"Not in the least. My orders were to recover the stolen weapons. I care about nothing else,” the major snapped. “Though the United States government is grateful for your assistance."
"Suit yourself.” I took one last look at the crater and was relieved there still was no sign of any tentacle-covered monster climbing out of the hole. “Then I guess we'll be off."
"Returning to San Francisco?"
"Yes,” I agreed. I hoped I still had a job waiting for me.
The major said, “Well, good luck then."
Then there was a roar of gunfire. Bullets were whizzing all around us. It was over seconds after it began. Every soldier, except for the major, was lying on the ground. They'd all taken more than enough bullets. They were all dead. I looked myself over. The major and I seemed unharmed.
"I think the people who stole the Gatling guns have returned,” I said, carefully looking around us, trying not to provoke another barrage of gunfire. We were completely surrounded by men on horses, dressed in gray uniforms and each pointing a rifle at us.
Five of them rode up to us. We were both quickly tied up. Then, we were taken about a mile inland from the river, to a large camp that was filled with men in gray uniforms. I figured there had to be at least a thousand of them. This was a much bigger operation than the last time I'd seen them.
I wish I had known they had a camp so close. I wish I'd known about the hidden Gatling guns. If I had, I'd have done like the graduate fellow and run away, leaving the Martian monster to fight with these guys. But I didn't. So, I was tied up and, once again, prisoner of the men in gray.
We were taken to the center of the camp. I was yanked off of Paul and dragged inside a large yellow canvas tent.
The major arrived a few seconds later. The bony guy looked up from his ledger book. He grinned at me with those ghastly teeth. “Ah, you have come back so we can kill you again,” General Creed said. Then he looked at the major. “And you're here. We can kill you for the first time. I have wanted you dead for quite some time."
"Why didn't your men just gun us down a few minutes ago? I don't believe Mr. O'Malley and I were missed by accident,” the major said.
I'd been wondering the same thing. “Not with that many guns pointed at us."
"Well, I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to, most badly,” General Creed replied. “But, I had other considerations."
"Considerations?” the major asked.
"You'll see,” Creed said. “Very soon, you'll see.” He grinned at us with those ghastly green teeth. “And, thank you, Mr. O'Malley for testing my new Gatling gun. It had never been fired before today. What did you think of it?"
"I was quite impressed.” And that was the truth.
"So was I. I only wish you hadn't shot up all of my ammunition,” Creed said. He looked at the major. “Did you know there is a shortage of ammunition for these guns? A serious shortage?"
"They're new,” the major said.
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Chapter 15
BIRD OF PREY
We were locked up inside a big iron cage, after being searched for weapons.
People were scurrying around. They were getting ready for something, I just didn't know what. The major sat himself in the corner of the cage and pretended not to pay attention to the goings on. I just watched them load their wagons because I had nothing else to do and thought it foolish to pretend I did.
After about an hour of this, I said, “Well, I wonder when they're going to kill me this time."
"Just after dusk,” the major instantly answered.
"Dusk never meant anything before.” I looked at him. “They just tried to kill me any old time in the past."
"We're not going to be killed, precisely, Mr. O'Malley. We're going to be sacrificed in some pagan ceremony.” The major stood. “And those happen just after dusk.” He looked at the sky. “And that is about half an hour away."
"Sacrifice? How do you know all this?"
"Mr. O'Malley, I'm with the Secret Service.” He sat himself back down in the corner of the cage. “We know everything."
I didn't know much about the Secret Service, though I'd been dealing with them. I figured he was right, though. “Any idea how to get out of this mess?"
"Nope."
"Figure anyone will come along and rescue us?"
"Nope."
About half an hour later, the sun was just a sliver of light on the horizon. A whole bunch of guys in gray came and took us up onto an elevated wooden platform. They made us sit in chairs. There was a flat table on the other side of the platform. There were stains on it that I didn't like the look of, reddish brown stains. A crowd formed around the platform. I noticed General Creed was at the base of the platform, peering at me. Then, everything grew really quiet.
Four guys in gray came up onto the platform, followed by some other guy in an orange and black robe. The guy in the robe unrolled a bundle and removed a bunch of gruesome knives, then lined them up in a neat row along the edge of the table. When he had everything arranged to his liking, he nodded at General Creed.
Somehow, everything got even quieter. The silence was broken as a wagon rolled up next to the platform. It sort of reminded me of the enclosed wagons used by flimflam men who sell potions and elixirs that never seem to do much good for folks. A door on the side opened and the most bizarre creature I'd ever seen stepped directly onto the platform from the wagon. I'd already been told what Ah Puch looked like, but this was an odd sight indeed.
He dressed like a man—a tall man in the latest city slicker gray suit—but, he had the head of an owl. He looked over the crowd, then raised his hands for an instant. “Welcome warriors, welcome all,” he said in a high pitched chirping sort of voice. Ah Puch looked at me, then at the major with wide, virtually unblinking eyes. He pointed at the major, who was immediately picked up and tossed onto the table. They had him strapped down in seconds.
"Many years ago, in the jungles of the Yucatan, it was customary for the ancient people to sacrifice a warrior before going into battle. This assured victory.” He held up one of the most crooked, gruesome knives I had ever seen. In one fierce motion, he plunged it down into the major's chest. Ah Puch made a few cuts, then he rose up, holding the major's still-beating heart in his hands for all to see.
After letting everyone see it, he quickly devoured it, shredding it with his beak.
"Citizens of the new republic, victory awaits you. Tomorrow, you will capture Sacramento. You will find little resistance. Then, you will take San Francisco. The insignificant towns to the south will fall to the wayside.” Ah Puch allowed the guy in the robe to wash the blood off his hands. “Our outposts will destroy the railroad. The Union army will discover just how hard it is to cross the Sierra Nevada, especially with our snipers in place."
He kind of made a little jump. “Yes, they will have to go around. Their ships will need a year to get here. A year for us to prepare for them. California—the new California—is ours. Citizens, ride—ride on into the night. Ride on to victory."
He went over to the edge of the platform and stepped back inside the wagon. The wagon immediately was pulled by its team of horses out of the area.
I was feeling really sick, as I thought about the gruesome travesty committed on the major. I asked one of the guys in gray, “How come I didn't get sacrificed?"
"You were the spare. There is always a spare.” Two of them picked me up, still bound, at my shoulders and began carrying me. “He wants to see you."
"General Creed?"
"No."
I was dragged about a hundred yards, to where the show wagon was now parked. They knocked on the door. Even though I never heard any type of reply, the door was opened and I was thrown inside. The wagon was elegantly furnished. Ah Puch sat on a leather sofa. I was allowed to lie on the floor, nicely carpeted though it was.
"Mr. O'Malley, when I send assassins, those people I send them after are expected to become dead,” Ah Puch chirped. “You are not de
ad. Judge Hastings is not dead.” He pointed a finger at me. “Do you know why?"
"Yes."
"I will tell you why. You both serve Satan. You are both servants of the evil one,” Ah Puch said.
It seemed ludicrous, him calling me a servant of evil, especially after what I had just witnessed. “Well, I'm not really."
"Silence! You think I do not know your master is behind my setbacks. He fears me, for I am the rightful ruler of the underworld."
This conversation had started strange. It was moving quickly to bizarre. “I don't know nothing about that. I'm just a barber from San Francisco."
He gently placed my revolver on a small table. “This was not manufactured by the good people at Colt, Mr. O'Malley. There is no brand on it of any kind. Where was it made?"
"I do not know.” And that was the truth, though I'd often wondered.
"Where did you get it?"
"Nick gave it to me,” I answered. “He buys good stuff, but I don't know where it came from."
"Call him by his name!” Ah Puch demanded.
"Well, he told me to call him Nick,” I insisted.
He held up my revolver and examined it. His big owl eyes couldn't seem to get enough of it. “Remarkable workmanship.” He placed it back down. “And the horse, the big black horse you ride. Where did it come from?"
"Nick gave him to me."
"Gave him to you?"
"That is correct. I retrieved some property a while back. Nick was very appreciative."
His big eyes grew a little bigger. “The Helmet of Hades. That, like so much, should belong to me."
"Look, whatever beef you've got with Nick—Mr. Mephistopheles—take it up with him. Maybe you two could have a duel or something."
He jumped off the sofa and picked me up with one hand. He placed me in a chair, a red crushed velvet chair that was rather comfortable. Then he seated himself again. “A duel, I like that. I really do. A shame it is not likely to happen.” He stared off at the ceiling for a moment. “That horse of yours has escaped. General Creed informs me this is not the first time. Is he likely to go and warn the sheriff in Sacramento? The governor?"
The thought of Paul warning anyone seemed comical. “Uh ... he might. I don't know what he's up to.” I figured I'd be happy to feed this guy's paranoia a little. “He's a real smart horse."
"No matter, plans are already in place. In a few hours, it will not matter. California will be mine.” Ah Puch poured himself a small glass of what looked like sherry. He drank it in one effort. He did not offer me one. After emptying the glass, his attention returned to my revolver. “I really like the balance of this gun. I really do.” He rang a small dinner bell.
A fellow in one of those colorful robes trotted in. Ah Puch aimed the gun at him and fired. A hole punched through the poor fellow's face, and the back of his head exploded. The man was dead before his body hit the floor.
"Remarkable accuracy for a handgun. It is truly remarkable. May I have it?” He looked at me with those huge eyes. “May I?"
"You already do,” I said, once again stating the obvious.
He held it in front of his face. “No, Mr. O'Malley. I hold it. I just killed a man with it. However, only a thief could convince himself this weapon was his. I am no thief.” Ah Puch placed the gun on the little table. “May I have it? I will make it worth your while."
"How so?"
"I'll give you your freedom, in exchange for this weapon. You can go."
"I can go?"
"Yes,” he promised.
"I accept."
"Excellent.” Again, he rang the dinner bell. Again, some guy in robes raced in. “He pointed at the dead body. “I want that removed.” Then he clicked open a folding knife, went behind me and cut loose the ropes that restrained me. “Mr. O'Malley is free to go. I want to hear nothing of any ambushes or accidents. He is free. Assign someone, an officer, to escort him safely out of camp."
"Yes, Great Lord,” the fellow in the robe said.
Ah Puch, Mayan God of the Underworld, aimed the revolver at a spider on the wall. “Follow the priest out, Mr. O'Malley. You will not be harmed.” He fired the gun and the spider was blown asunder and replaced by a hole in the wall. He made a kind of screeching noise. I was more than happy to leave that wagon.
I was escorted by some guy in gray with captain's insignia, assuming their army used the same insignia as the United States did. A few of the sentries eyed me suspiciously, but no one tried to prevent my departure.
Ah Puch's strange code of conduct won my release. That, and the fact I'm sure he felt I would have no hope of interfering with his plans. At the perimeter of their camp, the captain pointed at the road, then headed back.
I started walking as fast as I could without appearing to run. I was just a little afraid someone might change their mind. I was especially nervous what General Creed might do when he found out. So, after plodding along for ten minutes, I found the road passed near a small mound. I climbed it.
There was an excellent view of the camp. The troops were moving out. They might take Sacramento. I certainly doubted the city was expecting a dawn invasion. From what I'd seen, I seriously doubted he had the resources to take over the entire state. Then, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Something bumped me from behind. I jerked my head around. At times, Paul could be amazingly silent. His jet-black color also made him nearly invisible. I was so glad to see him I hugged his big neck. “Boy, am I glad to see you."
My horse snorted.
"Ah Puch thought you might be warning the governor."
My horse snorted, again.
I pulled my rifle out of the saddlebags. Ah Puch may have been taken with the workmanship of my revolver. I didn't think he knew the same workmanship had produced a very fine repeating rifle as well.
"Paul, we need to go back. I've got to stop these guys."
My horse snorted again, this time a lot louder.
I knew I could not possibly stop General Creed's army, but I thought I might be able to stop their god. I wasn't really sure what Ah Puch really was. If he was a god from some dead civilization, I wondered what he was doing trying to take over California. On the other hand, he sure wasn't a human being. All I knew was he'd savagely tore apart the major and devoured his heart. He'd sent assassins after me.
This was an evil creature and it needed to die. What I did not know was the extent of his powers, if he had any. I still had another of the titanium bullets that I was supposed to have gotten rid of. God Himself told me they had no particular power. Yet, the angels and demons were all scared to death of them. Then there was the matter of the ghost that one of them destroyed. I decided to use one on Ah Puch. My dilemma was how best to use it.
I could let him know I had one. That might, or might not, add an element of fear. Ultimately, I decided to keep the element of surprise.
"Paul, this is asking a lot of a horse. But, Ah Puch thinks you're a super horse."
I took a position that was going to be about a 150-yard shot. This was farther than most rifles could shoot accurately. I'd been unable to hit things at this distance in the past, even with this rifle. However, it was as close as I could get. Most of the soldiers had moved out. There were still a few sentries posted around the perimeter. Any closer, and I would not be able to wait for an opportunity.
And I did have to wait. It was about an hour before Ah Puch was near the window on the side of the wagon. When I saw him, I patted Paul's flank. My horse took off. I could have sworn he'd been practicing stealth techniques. I could barely see or hear him. My horse covered the distance in seconds. Then, he started tapping on the window.
Ah Puch seemed startled, but he opened the window. “Mr. O'Malley isn't here.” He looked around. I suspected he had incredible night vision, as a real owl does. I was suddenly afraid he could see me as I was taking aim. It was not me he was looking for. “Guard!” he yelled. “Corral this horse.” He looked back at Paul “We'll take care of you, horsey.�
� Then he noticed the note in Paul's mouth. He opened up the piece of paper. I gave him just a second to begin to read the two-word message. As he read ‘titanium bullets’ on the crumpled paper, I squeezed the trigger.
The bullet roared through the still night air. Ah Puch, the Mayan God of the Underworld, was struck square in the chest. He fell backward and vanished from view. I do not know if the thought of titanium bullets played any role in anything. A regular bullet might have done the same thing.
To my horror, my horse briefly stuck his head inside the wagon. I thought he was trying to see if Ah Puch was dead.
He wasn't. He came racing back to me.
I jumped on him and we were off, galloping as fast as possible. When we were half a mile away, my horse stopped. I realized there was something in his mouth. I took my revolver from him. That was why he'd stuck his head inside. “Paul, I don't know what to say.” We began moving again, only at a more normal pace.
The bird man was only part of the problem. General Creed and all of his troops were still out there marching on Sacramento. And, I had no idea how to stop them or even warn anybody. And Paul was heading away from them.
I could not really blame him. I didn't want to go the other way, either. But the cavalry soldiers and the major were dead. There was no one else.
I realized we were near the crater where the Martian monster had crashed. The crater was now a lake, or more of a pond. The cave area was underwater. I knew there was still a topside entrance, but any supplies would still be underwater. And General Creed seemed to think there was no more ammunition. Checking to see if the second Gatling gun remained would be pointless.
Then, I noticed something moving, near the rocks that concealed the cave entrance. “Who goes there?” I challenged, as I readied my revolver, unsure if it was even loaded. I didn't know how many shots Ah Puch had taken with it.
Someone moved away from the rocks. Paul shook his head and started backing up. “Easy boy,” I said.
"Miles. Miles, is that you?” a woman asked.
"Angel?"
My horse snorted.
"She's not really crazy. It's just her job,” I whispered to Paul. My horse snorted, again
The Two Devils Page 17