The Son of Earp Box Set - Books 1-3

by Chuck Buda

  Preacher embraced Sarah, pulling her tight to his chest. He kissed the crown of her head. “I just want what’s best for you, Sarah. For everyone.”

  Sarah felt an electricity pass from his body into hers. Suddenly, she had more energy. She felt stronger than she had in recent memory. The spark enlivened her and made her want to please Preacher. She was relieved to hear his comforting words. Just when she felt like she would break in two and crumble to dust on the floor, Preacher picked her back up and gave her strength to make it a little while longer.

  Preacher backed away from Sarah, still holding her hands. “Listen. I think after the memorial service is over, tomorrow, you should get away for a few days. I will give you some money to go to a lovely hotel somewhere outside of this city. Some time away will help you recover from all the tragedy. Hm?”

  Sarah was speechless. “I can’t take your money, the church’s money for my own enjoyment. It wouldn’t be right. And there’s too much to do. Think about. I wouldn’t be able to relax even if I were to accept such an offer. But I appreciate your generosity.” She kissed Preacher’s cheek.

  “Very well. I will do whatever I can to support you through this trying time.” He lifted her chin, gazing into her eyes. “Now, tonight will be hectic. I imagine folks will crowd inside and we will need to make sure we can accommodate as many people as we can. Can you make sure we find a place for everyone to come inside? I wouldn’t want anyone to miss such an event.”

  Sarah nodded her willingness to help Preacher. She found it odd for him to characterize a memorial service as an event. She didn’t thing the word was appropriate considering the somber nature of the gathering. But Preacher was strange so she let it go as another quirky incident.

  Preacher showed Sarah how he wanted people brought in and gathered as close to the altar as possible. He said his throat was scratchy from yelling and fighting so he wanted people to get closer. They would be able to hear his eulogy better. And he thought folks would feel more consolation being within touching distance of each other. Sarah followed Preacher around the chapel as he pointed out his expectations for the service. He wanted it to be perfect and he told Sarah it would have become a complete failure if it weren’t for her assistance. Preacher confided the recent week had been extremely challenging for him, too. The one thing that got him through all the terrible moments had been Sarah.

  She felt much better since talking to Preacher. She wondered why James couldn’t see the man for who he was. She decided she would try to convince James and Carson one more time to stay.

  Sarah wanted them all to be together.

  Chapter 43

  The townsfolk funneled into the chapel one by one. James stood inside the door, greeting them as they slowly shuffled in. Most of the faces were new. James had never seen these people before. He was shocked to find so many willing to give up their spare time to attend a memorial service for a stranger. He attributed it to the horrific manner in which she was killed rather than their familiarity with Eleanor. After all, they had only been in town for about a week and they hadn’t gotten around town much. James quickly corrected himself as he recalled Eleanor gathering supplies for her lessons and his mother’s efforts to bring more people to church.

  James accepted the whispered condolences. He shook hands with the men and received hugs or kisses on the cheek from the women. Everyone was very solemn, yet polite. And the room began to fill.

  Sarah smiled at him from across the chapel. James chose to remain expressionless with his mother. The betrayal he felt was still strong. He watched her usher folks into the first few rows of pews. She helped an older woman sit down. The hunched woman had been very slow when she entered the chapel and James guessed she must be very frail if she needed help to sit down.

  James glanced at Carson, who sat by himself in the last row. His little friend held the deck of cards in his hands. James watched his little fingers stroke the edge of the deck. He tried to imagine what Carson was feeling. The poor kid had been through so many traumatic events. But he hung in there. James thought Carson was quite a trooper. He still worried about his fragile psyche. James made a mental note to console Carson when they got on the road.

  The road.

  The thought tugged James back to the argument he had with his mother. He couldn’t believe he said all those things to his mother. He loved her so much. But, the more he reflected on what he said, it truly represented his feelings. He was honest about how disappointed he was in her. He understood her loneliness and her human desires. But couldn’t she understand how things appeared to him? To Carson? Wasn’t a parent supposed to sacrifice for the good of their children? James regretted leaving Wichita for this horrible city. He should have known a bigger town would offer more problems.

  It’s my fault.

  The guilt returned as it bit into his soul. The worst part of all these fights and problems was the fact that he had brought it upon them. He wanted adventures and to live on the edge like his father. James saw his name in headlines and whispered in saloons as he strolled in. It was ridiculous. None of those things happened. He felt jaded and wished he good go back to boyhood daydreams. It had been so much simpler back then. Adulthood wasn’t fun at all.

  Preacher entered the chapel from the hallway near his bedroom. James glowered at the false holy man. The holy man who kept blood hidden in drawers. The holy man who took his mother’s innocence. James wasn’t naive enough to think his mother was a virgin, but the men she had been with was to earn money to live. To survive. It was work. Not emotional. Preacher should have known better than to steal such a thing from their family.

  Preacher returned James’ glance. Their eyes met and James thought the Preacher smirked at him. It was difficult to be sure from such a distance but he couldn’t help feeling it was the case. The man appeared to be glowing, almost lucid. His skin was whiter than a fluffy cloud. And the red hair was brighter too. It looked like flames upon his scalp. James snickered to himself. Maybe Carson saw what he did right now. It was more understandable now to see why Carson may have thought he saw flames.

  Gunderson filled the door frame. James extended his hand until Gunderson yanked James into his smelly chest. His arms strangled James, cutting off his air supply more than his body odor. Gunderson released James and offered a few words of condolences. He told James not to worry about coming back to work at the Trading Post. Gunderson said James and Carson should take as much time as they needed before returning to work. James started to tell Gunderson how he and Carson were leaving town right after the memorial service. But he figured it wasn’t the time or the place to discuss it. James forced a smile and watched Gunderson shuffle along the long line of people looking for seats within the pews.

  James wondered how he could inform Gunderson about his new plans. He thought it might be better to scrawl a note and slip it under the Trading Post door instead. That way Gunderson wouldn’t be able to talk James out of leaving. And he could avoid the awkwardness of telling the only man in town who cared about him that he was walking away from a good job and a family atmosphere. James would miss Gunderson. Not his smells or nasty habits. Just the man.

  The chapel was nearly full and the line was still out the door. James shook his head in amazement at the number of people, complete strangers who had come to share in their grief. The room kept swelling and James felt perspiration line his forehead. The huge crowd of humanity sucked up every last ounce of air, leaving the chapel a hot mess.

  James looked at the altar. Preacher stood in the center with his hands laced together as if he were praying. He nodded to folks as they filled up the pews and even the center and right side aisles. There was not an inch of unused space in the chapel. It was something to see, James thought. He watched Preacher continue to greet the full house. It definitely looked like he was smiling. A smile inappropriate for such an occasion. James wished he could wipe the smile right from Preacher’s face. The man could be pleased to finally fill his chapel some other t
ime.

  Right now he needed to show respect. For Eleanor. And James.

  His mother continued to help folks find seats. She worked hard to ensure people could fit inside for the service, and be comfortable. He thought Eleanor would be happy to see her so dedicated to a lovely service.

  James faced the door and saw the line coming to an end. By his estimation, the chapel would be filled to the point that he might have to stand in the doorway in order to be part of the ceremony.

  He wished it would all be over soon.

  Chapter 44

  The chapel had filled up. Preacher watched James close the door. It looked like James could barely fit inside the packed room. Too bad, he thought. If only a few more people had shown up then James would have been forced to stand outside. It would have been a perfect twist on the event.

  Preacher cleared his throat. He wore his most solemn expression and pretended to dab at the corner of his eye. Up to this moment, Preacher had fought off the Dark One’s advances. The beast smelled the fresh meat and couldn’t contain itself any longer. With the extra power at his disposal, Preacher had channeled the Dark One’s energy for his own consumption. The Dark One was not pleased.

  The time had come to begin the end. Preacher scanned the faces in front of him. Folks dressed in black, watery eyes and serious countenances embodied their attendance. He was pleased to see so many, knowing the larger than expected crowd would push the feeding to new heights.

  “Thank you for coming tonight.” He started the eulogy and paused for effect. “It is with heavy hearts that we gather to honor a young woman. Stranger to most, yet tragic to all.”

  GET ON WITH IT!

  “Eleanor Lark was robbed of her life, and her beauty by an evil so cowardly, that it chooses to remain in the dark. Hidden from our condemning sight.”

  FEED ME NOW! OR I WILL RIP YOU ASUNDER.

  Preacher choked. His face broke out in sweat as he felt the Dark One start to burn him. He dropped to one knee momentarily, eliciting some gasps from the crowd. The itching filled his pores and burrowed within his skin, making it difficult to concentrate on his words.

  “Forgive me.” He pulled himself up to continue. “I am...sickened...as we all are, by this tragedy.” Preacher dabbed the sweat from his face. The room appeared to swim and warp around him. The candle flames flickered in evil shapes and laughter taunted him from all around.

  “Where was I?” He glanced at Sarah who stood off to the left of the altar. Her hand before her mouth to stifle her surprise at his condition. His seeming loss of control. He suddenly wished he had more vials of blood to pump through his system.

  “This isn’t the time!” Preacher screamed over the altar at the faces. They all leaned back, shocked at his shouting. He quieted down. “This isn’t the time...for us to question the...the...the Lord.”

  Pain seared through his temples, shooting behind his eyes from one side of his head to the other. Preacher winced and clutched the altar. Another gasp from the folks in the room. He stole a glance at James. James tried to wriggle his way through the mass of humanity. To reach the front, but he could only get so far with all the bodies in his way.

  I AM YOUR LORD! DO NOT TALK OF OTHERS!

  “Lord...Lord...forgive me.” Preacher strained against the forces in his skull. He had been over-confident that he held the upper hand with the Dark One. He had been very wrong. Preacher watched the crowd leaning closer as if they wanted to step up and help him. “I...am...weak...” Preacher finished the sentence in his head. No longer. He had tried to finish by saying ‘no longer’ but the Dark One clutched at his throat.

  James pushed his way closer, again getting caught in between large men who blocked his path. Preacher grinned through the pain at James. He could try all he wants to stop me but he won’t succeed, he thought.

  DO IT NOW YOU WORTHLESS VESSEL! YOU WERE A FOOL TO THINK YOU COULD SAVE YOUR MOTHER’S LIFE BY SERVING MY NEEDS.

  The laughter filled his skull. Preacher clutched at the altar and leaned back. He stared at the scared faces. He began to channel the powers, feeling the burn inside his veins. His body trembled as the exertion of energy rattled through his limbs. Preacher struggled to keep his eyes open against the overwhelming pain, only able to make them slits.

  A few people in the chapel began to faint. Others grasped their heads as something inexplicable reached into their heads. The feeling of creeping fingers, swirling around in their brains.

  Preacher shouted within his mind. This is what you wanted. Some come and get it. I am delivering your final request so that my mother can rest in heaven where she belongs. His eyes fluttered and spittle flew from his lips.

  The laughter became louder, more insistent. It rumbled in Preacher’s head. A drip of blood trickled from his nostril.

  YOU FOOL! YOUR MOTHER IS HERE WITH ME. FOR ALL ETERNITY. YOU WILL SOON BE REUNITED WITH HER.

  Preacher cried, or at least, he felt the extreme sorrow of learning the truth. His body was so racked with pain that crying wasn’t possible. He screamed out in defiance. He called the Dark One a traitor, a coward. It only led to increased laughter and burning inside his chest the likes of which he never fathomed possible. Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!

  He focused his vision on the large man in the center of the crowd. Gunderson. From the Trading Post. He harnessed the burning flames and directed it at the large man. Preacher willed the transfer of heat to Gunderson. The large man began to shake and twitch. Drool bubbled up on his lips and flowed down his chin. His eyes rolled back in their sockets, revealing only the whites, lined with red blood vessels. Gunderson’s body contorted into a shape which could not be possible in an earthly world.

  Preacher felt some strength returning to him. The transfer worked to an extent. But the real feat would be pulling all the souls inside himself. Preacher wanted to complete his task. Not for the Dark One. Not for his mother’s soul. For himself. He would suck the souls and then use the powers against the Dark One.

  He noticed movement to his right. James was shoving his way through the crowd to reach the altar. Preacher started laughing. His face contorted into a pained expression even though laughter came from his mouth.

  Chapter 45

  James watched Preacher struggle with the eulogy. Preacher had difficulties speaking. He fell to a knee and seemed to tremble with some ailment which only he was privy to. James worked his way through the crowd until he was stone-walled by a few bigger men. He tapped one man on the shoulder to ask permission to cut through. But the man never acknowledged James’ request. It was as if the man didn’t even know James had tapped him.

  He shot a glance at his mother. She looked frightened. She held her mouth as she watched Preacher stumble through the words. As angry as he was at her, James wanted to call out to his mother. James wished to signal her somehow, maybe get her to leave the chapel before something bad happened. At the very least, get her attention to have her move back. Away from the altar.

  James shoved his way through the large men using his shoulder. Neither man bothered to look at him. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed them staring at Preacher with an iced-over stare. He found it strange but their lack of reaction was in line with his gut. James knew something was wrong. He felt the energy surge, a change in the balance of the chapel, even before he made his way forward.

  He tried to look back for Carson but he realized there would be no chance of finding the little boy with all the large bodies in the way. James turned his attention to Preacher. The man’s fiery red hair appeared to sizzle. He thought it might be a trick of his eyes. Sweat poured off Preacher’s face. His teeth rattled together as he held on for dear life.

  James glanced to his right. Townsfolk were entranced by the Preacher. They hung on every word he said, as disjointed as it was. Their eyes stared off to some distant spot, impossible for a tiny room such as the chapel. He caught a bizarre motion out of the corner of his eye. James witnessed Gunderson twitching and dribbling. His eyes spun ar
ound, making him look like a scary monster. Nobody surrounding Gunderson took notice of his condition. They continued to follow Preacher at the front of the room.

  James knew he had to act. Quickly. He shoved people aside as he tried to reach Preacher. He knocked over an elderly woman, the same one who could barely make it in the door. She was the lady his mother had helped take a seat. He didn’t worry about her feelings or well-being. If he didn’t get to Preacher soon, then he feared everybody would be in a state of pain.

  As he lunged forward, a force shot through James’ chest. It locked him place. He suddenly found it hard to breathe, but he didn’t panic. The feeling was like holding his breath under water, knowing he could poke his head above the surface whenever he wanted. He sensed that wasn’t the case though.

  James fought to free himself from the invisible shackles. The power was too strong for him to overcome it. James was aware of all the sounds and sights around him. He just had no ability to take action. He was stuck in a perpetual state of immobility. Like being buried alive.

  He tried to scream for his mother or Carson. The voice was loud inside his head. Nothing came from his throat. James watched Preacher start to burn. The flames started on the palms of his hands, burning the altar in his grasp. Then fire shot up from his face and head. A fiery demon stood where a simple man had just seconds before.

  James felt it in his belly. Preacher was not a holy man. He was a demon. And he knew in his bones Preacher meant to kill them all. At this moment. James sensed his eyes opening wide, trying to fight the power which had a hold of his body.

  One by one, the people around James began to crackle and pop. They looked at their hands, their palms burning up too. Flesh peeled back and bones were revealed. James knew this is what happened to Eleanor. They had found her without skin on her hands. But her eyes were gone. Before the thought finished, James heard blistering pops. Vitriolic liquid sprayed from eye sockets as the people in the chapel lost their sight. Eyes shot out of skulls while burning hands waved in front of them. The vision was nauseating.