The Dark Sunrise

by Terrence McCauley

  Billy buckled his gun belt. “I’ve never found a way of telling Aaron what to do. Never even tried. But I’ll do my best to keep him safe, same as I’ve been doing for the past ten years. Didn’t need you asking me to do it, either.”

  Forester surprised him when he grabbed Billy’s arm. “Damn it, Deputy. I don’t want to have to hang him for what he’s liable to do to Grant in a fit of rage.”

  Billy looked at the judge’s hand until he had the sense to remove it from his arm. Then Billy walked to the door. “You won’t hang Aaron Mackey, your honor. No need to worry about that.”

  Forester fidgeted with his hat. “I can’t say that I like how you said that, Deputy.”

  Billy moved to the door. “No reason not to like the truth, Judge.”

  * * *

  Billy closed the door behind him and walked down the hall and up the stairs that led up to Aaron’s room. Aaron and Katherine’s room. The bridal suite they had called home ever since the day they had been married about a month before. Since Mr. and Mrs. Aaron Mackey now owned the hotel, he imagined ownership had its privileges.

  Billy had sensed a shift in Aaron in the past month, even when they had gone to arrest Colburn. He had lost a certain amount of restlessness that had always been in him. He seemed more at peace with himself and who he was. Aaron was just a touch slower to anger and a little easier to talk to, even for Billy. He supposed he had Katherine to thank for that. He was almost like the Aaron he had known in the cavalry. The strong, confident man who could lead others into battle against impossible odds. The kind of leader who could make a man forget his fear of losing his hair to an Apache blade because Aaron Mackey was in charge.

  And Billy knew all of that progress would be undone the moment he learned that his father had been killed in a riot. Burned to death in a fire in the very store that had helped settle a town. The store Pappy had built with his own hands.

  Billy knew Pappy would not have been found in bed, overwhelmed by smoke and flames in his sleep. He would be found shot to death or worse, because no fire alone could kill the likes of Brendan Mackey. He had helped Sherman set too many fires for him to be caught in one by surprise.

  Billy had no doubt the great man had been murdered. He had been taken from them by the Hancock clan. By James Grant. By Nathan Rigg. Aaron would know that, too. And nothing on earth or heaven would stop him from setting things right.

  Billy stopped just outside Aaron’s door to steady himself. The room Aaron now shared with Katherine as they began their new life together. A life that had been off to a beautiful start, only to be ruined by this. By something ugly. By something that was as final as it was unnecessary. Another death resulting from James Grant’s greed.

  Billy felt a fly land on his face, but when he went to swat it away, he found it was not a fly at all. It was a tear. The top part of his shirt was damp, and he realized he must have been crying the whole walk up to Aaron’s room.

  For Pappy had been the first white man besides Aaron to treat him as an equal. No matter the occasion, no matter the circumstances, Brendan Mackey had never looked at him differently than he had looked at any other man. He had come to see the old man as something of a father figure. A man who had always been there. A man to rely on for a laugh or a kick in the backside, whatever was needed at the time.

  A man who was not there anymore.

  He drew in a ragged breath and prepared to knock on Aaron’s door. He knew once he did so, he would be changing his best friend’s life forever and not for the better. He would be destroying his world. And he was the only man who could possibly do it.

  He knocked on the door and prayed his friend enjoyed the last few seconds of happiness before he opened it.

  Aaron was smiling, really smiling when he opened the door. Billy had not seen his friend smile so much since the day he had been married.

  And Billy watched that smile—and all the joy that went with it—fade when Aaron saw the look on Billy’s face. The dried tears. The dampness of Billy’s shirt.

  Billy’s breath became ragged again as he watched Aaron’s face change ever so slightly.

  Billy wanted to speak, but his throat was so tight, the words just would not come out.

  Aaron took a step backward into the room and his shoulders sagged.

  From somewhere inside the suite, Katherine called out cheerfully, “Is that Billy? Invite him in for coffee, silly. There’s plenty left.”

  Coffee. Somewhere in this world, someone still cared about civility and coffee.

  Billy saw Aaron’s lip tremble as he, too, struggled to breathe. Billy did not have to tell him what had happened. It was clear there was only one reason in the world why Billy Sunday would look like that.

  And when Aaron did speak, his voice was smaller than Billy had ever heard it. “Poppa?”

  Billy closed his eyes and felt more tears flow.

  He grabbed Aaron before he fell and held his best friend close. As close as he had the last time he had seen him weep. The day they had returned to Dover Station after he had been forced to resign from the army. The moment he had seen his father for the first time since Rigg forced him from the only life he had ever wanted. The last time he had been given no choice but to admit defeat.

  As Mackey wept, Billy saw Katherine standing by the window. She was holding her hands in front of her face. She was not at the point of crying yet, but Billy knew she would be soon. Seeing Aaron betray emotion was not an easy sight to get used to, so he did not blame her for not rushing to his side to comfort him. After all, Aaron did not need comforting. He did not have emotions or sadness or fear. He was a rock.

  But Billy knew better.

  Mackey bit off his tears and gripped Billy tighter. It was only when Billy said, “Let go of it, Aaron,” that his tears finally came.

  CHAPTER 26

  For reasons that none of the three of them could explain, Billy, Aaron, and Katherine had gotten dressed and sat in the hotel’s main parlor alone.

  The door was not locked. Neither Billy nor any member of the hotel staff had barred anyone from entering the room. But no one had dared to go in, either. Not Judge Forester or the mayor or even the governor.

  Billy imagined part of the reason they had all kept their distance was out of respect. The territorial marshal and his wife were in mourning over the death of his father. He deserved some degree of privacy at such an awful time.

  But Billy knew that most people were not so thoughtful. Most people craved spectacle, to be able to say they had been there to comfort the great man at the time of his greatest loss. They would share those stories with the other people who lived in Helena. Those who could claim they had comforted him would see their status in town rise, for they had been one of the few the marshal had allowed close to him in his hour of need.

  But no one had entered the parlor. Not because they had been told not to or because they felt it was wrong.

  They stayed away because something told them to do so.

  Something they could not quite comprehend or, if they did, often discounted as nothing more than a bad feeling.

  Billy knew better than that.

  For as he sat in the corner of the parlor, away from his friend and his wife, he knew something in Aaron had changed. Katherine, clad in a black dress and veil, sat next to her husband as if he was a stranger. Perhaps because that was what he had become upon learning his father was dead. He had become something else.

  Mackey was also clad in black, save for the white shirt he wore and the silver handle of the Peacemaker holstered to the left of his belt buckle. Billy had seen him strap on another Colt holstered on his right hip, though it was hidden under the black duster he wore. The broad, flat brim of his Plainsman threw a shadow over most of his face in the darkened parlor.

  Billy had sensed this same change in him before, back when Darabont had laid siege to the town. When he had found out that Darabont had taken Katherine with him. When he had found Sim Halstead dead. And when he realiz
ed James Grant was trying to kill him.

  Billy could only describe it as rage. Rage emanated from Aaron Mackey like heat from a stove. Rage filled the room with a feeling that was every bit as dark as fire was light. Rage so strong that every fiber of his being told Billy to run and get as far away from the source of it as soon as possible. A force that could not be touched, only felt.

  But it was a rage Billy felt himself, and therefore knew there was no way of escaping it. The only way to stop it was to extinguish the source of it. That day, the source of it was James Grant.

  Neither Billy nor Katherine moved when Aaron finally spoke for the first time since learning his father was dead.

  “There’s something in me.”

  His voice was still hoarse from the screams of rage that had been muffled by Billy’s shoulder.

  “It’s something that crawled inside me and tucked itself away in my soul,” Mackey went on. “I don’t know how long it’s been there, but it’s been there for as long as I can remember. I used to think I could control it. Most times I can. But I can feel it now. I can feel it boiling over, and I don’t want it to burn you. Either of you. I don’t want it to get into you, too.”

  Katherine took his hand and laced her fingers with his. Mackey did not respond to his wife’s touch. “I love you, Aaron. So does Billy. That’s why we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t love me. Not this me. This part of me. You don’t even know this me. Billy does. He’s seen it, but not you. I don’t want you there to see what it does to me. I don’t want you to see what I can do. What I really am. I want you to stay here in Helena while we go to bury my father.”

  But Katherine only grabbed her husband’s hand tighter. “Now you listen to me, Aaron Mackey. I’m damned near forty years old. I’m not like Mary. I’m not some child who doesn’t know what life is. I know the way men are. I’ve always seen that darkness in you, and I married it when I married you. There’s nothing you can do or say that will ever make me stop loving you. There’s no amount of men you could kill and no reason you could give me that would dim my love for you even a little because I know exactly what you are.”

  Mackey’s voice remained flat and raw. “You’re not coming on the train with me.”

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed. “And not because I’m afraid of you or because of what you’re going to do in town, but because I don’t want you worrying about me. I want you to do whatever you need to do to get whatever that thing inside you is back into whatever box you keep it in. And when you come back to me, we’re going to starve it to death, Aaron Mackey. You and I are going to starve it out by loving each other the rest of our lives so it never, ever comes back.”

  Billy could not see through her black veil but could tell she was crying.

  “Do you hear me?” she repeated. “You’re going to come back to me, and we’re going to go on with our lives. Do you hear me?”

  Billy saw the brim of Mackey’s hat imperceptibly move up and down. Then he felt Mackey look at him, though his eyes were in shadow. “You ready?”

  “Always,” Billy said.

  The two lawmen stood. Katherine stood with her husband and wrapped her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest, though Mackey barely moved.

  When she finally let him go, he walked slowly but steadily toward the pocket doors of the parlor and slid them open. Billy tipped his hat to Katherine before following him out the door.

  The hotel of the lobby was filled with all of the leading citizens of Helena who had come to pay their respects to the marshal. Billy saw Judge Forester and the mayor and the governor along with their wives.

  But Mackey did not bother to look at any of them. He walked past them, ignoring their condolences as he headed out to the front porch of the hotel.

  Billy and Mackey stopped when they saw twenty riders lined up on the street in front of the Hotel Helena. They were all United States marshals, and Sean Lynch was on the horse in the middle.

  Joshua Sandborne was standing by the hitching rail to which Billy’s horse and Adair were tied. Billy’s horse was made restless by the presence of so many animals behind her. Adair stood stock still and looked at her rider.

  Mackey said to Lynch, “Forester send you to stop me?”

  “No, sir,” Lynch told him. “We’re going with you.”

  Mackey took Adair’s reins from Joshua. “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m afraid this ain’t about just you anymore, Aaron,” Lynch said. “It doesn’t matter much how you got here, but you’re one of us now, and if Grant and the Hancocks can get away with doing something like this to your family, then they can do it to any one of ours. We can’t let that stand, so we’ll be riding to Dover Station with you.”

  “The judge won’t like that,” Billy said. “He believes in law and order.”

  “Law and order don’t always go together,” said a marshal Billy recognized as Johnny Boggs. “Can’t have any law without some order to go along with it. And we intend on bringing about some order to this territory right quick.”

  “How?”

  The marshal Billy recognized as Larry Martin out of Butte said, “We’re going to help you boys to wipe out the Hancocks in Dover, then ride up to Hancock to kill this at the source. Rip those bastards from the earth, root and stem, just like any other weed. Then set a torch to everything we see. Burn it into their memory so they remember that no one does this to one of us and gets to live after.”

  Billy noticed Mackey had not moved since he had taken Adair’s reins. He stood stock still as the men spoke. Billy thought Boggs and Martin made good sense. He knew they could certainly use the extra guns.

  But, as was his custom, he also knew what Mackey would say next.

  “No.”

  Lynch looked confused. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  Boggs added, “You don’t aim to ride into Dover Station alone, do you?”

  “Won’t be alone,” Mackey said. “I’ll have Billy with me. And Jerry Halstead, too, if he’s still alive. Maybe Steve Edison’s men.”

  “Then I guess you ain’t heard,” Lynch said. “Edison left town before sunup. Pulled out with all of his men. And word is the Hancocks have Jerry Halstead pinned down in the old jailhouse. Poor bastard will probably be dead by the time you get there.”

  “Jerry?” Mackey shook his head. “Not likely. Not that soon.”

  “The town’s just about burned out,” Boggs said. “The Hancocks got you outgunned fifty-to-one, counting you and Billy. I know you’re good, Aaron, but no one’s that good.”

  “We’ll find a way,” Mackey said. “Always have.”

  “Always will,” Billy added.

  “It ain’t that simple,” Martin said. “Word is that big company is pulling up stakes and heading back to New York. Every friend you’ve got in town might already be dead, Aaron, not that they were worth much anyway. No offense to them meant.”

  “They’ve got law. Chief Edison’s got fifteen men loyal to him.”

  Lynch continued, “Word is they shot twenty rioters last night, and not one of them was a Hancock boy. Not one. They probably did all this so they could take the town back for Grant. No one left in town is going to help you against odds like that.”

  “Doesn’t matter what they do,” Mackey said. “It only matters what I do.” He looked at the line of men. “It matters what we do, too. I’m not ordering the slaughter of women and children, even if they bear the Hancock name. This territory’s filled with men who have paper on them. You want to help? Go out and bring them in while Billy and I tend to Dover Station personally. That’s an order.”

  “No, Aaron,” Lynch said. “That’s suicide.”

  Billy answered for him. “Not the way we do it. It’s our fight. We’ll fight it our way. Same as always. The marshal has made up his mind. You boys best be on about your business. We appreciate the gesture just the same.”

  The line of twenty men looked at each other, unsure of w
hat to do next.

  Lynch frowned and nodded at Boggs, who reluctantly led the men back up Broadway to the courthouse. Only Lynch remained behind.

  “You sure about this, Aaron?”

  “I’m sure. Keep an eye on things here until I get back. I know you’ll keep on doing a fine job.”

  Lynch looked at Billy, maybe hoping the deputy might get him to change his mind. But Billy knew when Aaron’s mind was made up, and it was made up now.

  “God go with you, then.” He brought his horse about and followed the others back to the courthouse.

  Sandborne untethered Billy’s horse from the hitching rail and handed him the reins as Mackey climbed into Adair’s saddle.

  “I’m sorry about Pappy, Aaron,” the young man said, choking back tears. “I sure wish you’d let me go with you, but you won’t, will you?”

  “You’ve got the biggest job of all,” Mackey told him. “You’re staying here to protect my wife. Don’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I won’t,” Sandborne said. “I’ll defend her with my life.”

  “I know you will. You’re family.”

  Billy patted Sandborne on the back as he climbed into the saddle and rode behind Aaron to the train to Dover Station.

  CHAPTER 27

  Mackey and Billy were situated in their own sleeper car, having rejected Mr. Rice’s offer of sending his private car for them. It would have taken too much time to bring it to Helena, and Mackey was anxious to get back to Dover Station as soon as possible. If Jerry really was holed up in the jailhouse, they did not have a moment to lose.

  They were more than five hours out of Helena before Mackey saw fit to say anything. The silver pot of coffee on the narrow table had gone cold, and his own cup was unfilled. He had spent the entire ride looking out the window, though Billy doubted he had seen anything except his own reflection in the glass.

  “You check the train for Hancock men?” Mackey asked.