The Two Devils (22 page)

"Where did you get it?"

"Nick gave it to me,” I answered. “He buys good stuff, but I don't know where it came from."

"Call him by his name!” Ah Puch demanded.

"Well, he told me to call him Nick,” I insisted.

He held up my revolver and examined it. His big owl eyes couldn't seem to get enough of it. “Remarkable workmanship.” He placed it back down. “And the horse, the big black horse you ride. Where did it come from?"

"Nick gave him to me."

"Gave him to you?"

"That is correct. I retrieved some property a while back. Nick was very appreciative."

His big eyes grew a little bigger. “The Helmet of Hades. That, like so much, should belong to me."

"Look, whatever beef you've got with Nick—Mr. Mephistopheles—take it up with him. Maybe you two could have a duel or something."

He jumped off the sofa and picked me up with one hand. He placed me in a chair, a red crushed velvet chair that was rather comfortable. Then he seated himself again. “A duel, I like that. I really do. A shame it is not likely to happen.” He stared off at the ceiling for a moment. “That horse of yours has escaped. General Creed informs me this is not the first time. Is he likely to go and warn the sheriff in Sacramento? The governor?"

The thought of Paul warning anyone seemed comical. “Uh ... he might. I don't know what he's up to.” I figured I'd be happy to feed this guy's paranoia a little. “He's a real smart horse."

"No matter, plans are already in place. In a few hours, it will not matter. California will be mine.” Ah Puch poured himself a small glass of what looked like sherry. He drank it in one effort. He did not offer me one. After emptying the glass, his attention returned to my revolver. “I really like the balance of this gun. I really do.” He rang a small dinner bell.

A fellow in one of those colorful robes trotted in. Ah Puch aimed the gun at him and fired. A hole punched through the poor fellow's face, and the back of his head exploded. The man was dead before his body hit the floor.

"Remarkable accuracy for a handgun. It is truly remarkable. May I have it?” He looked at me with those huge eyes. “May I?"

"You already do,” I said, once again stating the obvious.

He held it in front of his face. “No, Mr. O'Malley. I hold it. I just killed a man with it. However, only a thief could convince himself this weapon was his. I am no thief.” Ah Puch placed the gun on the little table. “May I have it? I will make it worth your while."

"How so?"

"I'll give you your freedom, in exchange for this weapon. You can go."

"I can go?"

"Yes,” he promised.

"I accept."

"Excellent.” Again, he rang the dinner bell. Again, some guy in robes raced in. “He pointed at the dead body. “I want that removed.” Then he clicked open a folding knife, went behind me and cut loose the ropes that restrained me. “Mr. O'Malley is free to go. I want to hear nothing of any ambushes or accidents. He is free. Assign someone, an officer, to escort him safely out of camp."

"Yes, Great Lord,” the fellow in the robe said.

Ah Puch, Mayan God of the Underworld, aimed the revolver at a spider on the wall. “Follow the priest out, Mr. O'Malley. You will not be harmed.” He fired the gun and the spider was blown asunder and replaced by a hole in the wall. He made a kind of screeching noise. I was more than happy to leave that wagon.

I was escorted by some guy in gray with captain's insignia, assuming their army used the same insignia as the United States did. A few of the sentries eyed me suspiciously, but no one tried to prevent my departure.

Ah Puch's strange code of conduct won my release. That, and the fact I'm sure he felt I would have no hope of interfering with his plans. At the perimeter of their camp, the captain pointed at the road, then headed back.

I started walking as fast as I could without appearing to run. I was just a little afraid someone might change their mind. I was especially nervous what General Creed might do when he found out. So, after plodding along for ten minutes, I found the road passed near a small mound. I climbed it.

There was an excellent view of the camp. The troops were moving out. They might take Sacramento. I certainly doubted the city was expecting a dawn invasion. From what I'd seen, I seriously doubted he had the resources to take over the entire state. Then, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Something bumped me from behind. I jerked my head around. At times, Paul could be amazingly silent. His jet-black color also made him nearly invisible. I was so glad to see him I hugged his big neck. “Boy, am I glad to see you."

My horse snorted.

"Ah Puch thought you might be warning the governor."

My horse snorted, again.

I pulled my rifle out of the saddlebags. Ah Puch may have been taken with the workmanship of my revolver. I didn't think he knew the same workmanship had produced a very fine repeating rifle as well.

"Paul, we need to go back. I've got to stop these guys."

My horse snorted again, this time a lot louder.

I knew I could not possibly stop General Creed's army, but I thought I might be able to stop their god. I wasn't really sure what Ah Puch really was. If he was a god from some dead civilization, I wondered what he was doing trying to take over California. On the other hand, he sure wasn't a human being. All I knew was he'd savagely tore apart the major and devoured his heart. He'd sent assassins after me.

This was an evil creature and it needed to die. What I did not know was the extent of his powers, if he had any. I still had another of the titanium bullets that I was supposed to have gotten rid of. God Himself told me they had no particular power. Yet, the angels and demons were all scared to death of them. Then there was the matter of the ghost that one of them destroyed. I decided to use one on Ah Puch. My dilemma was how best to use it.

I could let him know I had one. That might, or might not, add an element of fear. Ultimately, I decided to keep the element of surprise.

"Paul, this is asking a lot of a horse. But, Ah Puch thinks you're a super horse."

I took a position that was going to be about a 150-yard shot. This was farther than most rifles could shoot accurately. I'd been unable to hit things at this distance in the past, even with this rifle. However, it was as close as I could get. Most of the soldiers had moved out. There were still a few sentries posted around the perimeter. Any closer, and I would not be able to wait for an opportunity.

And I did have to wait. It was about an hour before Ah Puch was near the window on the side of the wagon. When I saw him, I patted Paul's flank. My horse took off. I could have sworn he'd been practicing stealth techniques. I could barely see or hear him. My horse covered the distance in seconds. Then, he started tapping on the window.

Ah Puch seemed startled, but he opened the window. “Mr. O'Malley isn't here.” He looked around. I suspected he had incredible night vision, as a real owl does. I was suddenly afraid he could see me as I was taking aim. It was not me he was looking for. “Guard!” he yelled. “Corral this horse.” He looked back at Paul “We'll take care of you, horsey.” Then he noticed the note in Paul's mouth. He opened up the piece of paper. I gave him just a second to begin to read the two-word message. As he read ‘titanium bullets’ on the crumpled paper, I squeezed the trigger.

The bullet roared through the still night air. Ah Puch, the Mayan God of the Underworld, was struck square in the chest. He fell backward and vanished from view. I do not know if the thought of titanium bullets played any role in anything. A regular bullet might have done the same thing.

To my horror, my horse briefly stuck his head inside the wagon. I thought he was trying to see if Ah Puch was dead.

He wasn't. He came racing back to me.

I jumped on him and we were off, galloping as fast as possible. When we were half a mile away, my horse stopped. I realized there was something in his mouth. I took my revolver from him. That was why he'd stuck his head inside. “Paul, I don't know what to say.” We began moving again, only at a more normal pace.

The bird man was only part of the problem. General Creed and all of his troops were still out there marching on Sacramento. And, I had no idea how to stop them or even warn anybody. And Paul was heading away from them.

I could not really blame him. I didn't want to go the other way, either. But the cavalry soldiers and the major were dead. There was no one else.

I realized we were near the crater where the Martian monster had crashed. The crater was now a lake, or more of a pond. The cave area was underwater. I knew there was still a topside entrance, but any supplies would still be underwater. And General Creed seemed to think there was no more ammunition. Checking to see if the second Gatling gun remained would be pointless.

Then, I noticed something moving, near the rocks that concealed the cave entrance. “Who goes there?” I challenged, as I readied my revolver, unsure if it was even loaded. I didn't know how many shots Ah Puch had taken with it.

Someone moved away from the rocks. Paul shook his head and started backing up. “Easy boy,” I said.

"Miles. Miles, is that you?” a woman asked.

"Angel?"

My horse snorted.

"She's not really crazy. It's just her job,” I whispered to Paul. My horse snorted, again

"Miles, I'm looking for the major. We're also missing twenty soldiers,” Angel informed me.

"You'll find their bodies in that pond there."

"All of them?"

I climbed off my horse. “All dead."

"General Creed?"

I pointed to a spot behind her. “They gunned down all the soldiers. The major and I were taken prisoner."

"You've escaped."

"Something like that. The major was not so lucky,” I said.

"Executed?"

"No, something more gruesome."

She looked at me for a minute. “More gruesome? What has General Creed done now? Resorted to cannibalism?"

"No, General Creed didn't eat the major,” I explained.

When she decided I was not offering any more detail to my answer, she asked, “Then who did?"

"Ah Puch,” I answered. I didn't want to talk about the gruesome spectacle, though I understood her curiosity.

"There really is an Ah Puch?"

"Owl head and all."

She put her hands on her hips. “We didn't think there was such a thing.” She thought a moment. “Where are they now?"

"Their camp was down the road. They're marching on Sacramento as we speak. They plan to take the city at dawn."

She went over toward Paul, but he moved away from her. “Why doesn't your horse like me? We've got to warn them."

"How, dear lady?” I asked. “General Creed's forces are between us and town. There's no telegraph line."

"There must be a way,” she insisted.

There was a sudden screech above us, then Ah Puch—at least the bird part of him—landed next to the flooded crater. “Angel, this is Ah Puch. I'd hoped he was dead. Apparently, he is not."

"The titanium bullet, that was quite a surprise. That has no effect on me. No bullet can kill Ah Puch. I was invented before bullets. Still, I admire your initiative,” Ah Puch said. “A shame you do not work for me.” He pointed at Angel. “Ah, the Secret Service woman."

"He's real,” Angel said.

I was so tired. I'd tried everything. Still, my newest nemesis was standing there, and I had not even known he could fly. “And he can fly."

"What's he going to do with us?” Angel asked.

"I will tear your heart out and eat it. Yours too, Mr. O'Malley.” Ah Puch looked at Paul. “And I shall have a really fine horse to ride into Sacramento on.” Then he looked at me with those enormous eyes. “Should I make San Francisco the capital of California or leave it in Sacramento?"

"I think Sacramento is a little hot,” was my answer.

"Well, I like a warm climate,” Ah Puch declared. “Now, on to business. If you run, I'll fly and catch you."

I was out of ideas. I had a complete sense of resignation. What had happened to the major would now happen to me. “Fine. You win.” I bowed my head in submission. “I give up."

"Excellent."

"I'm not giving up,” Angel declared.

"Suit yourself,” I replied.

[Back to Table of Contents]

I had set events into motion in ways I could never have predicted, even in my wildest dreams. The Mayan God of the Underworld stood before me, about to devour my heart. Behind him, a tentacled monster from Mars was climbing out of the water. Apparently, Gatling gun bullets have little more effect on Martian monsters than titanium bullets have on Mayan gods.

This was the first time I was ever so pleased at seeing one of my failures, for I sensed opportunity. Ah Puch seemed unaware of what was behind him. And the Martian was a heck of a lot closer to him than to me.

Ah Puch let out a blood-curdling screech that I will never forget as orange burning liquid struck his back. The Martian monster had not, apparently, reached a kinder outlook on life since I'd last left him.

It seemed appropriate that Ah Puch was being torn apart, much as he had done to his victims. The burning orange stuff that the Martian used was not anything I wanted on
my
hide. I climbed up on Paul and extended my hand to help Angel. “Let's get out of here."

We'd gone about a hundred yards when I stopped Paul. I took my rifle and aimed it at the Martian, who was now about done with Owl Head. I fired a round, which seemed to get his attention. “It's me, the guy with Gatling gun!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “I'm over here!"

"Are you crazy?” Angel asked. “He'll come after us, now."

"I'm counting on it.” And he headed straight for us.

Tentacled Martian monsters can move pretty darn fast. I guess he'd been stunned or hurt when I first encountered him, because he was really moving this time. For once, I didn't have to motivate Paul.

Paul, with Angel and me on him, could barely stay ahead of the Martian. A man on foot would not have had a chance.

We raced on for about twenty minutes. The Martian stayed right on our heels. He wasn't fast enough to catch us, but we couldn't get far enough ahead for him to give up hope.