The Two Devils (26 page)

"While we were coming up here,” I explained, “it occurred to me that the Gray Army may have loved underground caverns and such places, but I can't say that was true for Ah Puch. That rig he traveled in was rather posh."

She headed for the wagon. “Well, Virginia City it is."

I didn't recall even mentioning Virginia City. I had not even thought of Virginia City. I climbed up on the wagon and we were underway. “Why Virginia City?” I finally asked.

"You wanted posh. If he's not camping in a mineshaft, where else?"

"He has an owl head."

"Then we won't mistake him for the wrong person,” Angel said.

Two hours later we rolled into Virginia City. The place had changed. There were more buildings and fewer canvas tents than I remembered.

Angel found a hotel on the edge of town that offered reasonable rates, at least it said so on the sign in the window. This time around, things seemed slower and calmer in town. There were few new arrivals like me wandering around looking for work.

I noticed a flyer for a performance at the Opera House that very evening. It was for some Italian thing I couldn't pronounce. I'd almost tossed it, when Angel took it from me and insisted we attend. I was not looking forward to it, but agreed to go. Why the government agent who had other villains to attend to suddenly wanted to waste time at an opera made little sense to me.

At seven o'clock I found myself waiting in line outside the Opera House with a few dozen others. The experience itself was not what I had imagined; it was worse. Listening to people who sounded like strangled cats carry on in a hot stuffy theater for the better part of three hours made me want to get on my hands and knees and repent for all my past deeds. Mabel once told me that opera is an acquired taste. That may be true, though I doubted I would ever acquire it.

The only consolation of the evening was that Angel had obtained the tickets somehow, and I had not been required to pay for them.

As we left the building, she wrapped her arm around my elbow. “Did you like that?"

I never had a chance to answer. Someone grabbed me from behind, slid a burlap sack over my head, then tossed me inside a wagon of some kind. As we lurched into motion, my hands and feet were quickly bound.

Then, someone kicked me in the stomach. Then someone kicked me again in my private parts. I thought that was uncalled for. I don't remember much after that. They may have hit me again.

My next consciousness was inside a mineshaft. An oil lamp provided a dim glow of the surroundings. I could see that there was an ore car near me. My right wrist was chained to a spike driven into the rock. I quickly discovered I lacked the strength to remove it. At least the bag was off my head. I'd been right about a mine, but simply the wrong one. There were hundreds of abandoned mines in Nevada.

I looked around and decided, even though it was rather dark, that I was alone. I wondered what had become of Angel. I don't know how long I sat there, but it seemed like a very long time.

Finally, I heard footsteps coming my way. I pretended to be asleep. That was a mistake. A kick to my stomach convinced me of that. I looked up at two bearded men with unkempt hair. “Wuh?"

"Get up."

I staggered to my feet.

"Let's go,” my captor invited.

"Uh?” I jangled the chain around, then looked expectantly for a key.

They looked at each other, both with a blank expression. Then, both men turned and headed back down the tunnel.

I seated myself in the dirt and waited for somebody to come up with a key. Eventually, my captors returned. This time, they had a key and unlocked me. I was dragged up and out of the mine. We were just outside Virginia City. In fact, I could easily see the lights from the mine entrance.

They tossed me into a wagon and we rode down into town.

I thought it was strange to kidnap somebody and then drive him down a public street. The saloons were all open and seemed rather active. People were wandering around everywhere, even though I guessed by the position of the moon that it was rather late.

We didn't go to the bawdy part of town where miners were parting with their pay. Instead, we went up a quiet side street and parked behind the Opera House. They dragged me inside.

Surprisingly, the lamps were on, at least some of them. The curtains were drawn on the stage and violin music was playing from behind them. I was tossed into a seat in the front row. My captors unlocked my chains and left me there to listen to the music. Whoever was playing it was skilled, but the tune itself lacked inspiration, at least to my ear. Then it stopped. I could hear one person clapping very slowly.

The curtain eased open. The person clapping was Angel, sitting by herself on stage on a posh leather chair. She was frowning, her clapping forced—as though she wasn't really happy with the performance. The stage was elegantly furnished. When it was nearly fully opened, I could see Ah Puch stood at the right end of the stage, holding a violin.

He looked at me and bent over in an exaggerated bow. “Bravo,” he said. “Bravo.” He sat in one of the other chairs. “What did you think?"

"You scare me, Ah Puch,” I said.

"How so?” he asked.

"You're a lot like Nick. He plays the violin as well,” I said.

He gently placed the instrument on a small table. “You've heard him play?"

"Who's Nick?” Angel asked.

"The devil,” Ah Puch and I both said at the same time.

"You've heard him play?” Ah Puch repeated.

"Yes,” I lied. I'd never actually heard him, but I had heard him boast of his musical abilities. That seemed close enough.

"He plays well?” Ah Puch asked.

"Yes, quite well,” I said. “Where's my horse?"

"My
horse is just fine,” the Mayan God of Death replied. “He's just fine. Tell me, how did you ever acquire such a fine horse on a barber's salary?"

Even though the truth would have certainly made him angry, and I saw that as a good thing, I decided not to share how I came to have a horse like Paul. “Just lucky, I guess."

"You're, no doubt, wondering how I escaped when the ship sank,” Ah Puch said. “When it was under water, I simply detached the owl part of me and shot through the water. There was a hole from one of the shells. Once on the surface, I simply flew along near the waves. No one noticed a small bird flying away. Then, I found a fishing boat, tore the head off one of the fisherman,” he pointed at himself with his thumbs, “and here I am."

"What of the other fishermen?” Angel asked.

"I killed them and ate their hearts. Well, more accurately, I ate their hearts and that killed them. I like hearts still fresh, still beating. They're better that way.” He sat in another chair. “So, here we are.” He reached into his pocket and produced my revolver. He held it up into the light. “Mr. O'Malley, do you have any more of those titanium bullets?"

"No, I do not,” I said, though I was beginning to wish I did.

"Pity."

"They don't work on you,” I pointed out. “I've already shot you with one."

"They work on monsters from Mars,” he said. “Some believe they work on angels. It was just a thought."

"Angels?” Angel asked. “You want to shoot an angel?"

His big eyes focused on Angel. “You once dressed like an angel, my dear. Ran around making people think you were crazy,” Ah Puch said.

"We're talking about real ones. Miles knows what I mean."

"You want to shoot Nick?” I asked.

He stood and twirled the revolver around for a few seconds. “Absolutely I do, absolutely."

"Well, maybe somebody else has some. But I'm not sure they really work,” I said.

"Who's this Nick?” Angel demanded.

"The devil,” we both replied at once.

"This is insane,” Angel yelled. “I'm talking to a man with an owl head who's obsessed with the devil. That's all you've talked about since I've been here. It's insane."

"He wants the devil's job,” I said.

"What?” Angel glared at me, than at him. “What?"

"Well, it's not that simple, really. But, Miles here is on the right track. I am the true lord of the underworld. It is my birthright,” Ah Puch proclaimed.

"If my ankle wasn't chained to this chair,” Angel said. I'd been wondering why she sat there so cooperatively. She hiked her skirt up a little to show her ankle was chained to the frame of the chair.

"Hike your skirt for him some other time, madam,” Ah Puch scolded. “We're here for my entertainment, not yours."

She glared at him, but said nothing else. That gave me an idea. I stood and declared “You have offended my lady's honor, Ah Puch."

He crossed his arms and looked at me. “What of it?"

I pointed at him, lacking any gloves to slap him with, I said, “I demand satisfaction."

"You demand?” He glared at me with those big owl eyes, then looked at Angel, then at me again. “This could be fun. Very well, I accept.” He jumped up and down a few times.

"Shall we shoot it out here, on the stage?” I asked.

"Yes, yes indeed. That will be splendid.” Ah Puch opened a trunk. “Since I am the one who has been challenged, it is my right to select the weapons."

I nodded in agreement. “What do you have?"

He held up two muzzle loading pistols. “Will these be satisfactory?” Ah Puch asked.

"I suppose. It's just.” I stopped talking and stood there.

"You want,” he held my revolver up, “this."

"Well, yes,” I admitted.

"It's mine now, Mr. O'Malley. Get used to it.” He placed it back into the trunk and locked it. “I'll load one, then you can load the other.” He poured powder from a small jar, then dropped a lead bullet and packed it with a small dowel. “Now for you.” He gestured at the powder and another bullet on top the trunk. “I shall have this pointed at Miss Jones’ head, should this prove to be some sort of trick."

"Who's Miss Jones?” I stupidly asked.

"I am,” Angel snapped.

Ah Puch chirped. “You never even knew her last name? Mr. O'Malley, you are an incredible idiot."

I felt like he was right, but I did have a plan in mind. It was my only hope. I prepared the pistol as best I could for someone who'd never even seen a muzzle-loader before. It seemed ready. I held it tightly against my chest much as Jonathon T. Livingston had once done in another duel. “I'm ready."

He jumped up and down. “Excellent. Miss Jones can count us off,” Ah Puch decided.

"I'll have nothing of this barbarity.” Angel looked off at the wall.

"Please count us off,” I pleaded. “Please."

She let out a sigh. “Very well.” She waited for us to get into position. “One, two..."

I guess she counted off more numbers, though I cannot be certain. On one, I took off running as fast as I could. I ran out a side exit and did not stop until I reached a saloon one block down the street.

There was a deputy town marshal standing in front of the saloon. “Some woman's in the Opera House yelling her off head off about breaking her leg!"

"Isn't that what they say, them theater people?” the lawman asked.

"There's no performance tonight. I think she's hurt,” I insisted.

"Well, guess I better have a look.” He made some sort of gesture to another deputy farther down the street, then both of them started running for the Opera House.

I went inside, insisted on a table, and ordered two beers. I sat there in silence, drinking one beer and ignoring the other. People were whispering about me.

After a half hour, Angel arrived and sat across from me.

"Is this for me?” she asked about the beer.

I nodded.

"Broken leg?"

"They would not have responded so quickly to your aid if I'd told them you were prisoner of a man with an owl head,” I said.

"Just run away? Some plan."

"Well, those muzzle loader pistols are really short range. I figured I had a pretty good chance if I got off the stage."

Angel took a meager sip of the beer, then placed the mug back on the table. “Just leave me there with him?"

"When I saw your ankle, I realized it was the same sort of lock they'd used on me. Those guys who work for him would probably have gone off with the key. Ah Puch only had a few minutes to react, so I figured he would hightail it.” I finished my beer. “Is that what he did?"

"Yep.” She looked at the beer, but did not have any more. “He looked at me, called for those two helpers. They'd gone off somewhere. He heard the deputies coming. He ran off."

"Wonder where he is now?"

"There are cavalry units covering the roads out of town. Sharpshooters have orders to shoot any owl they see.” She looked at that beer, but again backed off. “The ranchers will love me. They hate owls. They think they carry off steers in the middle of the night."

"That's the darnedest thing."

"Well, that's the way they think. I think they'll have mice in their lunch pails without owls and such, but I have no choice,” she said. “I've got to try everything."

"How long have there been troops surrounding the town?"

"Since we got here."

She stood. “Walk me to Western Union. It's not a safe for a lady by herself this late."

Somehow, I figured the accosters might be the ones needing protection. “Very well."

She grabbed a hold of my elbow. “Owl Head is right about one thing."

I waited for her to embellish me. When she did not, I asked, “What's that?"

"You are an incredible idiot.” She filled out the telegraph slip at Western Union, making no attempt to shield the message addressed to Judge Hastings in San Francisco.
Saw an owl in Virginia City. It flew away. Love, Angel.

Angel decided she would remain there and wait for a reply. I went back to the hotel. I looked at my bruises in the mirror above the dresser, then laid down on the bed. If I stayed on my right side, I figured they wouldn't hurt too bad. I drifted off to sleep.

I slept pretty good, but something woke me. I noticed the sun was just coming up. At first, I was not sure what had woken me up. Then, I heard something that sounded like a large animal banging into the wall of the hotel. I opened up the shutters to try and figure what was the matter. A large black horse was rubbing against the outside wall.