Guns of Seneca 6 (Chamber 1 of the Guns of Seneca 6 Saga)

by Bernard Schaffer

  “He’s had to tell the story so many times that the latest version is you killed a twenty-foot space monster with your bare hands and he blew up a fleet of space cruisers with a ray gun,” Anna said.

  “Maybe it wasn’t twenty feet,” Jem said with a wink. “It was hard to tell with the armada closing down on us.”

  “You should go in there, Jem,” Claire said. “They’ll want to fawn all over you too, I expect.”

  “How’s the Marshal?”

  “His wounds will take time, and he’ll be pretty immobile for awhile, but he should walk normally again,” Anna said. “As long as he listens to me and stays put and I can manage to keep Janet away from him.”

  Jem opened the Marshal’s bedroom door and walked into the dim-lit room. Jimmy McParlan was sitting up in bed looking at him. “I thought that girl told you to be quiet.”

  “You must be feeling better,” Jem said.

  “I’m fine and dandy after the stuff she pumped into me. Before you got here I was watching little pink bunnies dance around my room.” Both of McParlan’s wrists were bandaged and there were thick casts wrapped around his legs from his kneecaps to the tips of his toes. “Still hurts though.”

  “Want me to stay with you?”

  “Hell no, you damn fool. You think this is the first time I’ve been crucified and set on fire?” McParlan smiled and said, “I’ll be fine. Now take that pretty doctor lady home and make sweet love to her, boy.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Jem said.

  “Then send her in here and I’ll give it a whirl. She needs to promise to be careful with me though. I’m in kind of a fragile state.”

  ***

  Anna and Jem walked together toward the Proud Lady. Men standing on the porch saw him coming and called out to the people inside, “Jem’s back!”

  People flooded onto the street and surrounded him. Someone passed a bottle of whiskey through the crowd until it landed in Jem’s hand.

  “Nothing like a sip of whiskey after killing a fifty foot space monster,” he said, nodding his head at Bart Masters. He uncorked the bottle and lifted it to his lips when Bart Masters said, “Wait a second, Jem.”

  Bart raised a glass and said, “Welcome home, we missed you. Bout time you showed up.”

  ***

  They came to Anna’s front door and Jem stopped, scraping his foot on the porch. “What is it?” Anna said.

  He laughed to himself and said, “McParlan told me to take you home and make ‘sweet love’ to you. Sounds kind of creepy to hear him say it.”

  Anna put her hand against her face and feigned blushing. “Would that be such a terrible thing to have to do?”

  He looked at her in the twin moonlight. “No. In fact, I aim to do exactly that. But maybe not tonight, if that’s okay.”

  “Tell you what,” Anna said. “Let me draw you a hot bath and get you out of those godforsaken clothes. When you get out, my bedroom door will be open. You can do whatever you want after that.”

  Anna walked into the house and headed toward the wash room. The pipes clanged as she cranked the handles and jets of warm water opened up to fill the copper basin. Jem went inside and shut the door. He stood in the doorway as Anna unbuckled his gun belt. She bent to grab his boots, telling him, “Lift your foot.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “You might as well get used to it. In this house we leave our boots on the porch. If you’re going to stay here, you need to learn the rules.”

  “Actually, I was thinking about taking up in the Halladay house. I thought you might go over there with me and take a look at it tomorrow.”

  She yanked on the toe and heel of his first boot and slid it off. There was a hint of disappointment when she said, “If that’s what you want to do.” She held the boots away from her like they were filled with sewage. “Get out of those clothes so I can boil them. You smell worse than an outhouse.”

  Jem stripped and climbed into the copper basin. He settled down into the hot water and let it soak into his muscles. Anna came back into the washroom and pressed a sponge against his neck and started to scrub him. Jem closed his eyes and rested.

  ***

  Old Man Willow’s map was not easy to follow, with its stick figures and pyramid mountains. Jem stood on the place that he thought resembled the map’s “X” and looked around the road, not far from where Walt Junger had died.

  Any evidence of that night was gone. The bodies of both Junger and Elliot were gone. It was hard country in the wasteland, and Jem kicked a rock into the ditch that ran alongside the road. There were piles of rocks and dirt scattered by two decades of violent dust storms and the occasional flood.

  Jem walked along the ditch inspecting the rocks. He dug out a few with the shovel he borrowed from Claire and after a few minutes, became frustrated and moved on. He came to a large pile of rocks buried on top of one another, cemented together with dried mud. He shattered the pile with his pickax and started to pry up a round stone from the ground when he realized it was the ball joint of a human femur.

  He bent down and dug out the rest of the bone with his hands and starting searching for more. There were various pieces of a skeleton within feet of each other and soon, Jem had enough to assemble large portions of the legs and spine. He dug deeper and the ground started to cave in over an animal’s hole. He stuck his hand into the dirt and his fingers went through what felt like large holes in a bowling ball and he yanked a human skull out of the ground. He sat by the side of the road, turning the skull over in his hands and brushing the dirt away.

  He found tattered fabrics and as he cleaned them off, recognized them as pieces of the shirt Sam Clayton was wearing the morning he left from the Willow house.

  Jem set everything aside and sat on the road for a long while. After some time, he folded all of the bones inside a blanket and placed it on the back of his wagon. He went back to re-check the area and kept digging until his shovel hit something metal in the dirt.

  Sam’s leather gun belt was stiff as a rock and both Colt Defenders were still in the holsters. He had to force the guns out of the holsters and smack them against the ground to break open the cylinders. The guns were still loaded, but the bullets were corroded to the point that Jem had to dig the rounds out of the chambers with his knife.

  He cocked one of the hammers back and dry fired the gun. The action still worked.

  ***

  Jimmy McParlan was standing hunched over on a set of crutches at the security gate to Seneca 6. Pain was etched across his face and sweat ran down his forehead. “What the hell are you doing out here?” Jem said. “Anna will kill you if she catches you out of bed.”

  The Marshal rested on one of the crutches and took his hat off. He turned to face the casket and nodded, “I came to pay my respects. Heard a lawman was coming home.”

  “It’s just a pile of bones, Marshal.”

  McParlan squinted at Jem and said, “Seems like all the elected officials in this town have run off. Got any ideas about what happened to them?”

  “Only what I already said about the subject.”

  “Is that right? Well, being that I’m the closest thing to the government left in this town, it’s my responsibility to appoint emergency persons who can keep everything from going to hell. What do you think of that Bart Masters fella? He seems like the even-minded sort.”

  “I couldn’t think of a more decent person, Marshal.” Jem fished in his pocket for the Sheriff’s badge and held it out, “My father would be proud to know Bart was wearing his badge.”

  McParlan looked at the worn badge without reaching for it and said, “You really are dense, boy. I meant as the Mayor, not the Sheriff. You’re going to be the damn Sheriff.”

  Jem laughed and said, “I don’t think so. I’m not exactly a law-abiding enough citizen to enforce it.”

  “I’ve seen a lot of men with badges in my day, Jem. Most weren’t worth a squirt of piss when it came down to the important parts of
the job. I think you’ve got the stuff.”

  “Can I have some time to think it over?”

  “Hell no. The way you people treat visitors, I might not be around much longer. Besides, who are you kidding? We both know what you’ll say. Now get going and take that man home. He earned some rest.” McParlan propped himself against the security gate to stand upright and saluted Sam’s remains. “Hurry up, damn it, before I pass out.”

  Jem headed toward Claire and Frank’s home. He thought about what he would say to Claire, and whether she would want to see what was inside the blanket before Jem dug a hole beside their mother’s grave and laid the blanket inside of it. He wondered if she’d say no and be angry at him for asking. He wondered if she’d say yes and regret it.

  The badge stayed in his hand while he rode, and he ran his thumb over the letters spelling Sheriff over and over. He could still picture Sam leaning back in the rocking chair on Old Man Willow’s porch saying, “Someday when you’re an attorney out on some big Metropolis-Class planet, you’ll look back on all this with amazement, I bet. All this fighting and killing over what? A barren bunch of land with the misfortune of having some of the rarest stones in the galaxy buried underneath it.”

  “What if I said I’m not going anywhere? Maybe I’ll be a Sheriff just like you?” Jem said.

  “Just like me?” Sam said.

  Claire’s home was in sight now. Jem tucked the badge into his left shirt pocket and felt it bounce against his chest as he rode. He put his hand over it and pressed it to his heart and said, “That’s right.”

  F rom the Author

  Before I was born, my old man and Uncle Billy conspired against my mother to name me "Wyatt." True story. Sure, my dad tried to get the name approved in the conventional way by asking mom, but she'd turned him down flat. So, a deal was struck. They'd get all my aunts and uncles together and hold a drawing. Whatever name got pulled from the hat would be the one yours truly got stuck with for all his days.

  Everybody sat down in the living room and wrote their selection on a slip of paper and dropped it into the hat. The hat was then passed around the room, until it came to my Uncle Billy. Now, all Billy was supposed to do was stick his vote in and pass it to my mom so she could pull out the winning entry, but little did they know, some Schaffer boy mischief was afoot.

  My dad distracted the group while Billy changed out the other entries and replaced them all with a bunch of slips that read Wyatt. He passed the hat to my mom and she stuck her hand in to pull out the winning name and from what I hear, shrieked out loud when she saw what it was.

  Picture my dad and his brother dancing around, cheering and celebrating, while my mom and all her sisters looked on in dumbstruck horror.

  My mom's no dummy though, and it wasn't long before she grabbed the hat and checked the rest of the slips. My dad's plan soon unraveled and the rest is history. In truth, it would've taken me a long time to grow into the name Wyatt. There weren't many kids growing up in Horsham Township, Pennsylvania, with that name. Come to think of it, Bernard was no walk in the park either. At least with Wyatt, I'd be able to tell you I was born to write books like Guns of Seneca 6. With a name like Bernard, I had to take the long way around and earn the right.

  Scorned women, fixed elections and scandals.

  I'm sure Wyatt Earp would have been amused.

  In 2010 I visited Earp's grave out in Colma, California. Took a little bit of dirt from it that I still keep in a small box on my desk. Right after I got back from that trip is when I first decided I wanted to write a book about the Old West on a distant planet. Kept that dirt nearby me the whole time.

  Acknowledgements

  GUNS OF SENECA 6 was inspired by the real life events and lives of the men and women who lived in the American West in the late 1800’s. My love for the stories of Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Jesse James, Sitting Bull, the members of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency, and everything else associated with those times resulted in this book.

  I owe a debt of gratitude to author Ron Hansen for his books THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES and DESPERADOES. Ron’s work brought a level of sophistication to the Old West that I had never seen before, and I would never have conceived this project without his influence.

  To Little Bear, Bear, and Cisco. My dream of Seneca began that day in the teepee when we shared a pipe. When I see myself riding through its dusty canyons, I see you all there with me.

  To Karen “The Angry Hatchet” for all of her hard work editing the original version of this book. You have been a stunningly generous friend and I am lucky to know you. Thank you for everything.

  To Glendon Haddix of Streelight Graphics. I still can’t get over the design of the guns that you came up with based on my humble descriptions.

  To Sandie for reviewing the manuscript and catching my mistakes.

  To the Kindle All-Stars, and most specifically, Laurie. This is the first book in what promises to be a long line of books from our organization. It is my constant privilege to be at your side. Laurie, I know I lay a lot of responsibility at your door for the KAS. It’s only because I trust you.

  To Harlan Ellison. What can I say? You inspired me as a boy to become a writer, then challenged me as an adult to become a better one. Getting to know you has been one of the great pleasures of my professional career.

  To Heather Marie. I know you see us in this book. I hope we can do better.

  To Brandon and Julia Rose. No matter how far daddy rides out into the wasteland, I’m always coming home.

  To Izdehar, who listened to my idea for a new short story, and as I began talking about the planet and the natives and the gang of intergalactic criminals coming to destroy the town, said, “That’s not a short story. It’s a book.”

  To my family, friends, and everyone who supports my work and the work of other independent authors. Remember, the kindest thing you can do if you enjoyed a book is to tell other people about it. Your reviews, mentions on Twitter, and suggestions to other readers are invaluable. Thank you for everything.

  About the Author

  Bernard Schaffer is the father of two children. Born and raised in the Philadelphia area, Schaffer's writing career has resulted in a Kindle Top 100 book, multiple international best-sellers, and invitations to lecture on independent writing and publishing.

  Schaffer is the founder of the Kindle All-Stars, a group that dedicates its profits to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Schaffer is also associated with WorldReaders.Org, a group that provides free books to schools and libraries in Africa, and former participant in Operation Ebook Drop, providing free books to troops deployed overseas, before it was discontinued.

  A decorated police officer, Schaffer has served as a patrolman, detective and narcotics officer and is an expert witness in possession with intent to distribute controlled substances cases.

  Readers are invited to contact him via any of the listed means. He will respond.

  For More Information about Bernard Schaffer

  Official Website

  The Bernard Schaffer Author Facebook Fan Page

  Email: ApiarySociety@gmail.com

  Twitter: @ApiarySociety

  Access the Dropbox

  Fans can now access the Bernard Schaffer Dropbox to download free stories, essays, poems, and much more. Be sure to check out the author's Star Trek Return Fire series, which includes files for all available eReader devices.

  Receive a Personalized Authorgraph for this Book!

  Bernard Schaffer is a proud participant in the Authorgraph program, which allows readers to request a personalized note for any of the listed books. Simply click the above link and be sure to mention a few things about yourself. You will receive a response shortly thereafter!

  Looking for your Next Great Read?

  Many authors write consistently in one genre, (or even, it must be said, one series) but tend to never veer outside of their category (or, it also must be said, challenge themselves or t
heir audience).

  Not so with someone as prolific as Bernard Schaffer.

  His work includes classic literature, crime novels, science fiction, westerns, and most recently, a series of children's stories about dragons just because his six-year old daughter challenged him to. And that's not all. By far, the most consistent question we receive from readers is "What should I read next?"

  What follows is a categorical breakdown of his titles currently available. It's designed to help you decide which book will be your next favorite read. Click on the cover image to be taken to the Amazon product page and enjoy.

  Category: Literature

  "A great piece of modern literature!"

  From the first moment the beautiful, yet unavailable, Sahily comes into his life, everything changes. Not even the ghost of a vengeful Ernest Hemingway will stop him from winning her heart.

  A true piece of modern literature, The Girl From Tenerife is a heart-wrenching story of love, victory, and loss. A haunting tribute to the older generation of writers who influenced the author and yet defiantly makes his case for the right to stand among them.

  Click the cover image to purchase. Available in Kindle, Print.

  Category: Police Procedural

  "Schaffer is dark, funny, and tortured throughout," The Book Nook Club

  The ongoing saga of good cops fighting a corrupt system as much as they do a never-ending army of pedophiles, drug dealers, and a psychopathic six foot bunny rabbit.

  Click the cover image to purchase. Available in Kindle, Print.

  Category: Western/Science Fiction

  "Magnificient is hardly the word. Once again, wow. I love the world of Seneca 6. The story reads like one of the timeless tales that came from the Western Frontier. Even though science fiction elements are mixed into the narrative, they don't overpower the story or take away. They are essential to the world building that Mr. Schaffer has done so excellently."