Blood Riders (22 page)

Chapter Forty-eight

H
ollister and Chee stood dumbstruck as Shaniah strolled almost casually down the street. The further removed from the Archaics she got, the more restless they became. It didn’t seem like their patience would hold much longer and Shaniah quickened her pace a bit, until she finally reached the two of them.

“What the hell did you do?” Hollister asked. Shaniah shrugged.

“I would suggest we get inside the jail, quickly. They have been momentarily cowed. It won’t last long,” she said.

Hollister wasn’t sure bringing Shaniah inside the jail with the women and children was a good idea. Yet she had saved his life a half dozen times in the last ten minutes and he could not see making her fend for herself out here. But he was not taking a fox into the henhouse either.

“Give me your knife,” Hollister said.

“What? No!” she said.

Jonas didn’t waste time. “Here is how it is. You want my help finding this ‘Malachi’ as you called him. All right. We can talk about it. But right now, we’ve got to survive until morning at the least, and I’ve got women and children inside the jail. I’m not letting you in there with a weapon. So make up your mind.”

Shaniah felt like taking Hollister by the throat. But when her flash of anger subsided, she could see his point. And would likely have done the same thing, had she been in his position. She held out the knife, blade down, and he secured it in his gun belt.

Noticing the sullen look on her face, he tried giving her a charming smile. “Don’t worry. If the Archaics show up again, I’ll be sure you get it back.”

“If they come back, you’ll likely die,” she said.

“Touché,” Hollister said. “Sally! We need to come in.”

“Hold it, Major,” Chee said, raising the rifle. Hollister turned; with one free hand each, they exchanged coins. Both were clear. Shaniah looked puzzled but the two men said nothing.

There came the sound of the wooden timber being lifted from inside, and the door squeaked open. The three of them shot through and Hollister resecured the door. Chee made no acknowledgment of anyone or anything, going right back to the window and peering through the shooting port, rifle at the ready.

Shaniah wasn’t sure where to go. The women and children stared at her with a mixture of distrust and fear, several of them cowering and pushing closer together in the office corner. Shaniah herself did not look comfortable standing next to Chee and for a few moments she fidgeted until she took a spot beside the desk and in the opposite corner from where the woman and children had gathered. She studied the door to the cell block, now chained, and pretended to be interested in any mundane thing she could find.

“Who is she?” Sally asked. “I ain’t ever seen her before.”

“She’s new in town,” Hollister said, trying to sound at ease.

“How come she’s got blood all over her?” Sally continued.

Hollister hadn’t really paid attention in all the excitement, but now noticed both he and Shaniah were splattered in blood from their fights with the Archaics.

“We . . . ah . . . ran into a little bit of trouble,” Hollister said. “How’s Billy?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Billy sat on his mother’s lap. She held him seated on the floor, pulling him tightly to her, sobbing gently and rubbing his hair. Surprisingly, he looked none the worse for wear.

“Appears fine,” Sally said, not taking her eyes off Shaniah. “She one o’ them?”

“One of whom?” Hollister asked, not wanting to answer and waiting for the trouble he had a pretty good idea was coming.

“You know. A night demon. She don’t look right,” Sally said.

Hollister couldn’t imagine how that could be, because aside from all the blood staining her clothes and the many creatures he’d seen her kill almost bare-handed, she looked like the most all-right woman he had ever seen.

“No. She’s not one of them. She’s hunting them though. She lost someone who was taken by these things and came to my aid in town. They can be killed and she knows how to do it.”

His answer appeared to satisfy Sally for a moment, but she kept a wary eye on Shaniah. The other women were whispering and murmuring among themselves and Hollister had a feeling they were going to figure out Shaniah’s true nature before long. Luckily, he didn’t have time to worry about it.

“Major,” Chee said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve got company again.”

Hollister peered out the port. The Archaics Shaniah had stood off now gathered in front of the jail. They weren’t doing anything, just standing, watching. Hollister counted twenty-two now and he wondered how many were left in town. He disliked being pinned down like this, unable to do reconnaissance and find out what he was up against.

The moon was moving lower in the sky. Hollister checked his pocket watch. It was past 3
A.M
. Suddenly the Archaics turned to look at something down the street, and from their vantage point neither he nor Chee could see what it was.

A moment later, two more Archaics arrived, each of them carrying torches.

“I thought they didn’t like fire,” Hollister muttered.

“Where did you hear that?” Shaniah said quietly and he jumped for she was right behind him. He’d had no idea she’d moved from her original spot. “We’re quite familiar with fire and its many uses.”

“I read it in Van . . . somewhere. From a trustworthy source.”

“Well your source is wrong. You are thinking of vampires, not Archaics. Fire will burn us, like a human, but it cannot kill us. From what I have heard, fire does kill vampires. Our accelerated healing makes it an annoyance at worst. A fire will slow us down and only make us angry.”

“As if you ain’t naturally angry enough already.” Hollister snorted.

Shaniah ignored him.

“What are they doing?” Hollister said, changing the subject.

“If I had to guess, I would say they are going to smoke you out,” she said.

Their next move surprised all of them.

One of the males holding a torch spoke. “We would speak to the female,” he said.

“I think he’s asking for you,” Hollister said, looking at Shaniah, who never took her eyes off the Archaic in the street. “What does he want?”

“I have no idea,” she said. “This is . . . this is . . . not right. Those men should not yet be able to speak . . . unless . . .” she paused thinking, pacing back and forth.

“Unless what?” Hollister demanded.

“Malachi sent them here,” she said.

“Malachi . . . just to be clear. He’s the really tall guy with the white hair?” Hollister asked again.

“Yes. This means he’s getting stronger, he’s nearly . . . well, we can discuss it later. Suffice it to say, he’s powerful enough now to turn a whole town if he wants to. Those would be his soldiers he sent to start the turning and the killing.”

Hollister was caught a little off guard. Tired and sore from his exertions, he was stumbling over what to do next.

“Do you think he’s here?” Hollister asked.

She shook her head. “No. I would be able to tell if he was.”

“How?”

“Many ways. Smell mostly.”

“Nice,” Hollister said.

“It is not the only way. Archaics who have lived many years develop a sense of each other—a connection, you might call it. We are always able to tell when another is nearby. I don’t sense him here or even anywhere close. But I suspect those two are among his most valued soldiers.”

“How do you know that?” Chee asked.

“Because it is what I would do,” she said. Hollister wondered if she even noticed how she drew back a little when she spoke to Chee. Something about him made her nervous. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he wanted to find out. It might come in handy.

“Sally, can you come here a minute?” he asked the young woman.

She joined them at the window and they made room for her to see out the port. She let out a sharp breath of fear upon seeing all the Archaics.

“It’s okay, Sally,” he said. “Do you recognize either of the men holding those torches? Are they from around here?”

She studied them and shook her head.

“I don’t recognize ’em. I mean there’s people comin’ and goin’ all the time in a minin’ town. But I ain’t never seen ’em before.” She looked up at him and he thought she might have the brownest eyes he’d ever seen. But there were so many lines on her face for someone so young and he felt a little sad, thinking of the hard life she must have faced. He wanted to get her out of here. Out of this jail and this town. To get her somewhere safe where she might have a chance.

“Thanks, Sally,” he said. “Would you mind keeping an extra eye on Billy for me? I don’t want him surprising us again and I’m not sure his mother is . . . well, I just need someone I can trust keeping a watch on things.”

Sally nodded, and the look on her face told him she knew she was being dismissed, but she had the good grace not to say anything about it. The women were quiet but the children were stirring and he heard one of the little girls whine about being hungry. He realized they had left the food and water in the cells when they escaped. He toyed with the idea of trying to retrieve the supplies but with a glance at the creatures pacing about in the street, he rejected it. They would have to hold out a little longer.

“Just so you know there is something wrong with the one you call Billy,” Shaniah said.

“What do you mean wrong?” Hollister asked.

“He doesn’t smell right. He may have been turned,” she said.

“But you can’t be sure?” Hollister said.

“No, it has been so long since I have been near a human child turned Archaic, I can’t be sure. But you should kill him, just to be safe,” she said.

With that, Chee swung the rifle around so it was inches from her temple. Shaniah did not flinch, but the two of them stared at each other like two bulls sharing a pasture.

“We do not kill children,” he said.

Hollister pushed the rifle away from Shaniah and back to its proper place in the shooting port. “Chee, let’s try to remain friendly. Shaniah, please avoid talking about child killing as it tends to rile up my sergeant.”

Hollister was still struggling with a next step, when one of the torch bearing men spoke again.

“We would speak to the female,” it said. The voice was deep, with a raspy, breathless quality and Hollister remembered how Malachi had sounded on the Wyoming plain.

“Like a snake trying to talk,” he muttered.

“Sir?” Chee asked, confused.

“Nothing,” he answered.

“When they feed on human blood, their voices change. It affects their internal organs. In the old days it was one of the ways an Archaic could be judged for breaking Archaic law by feeding on humans.”

The sound of the voice sent the women and children inside the jail into a frenzy.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Rebecca moaned from her spot in the corner. This started some of the younger children to crying.

“Hush now,” Sally whispered to them. “It’s gonna be all right.”

“I’m ready for suggestions,” Hollister said quietly to Shaniah and Chee.

“Open the door,” she said. “Let me talk to them.”

“I don’t think so,” Hollister said. “Let me rephrase that. I’m ready for suggestions that don’t involve opening the door. I send you out there and you’re overwhelmed. We’re going to need you to get out of this.”

“I may be able to talk them into giving up,” she pointed out.

“They don’t look like they’re in a giving-up mood. And there’s about three times as many as you faced in the street. Plus these two new fellows, they don’t look like they’d spook as easy,” Hollister said. “Like it our not, next to Chee here, you’re my most valuable weapon. I can’t afford to lose you.” She was actually worth about ten Chees, but he didn’t want to hurt the young man’s feelings.

“We would speak to the female now!” the same man hollered again. The other Archaics stood behind the two men, looking nervous and jumpy. Or hungry. Jonas couldn’t tell.

A few minutes passed and everyone was silent. Then the next step was taken for them as the two men stepped forward, hurling their torches onto the roof of the jail.

Chapter Forty-nine

T
he torches spun through the darkness and landed atop the building with a thud. At first, Hollister thought they might be okay, maybe the torches wouldn’t catch, but there was a large sound of rushing air and the smell of something burning. The flames lit up the street in front of the jail and Hollister wondered about earlier in the night when the Archaics had jumped on the roof, stomping all around. They must have been preparing it to burn somehow.

The smell of smoke filtered down through the ceiling and now not even Sally’s ministrations could calm the children and women.

“You need to do something about your people,” Shaniah said to Hollister.

“Like what?” he said, not happy at the distraction.

“You should kill them,” she said matter-of-factly.

The words stopped him, although Chee didn’t flinch. Not because he would ever consider following her suggestion, but more because he was not surprised by it. Hollister couldn’t understand what little dance they were in engaged in, but he would sure as shit find out. When he wasn’t so preoccupied with not getting killed.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“They are going to die. Either we all burn to death, or they are killed by the Archaics. No matter the method, they are just as dead. A bullet now is more merciful,” she said.

“And you’re all about the mercy?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“The quality is not unknown to me,” she said.

“Yeah, well, funny way of showing it. They aren’t going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Hollister said.

The smoke was now curling down into the room and the air in it would soon no longer be breathable.

“All right. Maybe they don’t have the back covered; we go through the cell block, Chee and I exit the window first, the children and the women come next. We might have enough ammo to keep them at bay until we get to the train.”

“That’s it? Excuse me for saying, but in my country we do not call that a plan,” Shaniah scoffed.

“Never been to your country. Don’t care what it’s called there,” he said.

“Major. Sir?” Chee said, interrupting.

“Sergeant?”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but the window won’t work, Major. Two of the women yonder are . . . stout . . . they’ll never fit through and I don’t think it’s big enough for one of us to shoot through while the other climbs out of it. One of those things will be on us before we get our feet out the opening,” he said. Hollister could tell it bothered Chee to criticize his plan. But he was right.

“In my country we would call this suicide,” Shaniah snarled as if wanting to finish her thought.

“It’s going to have to be the front door, sir,” Chee said. “We’re going to have to rush them, guns blazing. Maybe Monkey Pete will come . . .”

“He won’t. I gave him orders not to,” Hollister said. Everyone jumped as one of the roof timbers cracked and sparks fluttered down from the ceiling.

“Again, you have a monkey?” Shaniah asked.

“NO,” he and Chee both answered at the same time.

Hollister tried to think. He had been out of command situations for nearly four years. His decision-making abilities, which had been lightning quick in his army days, had atrophied. He’d not faced anything like this, not in Winchester, Cold Harbor, or anyplace else during the war. The only thing that compared was when he’d lost his men to these things on the plains. He hated the feeling. He wasn’t going to lose again. Not if he had to kill every single one of these sons of bitches with his bare hands.

T
he flames lit up the night, dancing and flickering in the darkness, and by the looks of the reflections in the windows across the street, they were starting to spread to the adjacent buildings. There was another loud crack and more sparks and now smoke rolled into the room and the women and children started to cough. Outside the Archaics had backed away from the fire, and while Shaniah said they had no innate fear of it, he wasn’t so sure this was the case. They all studied the flames as if they wanted to keep their distance.

“All right,” he said, drawing Shaniah’s knife from his belt and handing it to her. “We’re going out. Chee, I’ll take the point, the women and children next, and you bring up the rear. Shaniah, if you’re with us, if you could do what you can to protect our flanks . . .” He drew a Colt from his holster and offered it to her but she shook her head, holding up the knife instead.

“All right . . . we’re going to have to make every shot count and we can’t assume that’s all the Archaics in that group there. Could be more about, so . . .” He stopped as Chee put his hand on his arm.

“Did you hear that, sir?” Chee asked.

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like . . . barking . . .” Chee said, his eyes on the street.

“I didn’t hear a th . . .” But then he did. A loud, deep bark.

Down the street came Dog, barking and churning up the ground in great leaps. The Archaics watched in stunned silence as the great beast ran directly to the jail door, where Chee had lifted the timber beam and pulled it open. Dog slipped in, barking, and leapt on Chee, pushing him backward against the door and slamming it shut, his paws on the sergeant’s shoulders and licking his face.

Hollister noticed then, the dog was wearing some kind of harness, and held in place by two leather straps was the Ass-Kicker.

“Huh,” Hollister said.

H
ollister removed the harness from Dog’s back. The giant animal appeared not to even know it had been carrying the heavy gun. Hollister hefted the weapon into the crook of his arm and instantly felt about one thousand times better. He checked the gauge, unnecessarily he knew, for Monkey Pete would not have sent it less than fully charged. He drew back the slide and smiled at the slight hiss of steam exiting the valve.
All right, you blood-sucking bastards. Say hello to my Archaic-Ass-Kicking friend.

Dog had been so happy to see Chee, he had momentarily forgotten about the rest of the people in the room. He ignored Hollister as usual, but he stepped toward the children and women huddled in the corner and huffed, and then stretched so his forepaws were down on the ground like he wanted to play, wagging his tail in joy. The children were scared at first but as they watched Dog clowning it up, their demeanor changed. The cries and whimpering stopped and a few giggles escaped from their tired mouths.

“I bet you wouldn’t ignore me if I had a side o’ bacon, you big fur ball,” Hollister said. Dog looked at Hollister; that was when he noticed Shaniah and his demeanor changed. He growled low in his throat and took a few cautious steps toward her, his body tense, the hair on his neck standing up. He looked ready to spring at any moment.

“I can easily kill this dog,” Shaniah said quietly. Hollister didn’t doubt it, but the words did not sit well with his sergeant. Before he had a chance to say anything, Chee spoke up.

“Come near the dog, harm it in any way, and you will walk the
Qui chen
forever,” Chee said.

“Chee, what exactly is
Qui chen
?” Hollister asked.

“A river in hell,” Chee said.

“Oh,” said Hollister. “Easy you two. Let’s not walk any rivers anywhere, all right?”

Shaniah stared at him for several seconds as the smoke in the room thickened. There wasn’t much time.

“I mean it. No trouble between you two. Sergeant, that’s an order. We’re on the same side here,” Hollister said. “Chee, load up.”

“Sally, we’re getting out of here. Everyone up and ready,” he said.

“No . . . no . . . no . . . no . . . we can’t go out there . . . the demons will kill us all. They’ll kill . . .” Rebecca had started to moan and wail, but Sally covered the ground between them in a flash and smacked her hard across the face.

“You shut up now, you tired hag. Come with us or stay, but you git ready,” she commanded. Rebecca’s mind was gone. It just went away to another place, her mind broken like a fine china plate that had fallen to the floor. Hollister didn’t think Rebecca was ever coming back from this.

“I’m going out first and I’m going to give those sonsabitches a special hello,” he said, holding up the Ass-Kicker. “We all go south on First Street and head for the train siding. We’ve got help there and we’ll be safe. They can’t set fire to it and we can outrun them anyway. The three of us will protect you.” He was interrupted by a growl from Dog. “Excuse me, the four of us can protect you. We can do this. You have my word.” For effect, Hollister worked the handle attached to the main action on his gun, and the sound it made as the steam hissed and the round popped into place was loud in the room, which was reassuring to him at least. It was time.

Chee moved away from the door and returned to the port. He could get off a couple of shots from there if he needed to before they had to exit.

Hollister removed the timber from the door.

“Ready?” he asked. Shaniah and Chee nodded. Dog sat on his haunches next to Chee waiting to see what happened next.

Hollister threw open the door with a bang. The Archaics across the street turned toward the noise as one, reminding Hollister of a herd of antelope spotting a grizzly bear.

“You wanted to talk? Let’s talk!” he shouted. He stepped out into the street, no more than twenty yards away from them now. Three of them leapt in the air toward him and he leaned forward, ready for the recoil this time. From the waist he aimed the Ass-Kicker in their direction and pulled the trigger.

There was a quick whoosh of steam, then the weapon fired and jerked in his grip. The noise was deafening. The bullet, which he’d decided was really more like a mortar round, hit the first Archaic and exploded. The percussion wave tore through the creature like shrapnel through butter. His body flew apart in pieces and the other two were knocked backward a good ten yards where they spun into the ground. He didn’t think they were dead but they were down. Likely for quite a while.

“Let’s go!” he yelled. He started running toward the train and from the corner of his eye he saw Shaniah dart out of the jail, followed by the first of the women and children. Holding the Ass-Kicker in his right hand, he drew his Colt from the left holster. He had a load of silver and holy water bullets and he wanted to use them all before he fired the big gun again.

He aimed for legs. The bullets seemed to cause the creatures great pain and he surmised that if it didn’t kill them, perhaps being shot in the legs with ammunition that was clearly poison to them might slow them down even more. His first shot found its mark and a female fell to the ground, her hands clawing at the wound.

His display with the Ass-Kicker had the desired effect. The Archaics shadowed them, still in pursuit but parallel to them and not willing to engage yet. Hollister knew this was temporary, as their need to feed would overcome them before long and they would attack.

He risked a look backward and found Sally and Shaniah leading the group from the jail with Chee behind them. He was running and effortlessly firing the Henry, taking out more targets. The roof of the jail collapsed and he was momentarily relieved to have gotten everyone this far.

They had almost made it to the end of the street when the next wave of Archaics attacked. His Colt was empty, so he holstered it, cocking the action on the Ass-Kicker. The valve hissed and the gear turned, and just like that, it was ready to fire. The rail spur was another hundred yards away. He tried to angle himself toward the Archaics so the gun would cut as wide a swath as possible. It was difficult with them all moving around, running and jumping as they debated whether to come at him again.

“Come on, you sonsabitches!” he yelled.

The women and children were in a tight bunch behind him, with Shaniah and Dog on each flank. Chee brought up the rear, keeping up a steady fire with the Henry. Sally was in the middle of the group toward the front, carrying a small child in one arm waving her Colt around with the other. He wasn’t sure if she’d fired it yet or not.

An Archaic charged toward Dog’s side of their small column, perhaps thinking it was the weak point. It cost the creature the use of its right arm as Dog leapt, meeting the fiend in the air and taking hold of the limb, twisting them both to the ground. The creature screamed as Dog clamped down, breaking the Archaic’s bones and shaking it like a dead cat.

Rounding the intersection, a phalanx of Archaics came directly at them. Hollister skidded to a stop, set his feet, and fired the gun, with devastating effect. It hit the first Archaic in line, blowing through her and the one behind her, and taking off the arm of a third. The rest of the group scattered into the shadows.

“Keep going!” he shouted. He could see the train sitting on the track in the distance. It looked a hundred miles away.

He pulled back the action on the Ass-Kicker and another round ratcheted into the chamber. Two shots left. Hollister had found when testing the gun that each shot lost power until the gun could be recharged. The final shot was about half as powerful as the first, but still did some damage.

Ten yards down Second Street they ran, then twenty. Thirty yards. The Archaics held back but were regrouping. Forty yards down the street, still a long way to the train.
They won’t let us reach the end of the street
, he thought.

“Hold on! Here they come!” he shouted.

As if they’d read his mind, the creatures surged into the street. He managed to wound four with the remaining rounds in his Colt, missing two others, but now both pistols were empty. Archaics burst out of the doors of the buildings as if they were running to a fire. Four or five of the creatures stood on the roof of the walkways and beneath them, four more poured out of the general store. They had heard his big gun shoot and were cautious. Hollister aimed the Ass-Kicker at one of the wooden posts holding up the roof over the walkway and his shot obliterated the pillar. The weight of the creatures on the roof collapsed it and crushed those standing below it.

“Bastards!” Hollister screamed.
If I live through this, I will apologize for my language later
, he thought.