Authors: Eric Barkett
“Jed?” he asked.
“Obadiah, the day you came to town did all of the passengers go with you?” He asked.
“No. Some didn’t want to make the journey since it was getting late.”
Just like that he pulled the fish out of the murky waters of his mind. “I’m a damn fool,” Jed muttered, his eyes widening.
“Get your horse,” the gunslinger yelled, running to the stable. “Sheriff get the bank guards!”
Obadiah watched him a moment completely dumbfounded. Sheriff Carter scratched his nose. “Where is he off to?”
The apprentice did not answer, instead he ran off after the gunslinger. When he whirled into the stable attached to the boarding house, Jed was already readying Boy. Obadiah went to Indomitable, throwing on a blanket.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Jed quickly filled him in. “The bloody station, Obadiah. That is where they get their food from. Sometimes people other times livestock, like two cows that a butcher should have received. They control the rail station by the town.”
Boy was saddled first. Obadiah could not compete with the gunslingers frantic pace. A large boom of thunder roared into the air. Jed galloped out of the stable. Obadiah threw the bridle on his horse and swung up. Giving Indomitable the back of his heels, he followed Jed. They passed by a shouting Sheriff Carter. They ignored him riding into the night.
The rain came down harder all at once. Someone pouring buckets of water over the two men. As eager as Jed was to get there his galloping was slowed to a walk. In moments the land was turning into a muddy swamp. The horses were finding it harder to move through the increasing sludge at their feet.
Jed had never seen such raging torrents of rain. Pearls of thunder crashed around them. The noise of which deafened everything except the roaring of the rain. The brim of his hat dripped low under the weight of a river caused by the torrential downpour. Nothing could be seen in the rain. Not the time of day, if it was still day, nor the land twenty feet in front nor even lightning striking in their vicinity. An increasingly close vicinity based on the sound of thunder. A portion of the dark would flare extending their line of sight briefly and then extinguish. Jed relied on an innate sense of direction to take them to the station house.
“I still don’t get why we’re heading this way.” Obadiah shouted over the rain and in the process swallowed a gallon.
Jed waited after the sound of thunder died away to answer. “Hudson is the werewolf we are looking for. He’s the leader.” Jed thought about the diminutive the station master and the short werewolf he kept seeing. “The station is the perfect place to hide. It’s away from town and he keeps track on everyone who comes in.”
If they could get there in time before sunset then the whole pack could be eliminated. Potentially saving a world of trouble. But they were going too slowly. Jed dismounted and gave the reins to Obadiah. “I’m going on ahead. Catch up when you can.” He yelled.
On foot he pressed ahead. Quickly he understood what the horses were going through. Mud, like grasping hands, tugged at his boots unwilling to relinquish their prize. Jed fought it and he gained momentum. Glancing back he could not see his apprentice and the horses. As arduous as climbing a mountain, the cabin finally came into sight by the brief flash of lightning. Relieved he crept up to the building.
Soaked with rain the windows could not be seen through. Wiping away the rain was useless, as the second after a deluge of water drenched it again. Jed moved to the front, his first step on the wooden platform made his knee fly to his waist. It felt good to walk freely. Without the restricting mud he easily slunk to the door. He sat against it, calming his heartbeat. He was not nervous, but the exertion of walking had drained him of energy. An exhausting fatigue clutched his bones, one that he had felt before and he doubted the walk was solely responsible.
His hands drew both guns. Inhaling a deep breath he kicked down the door. It crashed to the floor inside, the only noise to be heard above the flooding rain. In the gloom he could see the whites of many eyes fall on him.
“Don’t move,” Jed warned. Adjusting to the darkness was not hard. A dim lantern was burning to cast light on the men.
It was lighted nearby the station master, a dull flame that did not seem to flicker. The gunslinger could clearly see Hudson and the burning anger bristling underneath. The other men inside were all weaponless and at the mercy of the gunslinger. A mercy he did not feel like bestowing. They had taken a step back at Jed’s entrance. However, he did not fire merely cocking the hammers back. Trying to take them out now would be foolhardy. Each one would take several bullets to die and they could swarm him. He was content to wait for Obadiah.
Hudson broke the silence from behind the counter. “How did you find us?” he growled. Jed noticed the growl. A common noise he found all human werewolves made.
“I just thought about it.” Jed replied evenly, his voice belied the pounding of his heart.
“You’ll be sorry for it and for killing my brothers.” Hudson said. The Adam’s apple that bobbled nervously when he spoke was gone. A fierce determination gripped his voice. “I will eat your entrails and suck the marrow from your bones as you lie bleeding on the ground. Your skull will be used as goblet from which I drink your blood.
A slight movement brought Jed’s attention to the left of the room away from Hudson. “Don’t move,” he warned again to a burly red haired.
Hudson moved, grabbing the lantern throwing it. Jed pressed against the door and it sailed by him. One of the men took the opportunity to rush him. Barring his teeth, he charged forward. Twisting his wrist Jed fired several shots to the chest, knocking the man to the floor. They scurried about moving in a dozen different directions. The guns became part of Jed’s hands. He touched the werewolves with hands of iron and fingers of lead. Sprouts of blood sprayed at each hit. Hudson leapt out the window knowing he was outmatched.
The rest took his lead. Crashing through the glass and landing into the storm outside to make their escape. Obadiah, though, had arrived at the back. Dropping the reins to the two horses he led, he drew both guns. The second man out the window was blasted in midair. One of the men jumped on Obadiah from the side. They landed in the mud. The Colt was knocked from Obadiah’s hand. The attacker slipped in the mud crawling to reach it. A booted foot smacked Obadiah in the face. Grabbing his face, the red haired youth fired several more shots with his Kruger. The shots lanced into his back and he died with his hand on the Colt.
Someone turned Obadiah over and seized his throat. A flash of lightning showed a wild eyed man smiling in triumph. A bullet struck him in the back of the shoulder. Jed had shot from the window. Releasing his grip on Obadiah the man raced off into the night. The fight was finished at the moment.
Inside the station Jed let the empty casings of his Colt plummet the floor. Many had suffered gunshot wounds as they ran but one body lay on the floor. His blood soaking the wood which was safe from the rain. However, the man was not dead. A muscle twitched and his chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. It was the man who had charged and the five bullets marked his inevitable death. It would be slow though. Even now his body tried to heal the damage. The blood loss was slackening as one of the wounds had sealed. Another one was closing but he had too many wounds.
The man lay there, eyes closed. A drop of water fell on his cheek. Opening his eyes he saw Jed standing above him. He opened his mouth to speak. Jed fired first.
The gunslinger reloaded his other gun, moving to the window. Obadiah was kneeling on the ground poking the man he had shot.
“Just shoot him Obadiah,” Jed yelled. Clearing out the broken glass, he climbed over the edge. One final shot cracked in the night.
Obadiah stood up, shivering slightly whether from cold or the recent action Jed was not sure. Obadiah was covered in mud and tried brushing it off. Impossibly a fierce wind began and fueled the rain.
Patting his apprentice on the shoulder, Jed yelled past the wind, “We have to find the others. Come on.”
Jed grabbed the reins of Boy and led him. The chestnut brayed constantly, evidently not pleased at being out in this weather. Making sure to keep in sight, they spread out. Of course the men could be have run anywhere. Then a sharp howl broke over the howling wind. The proximity was close, so that Jed could determine its direction even over the rain.
Rushing forward he entered the area he had thought it had come from. Nothing. To the left a squishing sound came. A stalking werewolf tripped on the slick mud. Crack. Crack. The two shots struck hard. It scrambled away, not exposing itself for a third. Its retreating howl was not the only roaring in the storm.
Obadiah hurried as best as he could to Jed with the horses. Wearily, the gunslinger decided to fall back letting Obadiah take the lead. That meant spending a long walk looking backwards. Lightning would flare and one of them would take a shot at a dark silhouette. No shots ever hit as far as they could tell.
At last they reached the saloon. Almost running into it before Jed realized the dark form was not the night. No one had spotted them. Inside was dry. Their poor horses were left outside a little longer. No gunmen were on watch. If any were on the rooftop they needed to be warned. Motioning Obadiah to check the roof Jed guarded the door.
Swallowing Obadiah walked back into the rain. There was no ladder against the wall and Jed was forced to give him a boost to the curved awning above the porch. It had become a waterfall with rain collecting like a river. Careful not to slip he grabbed the frame to the roof. Heaving his head over, Obadiah stopped.
The back of a werewolf was to him. An outstretched hand lay limp on the ground. No blood pooled around, it had all been washed away. The guard had been killed without a sound. Lightning flashed, only it was not a bolt of electricity. Fangs gleamed and a dark claw slashed. The surprise shocked him and Obadiah fell back. It saved his life.
A long claw cut the skin from his neck to his cheek. A superfluous wound shallow as to not require worry. It did cause him to slip from his position and he tumbled down the waterfall. The wooden porch ended at the edge of the awning so Obadiah barely missed its firm surface. The mud did not jar him as much as the sudden attack. In a yelp he fired, hitting air.
A werewolf jumped to the ground landing on its feet. It turned and ran. Oblivious to the other one Jed chased the fleeing beast, shooting as he ran. The werewolf jumped down from the roof. Obadiah turned so it did not crush him. Moving on instinct he fired. The shots were shrugged off.
Talon hands took hold of his wrists diverting the blasting guns to the sky. Snarling it snapped down. Teeth pierced Obadiah’s shoulder. The beast savored the iron feel in its mouth. The blood began renewing its strength. Its victim screamed in pain before rainwater choked him.
But the boy had grit. His right hand holding the Colt twisted as far as it could in the werewolf’s grip. Grimacing in huffs and puffs he fired. The shot struck the forearm holding his left arm. The sudden impact loosened the beasts grip. Obadiah swung the big iron to its ears. It never heard the blast. The beast slumped to the side, its jaws slackening.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Click.
Out of shots he pummeled the dead monster’s head. Bringing the heavy pommel down in violent outbursts. At the end of his rage, Obadiah laid down. He half sobbed from the pain and terror, tears mixing with the rain. But Jed had been right in his first assessment of the young man. Obadiah had grit. Snarling he got on one knee and stood. He followed the sounds of gunshots.
Jed kept after the werewolf making sure to keep it in sight but now holding his shots. Running in the rain, slipping in mud, and firing after a moving target tended to ruin ones aim. Little doubt remained in his mind that he was chasing Hudson. Then he lost the quarry. Suddenly vanished, Jed stood there in the street indecisive.
A door shattered in the night. Suddenly two werewolves approached, water running down their snouts. Jed cursed as they spread out, cutting off chance of escape. A shot staggered one. Riders from down the street where the bank lay, came struggling past the mud. However, they were letting loose an almighty amount of gunfire. The werewolves turned and charged the new threat, allowing Jed opportunity to rush after Hudson.
Jed ran to a door, seeing the broken frame. Scampering feet tramped on the floor above him. A cry from upstairs. It was swiftly ended. Taking his time to move stealthily Jed crept up the stairs. He could see an open door and hear crunching bones. At the top he poked his head around the corner. Hudson was on a bed munching hurriedly on a hapless victim.
Then its ear twitched and it swung around to see Jed. The gunslinger entered the room firing. Hudson dodged the shots, ducking under the bed. Then it sprinted from the bed and jumped. Incredulous Jed watched as it leapt through the window. The glass shattered and when it hit the wall of the neighboring house it broke through, landing inside. Jed fired until it went further inside.
Not keen on making the same jump Jed ran downstairs. His foot touched the bottom of the stairs when another werewolf came in. The yellow eyes of the beast tightened. He could hear the steamy breath exhale. Quickly it quaked, its body shaking off the excess water soaking its fur. The gunslinger flew to the side releasing a hail of bullets.