It’s now or never! Using the rock, Holliday pushed himself up, making his way up the trail as fast as he could.
Not giving quarter, Roberts leapt at the fallen man, but the guard pushed him back using the strength of his legs, unbalancing the marshal and forcing him back. The guard brought his rifle to bear, aiming at the marshal’s chest.
Roberts recovered quickly and speared his saber toward the man’s throat. By luck, the blow was deflected by the prone man’s rifle and the blade buried itself harmlessly into the ground. The guard followed up by smashing his rifle stock into the side of Roberts’ face. The old marshal’s head whipped back and he dropped to his knees, his vision full of stars.
Springing to his feet, the guard raised his rifle stock above Roberts’ head as he tried to stand. Without mercy, the man struck Roberts and the marshal dropped like a stone. The man cycled the rifle’s lever and aimed at Roberts’ back—at that range there was no way he could miss.
No you don’t!
BOOOM!
Holliday fired his revolver, but the bullet missed its intended target by several yards—ricocheting off the rocks above the mine entrance.
Hell!
Moving closer and with the gunshot still ringing in his ears, Holliday staggered forward, thumbing back his Schofield’s hammer. He fired again, and again the shot went wild. But now he had the guard’s attention. The man crouched low and returned fire—his bullet whizzing over Holliday’s head.
I have to get closer.
Cocking his revolver, Holliday moved forward, weaving as best as he could. In his current condition, it was impossible for him to hit anything at that distance. He needed to be closer, or get lucky.
The guard fired from the hip and the bullet smashed into Holliday’s shoulder, driving him off his feet and onto his back.
Ooof!
Holliday laid motionless, pain scorching through his shoulder and into his neck, threatening to overcome his senses. His sight blurred, turning the world into dark shapes and bright lights. He blinked and gradually his vision started to clear, only to reveal the grinning face of the guard standing over him.
The sound of a cocking rifle drove home the fact this was turning out to be a very unlucky day for him. He tensed, anticipating what was to come.
Some you win, some you lose…
The guard leveled his gun at Holliday. Suddenly, the man went rigid as a foot of steel appeared in the center of his chest. He stared at the object in disbelief, his mind not sure what was happening. Below the blade, the man’s shirt turned dark as blood ran down his chest.
Like an avenging angel, Roberts appeared behind the surprised man and gripping his shoulder, withdrew the sword with a twist of his wrist. The guard’s mouth moved as though he was trying to say something and a moment later he crumpled silently. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“You are hard man to keep down, Marshal,” said Holliday through clenched teeth.
“It’s an occupational requirement,” said Roberts, bending down to clean his bloody sword on the fallen man’s shirt. He straightened and sheathed his weapon, before seeming to notice Holliday lying on the ground. “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s fine,” the gambler lied. “Fighting demons, walking across the open desert and being shot is all part of being a professional gambler. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.” Holliday tried to smile, but pain shot along his shoulder and he winced instead.
Roberts crouched beside Holliday and peeled the gambler’s coat and shirt off his shoulder. He probed roughly around the bullet wound and it was only the gambler’s pride that kept him from making a sound.
“The bullet went straight through,” mumbled Roberts, glancing up into the western sky. The sun was very low now. “You’ll live.” He tore a strip of cloth from the dead man and placed it under Holliday’s shirt, then wrapped another strip over his shoulder and tied it off as a temporary bandage. Satisfied with his workmanship, he grabbed Holliday under the arms and dragged the injured dentist like a bag of potatoes toward the mine entrance, where he laid him in the shade of a large rock.
“Thank you, Marshal,” said Holliday, licking his lips. “Is there any water? I feel suddenly thirsty.”
The flat area before the mine was only about ten square yards. A dark tunnel went straight back into the hill’s side and was about the height of a man and was reinforced with thick timber beams. Roberts moved across the area, but there was no sign of any water. He told Holliday as much.
“And here I was thinking I would die with a whisky in one hand and a Royal Flush in the other. Instead I will die of thirst, bleeding out in this god forsaken land...fate has dealt me a poor hand today.”
“I’ll let you die in peace then,” said Roberts, moving toward the mine. “I’m going to find Garrett.”
“And Kate.”
“Yeah.”
“Remember your promise, Marshal. The drifter is mine.”
“I remember. But if the bastard tries to kill me, our agreement is off.”
“Sounds fair.”
Without another word, Roberts drew his saber and leaving Holliday lying against the rock, he strolled into the mine and was quickly swallowed up by its darkness.
Chapter 18
Holliday opened his eyes, confused for a moment until the ache in his shoulder reminded him where he was.
I must have blacked out.
Pain shot throughout his body as he rolled onto his elbow. Hell! He dropped onto his back, his head spinning. When the pain became a dull ache again he probed his shoulder; his fingers came away sticky with blood.
I have lost a lot of blood…but it looks like it has stopped bleeding.
The late afternoon air felt cooler and the surrounding rocks cast long shadows across the rough ground.
How long was I out for?
No more than an hour. He took a few deep breaths and then struggled into a sitting position as fast as his body allowed. He groaned. “Son of a…” he mumbled, tapping a clenched fist against his leg.
After the throbbing subsided, he grabbed his walking stick and pushed himself to his feet. Again, the pain flooded over him and he wavered on unsteady feet, but somehow, he remained standing. After a string of curses, the pain gradually reduced and his thoughts turned to the task ahead. He pulled his revolver. It was loaded. Roberts must have reloaded it and put it back in his holster.
“Thanks, Marshal,” he whispered, holstering the gun.
Leaning on his walking stick, Holliday hobbled to the mine entrance and after a quick look around, shuffled inside.
The mine’s roof was held up by rough-cut timber beams—they looked old and many had long splits running along their lengths. Holliday shuddered to think how many years they had stood holding up the earth above.
To be squashed like a bug.
The sunlight didn’t penetrate far into the mine shaft. After going only a dozen yards, it was pitch black and Holliday couldn’t see a thing. He leaned against the wall, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. After minute, his breathing slowed and he listened. It was as silent as a tomb.
That has to be a good sign, right?
Pushing off, he took a cautious step forward, trying not to jar his shoulder wound. He hobbled forward, his progress slow over the uneven surface. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like he was heading downward.
In no time, sweat was dripping down his face and after travelling only a short distance, he stopped once again. Being baked by the sun and losing blood was proving to be too much. He was already exhausted. He needed to stop, to lie down and sleep, but this was not the time or place for rest.
You demon bastards will pay…
He gripped his walking stick tighter and with determination, he resumed walking.
After feeling his way with his walking stick for what seemed like an hour, Holliday came to a stop. Ahead was a soft yellow light in the sea of blackness. There was something unnatural about the light, it didn’t feel right.
I bet this isn’t the annual miners’ dance.
Leaning on his stick, Holliday drew one of his revolvers with an unsteady hand.
Let’s get this over with.
With the gun held out in front, Holliday crept cautiously forward. The light ahead was an odd color and didn’t flicker like a naked flame. He paused and after a minute or two of nothing happening, he decided to go on again. As he approached, it was obvious the light was radiating from a strange fungi growth that dotted the tunnel’s ceiling. The fungus grew out of the dirt in small clumps and was yellow in color. It created just enough light that he could make out his surroundings.
Well, I’ll be. If that’s not the weirdest thing.
The tunnel was now narrower than the mine’s entrance and the ceiling was low, standing just above Holliday’s hat. The air was thick with dust, so much so that he could taste it in his dry mouth. It agitated his throat when he drew in a breath and he resisted the urge to cough.
Farther along the tunnel, a larger concentration of the luminescent fungi covered the ceiling, generating a stronger light. It was enough to see several yards, revealing this part of the tunnel had a cave-in at some stage as the floor was covered in rubble.
Holliday stumbled over the debris and continued on down the tunnel. After twenty yards it branched off. This second passage was also narrow and its ceiling was the height of Holliday’s chest. It angled away from the main tunnel and he guessed it was heading deeper into the mesa. It too was illuminated by the yellow fungi.
There were deep gouges in the dirt around the entrance to this passage and they weren’t caused by picks or shovels. The marks appeared to have been made by enormous claws—
I hope it was just a massive prairie dog.
In the intersection, the dusty floor was covered with many boot prints. One print looked smaller than the others and Holliday hoped it was Kate’s.
But which way did she go?
He crouched to examine the ground and sucked in a breath when pain shot through his body. His fingertips traced along the small footprint’s edge and it crumbled under his touch. How long ago the prints were made, he couldn’t tell.
The old man makes this look easy.
He looked into the branching tunnel, hoping for another sign.
This side passage is not man-made. Which means there might be demons down there…and Kate.
Holliday stood and entered the second passage. Its low ceiling required him to bend over, forcing him to lean heavily on his stick as he walked. Each step sent pain coursing through his body and brought a curse to his lips. Determination to find Kate drove him on.
After a short distance there were four large chests lying stacked against the tunnel wall. They looked similar to the one the drifter took off the wagon. Holliday flipped the first chest lid. It was empty and a check of the other chests confirmed that they were empty as well. The Sky Rocks were gone.
The tunnel ended at a solid wall several yards past the chests. Before the wall was hole, a yard across and dropped vertically through the floor into blackness. Peering down, Holliday could see nothing, but there was a faint smell like a blacksmith’s forge wafting up the shaft from below.
What’s down there?
Curious, he picked up a stone and dropped it down the hole. It bounced of the shaft’s sides and quickly vanished from sight. He waited, but no sounds came up from below.
With no other option, Holliday turned and retraced his path back to the main tunnel and after a brief rest, he headed further into the mine in search of his friends.
Holliday stood at the edge of a precipice at the end of the main tunnel. It was a pit four yards in diameter which dropped down into pitch darkness. A large iron pulley was attached to the rock ceiling high above the pit’s center. A thick steel cable ran up from the darkness looped over the pulley and back down into the impenetrable gloom.
A lift?
There was no way of knowing the depth of the pit as the fungi didn’t grow on its vertical surfaces. Holliday leaned over the edge.
I guess there is a lift down there. But how to bring it up?
There was nothing around the pit to winch up the lift, in fact, there was nothing much in the tunnel except stone rubble and a few old timber support beams lying against the wall.
This is the only way Roberts could have gone.
Near exhaustion, Holliday dropped down near the pit and leaned against the rough wall. His limbs felt heavy and he knew he couldn’t stand for much longer without falling over. The blood loss and dehydration was finally taking its toll. He drew one knee up and his head sunk to his chest. Before he knew it, he had passed out.
A metallic groan raised Holliday from his slumber and he woke coughing. Quickly, he covered his mouth with a hand and tried to stop his spasm.
What’s that?
The steel cable slowly slid over the pulley, which squeaked and groaned as it rotated. The lift was being raised from below.
It might be Roberts…
In Holiday’s current condition it was wise to verify if the lift users were friend or foe. He needed to take cover. Using the wall, he pushed himself to his feet and stood on unsteady feet. The dim yellow light from the fungi revealed nothing large enough for him to hide behind. As soon as the lift rose above the floor level, its operators would see him for sure.
The side passage!
Hobbling back down the tunnel, Holliday made his way toward the side passage containing the chests. As he entered the smaller passage, the lift or whatever it was came to a clanking hold, the sound echoing along the passage. Holliday chanced a glance over his shoulder before slipping into the smaller tunnel. Two shapes emerged out of the gloom, heading Holliday’s way. One was man-sized and the other was much bigger and broader than any man he had ever seen. It looked like a long-armed, hairless ape.
“Kate, what have we gotten ourselves into?” he muttered as he ducked into the side passage, pressing himself up against the rough wall.
Seconds later the pair passed by his hiding spot, heading for the mine entrance. One was the drifter in human form and the other…Holliday wasn’t quite sure who or what it was. The thing was about six feet tall, heavy-set and hunched over. Its hairless skin was lumpy and pale grey in color. On top of its broad shoulders was a large melon-sized head with two straight horns sprouting from it. The horns looked tiny on the massive beast, but still, they scraped along the tunnel’s ceiling as it ambled along. The two demons didn’t notice the dentist and continued past.
They will discover the dead guards. It’s time to act.
Holliday waited a minute then re-entered the main tunnel, moving toward the pit as swiftly as his injuries allowed. Hovering over the dark pit and level with the tunnel floor was an iron-caged contraption suspended from the cable. One end of the cable was anchored to one side of the cage and the other end was spooled onto a small drum attached on the opposite side. There were several steel gears and a short handle sticking out from the drum—it was some sort of winching mechanism.
Cursing, Holliday stepped into the small cage and it swung away from the edge of the pit. He gripped the bars with white knuckles as it rocked back and forth several times before gradually coming to a stop. After studying the winch mechanism, he released a latch and rotated the handle. The lift jerked downward.
“Yeah, this isn’t dangerous,” he muttered.
With each rotation of the handle, the lift lurched downward and Holliday’s heart leapt into his mouth. Keep going, he told himself as he turned the handle again. After several more rotations, the cage was lower than the tunnel floor level and swinging from side to side. It descended quickly and a minute later, he had traveled a fair distance below the tunnel.
Maybe I’ll survive this thing after all—
“Hey!” yelled someone from above. “Bring the lift back up here.”
Above, a silhouette of a man wearing a broad-brimmed hat appeared at the edge of the pit and gazed down at Holliday. No doubt, i
t was the drifter. After a moment, the drifter pulled back and disappeared, but was replaced with a hulking shape that stretched out a thick arm and grabbed the steel cable holding the lift. The lift and Holliday swung wildly as the creature shook the cable, sending it smashing into the walls and showering the gambler in dirt.
Hell!
Holliday drew a revolver and aimed at the drifter’s companion. But the lift shook, unbalancing him and sending him crashing into its side. He barely kept inside the lift and only a lucky grab of the winch handle stopped him from plummeting to his death. Unfortunately, his gun slipped from his fingers and clanked onto the metal floor, where it skidded to a stop just at the edge. Cursing, Holliday reached down for his gun, but the cage shook again and his Schofield jumped into the air and disappeared into the darkness below.
No!
The cage swung violently again—the demon had started climbing down the cable toward him. Holliday drew his second revolver, cocked and fired it at the creature, the shot sounding loud in the confines of the pit. The demon kept descending down the cable.
“How did that miss?” Steadying himself against the lift’s frame, Holliday took aim again. “I got you this time, you son of a bitch.”
But the cage rocked just as he squeezed the trigger and the bullet struck the wall harmlessly over the creature’s left shoulder. The grey monstrosity roared in rage, shaking the cable violently and sending the lift bouncing off the walls. The impact jarred Holliday’s body and he dropped his revolver as he held on with both hands. For a brief moment he glimpsed his second gun sailing through the air and dropping out of sight.
You have to be joking!
The creature was almost on him, prompting Holliday to start winding the mechanism’s handle with renewed vigor. He needed to put some distance between him and the demon, or reach the bottom so he could fight on solid ground, not that he had much fight left in him.
A second later, the demon dropped inside the lift and roared in Holliday’s face, its breath smelled like decay. Holliday went for his sword, drawing several inches of blade before a large, meaty fist smashed into his jaw, lifting him off his feet. His head whipped around and he catapulted over the side and for a moment, it felt like he was floating on air before gravity caught up and he plummeted downward. The wind whistle past his ears and he knew his death was imminent.
Doc Holliday_The Sky Fire Chronicles Page 13