The Curse of Billy the Kid: Untold Legends Volume One

by Tamsin L. Silver

  Jacob yelled out in agony, and I heard him begin to flail on the ground.

  “Oh God...no, please, Jacob...” Timothy said, his voice coming closer toward me.

  “Timothy? What is going on?”

  “He can’t stop himself. He can’t...it’s the moon, you see...”

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, I said, “Is he a damn werewolf?”

  Timothy gasped in surprise but didn’t reply.

  My blood heated up. I could feel where Timothy stood and directed my comment toward him. “Answer me, do we have ourselves a furry cellmate?”

  Timothy stammered, finally saying, “Yes...it’s new. He has no control. We could all die!”

  Jacob made a sound that was not human in any way, shape, or form.

  I reached out. “Take my hand, Timothy, and get over here on our side.”

  “What is going on?” Fred shouted.

  A roar filled the air, and I felt my senses become acutely aware as adrenaline surged into my system. “Now, Tim!”

  He reached for me, and with my senses on full tilt, I could see his movement in the blackness. After one failed attempt, I got a good hold on his arm and pulled up as I let my body start to fall over to Fred’s and my side of the pit cárcel.

  “Fred, help me pull him the rest of the way over.”

  “What?”

  “Now!” I shouted.

  With no idea what was going on, Fred helped me and Timothy over, both of us landing with a thud on the dirt floor just as something large and strong slammed into the wall between the two rooms.

  “What in the hell was that!?” Fred yelled at me over the wolf’s roar.

  “Umm...it’s a werewolf, Fred, and if he breaks through that wall, we’re all dead. Any ideas?” I said.

  “I gathered that much...what I mean is, why do you know about this, and when did you learn?”

  “Wait, you believe me?” I asked.

  The wolf hit the wall again and dirt flew all around us.

  Coughing, Fred said, “My people have known of the lycanthrope for centuries. My question is why do you know and why are they in Lincoln County?”

  “I’ll explain in a minute,” I said. “But first, do either of you have any matches?”

  “Better,” Timothy said, “I’ve got a converted flintlock pistol.”

  I had no idea what that meant until I saw a flash and a flame sprout up, lighting the room.

  “It’s a lighter. Traded my old mule to some German guy for it.”

  A roar shook the air, and looking up, we watched as paws came over the wall, followed by a head. Thankfully, he got stuck at his midsection.

  “Keep that light on a minute,” I said, pulling my gun. “Handle has some silver in it. Up, Fred!”

  Without questioning me this time, Fred helped me leap up. With a well-placed swing, I hit the beast in the head, causing him to shake his head, likely due to seeing stars. We sent me up one more time, and with the extra energy I felt, I hit him harder and knocked him out. Slowly, he slid backward and dropped to the floor on his side of the pit.

  Timothy closed his lighter. “Will he be okay?”

  I turned toward his voice. “Will he be okay? Seriously?”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Right now he’s not,” I said. “And the sooner you accept that, the longer you’ll live.”

  I sat down and felt Fred sit beside me. Tim chose another part of the room, and before I knew it, he was snoring.

  “Good, he’s asleep. Tell me what’s goin’ on, Billy.”

  “Not sure I’m supposed to say...hell, I’m not even sure I believe it.”

  “You’re gonna tell me anyways,” Fred said.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

  The topic of Garrett and his beliefs helped Fred and I make it through the night, thankfully only having to knock Jacob out one more time before the moon set. No longer a threat to us or himself, Jacob boasted of other “great” qualities. Namely, a hot temper brought on from the screaming headache my beatings gave him or possibly werewolf anger issues. Either way, we got lucky that next afternoon, the twenty-first, when two Brady lackeys lowered some food to us. However, that was the only time we were fed before we went through another round of dealing with Jacob.

  By the crack of dawn on the twenty-third, I was close to losing my mind. I’d just knocked Jacob out again when the door above opened, and a figure holding a torch in the darkness of early sunrise stared down at me.

  “Billy? Fred? You boys still alive down there?”

  I’d never been so happy to hear the booming voice of Rob Widenmann in my life.

  “We sure as hell are!” Fred answered.

  “Any chance you got a ladder?” I said.

  “Funny you should ask,” Rob said with a deep laugh as a ladder got lowered into our side of the pit hole.

  “God bless you,” Fred said.

  “You go first,” I told him.

  As he ascended to the land above, I looked to Timothy and quietly said, “You want to follow us? I can’t leave you my gun, and he’ll kill you if he wakes up while the moon is still up. He’ll find a way over or through that wall.”

  “What kind of friend am I if I leave him?” Timothy asked.

  I raised an eyebrow. “A breathing one.”

  Timothy looked torn, but when Jacob moaned lightly next door, he headed straight to the ladder and went up without a lick of hesitation.

  I followed him up but looked down on Jacob in the other room once I was high enough. He definitely wasn’t staying unconscious this time around. Seeing him begin to shift, I said, “That’s my cue,” and I rushed up the ladder.

  “What about him?” Rob asked.

  “Nope!” I said, blocking his view of Jacob as I pulled the ladder up. Handing it to Fred, I slammed the trap door shut. Looking about, I saw no sign of Timothy and couldn’t blame him for getting the hell out of here. “We got anythin’ heavy to put on the door?”

  “Why?” Rob asked.

  “Oh, just don’t want to make it easy for them to toss us back in,” I lied.

  Rob pointed out a large boulder or two nearby. “We might be able to roll one of those over here.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  Once we’d completed that task, the three of us hurried to the McSween home where we found a detachment of soldiers waiting. I hesitated and looked at Rob.

  Putting a hand on my shoulder, Rob said, “They’re here with me to look for the men who killed Tunstall.”

  “We already tried that. We ended up in that hole,” Fred said.

  A man rode over on his horse. I could tell by his uniform that he was a lieutenant. “Brady’s been arrested for that larceny charge and is not going to be an issue. His small band of boys is no match for my men.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Goodwin,” Rob said. “Besides, that was a few days ago, and I doubt those military from Fort Stanton are still at the Dolan Store, but if they are, we’ll take care of that. You still sworn in as a deputy, kid?”

  “I sure am. So is Fred.”

  “Good, then let’s go see if we can find us them bastards that killed John.”

  “We need rifles and ammunition,” I told him.

  “I got you covered,” a voice behind me said.

  I turned to see Dick coming toward us with two rifles.

  He handed one to me and one to Fred. “You two are a mess.”

  “Gee, can’t see why,” I said, checking the rifle to find her loaded.

  Fred did the same. “When we’re done with this, I want a bath, food, and some sleep, in that order.”

  Dick grinned. “And you’ll get it. But we need to do this first.”

  Everyone agreed, and we were off. Most of us Tunstall/McSween men were on foot while the soldiers went in on horseback. Once we reached the Dolan Store, Rob and Lieutenant Goodwin threw a cordon around the store, a ring of soldiers letting none in or out except those of us with warrants to re-serve.
However, when we entered the building, we found nothing but a few of Dolan’s men who were not on the list of those being served for John’s murder.

  Being a physically large and aggressive man, Rob moved through the store like a bull in a china shop, telling us to look for anything that could help us find the bastards that killed John.

  We tore the place apart, trying to find any bit of evidence that would lead us to Morton, Baker, Evans, or Dolan but found nothing but a letter and a book of notes. Seeing as it seemed important, we confiscated it and decided to take it to McSween.

  When we could do no more at The House, Rob led us down to the Tunstall Store, still guarded by Brady and Dolan’s men.

  “He’s gotta know they’re not there,” Fred said to me as we moved east.

  “Of course he knows,” I said. “He’s mad as all hell. And as loyal a friend as he is, he’s just as mean. They killed his best friend, and he intends to make them pay. That includes taking back possession of John’s store, and he means to do so today...now.”

  “It’s rash and imprudent for him to do this,” Fred said.

  “Imprudent? Using that college education, I see,” I said with a wink.

  Fred laughed. “I just am not sure this is the best move.”

  Overhearing him, Rob said, “Fred, I want to entrust you with this book and letter we found at the Dolan Store. Can you take these to McSween?”

  I knew what he was doing. This way, Fred could sidestep being involved in the Tunstall Store raid if he wanted.

  “I can do that,” Fred answered.

  “Thank you. Wash up and get some rest. I’m sure there’s breakfast on the stove by now, too.”

  Taking the items, Fred thanked him and gave me a look that offered up the chance for me to come with. I shook my head, and with a shrug, he headed off to the back door of the McSween home.

  “Rob, who’s all going in?” I asked.

  He rattled off names of those I knew, like Brewer, Scurlock, Middleton, Corbett, and the Coes, along with those I didn’t. We were easily twenty men strong without the military. The joy of knowing we were likely going to take back some of this town energized me in a way that put spring in the step of my exhausted body.

  Using the military to get us in the door with the pretense of looking for the wanted men, we rushed in, and as we looked for the men we knew weren’t there, we forcibly took the keys to the store back and rousted Brady’s men out and onto the street. As they began to argue, we pulled our guns and stood between them and the store.

  “Take these to McSween,” I heard Doc Scurlock say to Sam Corbet as he palmed him the keys to the store.

  Corbet was gone faster than a bull running into a pasture of cows while the rest of us created a barrier between John’s store and Brady’s men, which consisted of Jack Long, Charles Martin, John Clark, and a few others. A few minutes later, as things were becoming more heated, Sheriff Brady showed up as well.

  Seeing both sides with guns raised, Lieutenant Goodwin stepped up. “Everyone needs to calm down.”

  “If you want, Lieutenant, you and your men can withdraw, and we can shoot this out once and for all,” Rob shouted. “This is John’s store. They took it without a valid, legal reason, then killed him. That’s why we’re taking it back.”

  “If a fight breaks out, I’ll put my troops between the two sides, forcin’ all of ya to stop shootin’ or pay the penalty for woundin’ or killin’ soldiers. So, what’s it gonna be?”

  I refused to lower my weapon, as did any of the others protecting the Tunstall Store.

  Brady stepped forward and ordered his men to lower their weapons and didn’t even try to take the store back, claiming he didn’t want any more bloodshed. I think it was because he knew we’d slaughter them all. We outnumbered them five to one.

  Once all their weapons were lowered, we did the same. Then Rob, with the insistence of Lieutenant Goodwin, worked to get everything calmed down.

  As the rush of taking John’s store back began to leave my body, the exhaustion from the past few days seeped in and I excused myself from the party staying to deal with all the warrants and legal situations. I was going to get some of that breakfast Rob mentioned, strip out of these disgusting clothes, bathe, and get some rest. Once I had done all that, I’d talk to Brewer and go give my answer to Garrett.

  I woke up as the sun was about to set, got dressed, and headed to the McSween home. Once there, I went looking for the man from Alabama, and he was right where I’d left him days ago. I thought about joking that he’d never left, but I held my tongue and just smiled.

  “I take it by the look on your face we gained some ground today?” Pat said, motioning for me to take a seat like he had the first time.

  This time I nodded and sat facing him. “We took Tunstall’s store back, and Sheriff Brady had to post a two-hundred-dollar bond for stealing hay from it. Widenmann also found a ledger book of some kind and a letter at Dolan’s. Fred brought it to McSween.”

  “Good to hear. Does that mean you’ve come to give me an answer?”

  “God knows I’ve had some free time on my hands to think about it.”

  Garrett fought a smile, then said, “Look, Dolan’s crew and all those seen as part of The House aren’t just citizens who want special treatment and protection. They are demons, and back in England, it’s a Regulator’s job to, well, regulate and track ‘em, keep ‘em under control. Here in America, we hunt them down and kill ‘em if they won’t leave. So, this is the last time I ask, are you in or are you out?”

  Still unsure if I believed him regarding my part in this supernatural situation, I did know two things; that werewolves were real and that Dolan’s men were involved, giving me a second reason to gun them bastards down. Because of that, I said, “I’m in.”

  “Good.”

  “I got one question. Do ya plan on telling the rest of the men how you believe I’m cursed?”

  Pat shook his head. “No. In fact, I don’t recommend you do either. Brewer needed to know because of what he saw and because he’s your friend.”

  “What’s that have to do with any of it?”

  Pat pulled a small tin from his breast pocket. “Forgive me, but I suppose I thought you’d want someone to talk to about all this, other than me.”

  “Assumin’ I believe you,” I countered, not mentioning that Fred knew now, too.

  Opening the tin, a tiny grin crawled up one side of Pat’s face. He pulled out a toothpick, opened his mouth, and bit down on it. Holding it between his teeth, he said, “You do. The sooner you admit that, the more effective you’ll be.”

  I reached for my container of rolled tobacco. “Oh, I’ll be effective.”

  Pat handed me a toothpick. “Here, these are cheaper and better for ya.” Once I reluctantly took the little stick of wood and put it between my teeth, he said, “Now, I head for Fort Sumner soon, so we leave for trainin’ tomorrow. Go pack your gear. We’ll will meet up at the Ellis Store for breakfast and ride once the moon sets.”

  “Which is?”

  “Eleven in the mornin’,” he said.

  I stood, wiggling the toothpick at him, and though I thought he was loco, I nodded in agreement before leaving the room and heading off to find Brewer. I needed to let him know I had all the proof I needed of werewolves and we were going to need to tell the rest of the Regulators. As far as Pat’s thoughts about me, we would keep all that quiet. The last thing I needed was a bunch of cowboys looking at me like I was the devil himself.

  You expect us to believe there’s supernatural mumbo jumbo going on in this town and that’s why John was murdered?” Sam Smith said.

  Fred stepped forward. “I spent three nights with one in a hole in the ground. So yeah, believe it.”

  “Not like you could see it though,” Henry Brown said.

  “Not true,” he said, and told the men about Timothy and his lighter.

  The room was silent for a moment and then everyone began speaking at once.

&
nbsp; “It’s gonna be a long night,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, it is,” Dick replied.

  Lucky for us, the boys had asked enough questions and headed home around ten o’clock that night, giving me just enough time to pack, catch four hours of sleep, and be at the Ellis Store in the morning. There we met, ate, and headed up into the mountains where we were given silver bullets, wooden and silver stakes, and other unusual weapons.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  Garrett grinned. “Now you learn to fight with ‘em.”

  4

  The Curse

  In the late 1800s, Lincoln County was almost the size of South Carolina. With its thirty-thousand square miles, it took up most of the southeastern part of New Mexico and was plagued with corruption and violence, with murder being almost a daily occurrence. Thus, our activities weren’t as noticeable as one might think. You could go days without seeing another human being in New Mexico. It made it a perfect breeding ground for Scáthach’s demons.

  We trained for a few days, our last exercise being after sundown on the twenty-sixth and went all night with no moon to help us so we would learn how to work in utter darkness. We finished just before the moon rose, a waning crescent in the winter sky, around five in the morning of the twenty-seventh.

  Hungry, cold to the bone, and no real light since the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour and a half, Dick and I built a fire. The other Regulators either headed to the chuck wagon for some breakfast or went to grab some shut-eye, many choosing to snooze sitting up in their tombstone chairs. Garrett, on the other hand, took this opportunity to explain the political side of it all to Dick and me. That’s when we learned that like any rotten business today, the canker sore that fueled our troubles started at the top.

  I poured scoops of ground coffee into the pot of water on the fire. “You’re tellin’ me it’s not just District Attorney Rynerson who’s a friend of Dolan’s, but U.S. Attorney Catron, Governor Axtell, and Judge Bristol as well?”

  “I am,” Pat said, rolling out his sudan, a waterproof bedroll. Pausing to take a drink from his canteen, he handed it to Brewer before laying down. “That group of high rankin’ officials is a part of what’s called the Santa Fe Ring, and you can bet The House answers to them.”