Kill the Night

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Kill the Night Page 24

by Terry, Mark


  A woman screamed in a boarding house east on Colorado. Tesla and Edison stepped into the street to see a burly man in a bowler hat with a pistol on his hip dragging a red-haired barmaid in a flowery dress from the saloon.

  He pulled his pistol and pointed it at her head, tugging on the reins of a horse tied in front of the saloon. “I’m gonna get out of here! I’m due back in Ouray, and this woman tried to rip me off!”

  On the other side of the street, a tall muscular man in a crisp gray suit and a white Stetson stepped out. From over a block away, the inventors could see a five-point, silver star over his heart.

  “Now Jasper,” the Marshall said, “just let the lady go. You can sleep it off in the tank.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, Marshall!” He pushed the barmaid to her knees and aimed the gun at the top of her head. “I’m going to blow her brains out if you don’t let me get on my horse!”

  The woman screamed again. The Marshall fired. The brawler in the bowler keeled back and collapsed on his back.

  The Marshall strode to the pair and helped the barmaid to her feet and back into the saloon. When the pair were through the swinging doors, Jasper sat up.

  He jumped on the horse nearest him, kicked its haunches, and sprang towards Tesla and Edison. As the resurrected man passed, he laughed and his eyes blazed red. He rode west toward Ames and the mine and disappeared.

  Tesla turned to Edison. “Will that do?”

  Interlude 71

  Monday, March 20, 1893, 6:22 p.m.

  Telluride, Colorado

  The sign outside the barn read, “PACK MULES FOR SALE.” The old panhandler who came out to greet them bore a scruffy white beard, bronze wrinkled skin, and twinkling eyes.

  “Where you off to?” the mule seller asked.

  “We’re off to mountains for prospecting,” Tesla said.

  The mule seller looked at all three men. “Don’t see this one as being up to the trip.” He nodded at Randolph. “And the two of you don’t look like you spent a week outside the city.”

  Edison opened his mouth, but Tesla stepped between him and the mule seller. “We’re more than up to the trip.”

  The old man cocked his head.

  “How much for pack mule? And we’ll need a few days’ provisions.” Tesla said.

  “Either of you know how to pack a mule?”

  “Sir, I hardly see what difference that—” Edison began.

  The mule seller held up a hand. “I’m not in the habit of sending green horns into the mountains. Especially when a May snow is about to fall.”

  “How do you know it’s going to snow?” Edison blurted.

  The merchant turned and strode quickly back into the barn. For an old burro peddler, he walked with the agility of a man thirty years younger. In a few moments, he came back with a healthy looking mule in tow. “I’m looking to sell my finest hinny. She won’t fail you in the mountains. She knows when rock slides are coming. She knows when predators are about.”

  Edison reached for his wallet and the mule seller held up a hand.

  “But one of you has got to show me he knows how to pack a mule.” He cackled with laughter.

  Edison took a step forward. “Now look here, do you know who I am?”

  Tesla interrupted him and pointed to a large bundle hanging on a nail inside the barn. “Will that do?”

  The mule seller nodded with a toothy grin and then sneered at Edison.

  Tesla lifted the pack from the nail and set it beside the hinny. He took the rope across the hinny’s back. “First,” he said, looking at the mule seller, “you string sling rope in large loop across mule’s back.” He did so, and then reached down to the pack on the ground.

  “Then you take pack and set it on your knees so you don’t lift with your back.” Once he got the pack part-way onto the mule, he stopped and grabbed the sling rope. “Then you loop sling rope over top and then underneath you grab middle of rope and push it under saddle.” He spoke as he did each step. “Then you put your chest into pack and pull and it brings it in tight.” The inventor glanced at the mule seller.

  The old man stood with clenched jaws.

  “Then you loop over top and start knot.” Tesla stepped back to adjust the pack and look it over. He glanced at Edison. “If you do it too soon, it gets so tight that you have to start all over.” Then he went back to pushing the pack onto the saddle “This will probably be loaded just a tad high,” he said. “Then you tie knot and add pack to other side and do same thing.” He turned to the mule seller. “How’s that?”

  The old merchant looked surprised, then concerned. “Look, it ain’t safe up there. People been talking. There’s ghosts in the mountains.”

  “Ghosts?” Tesla asked.

  “Ghosts. People seeing things. Men not coming back.” He shook his head. “It ain’t safe.”

  “Good sir, we will be just fine. We are on path from which we cannot deviate. Is matter of life and death,” Tesla said.

  The mule seller looked from one to the other with concern. Then with a shake of his head, he gave a snicker. “I’ll go draw up a bill of sale for a couple of city fools,” he muttered.

  As they walked out of the burro peddler’s barn, neither Edison nor Tesla turned to look back as the old man watched them go, scratching his head. Randolph trailed behind the hinny, silent.

  “How did you know all that?” Edison asked softly.

  “I had friend named General Crook. Did you know General Crook preferred to ride mule into battle? They could carry twice load Army stipulated, so his troops never ran out of ammo and food. The mule trains never failed because he believed in necessity of healthy mules.”

  “He taught you?” Edison asked, surprised.

  “No,” Tesla said, “I read it in book once.”

  

  After stopping to buy supplies and comfortable shoes, the trio took the road west out of town. They packed the mule with two large bundles, and two long poles were hooked under either side of the blanket saddle and extended way out front. A lantern hung from each pole.

  “How far is it?” Edison asked.

  “It’s about twelve miles with fifteen-hundred-foot elevation gain. There’s mostly trails and railroad grades. North side of Ophir Valley is particularly steep, but we won’t go that far in.”

  “And should we be leaving after the sun has already set?”

  Tesla stopped and looked at Edison. “Do you think it makes difference? He could have killed us at any time if he wanted us just dead. He wants us to come.”

  Edison said nothing for several moments, swallowed, and kept walking. Then the first snowflake fell. The trio continued for several more minutes as the snowfall increased. Soon, Edison and Tesla put on heavy jackets and gloves, and both men helped Randolph into his.

  “We don’t need to do this. I can take the bookkeeper back to town,” Edison said.

  “We will find Gunslinger. He has Ida,” Tesla responded.

  As if he had just awoken, the bookkeeper quickened his pace and took several long strides ahead of the other two men. But the snowfall continued to increase.

  Interlude 72

  Monday, March 20, 1893, 9:04 p.m.

  Bridal Veil Falls, Colorado

  Two hours later, the men reached the Bridal Veil Falls basin. The snow had been falling steadily, but not heavily. Snowfall increased, and the wind picked up. In the narrow canyon, it howled.

  “We’re about four miles out now, most of it steady climb,” Tesla said to Edison. Both men had draped blankets around their heads, so only their eyes were uncovered. Tesla looked at Randolph. He had his jacket tightly around him and was pushing forward with unusual vigor, keeping the trio moving.

  Tesla looked back at Edison with a raised eyebrow. “There’s going to be first switchback coming up, as it cuts back northeast. Snow starting to come down hard. If you get more than few feet away, you could lose sight of mule.” He held out a strand of rope. “Don’t let go.”
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  Another roar could be heard in the distance. “What is that sound?” Edison asked, shouting over the howl of the wind.

  “It’s falls!” Tesla shouted back. “Tallest in Colorado!”

  They continued for another mile or so up the trail to the canyon headway, and there they paused. The entire mountain had been covered in a blanket of snow, and they could not see more than a few feet ahead for the mist that had enveloped them. The thundering noise of the falls made hearing each other almost impossible.

  Tesla tugged on Randolph and Edison’s ropes and pointed back to the last hairpin curve. Motion appeared in the mist. All three men froze as the figure moved forward. First the image of a man could be seen. Then a large figure behind it. Finally, a man leading a horse came into view and they all relaxed.

  He had a heavy bear skin around his shoulders and a wide brim pulled low over his face. The figure pointed to the hairpin curve where Tesla had pointed earlier, and the group navigated slowly there. When they rounded the corner, a large opening appeared in the side of the mountain. The stranger led his horse in and the three men followed.

  Twenty feet deep into the cave, the snowfall and howling wind stopped. The cave lay beneath half of a mountain. Only the roar of the waterfall could be heard, but even that had faded. The stranger shook snow from his shoulders and removed the bandana from his face. He had bright blue eyes and a handsome face with a gleaming smile.

  “You lost?” he asked.

  Edison spoke up. “We are on our way to the Gold King Mine.”

  “The power plant?” the stranger asked.

  “Power plant?” Edison glanced at Tesla, eyebrows raised.

  “I already had it built,” Tesla grinned. “Just gotta hook it up to Telluride and I win bet.”

  Edison glared.

  “You men don’t look like miners,” the stranger added. “Well, ain’t nobody going anywhere for awhile. Can’t see for nothing to get through that mist and snow. Too dangerous.” He pulled some firewood off the back of his horse. “I’ll start a fire. We’ll warm up. Put on a pot.”

  “My name is Thomas Edison, and this is my bookkeeper. My other companion is Mr. Tesla.”

  The stranger’s eyes widened. “Well, I heard of you, mister. You’re famous.”

  “Well, I like to be appreciated for my good works. And you are?”

  The stranger held his hand out to shake Edison’s, and for the first time, a six gun at his hip came into view. “People call me Butch.”

  Interlude 73

  Tuesday, March 21, 1893, 4:47 a.m.

  Gold King Mine, Colorado

  The three visitors awoke the next morning to a whiteout and the smell of coffee brewing. Butch had a fire and a piping-hot pot of coffee going.

  Edison went to the edge of the crevasse as the wind howled in the impenetrable storm. “How are we going anywhere in that?”

  “You’re not,” Butch said. “The only thing you need to do at this point is be calm. We are in a safe spot.” The gray-blue eyes smiled. “You two sure you want to be wandering around up above this point? Men have gone missing. There’s stories.”

  Tesla stood, stretched, and walked over to one of the pack mules, its head still down and eyes closed as if asleep. “We have made preparations. We are aware of dangers.”

  Butch looked at Tesla with narrow eyes. “You’re a bit of a go-getter, aren’t you, mister?”

  Tesla replied with a smile.

  “I believe I will have a bite to eat before we set on our way.” Edison brushed his hands across his clothes, stroked a hand across his brow, and reached for a plate Butch held out to him.

  “If you think you’re headin’ out, then you better know how to dead reckon.” Butch looked to Tesla and Edison. “You know how to dead reckon?”

  Tesla and Edison looked dubiously at each other.

  “Focus on one thing until it is done, and you, too, shall have success!” Edison chimed, index finger pointing in the air.

  Butch nodded toward the white out. “You go out there in that, and you won’t be able to tell a mountain face from a cliff’s edge. You get separated, you’ll lose track of each other in a few steps.”

  Tesla sat down next to the fire.

  “I’ve got some beans on the fire.” Butch tossed a small bundle cloth bound with twine about the size of a shoe to Nikola. “And some dried pork. It’s not much, but what I’ve got you’re welcome to.”

  The storm continued until daylight when it finally broke. Tesla reached into the bag on the side of the mule and lifted out a metal device about the size of a large book. He removed a glass tube from another pouch, and it fit into the side of the device. With a click, the light shone from the screen. From a hidden sleeve on the side, he pulled out a pencil-size metal rod and inserted it into the face of the device with a click.

  “You gentlemen going to keep heading up the mountain then?” Butch asked.

  Edison and Tesla looked at one another, and then Edison nodded slowly as he took another spoonful of beans.

  “The snow's going to have buried most of the pass further up, which is why I was headed down. Didn’t want to get stuck up on the pass the rest of winter. I like my mama's cooking much better!”

  “Well, as I said, we are prepared,” Tesla said softly.

  “You go out there and try and cross the pass, you’ll end up falling through into a crevasse or slide right off the cliff.” Butch motioned towards the opening. “They’ll find your frozen corpse in the spring thaw, bones picked over by—”

  A rumbling in the air stopped him. Loose rubble from the walls of the crevice crumbled off and fell around the four men. Edison leaned over and shook Randolph’s shoulder. The rumbling grew louder. Randolph sat up with a start.

  “Master?” he said aloud, looking around.

  Butch drew his six gun and stood in a crouching motion, taking a step back from the opening. “What is that?”

  Edison stepped forward, head cocked, and adjusted his jacket, standing a bit more stiffly. Tesla stepped to the mouth of the cave. The electric box in his hand squawked. The bulb flared.

  Randolph scrambled backward on his behind, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Master?” he whispered.

  The grinding reverberated in the small grotto, growing ever louder. Edison said something, but no one could make out the words. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Tesla’s shoulder. Nikola held up his left hand.

  A grinding beast of a machine came into view—a massive rusting bucket, belching steam, covered in dirt, atop wobbly sprockets set within a set of caterpillar treads. The beast ground fist-size rocks beneath its weight and came to a halting, jerking brake in front of the cave’s opening. The trembling of the world stopped. It belched a final hiss and then quiet descended.

  “What the hell is that?” whispered Butch.

  “It's our ride,” Tesla said, smiling.

  “What the hell is it?” the bank robber muttered again as Tesla, Edison and Butch stepped out of their shelter and onto the trail.

  Simon stood inside the bucket, face smudged with soot. “Kako Si!”

  Butch drew his pistol again and this time cocked the hammer in one fluid motion.

  Tesla ignored him and waved. “Hvala!” Then he turned around to see Randolph timidly peeking out from behind the cliff wall.

  The bookkeeper slowly emerged, dragging his blanket.

  “It’s tele-automaton.” Tesla knocked on the side of the cart, and it made a hollow, metal sound. “Remote controlled mechanical machine.”

  Edison nodded. “Yes, we were working on one of these machines, but we were looking at them for factories, mass production.” He fixed his glasses square to his face and peered closely, even stepping on a tread and rising to peer down into the cart. “What’s this one for?”

  Simon opened a panel on the back of the cart, and a small set of stairs slapped to the ground on which he descended from the machine.

  “We used it to move backfill from mining ca
verns,” Tesla said, switching off the device in his hand and shaking Simon’s hand. “It pulled backfill up towards mouth of mine where sand and gravel were added, mixed, and then hauled back down and used as cement to secure tunnel walls. We couldn’t spare the manpower to move it, so I came up with an alternative.”

  Butch stepped up into the cart. “Damn, you’re going to use this to get all the way up the mountain to the mine?”

  “That’s plan.” Tesla nodded. Simon pulled the packs from the mules and dragged them toward the steam cart.

  Butch hopped down. “Well, best of luck to you, mister.” He sucked in a cheek and nodded. “Like I said, I got to get home to my mama's cooking. Nothing like a Sunday Mormon Dinner! Everybody cooks. Everybody eats. Not much else to do on the Sabbath.” He winked and turned away.

  Tesla motioned for Edison to climb into the cart. The inventor backed up and pushed Randolph up the steps first. The bookkeeper still dragged the blanket, and Edison ripped it out of his hands and tossed over the side. Then he stepped up behind the bookkeeper and pushed him forward.

  Simon carried the bundles from the mules and set them in the cart. He opened one bundle in front of Tesla, who nodded and then they piled the rest in.

  Interlude 74

  Tuesday, March 21, 1893, 7:11 a.m.

  Gold King Mine, Colorado

  Ida slumped against the cold, dark, tunnel wall. She didn’t hear anything but became very alert. She held her breath and waited. A faint scraping sound came from outside of the tunnel. Ida breathed quickly through her nose, stood up straight, and held her breath once again, listening. Her eyes were fixed into the darkness.

  Then she heard it. Right next to her. The soft satisfied sound, almost a throat clearing. But she could hear the amusement in that sound.

  “Yesssss,” Wedderburn whispered.

  Ida went rigid with the sound. The Gunslinger snapped his fingers and torches placed every fifty feet or so far down the tunnel burst to life with a burning flame. Ice filled Ida’s heart.

 

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