Ghost Mine

by Hunter Shea

  “What did you go and do that for?” I asked.

  “To see if my head was completely clear. I don’t want to be in those mines if I can’t protect myself.”

  “If they’re full of snakes, you’ve proven yourself. Get in so Matthias can drive.”

  The engine roared back to life and we resumed our dusty trek. It felt like Matthias was pushing the car as fast as it would go. I looked past his shoulder at the speedometer. We were definitely double-timing it.

  But no matter how fast we went, the hills never got any closer. After a good ten minutes, Matthias stopped again. I checked the crag and it was most assuredly farther away.

  “I don’t believe it,” Matthias said, throwing his goggles on the ground. “They took Selma.

  We’re going exactly where they want us to go. So why make it impossible to get there?”

  It was Teta who figured it out. “They’re playing for time. Probably setting a damn good trap. Maybe one we can’t get out of.”

  I got out of the car and heaved a great wad of spit. If everything here was somehow connected to whatever was in the mines and in the town, I wanted to show it as much disrespect as I could muster. It was a puny thing to do, but the place had me feeling puny – and old.

  “At least we have something to eat,” Angus said, leaning out of the car.

  The snake Teta had killed was exactly where we had left it. Matthias’s mouth dropped open.

  “Don’t look a gift bull snake in the mouth,” I said. “You three set here. I’m going to go for a little walk, see if that changes things. I’ll circle back in an hour.”

  Any objection died on Teta’s lips the moment our eyes met. Instead, he tossed me the rifle and I headed on foot to the hills.

  * * *

  The sun baked any horse blood I’d neglected to wash off the back of my neck. When I went to scratch it, red flakes buried themselves under my fingernails. My clothes smelled something fierce and when a breeze hit me head on, my eyes watered.

  I kept a steady pace that was just shy of jogging, determined to gain some ground on the hills. I hadn’t realized I was talking out loud, and when I did, I kept the conversation going.

  “Are you afraid of me? One man with a gun and a rifle? Come on, you chickenshits. Maybe if I was a defenseless woman you’d let me in.”

  The sun was heading west and I no longer trusted its movement in the sky to tell me the time of day. For all I knew, it would bounce off the hills and roll across the plain, taking the light with it.

  “I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not afraid of you. You’ve pissed off the wrong man.”

  When I thought of Selma, and the fear in her eyes when she was dragged out of the house, I wanted to shout my fool head off.

  Instead, I whispered, as if my voice could be carried by the wind and secreted to her so only she could hear me say, “I’m coming for you, Selma. Your husband and your father may have abandoned you, but that won’t happen with me. You stay strong. I’ll be there soon.”

  But it became abundantly clear that I wouldn’t. Despite having walked so long and hard that my feet ached, I hadn’t gotten one step closer to the hills. I stopped and stared at them, trying to picture in my mind where Selma could be. Was she even alive? I couldn’t bring myself to think otherwise.

  I turned and headed back for the car.

  Angus was tending to a fire. He had stabbed chopped portions of the snake onto the ends of three sturdy sticks. The skin had flaked off and the meat dripped juices into the flames.

  When Angus saw me, he pulled one from the fire and offered it to me. I waved it off.

  My stomach wasn’t right for food. “No luck?” Teta said.

  I shook my head. “Then we wait.”

  Matthias sat in the rumble seat with an umbrella over his head to keep the sun off him. He was reading a small, leather-bound Bible and looked the part of a church lady at the park. He didn’t even glance my way.

  I took off my shirt and asked Teta for the whiskey. Even though we’d packed for war, I knew he had a bottle on him.

  “You think it’s a good idea to get tight now?” he asked.

  “It’s for my shirt. I want to get some of the stink off.” I poured a little whiskey on the bloodstains and hooked the collar on the edge of the car’s window so it could air out. I also kicked off my boots to give my feet a chance to breathe.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a nice, cold creek,” I said.

  Angus smiled. Bits of snake meat dangled between his teeth. That smile was more sinister than any war face I’d ever seen a man make in the heat of battle. Hecla had its wild men. We had Angus. Things could be worse.

  Night came fast, or maybe it was just my imagination. I no longer cared. Matthias finally closed up his umbrella and stuffed his Bible in the front seat. Teta and I watched the flames, listening to the wood pop.

  “Read anything good?” I asked when Matthias sat between us. Angus lay on his back, cradling his head in his hands. He’d nodded off not long after eating the entire snake.

  “I gave Revelations a thorough rereading and I’ve come to the conclusion that what Angus heard was not the Trumpets of Armageddon.”

  “No shit,” Teta said, snapping a stick and throwing it in the fire.

  I wondered how long Matthias had been a reverend, if he needed to reacquaint himself with one of the more popular books of the Bible. More proof he waved that title around for show.

  “It was a call,” he continued, “but it’s not one heralding the end of mankind. I’d bet that Angus was the only person outside of Hecla who heard it, on account of his special abilities. The question now is, why?”

  “That’s all we’ve been asking ourselves since we got here,” I said. “Maybe you should ask the spirits in your little box, they being closer to the unknown, so to speak.”

  Matthias didn’t take the bait.

  Teta said, “That reminds me, jefe. I found something in that book Teddy gave you, but I forgot all about it. It’s not much.”

  “Spit it. Any little bit helps,” I said.

  He gingerly removed his sombrero and laid it on the ground, brushing dust off with the back of his hand. “I found out that Hecla is actually named after a volcano in Iceland. Except there, it’s Hekla with a k instead of a c. Most of the book is a Norse story about a king who laid down a lot of laws and regulations. Pretty boring stuff.”

  “Where the hell is Iceland?”

  “In the Atlantic ocean, way off the coast of Canada. Hekla, the volcano, was very active, especially a thousand years ago. When it would erupt, it would spill fire and smoke and great walls of steam would fill the sky when the flames and lava came in contact with the snow and ice. Nothing could be seen for miles, but everyone could hear the volcano burst like thunder from the gods. It was terrifying.”

  “Please don’t tell me there are volcanoes here too,” I said.

  “Lucky for us, no. Here’s the thing. It was believed that Hekla, the place where the world seemed to split open and rain death and destruction, was actually one of the two gates of hell on earth. People heard more than explosions in the mist and heat. They heard the cries of the damned and the shouting of demons.”

  The wind began to pick up and whistled as it raced across the valley. Matthias leaned into Teta, hanging on his every word. Even Angus had stirred. The firelight made hideous shadows on his wide face.

  “So why on earth would they name the town after that?” I asked, not really sure I wanted to know the answer.

  Matthias answered before Teta could take a breath. “Because maybe they knew that this was the second gate to hell.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  I didn’t need a gate to know that we had been living in hell on earth for the past several days. I wasn’t much for fire and brimstone, or salvation, for that matter. Swallowing the story abo
ut Hekla, and Hecla, was a little more than I could take. I said to Teta, “You sure that’s all there was in there?”

  “From what I could tell.”

  “That Teddy can be one odd duck.”

  “Who is this Teddy person you keep talking about?” Matthias asked.

  “None of your business,” we said at the same time.

  Matthias raised his hands in surrender. “What do you propose we do now?”

  I looked at the sky and the now-full moon that shone brightly. It shouldn’t have been a full moon at all, not at this time of the month. Again, I didn’t know what to trust. When the heavens could be manipulated, all bets were off.

  My tobacco pouch was pretty low. There was just enough for three cigarettes, four if I made them small. “You fellas smoke?”

  They shook their heads. “Tobacco is a poison and I try to keep my body free of anything that can befoul it. It is a temple, after all,” Matthias said.

  “No skin off my ass,” I said, rolling one for Teta, then myself. I bent close to the fire to light it and took a deep drag, holding the smoke for as long as my lungs would allow. For all I knew, this would be my last cigarette and I wanted to savor it.

  “I think that whatever has been controlling things will come to us when it’s good and ready. Until that time, we might as well get some rest.” I lay back and tilted my hat over my eyes.

  “How can you sleep?” Matthias asked.

  “Easy. Just do what I do.”

  I felt him staring at me, but I was all talked out. All I wanted was a little sleep and hoped that my mind could work a way out of our situation. The moment I closed my eyes, I saw Selma and the way she’d smiled when we first saw her at the ranch. It was easy to obsess with worry, but she needed me strong if I was going to have a chance at saving her. So I only thought good things, and soon drifted off.

  * * *

  I woke up clinging to the remains of a dream about working a cattle drive. My ears pounded from the thunder of all those heads of cattle rushing in a dangerous mass. I felt the horse beneath me, smelled the shit and dust, tasted copper in my mouth from where I’d bitten my lip as I worked the herd. Years of working the Chisholm Trail never left a man, and it wasn’t unusual to find myself back there where life was hard but I’d never felt freer.

  When I opened my eyes, Teta did the same. He fastened his sombrero on his head and got to a knee.

  The fire was just orange embers.

  The ground carried the subtle vibrations of an oncoming herd.

  “Guess I wasn’t dreaming,” I said, rising to my feet. I gave Angus and Matthias a nudge with my boot. It was still dark out. A hint of something foul drifted in the air.

  I offered my hand to help Matthias up. “Looks like it’s time.”

  “What’s that sound?”

  “Something’s coming, but I don’t think it’s cattle.”

  “We better get in the car.”

  For once, Matthias had a good idea. The steady rumble grew louder, which meant whatever was on its way was getting closer. Teta asked, “Do we run? Try to find higher ground?”

  “No sense. This plain is flat as my Aunt Abigail. Might as well face it head on. Matthias, you should have a gun.”

  “I don’t believe in firearms.”

  The sounds of metal scraping on metal made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Angus slid a pair of long machetes and a curved, silver cavalry sword out from under the front seat. He handed one to Matthias. The spirit-box boys were full of surprises.

  “You use that to battle spirits?”

  Matthias gave a quick laugh, but there was real panic in his eyes. “Spirits are easy. It’s people we can’t always trust.”

  You couldn’t have enough weapons. I motioned with my fingers to hand over the sword.

  Angus gave it to me, handle first. I could see it had some wear and tear. The herd, for lack of a better description, was coming from the west. “Matthias, turn the car around so we’re facing it.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “Just turn it,” Angus snapped, startling all of us. His meaty hand flexed as he adjusted his grip on the machete. Matthias kept talking about his special abilities. I hoped being a master with a killing blade was one of them.

  Matthias started the car and made a tight turn. Teta and I stood in the rumble seat. He had the Winchester at the ready. I pointed the shotgun into the darkness. My shoulders tensed and I forced myself to relax them. If I was going to be shooting, I couldn’t do it all locked up.

  Angus stood on the running board with the machete at his side. He held on to the window frame to keep his balance. Matthias gripped the wheel, the machete across his lap. We waited. The ground vibrated. I could feel it in my bones. The smell was getting worse. It was the stench of death. It reminded me of our time in Santiago, sitting aboard ship, surrounded by men dying with malaria, left to rot in their own waste. “Come on, you little putas,” Teta hissed.

  Matthias revved the engine. I wished we had a cattle catcher mounted to the front. Hell, I wished we were on a train. The added weight and height would have us in a good position.

  Angus shouted, “Here they come!” It was what I feared most.

  “Matthias, I need you to drive straight into them.”

  “Have you gone mad? We may as well sign our own death warrants!”

  “That’s what they told us at Kettle Hill, yet here we stand. Sometimes the move that seems the least logical is the one that gets you to the other side.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Now do it.”

  He hunched closer to the wheel and put his goggles on.

  About a hundred yards ahead of us, an army of those wild men stampeded. Their scarlet eyes bounced in the dark as they loped toward us. They ranged between seven and ten feet tall. Locked together like that, they looked like a wild herd of upright buffalo.

  Of all the ways I’d dreamt I’d die, this had never been a consideration.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The wild men came at us, snarling and hollering for all the world to hear. My blood ran cold as their menacing cries hammered my skull. They had long, powerful arms that looked as if they could break a man in two as easily as swatting a fly. The moon glinted off their jagged teeth and my flesh crawled thinking about them tearing into me.

  “Matthias, now!”

  The car jumped forward and Teta and I nearly lost our balance.

  The surge of wild men seemed to stall the moment they saw us riding to them.

  When they were only ten yards away, Teta fired the first shot. It took off the top of one of their heads. The beast twirled from the bullet’s impact. Its body became a cyclonic, black mist that scattered into the wind.

  “Holy crap, they explode!” Teta screamed, then took down the one next to it.

  I pulled the shotgun’s trigger and caught two closely packed wild men right in their stomachs. They turned to smoke the moment they left their feet.

  We hit the first line of wild men. Their bodies battered the car with resounding thuds before careening off into twisting mist.

  “Hallelujah!” Matthias whooped.

  Angus held his machete out so it was at chest height of the wild men. The momentum of the car and the strength of his arm allowed him to cut a dozen down in just a few seconds. Teta and I continued to pump round after round into the horde. The creatures parted like the Dead Sea as we cut through the masses.

  One of them managed to drive a fist into the front windshield. A web of cracks fanned out across the glass.

  “They’re coming up behind us!” Teta said.

  Sure enough, the ones we had passed, that we had failed to kill, were on our tail, running faster than any horse.

  One of them leapt for me. Its sharp-nailed fingers got hold of my leg and tore a long rip down the front of my jeans. I sw
ear it smiled at me just before I put a bullet between its red eyes. My leg felt like it was on fire. I looked down to see a jagged trail of blood between the open flaps of my jeans.

  Angus grunted and I turned to see one of the creatures clamp its teeth on his forearm.

  Teta spun and blasted it in the face, missing Angus’s arm by a curly hair.

  They may rupture into harmless vapor when they were mortally struck, but they could still inflict pain. Somehow, Angus managed to hold on to the machete and was back to slashing them into nothing at an alarming rate. Even Matthias cut a few down while keeping steady at the wheel.

  No matter how many Teta and I shot at the rear, an endless number of beasts took their place. We were going to run out of bullets fast.

  As I suspected, we were making progress toward the hills. Whatever magic that had kept us at bay was now happy to suck us in – if we could get past the bloodthirsty wild men.

  “Matthias, give me your machete!” I barked.

  He handed it back to me without a moment’s hesitation. I gave it to Teta.

  “Save ammo,” I said, having to shout to be heard above the din of the speeding car and the howling mass of wild men.

  We hacked away at them like butchers in a contest to see who could chop off the most steaks. The only blood was our own as they clawed at us. Four had managed to get a handle on the rear end of the car. I took the one on the extreme left, Teta the one on the extreme right. The other two used their powerful arms to propel themselves into the rumble seat with us. We collapsed in a pile, slamming into the front seats.

  Matthias lost control and the car started to spin.

  I was nose to nose with what looked to be a caveman. I’d seen depictions in museums back in New York, and its face was more human than I cared to consider. I clung to the fur that sprouted from its neck to keep its jaws from closing on my face. Thick, horrendous-smelling drool spattered onto my lips. We rocked from side to side as the car went out of control. Matthias screamed something. My machete was useless at this close range and my hands were too busy to reach for my pistol.