Six Guns Straight From Hell - Tales Of Horror And Dark Fantasy From The Weird Weird West (6 page)

Jehoiakim’s smile faltered and he staggered back a pace, then he straightened and his smile returned. He sprang at Teague with blinding speed and made a slashing gesture with a stiff-fingered hand. The sheriff went down, as blood, painted black by the moonlight, gushed from his neck.

I paused the smallest fraction of a second, deliberately placing my shot. The bullet tore through Jehoiakim’s wrist before he could strike again. I kept my gun on him while I bent to check Teague. His breath was shallow and he was losing blood at a frightening rate. I pulled off his kerchief and did my best, working one-handed, to staunch the flow.

“
I had no choice marshal.” Jehoiakim’s voice was as smooth as ever. He was still smiling as he stood, cradling his wounded wrist with his good hand.

“
You just knifed a peace officer you son of...“

”
Self-defense.” The preacher said. “He tried to kill me and I was forced to protect myself. You saw it yourself, and so did all these witnesses. Besides, I have no knife.”

I glared at the blank faces.

“
Some of you men, hitch up that buckboard!” I yelled, “I need to get this man to a doctor!”

The worshipers shifted uncertainly, until Brother Jehoiakim nodded his approval, then they set to work.

I rose to my feet and levelled my revolver at Jehoikim’s chest.

“
You’re coming with me, McMasters.”

“
I’m afraid not, mmarshal,” he replied. “You have no cause to take me and my people will not allow me to be arrested unjustly. Are you so sure I am a criminal that you will risk their lives?”

He released his wrist and displayed it. There was no trace of a wound. A gasp of wonder came from the worshippers.

“
Are you even sure you
can
arrest me?”

“
I don’t know who you think you are,” I said in a quiet voice, “but this isn't over.”

“
Who am I? That’s a very good question, lawman. I suppose you could say that I am a god. The only real god you have ever known.”

He stooped and picked up the rosary. He winced as if it disgusted him to touch it.

“
Silver bullets and magic charms,” He shook his head with a smirk. “It’s amazing how strong a hold these superstitions have on the weak-minded.”

The preacher tossed the beads so they landed on the wounded man’s chest.

“
I used to believe in such things, then my studies led me to the truth, to a god who touched my mind and changed me. He is Tawil-at-U'mr, the One from Beyond. His hand guided me to the holy book and taught me the incantations that transformed me. His power flows through my body, keeping me safe from harm, even bringing me back from death.”

His eyes were filled with a wild light as his voice rose.

“
This very night, the moment of my ascension has come!” he cried, “The stars are right! The moment is nigh for the Dweller to cross the Threshhold and enter our world. I have been his prophet, but soon I will become his vessel. His wisdom shall be mine! I am a god already, but then I will be all-powerful!”

He quieted himself with an effort, then grinned. “You’re free to stay as a witness marshal, though I’ll understand if you want to take your friend to a doctor first. It makes no difference to me.”

I had not been on the road for Bitter Water more than ten minutes when I heard Teague calling me from the back of the buckboard. I reined in the horses and moved to check on him.

“
What are you doing, Mather?”

“
I’m getting you to town,” I answered. “You need a doctor.”

“
Too late for that,” he said between gasps. “Lost too much blood already.”

“
You lie still,” I said, but he wasn’t listening.

“
You have to... go back,” he said. “You saw... what he is.”

“
I saw that nothing can hurt him,” I replied. “Even if I went back, there’s nothing I could do.”

He reached up and grasped my shirt front. He tried to say something but only succeeded in starting a bloody coughing spasm. After a moment, he fell quiet and slumped back. I’ve seen enough dead men to know that he wouldn’t speak again.

I felt ashamed, kneeling there that a wounded man should have so much more courage than I did. Maybe I
should
go back and die facing down an unstoppable enemy.

I started to lay the rosary on the dead man’s chest, but paused to look at it. Jehoiakim had flinched when he touched the beads. Had that just been distaste or had it affected him somehow? My many times Great-Grandfather Cotton had written that faith was the surest of all tools against the powers of darkness. Then again, Cotton would have called a rosary a papist idol.

I didn’t have any of the answers, I just knew that it was the only weapon I could try that had any chance. I gathered the dead man’s shotgun and headed back the way I had come.

As I neared the homestead I saw another light in the barnyard which outshone the bonfire. It came from a shimmering shape that I had a hard time getting my mind to accept. It was as if a hole to some other place had opened up in the night air. The shimmering light hung like a gauzy curtain over the opening and the silhouette of a man, taller than any I had ever seen, stood on the other side. The sight made my insides go cold.

“
Marshal!” Jehoiakim cried with delight, “You’re back just in time. My ascension is come!”

I dismounted and began to march straight at the preacher. I levelled the shotgun at his chest.

“
Mister, if you don’t stop this right now, I’m going to blow you in half!”

“
Do you think I’m afraid of you?” Jehoiakim asked, laughing. “Fool! What I have become is beyond your understanding!”

“
You think you’re a god because you’re bulletproof? I guess you’ve got some pretty low standards.” There was more bravado than conviction in my words, but I felt better for saying them.

“
I
am
a god!” he shouted.

“
If that’s the case, how about I give you a few prayers?”

I fired both barrels into Jehoiakim at point blank range. The blast shredded his robe and made a bloody mess of the chest underneath. The preacher dropped his black book and staggered backwards. He sank to his knees, a look of pain and disbelief on his face.

“
How?”

“
When I saw how silver didn’t bother you,” I replied. “I thought maybe a load of rosary beads would get your attention. You might have some protection against holy symbols, but I don’t imagine one has ever been presented to you like this.”

Jehoiakim clutched his chest more tightly. Even with his wounds, he had tremendous vitality. “Fall on him my children!” he cried, “Our Lord will heal this body as soon as he crosses the Threshold!”

“
Stay back!” I shouted. I drew my pistols and waved them menacingly. “I don’t want to kill you people, but I will.”

The worshippers faltered. They hadn’t been prepared for anything like this. They could kill me if they rushed me as a group, but only if they didn’t mind losing a bunch of their friends.

The silhouette behind the shimmering curtain reached toward me and I felt as if my heart would explode with fear. This wasn’t a man with powers, like Jehoiakim, it was something alien. I knew somehow that if it pierced the veil it would contaminate the world by its very presence.

I tore my eyes away from it and they fell on the black book lying open on the ground. I holstered one pistol and grabbed it. The tome was warm to the touch and I had the disquieting feeling that it was alive, but I ignored the sensation and threw the foul thing into the bonfire.

“
No
!” Jehoiakim screamed, “I can’t finish the ritual without the book!”

As the cover charred and the pages flashed into flame, the Lurker in the light changed. I hid my face instinctively. The screams of worshippers who had not been as quick filled the air.

Just as I closed my eyes, I saw something dark, like tendrils of shadow, wrap themselves around Brother Jehoiakim and drag him, screaming, toward the shimmering barrier.

In a moment, the screaming was over and the strange light was gone. I looked up to see the pitiful crowd of white-robed worshippers as they staggered around, babbling mindlessly. One woman stood tall, screaming at the sky, while a youth giggled, and hacked at his arms with a pocket knife. It was the same everywhere and it made me think of what I'd heard of insane asylums.

I turned away, unable to help and unwilling to watch the madness.

A week later, I was back in Fort Smith, face to face with the infamous Hanging Judge.

“
So you’ve come back empty handed,” he said after I’d finished my story.

“
There was nothing to bring back,” I replied. “All I could find were some bloodstains where he had been standing.”

“
I’ve a mind to believe you Mr. Mather,” Judge Parker said. “In fact, I think you’d be a fine lawman, if you chose.”

“
Maybe someday,” I said, “but not in Arkansas.”

“
Very well,” he replied. “You’ll be glad to know that I will have your record expunged of all charges right away.”

“
Thank you Judge.”

“
It’s the least I can do. After all, you carried out my instructions as well as any man could have.”

“
You mean about seeing that McMasters is ‘decently and quietly dead?’” I shook my head. “There wasn’t anything decent about what happened to him, or quiet. As far as his being dead...”

I didn’t finish the sentence. Despite all the monstrous things Jehoiakim had done, I hoped he
was
dead, but I suspected that his condition was something much worse, in that incomprehensible place beyond the shimmering veil.

Matthew Baugh was born and raised in the Southwest. He first discovered the historical Mysterious Dave Mather as a teen on a family trip from Albuquerque to Phoenix. Dave was listed in booklet on famous gunfighters that he bought in one of the little trading posts on the New Mexico/Arizona border. Matthew has been writing for publication for about six years and has a special love for weird westerns. His other Mysterious Dave stories have appeared in
Arkham Tales
, issue #1 of
In Lovecraft's
S
hadow
,
Frontier Cthulhu
, and the forthcoming
Tales from the Cauldron. 
When not writing strange tales, Matthew is the pastor of a church in the greater Chicago area.

by

Bill Craig

Thunder boomed outside the saloon, loud enough to rattle the panes of glass in the windows. Rain pelted the glass like pebbles and was blowing in sheets across the muddy street. Even the chandelier and kerosene lamps could do little to fight off the gloom caused by the gully washer hitting outside. Lightning flashed through the sky. Ty Remus sat at a green felt covered poker table shuffling the pasteboards back and forth as Sally Whitlaw, one of the soiled doves, leaned over the table giving him a generous view of her charms.

Ty and Sally had recently started keeping company and the other cowboys that came into the Silver Belle Saloon pretty much left her alone. Ty had a reputation of a man you didn’t mess with if you planned to keep on breathing, and it was a reputation that he courted. He didn’t look up when the batwing doors opened and the man wearing the slicker stepped inside. Not until Sally nudged him. Ty looked the man over, took in the way he moved and the way he had stepped immediately to the side of the doors before moving forward into the Saloon. Ty turned to the bartender and nodded and the man drew a draft and placed it in front of the stranger as he reached the long wooden bar. The stranger looked around questioningly and Ty raised a hand. The stranger nodded and carried the foam topped mug over to the table.

“
Thanks for the beer, friend.” the man sat down.

“
You looked thirsty, and I just can’t stand to see a man needing a drink on a stormy night.” Ty replied, sipping at his own beer.

“
I’m looking for someone. A man goes by the name of Lupo. You know him?” the man looked Ty in the eye. It was easy to read the determination on his face.

“
I might. I’d want to know who’s asking though.” Ty shrugged.

“
Fair enough. Name is Grady. Been on Lupo’s trail since Kansas.” the man replied.

“
What did he do, Grady?” Ty asked, curious. As far as he knew, Lupo had pretty much kept to himself since he had gotten back to town.

“
He murdered a whole family in Kansas. Tore them up like an animal had been at them. Never seen anything so horrible in my life.” Grady shook his head.

“
You sure it was him?” Ty asked.

“
Saw him walk into the house less than five minutes before the screams and fire began. By the time I busted down the front door he was busting out a back window. It was a full moon that night and I saw his face as if it were sunlight.” Grady shook his head, going pale at the memory. “The house was on fire and I liked to never made it out.”

“
And you followed him here.” Ty shook his head.

“
I was the city marshal at the time. Can’t let something like that go unpunished.” His voice was low and filled with pain.

“
I reckon not.” Ty replied sipping at his beer.

“
Got to get justice for that family. It was worse than what an Apache leaves after they get done torturing a man,” Grady shook his head. Ty nodded. He’d come upon on more than a few that the Apaches and Comanche’s had worked over. A chill went down his neck. It took a special kind of devil to be that mean.

“
You had no doubt it was Lupo?” Ty asked.

“
Not a one. I saw his face, blood dripping down his chin, smeared around his mouth. He had torn their throats out as they screamed. There were bodies everywhere.” Grady took another long pull at his beer.

“
Lupo’s been mostly a loner as long as I’ve knowed him. Never seen nothing out of him to make me think he’d do something that horrible though.” Ty shook his head.

“
Doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.” Grady sighed.

“
Doesn’t mean he did. Is there any chance you might have seen someone else and mistook them for Lupo?” Ty looked at him.

“
None. Besides, he was asking after the family the day before. Folks I talked to said he seemed pretty desperate to find them. Once he did, my God!” Grady looked into his beer.

“
You willing to talk before you shoot him?” Ty asked.

“
I might be.” Grady shrugged.

“
What kinda fancy, damn loads are you carrying there?” Ty asked noticing the cartridge tips in his belt.

“
Silver bullets. I ain’t taking no chances.” Grady looked him dead in the eye.

“
Silver Bullets?” Ty looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“
If Lupo needs killing, those are the only kind that will get it done.” Grady replied, his eyes looking haunted

“
Why do you say that?” Ty asked, not really sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“
Silver is the only thing that will kill a werewolf!” Grady replied solemnly.

“
A what?” Ty couldn’t believe his ears.

“
A werewolf. A man that turns into a beast under the light of a full moon.” Grady replied.

“
If I hadn’t just bought you your first drink I’d have to swear you been drinking afore you got here.” Ty shook his head.

“
Nope, after what I saw, I went down to New Orleans, talked to some of the voodoo women there. They told me all about werewolves, though they called them by their French name, Loup Garou. After what I saw that night in Kansas, I believe Lupo to be one.” Grady drained his beer.

Ty could see the determined look in his eye. “I reckon we need to ride then, I was about fixin’ to leave anyhow. Lupo has him a cabin outside town a ways, out near the timberline. I’ll take you out there because I want to know if you’re right.” Ty said, standing up. He led the way outside into the rain. Thunder rolled across the sky as they saddled their horses in the livery stable. Ty could see Grady’s horse had some traveling behind him and wasn’t the best to be riding on a night like this but there wasn’t no stopping the man. Grady had the scent and was on the hunt.

“
You take the lead.” Grady said, and Ty nodded. After all, he was the one that knew where they were going. Ty touched his spurs to his horse and headed out into the storm. Thunder rolled across the sky, but the rain was starting to let up. Grady knew that if he had things figured right, they needed to get there before the storm ended while the clouds still covered the full moon. “You really believe me?” Grady asked, kicking his horse up to where it was trotting beside Ty’s.

“
I’ve seen a lot of things over the years, Grady. I’ve lived among the Indians and I know their ways and their legends. Folks who turn to wolves are part of it.” Ty shrugged.

“
That’s why you don’t seem too surprised?” Grady looked at him.

“
That’s why.” Ty nodded. Grady nodded his head in response.

“
Lupo never stays around all that long when he’s here. From what you say, could be a good reason for that.” Ty shrugged.

“
Seems like he’d leave afore the killing urge took him over.” Grady agreed.

“
Makes sense. Doesn’t seem like he’d want folk around here to know he was some kinda haunt.” Ty replied.

“
How long you figure the rain will stay?” Grady asked, noticing that it had slowed down a good might.

“
Not much longer. I figure we ought to get there afore it does.” Ty replied.

“
Once the rain is done and the clouds part, well, it is a full moon tonight.” Grady shivered.

“
I’d forgot about that,” Ty nodded. “But it’s okay, Grady. That’s why I came with you.” Though the closer they got to Lupo’s cabin the more uneasy he was feeling. Ty began to think it might have been smarter to come out in the morning.

The rain had turned to a mist-like drizzle, barely enough to call it rain at all. Ty looked up at the sky and he knew Grady was doing the same. How much longer would the clouds last? That was the question on both their minds.

If Grady was right, and the moon came out, they wouldn’t be facing the gunfighter named Lupo. They’d be facing something far, far worse.

They reached the cabin, and from the lit windows they could tell that there was a fire in the hearth within. Together, they rode up and got off their horses. Ty noticed that Grady had the hammer thongs off his guns. If Lupo wasn’t what he thought, that could mean real trouble.

Ty sighed as he tied his horse to the rail in front of the house. He thought about what he knew of the man named Jededia Lupo. He had come west on a wagon-train. His parents had built a homestead in eastern Colorado. Then Indians, or somebody at least, had attacked, killing them both. Lupo had escaped, barely able to walk. His left leg injured at the time.

He had been raised by a Shawnee medicine woman. She found him after the attack and took him in. She raised him until he was nearly twenty. The Medicine woman had been killed in a raid by the Crow. From that time on, Lupo had been mostly on his own.

Lupo and Ty had rode together some over the years, and he had to admit that he liked him. Lupo was a good man. That was but one of the reasons it made what Grady had told him a bit hard to swallow. Ty walked up to the door and knocked. Grady was standing behind him, next to the horses. Ty was willing to bet he already had at least one of those short guns out of the holster and ready.

“
Who is it?” a familiar voice called from behind the door. Ty knew it was Lupo at once.

“
Remus. Ty Remus!” Ty replied. The door swung open and Lupo stood there, calm as could be.

“
What are you doing here, Remus?” Lupo asked, his voice as cold as a winter night.

“
Got a feller out here that wants to talk to you about something that happened down Kansas way.” Ty shrugged.

“
Have him step into the light.” Wolf commanded. Ty didn’t even think of disobeying.

“
Grady, come up so’s he can see you.” Ty called over his shoulder.

“
I kin smell him and that’s close enough. Marshal, you made a mistake. I didn’t kill them folks, but I tangled with the ones that did.” Lupo called out.

“
I saw you, Lupo. I saw your face, covered with blood, still howling at the moon.” Grady shouted. Ty was right, he did have guns in both his hands, ready for anything that happened. Grady raised his revolvers. Ty saw his fingers start to tighten on the triggers.

“
You can’t believe I’d ever hurt those kids. It was me that got them out!”

“
What do you mean?” Grady asked, hesitant somehow.

“
A man like me’s got enemies and those poor folks were doin’ me a favor, protecting what’s mine….” Lupo let it hang.

About that time, the clouds slid away from the face of the moon. Grady saw the look on Lupo’s face and his lingering doubts vanished. Lupo began to change. Ty slapped at his own pistol but it was no use, because the hand that tried to grip the pistol wasn’t a hand anymore. It was then that Grady realized that Ty was one of them, a werewolf!

Ty spun on Grady, lurching in front of him as his pistol fired. Something slammed hard into his gut, but Ty raked out at him with his clawed fingers. The marshal fell back, dropping one of his guns as Ty ripped at him with his claws, searching for his throat with the fangs that had distended from his jaws. Finally, Ty sank his fangs deep, ripping the man’s throat apart! Hot blood coursed down his throat. Pain exploded through his body. The silver bullet was poisoning him.

Behind him, Ty heard Lupo growl, but Ty knew that it was not aimed at him. Instead Lupo was concerned, worried about him. They were old friends. Usually, Ty was the one to stay around and make sure that no trail would lead back to Lupo. Not this time. This time Lupo was on his own. “Ty took a deep breath and let it out. It was no longer up to him. Ty had taken one of the bullets meant for Lupo, and he was dying, the silver death coursing through his veins.

“
Lupo!” Ty gasped,

“
Remus.” he responded.

“
Get her out of here. Keep her free.” Ty gasped. Lupo knew he meant Sally.

“
I will.” he whispered.

“
You should check on your kids more often,” Ty gasped past the pain. “This whole mess should never have happened.”

Lupo looked at him, his cinnamon colored eyes meeting Ty’s. “I will, Remus.” he nodded.

“
They need to know their father. They need to know who and what they are…” Ty looked at him.

“
They will,” he promised.

“
It’s getting dark, Lupo,” Ty cried, pain twisting his guts