Read Undead at Sundown Online

Authors: R.J McCabe

Undead at Sundown (11 page)

BOOK: Undead at Sundown
2.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Gina nodded.‘Well, I got a business to prepare for another day, so I better get back otherwise they will be askin' why I was here for so long.’ A mischievous smile appeared on her face.

   
 
‘I don't usually care too much about what people think as people always want to think something about someone or other but make sure you tell them exactly why you came here if you're leavin' now as you haven't been here but a few minutes, so I can't have anyone thinkin' it was anythin' else as my reputation would definitely suffer.’

Gina laughed. ‘It’s a little early to be makin’ jokes like that isn't it Sheriff?’

Bill sat back in his chair. ‘Maybe you're right, I don’t know what came over me, though I kinda think you started it.’

     ‘I'll be the one to finish it then. I'll be seein' you Bill. Have yourself a good day.’ Gina said beginning to walk away but looked over her shoulder as she went.

   
 
‘I hope so and next time don't forget the cake.’ Bill said smiling after her.

     He watched Gina go, captivated by the way she walked, she sure had a great way about her, Bill thought and found himself hoping he'd get to spend a lot more time with her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

13

 

 

 

 

Ken was sat at his desk, cleaning a pistol when Bill walked into the sheriffs office.

   
 
‘Sheriff,’ The deputy said looking up briefly.

   
 
‘Damn Ken, what time do you get here in a mornin'?’

     ‘Oh I’ve been here for a little while. I cant rightly recall what time I got in but don't feel bad as me and Gina are just early risers is all. I've always been that way and I guess she got it from me.’

     ‘Well, I can testify to that as she just paid me a visit.’ Bill replied taking a seat at his desk.

     Ken looked up again, this time placing his pistol on the desk in front of him. ‘Oh she did huh? Let me guess, invite to dinner?’

Bill smiled
.
‘No, not quite, she just came to tell me somethin' that she heard from one of her girls this mornin'.’

     ‘She hears a lot of things in that place of hers, you can’t pay most of it too much attention mind Sheriff. They get all manner of bullshit and fabrications in that place.’

   
 
Bill found himself surprised at Ken using the word  “fabrications”. He smiled at the deputy. ‘Yeah I know but like I told Gina, its always worth knowin' what’s bein' said when you're the sheriff.’

Ken nodded. ‘I guess so. So what she say?’

   
 
Bill recited to Ken what Gina had told him earlier. Ken,s face took on a serious look as Bill told him what the drunken cowboy had said. The deputy listened intently taking it all in. When Bill had finished, Ken took a deep breath and looked to be mulling it over before he spoke.

   
 
‘So it could be the man heard somethin' over by the Blackwater railway camp, as that’s the only place around eight miles from here where you are gonna find a group of people big enough to make any kind of noise.’

     ‘It could be that he heard somethin' out there. The way I see it, unless he was out of his mind he didn’t have anythin' to gain by tellin' the girl that. You think its worth checkin’ the place out?’ Bill asked.

   
 
‘Sure thing Sheriff, I can’t see why not. There ain’t too much else goin' on around here as far as I know. Say, you spoke with this man? The one who told Lizzie.’

Bill shook his head slightly. ‘No, Gina said he was long gone this mornin', seems he was just passin’ through.’

     ‘Thats a pity,’ said Ken.

     Bill could almost hear Ken’s brain ticking over in the quiet office.

   
 
‘Well, I tell you what Sheriff Bill. This sounds quite interestin' and I sure don’t say that very often. I'll ride out there with you just as soon as you are ready, you just say the word.’

Bill slapped his hands on his thighs before getting on his feet
.
‘Ok, in that case I’m as ready as I'll ever be so lets do it Deputy.’

Ken smiled and the men readied themselves before heading out towards the stables.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

14

 

 

 

The two men rode along the rough, dry ground with the July sun beating down. They passed a water canteen between them and Ken told Bill stories from the history of Sundown. Things that he himself had seen and stories that had been passed down to him by his parents and the parents before them. Bill enjoyed the tales and he couldn't deny, Ken sure had a great way of telling them.

    Ken was part way through a story about a crazed alcoholic gunslinger called Ginger Maldoon, who had come by the town and started shooting at everyone he saw. The story ended with Maldoon so drunk, that out of the thirty or so shots he let off that day, only one managed to hit anyone, which was a raggedy old bastard named Totts Wilson.

    The sheriff at the time had ended the rampage by using his rifle to shoot Maldoon in the head and people had said it was as if Ginger had a stick of dynamite in his skull, because everything from the neck up had exploded when the sheriff pulled that trigger.

     Ken never got the time to finish the story because he spotted the place they were looking for in the distance.

   
 
‘There it is Sheriff. My eyes ain’t what they used to be but I can make it out, can you see it?’

   
 
Bill squinted but the camp was too far away. ‘Not too well, we need to get a little closer to see whats goin' on, or indeed what has gone on.’

     ‘Okay Bill, but before we get down there, I think maybe I should just fill you in on a couple of things, if thats okay with you?’

     ‘Will it stop me from gettin' my head blown off?’ asked Bill.

   
 
‘It just might, though I wouldn't make that kind of guarantee.’ Ken replied with cheeky grin.

   
 
‘Well, Deputy. If it benefits my health then I'm all ears.’ Bill said as he steadied his horse to listen.

   
 
‘Okay then. That there is a Blackwater place, and that means your gonna find at least one of three things there. First thing you might find is Jack Blackwater. Now the chance of that happenin' is pretty slim as he’s usually up in Huntersville but that don’t mean it’s impossible. If he does turn out to be in that camp then just play it cool, be polite and I reckon he just might pay you the same kind of respect. If Jack is there then the second thing we will likely find are his protectors. The men who ride with him and keep the him safe. If they ask why we are here then we can let em know that we are just concerned bout the safety of everyone, so we came over to check. These men work for Blackwater and he will expect them to act as he would, representing him an all, so they should be pretty calm. 

     Now, the third thing you might encounter here is pretty likely, goin' by what I been hearin' and that’s Joel Blackwater, Jack’s son. I heard he's in charge of things but he ain’t been into town given that he hates the place. Joel ain’t like his father, he's unpredictable and I've heard many tales about this fella and they ain’t good. He has his father to back him up but aside from that I think this kid just has balls the size of boulders and if you ask me, he ain’t playin' with a full deck.’

     ‘So he’s the one I have to watch then?’ asked Bill.

   
 
‘I should say he is. A lot of men have lost their lives by not watchin' him, so if he's here just be on your guard and don't get him all wound up Bill, for both ours sakes.’

   
 
Bill sat up straight on his horse and cleared his throat. ‘You can count on me to be friendly and amicable Ken as nothin' good comes from chargin' into a place and actin' like an asshole.’

     ‘I couldn't agree more Sheriff. So, shall we go down there and see what all the fuss is about?’

     ‘Seems you’re the one doin' all the fussin', said Bill smiling. ‘But still, I reckon that sound’s like a plan.’

Ken flicked the reigns of his horse and set off towards the camp with Bill right behind.

     They were around fifty feet away when they both began to feel something was wrong. From where the men were, they could see some of the tents seemed to of collapsed and the whole feel of the camp was dishevelled and just plain wrong. Given that this was the site of a railway track being laid, things should have been bustling with bodies and people but there wasn't a single person was in sight.

   
 
‘Maybe that passer through heard somethin' after all Sheriff,’ said Ken surveying the camp.

   
 
‘Maybe he did,’ The Sheriff replied and took one of the pistols from it’s holster.

     The two men took their horses down to a trot as they continued towards whatever was waiting for them.

     As they reached the edge of the camp it became clear that something pretty serious had occurred there. Around half of the sixty or so tents were collapsed and there were clothes and peoples belongings scattered all over the floor. As the men slowly rode further into camp they both began to notice something else. There seemed to be red stains all over the tents, the belongings and even on the ground.

   
 
‘What in the name of holy fuck happened here Bill? Looks like a goddam massacre’ said Ken, shaking his head.

   
 
‘I can't even take a guess,’ Bill said, surveying the splashes of red on the tents. ‘But the real question is, where the hell is everyone? Where are the horses? Look how many tents there are. I think there are sixty or so men meant to be on this site, and yet there ain’t a single horse or person in sight and what the hell is all that red shit over everythin'!’ Bill took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Somethin' bad went down here, somethin' real bad, I feel it in my bones.’

     ‘Apaches maybe,’ Ken said, not looking at Bill but still observing the carnage around him.

   
 
‘Could be, but why would they come here?’ asked Bill.

   
 
‘I heard the Apaches have not been too happy about Blackwater layin' tracks on land that they consider to be theirs. I heard they’ve been causin' a bit of unrest over here. Watchin' the camp, tryin' to intimidate and stuff, but nothin' serious.’

     ‘So then they come and kill everyone? Then take all of the bodies? I don't buy it,’ said Bill, trying to get his head around it all.

   
 
‘Well, I guess you're right there. No Apaches I ever heard of took the bodies of the folks they killed, the scalps sure but not the bodies. The Iron Dog is old school too, I think if this had been his doin' then the bodies would be lyin' all about this place with their skulls exposed.’

     ‘The Iron Dog huh? He leads the Apaches?’ asked Bill.

   
 
‘Yeah, some say he's invincible, cant be killed.’ Ken said looking at Bill.

   
 
‘You believe that?’ Bill asked and met Kens gaze.

   
 
‘Well, I should think that it sounds like a load of old horse dick but I don't claim to know everythin' that goes on in this world. I do know that many men have tried to put a bullet in him in the past, but they ain’t here to tell the tale…and he is.’

     ‘How do you think he would react if we rode on over there, asked him a few questions?’ Bill asked.

   
 
‘I know he ain’t no fan of the white man and if he is responsible for this then I don't think he is gonna think twice about draggin' us off our horses and puttin' us in the ground.’

     ‘Maybe we should round up some men and head over there,’ said Bill.

Ken let out a short laugh. ‘That sounds like a great idea Sheriff but where the fuck you plannin' on roundin' up the men?’

     ‘Surely there are men in town that would ride out with us?’

     ‘Damn Bill, you tickle me. You think we can get men to ride out with us to go to an Apache camp and talk to the Iron Dog and his band of savages? I gotta say I don't like your chances of gettin' that done but I reckon if you ask them to do that then you are just gonna get a whole bunch of ‘kiss my asses’ and ‘are you fuckin crazies’

BOOK: Undead at Sundown
2.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Day of War by Cliff Graham
Tides of Light by Gregory Benford
Mistress of the Solstice by Anna Kashina
Riding the Rap by Elmore Leonard
Wild legacy by Conn, Phoebe, Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC
Wild Orchid by Cameron Dokey
The Matarese Countdown by Robert Ludlum
Pantheon 00 - Age of Godpunk by James Lovegrove