Strange Dominion

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by Lyons, Amanda M.


  The silence was accented by a raucous tintinnabulation that left each of the three men disoriented with vertigo. Then, as before, the ringing in their ears was replaced with a godly voice that seemed to come from the heavens, yet they knew it was the beast, although his mouth did not move.

  “This sacred land was a sanctuary, free from molestation; an Eden among snake pits. Its virginal plains have been raped by your plows and impregnated with the seeds you sow. You feed upon the bastard births that harvest each season, dissipating the moisture from the from the soil’s womb, dehydrating Mother Earth’s very soul. For that, I come with wraith in my soul, vowing to restore innocence to this land, despite the gash you have left upon the ground.”

  The voice echoed within their heads as the tentacles upon its chin writhed with serpentine grace.

  “Fate is unkind to those who tempt it, damning with no remorse. I take with me the one who brought forth the plague of man upon this soil, allowing the others to remain and bear witness to my arrival, destined to share the tale of this day for millennia to come, protecting this sacred soil from future despair.”

  The creature’s words echoed as they faded, replaced by the buzzing from before. The tentacle arms reached forth and grasped Devlin by the throat, his body lifted high toward the heavens. He writhed in an effort to free himself, but to no avail.

  Daniel and James attempted to run, to escape the same fate, but were frozen in place by a mysterious force. They were cursed to bear witness to whatever events were to unfold before them.

  High in the air, Devlin screamed for salvation from the god he praised, no answer to his call was returned. The tentacles gripped tighter as the creature turned its back toward Daniel and James, the surrounding storm condensing upon its back, forming demonic wings comprised of blackness darker than crude oil. Although the storm was diminished, darkness still blocked out the sun.

  The creature took thirteen steps forward before glancing back to Daniel and James. As his eyes met theirs, locking in an all-telling gaze, Devlin’s body was slammed into the ground, sending torrential waves of energy through the Earth. The soil ripped apart, splitting down the middle, absorbing Devlin’s sin within the scar.

  The creature turned back toward the men, their bodies shaking in fear. He raised his arms toward the heavens once again, the buzzing intense in their ears. His form began to break apart, dissolving into a million locusts that swarmed into the clouds above. Within moments, time seemed to be non-existent, rain poured into the cracked earth until the clouds melted away, allowing the sun above to shine down upon the damaged Earth.

  “Bear witness to the violated gash your founder has placed upon the precious Earth. Her innocence will forever be marred by this Grand Canyon. The bloodied waters of Heaven’s tears will run through the gash, forming a Colorado River, red and tainted in its flow, reminding your people that devilish deeds caused the malformation of this land. I beseech you to heed my warning, protect this land and worship its sacred grounds as though it were your own mother. Warn others of this day, spread this tale across the ages, and fight for this land’s preservation. Warn all that I am here, watching, waiting, and vengeful in my actions. I am Cuitiliú, worshipped by some, feared by most, residing within the oceanic underworld until the need arises to reveal my presence. Do not welcome my return, for I shall be less forgiving.”

  The voice echoed as the last words faded and the cloudless sky shined brightly above. James rose to his feet, helping Daniel in the process, before inching toward the cliff. They peered downward, growing lightheaded at the depth the creature created. The reddish walls reflected into the savage waters below, creating the red hue the creature named it after.

  They did not linger, determined to head back to the cellar and warn the town folk of the hellish scene for which they were witnesses, to share how wild the west really was.

  Oregon Trail

  Richard D. Ramsey

  I felt fine when we left Missouri; in fact, I was sitting on top of the world! My daddy had just finished his training at Savannah Medical College, back home in Georgia, and he was picked up pretty quickly to head west. Young doctors were a hot commodity for wagon trains and expeditions in those days. Plus, he kept talking about tension building between the states and he wanted to get as far away as possible before something really bad happened.

  We only lived in the town of Independence for two weeks before an old captain hired daddy to go west with him. Mama called me in from the yard one afternoon to greet him. “Daleela! Come inside, your father wants you to meet someone!” The boarding house we were staying at was small, but it had a good banquet room that the men sometimes used for business.

  I turned to my friend Nicholas and said, “I’ll be back soon. It’s probably another tutor.” Teachers were hard to find and even harder to keep. Most of them were waiting to head west with an expedition, just like we were.

  The banquet room was poorly lit with just candles and few lanterns. There were windows, but they stayed shut when business was being discussed. Everyone was trying to get ahead of everyone else and they all wanted their meetings to be secret. My daddy was dressed nice with a tie and a vest. I knew something important was about to happen because his vest was buttoned. He didn’t even do that for work.

  Sitting across the table from him were two men. One was old and shaggy with a long beard and bushy eyebrows. The other was a dapper man wearing a full suit with a bowtie. He didn’t belong in a rough territory like Missouri, much less a place like Independence.

  Daddy waved mother and I over to the table. “Daleela, there’s some men here I want you to meet.” He gestured to the old man first. His entire body looked worn and crooked. “This is Captain Faber. He’s a wagon master.”

  I curtsied just like mama had shown me.

  “And this is Mr. Edwin B. Morgan. He’s the financier of this wagon train.” I didn’t know what a financier was, but it sounded important, so I curtsied to him also. He had white hair and bushy eyebrows just like his counterpart, but he was well-groomed and had a warm smile.

  “Mr. Morgan works for Wells Fargo.” When my daddy said that, Captain Faber took in a deep breath and rolled his eyes. He was obviously not impressed.

  The banker stood and reached across the table with a very long arm and shook my hand. “How do you do, young lady?”

  I giggled in spite of myself and turned away from his strong countenance. “I’m okay.” Mama urged us both to sit down and we did.

  Daddy looked up at my momma and told her what was going on. “Honey, these men want to hire me to go to Oregon.”

  Mama’s jaw dropped. “Oregon? I thought we were going to Sacramento?”

  Daddy shifted in his seat. “Honey, it’s just…”

  “Sacramento is saturated.” Mr. Morgan came to my father’s rescue. “It’s grown too large to quickly.”

  “That ain’t the reason.” The captain was sure to put his two cents in.

  Mr. Morgan cast him a sideways glance and turned his attention back to my mother. “Oregon is wide open country with lots of land and natural resources. California has grown mostly unregulated because of a gold boom and has become a cauldron of trouble. Opium is flooding in from the east and men outnumber women ten to one; hardly a place where you want to raise a young lady.”

  Captain Faber put a fist down on the table. “That’s what I hate about folks like you. You don’t lie, but you don’t tell the truth neither.”

  Edwin dropped his shoulders and looked at my daddy. Without laying eyes on Faber, he addressed him. “Okay, then, Charles. Why don’t you enlighten us?”

  The captain drew a lantern closer to his face. The light from underneath cast a shadow across his features, making them appear more withdrawn than they had. His voice lowered and I had to lean in to hear all that he was saying. “Sacramento is more dangerous than it used to be, but the trail is worse. I know, I’ve made that trip many, many times and I swear I’ll never do it again. There’s evil out there
. I’m not just talking about Indians and wild animals. I mean real evil. The devil lives on that trail.”

  Mr. Morgan interrupted. “Charles. You’re scaring these people.”

  The old captain pointed a crooked finger at the banker. “Now you hush up! These people deserve to know what to expect, and I intend to tell every single one of ‘em what they’re-a getting theyselves into!’

  There was a pause before he continued. “I’ve covered the Oregon Trail twice, it’s not as bad in the summertime. I wanted to retire, but Wells Fargo is paying me a lot of money to lead y’all out there. It’s a big group and the moving will be slow. Make sure you have a shotgun and you know how to shoot. There are bears and Indians around every corner.”

  He turned and glared at my daddy. “Dr. Weaver, do you believe in God?”

  Daddy shrugged. “Well, I’ve never been much of a…”

  The captain stood up. “Nope. Find another doctor.”

  Mr. Morgan put his hand on the captain’s shoulder and sat him back down. “There’s not another doctor and we need to get going as soon as possible.”

  Faber looked at all of us. “Okay, but before we leave, you’re all getting baptized. There are things out there, evil things, just waiting for people like y’all to march right into their mouths.”

  ***

  Now, you have a choice. You can choose to believe what I am about to tell you or you can choose not to. Either way, you don’t get to judge me because I know what happened out there. Just listen, and then decide for yourself.

  The team loaded up and headed out west. It wasn’t easy. We had to walk so the livestock wouldn’t have too much weight to pull. Only the lil’uns and the sick people got to ride. One old lady even complained that she wished her old bones could walk because the wagon was so bumpy. Mama said it was a blessing to be able to use my legs, but I just didn’t appreciate it in those early days. Being on a wagon train was hard work and everything was always dirty, but Daddy said it would all be better once we got to Oregon.

  There weren’t any other kids my age, so I really didn’t have any friends. Well, except for Boomer. He was Captain Faber’s dog. Boomer was a great big canine with yellow hair and a tail that I swear was a mile long! He could fetch and we played together a lot when he wasn’t keeping the herds in line. Everyone had a job, even the pets.

  We were three days into the Nebraska territory when we lost our first person. It was a crooked old feller who was riding way in the back. Some people came up to the front of the train during breakfast and asked my daddy to go see about him. He didn’t stay gone long; he said the old man had died in his sleep.

  Captain Faber had finished breakfast early and was already setting the teams in line. He stepped over to my daddy as soon as he got back. “Was it cholera?”

  Daddy was wiping his hands on an old cloth. Even out here on the trail, he dressed nice with a white shirt and a vest, even though he left it unbuttoned. He always said that a respectable doctor always needed to keep up appearances. “Well, there were no reports of diarrhea, but his body is certainly dehydrated. I’ve not seen an actual case with my own eyes, but I think it is.”

  Faber sighed. He was in an undershirt and a pair of readymade work pants with an old pair of suspenders holding them up on his skinny frame. “Sounds like cholera. Most o’ these folks are good Mormons. They ain’t gonna discuss their sanitaries with you. You say he was all dehydrated?”

  My daddy nodded his head. “Shriveled up like an old potato.”

  The Captain nodded his head. “That’s cholera. Kills more people out there than cold or Indians.”

  “We should stop for a while so I can have time to check everyone out.”

  Captain Faber shook his head. “No. No. Absolutely not. We have to cross the pass before the cold sets in and we’ve already waited too long. Even one day lost will put us at risk.”

  Daddy leaned against one of the wagons and stepped closer to the captain. I had to stretch my neck to hear what he was saying. “Moving now will put us all at risk.”

  “That’s a chance we’re just going to have to take.” He hurried on down to some of the other wagons, yelling at them to get loaded up and ready to go.”

  The next morning, two more people were found dead in their wagons. It was so sad. I didn’t know them, but I had never ever been that close to people that had died before. I was busy with chores, so I didn’t get to hear much of what was said about them, but I did hear Daddy say it looked like they had cholera, too.

  Captain Faber saw the dead bodies for the first time that morning and he changed his tune real quick. “I ain’t no doctor, but that don’t look like no cholera I’ve ever seen!”

  Daddy was starting to get aggravated. “Well, what else could it be?”

  The captain shook his head real slow. “It’s the devil. The devil done cursed this train. I’ve talked to too many wagoneers in my time and I know it happens.”

  Daddy laughed at him. “I assure you, it’s not the devil. It’s microorganisms.”

  Captain Faber put his finger in my daddy’s face. “I don’t know what the Hell that is, but I’m telling you it’s the devil and you’d better learn how to pray if you want to protect your wife and that pretty little daughter of yours.”

  That morning, me and Boomer set out early to fetch water before breakfast. It was best to get it done before the day got too hot. Daddy started insisting that Boomer go with me and Captain Faber didn’t mind, so we had fun with it. That fourth day was the first time I felt my tummy rumble. Something inside me moved and then moved again and I had this terrible hurting in my belly. Then, I knew what was coming next. I was out close to a small stream all alone except for the dog, so I just let it go. After cleaning myself the best I could, I ran back and found my mother.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  I guess I yelled loud enough for everyone to hear because about six or seven of the men came running when they heard me. Packs of coyotes were out hunting in the late summer and the men always kept a watchful eye at dusk and dawn. I didn’t mean to scare them, but it scared me. Mama was there and the crowd quickly went away after they saw that there was no immediate danger. Captain Faber gave me a bad look, but I was frightened and I just wanted my mommy.

  She gathered me up in her arms, put my head against her chest and stroked my hair. “What is it, child? What’s got you so upset?”

  I started crying. I just couldn’t help it. “I got the cholera, momma.”

  She gasped and grabbed me by the shoulders, sitting me upright in her lap. “Daleela! You don’t be saying things like that if it’s not true!”

  I could feel fresh tears cutting through the dust on my cheeks. I tried to talk, but my lip was quivering and it made it hard. “I was out fetching water and I had the diarrhea, I had it bad. Am I going to die, too?” The dangers of traveling west were suddenly very real to me.

  Mamma cradled my head again and shushed me. “You’ll be okay. We’ll get your daddy to come look at you.”

  “I want to go back home. I want to go back to Georgia!”

  She rocked me for a little longer before daddy showed up at our wagon. Mama told him what was going on and he got out his medical bag. I could hear Faber yelling at him. “Load up! We need to move!”

  “Just a few more minutes!” My daddy and the wagon master were at odds with each other more and more every day. He was listening to my tummy and I could tell he was getting angrier every time he was interrupted.

  I started to feel really, really sick at that point. A pressure started in my chest and rose all the way to the top. I leaned over and vomited into the grass close to our wagon. A pile of beans and bacon splatted against the hard ground and an army of flies was on it before I could even wipe my mouth. Boomer ran up close and sniffed my half-digested breakfast before mamma ran him off.

  “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Daleela. I’ll draw you up some laudanum.”

  Mamma squeezed me a little t
ighter and barked at daddy. “You’re not giving that poison to my baby.”

  The wagon master had walked over to where we were and spat on the ground. “I told you we need to go!”

  “My daughter’s sick.”

  “Yes, she is ill.” The strange voice boomed throughout the camp and we all turned in the direction it came from. None of us had seen the two Indians ride up on our position, not even Boomer. They sat high and proud on horses that were taller than any I had ever seen and I could barely make out their faces in the morning sun.

  I felt mama’s arms grip me a little bit tighter. Captain Faber straightened up and approached them. The one in front was very young and lean with a strong jaw. He was wearing a shirt, not like most of the Indians I had seen. The muscles in his arms where huge and the shirt sleeves barely fit him. The other looked like he was older than dirt. He had a big nose and long, white hair. His clothes weren’t much different from the younger ones.

  Boomer was barking loud and the captain had to shush him up before he could confront our visitors. “You’re Pawnee?”

  The young one nodded his head. “We are.”

  “We’ve not crossed into Pawnee land. What do you want?”

  The young one cast a glance at me and then again at the captain. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is White Thunder, and this is my grandfather, his name does not translate.”

  The captain crossed his arms. He was obviously not happy that they were here. “We’re in a hurry. Come on and state your business.”

  White Thunder looked at his companion and back at Faber. “My grandfather does not speak your language, so I will translate for him.” The old man started speaking in his native tongue. He would pause from time to time to allow his grandson to catch up. “He says that there is a sickness within your group.”

 

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