Gunslinger's Moon (28 page)

She questioned quietly, “Where did you get a flintlock with a silver bullet?”

Reluctantly, he informed her, “Your butler gave it to me as he died.” She was silent, pondering implications of why Henry had hidden it from her.

The night was quieting as the group ran among the sea of tents. Most of the miners still in town were dead, the vast majority running into the desert night as far and as fast from the death. Jed and his group passed by a couple of bodies, necks bloody and eyes open. As Jed was stepping over one, the body reached up, grasping his trousers. Truthfully, it scared every wit in his body. However, it was not the last struggles of a dying man. It was a trap. The vampire bit his ankle. Shots rang as Jed cursed. Beth pried the vampire off his leg. She held it down as Obadiah fired into its chest.

“Run,” she hissed, “get the gun while we hold them off.”

No time for second thoughts. Jed started running in a crouch. The fighting drew the attention of several vampires. Obadiah and Ross fired at the charge. Fully fed, these ones slickly evaded the bullets. Nadi manage to drop one with a blast from both barrels. They could only dodge so many bullets. Davy swung at a vampire. Blocking the blow with a forearm, its hand slashed. Long talons ripped his chest. Beth tore out a pole from a tent. Brandishing it as a staff, she whipped it across. The blow knocked a vampire back, breaking the wood in half. It stumbled on a tent, the folds covering it. While it cursed and slapped the cloth away, Davy batted it with his shovel.

A third vampire stabbed its sharp nails into Ross’ shoulder. The sheriff howled in pain and discovered his revolver was empty. Obadiah closed in, firing away. With a backhand the vampire slashed his face. Its hissing laughter was cut interminably short, as Beth speared him with the pole. It gurgled, gleeful eyes darkening. Brushing a strand of hair back, Beth twisted the stake as it screamed.

Lying among tents, the bloodsucker examined its wounds. A shotgun had obliterated its kneecaps. Now the wounds were closing. Broken bones mended together and the skin patched itself. Though it could not see the fight, screams and shooting were clearly hearable. Doubtlessly the humans were dying. It cursed the shot. Endless oceans of blood to feast were all it could think about. The healing only prompted to awaken the unquenchable hunger. Unholy power coursed in its veins, a delicious feeling. One to last an eternity. It imagined the copious amounts of blood needed for an immortal being.

Vague memories of humanity floated in its mind. Even a name tugged at its conscious. The vampire squished them. They were unimportant. All that mattered was the blood and the box. If it bathed in enough blood, then maybe those agonizing days trapped could be avoided. Hearing footsteps the vampire looked up. Four human faces and a vampire were staring down. Whatever thoughts of immortality fled.

Jed discovered his leg wound was worse than he expected. Those teeth might have cut something important, he reasoned. Quickly, he wrapped the wound of two small marks. Hobbling, he jogged toward the saloon on fire. The entire building was an ominous pyre. By the fire the road from the camp was visible with fleeing men and chasers. Jed could see Boy standing with reins wrapped around a post. A body lay beside it. Horrible as the thought was, Jed could not but be thankful the man had not taken his horse.

Carefully, he studied the rest of the street. Douglas was standing motionless in the middle of the street. Perhaps he really was waiting for one of his minions to bring the gunslinger. None of the commotions drew his attention nor interest. Jed waited, hiding as close to the burning saloon as he could. The intense heat was boiling his body.

Fortunately, a distraction was provided. Someone started shooting at Douglas. A moment of worry and concern crossed his face. Realizing it was merely lead flying, he strode to the shooter. Instantly, Jed rushed to Boy. The horse was startled so placed a calming hand on its nose. Seeing the rope, the gunslinger had an idea. Mounting Boy, opened the loop on the rope he kept on the saddle. Tying one end on the horn, Jed kicked his horse to a gallop. 

First spinning his lasso in a wide arc, Jed expertly launched it. The hoop encircled Douglas. Twisting hard at the reins he galloped hard in the other direction. Douglas not amused pulled on the rope. Boy neighed, rising on both legs before crashing to the ground. Jed rolled free.

“I was wondering if you would come after me,” Douglas said. The shooting resumed with buckshot slamming into his skull and demanding his attention.

Beth stepped into the street, holding a stake in her hands. “Douglas you lying sack of dung,” she yelled, her tone furious. Jed’s eyes were not the only ones to raise at the fury.

Jed pulled the saddlebags free of the escaping Boy. The contents spilled out revealing some food supplies, the flintlock, and two sticks of dynamite. He had forgotten about the explosives. The only thing left behind was the food. He stuffed the flintlock in his belt.

Douglas cracked his knuckles. “My dear, I am going to put a final end to your sanctimonious self-righteousness. You are a monster just like me. Embrace it.”

Once more his features changed, from a youthful man to gaunt, red eyed and pale. Beth mirrored his features. Her beautiful face becoming monstrous. Simultaneously, they charged each other. Jumping through the air. Punches were thrown as they tangled. The blows were loud and thunderous. The wooden stick fell to the ground. Douglas landed on top launching merciless attacks in only a couple seconds.

Beth groaned as Douglas rose. He turned to the gunslinger. Smiling, Douglas sprinted. Strides covering the ground in blinks of the eye. The speed was blistering. Jed had expected the move and he fired one of the dynamite sticks he tossed well in front of him. Douglas did not see it coming. Black smoke concealed him even as it blew him back. The explosion created a smoke obscuring cloud.

Obadiah walked onto the street with Ross, Nadi, and Davy. Tensely, everyone waited for the smoke to dissipate. Beth frowned and Jed could guess at her reaction. Sure enough, when the smoke cleared, Douglas nor any piece of him could be seen.

Vehemently, with all the frustration and anger in the world, Ross cursed. “Where’d he go?” he asked throwing up his arms.

Jed replied, “Keep your eyes peeled.”

From the roof of the saloon, Douglas flew like a bullet. He tackled Jed and they rolled on the ground. Douglas kicked him away. Jed slid ten feet on the dirt. The others tried to hit him. Like a streak of lighting, Douglas weaved among them, dodging the rounds. Then he grabbed Ross’s revolver and shot Davy. Sweeping up Davy’s shovel as it fell, he smacked the sheriff. Ross spun like a carnival to the dirt. Obadiah threw himself to the side. Douglas grabbed his leg in midair and hurled him twenty feet.

Nadi leveled the shotgun. The blast knocked his head back. Douglas lowered it. Most of his skin and eyes were gone. Beneath broken bones was visible brain tissue, it too ruined. Amazingly, every wound healed. Douglas took hold of the smoking barrel. Single handedly, he then crushed the iron piece, destroying the weapon. He allowed her to step back, not wishing to harm her. The witch doctor could still be useful. He saw Beth pick up the wooden stake.

Douglas sighed, “Really, it is futile Elizabeth.”

Jed cocked the hammers to his Colt and Kruger as he stood up. “We’ll see Douglas.”

His beady eyes narrowed. “I think I will stuff your pesky instruments down your throat.”

The gunslinger started the action by firing the Colt. Douglas leapt to the side, the bullets flying by him. Then Jed fired his Kruger, merging the iron of the revolver with the flesh of his hand. He fired, not where the vampire was. Where he was going. Approximately, 7 feet and 3 inches in front. The silver bullet tore into his side. Douglas’ feet tripped and he barely kept his balance.

Gingerly, Douglas placed a delicate touch to the wound. The bleeding soaked his clothes. Taking advantage Beth in a blaze of motion shoved the stake into his heart. Douglas went to his knees. Jed wiped sweat from his brow. It was over. A stake in the heart couldn’t be removed. Beth walked to him. She held out her hands for a hug, looking absolutely marvelous in the moonlight. The stake burst from her chest, right where her heart lay. A look of confusion crossed her face. It faltered and she fell.

Douglas weakly stood, the wound in his chest healing. Jed had never seen a vampire pull a stake out of his heart. He also had a revolver in his hands.

The vampire shook his head wearily. The amounts of healing had leached his energy. “Your last silver bullet. Unfortunately for you, my bullets don’t need to be anything but lead.”

Douglas fired. The crack seemed to last an eternity and the night went silent as it disappeared. This time Jed shook his head, his voice dripped with disgust. “It don’t matter what the bullet is if you can’t shoot.”

The gunslinger whipped out the flintlock and fired. The firing hammer slammed down pushing the frizzen out of the way, letting the flint strike the pan. A brilliant spark was born and it ignited the powder. The explosion sent the silver ball careening. It cut through air resistance and the soft skin to nestle in the heart of the heart.

Jed dropped the spent flintlock. Douglas was on his hands and knees. Liters of blood was gushing out. Douglas groaned, “Damnable gunslinger. How were you able…?” The vampire dropped to his stomach. Jed scooped up a shovel. Douglas remorsefully noted, “Everywhere we’ve ran we have been hunted. England, France, Transylvania, and now America.” Using the last of his strength the vampire rolled to his back. Blood sprayed from his lip when he talked. “Tell me Mr. Ethan are you really a Van Helsing?”

The gunslinger snorted, “Those arrogant bastards? Nah. I’m just Jed.”

And the shovel came down.

He tossed the severed head into the blazing saloon. By the collar and belt, Jed hoisted the corpse. In life or undeath, Douglas had been short and lightweight. Also a disturbingly prolific amount of blood was soaking the dirt. Three men could not have bled so much. So carrying the body to the fire required no effort. Standing at the porch, Jed swung the body. He was about to release the body, when he felt something.

An impenetrable darkness surrounded. He could only see a dozen feet from where he was standing, despite the fire. The shadows on the ground began to move. To dance. Four distinct shadows pirouetted in disharmony. All at odds with another.

One of the shadows twirled. “Happy to see me?” It asked.

Jed was tempted to cut his own wrist rather than go through this fiasco again. “Very ungrateful,” the second one snarled as it twisted.

“What do you want?” Jed demanded.

“Payment,” the third one spun in dizzying circles.

“For the deal,” the fourth one reminded.

“I don’t have anything else since the last time we spoke.” Jed frowned.

The first shadow said, “The heart.”

“THE HEART!” The others immediately chorused.

“My heart?”

“HIS!” A long shadow arm dancing to the beat of the fire stretched to Douglas’ corpse.

The request stunk to high heaven. “What for?”

“You dare question me?” The second one raged.

The first one placated, “Sweet friend, don’t worry.”

Jed replied, “I don’t think so.”

The fourth shadow whispered, “Did you like sputtering and coughing? Living each day in agony. Staring at the shadows of a room, begging the chance to change your mind. Mortal gunslinger, you will rue this night if you break the deal.”

He paused, contemplating those words. It had been miserable suffering from consumption. Did he truly wish to suffer again? What was one vampire heart compared to his life? Jed felt the body become increasingly heavier. Aren’t you retired, he asked himself. Enjoy a long and healthy retirement free from chasing threats and darkness. The shadows seized on that thought echoing yes in the corners of his mind.

“Course, if I think about it,” Jed dryly mused aloud, “I have been retired this entire time. Some things don’t change.”

The shadows screamed in rage as the gunslinger slung the corpse into the fire. The darkness retreated, vanishing quickly as it came. Nothing never seemed different. Cautiously, Jed coughed once. No bile rose to his throat or swamped his lungs. Confusion settled on his brow. They had not taken their gift. Jed remained healthy. He could not help but think that, perhaps, the shadows had something worse planned for him later.

“Jed, I need your help!” Nadi shouted as she knelt beside Beth. She was trying to take out the stake jutting from her heart. He ran to them, wrenching it free with a tremendous heave. The wound was not closing. Nadi pulled out a knife. “She needs blood. Hold her down.” Dubiously, Jed watched the witch doctor cut her palm deeply. She held the wound, so the blood dripped into Beth’s mouth. Scarlet drops disappeared into the throat.

Swiftly, the stake injury mended itself. A light red shading rose to her cheeks. Beth’s eyes flashed open. She tried to bite Nadi’s hand. It took all of Jed’s strength to keep her down. “Beth snap out of it!” Jed yelled.

The brightness of the green eyes dimmed. She stopped fighting, allowing Jed to keep her down. “I’m okay.” She placed a hand to her forehead. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Jed answered. “He is dead.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to check on the others.” Squeezing her hand, he went to Obadiah.