Ghost Mine

by Hunter Shea

  “We’re riding them past these big old bastards and shutting the gates down.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “Since we got down here, it’s the sanest thing I’ve seen. Mount up. We may need you.” Angus was already on his Djinn horse. He had to move next to Matthias to help him up. “Let’s go!”

  I gave the Djinn a kick and it took off, accelerating like no living horse. My hat flew from my head and we galloped headlong into the brouhaha. A tongue punched the ground ahead of us and the Djinn swerved around it, taking us to the side of the tunnel and riding along it, past another monster as it swiped at our heads. I looked down to see Angus and Matthias weaving between the uncountable legs of the creatures.

  Gripping on to the Djinn’s black mane with everything I had, I fought to keep myself from slipping off its back. If I did, I was going to tumble off the side of the wall. It was a hell of a long fall. I didn’t want to get this far, only to die from a tumble off a Djinn horse.

  I yelped when we made it past the line of monsters and saw the fiery opening ahead. The Djinn kept its breakneck pace and guided us back to the ground. Angus and Matthias pulled up beside us.

  A lone man stood before the gate, his arms crossed over his chest. The Djinn horses pulled up and stopped.

  We dismounted. The devil stood not more than ten paces away. He was not happy.

  But neither was I.

  “Still having fun?” I asked.

  The devil sneered and hissed.

  “Vile serpent,” Matthias whispered.

  “How dare you,” the devil said.

  “You’re the one who wanted to play,” I said. “We just changed the rules a little.”

  The devil burst into flame with a loud whoosh. As the flames died, the exterior of the man he’d worn melted away. In its place was, I assume, his true form. He was deformed beyond imagination, his limbs twisted and gnarled. Sickly yellow eyes burned from a face lined with scars and pockmarks. His flesh was the color of a corpse burned by the sun. His teeth, rows and rows of them, gleamed white.

  He was death made flesh.

  “I can close the gate,” Angus said softly.

  I didn’t see how. The fissure itself was forty, fifty feet high and encased in flame. “Keep Satan occupied.”

  For a moment, I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. My hand moved to my hip, inches from my holster. I looked the devil in his jaundiced eyes and said, “You and me have something to settle.”

  “If you’re talking about your death and eternal damnation, I agree.”

  I shook my head. “Back up in the real world, I was an officer of the law. I can’t say I enjoyed it so much, but I did like the part about righting wrongs. The city has strange, inefficient ways of handling justice, though. I like it better out here, without lawyers and judges. What’s right is right, and what’s wrong, well, usually ends up hanging at the end of a rope or standing on the wrong side of a gun.”

  The devil chuckled.

  “I’m going to shit your soul, over and over, until this world is nothing but dust.”

  “Are you sweet-talking me?”

  That wiped the smile from his hideous face. Matthias took his Bible from his vest pocket and took one step from me. “I don’t think mocking Satan is such a good idea,” he said.

  “You have a better idea?”

  Angus had crept off to the side, using the Djinn horse to conceal his movements. The devil paid him no mind. He only had eyes for me. Angus managed to get past where the devil stood and was making his way to the opening.

  “You’ll suffer more than Christ when I’m through with you,” the devil said.

  “We do have the same father. Look, I might as well come clean and let you know that I’m about as afraid of you as I am of a field of flowers. I heard you’ve been beat here before. Looks to me that you’re ripe for a repeat.”

  The devil roared. It sounded like the cries of hundreds of tortured men. Fire erupted from his eyes, a deadly line of flame directed at me.

  “Look out!” Matthias shouted.

  He jumped in front of me, holding the Bible outward. The flame slammed into the Bible, sending him crashing into my chest. We tumbled across the ground. My ribs felt like they’d been broken.

  Matthias lay sprawled next to me. The Bible had been reduced to ash. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Smoke wafted off his body.

  The devil laughed, licking his lips over his rows of teeth.

  “Pretty easy to hurt a man who only has a book to defend himself.” I saw the fire build in his eyes.

  Getting to my feet, I grunted when I straightened, my ribs poking into my lungs. I wanted to cough, but I knew if I did I might pass out.

  I stared back at him, hoping he could see the anger that burned in my own eyes. We stood, motionless, staring at one another. I could feel his hatred.

  Flames sputtered from his eyes, coiling over his head.

  He geared up to take his final shot at me. No more playing around. We’d taken things too far and he was no longer amused or entertained by me.

  My body relaxed as I exhaled.

  I drew my pistol and fired twice.

  The devil staggered back, his hands clutching his face. When he pulled them away, it was my time to smile.

  Two direct hits. Thick gobs of yellow pus dripped from his shattered eye sockets and down his black and grey cheeks.

  The sound of hammering echoed in the tunnel. I looked up. Angus was held above the gateway by the Djinn. It had once again taken the form of a wild man. Angus hammered his bare fist against the arch, and bits of rock tumbled down.

  Holy shit. He was going to bring it all down by himself.

  * * *

  Angus punched and jabbed at the stone with all of his might. The entrance groaned as more rocks were dislodged, falling into the flames.

  A large crack zigzagged across the entire arch. Angus saw it, and the Djinn moved him closer so he could concentrate his fury on the weakened spot.

  I looked into the chamber of my pistol. One shot left.

  “Angus!” I shouted.

  I raised the gun, aiming at the widest part of the fissure. He nodded, and moved back.

  I pulled the trigger and watched the rock explode. There was a tremendous crack and it all began to crumble like loose shale. Angus continued working on it, knocking boulders loose. His hands were a bloody mess, but he never let up.

  “You fucker!” the devil said. His eyes were back, but it was too late. The gates were closing. The boulders doused the flames.

  “Guess you’ll have to find someone else to shit out for eternity.”

  Angus and the Djinn hung from the arch. Together, they dislodged the weakened rock face. The ground rumbled as the cave-in thundered in a shower of stone and smoke.

  “No!” I shouted.

  Angus swung one last time. Everything gave way and he lost his grip.

  The big man tumbled through the air, his body bouncing off the great falling rocks until he disappeared amidst the crumbling rubble.

  Smoke and dust filled the tunnel like a wild fire. I dove over Matthias.

  The bones in Satan’s body cracked like fireworks. He twisted round himself like a snake around a tree branch. He pointed a long, sharp finger at me. I winced, expecting flames to shoot from his finger, but nothing happened.

  A great wind came from nowhere and everywhere, all at once. It pushed at my back as it was drawn into the rapidly closing gates of hell. I had to lay as flat as I could over Matthias to keep from getting picked up by the wind like a toy kite.

  In the maelstrom, the devil rose, struggling to stay erect. He took an uneven step toward me.

  I had nothing left to defend myself. If I so much as tried to push myself up, I was going to be carried by the hurricane straight into the bowels of hell. />
  I heard more of the tunnel collapse around the fissure. Black smoke choked the air. The devil sneered against the backdrop of unholy carnage.

  And then he spread his distorted arms wide, letting the wind carry his wicked body home.

  In the darkness, I heard great beasts roaring and flailing, felt the tunnel quake like it was going to explode.

  It hurt to breathe, and when I did draw in air, it was tainted with dust. I couldn’t stop coughing. The pain was excruciating. My mind, mercifully, went black.

  Chapter Sixty

  “Nat?”

  Something touched my face. I tried to swat it away. “Nat?”

  The pain was back in my chest. I wanted to curse whoever had resurrected that particular agony.

  “Please, Nat, wake up.” Selma.

  I opened my eyes. Her face hovered over me. Her tears dripped onto my forehead. “Oh thank God,” she cried, cradling my head in her lap.

  “Is it—”

  “Yes.”

  It hurt to move, but I forced myself to look over to the opening. The smoke had settled and hovered a few inches above the ground. A great pile of rocks and boulders covered the entrance.

  “Angus?” I said.

  “I haven’t seen him.”

  He hadn’t made it. I think he knew that all along. Never once did he hesitate. I was sorry I’d never get the chance to know him better.

  Someone groaned and I saw Matthias move onto his back, coughing. “He saved my life,” I said.

  Selma smiled. “You saved everyone.”

  The tunnel glowed with the presence of the spirits and black-eyed children. They surrounded us, sealing us in a cocoon of warmth. Now that hell’s fires had been extinguished, the tunnel had grown mighty cold.

  “They’re going to show us the way out,” Selma said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “They told me.”

  “And the Djinn?”

  “They left. I don’t know where. One minute they were there, the next they disappeared in a cloud of smoke.”

  She helped me up and, together, we were able to get Matthias standing. His eyes rolled in his head and he couldn’t talk yet, which was a good thing.

  The spirits guided us through the tunnel. The demon bodies were gone. It was as if they’d never been there. I saw Teta lying unconscious. I tried to lift him, but the pain in my ribs was too much.

  The spirit children gathered round him and picked him up. It didn’t look like he was breathing at all. The stump where his arm used to be was a charred mess.

  “Lead the way,” I said to them.

  Together, we walked for what felt like miles until we emerged into the bright sun.

  Birds flew in crazy circles above the mine entrance. They whistled and chirped and sang.

  It felt like the perfect time for the clouds to burst and the rain to finally come down and wash away all of the evil that had gripped the land for so long.

  The sun blazed in a cloudless sky.

  Who the hell was I to tell the weather what to do?

  The wildfire from the night before had burned itself out. The trees were black and twisted and smoking. The air was bitter, but, damn, it was fresher than anything down in the tunnels.

  I peered into the dark mineshaft.

  Goodbye, Lucille. I hope somehow your soul broke free like the others. I’ll pray for you every day.

  An orange-breasted robin landed by our feet, cocked its head and twittered.

  “I never thought I’d appreciate that music so much,” I said before collapsing on the hot, dry ground. Teta was laid next to me and the children and adult spirits slowly disappeared. I hoped it was to a place of rest, somewhere they could have a hell of a family reunion.

  I wished Angus was with us to watch them dissipate into the sun’s rays. After all I’d seen, I figured he was somewhere close, enjoying the moment.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  We pulled outside the gates of Sagamore Hill. Winter was still a week away, but it had already snowed the night before.

  Matthias was at the wheel of his new automobile, a Buffum Model E touring car. Unlike the one he’d driven to Hecla, this one had a roof, but it was still pretty open to the elements. We draped blankets over ourselves during the drive.

  I got out of the car, my boots crunching in the snow.

  Selma leaned into me and said, “Do you want me to go inside with you? I can’t lie and say it wouldn’t be a thrill to meet the president.”

  “Not this time, darling. I promise, another time.”

  I turned to face the snow-covered estate. I could see the soft glow of a fire in one of the windows and a track of Teddy’s prints marching to and from the house. The man had to walk, no matter the weather, day or night. He just couldn’t sit still.

  I pulled up the collar of my coat and kicked the side of the car. “Be careful, Nat!” Matthias said.

  “I didn’t hurt your precious car. I wonder what Jesus would say about your lust for something as material as a car.”

  “He’d say if it made me happy and didn’t hurt anyone in the process, it made him happy.” I shook my head.

  “You coming or what?”

  Teta woke up with a snort. The arm of his jacket was pinned to his side. I helped him from the car. He was still weak, but he would get better. The infection in his arm had kept him in a hospital for two months. Selma and I brought him back to the ranch in September and helped build him back up to strength. Her father played cards with him and Matthias every night. For the first time in my life, it felt like I had a family, even if our kids, for now, were a one-armed Dominican and an itinerant reverend who looked for ghosts.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  I kissed Selma and told Matthias to keep the car running. We wouldn’t be long.

  Teta and I walked up the path to the estate. Our breath steamed from our noses and mouths.

  I knocked on the door. It was answered by an older woman, one of the housekeepers.

  “We’re here to see the president,” I said. “And you are?”

  “Teta Delacruz and Nat Blackburn,” Teta said.

  Upon hearing our voices, Teddy turned the corner and walked into the vestibule. “They’re fine, Anna, thank you. Come in. You look like a couple of ice blocks. Anna, take their coats.”

  “It’s not necessary,” I said. “We just wanted to give something back to you.”

  We had already debriefed a man that Teddy sent to Wyoming back in the summer. I didn’t know if he believed us, but I didn’t care either. We didn’t lie when we told him there was no gold, and to stay away from Hecla at all costs.

  Teta handed the book, Konungs Skuggsjá: King’s Mirror, to him.

  “You came all the way out here to return a book? Please, come inside, have a drink, warm up. We have a lot to talk about.”

  I didn’t move. “You’re right, Teddy, we didn’t just come to give you the book.”

  We both reared back and punched him square in the face. Teddy toppled over. His pince-nez broke in two and flew off his face. Anna screamed for security. Teddy sat on his ass with his face in his hands.

  “That’s the first step toward being even,” I said.

  He looked at me, blood dribbling from his nose, and nodded.

  We walked back to the car and I pulled Selma onto my lap, covering us both with a wool blanket.

  “That was fast,” she said.

  “Wasn’t much to say.”

  The sun came out from behind the clouds and made the drive to the city bearable. I couldn’t wait to get back on the train headed for Laramie.

  AFTERWORD

  I want to thank you for reading this here yarn about a cowboy living in a changing world, a place where roping and wrangling have given way to driving and what most
folks might call a more civilized way of life. I try not to listen to most folks.

  Like any good tale, there’s a bit of truth within every fabrication. I thought I’d end this story as the campfire dies down with a list of the truths. Some of them are far more fascinating than anything I can dream up and worth picking up a history book or trolling through the Internet to learn more.

  Okay, here are the people, places and things that are verifiable fact:

  Teddy Roosevelt did exist, was one of the leaders of the Rough Riders in the Spanish-American War and did become president. Yes, that was an obvious one, but it gave me a chance to say this country needs another T.R. to make mincemeat out of the human train wrecks we call our modern congressional and executive parties.

  Hecla is an actual abandoned mining town in Wyoming. Copper was mined there in the 1800s. I don’t suggest you head out there now searching for gold.

  For you cattle-trail enthusiasts, there was a Chisholm Trail, made famous in about every other John Wayne movie.

  Of course, the unfortunate Apache Wars lasted decades.

  The legendary Nock-ay-det-klinne did stir up a good deal of trouble with his ghost dance and was indeed serious about raising fallen Apaches from the dead.

  Depending on whom you ask, the Djinn exist, though on some sort of interdimensional plane that sometimes intersects

  with our own. No one knows what they really look like, but whenever you hear about genies in a bottle, you’re hearing about the mystery of the Djinn.

  Wild men – or Bigfoot, or Sasquatch, or one of any dozens of names – may or may not live in the deep forests of just about every country in the world. Almost every civilization has tales of large, hairy, manlike beasts living on the outskirts of society.

  Native Americans have believed this to be true for longer than we’ve been on this continent. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.

  Last but not least, again, depending on whom you ask, the devil is very real, and very active nowadays. If that frightens you, remember, you can’t have evil without good, so give God a shout-out from time to time.