I have failed…
The demon bellowed in frustration as Holliday fell out of its reach and disappeared into the darkness below.
Chapter 19
Billie reined in her horse and the wagon rolled to a stop. She removed her hat and wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. This old hat was her father’s, the only thing she still had of his. She ran her fingers lightly across the worn leather and she imagined a man she had never known and never would. He was dead. How, her mother wouldn’t say. By her accounts, he was a bad man, a man not worthy of remembering.
This world is full of bad things, Billie thought. Not all of them demons.
She put on her father’s hat and glanced up at the sun. It was low in the sky which made her heart sink just a little more. It was almost dark and she knew what that meant.
Demons.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered slightly, trying to keep her fear at bay. Only a few weeks ago, she didn’t believe in demons and now they plagued her thoughts night and day. She imagined evil eyes watching her from the shadows or peering at her as she passed by.
Am I dead? she wondered. Or injured like mom and lying somewhere in a coma? She glanced through the canvas flap behind the driver’s seat at Catherine, lying motionless in the back of the wagon. No. I think I’m awake.
Billie looped the reins around the brake lever and climbed into the back of the wagon. Kneeling beside her mother, she whooshed aside a fly and studied Catherine’s sleeping face.
Is she breathing?
Removing her hat, Billie placed a cheek over her mother’s mouth, feeling her faint breath.
She’s still alive.
Billie straightened, her eyes measuring the red twisting veins running from under Catherine’s blouse, up her neck and along her pale cheek.
Are the veins longer? I’m not sure…I can’t remember.
Billie stretched out a hand—it was shaking—and touched her mother’s forehead. Despite the heat of the day, her skin was cool.
Why did this happen to her? She’s a good person.
Grabbing a canteen, Billie carefully opened Catherine’s mouth and tipped in a few drops of water. There was no reaction. Catherine didn’t move. She was like a corpse.
I won’t let you die, Mom.
Billie gave her mother a few more drops before she drunk a mouthful of the warm water herself.
“Don’t worry,” she said, replacing the canteen’s lid. “The doctor in Tombstone will help you. He must.”
Her eyes started to water and she wiped them before the tears fell. There was no time for crying. She removed her hat, bent down and lightly kissed her mother’s forehead.
Rest, Mom.
They had to keep moving.
It would be night soon.
Leaving her mother, Billie climbed back out through the canvas flap and onto the driver’s seat. She grabbed the reins and gave them a quick flick. The horse responded sluggishly, plodding forward without any enthusiasm.
The terrain started rolling past and Billie’s thoughts turned inward. The realization that her mother may die was real and at that moment, overwhelming.
I’m still a child, and everyone I’ve ever loved is dead or dying…I don’t want to be alone in this world! Mom, I need you.
Chapter 20
The wind whistled past Holliday’s ears. He was surprised how light his fatigued limbs felt and how clear his mind was as he dropped head first down the mine shaft. He glanced up, marveling at how small the lift looked from underneath.
Fascinating.
The heavy-set demon leapt off the lift and onto the wall. Its black talons dug deep into the dirt like massive anchors as it scrambled down the mine shaft head first. It chased after Holliday, like an oversized spider.
Time slowed around Holliday as he fell—an illusion of those near death. Looking down into the blackness, he couldn’t see but he knew the ground was rocketing toward him.
How fitting…I am falling from God’s grace.
His mind raced, then an image flashed before his eyes—his face, smashed and unrecognizable, his body crumpled and mangled.
Kate, you won’t love me soon.
Above, a howl echoed down the shaft as the distance between predator and prey lengthened. The demon was becoming frustrated and this amused Holliday. His smile turned into a grin as a familiar tingling seeped into the gambler’s muscles. Then, he started chuckling, laughing like a madman as he fell.
Outside the sun was dipping below the horizon. Night was here at last.
In the space of a heartbeat, strength flowed to Holliday’s weary muscles and his senses sharpened, giving him heightened awareness. Mid-air, he twisted his body agilely so he fell feet first. Bending his knees, he braced for the coming impact.
Suddenly, Holliday’s feet struck the hard ground and a shockwave smashed through his entire body. His legs buckled and he squatted, but he didn’t collapse. He held his arms out wide, keeping his balance. Slowly he straightened, his sight searching the darkness above for the creature that followed.
Just in time, my old friend. What would I do without you? Probably die…often.
A manic grin touched Holliday’s lips, exposing his perfect white teeth to the darkness.
“Oh, how I love the night,” he whispered.
He removed his glasses, tucking them into his coat pocket for safe keeping and then drew his thin-bladed sword. It made a low hiss, inaudible to all but him as it cleared the walking stick scabbard.
“Come on, you bastards,” he challenged.
There was a thud off to his left and he spun, blade at the ready. Scanning the darkness, he searched for the smallest movement and listened for the faintest sound. The bottom of the mine shaft was too dark for any human to see, but Holliday’s mutant eyes could distinguish some shapes and shades. All of his predatory senses were heightened.
“Hey, you ugly spider. I’ll be your fly.”
In a blink of an eye, Holliday stepped to the side and felt the whoosh of air as deadly talons slashed the spot where he was standing.
So you can see in the dark. This will be interesting.
The gambler weaved a deadly arc with his sword and danced back from the hulking form looming over him. Again, massive clawed hands raked the air in its quest to kill him.
Perhaps its sight is not that good after all. There’s plenty of firelight in hell, demon. I’ll send you there!
The demon lumbered forward, grabbing at where it thought Holliday was, but it only grasped air. The gambler flicked his sword and the blade bit deep into solid flesh, rewarding Holliday with a demonic cry of pain. The creature came in hard and each time Holliday moved out of its reach, nicking it with his sword point. Halting, the demon roared. It panted as it listened for the stinging fly.
Holliday paced like a caged cat, moving around to the demon’s side when suddenly, the monster sprang forward, its arms out wide. It leapt in Holliday’s direction and the gambler jumped aside—too late! The much larger demon clipped Holliday’s shoulder by chance as it passed by. The impact catapulted the thin man into the air and he flew through the darkness until he stopped abruptly, crashing into an unseen mining cart. He crumpled to the ground.
What hit me?
Holliday’s head spun and he looked up just in time to see a black shape towering over the top of him.
My sword!
It was gone.
A massive clawed hand grabbed Holliday by the coat and the material tore as the demon dragged him off his feet. Forced to stand on his tip toes, Holliday stared into the demon’s face and was thankful for the darkness as it obscured most of the creature’s hideous features. The enraged creature issued a long scream, spraying him in putrid-smelling spittle.
Argh!
The monster lifted him up, his feet dangling in the air. He fought back, grabbing the demon’s thick wrist and twisting, but he was unable to break its vice-like grip. It was too strong. A deep chuckle rose up the demon’s a
lien throat. It knew the fly was defeated.
A fist as hard as stone smashed into Holliday’s chin, filling his sight with bright lights and sending his sensors spinning. His hearing buzzed as he tried to lift his head, but before he recovered the demon pounded him gain.
“Oof!”
Holliday’s head snapped back, and then flopped forward. Hanging limp from the demon’s claw, the monster struck him again. This time, Holliday’s coat ripped and he went flying over the mine cart, coming to a sliding stop several yards away. The demon’s fist was as hard as a blacksmith’s hammer and he couldn’t take much more. His mutant gifts gave him unbelievably fast healing, but he was not immortal.
Get up!
Groggily, Holliday stood, but something warned him and he ducked as the mine cart hurdled over his head and smashed against the wall behind him, showering him in timber shrapnel.
Hell!
Through the gloom, Holliday could make out the outline of what he hoped was his sword. He leapt for the weapon, but the demon heard him and moved to bar his way. It held its arms out wide and to avoid its searching claws, Holliday slid under the demon and quickly regained his feet. Without stopping, he scrambled across the ground to where he hoped his sword was. Quickly, he scooped up the object.
It was his sword.
Instantly Holliday spun, slashing out at the demon, slicing flesh and spilling black blood. The demon howled, turning fast despite its bulky size and lashed out wildly. Razor-sharp claws raked Holliday’s face, opening his cheek to the bone.
Grimacing, Holliday stepped forward and thrust his sword at the demon’s face. The blow hit low and several inches of steel disappeared into the demon’s shoulder. Ducking under a misaimed claw, Holliday withdrew his blade and then drove it into the demon’s stomach. Then faster than humanly possible, he withdrew his sword and pierced the creature’s body, again and again. The demon howled in pain as blood poured from multiple stab wounds. It swiped wildly at Holliday, but he danced nimbly out of its reach.
Deftly, the gambler leapt into the air, slashing his blade across the demon’s neck and cutting its flesh to its spine. Black blood gushed like a waterfall as it clutched hopelessly at its wound. Dropping to its knees, the demon tried to cry out, but it only produced a strange gargling noise and coughed up more foul-smelling blood. Moments later, the creature glanced skyward and then, fell flat onto its face. It was dead.
Producing a handkerchief, Holliday stepped back from an expanding pool of dark blood and dabbed his cheek. Already, his torn flesh had started to mend.
Chapter 21
By luck, Pat and the young girl escaped the bushwhackers prior to dawn, and then followed them at a safe distance to a steep mesa. They watched as the men entered an old mine halfway up a steep cliff. The mine entrance and the approach were guarded by two gunmen. Following further would be suicide so they searched further afield. By chance, Pat noticed a small opening higher up the bare cliff face and the pair scrambled up for a closer look, only to discover it was a narrow, naturally-formed cave. Pat squeezed just inside the opening for a closer look, but the young girl, who still hadn’t uttered a word, was too scared to follow and shook her head, fear written across her dirty features. No persuading could convince the child to enter the cave. With no other recourse, Pat guided her down to a thick clump of thorny bushes at ground level and told her to stay put.
Pat smoothed the girl’s wayward hair in what she hoped was a motherly way. Then, giving the child a brief smile, she headed back up the slope. When she finally reached the cave opening, Pat glanced back down at the girl, who was watching intently from her cover.
God, watch over her, she prayed silently, and keep her safe until I return.
Pat turned to the cave entrance and hesitated. Going underground conjured up bad memories, of watchful eyes in the dark and demons chasing her through subterranean passages. Her journey into the southern wasteland had been a harrowing experience, affecting her more than she wanted, or was willing to admit. She knew firsthand about demons now and had witnessed their magic, and had seen a Hell Gate—a demonic entry point into our world for the denizens of hell. By fate or luck, only four of them made it out of that evil labyrinth alive. The rest of her companions weren’t so lucky. They perished in that desolate wasteland, eaten by God only knows what.
Drawing her revolver, Pat squeezed through the cave mouth. The cave was narrow and the ceiling low, forcing Pat to stoop as she moved deeper inside. After a few yards, the ceiling reduced to only a yard high and was little more than half a yard wide. To continue, she would have to get down on all fours and crawl.
Oh, great. I’ll be eye to eye with any snake hiding in here.
Begrudgingly, Pat holstered her gun and got down on her hands and knees. “How did I get myself into this?” she muttered.
Crawling through the cramped passage was painfully slow, more so with Pat’s desire to stop frequently and listen to her dark surroundings. She needed to know if there was anything else in the tunnel with her, not that she could do much if there was. Each time she paused, the only sound in the ghostly silence was her own labored breathing.
Just managing to keep her uneasy feelings in check, Pat crawled onward a little quicker. Sometime later, it dawned on her that this passage was dead straight and there were no side branches off it.
If this isn’t a natural tunnel, she thought. Who or what made it?
Some distance later the tunnel narrowed and she was now concerned she could get stuck if she went any further. She crawled on, but an irrational fear started to form inside her.
Will I be trapped in here forever? And never see the sun again?
For a moment it felt like the walls were pressing in on her and she wanted to scream. Her breathing increased and her limbs stiffened to where she froze and stopped moving. Slowly, her will to go on waned and she pressed up against the wall.
No, it’s just my imagination. Nothing more.
After several long minutes, her breathing slowed and she calmed down, her rational mind returning.
I have to keep a grip. Should I go back?
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face and she wiped it with a dirt-covered hand. It was hot in the narrow tunnel and a thirst clawed at her dry throat. Each breath tasted like dust, drying out her mouth and nose.
It’s safer if I go back.
Her shirt was heavy with sweat, clinging wetly to her back.
What would Roberts do? she wondered, stretching out her stiff limbs—a difficult task in the confined quarters.
No, I’ve come too far…I better keep moving.
Pat pushed off the wall and resumed crawling. And not for the last time, she wondered if she had made the right decision.
Pat blinked. In the distance was a faint light. Daylight? With caution, she crept forward as quiet as she could, wincing each time she made a sound. In the dark, the smallest dislodged stone sounded like an avalanche.
Several minutes later, the tunnel ended at a solid wall. At floor level, a beam of light streamed through a hole the size of her fist. Excited to see light again, Pat lay on her stomach and peered through the hole. Beyond her cramped crawl space was a tunnel big enough to stand upright in and was at least two yards wide. The light appeared to be generated by strange yellow fungi which grew in patches across the tunnel’s ceiling. Pat had seen these fungi before, in the demon warren that contained a Hell Gate.
Yeah, there are demons here all right.
Pat pulled back from the hole, uncertain what to do next, but her choices were limited. Either try to dig her way into this new tunnel or go back the way she came. The thought of backtracking and crawling through the narrow tunnel convinced her she really only had one choice.
Pat removed a knife from her belt and started chipping away at the hole’s edges. The wall wasn’t thick and the soil came away easily. After only a few minutes she had widened the opening large enough for her to crawl through. Exhausted, she lay back against the tunnel w
all. She knew what was living in here and hopefully, they wouldn’t eat her before she found Kate and got out.
After only a brief rest, she poked an arm and then her head through the hole. Wriggling, she squeezed herself through the wall and dropped into the new tunnel, where she lay motionless for several seconds before slowly forcing herself to stand.
No time…I’ve got to keep going.
Pat looked one way and then the other, but the passage looked the same in both directions.
I’m not lost, she thought, pushing away the realization she was lost in a demon’s lair. Which way now?
With no idea of where she was, Pat picked a random direction and headed down the tunnel, praying it would lead to Kate.
The feeling of being watched plagued Pat as she traveled along the tunnel. Drawing her Colt quickly, she paused mid-step and glanced back the way she came. But there was nothing there, the tunnel was empty.
Just my imagination.
She resumed her journey and again, heard something. It sounded like a footstep.
Something is there.
Pat spun around, aiming her revolver back down the dimly-lit tunnel, but again it was empty. The air was ghostly still, as though the mine was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. She tensed, steeling herself for action.
If something is there, she thought, adjusting the grip on her revolver. Attack already.
A demonic howl shattered the silence, the sound vibrating along the tunnel. Pat jumped back in surprise and stumbled against the wall, her grip tightening on her gun.
That sounded close.
Time ticked by and Pat felt exposed standing in the open tunnel. She watched, but the yellow fungi didn’t create enough light to see far so if something nasty was coming her way, she wouldn’t see it until was almost on her. The howl was a terrifying reminder of where she was—not that she needed reminding. It was time to find somewhere less open and more defendable.
Doc Holliday_The Sky Fire Chronicles Page 14