TREASURE KILLS (Legends of Tsalagee Book 1)

by Phil Truman

  After they’d walked about two hundred yards through the field, Threebuck asked his companion, “Did you bring the flashlight?”

  Randy held his hand up. “Listen,” he said in a whisper. He squatted; Threebuck followed his lead. “What is it?” he asked Randy in his own whisper while looking about furtively.

  “Thought I heard someone talking,” Randy answered softly. He stood up a little into a crouch, looking over the top of the tall grass. “I think I see some people sitting on the back porch of that house. Let’s go this way,” he said, indicating a route more toward the road and the front of the house.

  Twelve minutes later they loped up to the rail fence separating the pasture from the yard and the gravel drive that ran along the side of Sunny’s house. Randy slid between the rails of the fence and stood surveying their location. Threebuck followed.

  Randy pointed toward the large building fifty yards behind the house. “That’s the barn. Let’s go,” he said. They skulked toward the building, seeking shadows as they advanced. At one point Threebuck stopped short and looked about fearfully.

  “What are you doing?” Randy asked. He’d reached the shaded side of a tractor parked to one side of the barn yard, and squatted looking back at Threebuck who stood frozen in the direct moonlight.

  “Did you hear something?” Threebuck asked in a loud whisper.

  “Hear what?” Randy asked back with irritation.

  “Sounded like a bear or something,” Threebuck said.

  “You’re plum spooked. There ain’t no bears out here. Now get over here!”

  When they reached the barn door, itself standing in deep shadow, Randy felt along its surface, studying the latching mechanism with his hands. He lifted a piece of the latch, and slid a long iron bar back along its guide. He stopped at one point when metal screeched against dry wood. He looked back toward the house and around; waiting, to see if the sound awakened anyone. After only a few chickens inside the barn clucked inquiringly, Randy continued sliding the iron bar further back. One of the large double doors swung outward a foot or two, creaking softly. The two men looked about again, then slipped inside the barn.

  Shafts of moonlight filtered in through the many cracks on the moonlit sides of the barn, speckling the contents and the dirt floor inside. An even fainter light filtered in through the open loft door above them. But most of the interior lay in inky shadow.

  “Give me the flashlight,” Randy whispered to Threebuck.

  There was a palpable pause. Randy impatiently snapped his fingers and said again in a little louder voice, “C’mon. Gimme the flashlight.”

  “I thought you had it,” Threebuck said.

  Randy, in his loud whisper, swore vigorously at Threebuck. When he turned back to feel his way forward, he kicked a galvanized bucket and sent it careening noisily into a stall post.

  * * *

  At eight p.m. Hayward and Soc played their fifth hand of gin rummy, and despite the steady in-flow of coffee, both found themselves getting sleepy.

  “Gin,” Soc said again. He’d already won the previous four hands.

  “Are you kidding me?” Hayward asked, but the question was rhetorical. He threw his cards onto the tabletop in disgust, and stretched both his arms above his head. “Think I’ll take a little nap,” he said. “I figure them boys won’t show up until ten or so.”

  Soc examined Hayward’s cards and wrote the tally on the score sheet. After adding things up, he said, “You owe me ten bucks.”

  “Did you deduct for that Salisbury steak dinner?” Hayward asked. “Coffee’s free,” he added. He’d already moved toward the back of the RV to stretch out on the bed there.

  “Eight bucks, then,” Soc said. “Although, I ain’t sure about the cost of the Rolaids I had to chew to offset the dinner. Guess I’ll let that go.”

  “I’m just going to catch a few winks so I’ll be alert when all the action starts,” Hayward said. “You can use that sofa bed, if you want. We better douse the lights.”

  In his dream, Soc looked for a bathroom inside a large building. It appeared to be a museum of some sort. He was standing in front of an exhibit of stuffed raccoons. He’d searched several corridors, but none of the doors indicated a men’s room. And he really had to go bad. At one point he desperately opened a door only to find a janitor’s closet. As he stood there looking at the deep sink, a mop bucket fell from a shelf and clanked along the floor.

  When he awoke, he threw back the leather and fleece blanket, and headed toward the soft light illuminating the small bathroom of the RV. The red numerals of the digital clock on the microwave, read 12:17. Did he hear people talking outside?

  “Hey, Hayward, wake up,” he said in a whisper as he shook the man gently.

  “Oh, crap,” Hayward said as he awakened with a start. “What time is it?”

  “Shh,” Soc said. He held one of the blinds slates up at the small window looking out. “I think our varmints are here.”

  Hayward got up from the bed, and looked out the window, too.

  “Something ain’t right,” Soc said. “We better arm ourselves and get out there to see what’s going on.” He headed to the front of the RV, put on his down vest, and picked up his shotgun leaning against the driver’s chair. He pumped the shotgun once to insert a shell into the firing chamber, clicked on the safety, and headed for the door. He stopped there to look back for his friend.

  “You coming, or not?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Hold on a sec. I gotta pee first,” Hayward said.

  Something thumped on the roof of the RV. “What the hell was that?” Hayward said.

  “Sounded like a baseball hit the roof... or a rock.”

  The two men waited to see if another something would strike the RV. But by then, with Soc holding the door open, they could hear the voices plainly. One was a man’s voice, a deep sinister base; the other was a woman’s. It sounded like Sunny.

  * * *

  Normally, Sunny slept soundly, but this night restlessness gripped her, and sleep came fitfully. An afternoon of organic grocery shopping had worn her out, bring about an early bedtime, around ten. Something startled her awake at eleven-thirty, and she lay listening for several minutes. Just starting to doze again, another sound popped her eyes wide, and got her out of bed to investigate. The noise sounded like it could’ve come from the barn. She crept about the house on tiptoes peeking out several windows. Looking toward the barn and cellar, all seemed quiet. She squinted to see through the dark shadows covering the barn’s front. Was one of the barn doors open a little?

  Perhaps Hayward and Soc had captured a raccoon, she thought. And they were in the barn. Still, that didn’t seem right. She didn’t think it likely the two elderly men would check the live traps until morning.

  Sunny shrugged and turned to go back to bed. Pulling the covers over her, she heard a clanging noise. Distance muffled the sound, but it was loud enough to not be mistaken, and it came from the area of the barn.

  “That was no raccoon,” Sunny said to herself. Back out of bed, she slipped on her heavy fleece robe, went to her closet, fumbled around the shelf above her head, and pulled out the gun belt and holster. She flung the belt around her waist, buckled it, and removed the pistol from the holster, checking the load, spinning the cylinder. Shooting somebody, anybody, wasn’t part of her plan, but if it was that damn Gale playing one of his stupid Hill Man games, he’d learn a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. She headed for the back door.

  * * *

  The creature moved laterally at the edge of the trees. The bright moonlight dappled his dark brown all-covering hair with spots of silver as he moved, draping him in a natural camouflage. Fearful wouldn’t describe his frame of mind, but he did remain cautious. He would not move out into the open field beneath the bright exposing light of the full moon until he fully understood the risks.

  The dwelling, this night, looked pretty much as it always had except for the addition of the small structure in the field behind t
he large structure. Moving along the line of the trees, getting as near to the structure as he could while still hidden within the tree cover, he looked closely and sniffed the air periodically trying to sense any danger.

  He picked up a rock about the size of a softball. Throwing rocks at these things, or any structure, usually seemed a good way to determine if any of the Others remained inside. But before he could heave the rock, he noticed two figures near the barn scurrying toward it; stopping in the shadows of a tree, then scurrying forward again. He thrust his head forward, looking closer and sniffing. His keen eyesight and night vision showed him two male Others, one much larger than the other. At first, he couldn’t understand what they were doing. Then it occurred on him. They, also, had come to take The Food.

  “Mmrrrooph!” he exclaimed, standing to his full height. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled as a low, fierce growl issued from deep in his throat. He paced back and forth in the shadow of the trees. Presently, he heard a sound coming from the barn. Maybe these two Others only wanted to steal eggs from the fat birds. Maybe they had no interest in The Food at all, or didn’t know its location. He would sit and watch a while longer. He had a clear view of the small cave where The Food awaited him. If it appeared that these two Others had come for his treasure, he would take immediate action. But for now he would wait and observe.

  * * *

  In her green plaid pajamas over which she wore her powder blue fleece robe with her six-shooter belted around her waist, Sunny headed out to the barn. Her bunny-headed pink house slippers flapped as she walked across the yard. She left the pistol holstered, but carried a flashlight in her right hand. The moonlight shone so bright there was no need to turn it on. She could see almost every detail of everything, except for those things that lay in shadow. Dark shadow concealed the cellar door; so Sunny couldn’t really tell if it stood open or not. She turned on the flashlight, but the beam didn’t quite reach the cellar door.

  She thought, If Gale has come to play his tricks, no doubt he’ll go for the kimchi first. Sunny moved toward the cellar, and the light from her flashlight revealed that the door still remained closed. Wouldn’t hurt to open it, and look inside just to make sure the kimchi was still there. She threw back the door and took the two steps down into the cellar. Pointing the light into the back right corner, she saw the earthen jar stood intact, and apparently undisturbed.

  A rattling noise came from the barn like something had fallen, and then a scraping noise as if something had been dragged across a hard surface. Sunny switched off the flashlight and turned to listen. Men could be heard talking in a low voice. There was most certainly someone in the barn, she thought. It had to be Hayward and Soc... or Gale and White. She headed that way.

  When Sunny got to the barn doors, she saw that one stood ajar a couple of feet. She pressed her back against the door opposite the open one, and listened. She could definitely hear whispering, but couldn’t identify the voices. Sunny was pretty sure, though, they didn’t belong to Hayward and Soc... that left only one possibility.

  Sunny felt both angry and gleeful at the same time—angry because those two idiots, Punch and White, had decided, on this Halloween night, to try to play another “Hill Man” trick on her. Her glee came because she had the upper hand and could turn the tables; that is, scare the bejabbers out of them, instead. She transferred the flashlight from her right to her left hand, and as quietly as possible, pulled her pistol from its holster. She stood there for a few seconds mentally preparing herself for her next move. Sunny held the flashlight and pistol, one in each hand, next to her face, both pointed skyward. She whirled through the open door and shouted in as stern and commanding voice as she could summon, “Hold it right there!” Then she switched on the flashlight.

  The two surprised faces Sunny saw staring back at her in the beam of the flashlight so startled and terrified her that she dropped the pistol. The men stared frozen in the shaft of light like deer in headlights. She beheld the demons from her dreams, hell-shades from her worst nightmare. In her seconds long paralyzed state, the two rushed toward her. She regained her senses and fell to her knees pointing the flashlight to the barn floor to find where she had dropped her gun. The beam crossed the pistol’s handle and she reached for it, but before she could close her hand around it, a booted foot came down upon her fingers, then a rough hand grabbed the flashlight and tore it from her grip. Another pair of arms slipped around her from behind, clasping under her arms and behind her head in a headlock. Still held that way, the man pulled her to her feet.

  The flashlight shone in her face, as a deep menacing voice said, “Well, look what we got here, Three. And she brought us a flashlight, too. We appreciate that, girlie. We thought you was supposed to be gone.”

  Sunny struggled in the hold of the other man, but couldn’t break it. “Easy, easy, sweet cheeks,” the man who held her said. She could feel and smell his hot, rancid breath on the back of her neck and cheek.

  “Let me go, you little bastard!” Sunny said as she continued struggling.

  The guy holding her laughed and squeezed her tighter. “You tougher’n your old man,” he said. “And a damn sight better looking.”

  “Now what were you going to do with this,” the big one said. Sunny could see him holding the gun up turning it this way and that while he looked at it. “Pretty slick piece,” he added. “Maybe we can put it to use later.”

  “What’re you doing here?” Sunny asked. She had stopped her fighting because every time she tried to twist loose, the guy holding her squeezed tighter and pushed her head painfully forward onto her chest.

  “Well, we’re looking for something,” the big one said. “Just kind of minding our own business, until you came along. But that sort of changes things now, don’t it. We were just going to get what we were looking for and get out. But now... I don’t know. Whadda you think we should do, Three?”

  “I think we should take her with us,” the little guy said. He nuzzled his whiskered face against the back of her cheek, and licked it.

  Sunny pulled her head away to the side as much as she could, making a disgusted sound.

  “Well, yeah, we could do that,” the big one said. “But keeping a woman around can cause you a lot of grief. After a while, they just start to drag you down. Naw, I don’t think taking her with us would be such a good idea. We’re going to have to think of something else.” He pointed the gun at her head and squinted down the sights above the barrel.

  “Why don’t you just get whatever it is you’re looking for and leave?” Sunny said amid hot, angry tears. “What is it you’re looking for, anyway?”

  “Whoa, I’m having one of them déjà vu things,” the big one said. He lowered the barrel of the gun. “That’s the same question that old farmer asked me when we come out here looking for stuff a few years back.”

  Sunny looked at the big guy with hatred, “You killed Buck, didn’t you.”

  “Was that his name?” the big one asked with a sinister smile. Then he had another thought, and lost his smile. “Is that what your daddy told you? Did Goat tell you what happened?” He stepped forward grabbing a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. When Sunny was forced to look into his eyes from four inches away, all she saw was a bottomless pit of evil.

  “Yes.” Sunny didn’t know why she said that, because Goat hadn’t told her anything.

  “Yeah?” he asked. “Well, the old guy asked for it. If he’d told us what we wanted to know, and if he hadn’t come at me with a crowbar, we maybe wouldn’t have cracked his skull.”

  “You piece of dung,” Sunny said.

  The big guy laughed without humor. “I think after we find what we come for, we better do to you what we did to that old man.” He once again pointed the pistol at her head. “Have to make yours look like an accident, too; mebbe a suicide.”

  The big one turned and shined the flashlight into the barn. “Ain’t you supposed to have an old wagon in here somewhere?” Then when the beam
found the wagon in the corner of the barn, he said, “Ah, there it is, just like it’s supposed to be. I bet what we’re looking for is in there, too.”

  The big guy walked over to the wagon and threw the dusty tarp back to reveal several items lying beneath it in the wagon bed. He pushed them around until he spied the rusty old toolbox in the corner under the wagon seat. Snapping open the latches, he lifted the lid and pulled out the shallow tray inside. The flashlight exposed a gunnysack sitting in the interior of the box. He lifted it out, and set the flashlight on the bed of the wagon. Reaching inside the gunnysack, he pulled out a piece of buckskin and unfolded it, laid it on the wagon bed and picked up the flashlight, scanning the red words written on the skin.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.

  “Is that it?” the little guy asked as he relaxed his hold on Sunny a bit. Sunny had waited for just that opportunity. With a downward thrust of her left arm she broke the handclasp at the back of her neck, and continued downward and back with her elbow until it struck the guy square in the left side of his ribcage. He let out a “Hummph,” and doubled over slightly. Sunny spun her body counter-clockwise and outward, and while holding onto the guy’s right arm with both of hers, kicked him squarely, and with all her might, in the crotch.

  “Hooo,” Threebuck exhaled and continued doubling over, falling face first onto the barn floor, and immediately curling into a fetal position.