw his chance and began to wriggle through a few sturdy shoulders until he hit a brick wall. Not an actual brick wall. It was Sully. The man only went by one name, his nickname. Sully obviously stood for Sullivan which was his last name. His first name was Horace. But everyone in town knew not to call him by his Christian name unless you wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon searching for your teeth on the ground. Sully was part of the lumberyard gang. And he was HUGE.
“Going somewhere?”
“Me? No. I just, um…was, uh…”
Before James could finish stammering a lame excuse Ed Miller squeezed past several men. He clapped Sully on the shoulder and beamed at James.
“James! My wonderful stock boy. You’re a hero!”
James could smell the whiskey floating from Mr. Miller’s breath.
“Mr. Miller? Have you been drinking?”
“Well, just one. And then another one. And another one.” He cackled in James’ face.
“I’m not your stock boy, any more. You fired me. Remember?”
“James, James, James. I didn’t really fire you. I…gave you time off to slay the gunslinger. And you did it, my fine lad!”
“I don’t know…”
“Think of the sales, James. Why, do you know how many people will come through our doors just to meet the fine savior of this town? Think, James. Each one buying more items just to be near you. We’ll be rich!”
James waved the whiskey breath away with his hand. “I don’t think folks will buy more soap just because of me.”
Ed Miller furrowed his brow and nodded. “You may be right, James. But we can dream, can’t we?” He leaned his head in and then started laughing. Each laugh bringing more water to James’ eyes.
James chuckled and nodded.
The crowd shifted and Mr. Miller went away. James took the opportunity and started to burrow between men. His head was swimming a bit and his stomach pleaded for food.
Then he hit the wall again.
Sully shoved James to the front of the bar. A new round of back slaps and cheers. Someone started up a chorus of songs about James being a jolly good fellow. But the sounds morphed into an echoing din in his head. The room twisted and turned and it felt like the ground was moving beneath his boots. A shot glass with amber liquid spilling over slid in front of him. Sully’s enormous hand placed the shot in James’ and the whole room raised glasses to the ceiling. Then someone yelled “Up yer arse” and the crowd downed the whiskey.
Including James.
Suddenly, the pain in his cheek and chest disappeared. His exhaustion slipped away too. He wanted to dance for some reason. But he really didn’t know how. It didn’t matter though. Two women from the brothel upstairs were pushed into James. They were laughing and caressing his face. One of the ladies took his hat off and placed it on her own head. Then the women squeezed James in the middle and attempted to dance around him. James laughed and clapped as another shot of whiskey found its way through the crowd. Without prompting, James downed the shot and threw the glass across the bar. He linked arms with the two ladies and a small circle of space spread around the threesome.
They danced and laughed. The mob clapped and cheered.
All thoughts of death and ghosts were absent.
As James enjoyed the alcohol-induced fervor, Sarah stood at the doorway. Her arms were folded across her chest. A stern expression painted her face as her crystal-blue eyes turned to ice. Her foot tapped the wooden floor, revealing her disapproval of James’ behavior. And the town’s goading.
She glanced down at Carson who was still wrapped in the wool blanket. His expression blank as he tried to watch the dance through the crowd. He looked up at Sarah. Then he shrugged.
Sarah smiled. And started to laugh. She must have figured that there was nothing she could do at this point to get her son back. Sarah put her arm around Carson and they worked their way to the stairs.
And James danced on.
Chapter 49
James vomited.
Again.
Doc Stinson nodded to the nurse to remove the chamber pot. The frustration was evident on the doctor’s face. He was trying to stitch James’ cheek together. But they had to stop so James could get sick. Twice. The string dangled from James’ face while he hung off the cot.
It had been a long night. James partied into the wee hours. Until Sully carried him upstairs to their room like a small child. Sarah had laughed when she saw James hanging around Sully’s neck while passed out.
Now James was experiencing his first hangover. His head inflated against the band of his hat. His temples throbbed and his stomach felt like he swallowed dirty horse trough water. Any slight movement seemed like the whole world was shaking. He did not feel good.
“Sit still, James.” Doc Stinson huffed as he tried to continue stitching.
“Uhhhhhhh.” James moaned instead of telling Doc Stinson what he really felt like saying. IF he could actually form a sentence.
James squinted. Not from the thread sliding through his wound, but from the bright light shining in the windows of the hospital. James thought he was on the sun between the heat and the brightness.
“Guess his first night out with the boys didn’t end well.”
“What gave you that impression, Doc?” His mother’s sarcasm burned through him but his head hurt too much to fight it.
“Boys will be boys.”
“Funny how that excuse works for the boys, but not the gals, huh?”
This time Doc Stinson shot Sarah a dirty look. Apparently he wasn’t given to women’s issues. Sarah grinned with contempt, regardless.
“There we go. Good as new. Well, almost.”
James turned and vomited again. This time it splattered on the floor. The nurse hadn’t made it back yet with the cleaned out chamber pot. Doc Stinson groaned at the mess in his office. Sarah folded her arms and nodded to James that it served him right. Carson wrinkled his tiny nose at the awful smell.
“At least the booze is coming out. It smells just like it came straight outta the bottle.” Doc Stinson stood to leave. “I suggest you lie down right where you are, young man. And ride this one out.”
“Sounds good to me. I don’t want that mess in my room.” Sarah’s sarcasm still overt.
James rolled over and stared at his mother. Right now he hated her guts. Because he knew she was right. He quietly swore to God that he would NEVER, EVER drink booze again. He didn’t even like the taste of it. Although, he did have fun for a while last night. Nope. No more. That is one side of being a man that he didn’t want to go through again.
The sound of heels clomped loudly on the floor. The noise pierced James’ head like an iron bar being rammed between his eyes. He wished it would go away.
Eleanor Lark stormed past Sarah and Carson. She brushed Doc Stinson aside too.
“James. I have to say something to you. And you’re going to listen to me.”
Sarah looked at Carson and then followed along again.
“I know you think that I had something to do with keeping the secrets of the gunslinger from you. But I had no idea about the legend. These crummy people in this smelly town kept the secret from me too. And then you left town to fight the ghost without saying goodbye to me as if I didn’t matter. And that just hurt me, James. It hurt me badly. And as angry as I am at you, I don’t want you to walk away without knowing how I feel about you. So here I go.”
Eleanor stomped her foot down on the wooden floor and threw herself upon James. Her mouth enclosed James’ and she kissed him hard. Deeply and hard. Her face puckered up as she tasted the flavor of sick in his mouth.
Sarah stifled a laugh with her hand. She looked down at Carson whose face was crunched up in disgust. Sarah noticed that Doc Stinson wore the same expression as he rushed out of the room.<
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Eleanor sat up on the end of the cot. She touched her lips while her tongue ran around the inside of her mouth. She tried to hide the fact that she was sickened from kissing a freshly vomited mouth. But it didn’t last. She turned and spewed over James’ legs onto the floor. James watched her and then he began to retch. Then he hung his head over the same side of the cot and followed suit.
Sarah laughed out loud now. There seemed to be no need to hide the hilarity in the moment. Carson apparently didn’t think any of it was funny. He folded his one good arm in front of his chest, imitating Sarah’s displeased posture from earlier. Sarah noticed and thought it was so cute. She messed Carson’s hair and told him she was heading home. Sarah left the room.
Carson just stared at James and Eleanor as they spasmed in unison. He shook his head in disgust and followed in Sarah’s footsteps.
Chapter 50
James slammed the cards down. Carson won again. James thought he had a chance to win since he got to shuffle today. With Carson’s arm still bandaged up, James volunteered to handle the dealing responsibility. In the back of James’ mind, Carson may have had the upper hand in the past because he controlled the cards from start to finish. But it didn’t matter.
Carson smiled at James. “I told you to pay attention.”
James ignored the taunt. He paid attention every time they played cards. He hated that Carson reminded him anyway.
His mother was working down the hall. It hadn’t taken her long to get back to work after returning from the farm. She had girls to manage and customers to attend to. Money was money and Sarah wanted to make as much as she could.
They had debated last night whether they would stay here in Wichita or move on. So much had taken place in such a short period of time. And while the townspeople seemed to be okay with James now that he removed the gunslinger, they still weren’t sure if this was the right place to settle down. It might be a better idea to just pull up and head out to another location. A place that would provide them with another fresh start. Of course, they couldn’t do anything until Carson healed.
“James, where are we going?”
“I don’t know, buddy.”
“But mommy and you was arguing last night. She said we could leave.”
“We talked about possibilities, not actually leaving.”
“But I don’t want to stay here with Elnor.”
“It’s Eleanor. And why would we stay here with her?”
“You’re in love with her. Mommy said so.”
James smiled. He didn’t know if he loved Eleanor. But he was definitely fond of her. He still couldn’t believe that an older woman liked him. She gave him his first kiss, even if it made her puke afterward. He chuckled. It was kind of funny that he made her sick on their first kiss.
“Eleanor is a good friend. You don’t have to worry about her taking me away from you, pal. I’ll always be with you.”
“Maybe.”
James read the hurt in his tone.
“I know I lied to you in the past and left you behind. But I won’t do it again. You saved my life, Carson. I’ll never forget that. You’re my hero.”
Carson looked up at James with a serious expression. Then he cracked a little smirk of approval.
“I need you when I fight the bad guys. We are a team now. Just like we always dreamed about.”
Carson smiled wider. “Okay. Deal again.”
“Do we have to play another game? Can’t we just talk or something?”
“Talkin’ is for cowards. Deal.”
Carson slapped his good hand on the table. James rolled his eyes and sighed. He went about shuffling the deck several times to ensure a good mix. James dealt the cards. They both inspected their hands. Carson’s face was stoic. James raised an eyebrow as he studied his cards. He thought he might have him this time.
James laid his hand down. Two aces over two kings. He beamed down at Carson. “Beat that!”
Carson’s tongue squirmed out and he tilted his head. He slowly laid his cards down over James’. A straight flush.
James rocked back in his chair. He let out a slow whistle. Carson grinned. James threw the cards back into the pile.
“Back to square one.” James admitted defeat.
“Hey!” Carson protested vehemently.
James started laughing.
Director’s Cut
So what did you think of the second installment?
I love these characters. They feel so real to me. Not that the characters in any of the other stories I write don’t. But I am definitely drawn to James and Sarah and Carson.
I’ve been told not to write these books because they probably won’t sell. Western Horror is a minuscule, niche genre with fickle readers. And I respond, “So what.” These characters need to live and their stories need to be told. Plain and simple. If I only wrote what would sell, then you would find a lot more romantic-zombie-thriller-erotica titles under my name.
And I am not alone.
I met fellow authors, Gary Jonas and Sam Witt in Austin, Texas. Both writers have shown faith in the Western Horror genre with the Night Marshal Series and the Pitchfork County Series, respectively. Then I met Jonathan Janz and Kristopher Rufty in Williamsburg, Virginia. Janz’s novel, Dust Devils, and Rufty’s novel, Seven Buried Hill, are two more examples of fun Western Horror stories. And do I need to mention Joe R. Lansdale or Stephen King? You might want to check their back catalogs for related stories.
So where are you going with this, Mr. Buda?
Not sure. But the stories are there for a reason. Because they need to be told. And you need to read them. What better mash-up could there be than Western and Horror? Some prefer Cowboys and Aliens but I don’t. I did enjoy the movie but the Old West was scary as it was. Folks trying to carve out a new life for their families. Against the terrain, the elements, the natives and each other. Now sprinkle in some vampires or demons or even zombies. And now you’ve got something scary.
Sarah and Carson were developed more in this book. I had plans for them to become more integral from the beginning but I figured it would be too much for the first book. James had to establish himself as the lead character before I could complicate the tales. Of course, we’ve now seen James mature more too. He is finally realizing that the glorious life of a media hero ain’t all its cracked up to be. People start to peck away at him when he gets more exposure. They second guess his choices and pass judgment without walking a mile in his boots. Sounds familiar to many present-day stories, no?
Well, pull up yer britches and hold on to yer hat because the next story is going to get crazy. I have more in store for James and Carson. Things are about to get a whole lot more complicated.
I hope you enjoyed reading The Haunted Gunslinger. And if you haven’t read Curse of the Ancients, then you have about two months to go grab a copy and catch yourself up. The West is gonna get wild. YEEHAW!
Chuck Buda
P.S. I hope you will join us in Book 3 to find out what lurks beneath the tombstones.
I feel safer with you by my side.
Summoner of Souls
James Johnson, illegitimate son of the legendary Wyatt Earp, brings his mentally disabled friend, Carson, to Dodge City. The size of the town is overwhelming. And so are the potential dangers.
Unable to secure a place to stay, the boys accept the hospitality of the local preacher. But not all holy men are what they seem. Some souls belong to the devil.
James and Carson must defeat the possessed before the demon hits the Chisholm Trail.
Will James and Carson unite to battle the demon? Or will their family be torn apart by a preacher who serves a dark lord?
This is a spine-tingling tale of supernatural horror.
Read this book to continue the terrifying series today!
Summoner of Souls is the third novel in the Son of Earp series by Chuck Buda. It is approximately 56,000 words and contains adult language and scenes of horror. Reader discretion is heavily a
dvised.
Summoner of Souls
By Chuck Buda
Edited by Jenny Adams
Copyright © Chuck Buda (2016).
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any semblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The author has taken great liberties with locales including the creation of fictional towns.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.
The author greatly appreciates you taking the time to read his work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought this book, or telling your friends or blog readers about this book to help spread the word.
Thank you for supporting my work. Without you the story would not be told.
Cover art by Phil Yarnall /SMAYdesign.com
Contents
Summoner of Souls
Copyright
Dedication
Special Thanks
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
