Gunslinger's Moon (17 page)

“In time the guards learned about it and did nothing to try and stop it. Instead the Confederate government tried to use the poor conditions as a bargaining tool to trade with the Union to release some their men imprisoned. However, not wanting to give the Confederates more men to fight they refused. A deal was made, though I never learned the specifics. The Confederates allowed your pa, me, and several others to enter the camp and put a stop to the vampires.”

“Did you?” Obadiah could not help asking.

“Of course we did,” Jed snorted. “We did our duty, killed all of the vampires. It was not easy I will let you know. Our hosts were not keen on letting us bring much in the way of weapons into the prison. Regardless we ended that terror. Mind you we could do nothing else to help the men. Job finished It was time for us to leave. They still starved there well after we left. Many more died before they were finally rescued. There was one small consolation, the warden Wirz got what he deserved after the war.” Jed drew a line across his throat.

Enlightened, Obadiah said, “That is why he never spoke about it.”

“We couldn’t save them, not even after all we did,” Jed sighed, seeing the forlorn looks and starved ribs. 

The next began the hard work of fixing up the house. The blacksmith had managed, with monetary incentive, to hammer one of the iron bar set. Placing it in a saddlebag to avoid notice, they transported them to the house. Glass windows were already in place and wanting to create the impression nothing was happening they placed the bars on the inside, hidden by the thick drapes. Two horizontal bars were attached to the wall on either side of the window. The vertical bars connecting the horizontal ones were the protection against any attackers. It would be a surprise for the werewolves if they tried to break through the windows.

Once it was installed, Jed grabbed the bars and shook it. They were solid. A werewolf should be dissuaded and try something else. A strong, determined vampire might be able to rip them out. At the very least both monsters would be slowed, and any seconds gained could be invaluable.

Jed left his red haired partner to begin working on the other projects. He wanted to speak to the bank guards. They were the rough tumble men able to face fears provided money was involved. He might have left most of his possessions behind, including a brilliant gold and silver crucifix that he regretted, but not his money. In many respects he was a rich man, in spite of the fact he did not have deposits in banks.

The bank was quiet like it usually was. Doubtless the traffic picked up whenever another lode of gold was struck. Two guards were at the bank, sitting at a small table in a corner. A game of cards were being played between them as they waited the hours away. The men stiffened as Jed entered. Neither was pleased to see him. The gunslinger approached easy, not trying to upset.

“What do you want?” questioned Grady Ford. He was a regular looking man, nothing untoward, just blond hair, a noise broken several times.

Jed unfurled several bills and tossed them on the table. “I have a proposition,” he informed them. “It’s a simple job. Stay at your job earning your keep until I call for you.”  

Samuel Hayback was chewing tobacco. A can on the table was where he deposited the tobacco. He did so first and then said, “I’m having a hard time imagining what a gunslinger wants with us. More trouble with werewolves,” he suggested.

“Yep,” Jed responded, surprising them. A free chair was at hand and he twisted it to lean his elbows on the back. “Mind you it’s not just werewolves, but vampires also.”

It provoked a reaction of incredulous. “Are you serious?” the blond guard said.

His friend was choking on a piece of tobacco. He coughed up the piece. The wet lump landed on his cards, partially covering a heart. “Everything is supposed to be killed,” he gasped.

“Funny, how some things don’t always turn out like you expect.” Jed removed his hat, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, this is not a jest. We got serious problems. I’ve talked with Ben Roberts, he owns the gun store. He is with me. Now I need to know if you are willing to do this. I will pay you good money. Better than the bank.”

A single glance between the two men reached an answer. The blond one said, “If you’re paying us, then sure.”

“Good. Don’t go sprouting this conversation. I won’t tell you who these monsters are, but keep an eye out.” Jed stared into their eyes, forcing them to meet his. “Talk to your friends, those that you think can keep a quiet mouth, but more importantly are handy with a gun. Make sure you have known them a long time and nothing suspicious about them.” Placing his hat on, he stood. “Tomorrow night gather them to Miller’s house. I will explain everything.”

The rest of the day was spent working on the house. As the day wore on, Jed felt tired. It was not the same exhaustion of a hard day’s work. Akin to staying up all day and night, he could barely lift his arms when the sun went down. Then there was the pressure in his chest, aggravated more whenever he coughed, an event increasing in repetition. Sleep was difficult, all night he racked in his bed by coughs. Obadiah could easily hear him through the walls and troubled his sleep.

Past breakfast, Jed opened his eyes awake. He felt as horrible this morning as last night. On the bed stand was a cloth on top covered in mucus and blood. Gingerly, he walked downstairs. Each step was a painful mountain to descend. A simple meal was on the dining table, a couple of biscuits and an egg. Obadiah was practicing drawing his revolvers. The kid had a natural speed, one that could be honed to an unbeatable fast draw.

“Shouldn’t you be working,” Jed greeted, startling Obadiah.

Hurriedly, he holstered the revolvers. “I was not sure if I should get a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” Jed said absently. He grabbed a biscuit, thoughtfully studied it and placed it on the ground. “I am riding out to Hicks.”

Obadiah could not see a purpose to seeing the old codger. “What good will that do?”

“He is handy with a shotgun, killed a werewolf by himself. Could use his help.”

Leaving his Obadiah to the work, Jed went to the boarding house. They still used the stable to house the horses. Taking care of the horses was the little boy, perhaps the only kid in the town. Again Jed gave him a generous tip, as he took Boy out. Mounting the chestnut was an obstacle in of itself. The ride past the mines was an exhausting trip.

Relief came when he spotted the dingy cabin near the gold mine. The surrounding hills were pockmarked by the numerous caverns. Nothing was different with Hicks. The old miner was comfortably rocking on his chair, hardly a care in the world besides protecting his gold.

A long stream of tobacco shot past his lips. Jed was not sure how the mostly toothless miner had chewed it. At any rate Hicks saw the gunslinger and hailed, “I knew you would come back sooner or later.”

Jed swung off his horse. “I have a proposition for you.”

“You do, do you? As long as it ain’t ‘bout my gold I’ll hear it out,” warned Hicks.

“Your town has an infestation. Those werewolves, including the one you killed, were not the only ones. Additionally, we got some vampires.”

Hicks proclaimed, “You talking ‘bout Douglas and his ilk.”

The surprise shook Jed. He was almost aware of his mouth hanging open. Hardly the right expression for a gunslinger. Closing it, he responded, “How did you know?”

Nothing less than a complete revelation as Hicks answered, “I’ve been watching them for a long time.” Jed turned to see what the old miner was gazing at. Distantly, was the coal mine headquarters. “I may not have my teeth nor my health. But, by God, I still have my eyes.” Another stream of tobacco soaked the ground. Upon seeing the gunslinger’s astonishment he began hooting with laughter.

Jed viewed the cackling miner in a different light. Hicks was still sharp as a whip, sharper than most men. He pushed his hat up. “If you knew than why didn’t you tell me?”

“Long as they don’t mess with my gold, I don’t care who or what they are. You are a gunslinger and I don’t mind.”

“Will you be willing to help?” Jed asked, going straight into the reason he came. “They are a threat to the town, them and the mutts. I know you are handy with that shotgun and I could use that.” He pointed to the twin barrels sitting in Hicks’ lap.

Smacking his lips, Hicks stood. All the joints in his body seemed to crack. Shouldering the heavy shotgun he walked inside. He called out, “I want you to see this.”

Stepping inside, Jed felt the air cool around him. It was marginally less warm under the roof. In this case judging the book by its cover was appropriate. Downtrodden as the exterior appeared, the inside matched it. It was small to boot. All one room, he could walk to the bedroom in the same number of steps to the kitchen. A couple shoddy cabinets hung on the wall. No doubt they were filled with cans of beans, the staple of Hicks’ diet.

“Nice rug,” Jed dryly commented.

The werewolf skin rug, paws outstretched, was lying in the center of the room. Its head was missing, but then Hicks had blown that part off when he killed it. The rug was about the only piece of furniture that was not wood.

Jed remarked, “I thought you were going to use it as a blanket.”

“Too itchy,” Hicks said chuckling.

Disgusting as it was to use a werewolf skin as a rug, the person had been human once, it reaffirmed Jed’s belief that Hicks would make an excellent addition to his band. “I could use you.”

Hicks shook his head. “I’ll kill anything that threatens me or my gold, but I don’t care about the rest of the town.”

“Douglas won’t let you sit here forever. I’m surprised you lasted this long alone. One day he will come after you.”

“Let me worry ‘bout him. He’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Jed did not press the point. Hicks was not the type to be persuaded by flowery speeches or appeals. “What about some of the other miners? Know anyone handy with a gun?” Hicks gave him a look, causing Jed to answer his own question. “Never mind, you care only for the gold.”

“Don’t worry son,” began Hicks, leading the gunslinger out. “I’m confident you will see me again. I’m getting used to you wasting my precious time.”

Jed watched him sit on his chair, beginning the gentle rocking motion. Turning the horse, Jed rode. He did not bother checking on the town. No trouble would come from there. Douglas and Jonathon had been controlling the mine for a long time. It was the still the town where he worried trouble would spring, before he was ready.             

The meeting was held at night, most of the townsfolk indoors or at the saloon. Perfect timing for a clandestine assembly. Ben Roberts was the first to arrive, wearing a gun belt. He noticed the iron bars as he studied the house. Obadiah had done good work repairing the holes and dents. Unfortunately, the couches were still dismantled and chairs were brought out to sit in.

Ben tapped the iron cage over the window. “Preparing for a siege,” he observed.

Four men knocked on the door as a group. It was the prison guards, the first two Jed had met and the other one who had been off duty. The last man was a stranger, tall and wide. One of the big men who spent their entire lives bigger than most others. However, Bjorn would dwarf him.

That was all the men who would be coming. Earlier Obadiah had suggested offering Ross. Jed shot the idea down in seconds. The last thing he wanted was a man questioning every order Jed gave, just for the sake of frustrating him. He also was not sure where the deputy’s loyalty lay. Sheriff Carter had not told him about the vampires, only the werewolves. It was anyone’s guess what his reaction to the news would be.

The first moments were uneasy, none of the men knew each other well. Veiled hostility to Jed emanated from the bank guards. The allure of money did prove to lesson it, but bygones were not yet bygones.

Swallowing some mucus Jed began introductions. Ben Roberts owned the gun store. The blonde bank guard Grady Ford introduced the other two as Tobias Gill, a quiet man, and Dane Boyd, a large regular citizen currently rolling a cigar. Of the bunch he seemed the roughest and most likely to handle himself.

The first order of business was to make sure that none was a werewolf or a vampire. Eyebrows were raised when Jed drew a silver knife. Extraordinarily, Obadiah found it in a cupboard, where undoubtedly Beth had used. Silver was only dangerous when it touched monster blood. Still most stayed away from it.

“I need everyone to make a little nick on their finger,” Jed instructed, tossing Dane the knife first. It was name profiling to be honest. Bjorn and his mutts had Scandinavian names.

“All right,” said the husky man wearing a thick jacket. Everyone eyes watched as he nicked his finger. He did not make a sound as a splotch of red dotted his finger. Holding it up, he allowed the others ample time to see it did not heal or react unnaturally.

Passing it to the next man, it was Grady’s turn. He hesitated a moment and then he too cut himself. The same result as Dane. Samuel and Tobias went after, none were anything but human. Satisfied only human ears would be hearing this, Jed began the meeting in earnest.

First he explained the situation. Informing them of the vampires at the coal mine and the werewolves in town. The worrying part was the numbers, roughly six vampires and a dozen werewolves. Then he revealed their identities, the most astonishing reveal was Bjorn the innkeeper. They took that news much worse than revealing Douglas was a vampire. To be expected perhaps, as no one in the town liked the harsh and aloof mayor.