Hope's End

by Mark Lukens

  Esmerelda stared at Moody in horror. It looked like she wanted to respond, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out, too shocked for a moment to speak.

  “He’s going to die,” Moody said. “Like the marshal just said. But he’s not dead yet. We could still use him while he’s alive.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Esmerelda asked Moody.

  “I’m just trying to save us,” Moody snapped at her. He looked at Jed beside him, then at Billy and Sanchez, and then finally at David. He looked back at Esmerelda. “That thing out there can do anything it wants to. We should’ve listened. We should’ve given him the tongue. And we could still do it. I know it’s after noon now, past the deadline, but maybe it will still accept the offering. Maybe it will realize that we’ve learned our lesson.”

  “Our lesson?” Esmerelda asked, her face scrunched up in disgust.

  “Yes,” Moody said. “We were supposed to give it an offering, or bad things were going to happen.” He glanced down at Karl who moaned softly. Karl seemed too weak to even writhe in pain anymore.

  “You don’t understand, do you?” Esmerelda said with pity.

  “I understand plenty now.”

  “I don’t think you do,” Esmerelda said. “These spiders were already inside Karl since early this morning. Ingrid put them inside of him when she kissed him.”

  “You . . . you don’t know that.”

  “How do you think they got inside of him?” she asked him. “This bad thing was going to happen to Karl whether we gave that monster a tongue or not.”

  “It does not want a tongue,” Billy said. “It will keep trying to frighten us so badly that we will do anything it wants. That is the story of the Ancient Enemy.”

  “And you know what it wants,” Jed said to Billy. “Don’t you? You know what it really wants.”

  Billy didn’t answer; he just stared right back at Jed.

  Jed looked at Esmerelda. “And so do you. You and Billy, the two of you have known all along what that thing has wanted.” Jed suddenly saw the answer that he’d been missing the entire time, and maybe he had been trying to avoid the answer because he didn’t want to face the truth—the monster out there wanted David.

  Esmerelda nodded slightly at Jed like she knew he had finally seen the truth.

  “He’s dead,” Sanchez said, nodding down at Karl.

  They all looked down at Karl. His body was still, his eyes half open, a line of bloody drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

  “We need to get him outside,” Jed said.

  Moody stared at Jed. “We shouldn’t open those doors right now.”

  “We’ve got two dead people upstairs to deal with,” Jed reminded him. “We don’t need another one right here in the middle of the saloon that can turn against us.”

  “He is right,” Billy said as he moved towards Karl.

  Esmerelda got up and moved out of the way as Sanchez helped Billy with Karl’s blanket.

  “Move back,” Jed told Moody. “Let them get Karl out of here.”

  Moody tried to stare Jed down, but he gave in and moved out of the way. “We should say something for him,” he said. “He was a Christian.”

  Sanchez pulled out a gold crucifix from under his shirt and held it in his fingers. He began praying in Spanish. Everyone was quiet as Sanchez finished the prayers. He tucked the crucifix back inside his shirt.

  “Thank you,” Esmerelda told him.

  Billy grabbed one corner of the blanket at the end of it, and Sanchez grabbed the other corner. Jed opened the saloon doors for them so they could drag Karl outside. He had his Colt in his hand, ready to cover them as they dragged Karl’s body down the walkway to the edge of it. Billy folded the rest of the blanket over Karl’s body, covering him up, whispering his own set of prayers as he did so.

  Jed looked up and down the street, but he didn’t see the pastor or anyone else around. He didn’t see any of the spiders out here either.

  After they went back inside the saloon, Billy helped Jed brace the doors shut again. The table legs braced in front of the doors seemed like a joke; if the Ancient Enemy wanted to get inside of the saloon, then it would.

  Esmerelda already had a broom and a bucket of water, cleaning up the dead spiders all over the floor.

  “We should get those holes in the floor patched up,” Jed said.

  Billy and Sanchez followed Jed to the storeroom to find a few more pieces of wood from the crates that they could use on the floor. After Jed had handed a few scraps of wood to Billy, he went into Moody’s office and came back out with Sanchez’s guns and gun belt in his hands. He handed them to Sanchez. “Can I trust you with these?”

  Sanchez nodded and took his guns and belt.

  “You’re giving that criminal his guns back?” Moody asked, shaking his head.

  “We’re all in this together now,” Jed told Moody, then he looked back at Sanchez, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. “We all need to help each other.”

  CHAPTER 29

  David helped Esmerelda clean up the dead spiders, and then he helped her carry the bucket of water so she could get as much of the blood cleaned up on the floor. Most of Karl’s blood had been soaked in his blanket, but there was still some on the floor. After they had cleaned up as best they could, David helped Esmerelda get some food ready for supper. She heated the leftover pot of stew on top of the stove.

  Jed watched David as he helped Esmerelda, and he swore he saw a smile on the boy’s face a few times after she had whispered something to him. David seemed more at ease now that he had a chore to do, something for his mind to focus on besides the horrors that waited outside the saloon doors.

  After the stew was warm, Esmerelda and David dished up bowls and brought them to the table along with the rest of the cornbread muffins. David drank another cup of tea while the rest of them sipped on coffee.

  Moody declined the food, opting to drink two more shots of whiskey instead. After he had drained the two whiskeys, he cradled the glass in front of him like he usually did, staring down at it.

  None of them felt like eating, and only Billy and Sanchez ate half of their meals. Esmerelda barely touched her bowl of stew, but she tried to encourage David to eat his. He slurped down a few bites of stew and nibbled at the muffin.

  They were all quiet now for a moment as they sat at the table. Moody was brooding, and Jed watched him for a moment, but Jed was thinking about the Ancient Enemy and what it really wanted—David.

  “It wants David,” Jed said. He looked at David who sat right next to Esmerelda.

  David stopped eating, his spoon still in his hand.

  “It killed David’s family, but not David,” Jed continued as he looked at Esmerelda. “Not because David was hiding, but because it couldn’t kill him. Right?” He looked at Billy. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  Billy nodded. “It wants us to kill the boy for it.”

  “I don’t think this is something we should be talking about in front of David,” Esmerelda said.

  Jed nodded. “I agree, but we don’t have a choice right now. We can’t split up.” He looked at David. “We’re not going to do anything to you,” he said. “You hear me? You have my word on that. We’re not giving you to that thing out there.”

  David barely nodded, still clutching his spoon and staring at Jed with wide eyes of fear.

  “But why?” Moody asked, finally lifting his head up from his shot glass and looking at them through red-rimmed eyes. “That thing out there is powerful, we’ve all seen that. It killed an entire town. Why can’t it kill some little Indian boy?”

  Billy stared at Moody. “Because David is a shaman.”

  “Like a medicine man?” Jed asked. He really didn’t know what the difference between a shaman or a medicine man was.

  Billy didn’t bother answering Jed, but he continued on: “David is a shaman, but he does not know it yet. He is able to do things that he does not understand.”

  “Like
a natural ability,” Esmerelda said, trying to help Billy with his explanation. “He’s a natural shaman, but he doesn’t quite know how to use those powers yet.”

  Billy nodded. “Yes. There is always a balance between the dark and the light. When there is something evil and powerful, like the Ancient Enemy, there is always something to . . . to fight back.”

  “And the boy can fight back,” Sanchez said.

  Billy frowned. “It is not so simple.”

  “How about this?” Moody said, eyeing David for a moment. “Maybe that boy’s in league with the devil out there. You ever think of that? Maybe that’s the devil and his demons out there, and that boy is part of it.”

  “If that was true, we would already be dead,” Billy said.

  Moody sat back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. He blew out a frustrated sigh.

  Esmerelda stared at Moody. “Suddenly you’re religious? Suddenly you believe in God and the devil?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  “So, that thing out there needs us to kill David for it,” Jed said, getting back to his point.

  David moved closer to Esmerelda like he was suddenly wary of everyone else in the room. She put her arm around him.

  “We’re not going to do that, David,” Jed assured him. “But we need to talk about this. We need to understand what’s going on. Okay?”

  David barely nodded.

  Jed’s throat closed up with emotion as he thought of what David must’ve already gone through. He tried to spit the next words out, but he choked up a little. “It . . . that thing out there . . . it might have tried to get David’s ma and pa to kill him. Maybe his own brother, too. And when they wouldn’t kill him . . .” Jed let his words trail off, wondering again what horrors David had already seen. No wonder the boy hardly ever spoke, he was traumatized by what he’d already seen inside his own home.

  “If all of this is true,” Moody said, “then why did it kill everyone else in town? Why not keep a lot of them alive so they can kill David for it? More people, more chances to kill the boy.”

  “Because it only needs one of us,” Billy explained. “And it needs us to be so frightened that we will do anything it asks of us. Even kill a boy.”

  “It drove you here,” Esmerelda said, looking right at Jed. “First it drove you to David’s house, and then it drove you here to this town.”

  Jed was about to argue with Esmerelda, but then he thought back to the morning they had captured Red Moon. He thought back to when they had been about to enter the woods. He had wanted to take a shortcut through the woods that morning, but why? Why had it been so important that he travel through the woods just to save a day or two of traveling? He’d told himself at the time that he wanted to get back to Smith Junction as quickly as possible and collect the bounty. He wanted to get back to his place before winter set in.

  But what had been the hurry? He didn’t have anything to go back to. Clara had been dead five years now. He had no wife, no children. His small ranch was a disaster, and if it weren’t for Chavez helping him out, all of his horses and cattle would probably be dead by now.

  So what had been his hurry to go through those woods?

  Red Moon had tried to warn him not to go into those woods. As soon as they were inside the woods, Jed had known something was wrong—he knew they were being watched, being followed, yet he hadn’t turned around while they still had the chance. He’d known deep down that there was something terrible waiting in those woods, but he hadn’t believed it, chalking his fears up to Red Moon’s mumbo jumbo or Red Moon’s gang trying to rescue him.

  A wave of guilt washed over Jed. He’d gotten Roscoe and the Dobbs boy killed. He should’ve known better, he should’ve trusted his instincts.

  “If it drove me here,” Jed finally answered Esmerelda, “if I didn’t have any control over what I was doing, then that’s a frightening thought.”

  “You have control, but you also do not,” Billy said.

  “More Injun nonsense,” Moody muttered as he poured himself another drink.

  Jed ignored Moody and looked at Billy.

  Esmerelda turned her attention to Sanchez. “You were drawn here, too.”

  Sanchez shook his head. “No, señora. I came here because I saw the sandstorm on the horizon.”

  “The Darkwind,” Billy said.

  “You were diverted here,” Esmerelda told Sanchez. “You were drawn here because you’ve killed before.”

  “That was self-defense,” Sanchez said.

  “But you’ve still killed, and the Ancient Enemy wants people who have killed before.”

  “Like me,” Jed said.

  “But not all of us,” Moody snapped. “I’ve never killed a man.”

  “But you could,” Jed argued.

  Moody smirked. “You don’t know me, marshal. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know you were willing to shoot Sanchez with your shotgun earlier,” Jed told him. “You were willing to take his tongue.”

  Moody looked away.

  “You were also willing to take Karl’s tongue while he was still alive.”

  Moody still looked away, not bothering to respond to Jed.

  Jed looked back at Esmerelda. “If the Ancient Enemy needed a killer to kill David, then why not just send Red Moon instead of me?”

  “I don’t know,” Esmerelda answered. “Maybe the Ancient Enemy was afraid Red Moon would kill himself too quickly.”

  They looked at Billy for an answer.

  “Could be that David has something to do with it,” Billy told them. “The Ancient Enemy can only push so much against David’s pull.”

  “So you’re saying David has a choice in who comes here?” Jed asked.

  “No,” Billy said. He seemed to be getting frustrated, like he was having trouble expressing what he wanted to say in English. “A force works through David, a bigger and stronger force. It works with David, but it also works through David at the same time.”

  “Like God,” Esmerelda said.

  Jed felt that Esmerelda understood what Billy was trying to say better than he did.

  “We make our own decisions,” Esmerelda continued. “But at the same time God works through all of us.”

  Jed looked at David to see if he was following the conversation, but David didn’t even seem to be listening. David had pulled away from Esmerelda, staring at the saloon doors.

  Jed turned towards the doors where the sharp afternoon light was coming through the windows around the shades and curtains. He looked back at David. “Is he out there now?”

  David nodded.

  CHAPTER 30

  Jed could hear the pastor calling them now.

  All of them got up from the table together, all of them walking towards the saloon doors.

  Jed drew his Colt. Sanchez had his guns belted around his waist, both of them slung low; he was tense, ready to draw. Billy had Karl’s pistol tucked into his belt and he was holding Moody’s shotgun, which he had reloaded with two more shells. Jed had gotten another box of shells from Moody’s office and gave them to Billy earlier. Jed wasn’t giving the shotgun back to Moody—he couldn’t trust the saloon owner with it now.

  “We all go out there together,” Jed said as they gathered in front of the saloon doors. “We keep David close to us, and we all stay together.”

  Esmerelda kept her arm around David’s shoulders.

  Jed opened one door, and Sanchez opened the other one. They all stepped out onto the wooden walkway underneath the porch roof of the saloon.

  The pastor stood in the same spot in the street, fifteen feet away from the saloon’s walkway. There was nobody else around, only the pastor. A cold breeze blew down through the middle of the town and the sky was so blue above the buildings beyond the pastor. The sun was getting lower in the west, the shadows lengthening along the buildings.

  “I’ve been calling you,” the pastor said with that strange smile on his face. His eyes were just dea
d shadows beneath the brim of his black hat.

  Jed looked at the edge of the walkway where they had left Karl’s body. It was gone now, and there were only a few smears of blood left behind on the floorboards.

  “He warned you that bad things would happen if you didn’t give him what he wanted,” the pastor said.

  “We know what he wants,” Jed yelled at the pastor. “We’re not giving it to him.” He shifted his eyes to the left and then to the right, waiting for dozens of the dead to stumble out of the buildings from across the street.

  The pastor stood still for a long moment, like he was deep in thought, his head slightly cocked like he was listening to something they couldn’t hear. His smile slipped into a deep frown. “Kill the boy,” he said in a deep, guttural voice. “Kill the boy and he will let all of you live. All of this will be over. He will let you live. He will let you leave. He will let you stay so you can rebuild your town.”

  “You swear that’s the truth?” Moody yelled at the pastor with a hopeful look in his eyes.

  “He’s lying,” Esmerelda whispered to Moody, but her eyes shifted to Jed to make sure he understood her. She still held David around his shoulders.

  “You have until sunup tomorrow,” the pastor said. “Make your decision or more bad things will happen. Things you won’t believe. Things you can’t even imagine.”

  The pastor turned and walked away, heading back towards the church.

  Sanchez caressed the handles of his pistols, ready to draw.

  “Don’t bother,” Jed told him. “He’s already dead. Won’t make a difference.”

  They all went back inside and closed the saloon doors. Jed locked them and shoved the table legs under the door handles as a brace.

  They all sat back down at the table.

  “We need to talk about it,” Moody said after downing another drink.

  “Talk about what?” Jed asked him even though he knew perfectly well what he was referencing.

  “If all that thing out there wants is the boy,” Moody held his hands up, “which is not what I’m suggesting we do, then he said he would let the rest of us live.”