“The hell ya will,” he said. “I made the damn thin’ and I’ll hold onto it.”
Without another word, he turned and marched back into the cave.
Dan and Sam didn’t look at Bill, but waited for him to go after Matt before they followed.
“It’s big,” Matt said, holding the torch high.
Bill nodded and looked around, but otherwise didn’t answer.
“Wow!” Sam exclaimed as he entered. “Dis looks like it might do us well fo’ a lil while.”
“Dat i’ does,” Dan said, standing in the mouth of the cave, looking around and watching the other men.
Matt went deeper – through a small crack in the back wall – and the rest of the men were left almost in the dark again.
Bill was about to yell at the man when he spoke and silenced him.
“There be water!” Matt yelled, and then poked his head back through the crack. “Come see.”
One by one they made their way through the crack; it took a bit longer for Sam, since he was short and pudgy.
“I can no’ believe we go’ dis lucky,” Dan said, kneeling down beside a small pool of water at the bottom of a trickling, one foot waterfall coming out of the sandstone wall. He cupped his hand and brought a scoop of water to his mouth. “It’s good!” he said, cupping both his hands to drink more.
Sam grinned and threw himself down to drink as well.
“Well,” Bill said grudgingly, “good job, Sam. We’ll be staying here for a little while and then head south.”
Chapter 4
Jeffery rode through the storm confidently; he didn’t even have his eyes open and trusted his horse to take the best course.
He continued on his journey through the night – the storm had finally abated sometime during the night, but he didn’t know exactly when – and on into the next morning. By noon he was riding into Vickstown, and he headed right to the capitol building without even stopping to eat or drink.
He stopped his trusty mare outside the large, white pillared building and stared up at it for a few minutes before he dismounted and tied his horse’s reins to the railing for that purpose.
After pulling Sheriff Bob’s note from his pocket, he advanced toward the building and knocked on the door. No one answered, but while he was standing there waiting, another man walked up to the door and went inside without knocking.
Assuming he should do the same, Jeffery walked in.
His eyes grew huge as he stepped inside and saw the grand decorations of the lobby. Crystal sparkled in the chandelier as the gas lamps in the ornate fixture burned bright. Crushed velvet covered the fashionable chairs along the walls for seating. Large, grand paintings adorned every wall and made Jeffery feel small. He was painfully aware of his filthy clothes in the pristinely clean environment. He knew he was out of place. His first instinct was to go back outside, but he was determined to do his duty for Sheriff Bob. He was a good friend – one of Jeffery’s only friends. Most of the settlers judged him, and he knew it. Sheriff Bob accepted him and appreciated him. He was the first white man Jeffery had ever known that he truly respected.
“Can I help you?” asked a man who came through a doorway reading from a stack of papers; he didn’t look up but knew someone was there from the sound of door opening and closing.
“Yes’sa, I’s here with dis letter from Sheriff Bob, for da Governor,” Jeffery said, holding out the letter.
“Sheriff Bob?” the man asked, sitting down behind a small desk, finally looking at Jeffery; his eyes held contempt and his expression showed disgust. “I’m not familiar with Sheriff Bob. What town is he from?”
“Bristleton, sa,” Jeffery said. “Them men who broke out of da prison done robbed our bank and Sheriff Bob sent me wit’ dis here letter for da Governor.”
The man’s countenance changed at the news. No longer was he judging Jeffery by his appearance and supposed ignorance. The man had news of something that was relevant to his boss. Personal feelings were no longer possible when business took precedent.
“Right this way,” he said, standing swiftly and darting out of the room in the direction he’d just come from.
Jeffery followed more slowly, and by the time he made it to the Governor’s office, the man from the lobby was standing at the door holding it open impatiently.
“Right this way,” he said, motioning for Jeffery to enter the room and following him inside. “This is the man, sir, the one who has a letter from the Sheriff where the fugitives were seen.”
The Governor – a man of average height with snow white hair – stood behind his desk; his expression was hopeful, yet serious at the same time.
“I’m Governor Ishmael Cooper. Who might you be, and what news do you have?” he asked eagerly.
“I’s Jeffery, sa, Jeffery Wright. I has dis here letter from Sheriff Bob,” Jeffery said, handing it to the Governor, who opened it with swift fingers.
The man’s eyes danced over the page as he took in the information written there.
“Hmm. . . Robbed the bank and killed some folks,” Cooper said, sitting back down with a frown. “I think I have just the man to track down this band of rough necks.”
Jeffery nodded, and turned slightly to look at the man still hovering in the doorway.
“Jacobs?”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, coming forward slightly.
“Would you bring Houndtooth to me, please?” Cooper asked.
Jacobs paled and nodded, stepping back and disappearing out the door.
Cooper turned his attention back to Jeffery.
“Mr....Wright, was it?”
Jeffery nodded.
“May I send my man and a correspondence back with you?” Cooper asked. “It’s imperative that they both arrive swiftly.”
“Yes’sa,” Jeffery said, “I can takes ‘em back wit’ me.”
“Good,” Cooper said, and set to writing a letter for Sheriff Bob and completely ignored his guest.
Jeffery looked around the Governor’s office and enjoyed himself at first, seeing all the new and shiny objects. He’d finally relaxed after the initial culture shock of stepping inside the capitol building. But, eventually his eyes found things he was familiar with – very familiar with. Trinkets from his homeland, from his past, graced nooks and crannies around the room. Voodoo was evident here and that made him uneasy. He’d seen many disturbing things in his youth, from some of the older slaves who could still remember their homeland and culture. They’d put hexes on some of their white masters, and one had even brought a dead man back to life and had extensive control of him. The man had soon been killed again, and there was nothing anyone could do about it, but it had been a great amusement to the witch doctor that’d had control for a few days; he’d enjoyed scaring the people who’d still been living. The memories were making Jeffery’s blood run cold and he fidgeted with his clothes nervously; he couldn’t wait to get out of this strange man’s office.
The door opened behind him and Jeffery jumped, spinning to see Jacobs and the other man the Governor had sent for. His unease grew at the sight of the newcomer.
“Come in,” Cooper said, still writing. “I’m almost done.”
Houndtooth walked into the room looking straight ahead; his movements were methodical and seemed to be exaggerated, almost controlled.
Jeffery stepped aside to put more distance between himself and the strange man.
“Mr. Wright, this is Jebediah Houndtooth – my esteemed bounty hunter,” Cooper said, standing and reading over his letter.
Jeffery looked at Houndtooth and studied him. The man’s eyes were very light and he couldn’t tell if they were an extremely pale blue or if they were white. His skin was a grayish color and seemed to be overly dry, and a strong pungent odor emanated from him, making Jeffery want to gag.
“Here you go,” Cooper said, coming around the desk to hand Jeffery a folded piece of paper and to speak to Houndtooth. “You’ll go with Mr. Wright and track down the fugitives.”
/> Houndtooth nodded and repeated what Cooper said in a hoarse voice that wasn’t much more than a whisper.
Jeffery’s flesh broke out in goosebumps at the sound and he was quaking inside at the thought of traveling with this strange man – that he didn’t even think was a man any longer – alone.
“Do you need anything else before you set out?” Cooper asked, turning to Jeffery. “A fresh horse? Rest? Food?”
“No, sa,” Jeffery answered.
If Cooper would have asked him the same questions before Houndtooth had arrived, he’d have probably taken up the offer of rest and food, but now he was too unnerved for either.
“Great! Off you go then,” Cooper said, and ushered them both out the door.
Jeffery stood in the hall with Houndtooth behind him. He couldn’t hear the man breathing and glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was still there and real. Sure enough, he was standing in the hall staring straight ahead.
With a deep sigh, Jeffery stepped forward and stopped again.
Houndtooth did the same; it was eerie.
Closing his eyes briefly, Jeffery started to walk down the hall and proceeded through the lobby and out of the building with the bounty hunter right behind him. He was shocked to see that there was another horse tied next to his, and when he mounted his own, Houndtooth did the same with the provided horse.
He be a zombie controlled by Cooper, Jeffery kept thinking over and over again as they rode out of town, heading back toward Bristleton.
Chapter 5
Sheriff Bob called the posse together when the storm broke early in the morning; the sky was still dark, but was slowly brightening with the promise of a new day. By his figuring, Jeffery had to be almost to the capitol building and the Governor, but he couldn’t wait to hear from him; for all he knew it would be a day or more before he would return with help.
He looked over the drunken group of men who’d spent the night in the saloon, waiting to be sent out to catch the men who’d taken their money and killed their town’s people. Among them was the man who’d lost his wife, and he was stone sober. Standing beside him was the man who’d lost his daughter. They were the only two men in the crowd, other than himself and the deputy, who hadn’t drunk the night away. In his opinion, they’d had the most right to drown their sorrows in a bottle, but he understood the burning urge for justice and/or revenge that kept them sharp.
“We’re going out to find the men who robbed the bank and killed the citizens of our town,” he said. “I would like to take as many alive as possible to stand trial for what they’ve done, but I don’t want any more of you at risk, so shoot to kill if you need to. Either way, these men need to be stopped, and stopped now, before they can do more harm.”
The crowd of men cheered and yelled in agreement. A couple of them even fired shots into the air.
“Let’s mount up and get out there,” he continued, hoping the drunk men wouldn’t shot themselves or each other in their eagerness. “We have all day to find the bastards!”
More cheering ensued as the group of men dispersed to mount their horses.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait ‘til they’ve sober up a bit, sir?” Deputy Madison asked, coming up behind the Sheriff.
He sighed. “We don’t have time to wait – we’ve already had to wait long enough. We’ll just have to pray they don’t shoot themselves or each other rather than the escaped convicts.”
Madison nodded and watched the Sheriff walk away to mount his own horse; he followed suit.
They led the loud group of men out of town in the same direction the outlaws had gone the day before, but they soon became discouraged since there was no trail to follow. Bob knew there probably wouldn’t be, considering the amount of sand that had been blowing around, but he’d prayed there would be some kind of sign to lead them.
By midday the posse of drunken men were tired, hot, and cranky. They’d wanted to ride out and solve their problems with their guns, but the elements and fate weren’t kind to them, and they didn’t get their wish.
Angry and miserable, the posse headed back to town and Sheriff Bob contemplated the next plan of attack – he was hoping Jeffery would come back with a regiment of soldiers from the Governor.
Chapter 6
“What we goin’ ta do ‘bout food?” Sam whined around midday.
“Don’ ya has some jerky lef’?” Dan asked, frowning at the portly man. “Or did ya eat i’ all already?”
Sam didn’t respond, but kept his glare focused on Bill. He was still pissed at him about the shirt thing from earlier, and being hungry wasn’t helping his mood.
Bill sighed and looked at Sam. “Go hunting for snakes or something if you want. You’re the one who’s quick as hell with a gun. Just hope that the posse isn’t out riding around looking for us and hears your damn gunshots!”
Sam crossed his arms and sulked; he wanted to eat, but he didn’t want to get caught. He’d hoped to pressure one of the others into sharing their stores of jerky, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. They’d been lucky enough to nab some while they were in town, staking out the bank for the robbery. They’d divided it up evenly, but he’d eaten all of his because he was hungry. He was always hungry. He figured Matt probably would have given him what he wanted just to shut him up, but he was sound asleep and snoring in the back of the cave.
“How long we goin’ ta hide here, anyhow?” he continued to whine.
“For a couple of days probably,” Bill said, leaning his head back against the stone wall he was sitting against, closing his eyes, and covering his face with his hat.
“What we ‘posed ta eat while we wait?” Sam asked the cave at large.
“If ya don’ stop cryin’ like a lil girl,” Dan growled, “I’m goin’ ta have ta shoot ya. Hell, it’s bad ‘nough dat we has ta hide ou’ like animals in a hole in da ground, without hasin’ ta listen ta yer mouth!”
“Ya don’t want ta listen ta me? Fine!” Sam yelled, stood, and marched out of the cave and into the bright dessert sunlight. He didn’t know what he planned to do, but he couldn’t just sit in there anymore.
“We jus’ goin’ ta let ‘im go?” Dan asked Bill; he knew he wasn’t asleep, but was pretending to be so he didn’t have to deal with Sam.
“Yes,” Bill answered. “If he does get caught, they’ll probably shoot him dead and it will be one less man to split the cash with.”
Dan nodded and watched the mouth of the cave, wondering if Sam would return or if he would meet his fate with the posse.
Chapter 7
Jeffery rode back to Bristleton faster than he’d left, pushing his horse to near exhaustion – something he never did because he loved his horse. The man – Houndtooth – was bugging him. He hadn’t spoken at all since they’d left the Governor’s office, or made any other sound. When Jeffery had stopped to relieve himself, the man had stayed mounted and stared straight ahead. Nothing of Houndtooth’s actions indicated that he was even remotely human, and that caused Jeffery’s unease to continually grow with every mile they traveled. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake in agreeing to take the bounty hunter back with him – he couldn’t see how the man could in any way benefit the town.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Houndtooth was a zombie and the Governor was his controlling master. He didn’t know how Cooper had gotten into Voodoo, or even knew what it was, but he was unnerved by the whole deal. There wasn’t a single moment during the entire ride that he wasn’t scared Houndtooth was going to snap into action and attack him.
When his small hometown came into view, just as the sun was beginning to set, Jeffery breathed a sigh of relief.
“Almos’ home,” he muttered, and then glanced at the zombie bounty hunter, not sure what to do. He’d been talking more than normal the entire trip back, because he was nervous – when he was extremely nervous he chattered, and not much ever made him nervous. “You’ll get to hunt down ‘em fugitives soon,” Jeffer
y continued.
“Fugitives. . .” Houndtooth said, and instantly Jeffery wished he hadn’t gotten the strange being to respond; every hair on his body stood on end and it felt like a frozen snake had slowly slithered down his spine.
Something else weird happened too – Houndtooth sniffed the air and then sighed. He suddenly turned his horse and headed off on a course parallel to the town that was still some miles off in the distance.
“Where you going?” Jeffery asked, steering his horse to follow.
“Fugitives,” Houndtooth said again.
Suppressing a shudder, Jeffery rode beside the bounty hunter.
“Shouldn’t we goes to town and get da posse ‘fore we head into da dessert to find ‘em bad men?” he asked.
Houndtooth didn’t acknowledge him and increased his pace after sniffing the air again.
“I’s going into town to let my horse res’,” Jeffery called after him, turning his horse to steadily walk in the direction of town. “I make sure da posse comes out to help you.”
Houndtooth kept riding onward as darkness eased across the prairie, intent on whatever he could smell on the cooling air.
Chapter 8
Sam was lost and he knew it. He’d been angry and hungry when he’d stormed off in his tizzy. Darkness was now falling and he couldn’t remember where the cave was; it wasn’t like they’d spent a lot of time coming and going from the place so he could get his bearings.
He stomped around rocks that he thought looked familiar, but only realized they were after he passed the same ones multiple times.
“Damn it!” he yelled, and plopped his ass down on a rock to wait for the moon to rise high enough for him to see it. He’d thought about following the sun, since it was setting and it always set in the west, but on the canyon floor it was hard to see exactly where the sun was when it wasn’t in the middle of the sky, since the tall walls blocked most visual paths.
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