Ghost Mine

by Hunter Shea

  “Do you think the barrier is down?”

  “More like it just let another couple of fools into its trap,” I said.

  With a high-pitched squeal of metal on metal, the car pulled to a stop some twenty feet from us. A dirty, brown cloud of dust rolled over the car, hiding it from view for a few seconds. When it cleared, I could see the car better. It had an exposed engine with four heavy, round cylinders on each side. I imagined that the dry terrain would play hell with it. Long running boards ran along each side and there was a slightly raised rumble seat in the back. The tires were bigger than I’d seen on regular cars and narrow. It resembled the skeleton of a much larger car.

  The driver leapt out and approached us, halting when he spied Teta’s shotgun.

  “Did we just ride into a Wild West show?” the driver said. He removed a pair of thick goggles and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. He was tall and lean with slicked-back hair that had more grease in it than the gears of a locomotive. A thick handlebar mustache framed razor-thin lips. Something about him screamed big money. Maybe it was the car, or the clipped accent, I wasn’t sure.

  “You’re not that lucky,” I said.

  He clapped his gloved hands. “Cowboys and a cowgirl! This is unexpected.”

  Teta asked, “How did you get here?”

  The man looked at Teta as if he’d asked the most nonsensical question ever dreamt up. “With the help of my Buffum Roadster. You did see me drive up, didn’t you? It’s right behind me, see?”

  I saw Teta’s grip tighten on the shotgun. If he thought he was being made fun of, he could get mean in a hurry. I wasn’t in the mood to talk him down.

  “I mean, how did you get through?”

  The man cocked an eyebrow so high it almost reached his hairline. “Through? I just— drove. It’s what one does when one is at the wheel of the finest car money can buy, eight cylinders of pure, unadulterated power. Why, if I had an actual road to drive on, I could go up to eighty miles an hour. It’s a beautiful piece of machinery. I would have gotten here sooner if I didn’t have to travel over God’s untamed country. I’ll have to take it in to have the shocks redone.”

  Selma looked at me as if to say, Is this man out of his mind?

  “You said you would have gotten here sooner,” I said. “Does that mean you were intentionally coming out to Hecla?”

  He looked around, unfazed by the fact that his destination was a town in ruins. “Is that what this place is called? Hecla. Odd name. The answer is, yes, this is where my companion and I have been headed ever since we heard the Trumpets of Armageddon.”

  Trumpets of Armageddon?

  Selma said, “When did you hear these trumpets?”

  He smiled and regarded her with a patriarchal air. “Why, it was just the other day. Were you here at the time?”

  “Yes. May I ask where you were when you heard them?” I said.

  I suddenly remembered that terrible howling that erupted when the ground shook.

  Funny how I could forget it. My mind had other puzzles to decode.

  “My companion and I were up near Medicine Bow. We had a...business engagement when we heard it clear as day.”

  “But Medicine Bow has to be more than ninety miles away!” Selma said.

  “One hundred nine, if I can trust my odometer,” he said. He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand and cried, “Where are my manners? Please, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Reverend Matthias Manning. My strong but silent companion is Angus Ibbs.” He motioned for his friend to join us.

  The car tilted to one side and groaned as Angus shifted himself out of the passenger seat. Angus was as broad as a barn, squat and thick, with a bald head burned by the sun and thick sideburns that sat like lost islands in a sea of flesh. His eyes were set deep under his brow and he approached us with a slow, even gait. The man was a beast. I expected he could lift a cow over his head just to pass the time.

  He carried a wooden chest under one arm. It looked like something a pirate would use to store gold and stolen booty.

  “Angus, I’d like you to meet—”

  I put my hand to the brim of my hat and said, “I’m Nat Blackburn, and this is Selma Smartwood and Teta Delacruz.”

  Angus cocked his cannonball head. “Your name is Tit?”

  “Language,” the reverend scolded.

  Teta said nothing. He was still deciding what to make of our visitors and I’m sure curious as to how they were able to get here so easily.

  “I know the horn, or whatever you called it, was loud, but I’m having a hard time believing you heard it all the way in Medicine Bow,” I said. “And even if you did, Reverend, what makes you think it came from here?”

  “Please, call me Matthias. Titles can be so restricting. To your point, I, in fact, didn’t hear the trumpet. The hearing and the locating of its origin all fall under Angus’s purview. He’s, shall we say, gifted in peculiar ways.”

  “What were you hoping to find?” Selma asked.

  Angus stood mute, a statue of flesh. I guess one of his talents wasn’t conversing.

  “The Horsemen of the Apocalypse? A dragon called from Satan’s realm? An as-yet-undiscovered anomaly? Who’s to say? It’s the mystery that compelled us to come. ‘And the heavens departed as a scroll when it is rolled together, and every mountain and island were taken from their place’.”

  I was beginning to wonder if they were just another creation born of the twisted heart of Hecla. It was getting to the point where I couldn’t trust my own eyes and ears anymore. Maybe if I shot one in the leg just to see if they bled.

  “You picked a bad time to visit,” Teta said. “This place doesn’t play nice with people.”

  Matthias looked around. “Oh, I can see that. Or rather, I can feel it.”

  I said, “Understanding that, you drove a long way to get here. And even though we just met, I need to ask a favor of you.”

  “I live to serve.” He made a slight bow and a greased lock of hair flipped over his face.

  “My friends and I have come across some difficulties getting past the town limits. Seeing that you didn’t have any problems with your motor car, I was wondering if you could get them to Laramie.”

  Selma tugged at my arm. “We’re not leaving without you.”

  “There isn’t room for all of us. Someone has to stay behind.”

  “What kind of difficulty did you encounter?” Matthias asked. “A painful kind,” Teta answered.

  Matthias sucked on his teeth and considered my request. He eyed the car, then us.

  “It shouldn’t take long. I’m sure whatever mysteries are here can wait,” he said. “I’ll leave Angus with you, Mr. Blackburn.”

  “Nat.”

  “Nat. I should be back in time for supper.”

  “I’d be much obliged.”

  I avoided Teta’s and Selma’s gazes. There was no room for arguing. If this half-mad preacher could get them out of Hecla without me, they were just going to have to lump it. Things were escalating here, and I didn’t want the blood of their fate on my hands.

  “Well, no better time than the present. I’ll get her started.”

  Matthias strode over to his car while Angus plopped his pirate’s chest down and sat upon it.

  “Let Selma go,” Teta said. “I’ll stay with you.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not leaving Selma alone with him. He says he’s a reverend and can quote Scripture, but that doesn’t tell me squat about the man. Be sure to let him know when to slow down. I don’t want you in a car wreck if the barrier is still up.”

  Teta’s face paled. “Okay, but as soon as I get to Laramie and drop Selma off at her ranch, I’m coming back.”

  I smiled. “I expect nothing less.”

  Matthias gave his horn two quick honks. His goggles were back in place and he
’d fastened a leather cap on his head.

  “You better go,” I said to Selma. She looked at me with pleading eyes, daring me to crack. I stayed firm.

  “I’m going to be sick with worry,” she said.

  I put my hands on her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I can take care of myself, even in a place like this. Besides, I have Angus now. He’s better than a scarecrow.”

  A lone tear brimmed in her eye. She tried to laugh but lowered her head to wipe her tear away.

  “Promise you’ll stop by the ranch when you get back to Laramie?”

  “I will. Now go on, before Matthias changes his mind.”

  Selma sat in the front passenger seat while Teta took the rumble seat. Knowing him, there’d be a gun quietly trained on Matthias’s back. I waved at them as they sped off eastward.

  Damn, that car was fast.

  I turned to the mountain of a man and said, “Well, that just leaves us.” Angus lowered his heavy eyelids in reply.

  There was a soft, muffled moan and I could have sworn the chest moved slightly under Angus’s considerable weight. I looked down at it, then at him.

  “You mind telling me what’s in the chest?”

  The sound of a woman sobbing was definitely coming from the chest. I pulled my pistol and pointed it at Angus.

  “I need you to get off that chest and take three steps back.” Angus looked at me with arctic, dead eyes.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Get off the chest, now!”

  It seemed too small to contain a person, but that was definitely a woman I’d heard crying inside it. Maybe she was very small or, worse, busted up in a way she could be crammed into the chest. I was doubly glad I’d sent Teta with Selma.

  “You do understand the implications of getting shot, don’t you?” I asked.

  Angus stared at me but didn’t move. I couldn’t tell if he could hear or understand me. But he had responded when we’d introduced ourselves. He wasn’t a deaf-mute and he did speak the language.

  “I’ve had a rough few days and my temper is wearing thin. If you don’t do what I say, I’m not going to weep for you when you’re gone.”

  Angus’s shoulders heaved with a big sigh and he slowly got up. He took one short step to the side.

  “A little more, big fella.”

  I could tell by the way his knees locked that he wasn’t moving another inch. I’d just have to move the chest away from him. Keeping my pistol pointed at the center of his burly chest, I walked over to the box and tried to move it aside with my boot.

  It didn’t budge. The damn thing must have weighed well over a hundred pounds. But he’d carried it like he’d had a small sack of flour under his arm.

  It had a thick padlock on the front. Bending down, never taking my eyes off Angus, I tugged on the lock. It was as immovable as the chest.

  “You have a key?”

  Angus continued with his silent treatment.

  Suddenly, something thumped within the chest and it lifted off the ground, slamming back down hard. I jumped back. I had to swallow several times to dislodge my heart from my throat.

  “All right, that’s enough. Give me the key or I’ll shoot the damn lock off!”

  Still Angus didn’t move. It was like talking to the wind. Well, I’d wasted enough time. I moved the barrel of my pistol from his chest to the lock.

  “No!”

  Angus’s hand shot out with superhuman speed. He got my gun hand in a grip that felt like I’d been caught in a bear trap. He crushed my fingers into the steel of the gun and it took everything I had not to cry out in agony.

  He released his grip and my Colt dropped from my mashed hand.

  Angus spoke in a low, pleading voice. “You can’t open the box. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I massaged my hand, trying to chase the pain away. “Well, it’s a little late for that. Don’t think I can’t shoot with my left. Maybe I need to take you out first, before the lock. I’m not going to sit by and listen to a woman trying to get out of that chest.”

  “It’s not...a woman,” he said.

  “And I’m not Momma Blackburn’s pride and joy. Who’s in the chest?”

  I surprised him by retrieving my pistol and drawing on him again with my left hand. I wasn’t as good a shot from the left side, but accuracy wasn’t a problem when your target was the size of a bull and four feet from you.

  “You can shoot me,” he said with a disconcerting air of resignation. “Just don’t open the box.”

  It was a bizarre reply. I was stunned into inaction. I couldn’t recall any man willfully asking me, or anyone, to shoot him. I was growing more certain that Angus and Matthias had sprung from the twisted depths of Hecla and not from Medicine Bow.

  A series of loud beeps from the returning car had us both turning our heads.

  I wasn’t happy to see Teta and Selma in the car. For once, I didn’t want to be proven right.

  The headlights on the car were busted. All of the glass had shattered and the metal casings were squashed flat.

  “Barrier still up?” I asked.

  Teta replied, “Sí,” and jumped out of the car. He saw that my gun was drawn and pulled his own. “Trouble while we were away? That’s record time for you.”

  I returned my attention to the chest. It was quiet now.

  “Looks like our friends have a little surprise,” I said, motioning with my gun to the chest. “I was just trying to convince Angus to open it up so we can see what, or who, is inside.”

  Matthias jogged away from the car and put himself between me and the box. “I strongly advise you, Mr. Blackburn, to desist with your line of inquiry. Nothing, and I mean nothing good can come of it.”

  To my surprise, Selma had gone and picked up my rifle. She had it pointed at Matthias. “What are you so afraid of, Reverend Manning?” she said.

  “That we’ll see the woman they’ve crammed inside and be forced to discuss a matter of justice,” I said.

  Selma said, “A woman? How?”

  “I don’t know, but I heard her clear as day. At one point, she struggled enough to make it move.”

  Teta spit at Angus’s feet. “You like to hurt women? Open it up, now. I never ask twice.”

  “Gentlemen, and lady, if you’ll all just put down your weapons, we can discuss this like civilized adults. You can plainly see that my companion and I possess no weapons of our own. I do believe that your cowboy culture calls for a certain set of rules when it comes to a fair fight. A cowboy code, if you like.”

  “The only cowboys I know who thought fighting had to be fair never lived long enough to learn the error of their ways,” I said.

  But he had a point. With great reluctance, I lowered my gun, but kept it in my hand.

  Teta and Selma did the same.

  Matthias broke out in an enormous grin. “There, don’t you all feel better now? Tension is bad for the body and the soul.”

  “Tell us what’s in the chest or get ready to be very tense, very fast,” Teta said. With all of the shadows and sounds that had been dogging us, I knew he was itching to deal with something he could see, hear and feel. Like me, he was ready to take all his frustrations out on this odd pair if they didn’t make things straight in an expeditious manner.

  Matthias seemed indifferent to Teta’s threat. Instead of revealing the chest’s contents, he asked, “Do you believe in spirits?”

  None of us answered.

  “Let me be clear,” he continued. “By spirits, I don’t mean the type you imbibe. I refer to the continuation of the soul. Phantoms. Ghosts. Surely you have some opinion on the matter.”

  “What does that have to do with the chest?”

  I noticed that Angus had angled a little closer to it. I’d seen how fast he could be. Was he fixing to make a dash with it, knowing we
could easily gun him down from behind? Then again, he had said I could shoot him.

  Matthias planted a foot on the chest and we all heard a soft groan. Except, this time, it sounded like a man.

  Our guns were back up and pointed at Matthias and Angus. Teta had both pistols out and the hammers on each clicked back. Selma’s face was pinched tight with grim determination. I was pretty sure she’d never shot a man before, but you’d never know it from the way she held herself. If they made so much as one suspicious twitch, they were going to be cut down to little, unidentifiable pieces.

  “I think you better speed things up,” I said. “Delays could be hazardous to your health.” Matthias actually smiled and removed his foot. “I take it this is what you heard earlier while I was out getting my car into a bit of a sticky widget. She won’t be much for night driving until I get those headlamps fixed.”

  “Not quite,” I said through gritted teeth. I was beginning to think it would be easier to just shoot them both and get on with waiting for Hecla to play with us like a cat with a canary. Unless, of course, they were a part of Hecla, in which case, I really had no compunction about introducing them to a few bullets. “What I heard before was a bit more feminine.”

  Matthias nodded and said, “Yes, you did say you believed it to be a woman in distress earlier. What you heard was a facsimile of a woman, as well as of a man, for what’s locked in that chest is no longer either. As it is written in the gospel of Luke, ‘Behold my hands and feet, that it is I; handle me and see; for a spirit hath no flesh and bones’. My friends, what is contained in this chest no longer hath flesh, nor bone, but that’s not to say they didn’t before crossing into the realm of the afterworld. The reason we refuse to open the chest is because we cannot unleash the vile spirits that we worked very hard to entrap.

  “Angus and I have made it our life’s work to remove restless, and sometimes destructive, spirits so the living can carry on with their lives without interference from the dead. We were in Medicine Bow because we had been called upon by a Mr. Jedidiah Thompson who believed his factory to be haunted by the spirits of several workers who had burned to death in a fire several years past. These former workers spent a great deal of time and energy sabotaging the machinery of his factory, causing production delays, costly accidents and even the death of one of his workers.