Ben lay there all day. He watched the sun set, the stars twinkle into view and the crescent moon rise, as night took over the sky above him and made the horizon nonexistent. He did manage to move into the prairie grass, away from the trail, but his leg hurt him all to hell and he discovered a knot on his head as big as a goose egg. He swore to himself that if he survived this, he wasn’t ever robbin’ nothin’ and no one again.
Ben observed the immensity of the galaxy above him, and gave his predicament some thought. If someone came wandering down the trail in the mornin’, they’ll notice his head shot horse laying around drawing flies. They’d have no problem figuring out what happened and who he was, especially if it was a posse doin’ the lookin’ and the figurin’. Then there was the problem with his horse. Mountain lions roamed these parts. So did coyotes, wolves, and badgers. That horse would make an easy meal for a hungry critter, and so would he if that dead horse wasn’t enough to eat. No way he was scootin’ any farther than he had got with his leg all busted up like it was. Nope, Ben didn’t think he would see another sunrise.
A rattlesnake slithered across his chest, and Ben’s ass puckered so tight that he almost shit his insides. He watched the snake make his way through the prairie grass and toward the trail. When it was out of sight, he unpuckered his ass and exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holdin’. “Good bye you evil fucker.” Ben said to the snake, then he screamed when the snake came slitherin’ back, faster than a bullet.
Ben knew what spooked the snake. It was a horse cloppin’ down the trail. Somthin’ about that sound didn’t sit right with Ben. He’s heard stories about Indian gods snatchin’ soldiers out on the open plain, scalpin’ them and keeping them alive for personal slaves. He recalled rumors of lost settlers, or better put, their ghosts killin’ folks and makin’ them join their caravan to nowhere. What really scared him is what his pa told him. His pa said somewhere near the Kansas, Colorado border there was a canyon that led straight to hell. No man can see it, but when you get close, the smell of brimstone drifts toward ya and so do the screams of the damned. Ben was nowhere near the Kansas, Colorado border, but he did smell something on the breeze. And that evil cloppin’ made the goose egg on his head pound like a blacksmith on an anvil. He reached for his sidearm, it was gone, so he prayed to God, Jesus, and all his disciples, as the whiskey he had that mornin’ let loose moistening the dirt below him.
The horse cloppin’ stopped right in front of him. Ben lay quite as a field mouse, listening to the horse stomp and nicker. Then he heard the rider dismount and the ground rumbled underneath him making his shattered leg throb.
“I know you’re in there.” The rider called out. “What’s your name?”
In his bravest voice, Ben asked, “Who’s a callin’?”
“Jebediah Jones! Why you hidein’ in the grass?”
“I ain’t hidein’ sir! Just lamed up a bit and restin’!”
“I’m comin’ in! You ain’t gonna shoot me are ya?”
“Not ifin’ you gonna shoot me! Come in slow if you’re comin’!”
Jebediah did come in slow. Slow and thunderous. Ben regretted his invitation when he heard the crushing of the grass and the snapping of sticks as Jebediah made his approach. Ben wished he had his gun. Better to put a bullet in his brains than to find out what was stompin’ towards him through the grass.
Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled when Jebediah set his eyes on Ben. Or maybe eye would be a better description, because his left eye didn’t look functional. It was pure white. Might have been a cataract or some other ailment of the eye. Never the less it was eerie. So was Jebediah’s silhouette against the moon. Ben couldn’t make out his features, but the eye was prominent. It glowed.
“All right fella, what’s your name?” Jebediah asked.
Ben raised his shaking hand to his chapped lips and tried to keep them shut. It seemed as though Jebediah had put a hex on him. He was compelled to speak to this man, even though he didn’t want to. Ben couldn’t resist that white glowing eye, so against his better judgment, he spoke.
“Ben…Ben Salley. Why do you want to know?”
“I been on the trail a long time, and I got a long way to go. Gonna sit a spell and rest my horse. I need to know what to call ya if you’re gonna be my company.”
“That’s fine by me.” Ben replied.
Jebediah stomped down the grass around Ben. After he had enough space to hunker down, he went to the trail to retrieve his horse. The horse wasn’t the ungodly beast Ben’s imagination made it out to be. It looked like a normal horse, with a normal saddle, with a large burlap bag tide behind the saddle, which had a pair of boots sticking out of the open end.
“Jebediah, I don’t mean to pry, but what are you doing with that body on the end of your horse?”
Jebediah tied his horse to a small tree and replied, “That’s nothin’ for you to worry about Ben.”
Jebediah took off his duster, made a campfire, and drank from his canteen. Ben watched Jebediah’s Adams apple bounce with every thirst-quenching gulp, wishing he would offer him a drink. He never did, so he licked his dry, blistered lips and asked.
“Mind if I get a swig of that? I’m mighty thirsty.”
Jebediah looked him over and replied, “Ain’t gonna do you no good no how.”
“What do ya mean it ain’t gonna do me no good? I’m thirstier than a baby on a dry tit.”
“I ain’t explainin’ somethin’ you ought to know, but that bump on your head don’t look too good.”
Ben felt the bump on his head. He thought it might be the biggest bump a head had ever had. Then he looked down at his leg. He didn’t notice before, but his foot was laying in an unnatural direction. He tried to move it and couldn’t. His leg hurt, but nothing like before. Things weren’t right, out here on the open plains, lying here immobile with Jebediah for company.
“Why ain’t you tryin’ to help me? You see I’m all busted up! You ain’t tended to my leg, ain’t offern’ me no water, ain’t tryin’ to get me some help! You don’t need my company! You just come to watch me die!”
Jebediah took another swig from his canteen and said “Mayhap I have.”
The wolf howled somewhere on the distant plain. Coyotes yapped somewhere closer. Something growled on the trail in the spot Ben thought his horse lay dead with a headshot. He looked at Jebediah hoping he take notice of the threat near their campsite. Jebediah had no concerns. He continued to sip from his canteen, staring at the prairie grass, the trail, and beyond.
“Somethin’s eatin’ on my horse. It’s gonna come in here and eat on us if you don’t do somethin’ about it.”
“Nothin’s comin’ in here for dinner. Don’t you worry about that.”
Ben listened to the thing on the trail. It was scarier than Jebediah and his ghost cloppin’ horse. Growlin’, howlin’, and rootin’. When it reached Ben’s horse, it let out a blood-curling howl, and everything on the plains howled. Ben heard the thing chomp his horse, and he pissed his pants for the second time that day. He ain’t never heard a sound like that before. It sounded like his horse was being eaten by something huge. Something that didn’t need to rip and tear chunks of meat for consumption. It sounded like all the creature needed to do was bite, and whatever it bit was gone. In the mouth and down the throat. Gone.
Above him, something that resembled a bat, blocked out the stars when it flew overhead. The smell it left in its wake was putrid, making Ben dry heave. When the bat thing reached the horizon, its gigantic wings seemed to touch the moon, which hadn’t left the position it rose too. The only thing different, it was a half-moon now instead of a crescent.
After the bat things’ disappearance, the wind began to blow, bringing with it the sounds of critters of the like he’s never heard before. He thought about the thing that ate his horse and shuttered. The prairie grass rustled at his dismay.
“I don’t like your company Jebediah. You’re spooky, bringing all the who knows what out here
in no man’s land. If I’m gonna die, I don’t want you strappin’ me to your horse and takin’ me to some god forsaken place. Why don’t you pack up and get the hell out of here?”
“I’m restin’ my horse. Ain’t leavin’ ‘till he’s ready. Got a long way to go.”
“How far you goin’? Dodge City? Abilene?”
“Ain’t none of your business how far I’m goin’ Ben, unless you’re goin’ with me.”
Ben lay quite, listening to unfamiliar critters scurrying around their camp. Down deep he knew that the things out there were not from this earth, and given the chance they would come crashing through the grass and rip him apart. He also knew Jebediah wouldn’t give them that chance. So he lay busted legged, ass puckered, and literally scared shitless, wishing they would all go away, Jebediah included. Then he heard a familiar sound. A sound so hauntingly terrifying, it made him whimper like a whipped dog. A horse cloppin’ down the trail.
“Jeb…Jebediah. Someone’s comin’ down the trail.” Ben whispered.
Jebediah pushed his hat back and replied, “I hear ‘em.”
Just as before, the cloppin’ stopped right in front of Ben. The rider had a thunderous dismount. And he called out to the night.
“Who’s in there?”
Ben gathered his strength and asked, “Who’s a callin’?”
“Sheriff Carson! I’m lookin’ for a stagecoach robber! Would that be you?”
Ben felt relieved, rescued, and revived. He looked over to Jebediah. He was rolling a cigarette.
“That’d be me sheriff! I got to warn you, there’s another feller in here with me! He ain’t threatened me none, but he’s got a body on the back of his horse!”
“Alright! I’m comin’ in!”
The sheriff crashed through the prairie grass like a bull in a china shop. When he reached the clearing, he came to an abrupt stop when he seen Jebediah.
Jebediah touched the brim of his hat, “Sheriff.”
The sheriff did the same, “Jebediah.”
A stillness settled over the plains. Critters didn’t crawl, the wind didn’t blow, and the moon, now full, tilted on its axis. Ben watched the two men glare at each other in a silent duel for supremacy, neither of them speaking. Communicating only through their blink less stare. It was obvious they knew each other, and Ben hoped they would be on speaking terms real soon so the sheriff could get him out of this haunted prairie grass.
“Sheriff. I need a doctor. My leg is busted up real bad. I sure don’t want to lose it. Can we get on with the arresstin’ so I can get some help?”
The sheriff blinked, shook his head, removed his hat and wiped the sweat off his brow. He seemed relieved that the link between he and Jebediah was broken. He smiled at Ben, then went about his business of being sheriff.
“Are you Ben Salley?”
“Yes I am.”
“Ben Salley of Dirty Dan’s gang?”
“Yep.”
“Ben Salley, I’m placin’ you under arrest for murder.”
Ben thought about it for a moment and replied, “I didn’t kill nobody sheriff. Hell, my horse got headshot at the beginning of the robbery. What happened after I went down, I had no part of. I don’t feel I should be held accountable for what Dan and his gang done went and did.”
“Well all that will be sorted out later. As for right now you’re under arrest, and I’m taking you in.”
Truth be told, Ben didn’t care if he was being arrested for murder, cow relations, or spittin’ in the wind, he was glad that the sheriff was going to take him away from this hellish plains and the madness that came with it. Mostly, he needed to get away from Jebediah. He knew he was no man, and not safe to be around. Jebediah did help the sheriff drag him through the prairie grass, and load him on a buggy. The last thing Ben saw as they made their way down the trail was Jebediah’s glowing dead eye.
The buggy ride was ruff, making Ben’s leg scream with every bounce, but the pain was tolerable, and he was looking forward to a doctor and a cell. He looked up to the moon and wondered if it would look normal once he reached a town.
“Sheriff. How long till we get to Doge City?”
“Ain’t going there Ben.” Sheriff Carson replied.
“You ain’t takin’ me back to Doge City?”
“Nope.”
Ben rubbed his chin, thought about where he was, and asked “We going to Hanston?”
“Nope.”
“Spearville?”
“Nope.”
Ben was suspicious of Sheriff Carson. The sheriff seemed to share the same secretive attitude as Jebediah. He watched the moon’s slow rotation and the stars blink in and out of existence. He felt no pain in his leg or his head, but he was getting hotter with every rotation of the buggy wheels. He looked over at the prairie grass, and all the stalks were turning black.
“You ain’t taken me to a town are you sheriff?”
“I ain’t.”
“Where are we going then, the canyon?”
“Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no canyon. I’m taken you to the Perimeter where you’ll be bound over for trial. If found guilty, I’ll take you further.”
“You like Jebediah? Some sort of agent of the devil?”
The sheriff turned to Ben and let go of the reins to his horse. They stayed suspended in the air where he released them.
“Jebediah ain’t no agent of the devil, he’s a bounty hunter. He finds the lost and deserving, and takes them to the Farm. Like that stage coach driver he found you and your gang shot up.”
“I didn’t shoot nobody! I don’t deserve no trial, and sure as hell no damnation!”
Sheriff Carson turned back around and took the reins.
“Ain’t up to me Ben. I arrest the accused. No more, no less. The Perimeter ain’t so bad, it’s just hot. If you’re innocent, that’s where you’ll stay. If you’re guilty, I’ll take you further, and the heat will be the least of your worries.”
Ben lay back and watched the stars fade away and the moon spin itself out of existence. A blood red sun quickly rose to its apex, accompanied by a stiff, hot breeze that pushed them closer to their destination. The prairie grass gave way to desert sand and moving rocks indicating their arrival to the Perimeter. It was the hottest day Ben’s ever experienced, and he abandoned all hope of a partial judge and a fair trial.
THE END.
WESTERN ENDING by Daniel J. Kirk
She had heard already.
Sheriff Jake Williams had tried to pour the coffee himself, but Alice Hines insisted. Her hands shook as she set the pot down on the table. She followed it with a shaky spoon and a bowl of sugar.
“I know you said black was fine, but in case you change your mind. Marcus always liked his so strong.” Alice was not normally so fidgety and between straightening a pair of salt and peppershakers and twirling her wedding band she didn’t look like she could be calmed down.
Her eyes darted away from Jake as he took a sip of the steaming coffee. Alice Hines was normally very pretty but the nights wondering and worrying had taken a toll on her. But Jake thought she was still young enough to find joy again if she looked for it.
“Did they catch him?” she asked.
Jake waited for her eyes to circle back around the room and meet his.
“I will.”
Her eyes jerked away. Her hands trembled on the table until she reeled them up to her lips.
“What does it matter now?”
“Your husband was a good man,” Jake said. “But the law is the law and there ain’t going to be another way about it. The best he can do is come in easy and let the Judge take that into consideration.”
Alice’s sob nearly broke Jake’s old heart. Only he’d seen what Marcus Hines had done. He winced as he swallowed a big gulp of coffee. It was only slightly less bitter than the taste I’d already had in my mouth. Alice had been right. Marcus liked it strong. Jake felt like he had been punched in the back of the eyes and stood up to fight the man responsible. T
he stirring of his chair brought Alice’s eyes back to Jake and down to the gun in the holster around his waist.
He watched her as she stared at it, knew what it was capable of, like some fortune teller she must’ve seen her husband’s death as the silver plated revolver caught the candle light.
“Does it hurt?”
Jake lowered the cup of coffee he had no more intention to drink it, he would be up all night as it were. But he was done answering Alice’s questions. He was done breaking the news to her.
“If he comes around talk some sense into him. Plenty of people remember the man he was, plenty of people see why he done what he did.”
That did it. Alice erupted, she bawled over onto the table sending the bowl of sugar crashing to the floor. The coffee spilled back at Jake and stained his boots. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t comfort her so he turned and left.
***
Jake Williams rode into the night faster than his eyes adjusted from the candle lit cabin. He had left his deputy near the Hines’ homestead. Hoping Marcus lurked in the pasture waiting for Jake to leave. He’d told his deputy to shoot on sight. He only rode far enough to still hear the gun shot when it would echo. Jake might’ve been able to ride further but he couldn’t trust his ears this late in age.
Nor could he trust his horse, Stardust. She too needed to consider retirement when this was all said and done.
“Too many good men,” Jake told Stardust. She whinnied and snorted in agreement. He often wondered what she thought of him, if the other horses talked, or missed each other, if they thought of their children.
Jake should’ve been at home with his little girl. He’d left her sleeping, certain he’d be back before the sun broke, but now he wasn’t so sure. It must’ve just been the way the night air seemed empty that convinced Jake nothing good was going to come from finding Marcus Hines.
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