Undead at Sundown (25 page)

30

Jack entered the tent to see Chief Eskadi on his Knees. His back was to Jack and he was muttering something and he didn't seem to notice that Blackwater had entered his home. Jack crept slowly up behind the chief, taking a knife from his belt as he did so. The chief didn’t flinch when Jack grabbed a handful of his long white hair and put the blade against his throat.

   
 
‘This is all your fault you selfish son of a whore. Now you had better tell me where the knife is that killed your boy.’

   
 
The chief did not reply, he was still and silent.

   
 
‘I don’t think you realise the gravity of the situation you are in here you old bastard. Now unless you want your head removed why don’t you tell me w…’

Jack stopped talking as something caught his eye. To his left, in the far corner of the tent there was a stand which had been carved from wood and painted in red. On top of that stand lay a knife, Joel’s knife and Jack recognised the Bowie as it was him that had given it to Joel.

   
 
‘Looks like I don’t need you after all shit dog.’ Jack said and started to laugh. He laughed until something heavy and blunt struck him across the back of the head causing his knees to give way and his black stetson to topple of his head onto the ground.

     He hit the floor with a ringing in his ears and saw Eskadi reach for Jack’s knife and get to his feet. Jack’s head was spinning and he turned onto his belly and tired to crawl away from the chief but in seconds he felt Eskadi’s weight drop onto him.

   
 
‘You shouldn’t come here white man and now I will kill you just as I killed your son.’   Eskadi said whilst pulling back Jack’s hair to expose the throat area. Jack let out a laugh, which was not easy due to the tightness of his throat.

   
 
‘I knew you could speak English you dirty son of a bitch.’

   
 
At that Jack waited for the knife to be drawn across his throat but instead, felt the knife against his cheek, then raised an inch or so to his eyeball.

     In one movement the knife slipped into the socket of his eye and with a wet plop sound Jack lost all sight in his right eye as it was popped from his head.

     It hung on his cheek, still attached but was now useless and Jack felt a pain booming inside his head. The chief then cut the tendon that his eye was attached to and Eskadi began to laugh. Jack could feel shock overtaking his body and felt himself losing consciousness. He was about to pass out when he realised how close he was to the stand which held the Bowie knife and he realised if he could just get free for a second or two he would be able to get the knife and it would do something, at least, to even up the odds.

    Jack felt his hair being pulled again and felt the tip of the knife on his other cheek, his blood ran cold in the knowledge that if his other eye was popped from its socket he would be completely blind and that, for him at least , was would be worse than death itself.

     Jack made a quick movement with his shoulder and managed to get his hand up and to grip the hand of Eskadi, the chief seemed to laughed just a little, maybe finding some kind of sport in Jack’s efforts.

     Rather than try and take the knife from the chief, Jack pulled Eskadi’s hand towards his mouth and sunk his teeth around the base of two of the fingers. Eskadi let out a howl of pain and let go of Jacks hair, instead using the free hand to punch Jack repeatedly in the back of the skull. Jack had always had a hard head and in the heat of the moment the blows did little to detract him from what he was doing. With a crunch he bit right through the two fingers, severing them as the chiefs hand pulled away.

     Eskadi was muttering and Jack turned his body with all of his force. It was enough to throw Eskadi sideways and Jack managed to scramble from underneath him. He then went to the knife stand and removed the Bowie.

    Jack turned and faced not only Eskadi but also another Apache, surely the man who had cracked him on the back of the head moments earlier.

     That Apache was Zata and he stood looking at Jack, whilst holding a large piece of wood. The chief held out one dripping hand and in the other he was now holding Jacks knife. Eskadi crouched and then waved a little as if beckoning Jack to battle. Jack was a little disorientated given that he was now only seeing out of one eye but his adrenaline was through the roof and he took a similar stance to that of the chief. He thought it was going to be a fair fight until Zata ran towards him swinging the piece of wood wildly. Jack managed to avoid the first swing but the second thudded against the side of his face causing him to fall into the side of the tent. He turned and saw both men watching him and slowly closing in for the kill. Zata had a grin on his face that told Jack he was going to take delight in clubbing his skull to bits with that piece of wood.

     Then Jack, even though his vision was blurred, noticed another figure in the tent. The figure drew closer behind the two Apache men and Jack realised it was Tatsu.

     The tip of a Samurai sword burst through the front of Zata’s shirt and ripped through his stomach. Zata took a deep breath and looked down at the huge blade. His mouth was open in shock and his eyes went back towards Jack.

   
 
‘Oops’ was all Jack said and smiled a bloody smile at the interpreter. Another movement from the Samurai and the sword travelled from Zata’s stomach right up to his throat, releasing a spray of blood. The Apache fell forward, sliding off the sword and landed face down.

     Tatsu then made to swing the blade at Eskadi but Jack held up a hand and called out.

   
 
‘No, not him, that bastard is mine.’

Jack realised he was in a bad way but he also knew he was a good fifteen years younger than the chief and Eskadi had also lost two fingers. He realised he wasn’t worried about dying but if he was going to go, he was going to take the old Apache with him.

      Jack charged at Eskadi and in turn, the chief moved forward letting out a tribal scream as he did so. The two men met each other and the chief thrust his knife towards Jack’s ribs but Jack had been ready for that move and blocked the older mans forearm with his own before using the same hand to punch the chief in the face.

     Pain shot through Jacks hand as Eskadi stumbled back and Jack was surprised at how hard the man’s face was. It felt like hitting stone. Jack then thrust his own blade forward towards Eskadi’s stomach but it fell roughly an inch short. Eskadi swung his knife, just enough to put Jack on the offensive and then the chief raised the knife above his head intending to bring the dagger down. Jack automatically raised his forearm to block the attack and on the first strike the blade sank into the meat of Jack’s arm. Jack grimaced and felt the blade being pulled out as Eskadi looked to bring it down again. Jack moved backwards and Eskadi struck again, using his bloody forearm to shield himself, successfully this time but then it was coming down again.

     Jack was back peddling and trying to think of his next move when an idea popped into his head, a simple idea but nevertheless Jack decided to roll with it. He lifted one black leather boot and kicked Eskadi between the legs. He felt the squish of a good connection and saw Eskadi’s eyes rolled upwards for a second before he let out a low groaning noise. His hands went to his crotch and Jack took full advantage. He swung his knife in an arc and it sank deep into the side of Eskadi’s neck. Jack pulled the blade free and a jet of blood followed from the wound. The jet quickly slowed to a series of little squirts. The chiefs hand went from his balls to his neck wound, to try and stem the flow of blood that was leaking out.

     Jack then thrust the blade three times into Eskadi’s stomach before stabbing him in the side of the face and then finally slammed the blade into the chief’s temple. It stuck out of the side of his head and the chief’s eyes seemed to glaze over. He sank to his knees and then in that very position, he died.

     Jack looked at Eskadi. ‘Iron Dog my ass’ he said before placing a boot on Eskadi’s chest and pushed him sidewards onto the ground. Jack then looked at Tatsu. ‘I owe you one Samurai.’ And with that an exhausted Jack Blackwater slumped to the floor.

31

Moments earlier Bill watched as the two undead things clashed. There didn’t seem to be any advantage in the strength even though the Apache was larger. They threw each other around and bit at each others faces and necks, the strength of the other seeming to sap the energy from his opponent.

     Joel, or the thing that used to be Joel, charged the Apache, carrying him towards Bill and the bodies of the two mutants hit the Sheriff with full force. Bill flew through the air yet again before skidding across the ground. He got to his feet and could hear the ongoing battle between the two even though he could not longer see anything.

    He turned to see an oncoming Apache, teeth bared and eyes white. It thudded into him and made to bite Bill who had to use all of his force to hold the thing off. The weight of it forced the Sheriff backwards and then Bill toppled and was lying on the floor with the things teeth gnashing just inches from his face and getting slowly closer with every bite.

     For a brief moment and for the first time in his life Bill thought of just letting go. He felt so tired but then a picture of Gina appeared in his mind and Bill remembered how the thought of a life with her made his stomach tingle. He would try to live if only for Gina.

     Bill tried with all of his might to hold the thing off him and thought about going for his gun. He realised that he would have to hold the creature off while he did that and didn't think he had enough strength in that arm given it had already been wounded. Then something caught his eye to his left.

     A sharp piece of wood which had been snapped when the tent had partially collapsed was lying on the floor. Bill readied himself and made a grab for it. The thing on top bit again and Bill felt the teeth slide together on the tip of his still swollen nose. He managed to grab the piece of wood and somehow bought it around and down onto the back of the things head. The bone seemed to crack open like a thick egg shell and Bill continued to push the wood into the creatures head until he felt it touch something hard, which he figured was the front of its skull.

     The creature seemed to go limp and then shook before exploding over Bill, covering him in red mush. He made sure to keep his mouth shut and was thankful when none of the red stuff went up his nose. He wasn't sure whether it would have made him turn into one of those things but he didn’t want to risk it.

    Bill got back to his feet and then noticed a terrible smell. He thought, at first, that it was the red gore which covered the front of him from head to foot but then Bill to follow his nose and realised it was coming from the next tent. He decided he had to see what it was and so walked around to find out.

    Once inside the next tent it became clear what was causing the smell. The canvas walls were covered in scalps. The hair and skin were crammed together so tight that no sign of the tent wall was even visible. Bill wasn't sure how many there were but it had to be hundreds, if not thousands. Then a scream filled the tent as an Apache burst through the entrance. Bill saw that the eyes of the man were dark brown and not the pure white of the undead. The man dived at Bill and the sheriff rolled backwards and then used his foot to kick the man over his head. The Apache fell into the side of the tent and then scrambled to his feet.

    For a brief moment Bill found that even in such dire circumstances, he wanted to burst out laughing. The Apache was now standing ready to attack but failed to notice the scalp that had dropped onto his head which was light brown in colour and sitting at such an odd angle the look was nothing if not comical. Bill smiled briefly before quickly snatching his gun from his belt and shooting the man twice in the chest. The Apache was killed by the first shot.

     Bill walked outside covered head to toe in blood and guts. He was tired and staggered through the camp towards the chiefs tent. He looked up to see Tatsu coming out of there. But no Jack! Tatsu was looking around seemingly surveying the area when something rushed towards him with such speed it seemed to leave a blur behind it.

     Then next time Bill looked at Tatsu the Samurai warrior was standing with his throat torn out before falling and dying right there on the ground. The Chiefs son raised the throat above his head and roared before opening his mouth and swallowing the thing whole. The Apache seemed to grow a little right before Bills eyes. It thickened and seemed to gain at least an inch or two in height. It was growing in power and this made Bill feel like he had a ball of lead in his stomach. He was quickly losing hope.