Last Night on Earth

by James Peters

  “That man was twice your size. You may be able to protect yourself in most cases, but the way I saw it, you needed my help.”

  “Is that what you do, help others?”

  I paused in thought. “I try.”

  “Again the question goes back to why?”

  “I’ve seen enough of the ugly side of the world. I’m not gonna allow it to get uglier as long as I’m able to make a difference.”

  “Let me tell you something, Idiom Lee. It’s a cold cosmos out there just waiting to chew up and spit out a backwoods cowboy like you. Take my advice–next time you want to get involved with somebody else’s troubles, turn away and run as fast as you can. I owe you nothing.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t know anything about a cosmos, and you speak like you’ve had a lot of education. But I’ve been out here long enough I’ve learned a few things too. Boys like Clyde and Darrel are going to go straight back to town and report to that dirty Mexican’s boss, Mr. Krenshaw. I’d put bettin’ coin on it; they’ll be back soon with more men, and that’s not even the biggest of our concerns. There’s one hell of a bear, beast, or something out here. I saw it with my own two eyes, and if I’m piecing together what’s happened here, I think you’ve seen it too. That’s why you were hiding in the cellar, am I correct?”

  Ginn’s eyes turned away for a minute, just a hint of fear showing on her face.

  “That’s what I thought. That thing had you pinned down here. You may be as fierce as you believe, and if so we’re better off traveling together, at least until we get some distance between us and here. If we run into that critter and can bring it down, perhaps I can smooth things over with Krenshaw. If not, I’d rather have a hundred miles between me and him, Clyde, and Darrel. Maybe I should just head back east and set up shop there?”

  Ginn crossed her arms. “I don’t need your help. I do not fear beasts.”

  “How about a dozen armed men hell-bent on revenge and raping?”

  Ginn’s face paled, her eyes went toward her feet. She paced around as if in deep thought, before looking me straight in the eye. “I will travel with you, Idiom Lee. For now.”

  “Please, just call me Idiom.”

  “I know a safe place we can go,” Ginn said. “Can your horse carry both of us?”

  “She can barely carry herself. I’ve been riding for a while now. Why don’t you ride first, then we can switch off later.”

  I walked the better part of the night, holding the reins while Ginn rode. When I asked her about her background, she evaded my questions, but she wanted to hear my story. My legs ached as we made our way uphill on the trail. I stumbled more than once, almost tripping over the rocks. Coyotes bayed at the moon in the night, but nothing seemed interested in getting too close to us, thank God. The air became cold, and I caught Ginn shivering.

  “Let’s stop for a moment.” I opened a saddlebag and handed a wool blanket to her. “Here, wrap this around you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your hands are shaking.”

  Ginn wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She didn’t smile, but a hint of surprise shined in her eyes.

  As sunrise approached, she took us to a rocky cavern hidden behind thick undergrowth.

  “It’s safe to rest here,” Ginn said.

  Why is she so certain about this place? “You’re sure we’re not going to find a den of snakes or ill-tempered badgers here?”

  “No promises.”

  “Well, if they’re following us, we shouldn’t stay too long.”

  “Trust me, Idiom. This place is safe. We can sleep well here.”

  “Fine, but I’ll sleep well with my pistols beside me.” I grabbed my sleeping kit, some hard tack leftover from the war, and I followed the sound of flowing water. Eventually I located a cold spring to refill my canteen. By the time I got back to camp, exhaustion overcame me, my eyes grew heavy, and the dark veils closed in.

  My primal dreams repeated themes of fight-or-flight scenes. In one, I was a dog or wolf, chasing after a rabbit to capture it and consume it in full bloody detail. I didn’t wake up after the chase. Instead, I sniffed the air for my next meal or a mate.

  A noise startled me awake. I grabbed my pistols and scanned the dimly lit cavern. Ginn was gone. I got up to search and found her drinking from the spring. Water ran down her chin, and with it, a dark dripping liquid. Her face looked fierce at first, and then it softened.

  “Trouble sleeping?” Ginn asked, wiping water from her face. As she did, her dress drooped down. A round scar, long since healed, ran over her right shoulder.

  I pointed to it. “Ouch. That must have hurt.”

  “It was nothing.” I noticed a similar scar on her back.

  “Nothing? That looks like something went straight through.”

  “It looks worse than it was. You should go back to sleep. We have a long way to travel tomorrow.”

  I bowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I awoke to the smell of wood burning and the sound of fat sizzling. Ginn cooked a rabbit on a spit over a small fire. My stomach rumbled. “That smells good,” I said.

  “I figured you’d want your rabbit cooked.”

  I tried to be funny and charming. “Yeah, raw meat makes my tummy tumble.” She didn’t even blink, and I frowned.

  Ginn handed me the wooden stick. “I’ve already eaten. That one is for you.. It’s past noon and we have a long distance to cover before we reach our next safe place.”

  “This safe place of yours. Care to tell me more about it?”

  “It’s high on a ridge, with only one way in. If anybody is following us, we’ll be able to see them long before they can reach us.”

  “Smart.” I took my bowie knife to the rabbit and sliced a strip of flesh from it, finding several large holes in the meat about a half inch in diameter. How did she killed you?

  “I’ll get the horse packed while you’re finishing. Don’t keep me waiting long.”

  “Give me a few minutes.” I scarfed it down like I hadn’t eaten in days, freshened up a bit at the spring, and returned to find her ready to go with all our gear loaded on the old mare.

  We walked the horse for the first hour, and then I let Ginn ride for a while. I welcomed the warmth of the sun on my face. Our approach startled a group of pheasants, and they flew off, making a loud drumming sound with their wings and a ruck-cuck call as they scattered.

  I rode for a few minutes prior to stopping for a rest. Ginn spotted a stream in the distance, long before I could see it. She led us to it. We drank our fill and refilled our canteens.

  After finding some wood sorrel plants, Ginn washed the leaves off in the stream. “Chew on these if you get hungry.”

  “If we boil the roots, they’ll taste something like potatoes,” I said.

  “We’re not stopping to boil water now.”

  “Don’t you think potatoes sound better than raw leaves? Warm, soft potatoes, or nasty raw leaves?” I smiled trying to lighten the mood.

  Ginn bent down and stared at the dirt. “If anyone is after us, they won’t have much trouble tracking this horse.”

  “You think someone is tracking us?”

  “Maybe. Something doesn’t seem right, that’s all. I haven’t seen anything, but it’s too quiet behind us.”

  A cool breeze nearly took my hat. “Quiet is good in my book. Most men can’t walk twenty steps without stomping on something or breaking a twig.”

  “Let’s just keep moving,” Ginn said. “I’m concerned about what this horse leaves behind. Both in prints and waste. I could follow my nose to her from a mile away.”

  “We can let her go, but that means we have to carry any gear we want to keep, and that will slow us down.”

  Ginn glanced up toward the sun, then at her own shadow. “We’ll keep her for now.”

  “Fine,” I said, stuffing a handful of nasty greens into my mouth. I chewed a few bites. “I guess this will do. If it’s good enough for a horse, it’s good enough for me.” I
tucked several of the roots into my pocket.

  “You’ll live. I’ll catch you a rabbit or squirrel later. If you’re good and quiet, maybe I’ll get you a deer.” Ginn released a tiny laugh; her lip lifted for an instant.

  “Mmm, venison. I’ll be good,” I said. “Let’s move. The faster we get there, the faster I get dinner.”

  After several more hours of travel, we arrived at Ginn’s safe spot. We camped high on a ridge with a clear view of anyone who might follow us. I built a small fire and boiled some water in a cast iron pan, cooking the roots. Ginn assured me she’d be back soon with whatever she could catch. I hadn’t noticed her carrying a weapon, but she seemed confident in her abilities, and she had provided a rather tasty rabbit earlier that day. What would she bring back? Worst case, I had roots boiling.

  I looked after the mare and didn’t like what I saw. She’d lost a shoe and favored that leg when she walked. Her eyes looked even more tired than before, and she wasn’t eating enough. I’d give her a few days, at best.

  Ginn had been gone for over an hour. The roots had boiled and gotten soft, so I saved her half of them and ate the others. They were acceptable, and not entirely un-potato like. I kicked my boots off and leaned on my pack while the fire crackled and sizzled. Fast approaching footsteps caught my attention. I put my hands on my Colts in case of an unwanted visitor. Sighing in relief, I recognized Ginn approaching, but my reaction was too early. As she grew closer, I saw that she’d been running, her eyes were wide and her face pale.

  Ginn raised a finger to her mouth. “Men are coming,” she said in a hushed tone. “At least a dozen. They have a Cherokee tracker guiding them up a ledge I thought impassable.”

  I put my boots back on. My heart raced in my chest, and my eyes opened wide. “How far away?”

  “We’ve got maybe a half hour.”

  “A dozen men? Those are dead man’s odds.”

  “We only have to hold them off for a few hours. Help is on the way,” Ginn said.

  “What do you mean? Who’s coming?”

  “My friends. They’re on their way to pick me up.”

  “Ginn, we’re in the absolute middle of nowhere. There’s not a telegram line for a hundred miles, and you’re saying a coach is on its way? How is that possible?”

  “We don’t have time to discuss this. Trust me, a coach, as you called it, is coming, but those men will get here first.”

  I unhooked my rifle from the horse’s pack and released the magazine. It contained all five rounds. I checked my ammo belt. Another six cartridges for the rifle and about a dozen extra rounds for the pistols. It wasn’t much. “I’ve got eleven rounds for the rifle, and each pistol holds six rounds, but if this comes down to a gunfight against twelve men…”

  “There were at least twelve,” Ginn said, interrupting.

  “Thanks for that.” I spat on the ground. “Listen, I’m good with a gun, but I’d be lucky to take out three of them before they got me. How are your shooting skills?”

  “I can shoot a rifle better than a pistol,” Ginn said.

  “Fine. You take this.” I handed her my rifle and the extra rounds for it. “We need to find some defendable ground.”

  “This isn’t your battle. You don’t have to do this. Go back the way we came. If you run, you have a good chance of getting away.”

  My pulse raced, and I spoke louder than I wanted to, waving a finger at her. “If you think I’d even consider leaving you to fend for yourself, I haven’t done a good job of demonstrating the kind of man I am. Of course it’s my battle. Those men are after me for killing the Mexican.”

  “It’s me they’re after.”

  “Look, Ginn, you’re pretty, and if you were cleaned up in a nice dress, you’d probably be called beautiful. But twelve or more men don’t go to that much trouble just to chase a lovely lady.”

  She bit her lip and raised her arms, holding her palms upward. “You think you’re being brave, but you are just being stupid.”

  “I’ve been called worse and lived to tell about it.”

  “Let’s hope we can live to tell about this. There’s a small ravine not far from here with some boulders we can use for cover. It’s not much, but it’s better than being in the open.”

  I nodded, grabbed the mare’s harness and led her to the ravine. Ginn got there first, and I worked my way behind a rock the size of a small cow. My hands twitched as we waited. I planned out where I’d expect the men to come from and lined up my shots to practice. I even checked the little Derringer to be certain it was loaded and ready for use, though I hoped things wouldn’t get that desperate. I touched the handle of the knife in my boot, just to be certain it was still there, too. No harm in double checking. Placing my hand over the Bible in my vest pocket, I prayed. God, if you’re listenin’, I’ve got some big trouble coming. Any chance you can give a fellow a hand here? I know I haven’t read much of your book, but I try to do more good than bad. If not, I’m likely to be seein’ you soon.

  When a shot rang out in the night, I gasped and shuddered. The round struck the old mare in the chest. She released a sad whinny, and then fell over, dead. Oh, come on! Did I do something to anger the god of horses?!

  “Idiom Lee, let me assure you that shot could have hit you just as easily as it hit the horse.” I recognized the voice. Krenshaw!

  I tried to get a glimpse of where Krenshaw was, but I couldn’t be certain as his voice echoed. The best I could figure, he was hiding behind a large tree. “I was just starting to like that horse. Now you know I’m not paying you for it, right?”

  “This ain’t about a horse,” Krenshaw said. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  My fingers twitched, and I noticed my breathing was faster than normal. “I’ve gotten myself into a ravine, as far as I can tell.”

  “You’re funny, Idiom. Under other circumstances, I might enjoy this sparring, but now I grow tired of it.”

  “Nobody’s stopping you from taking a nice nap.”

  “Cheveyo. Would you explain to Mister Lee why we are here?”

  “Mister Lee, how much do you know about the woman you are traveling with?” Judging by his accent, I figured this Cheveyo was the Cherokee tracker Ginn had mentioned. He spoke as if he were about to bestow some ancient wisdom upon me.

  “She cooks a good rabbit.”

  “This isn’t about rabbits. Have you ever heard of a Skinwalker, Mr. Lee?” Cheveyo asked.

  The hairs on my arms raised up in gooseflesh. “Is that one of them fellows who likes to walk around naked? One time I heard a story about a trapper who froze to death. They found him butt naked, laying in a snowbank,” I said.

  “This is nothing to laugh about. That thing you travel with is a Skinwalker.”

  I laughed. “If she’d been walking around naked, I’d have noticed it. Of that, you can be certain.” I glanced toward Ginn. Our eyes met, and if looks could kill, I’d be in the boneyard already.

  “My people have seen these things before. Your people might call her a witch. She’s an evil from beyond nature, able to change from human form to a monster. Mr. Lee, we don’t have a feud with you. If you do the right thing, we’ll let you walk right out of here, free to go your way.”

  “What do you think the right thing is, Cheveyo?”

  Cheveyo deliberate words shook me to my soul. “Shoot her. When you do, you’ll see her change.”

  “I suspect you and I have drastically different ideas regarding what’s right and wrong. Listen, can you give me a minute?”

  “Take your time Mr. Lee. We aren’t going anywhere.”

  I turned to face Ginn. Her nostrils flared, and she was slow to meet my eyes. “So, nice day, huh? Could I bother you by asking, are you a witch?”

  Her eyes widened, her pupils expanded. “Of course not.”

  “She says she’s not a witch,” I shouted back to Cheveyo. “You guys can go home now. No hard feelings, it’s all water under the bridge. Have a nice life. G
odspeed.”

  “Ask her about being a Skinwalker. Ask her if she can change her form,” Cheveyo said.

  I looked straight into Ginn’s eyes, until she turned them away from me, looking upward. Well that wasn’t convincing. “Can you change forms?”

  “Those men are idiots.”

  “Granted, but that didn’t answer my question. Do they have reason to fear you?”

  “They have lots of reason to fear me. Let’s just say there are things you people don’t understand.”

  “You people? Are you grouping me in with them?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “How did you mean it? Are you saying all men are morons?”

  “Not all men. One, in particular, has surprised me with his resolve to do the right thing.” She batted dark brown eyes at me. “They’ll kill me.”

  I sighed. Why do I always have to get involved? I could be drinking whiskey and winning money at the poker table about now, but I had to get myself into trouble. “Oh, crap. If we live through this, you tell me everything. Come completely clean, understood?”

  “Understood.”

  Time to bluff. I shouted, “Look, guys, this really isn’t going to go well for you. This witch has called in her buddies, and when they get here, they’re just not going to be as nice about all this as I am. I’m talking fire and brimstone stuff, demons coming from the sky, the earth cracking open to a pit of despair. Are you sure this is a fight you want to get into? It’s going to get uglier than a penny whore.”

  “We’re certain,” Cheveyo said.

  Krenshaw yelled, “I tire of this exchange. Let’s end this now, boys.”

  A shot rang out, and all hell broke loose. Men on horseback charged us from both sides of the ravine. I aimed and shot the first man, striking him in the chest. His eyes gaped open, and he clutched his wound. I recognized him as Darrel Bodel. Christ, Darrel, why did you get yourself killed like this, you dang fool?

  A bullet whizzed past me, missing me by less than an inch, sounding like an angry dragonfly late for a date. I squeezed off the next round, and another man fell to the ground.