Their view was actually the generous one of people in the city, where many advocated wholesale slaughter of the native inhabitants. But Miranda had bristled anyway, barely keeping her tongue until they were gone.
“All we want is to be left in peace!” she’d said.
Which wasn’t exactly true either. The Indians were as divided in their view of the white man as the reverse. Some wanted to push him back to the ocean. Others wanted the goods he brought with him as he expanded west. Jules hadn’t bothered to fight with her on this. Politics was never her area of expertise.
But there was something she wanted to know more about.
“You talked about Luke not being the man I thought he was,” she said to Will. “What did you mean by that?”
Will brushed dirt off his uniform, not that it helped much. He was covered in dust and grime.
“Do you mean to say you really don’t know?” Will asked. “Why would you employ a man without knowing his history?”
Both Rezzor and Jules started laughing at the same time.
“Banditry ain’t exactly a job you apply for, Will,” Jules said. “He was working for Rezzor already.”
“He wasn’t,” Rezzor said. “That was Gilroy’s fool idea. I never would’ve trusted one of his kind.”
Jules didn’t bother to ask why. Rezzor hated all men of other races: blacks, Indians, Mexicans, Chinese, you name it. He’d tolerated some within her father’s gang only because Trent had made it clear he must.
Her father’s views on other races was somewhat more complicated. He seemed to hate all men equally until they could prove themselves with a gun. After that, they were fine with him regardless.
“So who is he?” Jules asked.
“The last remaining member of the Kid’s gang,” Will said.
Jules stared at him. “That can’t be right. My father—”
“— and he rode together,” Will said. “He didn’t mention that?”
No, he hadn’t, and it cast Luke in an entirely new light. Suddenly, his willingness to head to the Maelstrom made more sense. The Kid had been many things—mostly a mystery, underneath his bandanna and hard eyes—but his crew was notoriously loyal. The Kid wouldn’t tolerate backstabbing or betrayals among those that rode with him. He’d allegedly tied the first man who tried to a rock to let the scavengers eat him alive. That seemed to drive the message home.
But why wouldn’t Luke mention something like that? If anything, it would have made her trust him more. He might be genuinely interested in saving her father.
“Well, he was,” Will said. “There’s still technically a warrant out for the Kid.”
“He’s dead,” Jules and Rezzor said at once.
“You sure?”
“Old Trent mentioned that,” Rezzor said. “He didn’t talk much about those days, but he spoke of the Kid in the past tense.”
Jules nodded her agreement.
“If you say so,” Will said. “He’s long before my time. Last known robbery by him was more than twenty years ago. But Luke was with him. Word is he’s an escaped slave. He’s no ordinary bounty hunter, Jules. He has a peculiar moral code. He’s not in it for the money.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s he in it for?”
“Justice, I’ve heard tell,” Will said. “That’s why I was surprised to see him here. The Army has been known to hire him from time to time to hunt down particular fugitives. We know of his past, but he’s more valuable as a tool of the law rather than its prisoner.”
“Particular fugitives?” Miranda asked.
“The worst of the worst,” Will said. “We hire him to find them for us. When he does, he either brings them in himself or tells us where to go. I have no idea what he’s doing out here with you.”
Will’s comments raised another disturbing possibility in her mind. Maybe he wasn’t there to rescue her father, but bring him in? Trent had often been described as “the worst of the worst,” though that wasn’t the case. Jules had known plenty far more despicable than him. Her father, too, lived by what Will had called a “peculiar moral code.”
Her thoughts were interrupted as the carriage came to a halt near the canyon where Jules had originally planned her ambush.
Will jumped out of his seat, muttering, “What’s wrong now?” as he passed.
Another soldier came to the window. “There’s a rider approaching!”
Will glanced at Rezzor. “Another friend of yours?”
“God, I hope so,” he replied, grinning that terrible smile of his.
“He’s bluffing,” Jules said. “If it really were his man, he’d be trying to convince you it wasn’t.”
Rezzor shot her a nasty look, and she was at least glad to wipe the smile from his face.
“Couldn’t let me have a little bit of fun, could you?”
Will climbed out of the carriage, raising a rifle to his chest. “I’ll be damned. Speak of the devil.”
“It’s Luke?” Jules asked.
“Unless you know another black man riding a stolen Army horse around these parts,” Will replied. “What the hell is he up to? He’s riding at us like there’s a band of demons on his trail.”
The soldier next to Will drew his weapon, but Will pushed it down. “He’s not the type to hit us full on in front,” Will said. “He’d shoot from the shadows if that was his aim.”
Jules wanted to see, but when she tried to move forward, another soldier pushed her gently back into place.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Will said. “But he’s coming in an awful hurry. We’ll find out soon.”
Jules didn’t like it. If Luke rode back, he’d be captured, something he’d likely want to avoid at all cost. Something was very wrong. She glanced nervously at Miranda.
“He’s coming right at us!” the soldier outside yelled.
“He doesn’t have his gun out,” Will said. “Let’s—”
Jules could hear the horse now, galloping hard. She heard Luke arrive, his horse coming to a quick stop just in front of Will.
“Abandon the coach. Ride north,” Luke said. “Do it now, Colonel.”
“What in the Sam Hill are you talking about?” Will asked.
“There’s a storm coming,” Luke said. “A bad one. And it’s headed right toward you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Our attitude has changed in the past two years. It is our opinion that if what locals call the Maelstrom is not dealt with soon, it will become a massive problem for the government and U.S. Army. The creatures inside it are bolder, and their numbers have swelled. There used to be reports of a dozen or so flying on each storm—now they number in the hundreds.”
— Second Congressional report on “Happenings in the Dakota Territory,” dated 1883. Stamped SECRET.
Both Miranda and Jules sat up. Even Rezzor’s smug expression was wiped away, replaced by a look of alarm.
“Did he say a storm is coming?” Rezzor asked.
Jules didn’t bother to respond, but scrambled out of the carriage, pushing open the door, which had been helpfully left ajar by Will, with her foot. The soldier next to her tried to stop her, but she shrugged off his grasp.
Will was looking into the distance. “I don’t see—” he said, and then cut off.
The sky was still bright and cloudless around most of them, except far to the west along the trail. Ahead of them in the far distance was a black, angry-looking cloud.
“It’ll move off by the time we get there,” Will said.
“This is no ordinary storm, Colonel,” Luke said. “It’s a tempest. And it’s coming straight for us.”
Will shook his head. “That’s not—”
“Abandon the carriage,” Jules said. “Do it now, Will. Every man to a horse and let’s ride north, like Luke suggested.”
Will glanced at her, his eyes narrowing.
“And I suppose I should just leave the paymaster’s box sitting here?” he
said.
“Yes! Dammit, Will, that doesn’t matter anymore. Look at me! We have to ride out of here now! Or what’s left of your command is going to die.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Once again, she could see the fight within him over whether to trust her or not. This time—finally—she seemed to win out. Will turned to the nearby soldier.
“Round up the men,” Will said. “We’re abandoning the carriage.”
“Cut me loose, Will!” Jules said.
But he ignored her, instead giving orders to the men around them. Jules looked around as they began to move, and spotted both Onyx and Conchita behind the carriage. The soldiers must have found them when they were rounding up the horses after the fight. Jules whistled and her horse trotted up beside her, still wearing her saddle.
When Jules looked back toward the horizon, the black cloud was noticeably closer. The wind started to pick up around her, blowing her blond hair backwards.
Miranda exited the carriage, looking to the horizon. The more Jules stared at the cloud, the closer it seemed to fit her sister’s description. It was like a massive black hand stretching toward them, and coming fast. She could see flashes of light, and the sound of thunder rolled toward them.
She struggled with the rope behind her, trying to force it apart. But the soldiers had tied it tight this time and it wouldn’t budge.
“We can’t outrun that,” Miranda said.
“Well, we can damn well try,” Jules replied.
Around them, the men were grabbing supplies from the wagon. Jules wanted to scream at them not to bother. None of it would matter if they couldn’t escape what was coming.
“Will!” she shouted instead. “Cut. Me. Loose. We need to ride out of here and that can’t happen if I’m trussed up.”
Will looked at her and Miranda as a gust of wind blew through the canyon. The thunder grew louder, echoing off the canyon walls. It sounded like a hundred storms were bearing down on them.
Will came over and motioned for her to turn around. She complied, holding out her hands as he pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut her free.
“Don’t make me regret this, Jules.”
As soon as she was free, she turned and grabbed the knife from Will. He looked surprised and alarmed, but she used it to free Miranda.
“What about me?” Rezzor yelled as a soldier pushed him out of the carriage.
Jules shook her head. “I won’t shoot you in the back. Rezzor will.”
“Get him on the horse behind you. Keep him tied,” Will said to the soldier.
By the time Jules looked up again—no more than a minute later—the storm was closer. It was rolling in at incredible speed and appeared to stretch in front of them across the entire horizon.
“Mount up!” Will yelled.
Most of the men were already mounted. Jules spared a look back at the paymaster’s loot, but thoughts of taking it with her vanished as another rumble of thunder echoed down the canyon.
She felt droplets of rain against her skin. She pulled up on Onyx, the horse neighing nervously and pawing at the ground as she did so. Miranda got on Conchita.
“We ride east out of the canyon and then break north!” Will yelled. “With any luck, the storm will continue on the current path and we’ll get out of it before the storm wall hits.”
There was only a slim chance of that. Jules looked into a churning mass of black headed right for them. Lights flashed in the darkness inside as thunder boomed all around them.
“Ride!” Will screamed.
She needed no more encouragement. The motley collection of men, women and horses rode back along the trail they’d come. It was directly away from the storm, but not the direction they were hoping to go. The problem was the canyon. They were hemmed in on both sides, with only high canyon wall around them.
Onyx was in a dead gallop with Conchita just behind her. Jules was pretty sure Will was supposed to be in the lead, but Jules didn’t care.
They reached the edge of the canyon within a few minutes and Jules was thankful they hadn’t made it further in. Immediately, she broke across the plains to the left, headed north as Will had suggested.
She glanced back to see her sister keeping pace, with Luke not far behind. Will followed just after, but some of his men struggled to keep up.
They’d barely made it a few hundred yards when the rain began coming down harder. It turned from spurts of droplets into a driving, pounding rain.
Jules was suddenly having trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of her. She leaned forward to grab onto Onyx’s mane. She stole a look to the side to see the wall of black, lightning flashing inside of it.
She squeezed her legs together and focused on going faster.
The wind came in great gusts, kicking up dust and dirt everywhere. Jules rode harder than she’d ever managed in the past, hoping that they could break free of the storm. With luck, they could escape the worst of it.
But when she looked to the side, the dark cloud was almost on top of her, and she realized the storm was doing the impossible. It appeared to be following them.
The very thought was insane. It had been headed directly east. Yet just as they turned and headed north, the black cloud above them had done the same.
Logically, she knew storms couldn’t be directed or controlled. They went where they pleased. But this one appeared pleased to pursue them.
She’d already lost track of the riders furthest behind. They’d vanished inside the black mass of wind, rain and dust.
She could see Rezzor riding behind a soldier, his hands now tied to the front so he could hold on. Will and Luke rode abreast of those two, while Miranda edged just ahead.
But the storm was gaining too fast, and the rain and terrain were slowing them too much. Moreover, she thought she spotted several sets of red eyes staring in the darkness of the cloud. Vipers.
As she watched, one of the soldiers just behind Rezzor fell further back, closer to the storm wall. For a moment, he seemed able to stay ahead of the storm, but it was almost as if it sucked him backwards inside of it. One minute he was there, the next he was gone.
She tacked northeast, hoping the storm’s change of direction was a bizarre fluke. But after a few minutes, it was clear the storm had adjusted course again.
Looking ahead in the distance, she saw a towering mountain in front of them. She galloped toward it as fast as she could. Maybe they could find a crevice to take shelter inside. She had visions of cowering inside some tunnel, keeping the Vipers at bay long enough for the storm to pass overhead.
But she could now see that the plains between her and the mountain were broken by a ravine in front of her. Likely it was a river snaking just past the mountain.
She had little chance to study the ravine, but it appeared to be too far across to jump. If they kept going northeast, they’d race right off a cliff. She had no way of knowing how high it was. It was probably enough to kill them.
But if they turned again, they were dead. They were barely able to stay ahead of the black cloud behind them. Turning further to the east might help them run along the river, but it would allow the storm to catch up.
She thought of the attack on the bank—the memory of those creatures crawling across the ceiling toward her.
She made her decision. She kicked Onyx’s sides, urging the horse forward, riding straight for the cliff’s edge. She heard shouting behind her. Will probably thought she didn’t see it. Maybe he wanted to take their chances in the storm. But she had no intention of doing that.
She gave one quick glance back, enough to see the black cloud almost on top of them. She couldn’t make out Miranda’s expression, but her sister was right behind her. She waved and gestured forward, letting them know that this was part of the plan.
Then she faced forward and raced to the cliff’s edge. It was twenty feet, then ten. And Onyx, perhaps sensing the monstrosity that gave chase behind them, never wavered or hesitated.
&n
bsp; Jules rode right off the cliff.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Beyond fortune telling, I’m unclear on exactly what this so-called ‘Lady of Shadows’ actually did. Was she just a soothsayer, peddling prophecy for coin? Or something more? It’s admittedly speculative, but her presence at so many varied historical events suggests the latter. She was up to something, but exactly what remains unclear.”
— Terry Jacobsen, “A History of the Supernatural,” 2013
Black water came rushing to meet Jules as she plunged toward the river. She had no time to think or adjust, just fall.
She felt an icy stab of pain as she and her horse crashed into the water. She had enough presence of mind to be grateful the water was deep. They both splashed into the water, and then were immediately swept downstream in a raging current. She frantically clutched at Onyx’s reins, desperate to stay with her horse, but was pulled off. As rain began pouring down from above, Onyx was gone in a swirl of water.
Jules tried to keep her head above water, fighting to draw air, but her leg caught on a jagged boulder. She pulled it free, only to scrape herself against more rocks as she was tossed downstream.
She briefly fought to the surface and glanced back, trying to see her sister, Will or anyone else. She glimpsed another horse—this one with two riders on it, one of whom must have been Rezzor—race over the cliff above. But instead of falling off the edge, the black storm cloud beyond closed in. A dozen Vipers flew out of it, grabbing at the horse and riders. They pulled all three into the storm cloud.
It was the last thing Jules saw before she was sucked underneath the water. She tried to see anything, stretching forth her arms to find purchase on a rock that could arrest her movement.
But as she flailed, her head collided with a nearby rock. Everything spun into blackness.
*****
Jules woke up coughing, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe. She vomited up water along the rocky banks of the river.
She didn’t remember traveling downstream. She looked up to see Miranda stumbling over several large rocks, rushing toward her. Jules scanned the area desperately, feeling for the gun still in her holster. The tempest. She had to worry about the storm.
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