The Two Devils (4 page)

"I ain't in league. That chest, it's from hell. It belongs in hell. Whatever's in it, don't belong in this world.” My words were pointless. He wasn't listening.

He just caressed the side of the sturdy little case. “Must be mighty special."

"I'm sure he'd give you a reward.” It was all I could think of.

"I've looked into hell itself, Miles.” He picked up the chest. “This is mine."

And I was standing there by myself, in some store, in some two-bit town.

The next morning, I checked out of the otel. I had no idea where I was heading or what to do next. I'd made it, perhaps, a mile out of town when a black carriage rode up next to me. The door opened. Though I didn't recognize the driver, I certainly did know the passenger in back. I climbed on board. It felt so good to sit down. “Boy am I glad to see you."

"You know, Miles, I don't recall anyone ever telling me that before,” Nick said.

"I had it.” I pointed my thumb back toward town. “In the dry goods store. I had it. Then Clyde shows up with a gun."

"Who is this Clyde?” Nick asked.

"The miner that busted through the wall of hell."

Nick nodded. “Tall fellow."

"That's him.” I eased back into the quite comfortable seat.

"Miles, I really need that chest back, before fools like this Clyde get it opened,” Nick said. “I think, perhaps, you need some help in your task."

"Help?"

"Well, I think you need an equal footing, so to speak. Walking around the desolate sites of the Great Basin Desert, well it's too time consuming, Miles. We need results.” Nick snapped his fingers, and the carriage stopped.

I noticed there was a tall black stallion grazing next to the road. It had a black and silver saddle on its back. A new rifle stuck out of the saddlebags.

"Miles, there's money in those saddlebags. Now, I do expect a receipt for all expenditures."

"Did I mention I'm afraid of horses?"

Nick buried his hands in his face. Then he let out a sigh. He opened his door and climbed out. “This horse is named Paul."

"Paul?"

"Yes, Paul. That's his name.” Nick snapped his fingers, and the horse came right over to him. “Paul, this is Miles. Serve him well."

The horse scraped its front hooves on the ground and nodded its head. Then he looked me over and shook his head from side to side.

"Make the best of it.” I wasn't sure if he was addressing me or the horse. Nick climbed back inside the carriage. “And, there's a six-gun in the saddle bag."

"I don't really know how to shoot."

He sort of groaned when he closed the door. He rapped on the roof, and the carriage took off, leaving me standing there with this really big horse.

"Well, here we are.” I approached the horse named Paul and climbed up on the saddle. “Well, get up then.” The horse started off down the road. I wanted him to know he could go where he wanted. I didn't have any idea where to go anyhow. And I sure wasn't one to argue with him.

So, we headed off toward Reno. Reno was becoming more of a regular town, with real buildings that had walls made from wood instead of the canvas tents I was getting used to in mining camps. Paul strolled down Virginia Avenue like he knew what he was doing. “Let's put you in the livery stable and I'll find a real, honest-to-goodness hotel for the night.” I decided to splurge. I doubted they had an otel. I figured you only found them in rundown little towns.

I found myself a hotel room and stretched out on the bed. The room afforded a nice view of the street. I would've liked to have gone to a café to get something to eat. Since I was out of my money, I just laid there gazing out the window. If Nick had left money in the saddlebag, I sure couldn't find it. After a few hours of this, I noticed my horse mosey by. He was by himself, with saddle. That got my attention. I raced down the stairs and out the front door. The horse was way down the street, peering through a window of a gambling saloon. I was out of breath when I caught up.

I noticed a saloon girl was taking a large tray of drinks upstairs. Most of the time, most folks don't go upstairs with saloon girls to do a lot of drinking. Either there was a private poker game, or something sinister was going on. “I'll check it out; be out back,” I told the horse.

Folks never paid me no mind when I entered a place. But I did get some suspicious looks when I started up the stairs. I figured I'd just look like I knew what I was doing, and no one would bother me. There were five rooms up there. The question was, which room? I didn't want to interrupt a fellow enjoying the fruits of his hard work in some mine. But the horse wasn't down there for nothing.

A loud belch erupted from the back room. I decided on that room and cautiously opened the door. Four men and one saloon girl, all with drinks in hand, were surrounding the chest, which was on top of a small table.

From the looks on their faces, they were not too pleased with my arrival. I recognized Clyde as one of the group. Then I noticed a hammer and crowbar next to the chest. “That chest doesn't belong to you,” I insisted.

Clyde pointed a long bony finger at me. “That man is in league with Satan."

I didn't view it quite that way. “Now, that chest ain't yours, Clyde. And I can't even figure why you want it. It can't be nothing but trouble inside."

Clyde pulled a gun on me. I sure wished he hadn't done that.

I was wearing the six-gun Nick gave me. Now, figuring on account who gave it to me, I didn't quite know what to expect when I went for it. The gun slid right out of the holster and into my hand. And my bullet hit Clyde's revolver and sent it flying. From the looks of his hand, a finger or two may have been broke in the process. It was like the gun just knew where I wanted it to shoot.

"Now, I ain't got no quarrel with the rest of you. This chest is going back to its owner. You folks just stay seated like you are now, and no one else need get hurt.” I picked up the chest and backed toward the door. At the last second, I made sure nobody was lurking outside waiting to ambush me. If it'd been my establishment, I'd have been concerned with shooting going on. But there wasn't anyone there, so I raced down the back stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door. Paul was waiting for me. I hopped up on him and we were off.

There was some commotion behind us. I didn't look back. I kept waiting for somebody to shoot me, but no one did. Now I was mainly just trying to balance this little sturdy chest. Paul's stride was pretty smooth for a horse. It wasn't too bad, holding on to everything. One thing puzzled me; we were going away from the mine, heading up toward Donner Pass and Lake Tahoe. I sure was glad it wasn't winter. I figured Paul knew where he was going, so I didn't argue.

It was getting dark, so I decided to make camp at a flat, sheltered spot overlooking the Truckee River. I wanted to climb down to the water and catch me a fish, but the trunk was heavy enough I didn't want to lug it all the way down to the water and back up. There was no way I was leaving it anywhere out of my sight. So, I sat by the fire listening to the roaring water below as I thought about how hungry and thirsty I was. Eventually, I must've drifted off to sleep.

I came to later on. It was still dark. The fire was just embers. The chest I'd been using for a pillow was gone. At least the moon was up, and I could make out some fresh hoof prints in the dirt. I followed them along the narrow mountainside trail until I came to a clearing a bout a mile from my camp. The horse was standing quietly in the shadows. “Why didn't you wake me up?” I whispered. Paul looked down at the ground. “You slept through it too?” Then Paul looked away and I followed his gaze.

Well, there was a campfire blazing. These things Nick called lost souls—some would say they're ghosts; I don't rightly know—but there were these three shimmering aberrations, including the one I figure first stole the chest, sort of dancing around the fire. Then, something real frightening happened.

Clyde and them other people from town showed up. I counted. There were seven this time. They'd added two new ones. The people all formed a circle around the trunk while the spirit things floated upward until they danced in the air above them.

I slid the rifle out of the saddlebag and readied my six-gun as well. I cocked the hammer and marched out into the clearing. “I don't know why I have to keep repeating this. That chest don't belong to you."

They stopped dancing. “Miles, you have no idea what we have.” Clyde started toward me, then stopped when I aimed the rifle at him. “Miles, this chest, it contains something truly remarkable. It took us nearly fifty years to figure out how to steal it."

"Steal it?” I asked. “You planned this?"

He held his hand up in the air, more to calm his companions than me. “Miles, do you know anything about Greek mythology?"

"Yes, I do.” People think I'm an idiot. They're usually right. But my grandmother read me most of the Greek myths when I was little. That and the Bible is two things I know something about.

Clyde seemed surprised. “The god, Hades. Do you know how he controlled the underworld?"

"He had a helmet. It gave him invisibility,” I answered. “Hades was not the Christian devil,” I added as an afterthought.

"No, you idiot, he was not.” Clyde picked up the chest. “But things changed. There's still an underworld. And this thing we call Satan rules it now.” He gazed at the chest. “And this chest contains the helmet of his predecessor.” He handed the chest to some other fellow. “And I—we—will soon rule the world."

This was leading to something I'd been worrying about since I got talked into this job. I'd wondered if I could actually kill someone in order to get this job done. Killing on Nick's behalf, that troubled me. And there I stood. I had the drop on them. But I didn't know what to do next.

I guess the horse figured I didn't know what I was doing, either. Paul charged out of the darkness snorting and rearing with his hooves slashing.

That diverted everyone's attention. As they dove for cover, I dove for the chest. Somehow, I ended up on the back of the horse and we were off.

The spirits and all seven people were soon in pursuit as we raced along a narrow trail in the darkness. At least twice, I caught glimpses of man and horse plummeting down into the river canyon. Soon, we were all alone.

Their horses were no match for Paul which then stopped, looked around, then climbed up a steep embankment.

The railroad had a series of tunnels near the top of the ridgeline. This was mainly to protect the track from the heavy snows and avalanches during the winter. Paul found a wooden partition that filled up a natural opening. There was just enough room to squeeze through. I dearly hoped there weren't any trains scheduled. The enclosed track ran for miles. I'd ridden the train through here once, after I got fired at the Stockton Feed and Livery and headed for Nevada.

We straddled the tracks for a few hundred yards, then turned abruptly to our left and descended into a very dark cavern. The cavern widened out, and there was a little light coming from somewhere. We came to a rusty, crooked metal gate. The gate was locked. I rang the bell hanging from it. A few minutes went by, then a demon sauntered up from somewhere. “What do you want?"

"I need to see Nick Mephistopheles,” I explained.

He stood there a moment. “What's it worth to you?” he finally asked.

"Nothing. Believe me, he wants to see me."

He made a gesture of some kind. I don't think it was very flattering. “Ah, screw you.” Then he reared back and hurled a fireball at me.

I guess these fireballs scare people. They're fearsome things, coming at you. But, I'm not impressed. They're all show. I deflected it away with the butt of my revolver. It exploded against the cavern wall. “I think you best summon your master. My business is most important."

The demon sneered at me. “You wish."

"Well done, Miles,” Nick said. He was standing right behind me. I don't know where he came from. “Well done indeed.” I was still on the horse. I handed him down the chest. He examined it, especially that the lock was still intact, then handed it to Ellul, who was now standing next to him. The demon also inspected it, then poised it on his shoulder. “Miles, you should've gotten our terms down in advance. I really don't have much incentive to compensate you."

"Oh, this horse here, and that gun you gave me is plenty, sir,” I said. “I'm not greedy. You've been most fair."

He looked at me oddly. “I don't recall giving you Paul, or the gun."

"Sure you did,” I argued.

He shook his head. “Certainly not."

"You did. Just ask Paul."

The horse nodded his head up and down.

"See."

"I could kill him,” Ellul suggested. “Rip his head off.” The other demon came out from behind the gate.

I placed my palm on the butt of the six-gun. “This shoots real good,” I told the demon. Ellul backed off a bit. “Nick, let's not go ruining our relationship over a six-gun and a horse. You got your chest back."

To my surprise, he extended his hand up to me. “That's a damn fine horse, Miles. I'm sure he'll serve you well."

"I know.” And I shook his clammy hand. “We'll see ya, Nick."

"Count on it,” Nick said with a grin as he waved goodbye.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Paul, like most horses, sleeps standing up. I prefer to lie down. I'd just established a fire and was letting out my new bedroll so it could collect dust, when Paul suddenly took off down the trail. A few minutes later, he was back, nuzzling a mare that looked a lot like he did. They clearly knew each other, and he seemed quite glad to see her.

I was more curious about the woman riding her. She was gorgeous, a complete knockout. She climbed off her horse and straightened out a rather frilly French-cut blue dress. This brunette with eyes like shining emeralds smiled at me. She had the prettiest smile.

"You must be Miles,” she said.

I had to think for a second, then I remembered that was my name.

"Yes ma'am."

She looked at the fire. “Do you have any more coffee?"