The Color of Gothic

by Joel Q. Aaron

  “Drop the weapon, Miss Richmond. Now.” Mr. Tab tightened his hand on Milly. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and glared at him with black eyes.

  “No,” Susanne said.

  “You are not thinking clearly,” the angel said.

  Blair guided Katy Lee along the wall toward the door.

  “Don’t move,” Susanne ordered.

  “Miss Richmond, your friend is not what you think,” Mr. Tab said.

  “Kill him.” Milly’s voice was too deep for a small woman, and rough from the angel’s grasp.

  “Put Milly down,” Susanne aimed the gun at Mr. Tab.

  “Momentarily.” Mr. Tab punched Milly’s chest, and drove it deep. His fist vanished inside her without seeming to harm her body. His arm jerked around. He spoke in an unknown language. His hand reappeared clinging to a dark smoky form. Mr. Tab pushed at Milly’s neck and pulled at her body. He yanked hard at the shadow until it came free. Milly’s body instantly went limp.

  The angel’s eyes were bright gold as he let her crumble to the floor.

  Mr. Tab wrenched the dark transparent body with both hands. “To the abyss,” he commanded, and let out a roar as he ripped the shadow in two pieces. A faint high-pitched scream erupted as the form convulsed and faded. An intense light flashed in the room.

  He held out his hand to Susanne. “The weapon.”

  Susanne moved her teary eyes back and forth from Blair to the angel. Shaking, she raised the pistol barrel to her temple. “I’m sorry.”

  Blair lurched for her, grabbing her wrist.

  The gun went off.

  Katy Lee screamed.

  A puff of Susanne’s dark hair floated in the air within the gray gun smoke.

  Blair twisted Susanne’s thin arm around to her back and slipped the pistol from her fingers. She shook his grip loose and ran out the door.

  “What was that about?” Blair asked.

  Mr. Tab picked up Milly and placed her on the bed. “He wants you dead.”

  “Who?”

  “Stone and the being within him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he knows you are coming for him.” The angel moved to the door. “Mr. Blair, it’s time. Get dressed.”

  * * *

  Duane rode Skedaddle into town and straight to the Maroon Saloon. Pastor Anthony Jones met them at the hitching post out front.

  “Why are you in such a hurry, Duane?”

  He slid off the saddle. “Men are trapped in the mine. The last entrance blew up too soon. One of them Hungarian fellas and the Mayor are trying to dig them out.”

  “Let’s go find some help. But Duane, you’re going to stay here after we do. You don’t need to go back there.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “I know.” Jones put his hands on the boy’s cheek. “But your mom doesn’t need you to get hurt. You’re all she has right now.”

  Duane’s spunk wilted. “Okay,” he reluctantly said.

  A gunshot cracked inside the Maroon Saloon. Pastor Jones rushed into the building. Everyone was watching the upper hallway.

  Mr. Tab calmly descended the stairs. “Mr. Jones, these people are not praying. Do I need to speak to you about this again?” He didn’t wait for an answer and continued to walk out the front doors.

  * * *

  Jonathan Blair dressed himself. His ribs no longer creaked when he breathed. If it hadn’t hurt so much, the feeling tickled. Blair checked his three pistols before holstering them.

  “Jonathan.” Miss Katy Lee’s voice was soft.

  “Yeah.”

  “Be safe.”

  He gave a half smile. “Not exactly an option for where I’m going.”

  She put her hand over her mouth. “You’re going in the mine, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Make sure you say something to Duane before you go. He really looks up to you.”

  “I will.”

  She hugged him. Blair embraced the touch. Smelled her hair, her skin. He kissed her softly, hesitantly. She welcomed the connection and held his face. They both grinned as they released the moment.

  “It’s amazing that we grew up so close to each other,” she said. “Knowing the same people and places… the memories of home don’t seem so bad. I’ll have to go back to Memphis for a while after all this is over. Feel the humid summer on my skin. Get lost in the aroma of a magnolia. I even want to smell the river again.” She giggled. “I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Once it’s in your blood, it’ll always be home.”

  Katy Lee moved to the window, keeping her back to Blair. “Did you ever sit on the bluffs and watch the sun set over the Mississippi?”

  “Beautiful, especially with the fall colors.”

  She lifted her hand to her face to wipe away a tear. Her voice cracked. “I can’t talk you into leaving now so we can watch one of those sunsets.”

  “I have to finish this.”

  She sniffed. “I know.”

  Blair put his hand on her shoulder. She reached up and laced her fingers between his.

  “Take care of the professor. He’s a good man.”

  “I will.”

  He gently kissed her neck, between her hairline and the curve to her shoulder. Blair held his lips against her skin for a moment—long enough to taste her skin and smell her perfume. Salty and sweet. To wrap her in his arms, to take her away… if only he could. The evil waited for him in the dark—it would always be there. Unless…

  Blair stepped through the door thinking he’d never again see the mighty river, the light of day or Katy Lee’s beautiful face.

  Blair took care to be quiet, reverent, as he walked through the saloon. Mr. Tab waited for him on the boardwalk.

  “They’re all in there praying.” Blair motioned toward the door.

  “The support is essential.”

  “We going in?”

  Mr. Tab nodded.

  “Anything I should know?”

  “You might not come out.”

  “I figured that. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  Duane came outside. “Mr. Blair.”

  “Hey, Duane.”

  “Where you going?”

  “To the mine.”

  “I want to go, but I was told to stay here.”

  “That’s good advice.” Blair glanced at Tab. “This here is Mr. Tab.”

  “Hello, sir.” Duane extended his hand.

  The angel shook it. “It is a pleasure. You have a blessed life ahead of you, young man.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We must depart.” Mr. Tab gave Duane a slight bow, then stepped down the boardwalk to a horse without a saddle. He effortlessly mounted the mare and grabbed a handful of mane.

  “See you later, Duane. Thanks for taking such good care of Skedaddle.” Blair shook the boy’s hand. “You’re growing into a good man. Take care of your mom.” He climbed onto his horse.

  Blair waved goodbye as they rode toward the Jollytime Mine.

  * * *

  Jonathan Blair and Mr. Tab arrived at the east entrance of the mine to witness a horde of activity. Men hammered and picked at large boulders, breaking them into maneuverable rocks. Others carried or rolled the rocks away. One team used a mule and rope to drag support timbers from the rubble. Jerry had survived the night of the death despite the loss of his Buck Snort Saloon. He continued his usual service by toting a water bucket and cup to each of the men.

  “What is the status?” Mr. Tab asked Mayor Burdett.

  “An hour, maybe two, until we can get it open.” He wiped sweat and dirt from his forehead. “Longer if there is more damage inside.”

  “We are in need of a few men to go with us.”

  “Where?”

  “Inside.”

  Mayor Burdett shook his head and pointed at the men working the pile of rocks. “You can’t get in.”

  “The air shaft above here is large enough for a man to climb down.”

 
; “That’s suicide. You’ll be trapped just like the others.”

  “I take it that you are not volunteering to go with us.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No. I am not. Gentlemen.” Mr. Tab called out. “Gentlemen. Please halt your work momentarily.”

  The mayor waved them over. Jerry took the break to pass the cool creek water around.

  “We’re going in through an air shaft,” Blair said. “We need volunteers. Who’ll join us?”

  János Kovách didn’t hesitate. “I will.” Dirt stuck to his sweaty clothes.

  “Mr. Kovách,” the angel addressed him. “Your desire is appreciated, but you may not enter.”

  “Why?” He threw down his pick. “My family’s in there.”

  “Your life passes through a different trail.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Blair ignored the question and searched the eyes of the other men. “Anyone else?”

  They were quiet except for the heavy breathing from their hard work.

  Pastor Jones raised his hand as he walked up to the group. “I’ll go.”

  “Very good, Mr. Jones.” The angel tipped his hat.

  Jerry set down the bucket. “You bunch of pansy asses. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let some bloodsucking creatures run me out of town.”

  “Anyone else?” Mr. Tab asked.

  Blair searched the crowd. “We’ll need at least three guys to help lower us down. Any takers?” Three men raised their hands.

  “I’d like to help,” János Kovách said.

  Mr. Tab approved, then took him aside and spoke to him in Hungarian.

  “What was that about?” Blair asked the angel after the conversation.

  “He must remember and tell his grandchildren,” Mr. Tab said.

  “You telling me this isn’t going to be over today?”

  “Would you prefer one of your sarcastic answers?”

  “I guess that was a stupid question.”

  “Evil will continue even if we succeed here, and he has a part to play.”

  “Ripples.”

  “Yes, Mr. Blair. Ripples.”

  The one-armed man went from miner to miner collecting pistols and bullets. He wore one belt with six mismatched holsters. Jerry had a rope strapped over his shoulder and tied to his belt to keep it from falling down. A belt of bullets slung over his other shoulder. He had two more pistols in his waistband. His pants pockets bulged with more cartridges.

  Blair counted the pistols. “Jerry, what are you doing?”

  “I can’t reload too fast with just one.” He held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers. “So, I figured as long as I can keep shooting, I’ll be okay.”

  Blair smiled. “Makes sense to me.”

  Pastor Jones gestured to Jerry’s empty shirt sleeve. “Do you mind if I ask what happened? Someone told me you were in the war.”

  “Yep. I made it through without much more than a scratch. Fought in Mexico before that. Spent a few years fighting Indians too.”

  “Is that how you lost your arm?”

  “Hell, no. My second wife caught me with my soon-to-be third wife.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Sure glad I never taught her how to aim.”

  Blair and Jerry laughed. Jones’ jaw dropped.

  “You ready?” Blair asked.

  Jerry picked up a lever-action rifle. “I am now.”

  “Can you use that?”

  Jerry held onto the lever and twirled the rifle, cocking the weapon with the motion. He grinned. “As long as the tunnel has enough room, I’ll be all right.”

  Mr. Tab pointed toward the airshaft. “Let us enter the mine.”

  Chapter Twenty

  In the Dark

  A gray, weathered, split-rail fence formed of rough timber surrounded the hole in the ground. A metal grate with narrow openings lay over the shaft, unattached. Blair kicked one side of the shabby fence down and peered into the black void. A current of air blew out of the depths of the mine. The breeze smelled of death.

  “Help me lift this.” He bent and grabbed the grate. János and Jerry struggled to lift the iron up on its end then let it fall on another side of the fence. Both collapsed to the ground.

  “Who’s first?” Jerry asked, then spit into the hole.

  “I’ll go.” Blair wrapped the rope under his arms and tied a knot.

  “Bemerészkedik az oroszlán barlangjába,” János said.

  The angel smirked at the Hungarian. “I was there with Daniel, he was brave. But those lions were nothing compared to these demons.” Mr. Tab put his hand on Blair, gently ushered him out of the way, and then stepped over the hole and dropped in.

  “Holy shit,” Jerry said.

  Jones fumbled with two lanterns. “You are not too far off.”

  Jerry shook his head. “How’d he do that?”

  “Just be glad he’s on our side,” Blair said.

  “Let’s join him.” Jerry slapped Jones on the back.

  Blair sat on the edge of the hole with his boots dangling inside. This was it. Now or never. Death lingered so close to him the past several years. Today he might meet it. Surprisingly, he wasn’t so anxious to find his finale.

  “It’s about one hundred feet.” János extended his hand. “Good luck.”

  Blair shook it. “Get that entrance open.”

  “You have two hours,” János said. “If we don’t hear from you, then we’ll switch off the ventilation fans. The gas should kill off anything left down there. Get our boys out before we have to do that.”

  Blair nodded, then slipped off the edge and disappeared. János and the other men hung onto the rope, letting it out little by little until it went limp.

  Pastor Jones followed, then Jerry.

  * * *

  Jerry landed in the dark. The high mountain sun that warmed his back had no strength below the earth. The cool air instantly sent a chill up his spine. He shivered. “You here?” His voice was a pitch high.

  Jones struck a match, giving a brief glow to the tunnel and revealed Blair and Mr. Tab. The pastor fiddled with a lantern.

  Jerry wiggled out of the rope. “Boy, I thought they already got ya.”

  Tab knelt down next to Jones. “We won’t need those instruments.”

  “Then how are we gonna see?” Jerry said. “These peepers ain’t too good in the dark.”

  Mr. Tab helped Jones to his feet. The angel placed his hands on his eyes and spoke.

  “What did he say?” Jerry asked.

  Mr. Tab moved to Jerry. He took a step back, unsure what the man was doing

  “You will be fine.” The angel placed his hand on him and said the same words.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Jerry held his rifle up to his face. “I can see it as clear as day. What did you do to me?” He could see every one of his guns. And even down to his toes.

  Blair received his supernatural vision. Jones blew out the lantern.

  Mr. Tab stepped in front of the group. “Gentlemen, we have entered the lair of sin. Be prepared for anything. I will lead this assault. Keep them off me as I send them to hell. I don’t believe many, if any, of them can be saved until we kill the man known as Daniel Stone. Do not hesitate to kill, or this shall surely be your grave.”

  “I heard better speeches at Gettysburg.” Jerry snickered. He looked up the air shaft. “I guess it’s too late to go home.”

  Mr. Tab eyed Jones. “Pastor, will you pray over us?”

  He nodded and raised his hands. “Lord, protect us as we set out on a mission for your Kingdom. Guard our minds as we stand on your Word. Let your heavenly host aid us in this quest. Amen.”

  The sound of shrieking echoed through the tunnels and blew past the Jerry like a foul breath. The invisible, evil presence of the demons filled the mine even more than their bitter cries. Jerry instantly pointed his rifle in the direction from which the breeze came. Dread pounded within his heart. “What the hell was that?”

  “They know we’re here,” Blair
said.

  “The prayer,” Jones said.

  Mr. Tab said, “You are both correct.”

  “What did you do that for?” Jerry asked. These people were going to get him killed. Making all kinds of noise. You’re supposed to sneak up on your enemy.

  “When dealing with Lucifer’s kind, you must take the offensive—showing your strength before you become their prey. A defensive posture may never be overcome, though, never provoke what is dormant.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jerry said.

  “Mr. Jones, keep praying,” Mr. Tab said.

  “Are any from Kovách’s group still alive?” Blair asked.

  “Yes. That shall be our first task.” Mr. Tab walked past the men. “We must have their assistance to reach our goal.”

  “What is our goal, exactly?” Jerry checked his rifle again, more for the fact he could see it in the dark.

  “To destroy the demonic principality reigning over Gothic before it overtakes your souls and drags you into hell for all eternity.”

  Jerry glanced at his belt. “I should have brought more guns.”

  * * *

  The tunnels were tight and low. The men ducked under occasional support beams. Ore cart tracks in the larger shafts were a stumbling hazard.

  “Not exactly a convenient place to fight,” Blair said. If the vampires, the possessed used guns, they were surely going to die. There was no place to hide from gunfire.

  “I’ve been in worse,” Jerry replied.

  “Get ready.” Mr. Tab stopped. He pointed to his right at a small tunnel. “Two.”

  Blair moved forward with pistols ready. His supernatural vision gave everything in the mine—rocks, tools, coal, timber, and the men—a greenish tint. The side shaft was only a couple feet high. He crouched and peeked. A figure lunged for him. He fired two shots into the creature’s head. A second demon followed. Blair fired again, three times. It flopped on the ground, wounded. Jerry stepped on the man’s neck and put a bullet in his brain.

  “That’s messy.” Jerry leaned over the corpse and frowned. “Is his brain green?”

  “Your vision causes the color.” Mr. Tab continued walking.

  Jerry blinked several times. “I guess it does—makes everyone appear sick.”

  Jones wiped his mouth. “I don’t see how you get used to this gore.”