by Al Lamanda
Sands shook his head. “My arm is burning up,” he said.
“Let me see,” Teal said.
Sands extended his left arm. The entire forearm was discolored now. Bright red around the bite mark, a soft pink on the flesh from elbow to wrist.
“We need to get you to a doctor, Max,” Teal said.
“Are they still out there?” Sands said.
“As far as I know.”
“Then unless you can figure out how to get a doctor to make a house call I’m pretty much fucked,” Sands said.
“Don’t talk like that,” Teal said.
“Yeah. What do you care for anyway?” Sands said. “What’s one more dead Sioux to white men more or less?”
“I’ll excuse that comment to your fever,” Teal said. “Want more coffee?”
Sands nodded.
Teal poured.
“I was out of line, wasn’t I?” Sands said.
“Fever makes a man say things,” Teal said.
Sands sipped coffee and nodded. “How come they ain’t chirping anymore?”
“I don’t know,” Teal admitted. “They calmed down after that…fracas before. Maybe they went back into the woods for the night? Maybe they’re sleeping?”
“And maybe they’re waiting us out is more likely,” Sands said.
“Why don’t you try and get some sleep,” Teal said. “I have an idea for tomorrow morning and I’ll need you rested.”
“An idea on what?” Sands said.
“Getting out of here,” Teal said. “But I’ll tell you in the morning.”
Sands nodded, stood and returned to the bed.
Teal extinguished two of the three lanterns, then sat at the table with fresh coffee and rolled another cigarette. He checked the two revolvers and Winchester rifles and set them on the table in arm’s reach.
Outside the cabin all was still and quiet.
Maybe it was safe to sleep a while?
Safer to sleep with one eye open.
Chapter 16
Red Foot stood the first watch while the group ate in the soldier’s mess hall. From the catwalk he could walk the entire perimeter of the outpost in fifteen minutes and pick and choose where he wanted to stop and observe below. With the gates closed and locked there was very little chance of danger during the night, but it was still a good idea to have a lookout for any riders.
The moon was low at the moment, but in an hour, when it crested his night vision would be good enough to spot a man approaching at fifty yards.
Lane gave him his pocket watch and told him he would be relieved in two hours. That was thirty minutes ago and so far he didn’t spot so much as a prairie dog. The only threat, he figured, would come from the stockade.
If there was any threat at all.
With what supplies Lane’s party had plus Maura’s goods from her home, she was able to prepare a decent meal in the soldier’s mess hall. Beef stew, potatoes, carrots, biscuits, coffee.
While the men ate, she and Little Cloud tended Mr. Anderson’s son Robert who they placed in a bed inside the barracks.
A large man with broad shoulders, Robert was burning up with fever and his face had an unusual greenish tint to it.
“Walking sickness,” Little Sky said. “Like my husband.”
“What happened to him?” Maura said.
“The Marshal shot him earlier today,” Little Shy said.
Maura looked at Little Sky. “Killed him?”
“If he hadn’t,” Little Sky said. “I would have to end his misery.”
“Where did you learn English?” Maura said.
“The missionaries on the reservation,” Little Sky said. “I think in Crow, so when I’m excited I forget English and the words come out Crow.”
Maura touched Robert’s forehead. “He’s burning up with fever. Go to the mess hall and see if they have ice in the locker where they store meat and milk.”
“Ice?” Little Sky said. “It’s summer.”
“I know. Go check.”
“Mr. Anderson, exactly what happened to your son?” Lane said.
Anderson took a sip from his coffee mug and looked at his oldest son Joseph. “You tell it, Joe. You were there.”
Joseph, a tall, lean man with dark hair, nodded to his father. He picked up his coffee mug, took a sip and said, “We were in the north range looking for strays. A calf was tangled up in some broken fence wire. We went to free her and this man came out from behind some rocks. At first we didn’t know what to make of him. He looked sick, deadly ill with something.”
Joseph paused to take another sip of coffee. “We asked him what was wrong, could we help,” he said. “The man started walking right at us and when he got close, his face was all green and sickly looking, especially his eyes. Bob told him we could take him to town to the doc, but the man rushed at us and the son of a bitch took a big bite out of Bob’s arm. I yanked him off and he tried to bite me. That’s when I cocked him aside the head with my pistol.”
“Did you kill him?” Lane said.
Robert shook his head. “Bob did,” he said. “The son of a bitch popped right up as if I hit him with a feather instead of fifty ounces of iron. He came after me and Bob shot him in the chest. It backed him up, but didn’t put him down. Bob shot him two more times and the bastard kept coming. He made a grab for my neck and Bob shot him in the head and that put him down for good. We buried him out there and that night Bob started to feel sick. It got worse and worse and…here we are.”
“If I hadn’t seen Crow take bullets to the chest as if they were pebbles I wouldn’t believe that story,” Lane said.
“Crow?” Anderson said.
“The woman with Mrs. McCain is Crow,” Lane said. “We saw dozens of their people acting like the man who bit your son. She called it Walking Sickness. She said a rock fell from the sky into the river near their camp. She said her people started getting sick after that. She said…they eat people.”
Anderson and Joseph stared at Lane.
Little Cloud entered the mess hall and walked to the table and looked at Lane. “The lady, she asked for ice,” she said. “For his fever.”
“There might be some at that,” Lane said. “Poule, you and Scripture check that storage room in the kitchen. There might be some blocks wrapped in burlap. If there is, carry one to Mrs. McCain with an ice chipper.”
Maura was in the back room where a half dozen iron bathtubs were kept for privacy. She heard the door open and grabbed the Colt revolver from the waistband of her skirt and went to see who it was.
Scripture and Poule held a large block of ice encased in a burlap sack. Little Sky showed Maura the ice chipper.
“What should we do with it?” Poule said.
Maura tucked the revolver back into the waistband. “Put it in a tub back there and break it up into pieces,” she said. “Little Sky, help me get water from the pump. We’re going to give Robert an ice bath to lower his fever.”
On the catwalk, Red Foot stopped at the north tower when his eye caught sight of something in the shadows below. The moon was bright, but the walls of the outpost cast long shadows and even a large animal such as a buck deer would be hard to spot in the darker, gray area.
As a boy when the Sioux ran free and the soldiers had yet to come to the North West, Red Foot learned the art of night hunting when many animals were most active. Stand perfectly still in shadows and the shadows become as one. If a creature moves through the shadows breaking your line of vision, you will see its movement.
That’s what Red Foot did now.
Stayed as still as possible with his eyes on the shadows below. After a few minutes his night vision increased tenfold.
And he thought he saw something.
After chipping the ice into tiny pieces and filling the tub with water, Scripture and Poule stripped Robert down to his underwear and submerged him into the freezing cold water.
Robert had no reaction to the icy water on his skin.
“Not a peep out of him,” Scriptu
re said. “Eyes didn’t even open.”
Maura felt his face. “Still hot as boiling coffee,” she said.
Little Sky came in with another bucket of water from the pump.
“Have you seen my son?” Maura said to her.
“He’s down by the gate watching Red Foot,” Little Sky said.
“Could you tell him I want him in bed in ten minutes,” Maura said.
Little Sky nodded and left the room.
“What now?” Scripture said.
“We wait,” Maura said. “Maybe you could go get his father.”
Scripture nodded. “Poule, you wait here.”
Red Foot’s stared into the dark shadows below the outpost walls. He slowed his breathing to stabilize his upper body. The shadows began to take shape and form. Something moved and he could see it.
A man.
Next to him another man.
Behind him another.
And suddenly he could see it all.
Oh God, there was an ocean of them.
“Hey Mister Red Foot, what are you doing?” Seth said from below.
Red Foot looked down at the boy. “Go get the Marshal. Hurry.”
Seth stared up at Red Foot.
“Go!” Red Foot snapped.
Anderson touched Robert’s face. The skin was burning hot to the touch. “How long has he been in the ice you say?” he said.
“Almost twenty minutes now,” Maura said.
Joseph touched his brother. “That’s impossible. He should be shivering by now, unconscious or awake.”
“None the less, he’s burning up,” Maura said.
“We got to get to the doctor in Big Sky,” Joseph said.
“Pack up the wagon,” Anderson said.
“Pa, it’s more than ten miles to Big Sky from here,” Joseph said. “You want to make that ride in the dark. It will take us all night.”
“Then we’ll get there just in time for the doctor to open his office,” Anderson said. “Go do as I say.”
Lane climbed the ladder to the catwalk and stood beside Red Foot. “What’s up, Charlie?’ he said.
“Got a match?” Red Foot said.
Lane dug a wood match out of his shirt pocket.
Red Foot turned around and removed two torches from the guardhouse used to give soldiers riding in at night a beacon. “Light them,” he said.
Lane struck the match against the wood of the gate and touched the dry wood of both torches. Red Foot held the torches over the side of the wall.
“Look,” Red Foot said.
Lane looked down into the darkness.
Red Foot dropped the torches and as they cascaded to the ground, a sea of faces became visible in the shadows. One torch struck one of them in the head and his hair caught fire. He paid no attention to the hair burning on his head.
With both torches burning on the ground, the area was illuminated well enough for Lane and Red Foot to see the hundreds of ghouls standing at the gate.
Silently staring at the gates.
“They must have shown up at dark,” Red Foot said. “They’ve probably been standing there an hour or more, not making a sound.”
“Grab another torch,” Lane said.
Red Foot pulled another torch off its bracket and gave it to Lane.
Lane lit the torch and held it between him and Red Foot. “Hey you down there!” he yelled. “Up here! Look! Up here!”
A few of the ghouls slowly looked up at the illuminated faces of Lane and Red Foot. It took several seconds for the recognition to kick in and then the ghouls started moaning as they reached for the gate.
A few more looked up.
After that, a whole lot more looked up.
Animated now, the ghouls rushed the door in mass, scratching and clawing at the wood, yelling and moaning, stumbling over each other in their quest to gain entrance.
“Up here!” Lane yelled. “Look!”
The ghouls closest to the gates looked straight up at Lane. They reached up with their arms and snapped their teeth, snarling and growling.
“Put that out,” Lane said and gave the torch to Red Foot.
Red Foot reached inside the guardhouse and stuck the torch into the sand bucket in the corner, turned and stood beside Lane.
Invisible in the dark again to the ghouls below, Lane and Red Foot stood motionless and slowly the ghouls started to quiet down until they fell silent.
“Son of a bitch,” Lane said. “Charlie, go get all the men.”
Maura sat in a chair next to the bed where Scripture and Poule carried Robert Anderson to after the ice bath. After that, they, Mr. Anderson and Joseph went outside to see what Red Foot wanted.
Seth was in the bed beside Maura’s chair.
“What’s wrong with him, Ma?” Seth said.
“I don’t know,” Maura said. “He needs a doctor and a hospital.”
“A hospital is for people who are very sick, right?” Seth said. “I learned that in school.”
“That’s right, Seth,” Maura said. “Now say your prayers and go to sleep.”
“Okay, Ma.”
While Seth silently said his prayers, Maura touched Robert’s forehead. His skin was burning up, but there wasn’t a drop of sweat on him.
“My son needs a doctor,” Anderson said. “You can’t stop me from leaving, Marshal. You haven’t the authority.”
Except for Mrs. McCain and her son and Little Sky, everybody was on the catwalk.
“I do have the authority if your leaving endangers everybody else,” Lane said. “Charlie, you have those torches?”
Red Foot produced six torches, one of which was already lit.
“Everybody take one,” Lane said.
One by one, Red Foot lit the torches and passed them around.
“Now toss them over the side,” Lane said.
Six torches fell to the ground, three striking ghouls in the head.
“Now look,” Lane said.
Illuminated by the six torches, the sea of ghouls was clearly visible from the catwalk.
“My good God,” Anderson said.
Red Foot looked at Anderson. “I doubt God has very little to do with this,” he said.
Exhaustion washed over Maura and slowly her eyes closed and she fell asleep in the chair.
In the bed, Robert opened his eyes for just a fleeting second. They were yellow. Just as quickly as they opened they closed and a thin stream of greenish pus ran slowly out of his nose.
“Two men on watch two hours each until sunrise,” Lane said. “They can’t get in, but I’d like to keep an eye on them.”
“And come morning if they’re still there?” Anderson said. “My son needs that doctor.”
“Mr. Anderson, I suggest you grab a few hours sleep,” Lane said. “Your watch is next and I want you to be alert.”
Chapter 17
Sands opened his eyes to the sounds of sawing wood. At first he thought he was still asleep and dreaming, but he felt too damn sick for it to be a dream so he sat up in the bed and looked around the cabin.
Teal had moved the table next to the woodstove, placed a chair on top of the table and was standing on the chair. He had removed the first section of stovepipe and was enlarging the hole in the roof with a hand saw.
It was morning or mid-day because bright sunlight shown down through the hole in the roof. Beams of sunlight illuminated falling sawdust as it gently fell to the floor.
Sands rubbed his left arm. He rolled up the sleeve and the skin was red all the way to the forearm now and too painful to apply any pressure to. His fever was worse yet he wasn’t sweating. Not a drop.
He stood and immediately felt dizzy. Teal left the other three chairs in place. He took small steps on wobbly knees to the closest chair and fell onto it.
The noise caught Teal’s attention and he looked down.
“Morning,” Teal said. “How do you feel?”
“Like I died and went to hell,” Sands said.
“Hold on,” Tea
l said.
Teal stepped down to the table and then hopped to the floor. “I made coffee this morning and it’s still hot,” he said and lifted the pot off the surface of the woodstove. He filled two cups that were on the table and carried them to Sands.
Sands took a cup. “My arm is in a bad way,” he said.
“I know,” Teal said. “I checked it while you were still asleep.”
Sands sipped coffee and looked at the hole in the roof. “You figure on going up for a look?”
Teal nodded. “Want a smoke?”
“Yeah.”
Teal rolled two cigarettes, lit them off a wood match and passed one to Sands.
“There’s some canned peaches, pears and jerked meat,” Teal said. “Best eat to keep your strength up.”
“God I feel sick,” Sands said. “Like my insides are on fire or something.”
“Food will make you feel better,” Teal said.
While Sands opened a can of peaches, Teal returned to enlarging the hole in the roof. When the hole was large enough for him to pass through, Teal looked down at Sands.
“Grab your rifle,” Teal said. “I’m going up for a look.”
Sands picked up his Winchester, cocked the lever and held it on his lap while he ate peaches from the can.
Teal took hold of the edge of the roof and slowly pulled himself up so that his shoulders were above the roof line. It took some wiggling and pulling, but he finally managed to climb onto the roof.
Out of breath, Teal lay on his back for a moment and looked up at the bright, blue sky. It was a beautiful morning without a cloud in sight. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence.
Maybe they were alone?
Maybe the ghouls wandered off during the night?
Only one way to be certain.
As silently as possible, Teal rolled over and crawled on his stomach to the edge of the roof. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.
A hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty ghouls were gathered around the front door of the cabin. They were still, almost listless. Maybe they were all asleep. One of them softly chirped, then another, then they were silent again.