Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western

by Samantha Warren

  Jeremiah sat at the table, tired and confused. His mouth gaped as he watched the display of machismo. Hannah clapped her hands over her mouth as she came down the stairs and witnessed the strange scene. Abby backed up into the hall and placed herself between the men and her youngest sister. She longed for her own gun and her mind raced to decide who she would aim it at. Jeremiah was her top pick.

  Connor cocked the hammer back on his Peacemaker and took a step toward Jeremiah. Three more identical clicks echoed through the room. The men were locked and loaded. If any of them fired, it would be a bloodbath and no one would make it out of the house alive.

  "Hang on, hang on. Put the guns down. Let's talk about this." Doc Whitman rose from his seat on the other side of Jeremiah and walked across the room. He placed himself between the injured man and the sheriff with his hands raised defensively. His eyes were locked on Connor's.

  "He's a dead man, Jacob. You know it as well as I do. If we don't kill him now..." Connor let the words hang in the air like a stick of dynamite waiting to go off.

  "No one'll be shootin' my brother 'cept me." Jed stepped forward and pressed his gun against Connor's head, knocking the sheriff's hat onto the floor. Amos's trigger finger twitched, but he restrained himself. The ball was still in the sheriff's court and he didn't want to be the cause of an all-out war.

  "No one is going to be shooting anyone just yet. Let's talk about this." Doc Whitman reached his hand up slowly and wrapped his fingers around the barrel of McClane's gun. He put gentle pressure on it. Connor glared at him, but he let the gun be lowered. He did not uncock it.

  The doctor looked at Jed. "Now you."

  Jed pressed the gun harder into Connor's head, making the sheriff growl, but he eventually pulled it away. He lowered it to waist height and left it there, still pointed at the sheriff's back.

  The other two men lowered their guns and reset the hammers. Both were relieved that it hadn't come down to a shootout yet and they were more than willing to talk things through.

  Jasper put his gun into his holster and entered the kitchen after tossing a glance back toward the stairs. Hannah sat halfway up, her face as white as a sheet. He pressed his lips into a tight line. She had seen him pull a gun on someone. Not just anyone, but the sheriff and his deputy. He mentally kicked himself and hoped to God she would forgive him.

  He scooted around his older brothers and took the doctor's vacated chair on the other side of Jeremiah. Jeremiah's hands were shaking, so Jasper put his own hand on Jeremiah's bare arm. It was cold and clammy, like his mother's had been after she died. His heart sank into his stomach.

  He looked up at the sheriff. Connor was watching him with a sadness in his eyes. "What's going on?" Jasper asked. His voice hurt his throat as the question forced its way out. He didn't want to know the answer, but he needed it.

  Doc Whitman beckoned the Crawford girls in. Abby straightened her shoulders as she forced her way into the kitchen. She purposefully bumped into Jed with her shoulder, hard. He had no choice but to step aside as she and her sister walked into the room. Hannah brushed past Jasper and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before taking the seat further away from him. Abby settled herself into the chair between them.

  "Jed, put the gun away,” the doctor admonished the only outlaw that remained standing.

  Jed shot a look of death at the doctor. "Hell no. Ain't nobody threatens my brother."

  The doctor sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Just don't shoot anyone until we finish talking, okay?" He walked over to the table and propped himself on the corner next to Jeremiah. He turned his attention to the man with a grave look on his face. "The woman who bit you, you said she was sick, right? Gray skin, dull gray eyes?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "Well..." Doc Whitman paused and glanced at the girls. "A few men with a similar description attacked the Crawford farm a couple days ago. They killed Abe and Phyllis, and Madeleine. They got to Wyatt, too. He was bitten."

  Jeremiah flexed his fingers and winced at the pain radiating up his arm, into his shoulder and neck. "Like me?"

  "Yeah, like you. The wound festered and rotted in hours.” He paused. “It killed him, Jeremiah. He died on the table in there." Doc Whitman glanced at Connor before continuing. The sheriff nodded. The doctor cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Then he came back."

  Jed took a step forward, putting himself part way between the sheriff and his brother. His eyebrows knit as he eyed the doctor. "What's that mean? How'd he come back?"

  Doc Whitman shrugged. "He came back to life. Only, it wasn't him. He was... different. His skin was gray, and his eyes were the eyes of the dead, dull, no light in them at all. He tried to bite Abby, but she got away from him.” Tears sprung to his eyes and he fought to keep them in check. “He got Eva, though. It was like he didn't even recognize her, his own fiancée. Tore a chunk of flesh from her neck and began eating like it was Christmas dinner... He was a monster." His voice faltered and he buried his face in his hands.

  Jed raised his gun again, pointing it straight at the doctor's face. "My brother ain't no monster."

  "Jed, put the gun down." Jeremiah's voice was weak and strained. His breathing was labored and his skin was even paler than it had been when they arrived. "He ain't lyin'. I can feel it comin'. I can feel it in me, eatin' me alive."

  The oldest Gaines brother lowered his gun and stared at Jeremiah. "No. You ain't a monster. No one's killing you. Not ever."

  Jeremiah opened his mouth and closed it. He had no answer. He knew what needed to be done, but hell if he wanted to die.

  "What if we promise to leave and not come back?" Jasper's hand still gripped Jeremiah's arm. He was sitting forward on his chair, pleading with the sheriff with puppydog eyes.

  The sheriff shook his head. "Not good enough. You might come back anyway. After he's turned."

  Jed latched onto Jasper's idea. "Nah, no, that's good. That's a good idea. We'll ride until we can't go no further. We won't ever come back here. Not to Lonesome Ridge. Not ever."

  Connor's lip twitched. Jed was a liar and a cheat. He wouldn't trust the man as far as he could throw him, but the sincerity in his voice was more than Connor had ever heard. Besides, the brothers were dead men if they stayed with Jeremiah.

  "Do it, Connor. Please." Doc Whitman pleaded with the sheriff. "Just let them go." He stood up and walked over to whisper in Connor's ear. "He won't last much longer. I'd rather he not be here when he turns. We can send out a party in a little while to track them."

  Connor glanced at the doctor. The man had a good point. "Very well. Go, before I change my mind."

  Jasper rose and helped Jeremiah get to his feet. His brother leaned on him as they shuffled toward the door.

  Connor watched the young man for a few seconds before he stepped up and gently gripped his arm. "You don't have to go, Jasper. You're welcome to stay here."

  Jasper's eyes went wide with hope, but they fell when Jed glared at him. "I..."

  "The Gaines brothers stay together, Jasper. Always. You're coming with us." Jed's voice was hard and held an unspoken threat, but Jeremiah shook his head.

  "No," Jeremiah said. His thick accent disappeared as he spoke. "Let him stay. He belongs here. He deserves a chance at a life we could never have.”

  Jed turned his baffled glare on Jeremiah. "No--"

  "Shut up, Jed. For once in your life, just leave it alone. Let the kid be. Let's go." Jeremiah leaned over to give Jasper a weak hug. "Good luck, little brother. Make Ma proud." Then he pulled away and hobbled out the door before anyone could stop him.

  Jed stared after his brother for a moment before turning to Jasper. "Yer dead to me. If we ever meet again, I'll kill ya." He stomped out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  Chapter 22

  Jasper walked to the window and leaned his head against the dusty glass. He watched with a heavy heart while Jed struggled to help Jeremiah mount his horse.

  Off to his right, Connor called out the d
oor to the pair. "Go around the back way. Don't go by the saloon. There's a crowd there and they know something ain't right. You don't want to be caught out there." His voice didn't carry a threat. He was warning the brothers, giving them a chance to get away before the inevitable happened.

  Jed didn't respond in any way, but he steered their horses toward the far end of town. As Jasper watched them leave, he felt someone come up beside him. Hannah placed her hands on the windowsill and gave him a small smile. He felt his lips twitch in return. It was the most he could muster.

  "I know what it's like," she whispered. "To lose someone, I mean."

  Jasper's eyes burned and he blinked rapidly. He forced a bigger smile and gripped her fingers gently. "Your pain is worse than mine. At least they're still alive."

  Hannah turned back toward the window. "Yeah," she said after a moment. The unspoken "not for long" hung in the air between them like a rain cloud.

  As Jed and Jeremiah disappeared from sight, Connor looked at Amos. "Follow them."

  Amos nodded once and left. He would take a route through the town on foot to make sure the men really did leave. And if they didn't... Jasper didn't want to think that far ahead.

  Connor placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You can stay with me at the jail. I have a spare room. You're welcome to it."

  "Thanks." Jasper chewed on his lip for a moment before bobbing his head toward the door. "Can I talk to you outside, sheriff?"

  Connor glanced at Hannah briefly. "Sure thing."

  Jasper gave the girl another quick smile before leaving the kitchen.

  The porches in the middle of town were all connected into a walkway, so Jasper followed it down a bit before leaning his elbows against the railing. The barber shop behind him was dark and quiet. Connor propped himself beside the young man and waited.

  Jasper watched the lights in the torches flicker for a bit before he spoke. "This is all so surreal. I feel like I'm in a dream."

  The sheriff pursed his lips. "Yep. I've been pinching myself for a couple days now. I don't seem to be waking up."

  "Ya know, I wouldn't have believed you about Wyatt if I hadn't seen the woman myself. We shot her half a dozen times between the three of us, and she was still on her feet. Hell, I shot her in the back. At least twice. She should have been crawling at the very least. I didn't even see any blood." Jasper barked a laugh that had not a trace of humor in it.

  Connor pressed his lips together as the young man stared out into the dark. He wasn't looking for a response, just a friendly ear. The sheriff waited for Jasper to continue, but he didn't. Connor cleared is throat.

  Finally Jasper spoke again. "What's going to happen to Jeremiah? You said Wyatt died and woke up again, as... as something else. But what?"

  "Well," Connor said as he readjusted his posture so he mimicked Jasper's. "Abby said Wyatt was bitten back at their ranch, around dinner. It took a few hours for them to get into town, so that timing would be about right. The bite was deep, a lot worse than Jeremiah's. He was missing a chunk of his leg. By the time they got here, he was weak and feverish. He could barely stay on the horse. The wound was rotting, just like Jeremiah's is. He died a short while after they arrived."

  "So he could be dead already. My brother could be one of those things." Jasper coughed to cover a sob that tried to force its way out. He blinked fiercely to clear the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

  "Maybe. But you gotta remember that Jeremiah is a lot bigger than Wyatt was. If it's poison, which is my guess, it could take longer. Your brother's a big boy. He could last a day or two, maybe." Connor bit his tongue. "Shit. Sorry Jasper. I know that's not helping. I wish I could tell you that they'll be fine, but I can't. This thing... I don't know what it is. I don't know how to stop it."

  The two men were quiet for awhile until Amos joined them. "They're gone," he said and propped his arms on the railing beside Connor.

  Jasper draped his head over the railing between his arms and placed his hands on the back of his head. Amos walked to the other side of him, and the three of them stood in silence until Doc Whitman came out a little later. The night was deep around the town and all the respectable folks had retired to their homes. The only activity was visible farther down the street at the saloon.

  "How much did you tell them?" The doctor broke the silence.

  "The townsfolk? Not much. Just that there are some bandits out there who are infected with something and that they need to be wary of people they don't know. That they need to remain in town until I give further word."

  "What did you tell them about Eva? About why you shot her?"

  Connor shrugged. "I just said she was infected. Then Abby showed up. I offered to pay for everyone's drinks for the night and left." He gave the doc a halfhearted grin. "It'll take me years to pay off that tab."

  Amos snorted a laugh. "Yeah, but it was a good distraction. The only one who noticed the Gaines boys was Cora." He tilted his head down the street and they all looked that way.

  Sashaying her way down the walk was the lovable Cora Monroe in a dark green bustle. She walked up to the men and propped one hip against a post as she crossed her arms. "You boys have had a mighty interesting couple of days. First the Crawfords, then the Gaines brothers come into town. Jeremiah and Jasper disappear with Jeremiah looking mighty ill, then Abby comes to get my darling brother and they take off, followed by a very angry looking Jed. And now I find you fellas out here, all chatty-like, with little Jasper himself, and no older brothers to be seen."

  She gave Connor a meaningful look, but he purposefully ignored her as he found the darkened house across the street to be infinitely more interesting. Amos shuffled his feet uncomfortably and coughed. Jasper and Doc Whitman darted glances between the three of them, unsure of what they should and shouldn't share.

  "You might as well spill, boys," Cora said as her eyebrows crawled up her forehead and her lips puckered. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not some scared little girl you can pat on the head and shoo away."

  Doc Whitman was the first to crack. "We might as well tell her, Connor. Someone will figure something out sooner or later and it's better that the real story be out there."

  Connor quirked an eyebrow at him. "Is it?"

  The doctor shrugged. "If more of those things come, we need to be ready."

  Connor chewed his lip for several seconds. "I know. Son of a bitch." He pounded a fist against the railing and straightened. "all right. Inside."

  The group followed him back into the doctor's house. Abby and Hannah were in the kitchen. "Tea's ready," Hannah said as they walked in.

  Connor gave her a smile. "Thanks, Hannah. We need another cup, please."

  "Oh my Lord!"

  He turned in the doorway. Cora was standing in the examination room with her hands clasped to her mouth. Her eyes were wide and wet. He walked over and slipped his hand into her elbow to lead her away from the mess that had yet to be cleaned. Amos came in just as they entered the hall and Connor tried to pass Cora off to him. Instead, she pulled her arm away from them both and cleared her throat. She swiped at the tears in her eyes and straightened her skirts.

  "So it's true then," she said. Her shoulders were straight and her head was high, but her fear made her voice crack. "Wyatt really did attack Eva? And you killed them both?"

  "Where'd you hear that?"

  She rolled her eyes at him. "You don't think they believed that cockamamie story you gave them, do you? We have ears, Connor. And eyes." She glanced back at the destroyed room.

  "Fair enough. Yes, it's all true. There's something going around that causes..." He waved his hand toward the mess. "That. Dunno what it is, or what to do about it."

  "And there are others infected with whatever he was infected with roaming around?"

  "We know there are at least four others. We'd be stupid to assume that was it."

  She pressed her lips together and thought for a minute. Then her shoulders straightened and she looked around the ro
om, meeting everyone's eyes straight on. "Then we had better come up with a plan. And it better be good."

  Chapter 23

  Summer Rain knelt inside the barber shop in the dark, tucked into the corner underneath the window. The twitching body of the old barber lay beside her. Blood bubbled from his lips and the hole in his throat. His eyes were huge and they stared at her with wonder. She reached down and pushed them closed. He didn't have the strength to open them again.

  A snarl escaped her lips as she listened to the sound of retreating footsteps. Her English wasn't the best, but she understood some of the conversation. They were aware of what she was. At least, they understood the idea. This was the end of it, the end of her little game. She would have to be more careful from now on. But what she was planning would have led to the same thing anyway.

  She fought the urge to follow the group, to attack. There were too many of them, even for her. So instead she waited, huddled in the dark like a fugitive, until she heard a door close down the street. Then she stood up and looked out the window. The street was empty, but lights were on in several houses. She gave the barber a nudge. He wasn't quite dead yet. Good, she thought. The longer it took for him to die, the longer it would take for him to turn. She wanted to be out of town before he caused too much of a stir.

  Summer Rain caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the barber's chair as she walked toward the door. She had avoided mirrors when she was with Little Bear. She did not want to see herself. She did not want to admit what she had become. It was easier to accept her awful deeds if she didn't have to look herself in the face.

  But now she stopped and stared. The face glaring back at her was almost unrecognizable. It was pale, no longer the honey brown color she so loved. Her hair hung loose and matted. It wasn't sleek and soft the way it had been when she was alive. Her hide dress was stained and ripped, barely a rag drooping off her emaciated body.

  She looked like death. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips when she realized that what she was seeing was what all her victims saw before she set upon them. A young woman who was once beautiful, who was once alive, now the very thing they feared. Sometimes, she let them scream. Their fear made her feel human once more.