The Best of Penny Dread Tales (16 page)

There were signs of chaos, overturned chairs, broken windows. The town appeared as it did after the Claw Rock Gang went through it. The town’s padre approached Matt with a message that turned the Sheriff’s blood to ice.

No one was to touch Ram’s body on orders from a very much alive Jimmy Kettle.

Before the Father could explain further, Matt rushed home to find his home ripped asunder. He raced through the three rooms and to the back yard. There were no signs of his wife or child.

At Ram’s funeral parlor, an inconsolable Sadie tore at him as soon as he stepped through the door, alternating between beating Matt and trying to gouge his eyes out. Visiting nuns from the church managed to get her restrained.

“What happened? Where are Sarah and Trina?”

The holy women crossed themselves, and Sadie composed herself enough to speak.

“This is all your fault. If you’d done left Kettle alone, he would have bothered us for a while, and then moved on when he saw there was nothing else for him here. But no! You had to play the hero and you just had to drag Ram along. Wanted to make a big name for yourself, didn’t ya? Bigger than Fossett. Bigger than God! Look where it got us!”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook his sister-in-law. “Where. Is. My. Wife?”

“They took her,” one of the nuns began. “Unholy creatures.”

The other one picked up with, “‘And it is said in the last days, the dead shall rise and walk the earth.’” She pointed at Matt. “You’ve brought on the apocalypse, Sheriff. Kettle has unleashed demons. He is in league with Satan! And it’s all because of you!”

Matt looked at Sadie. “What is she talking about?”

Sadie wept. “Kettle came back into town. He had men with him. His gang. Some were alive. Others …”

Not understanding, Matt asked, “He brought dead bodies with him?”

“Walking corpses they were. Their souls are in Hell, but their bodies still moved, possessed by demons!”

“Sister, there is no—”

“Tell that to the dozens who saw them, Sheriff! Tell that to the priest who soiled his cloth. Tell that to your brother-in-law!”

“They came at Ram and he fired,” Sadie interjected, “He kept firing, but they wouldn’t go down. T-they weren’t alive. They swarmed him, about six of them. He k-kept fighting as they tore his body apart.” She sobbed. “Kettle told us to not touch the body. That it would be a lesson to us all. Not even death would stop him.”

Matt thought back to what Ram had said about the Voodoo man. There had to be a connection. Could he really bring back the dead? Even just their bodies?

“Sarah and Trina. What happened?”

She could barely get the words out. “H-he took them. Left a message for you to come to Claw Rock, alone. Or he’d kill them.”

Matt turned and double-timed it from the funeral parlor.

Sadie followed him to the porch. “You bring her back! Even if you have to die, yourself. Don’t come back without them! You hear me, Ragsdale? Don’t show your face in this town again if you don’t bring them back!”

The words echoed in Matt’s ears as he loaded his saddlebags with more guns than he thought wise to carry. He had no plan for his return to Claw Rock, only a target.

He stopped by the Sagebrush. No music wafted through the rafters. Men huddled over drinks. Women consoled each other, dabbing eyes. Most of the town was in attendance.

“Who’s with me?”

No one would meet his eyes.

“They’ve taken my family.
Your
families will be next.” He spoke slowly, but forcefully, “Who is with me?”

Frank Chalker, the town’s blacksmith, spoke up, “We’ve seen what happens when someone rides with you, Sheriff. Best you be off, now. Go.”

“Cowards!” Matt spat on the floor. “You let them walk into our town. Beat our women. Kill good men. Take whatever they want, including a child. And you won’t lift a finger to help? You hide, afraid for your lives. What kinda life is that?”

Another man called out. “Kettle’s got demons or something riding with him now. We can’t fight that!”

Matt moved around the back of the bar where Owner kept a Bible. He grabbed it and flung it hard down on the counter.

“You tell me, in this book you all profess to believe in, where it says evil is stronger than good? Anybody?”

No one spoke, nor moved, nor barely breathed.

Disgusted, the sheriff went to the front door. With his back to the crowd, he removed his badge and tossed it away.

“Y’all are dead to me. Dead as those things Kettle calls men.”

***

Matt moved forward through the brush much the same way he and Ram had the other night, painfully putting into perspective why he was back there so soon. The patrols were no longer two men marching side by side, but one undead creature that used to be a member of the Claw Rock Gang.

Their milky white, sunken eyes never blinked.

Matt tracked them from Fossett’s lookout as they moved slowly in formation. He spotted the two he and Ram had killed by the flapping neck flesh and then counted six more in various states of damage and dismemberment; from missing arms to crushed skulls. Not all the gang had been killed, several still living outlaws could be seen. Those among the still living were Kettle’s Voodoo priest and Kettle himself.

Matt discovered the walking corpses didn’t hunt by sight or smell. When he’d taken a step towards one, it turned slightly. Stepping back, it returned to its original position. Step forward, turn. Step back, return. He deduced they must have a sense for the living, as if his beating heart drew them. That changed his tactics.

Sadie said that guns had little effect, but Ram had a Remington while Matt brought his father’s Sharps Big 50. He considered what the walking corpses would do without their heads.

Somebody behind Matt kicked a rock, so he rolled and drew. A Wiipukepaya scout held his hands up to show he wasn’t armed. Matt uncocked his sidearm with a sigh of relief. The scout motioned for Matt to follow, and the former lawman figured he had nothing to lose.

***

The late afternoon sun always made the red rock of the area glow, as if the heat absorbed by the stone monuments was released back into the world.

Matthew Ragsdale walked right up to the villain’s camp unarmed. He hadn’t set two feet into the area before he was set upon by living corpses. He wasn’t attacked in any way, just subdued and led forward. He tested their grip on him and it was if his arms were in irons.

Matt took in the scattered rocks that circled the front of the cave. Blood and scratches coated the many of the large boulders.

A devil’s laugh bounced off the red sandstone walls of the cave.

“You’re late.”

Kettle’s granite form stepped out from the darkness of the cave. Built like a lumberjack, Kettle’s muscles appeared ready to burst from the seams of his shirt. He cinched his belt closed as he approached Matt. “I’ve already finished. I expected you to hear her screams when you arrived and do something stupid.” He grabbed Matt’s chin and tilted it up. “I really wanted you to do something stupid.”

Understanding the implications of Kettle’s words, Matt lurched at the outlaw, pulling with everything he had to break free. His futility brought amusement to Kettle’s face. The former lawman cursed and foamed at the mouth.

“You cocksucker! You’re a dead man! You hear me? If you hurt her in any way, I’ll rip your balls off with my bare hands!”

Kettle moved to a chair that sat waiting for him on his imaginary stage. “Oh, she struggled at first, mind you. But I think by the second time, she quite enjoyed it. Turns out she’d only been with boys, not a real man like myself.”

“Sarah! Sarah! I’m here! Where is she you fucking monster?”

The outlaw made a motion, and two of his living gang went into the cave. Moments later they dragged Sarah Ragsdale’s partially conscious body out. Her clothes were torn, and when they dropped her in front of Kettle, Matt could see blood on the inside of her leg. She made little choked sobs, and her husband couldn’t tell if she knew what was happening anymore.

“Oh, my god! Sarah. Sarah!” Tears of futility ran down Matthew’s cheek. He shook them free and glared at Kettle. “You goddam bastard. If you touched my daughter in any way …”

The Voodoo man followed shortly after Kettle’s men, pushing Trina forward. He had hands on her shoulder and steered her until they stood beside Kettle. Cheeks stained from crying, Trina held her rag doll tight against her chest, like a cross to ward off evil.

“I haven’t done anything to the girl, yet. She’s too young. After you’re dead, I plan to sell her to a whore house. Once she bleeds, I plan to be the first one to taste her flesh.” Kettle gave a pensive look. “I wonder which one will be better? Mother or daughter?” He glowered over Matt. “I’m sure it’ll be your daughter. She’ll be fresh, unspoiled. And after she watches what I do to her daddy, obedient!”

The two locked eyes, testing the seriousness of the other’s will; hatred radiating off their bodies like the desert in summer.

As if to accent the tension, thunder rolled in the distance. To the north of their position ran Oak Creek and from there the trail up to Flagstaff. A storm rolled down the mountain.

Everyone alive could taste death in the air. Gang members, licking their dry lips, backed away from their boss, the Voodoo man held tighter to his charge, and even the walking dead seemed nervous.

Matt gave first. His head dropped to his chest and in a voice, barely over a whisper, he pleaded, “What do you want? I’ll do anything. Just let them go.”

Kettle leaned forward. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I said, ‘You Win!’ Take the damn town. Take whatever you want. Take me, my life. Just let them go!”

The madman stood. “I don’t need your permission for that, Lawman! I never did. What I need now is payback. You tried to kill me. Nearly succeeded. All I want now is revenge.”

“Then take it. Do whatever you want. Beat me senseless. Kill me in the most spiteful way you can imagine. Just let them go.”

Kettle scanned his two hostages. “No, I don’t think I will. Your wife will recover and I think I can get some more use out of her before she’s unable to walk. And I already told you what I have planned for your little girl. No, I think I will kill you, just as you suggest. Slowly. Painfully. And all the time, you’ll know that I have your family.”

He walked up close to Matt again and said, “I nearly lost all hope in that cave, you know. Luckily, I had my witch doctor with me. He didn’t like being trapped any more than I did.”

To accentuate the point, the Voodoo man slid his hands closer to Trina’s neck.

“He brought my dead men back to life. Controls them now, he does. They don’t feel pain like we do. Dug us a nice tunnel out. Of course, Claw Rock has a few more claw marks in it now.”

Matt’s face took on a strange mix of confidence and satisfaction. Kettle took a step back, his brow furrowed.

“So, the Voodoo man controls the corpses, huh?” Matt asked.

“What?”

“Your lease’s been revoked, Kettle.”

Matt gave a whistle that was answered by two whooshes as a pair of arrows flew in. One struck the Voodoo man in his upper torso. He fell back against the rock, releasing Trina. The stocky man staggered, but kept standing. Matt cursed it wasn’t a killing blow.

The second arrow hit the walking corpse to Matt’s right. The charge that burned on it was small and the fuse short. The explosion that followed had just enough to blow the once living killer apart. The creature on Matt’s left didn’t react at all, still holding the former lawman tight. With one arm free, Matt tried to escape, but the death grip remained.

Kettle ran to where Sarah slowly got to her knees. The gang leader yanked her up and held her like a shield in front of him, one meaty arm wrapped around her waist, his pistol drawn and poking her in the side.

More explosions could be heard, as the Wiipukepaya took out the walking abominations.

“Call them off, Sheriff! I’ll kill her! You know I will!”

Awareness returned to Sarah face. Her eyes darted wildly, finding her husband. Shame, anger, and pain marred the face that once only showed him love and laughter.

Matt reached a hand out toward her.

Sarah mouthed, “Save Trina,” and then reached back to where Kettle’s Apache knife pressed against her back. She fumbled it free from its sheath and, cocking an arm behind her head, cut Jimmy Kettle from ear to jaw. The outlaw threw Sarah down, holding his free hand to his gushing face. Snarling, he fired three shots into Matthew Ragsdale’s wife.

Noise stopped. Matt could no longer hear the cries as Indians appeared everywhere to shoot the living and dead members of the Claw Rock Gang. He couldn’t hear the moans as the walking corpses attacked, shrugging off damage and ripping warriors apart.

All Matt could hear was the blood pumping through his ears as his wife’s arm dropped limp and lay there motionless. He barely noticed when the Wiipukepaya chief chopped his jailer corpse’s arm free from its body. Suddenly released, Matt ran to his wife, clinging to the hope that he’d find a spark of life there, but finding none. He pulled her to his chest and cradled her.

Sound returned as Trina called to him.

“DADDY!”

Wildly he searched. Kettle was gone. The monsters fought the Yavapai warriors, one corpse to five warriors, and the corpses were getting the upper hand. Their number seemed to increase and Matt swore he caught a fallen Indian rising out of the corner of his eye.

Just in time, Matt saw the Voodoo man dart into the cave with Trina.

Not wanting to be distracted any further, Matt searched for a gun, knowing his grief would have to wait and, upon finding a fully loaded Colt, set off after his daughter.

***

The tunnel extended farther down than Matt would have expected. An escaping flicker of light below meant Matt would also need a torch to follow them. He found a lantern with busted glass, but still contained oil. He lit it, hating the fact that it’d make him a target.

A dozen feet. Two dozen feet. He lost track how far down he went. The path opened up on a cavern easily as big as the Sagebrush. Stalagmites and stalactites made a cobweb of stone throughout. In the center, a locomotive-sized pit yawned.