Summary: A late season picnic ends in unnatural and dangerous happenings when a storm catches Slim, Jess, Daisy and Mike out on the range and unprepared.
Category: Laramie
Genre: Western
Rating: PG
Word Count: 27,638
Chapter 1
They had stayed just a little longer than intended and who could blame them. After all the hard work of preparing the ranch for the cold winter months ahead there had been no objections raised when Daisy had suggested they could all do with a break. Jess thought back over the past twenty-four hours, trying to rationalize how they found themselves in such a predicament.
The weather had done a sudden about turn. After it had steadily declined to colder, wetter days, with a bite to the wind that was a sure sign of a bad winter ahead, summer suddenly returned and warmed them with a bright sun in clear skies. On the third day of working under the heat of this Indian summer, everyone was feeling tired and irritable and Daisy had decided a rescue mission was in order.
As Slim had settled onto the couch the previous evening after helping Jess and Mike devour the large meal Daisy had served up, he began to name off a list of chores to Jess that needed doing before the rains really set in.
The elderly housekeeper come surrogate mother to the Sherman household had noted that Slim was looking tired and drawn. Though he was usually the more sombre of the two men who owned and ran the relay station and ranch, he usually had a free and winning smile to hand out. Daisy had observed that smile cross the tall blonde’s features less and less during the past weeks of frantic winter preparation.
Even Jess, whose sense of adventure and stubbornness was often the cause for disruption in the household, had been subdued and quiet, worn down by the long hours and heavy work. The sparkle had gone from his blue eyes and Daisy was missing his usually joking banter with Slim and his cheery ‘Hello, Tiger’ greeting when Mike, the youngest of her adopted brood returned from school.
Winter preparations were always hard, as everyone tried to complete repairs, harvesting and all the other jobs that went on at this time of year on a working ranch. Unfortunately, this year, things had been delayed. First by Slim’s trip to Cheyenne to renew the stage line franchise, and then by Jess’ very necessary time in town as acting Deputy while the sheriff recovered from a broken arm incurred by a fall from the jail house roof that he was trying to repair. It was no wonder the two men had had to work flat out to catch up, and now they were exhausted.
Even as Slim spoke, the astute housekeeper had noticed Jess struggling to stay awake as he sat in the rocking chair by the fire. His eyelids had slowly closed, as if his thick lashes were dragging them down. Then suddenly he would jerk upright as a sudden change in Slims voice snapped him awake briefly, only find his physical tiredness was too much and he succumbed again to the delights of sleep.
“Jess, are you paying attention to anything I’m saying” There was a hint of annoyance in Slim’s voice as he spoke, He too had noticed Jess’ battle to stay awake.
“Huh?” Jess’ dark head snapped up again and he brushed angrily at the heavy locks of hair that had fallen across his eyes “Yeah, you, uh, you were saying we needed to get the barn door painted,” Jess said hoping he was remembering correctly.
“Yes, I was saying that. About five minutes ago.” The irritated edge was easily heard as Slims own tiredness ate away at his usual tolerance and understanding. “I need you with me on this, Pard”
“I’m sorry, Slim. You go right ahead; you got my attention now.” Jess forced his blurry eyes to focus on his blonde partner, as he tried to look alert. Unfortunately, his body betrayed him, as once again, under the influence of the fire’s warmth and Slim’s tired monotone, his head dropped down onto his chest.
“JESS!!” Slim rapped out angrily.
This time Jess snapped upright so suddenly he tipped the rocking chair backward and had to struggle frantically to stop himself from tipping back. He failed miserably and hit the floor with a resounding crash. His head hit the stone hearth and for a moment Jess’ saw stars.
“Are you all right, dear?” Daisy asked anxiously, as Slim helped a still groggy Jess back onto his feet.
“Here, you’d best sit on something a little less liable to buck you off,” Slim admonished as he guided Jess over to the couch.
Daisy was quickly by his side admiring the egg-sized lump on the side of Jess’ head
“Thanks, Slim. I’m fine, Daisy, really, I am. It’s nothing that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.” Jess made light of the fall, even though he felt dizzy and his eyes couldn’t seem to focus. There was still work to do and he was needed. They couldn’t afford to slack this close to the end of October.
“We’ve still got a lot of work to do, and I can’t afford to have you laid up. Just go to bed, Jess. We’ll sort out the work load in the morning, when maybe you’ll be more inclined to listen.” Slims voice was harsher than intended, but he was worn down himself, and now this potentially serious accident rubbed at his raw nerves. Driven by genuine concern for Jess’ health, he let his concern turn to a babbling frustration. His logical mind knew that things had just stacked up against them recently, but still the next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Goldarn it, Jess, we’d have been well ahead of schedule if you hadn’t gone off at the drop of a hat to play sheriff!”
That did it. Jess Harper, fun loving, kind and generous, disappeared and the quick temper that he was rumoured to have come to the surface.
“Dadburn it, Slim, you’re the one that volunteered me for that, remember, Pard.” The emphasis on the familiar name was defiantly not friendly this time. “And it sure weren’t no picnic, I was hot footin’ it around town trying to keep those rowdies from the Bar C from tearin’ the place up, while you were off havin’ yourself a fine old time in Cheyenne!” Fuelled by a righteous anger, Jess had stood to face down Slim, and despite the room that was swinging alarmingly in his vision; he was managing to keep on his feet.
Whether from a need to be ready to catch his unsteady best friend, or whether from anger, Slim stepped in closer to Jess, his height giving him an advantage in that he stared down at Jess. “You know I offered for you to go to those stage line meetings, and you all but jumped at the chance of deputy to avoid it. What was it you said? As I recall, it was something about stuffed shirts and pompous officials.”
“Now just a gosh damn minute, you never—-” Jess’ angry, retaliatory remark got no further.
Daisy had seen the escalating situation and decided it was time to calm things down. She had been thinking of a little treat for everyone, and round about now seemed to be a good time to plant the idea firmly in front of the two men as they squared off against each other.
“Jess, I won’t have you swearing, and you know it. Watch your language please. Mike is in the other room doing his homework.” She turned from a suitable subdued and penitent Jess to face Slim. The blonde had a smirk on his face, as he watched Jess’ discomfiture, but it didn’t stay there for long. “And you can wipe that smile of your face, Slim Sherman. You are not exactly behaving in a seemly and gentlemanly like manner. Sit down the two of you. I have something I want to talk to you about and I would like to do it in a civilized manner.”
The two men looked at each other, and saw the embarrassment written on each other’s faces.
“All right, Daisy, I reckon I was a little out of line,” Jess’ face broke into a warm smile as he looked at the woman he had come to think of like a mother.
Slim looked sheepishly at Daisy as he to apologized. “Sorry, Daisy.” Then he turned to Jess, just in time to grab him as he swayed dangerously on his feet. “Whoa, there, Jess. You must have hit your head a little harder than you thought.” He helped Jess to lower himself back onto the couch. “I guess I was being a mite hard on you. You’ve more than pulled your share of the work around here since you came back from Laramie.”
Settling himself next to Jess, Slim again spoke to Daisy. “All right, Daisy, what is it you want to say?”
Lowering herself into the now vacated rocking chair, Daisy smiled at her two eldest boys. “That’s better,” she smiled at them both, pleased that her ploy had worked. “Now you boys and Mike, for that matter, have been working really hard these past weeks, and it shows, in more ways than just the results of the work you have been doing.” The wise housekeeper paused, waiting to see that the two penitent young men before her had understood just what she was alluding to. When they glanced askance at each other she knew they had taken her meaning to heart. “I do not know if you have noticed but the weather has been unseasonable warm the last few days.”
“Oh, we noticed, alright” Jess couldn’t help but comment. “It ain’t easy mending fences under that hot sun.”
“Yes, Daisy we noticed, but what has that got to do with anything?” Slim pushed her for an explanation.
“Just this, dear,” Daisy responded in her best school ma’am voice. “The sun isn’t the only thing that has been heating up over the last few days.”
Slim dipped his eyes and again looked guiltily at Jess. His dark-haired partner had the good grace to blush under Daisy’s keen scrutiny. They both knew they had not exactly been easy to live with over the past few weeks as the hard work wore away at their normally pleasant natures.
Giving a small nod of acknowledgement that they had understood, Daisy continued. “Most of the work is done now, isn’t it?” When neither man spoke up to deny it, she continued. “Well, I think we could all do with a break, and make the most of this weather. Tomorrow is Saturday, so Mike doesn’t have school. Why don’t we take the day off tomorrow and go on a picnic?”
Slim’s face lit up with a broad grin. “Daisy, you are an angel. That’s exactly what we need. One day off won’t harm, and afterwards, we will probably work twice as hard. What do you think, Jess?”
Jess’ mind was already off in the woods, near his favourite fishing hole. His warm smile said it all as he replied. “Yeah, reckon we could do some fishing too, Pard?”
“Good idea, Jess. I’d better go tell Mike the good news” Slim stood as he spoke but was literally knocked down by a whirlwind that went under the name of Mike as he flung himself into his arms.
Laughing, Slim staggered backward under Mike’s onslaught. The young boy had been listening at the door since the angry raised voices had distracted him from his studies. “Can we really go fishing, Aunt Daisy, can we?”
“Yes, Mike, as you very well know, since you were listening at the door.” Daisy didn’t admonish him further as she was feeling too pleased with her success in getting the two men to accept her idea.
However, Jess didn’t let it go so easily. “You know, Mike, you’ll have to watch how you behave. I reckon that old traveling preacher that was here last week would say that sort of behaviour would see you in the hands of those devils and demons he was so busy spouting off about.”
“Aww, Jess. You all said he was just talking silly, to impress the town,” Mike smiled as he said it, but his eyes had widened nervously as he recalled the dreadful spectres the ‘Fire and Brimstone’ preacher had threatened all the sinners in Laramie with.
In actuality, the man had offered to hold a service for the good folks in Laramie, as their own preacher had left a few months previously and as yet there had not been a replacement. Daisy had insisted that they had all been without a little religious guidance long enough and she had cajoled, teased and persuaded her odd little family to attend the Sunday service. After being on the receiving end of an hour-long sermon on the horrors that awaited them, sinners one and all, in Hell, even Daisy had cause to regret her decision.
Jess laughed, “It’s all right, Tiger. I don’t think he had you in mind when he was preaching up a storm. It’s likely I’ll be the one that’ll be drawing down on those old devils and demons he was talking about.”
“Now, Jess. Don’t go encouraging him,” Daisy chastised, but the amusement was clear in her eyes.
“You know, Daisy, I think the devils would likely refuse to take old Jess here on. He’s so stubborn and ornery he’d as likely prove more trouble than he’s worth,” Slim stated and then sat back and waited for Jess’ reaction as his words sunk in.
The return of the easy-going camaraderie between the two best friends filled Daisy with a warm feeling as she watched Jess’ face change as enlightenment dawned on him. Slim noticed to, and stood to move slowly away from him.
“Hey, are you saying even the devil himself is gonna turn me down! Why you, I’ll show you stubborn and ornery!” Jess stood up quickly, intending to pursue his older comrade, but before he could move more than a few steps, the room spun around and he grabbed at the table to steady himself.
All teasing forgotten, Slim was instantly there, offering his support. “Easy there, Jess. I reckon you hit your head a little harder than we thought.”
“Aw, it ain’t nothin’,Slim. A few good hours of sleep and I’ll be good as new. There ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from a day of fishing and one of Daisy’s special picnics,” Jess re-assured them all.
“All right, Jess. I think it is bed for you, and then hopefully you will be set to go in the morning. Mind you, Jess, if you’re not fully recovered, we will not be going anywhere, and I won’t take any arguments from you about that.” Though Daisy softened her warning with a smile, both men knew better than to defy her when she was in full mothering mode.
“Guess I’ll turn in too, Daisy. I want to be bright and fresh in the morning so I can enjoy watching Jess’ face when I catch all those big trout.” Slim expected a smart retaliation from Jess and was mildly worried when he got none. ‘He must really be exhausted or that hit on the head is more serious than he’s letting on’ he thought, and made a mental note to watch Jess’ carefully in the morning. Slim knew from experience that Jess tended to make light of his health, dismissing any inquiries with a simple ‘I’m fine’.
A loud yawn from Mike drew everyone’s attention to him. “Sorry, he mumbled, as he tried to stifle another yawn behind his hand.
“I think it’s your bedtime too, Mike. Off with you now” Daisy swatted him lightly on his backside and gave him a gentle push in the direction of his bedroom.
Mike protested with a loud “Aww, gee,” but he went anyway, wishing them all a goodnight around a third gigantic yawn.
Slim watched Jess as he moved gingerly toward their bedroom. He could tell by the way he supported himself on the furniture that he was still a little dizzy. As Jess disappeared into the bedroom he shared with the blonde, Slim turned to Daisy and read the concern in her eyes. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep a close eye on him. If he’s not alright by tomorrow I will make him stay home, even if I have to hogtie him to his bunk.”
It never ceased to amaze her how Slim seemed to be able to read her mind, especially where Jess was concerned. The dark-haired drifter with a troubled past had somehow worked his way into both their hearts, and while Daisy loved each and every member of her surrogate family, she had a soft spot for the handsome ex-gunslinger who just seemed to attract trouble. “Poor Jess. He won’t be happy at all if we cancel the trip,” she said, almost to herself.
But Slim heard her and replied. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Daisy. Say now, what about you. Aren’t you going to bed?”
“Don’t worry, I will be soon. I just want to get a few things together ready for the picnic. If Jess is alright, I am sure we will all want to get an early start.” Daisy smiled as Slim bent forward to kiss her on her cheek. “Goodnight, Slim, dear.” Then she turned and headed into the kitchen, leaving Slim to his own devices.
It wasn’t long after that the ranch house resounded to the soft snores and deeper breathing that signified everyone was getting some much-needed rest.
**********
Chapter 2
“Hey, Jess, wake up. Come on, sleepy head” the commanding voice broke through the fog and fuzzy pre awakening thoughts that rattled round his brain. His head felt muzzy, a dull headache throbbing at his temples, as he finally focused on Slim’s voice.
“Have you forgotten we’re going fishing today?” Slim tried to encourage his still drowsy friend to wake up.
The word fishing caught Jess’ attention and he forced his eyes open to focus on Slim. “Huh? Wh-what?” he questioned.
Noticing that Jess was proving even more difficult to wake up than usual, Slim had a moment of hesitation. “Well, that is if you’re up to it?” he enquired as he remembered the previous night.
Jess’ head finally cleared and the promised day off materialised in his thoughts. He knew he was still a little woozy and the dull throb over his eyes was most likely the result of his tussle with the rocking chair, but he also recalled Slim’s threat to call the whole thing off if he wasn’t up to it. There was no way he was going to miss a chance for a day of fishing. “I’m fine. Can’t a man wake up in peace around here?” He glared at Slim as he spoke.
Giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, Slim laughed “Not if he wants to get out to that fishing hole before it’s time to turn tail and head back.”
“All right, give me a minute to shave and freshen up, then I’ll help get the wagon hitched.” Jess spoke as he pushed himself up on his elbows, and hoped Slim didn’t notice the way he narrowed his eyes against the bright light from the window. Light’ he thought, suddenly aware that it was full morning outside and he had overslept. “Say, just what time is it anyway?” he asked.
“Just about the perfect time for us to be leaving on a fishing trip, if a certain lazy person would get up and join the rest of us.” Slim admonished.
Swinging his legs out of the bed, Jess sat glaring at his best friend. “What you go and let me sleep so late for? Now we’ll never get a full day in, by the time we get everything ready,” he complained.
“We thought an extra hour in bed might help that hard head of yours,” His blue eyes radiating mirth, Slim continued. “Calm down, Pard. Everything is ready. It’s just you we are waiting on.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Jess stood and headed for the wash stand as Slim went off to help Daisy load the picnic basket that she had been busy filling with goodies. For a brief moment, when Jess had first roused, Slim had thought they would have to call the trip off, as Jess didn’t look too good. But he seemed fine now, and Slim was looking forward to the day’s outing. He enjoyed a good break as much as the next man, and a day fishing, dozing and generally being boys, topped off with a basket full of Daisy’s good cooking, looked to be as good as they came.
Suddenly, Jess remembered the most important thing as far as he was concerned. “Hey, Slim, you mind asking Mike to load up that new fishing pole of mine. It wouldn’t be the great day we’ve planned if’n I forgot that. Using that is gonna ensure I land a bigger catch than you.”
Slim had still been a little worried about Jess, but that parting remark re-assured him that there was little wrong, which was exactly what Jess had intended it to do. “Already done, Jess. Mikes about as excited over seeing you use that thing, as you are to use it. Won’t make no dang difference though. It’s the skill of the man doing the fishing, not some fancy gewgaw bought off a travelling salesman from back east.” Slim laughed and ducked as Jess’ towel flew by him. “Better hurry up, Pard. Those fish won’t wait forever.” Then he was gone, to join the others outside.
Despite the residual headache, Jess took mere minutes to get ready and join the others outside. Mike was sitting on the back of the wagon, his kite at the ready. He was fairly bouncing in anticipation of a day spent in the company of the two ranchers he regarded as older brothers.
“Gee, Jess. What took you so long? Seems like we’ve been waiting here forever,” the young boy greeted his hero.
Jess cast a withering glance at Slim, then smiled at Mike. “Well, I’m here now, Tiger, and I can’t wait to get to those fish.” He headed round the wagon to his horse, that Slim had ready for him. As he passed Daisy, the astute housekeeper peered closely at him, aware he was shading his eyes with his hat. Slim had assured her Jess seemed fine, but she knew her stubborn middle son well, and was not easily fooled. “Are you sure you are all right, Jess?” she enquired.
Well aware that Daisy could read him like a book, and would see the lie in his eyes, Jess mounted keeping his eyes facing ahead as he replied. “I’m about as fine as a man can be, I reckon. Thanks for asking, Daisy. Now let’s get going. I’m eager to eat some of that good food you’ve packed.”
Daisy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my!” she exclaimed. “You haven’t had your breakfast, Jess”
Truth be told, Jess’ stomach felt a little odd, probably something to do with the way the scenery kept swinging around him, but Jess was not about to let his family know that.”
“I’m fine, Daisy. I’m keeping my appetite for that fried chicken I smelled cooking. Besides,” he lied “I grabbed a biscuit while I was dressing.” Then Jess urged his horse forward, encouraging the others to follow.
Daisy didn’t recall there being any biscuits left in the kitchen, but she decided not to argue. She glanced at Slim, who just shrugged and followed after Jess. Daisy urged the team forward and accompanied by Mike’s shouts of delight as his kite took to the sky, they headed off to the boys’ favourite fishing pool.
It was an idyllic spot to have a picnic. The small, fast flowing stream had been dammed by a partial rock fall, and the water had slowed in its mad rush to the sea. Here it idled and pooled, forming a deep-water haven for fish to laze in. Trees that had, as yet, not given in to the siren call of autumn and shed their leaves, surrounded the pool protectively and were rewarded for their efforts by seeing their own beauty reflected back to them from the mirror like surface of the still waters.
They had set up their small camp on the small area of soft grass that ran down to the placid pool. Here the trees had not encroached, and the grass had remained crisp and green, nourished by the undiluted sun and a plentiful supply of water. Daisy had settled herself on the blanket Jess had spread for her while Slim unpacked the picnic supplies. Both men had been rewarded by the warm smile that had settled on Daisy’s tired features as she had watched delightedly as the bright spots of reflected sunlight played chase with each other between the leaves and danced across the water.
The day had been every bit as good as Jess had anticipated. Though the headache had remained with him it had been relegated to the far recesses of his mind, surfacing only occasionally if the bright sun caught him unawares or he ran too hard after a laughing Mike during one of the many rough and tumble games they indulged in.
Fortunately for Jess, no one appeared to notice the odd times when he narrowed his eyes or took some welcome support from a nearby tree as he suffered a momentary spell of dizziness. His stomach appeared to have settled enough that he could enjoy some of the fried chicken and apple pie that Daisy had prepared for them all. If Daisy had noticed that he didn’t have his usually veracious appetite, she hadn’t commented.
As Slim had predicted, Jess’ fancy new fishing pole proved to be less efficient than the rough wooden stick and string used by Mike. Much to Daisy’s amusement, the friendly bantering and teasing had predictably ended with a tussle that saw all three of the would-be fishermen joining the local fish population in the pool. After much splashing, pushing and shoving, three wet, but happy participants had clambered out amidst howls of laughter.
Since it was still early afternoon, and the sun remained warm, they had settled back comfortably by the small fire they had lit earlier, to allow themselves to dry out. Daisy had pulled out a small piece of embroidery she was working on, and Mike started to practice the whittling strokes Jess had been teaching him. As was his fashion, when he had the time, Slim had taken an old battered book from his saddlebags and started to read.
Jess’ headache had returned to a noticeable level, so he had lain back, placing his hands behind his head, and pulled his hat over his eyes, hoping to gain some respite from the bright sunlight.
Just quiet at what point he had drifted off to sleep, Jess couldn’t say, but sleep he had. Just as, apparently, had the others. Lulled by the sun and the soft whispers of the wind in the grass, they had given way to the heavy feeling that had seeped through their bodies as they finally allowed themselves to totally relax after the preceding weeks of backbreaking work.
The next thing Jess became aware of was being shook awake by an anxious Slim, who was urging him to hurry up and help them break camp and get saddled up before darkness left them stranded. They had overslept, and misled by the unseasonably warm day, they had forgotten how quickly darkness fell this late into October.
Jess had done his best to help out, but he had been hindered by the headache and dizziness that seemed to have been intensified by the deep sleep he had fallen into. Still, he had done his share, and, fortunately, no one seemed to notice the odd staggering steps he took as the dizziness caught him unaware.
Working quickly, they were soon ready to move out. Slim had looked anxiously at the sinking sun, but had decided that if they set a reasonable pace, they should make it home before full dark. Casting an appraising look at Jess, Slim wondered if the pace would be too much for the obviously still ailing man. He and Daisy had both noticed Jess’ ongoing problems throughout the day, but had wisely said nothing, hoping that the sleep they had let him drift into would resolve a lot of them. Unfortunately, as Slim observed ruefully to himself, it had seemed to have the opposite effect.
Shrugging to relieve some of the tension that had crept into his shoulders, Slim recognised that there was nothing he could do about it now. “All right, let’s get going. Jess, you stay close to the wagon. Make sure it stays on the track in this weak light.” His real intention was to make sure Daisy could keep her eye on Jess, as Slim took the lead for the small party, as they headed out, racing the twilight.
**********
Chapter 3
The wind had picked up not long after they set out, and soon its was whipping the branches in the woodland. Jess looked upward and was alarmed to see the gathering storm clouds. He urged his horse forward alongside Slim, and shouted across at him, hoping to be heard above the wind that now whined and moaned around them joining in an ever-increasing cacophony of sound as the trees creaked and cracked under the force.
“Slim!” When Slim appeared not to have heard him, Jess pulled his horse closer and tried again. “Hey, Slim!”
This time his best friend responded to the urgency in his voice. Slim was well aware of the approaching storm and the threat it posed. “Yeah, I know, Jess. We’ve got to keep going though. There’s nowhere around here to shelter.”
“Think we’ll make it back to the ranch before it hits?” Jess already knew the answer but asked anyway.
“We’ve got to try. It won’t be pleasant caught out in this, but the closer to the ranch we are when it hits, the better. Try and get Daisy to pick up the pace without worrying her too much,” Slim urged the younger man. “I’ll take the lead and make sure the road ahead is clear.”
Slim didn’t need to elaborate; both men were aware that branches, broken by the wind and thrown across the track, could prove a real hazard. Jess dropped back alongside Daisy, but before he could say anything Daisy spoke up. “Do you mind if we went a little faster, Jess. I really don’t want to get my Sunday best dress wet.” She glanced briefly back at Mike and nodded. Jess smiled at her, grateful for her astuteness. Daisy was well accustomed to the ways of the west and its hidden dangers. Her concern was for the young boy who sat in the back of the wagon, preparing to lose his kite to the winds as soon as they were free of the trees. “Mike, dear, I think it would be better if you didn’t fly your kite. The wind is a little too strong for it.”
The young boy was about to protest but he saw the worry on Jess’ face and thought better of it. They all thought he was too young to be told some things, but he was far more aware of the world around him than the others gave him credit for. He settled himself further back in the wagon bed, ready for the bumpy ride ahead as Daisy urged the team on with Jess keeping pace alongside.
The first spattering of rain fell before they cleared the trees, and not long after they came into the more open scrubland, it was falling so hard and fast it was like a grey curtain surrounding them in every direction they looked, within a few brief minutes the small party was soaked to the bone and chilled by the wind that cut through them like a knife. Still, they pushed forward, their only hope of respite being the shelter of home that was still several long, wet miles away.
They had stayed longer than they should have been was the last thought before Jess brought his wandering mind back to the uncomfortable present as a loud crack of thunder sounded in the distance. He had thought their predicament caused by the later than planned return home couldn’t get much worse, but it looked like he was about to be proven wrong. They had definitely overstayed their welcome.
The dry ground, thirsty after the long summer, had at first soaked up the delayed autumn rains. Now, however, its thirst quenched, the deluge lay in puddles, and the rutted track was turning into a treacherous river of mud and hidden dangers. The light was leaving them as the storm clouds covered the sinking sun and blanketed the weak light of the emerging stars and moon.
Despite the urgency to get to shelter, Jess decided it was more prudent to slow down.
He raised his voice, hoping to be heard above the now howling wind. “Slim, Daisy! We need to slow down. The track is becoming too dangerous.”
When neither Daisy nor Slim seemed to hear him, he dug his heels into his horse’s flank, aiming to grab the lead horses’ reins and pull it to a halt before catching up to Slim. He had just drawn level with the team when the harsh sound of snapping wood and a simultaneous cry from Daisy drove all other thoughts from his head. The team moved forward a few more steps and came to an abrupt halt, forced to stop by the unmoving weight of the wagon they had been pulling.
Jess pulled his horse around, and swore at the sight before him. He jumped from his horse, yelling for Slim as he did so. “Slim!!! Get over here, fast!!” He didn’t turn to see if his partner had heard him, he was too intent on reaching the two figures lying unmoving in the mud near the toppled wagon.
His blonde friend had heard both the initial cry of shock from Daisy and his partner’s commanding shout for help. Slim twisted in his saddle, his eyes widening as he took in the destruction behind him. He jumped from his horse and hit the ground running, coming to a stop next to the prone figures just as Jess knelt down and reached forward to help Daisy who was now trying to struggle to sit upright.
Jess had lost his mother when still in his early teens and for many years the space in his heart that she had occupied had been an empty gaping hole in his soul that nothing seemed to fill. That is until a concentrated dose of motherhood in the form of Daisy Cooper had slipped inside and spread her wisdom and love throughout that painful emptiness.
Now the woman that had come to be his surrogate mother had been hurt and he felt guilty. After all he was supposed to have been keeping an eye on the wagon’s progress.
“Be careful, Daisy. Let’s check you over before you move around too much,” Jess urged her as he reached to hold her shoulders in a supporting gesture.
Despite the mud that caked her face and clothes, and her hair that now hung in wet strands over her face, Daisy’s smile warmed his heart and reassured him. “Jess, dear, I am just fine. I really am. Don’t fuss so.” She pushed his hands away gently, and then her eyes flared with concern. “Mike, where’s Mike?” she exclaimed.
“He’s right here, Daisy,” came Slim’s reassuring voice. Seeing that Jess was checking on Daisy he had turned his attention to Mike. A few seconds before the young boy had found himself suddenly tipped out of the wagon as it had suddenly lurched and tipped sideways.
“Is he all right?” Jess now switched his concern to the young orphan boy that had filled another hole in his troubled soul. Mike had become the younger brother that Jess had lost to the same fire that had claimed his parents and the majority of his siblings.
“Apart from a little more dirt he’s none the worse for wear.” Slim peered hard at his younger friend. He was just as worried about Daisy and Mike as Jess, but it was the edge of guilt in his best friend’s voice that concerned him now.
The sight of a grinning Mike sitting up and laughing did little to ease Jess’ fear and concern. He wouldn’t be satisfied till he heard it from Mike himself.
“Tiger,” Jess used his familiar nickname for the boy, “How are you feeling?”
“Gee willikins, Jess, that was the best mud bath I’ve had in a long time,” he laughed. Then the young boy relented as he saw the concerned faces around him. “I’m fine, honestly. The mud made a nice soft landing for me. Are you all right, Aunt Daisy?”
“Nothing that a good hot bath wouldn’t fix. And that goes for you to, young man, as soon as we get home.” Standing, Daisy looked around her. “Well, I guess we had better get going. Is the wagon salvageable?” she asked hopefully.
Shaking his head, Slim allowed himself a brief smile of relief and then turned to Jess. “Guess we’d better go check it out, Pard.” He tilted his head in the direction of the wagon, indicating Jess should follow him.
Reaching the wagon, the two men made a show of inspecting it and then moving around to the other side. Once he thought they were out of Daisy and Mike’s immediate line of vision, slim spoke in a low voice. “We got us a heap of trouble, Jess,” Slim stated unnecessarily.
“I reckon,” Jess responded, swiping at his wet hair as it hung over his eyes. “We’ve got to get them out of this storm, Slim.”
Slim let his worry for them show as he kicked the wagon wheel embedded in the mud. “I know that, Jess, but there isn’t any shelter for miles around here. Nearest place is our own ranch as far as I recall.”
Slim turned his attention to the wagon again, searching for any damage that would prevent it from being brought back onto four wheels again. He really didn’t like the idea of having the older housekeeper and young boy riding back to the ranch. It had been hard enough keeping the sturdy wagon safe on the muddy river that had once been a road. It would be impossible to ensure the horses stayed sure-footed in such conditions.
As if reading his mind, Jess spoke again. “Then we’d best get this thing ready to roll again, Pard. I’ll check the harnesses.” He moved away, his head down and shoulders hunched against the bite of the wind driven rain. Trying not to make it too obvious, he cast a quick look in the direction of Mike and Daisy and was relieved to see the pair had moved back to stand under a small scrub tree. It offered scant protection but it was better than nothing at all.
A few minutes later he stood upright, stretching his aching back, as he finished his inspection of the horses and their tack. “I reckon we just got lucky. It looks like nothing’s broken. Slim, give me a hand to unhitch the team,” he instructed.
Scant seconds later Slim joined him as he struggled to unhitch the team of frightened animals. The recent thunder had them spooked and they pulled back and danced away from the two men as they strove to free the horses from their traces. Even with their gloves, the cold had been biting. Their numb fingers struggled with the rain-slicked leather and chains but finally they were able to move the horses away from the wagon. “Slim, if you take them over by the others and check them out, I’ll get a rope around the wheels on this side of the wagon. If we hitch em’ all to the rope by the harnesses we should be able to use em’ to pull the rig upright.” Now that they had a plan, Jess’ spirits had risen and he sounded a lot more positive than he had a few minutes ago.
“Think it may need our horses to, Jess. Those wheels look to be sunk in there fairly deep.” Slim led the horses over to the tree where their own mounts where tethered. After a quick inspection showed that the horses, though frightened, had suffered no physical damage, Slim released them. Grabbing their reins, he led them back toward the wagon again.
A very wet, muddy and unhappy Jess had volunteered himself the dirty end of the job. It had proven difficult to get a rope around and behind the mud trapped wheels and he had ended up on his stomach, wriggling in the mud to get further under the wagon and throw the rope around to the other side of the wheels. He rolled over onto his back, and wished he hadn’t as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Taking a deep steadying breath, Jess started to pull himself out from under the wagon, silently cursing the weather, his aching head and anything else he could blame for their current predicament. He was just thinking things couldn’t get any worse when they abruptly did.
The loud crack split the air and a blinding flash of light caused Jess to screw his eyes up in protection, but none the less it was a second or so before his light blinded eyes cold focus. Frightened screams, animal and human rent the air, and jess could smell the acrid smell of burning. Blinking rapidly and scrambling to his feet, Jess at last was able to focus on the scene before him.
The horses were rearing up, their eyes rolling in fear, as Slim fought to control them. Directly beside them was a tree, sheared in two by the earth-bound lightning bolt, it was now burning fiercely, despite the rain. It dawned on Jess that it was Daisy’s cry he had heard mixed with the horses’ screams of fear, he tried to turn to see if she and Mike were all right, but his attention was drawn back to Slim by a sharp shout from his older friend. “Jess, I can’t hold them,” he appealed.
Driven by the urgency in Slims voice, Jess lunged towards him, hindered by the slippery surface beneath his feet. He was too late. Unable to prevent the disaster, he watched as the drama in front of him unfolded, almost in slow motion. Slim stepped back, seeking to avoid the steel-edged death that the horse’s hooves could deal out. He fell backwards over the fallen branch behind him and his startled cry was lost in the sharp crack of thunder from the storm now directly overhead. The horses pulled frantically away from him, the whites of their eyes showing eerily in the light from the burning tree. The reins slipped from Slim’s wet grip and, finding themselves freed from the human who sought to keep them close to the life-threatening fire, they turned and ran.
Shocked by this further downturn in their fortunes, and unable to do anything but gape after the disappearing horses, Jess once again mentally berated himself. As far as he was concerned this whole sorry mess was his fault. If he hadn’t over slept earlier that afternoon, they would all have been safe and sound back at the ranch right now.
A groan of pain drew Jess’ attention back to Slim, he was struggling to stand and the groan had escaped Slims lips as he had put weight on his right ankle. Daisy and Jess reached his side together.
“Slim, are you hurt, dear?” Daisy enquired anxiously.
Jess’ attention was diverted from his best friend momentarily by the creaking of the lightening seared tree directly behind Slim. The rain had finally dampened the fire, but the badly damaged tree was leaning dangerously.
Stepping quickly to Slim’s side Jess spoke abruptly. “It ain’t safe here, best move back behind the wagon.” He looked across at Daisy, “You too, Daisy. Where’s Mike?” Jess’ fear for the young boy he loved like a younger brother was evident in his voice.
The young boy answered for himself. “I’m here, Jess.”
Jess anxiously peered through the dark in the direction of the voice and rewarded by the comforting sight of Mike stepping from behind the wagon where Daisy had instructed him to stay.
Slim stepped forward and groaned as again the sharp pain stabbed through his ankle. Jess peered at his friends face in the dim light of the smouldering tree and was alarmed by his pale, pain lined features.
Before Jess could ask the inevitable question, Slim told him what he needed to know. “My ankle hurts like blazes when I stand on it. I think I sprained it when I fell.”
Swearing under his breath, and hoping that was indeed all Slim had done, Jess offered his shoulder to Slim to lean on. “Here, Pard, let’s get out of the way of this thing and then we can check it out.
Offering Jess a weak smile of thanks, Slim took the offered support gratefully and the two men hobbled way from the imminent threat of the smouldering tree, closely followed by Daisy, who was hovering anxiously on Slim’s other side.
They rounded the side of the wagon and Jess lowered Slim to the ground where Daisy immediately put her nursing skills into action checking on the injured limb.
Peering through the gloom at the devastation around him, Jess couldn’t see how things could get any worse. The horses were long gone and they were on foot out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe the two men, uninjured, would have a chance of getting to shelter within the next few hours, but they had Daisy and Mike with them and now, what with Slim’s injured ankle…., Jess shook his head in frustration, his rain-soaked dark locks showering water in all directions. “Goldurn it all,” he muttered in frustration, then more loudly “Slim, you sure there ain’t no place around here that’s a mite nearer than home. Even an old line shack……?” he prompted, already knowing the answer but having to ask anyway.
Slim glanced up from watching Daisy as she examined his ankle. He shook his head dejectedly. “Sorry, Jess. No one’s settled out here for many years. When I was a child there was a ruined house on an abandoned ranch but we all avoided it. It was a dangerous ruin then. OUCH!” Slim complained.
“Sorry, dear. I’m almost finished” Daisy consoled. “Nothings broken but you have sprained it badly. I’ll just bind it up with a strip from my petticoat.”
As Daisy busied herself tearing a strip from her undergarments and wrapping Slim’s now rapidly swelling ankle, Slim continued his explanation. “My father, as I recall, told us that once there had been a very expansive ranch house out here. The house was supposed to be a really grand place, finer than a lot of houses back east, but not many people had gotten to see it. The owner, a Mister Jameson I think, was a recluse, as was his family, and discouraged visitors. The ranch failed and the owners disappeared, went back east, or something, no one ever really knew. Us kids used to avoid it. It looked creepy and dangerous,” Slim laughed at his revelation of a childhood fear. “My father used to dismiss the tales and rumours that were spread about the place, but he told me to avoid it as the ruin was dangerous. And, no, Jess, before you ask it, I doubt there is even a stone left standing now, it was in ruins when I was Mike’s age.”
“That should help, Slim” Daisy interrupted any further information Slim may have given. “Try standing on it,” she further instructed.
Standing upright, Slim gingerly put is weight on his bandaged ankle. It was still painful, but considerably more comfortable than before. “It’s much better, Thanks, Daisy,” he lied.
Looking around him, Slim quickly took in the devastation. His glance took in the wrecked wagon, and the drenched, muddy exhausted appearance of his three companions. Daisy was, under normal circumstances, perhaps the least able of them to tackle the journey that lay ahead. Mike, although full of energy, was still only a young boy, and ahead were several miles still to be travelled, hampered by the wind and rain. Now however, his sprained ankle made him the greater liability, and Jess wasn’t that much better off. Slim knew Jess was suffering the symptoms of a minor concussion from his accident the previous night, despite Jess’ attempts to hide those symptoms.
Jess had gone rummaging around the wagon while Slim was testing his ankle and he now appeared next to Slim. “Here,” he said, as he handed Slim a stout branch. “This may help.”
“Thanks, Pard” Slim took the branch and leaned some of his weight on it. It did help somewhat. Squaring his shoulders, Slim straightened and looked at the sodden group. “Well, we’d best get going. There’s a long way to go, and it isn’t going to get any shorter, the longer we stand here.”
“Need any help?” Jess offered his shoulder to Slim again.
Shaking his head, Slim declined.” I’ll be fine with this,” he nodded at the branch Jess had given him. “You’d best stay close to Daisy and Mike, Pard, in case they need help.” To himself he added “Or in case they need to help you.”
Heads down against the wind driven rain, the bedraggled family set out in the general direction of the Sherman ranch.
**********
Chapter 4
The trail they followed was barely visible in the weak moonlight that broke through the thunderheads. Jess’ always-present headache seemed to be building in its intensity but he refused to think about it. Instead, he watched the others as they walked steadfastly forward against the biting wind that seemed to be trying to blow them right back to where they had started. He had automatically taken the rear position, so he could pick up any stragglers and help if any of his small family seemed to falter.
Slim was in the lead, setting a brisk pace despite his ankle. Periodically Jess squinted through the sheet of rain, watching for any sign that Slim’s limp was worsening. The stinging ice-cold rain felt like needles as it hit their faces and eyes, so they kept their heads down most of the time, focused on the trail immediately beneath their feet. Perhaps that was just as well as it was difficult to see more than a few feet ahead.
Though they fought valiantly against the angry elements, the struggle began to take its and their originally brisk pace slowed. Exhaustion, fed by the bitter cold rain, crept up on them, and their steps became heavier as they battled onwards. Valiant Daisy was the first to succumb, and she stumbled over the uneven ground. Jess heard her surprised cry and lunged forward to try and steady her, but Mike, who had been directly alongside her, had managed to catch her flailing arms and support her.
“Slim!” Jess’ strained shout reached Slims ears, barely audible above the howl of the wind.
The man in the lead heard the appeal in his best friend’s voice and twisted around to face the rag tag group. He was just in time to see Jess reach Daisy and help her over to a downed tree trunk.
Though the offered seat was wet, it was a seat, and right now Daisy needed to rest, if only for a minute. She had been determined to keep up, and not let any of them down, but the effort had taken its toll and now she really needed to rest.
“I—I’m sorry, Jess, Slim,” Daisy stated. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath and then I’ll be ready to carry on.”
“It’s alright, Daisy. Reckon I could take a break.” Jess said, trying to ease her guilt. He hunched down in front of her and Mike, as the small boy had now sat next to Daisy, cuddling in close to share their bodies’ warmth.
Jess looked like he had casually positioned himself in front of the two most vulnerable members of their small party, but Slim knew that he had placed his own body between them and the driving rain, hoping to give them a small measure of protection. The tall rancher joined them, squatting next to Jess; as best he could with his ankle, hoping to increase the sheltering wall the two men’s bodies provided.
Slim rubbed his hands together, chilled despite his gloves, trying to warm them through his gloves and force some feeling back into his numbed fingers. “How are you doing? Think you can keep going. It shouldn’t be too much farther,” Slim asked, trying to sound more positive than he felt. His ankle twinged in objection to the semi squatting position Slim had attempted to achieve. He was unable to hide his grimace of pain from Daisy’s keen eyes.
“Is it that bad, Slim, dear?” Daisy’s voice was sharp with concern.
Smiling ruefully, Slim stood up as he replied. “Only when I do something stupid like trying to fool you into thinking nothing is wrong.”
“Daisy is far too astute for you, Pard. Best just own up to it. I’ll help you if’n you’d like when we start out again.” Jess held Slim’s shoulder as he steadied himself, trying to avoid putting much weight on his protesting ankle.
Jess’ moment of gloating was quickly snatched away by Daisy’s next comment. “I don’t know why you are looking so smug, Jess. After all you have been trying to pretend your head wasn’t troubling you since we set out this morning.”
Jess’ jaw dropped open, and for a brief second, he was actually lost for words. He was well aware that Daisy could see right through his ‘devil may care’ act, but she still managed to catch him totally off guard at moments like this. “I–I I’m fine,” was all he finally managed to say.
“Yes, I’m sure you think you are,” Daisy artfully emphasised the word ‘think’ and Jess looked away guiltily, unable to meet her eyes. In fact, Daisy’s eyes danced with mirth, as she tried to improve the mood of her sodden family. She was no fool and knew their situation wasn’t good, but while it was not pleasant, it was not truly life threatening. At least not if they kept their spirits up and carried on.
“What about you, Mike? You seem unusually quiet.” Slim spoke to the usually boisterous boy, who was indeed sitting still and quiet at Daisy’s side.
In an exact mimic of his hero, Mike gave a small smile and answered with a brief “I’m fine.”
Hearing the echo of his own false bravado in his young charge’s words, Jess dropped back down to Mike’s side again and fixed the boys gaze with earnest blue eyes. “Mike, I know you are taking this like a man, but I know I’m feeling the pace a bit. There ain’t no shame in admitting if you need a bit of help,” Jess stated earnestly, ignoring the suppressed laugh that escaped Slim at the absurdity of that statement coming from Jess.
Under his penetrating gaze, Mike gave in a little. “Well,” he hesitated, then plucking up his courage, he continued. “My hands are a little cold.”
Jess snatched up Mike’s hands into his own, annoyed with himself for not noticing sooner that Mike had not brought any gloves with him. Removing his own black gloves, Jess felt the chill in the small hands now clasped in his. He started rubbing them vigorously and soon they were somewhat warmer. Satisfied that the circulation was now restored, Jess stood up.
“Here,” he said gruffly. “You put these on.” He held out his own gloves to Mike.
Bewildered, Mike shook his head, “B–But what about you, Jess,” he queried.
Tousling Mike’s hair, and then pulling up the collar on the boy’s jacket so that it was higher round his ears, Jess dismissed Mike’s fears easily. “We’ll take turns, Mike,” he stated lightly, fully aware that he would not accept his gloves back until they were all safe under shelter. “Now, come on, let’s get going. I’ve a hankering for a hot coffee and a warm bed.”
The storm had seemed to move off slightly while they had rested, and although the rain was still heavy the clouds had parted enough that they could see a little better as the full moon lit the storm swept landscape. Wearily, but with renewed determination, they trudged on again, their minds fixed firmly on their goal and their bodies warmed by memories of cosy nights around the fire at the ranch.
Slim now took up the rear as Jess led the party onwards, trying to stay on the trail. It was not an easy task, even with the aid of the moonlight. Soon Jess began to feel the loss of his gloves, and he marvelled at how long Mike had managed to ignore the cold ache in his hands. In an effort to ease his own frozen extremities, Jess crossed his arms across his chest and tucked his hands under his arms. It was only a slight improvement as Jess’ clothes were soaked through and stiff with the cold.
Bringing up the rear, Slim noticed this, and hobbled up to Jess, using the branch to support his weight as he hurried forward. “You okay, Jess?” he prompted, then continued before his partner could answer. “Why don’t we share?”
Jess scowled at him, uncertain as to what Slim meant, and then he glanced Slim’s outstretched hand and the glove it held. Jess shook his head in the negative. “You need both those gloves to protect your hands on the wood and you can’t walk far without that crutch, so’s there’s no use giving me an argument on the subject, Pard, cause you’d lose.”
Exasperated, Slim turned to glare ahead of them, “Damn you Jess, why are you always so stubborn?” he said ‘and why are you always right?’ he thought to himself.
Jess was also looking straight ahead, stubbornly refusing to meet Slim’s eyes. This was not the time to get into a battle of wills. In silence, the group pushed onwards. The clouds started to draw inwards again, hiding the moon and slowing their progress down again as the path became obscured from view.
None of them could really say at which point they lost the path, but at some point that is exactly what happened. The path just faded from view, petering out and blending into the general muddy dirt beneath their dragging feet. By the time they realised it was too late, rain had obscured their footprints and made the possibility of back tracking as unlikely as finding the path ahead of them.
Frustrated, Slim raised his right hand, effectively bringing the group to a standstill. Mike had been trudging determinedly onwards, his head down and shoulders hunched against the cold. His first awareness that the others had stopped walking was when he walked right into the back of Jess, knocking the dark-haired man forward. Jess managed to stop himself from falling by grabbing a nearby branch, as his feet did a dance in the slippery mud.
“Sorry, Jess,” Mike mumbled through teeth clenched against the cold, but Jess gave him a weak smile of forgiveness and turned his attention on the person he saw as the cause of the incident.
“What now?” Jess asked, somewhat irritably. His earlier headache had returned with a vengeance now and a warm bed, any dry place in fact, was looking real inviting.
“I’m not sure, Jess.” Slim replied truthfully. “Things don’t look right.” Slim simply could not find any familiar landmarks. He had grown up around here, and even without the trail, he should be able to take them in the general direction of the relay station that was their home. ‘It must be the shadow caused by the moonlight and storm clouds making things look different,’ he thought to himself by way of self-re-assurance.
Before an equally puzzled Jess could ask the obvious question, Daisy spoke for them all. “Are we lost?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Looking around at his “family”, Slim was tempted to spare them further worry with a lie, but decided that Jess, although not as familiar with this area as Slim, knew enough to have realised they had strayed into unfamiliar territory. “In this moonlight everything looks a little different, but we can’t be that far off the trail,” he offered. “What do you think, Jess”
Both men stood tall, turning in a slow circle, peering through narrowed eyes, trying to see a familiar landmark through the heavy curtain of rain and the moon cast shadows. Thunder rolled around them, seeming to bounce of the hills and echo through the surrounding landscape. It sounded as though the storm was circling around and heading back towards them again. As if joining in a macabre dance to the beat of the thunder’s drum, lightening flickered across the sky, giving the two friends a momentary clearer view of their surroundings.
“What the—“escaped from a surprised Jess. He had been standing with his back to the others, looking toward the gently rising hills to the west, in the general direction of where he thought the ranch house stood. Not believing his own eyes, he rubbed at them with the back of his hand. When he looked again, it was too dark to see anything in the direction he was searching.
“Jess, what is it? What did you see?” Slim spun around to look in the same direction as his best friend, peering into the darkness.
“I–I thought,” Jess started to say, then thought better of it. “Naw, it couldn’t have been. It must have been a trick of the light,” Jess concluded.
But Slim was desperate now, worried for the safety of his adopted family. He knew how badly he was feeling so the good Lord knew how bad off the others were. He pushed Jess for an answer. “Come on Pard, you don’t spook easy. What did you see?”
With a shrug, Jess responded. “For a moment, just as the lightening came, I thought I saw the outline of a house, silhouetted against the sky over there.” Jess’ dark head nodded in the general direction of his gaze, the movement shaking off the heavy raindrops clinging to his rain-soaked hair. “Can’t be though,” he continued. “Like you said, there ain’t no homesteads out here.”
“No-one’s lived out here for a generation Jess. Even the old Jameson ranch house was reduced to a pile of stones when I was a child. It must have been a trick of the—” Slim stopped, his words choked of in his throat, as the thunder cracked directly overhead, and lightening flared simultaneously, signalling the return of the full storm. But it was not the flash that stopped Slim in mid-sentence. It was the sight of what appeared to be a large ranch house atop the hill directly ahead.
Slim and Jess turned to each other, both surprised by the apparent closeness of the dwelling, but before either could speak, Mike’s small voice piped up. “Gee, that sure don’t look like a shack. Do you think they’d mind if we woke them up, Aunt Daisy,” he asked hopefully, his eyes glowing with the idea of being warm and dry again.
Daisy had seen the welcome sight also, and though the absence of any yellow warming glow in any window that she could see told her the household was likely tucked up in bed, she knew that no decent person would turn away a distressed traveller on a night like this. “I don’t think they would mind at all, Mike,” she answered his concern with a smile. “Well, boys,” she now addressed the two men, “You can leave the discussion about the house being out here until we are safe inside of it. Come on.”
With renewed vigour, she set off, Mike’s small gloved hand clasped firmly in hers as the two headed in the direction that they had seen in the distance.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Jess,” Slim said, a frown marring his features. “Don’t you think we’d have heard something if a new family had moved in this close to Laramie. I mean that house looked pretty solid, like someone has been taking a bit of time to build it.”
“Oh, come on, Pard. What are you trying to say? It ain’t likely a passel of outlaws trying to hide out would have taken the time to build a hideout as imposing as that house looked.” Even Jess was smiling now, relieved and returned to good humour now that safety for Mike and Daisy was within reach. “I reckon a family has moved in, but we haven’t been in Laramie much lately, so it’s a safe bet we’d not have heard about it. Need any help,” he offered his best friend, still concerned over Slim’s pronounced limp.
Slim batted his helping hand away, and his own spirits now considerably higher, he started out after Daisy and Mike. “Bum leg or not, I can still outrun you.” He stepped out as best he could, and with Jess close beside him, the two friends headed toward the much-desired shelter and safety.
***********
Chapter 5
Their progress toward the building was faster than anticipated. It was almost as if Mother Nature, having lashed them with her fury throughout the night, making them fight the driving wind and rain for every step closer to home, had now relented her cruelty. The rain eased almost to a gentle shower, and the wind switched direction to come up from behind, almost propelling them along the path that had now materialised beneath their feet.
Jess stayed close to Slim in case his friend stumbled, but he needn’t have worried. The wind seemed almost to buoy Slim up, as they narrowed the distance between them and their goal.
Daisy and Mike were already on the broad porch when they caught up to them. Awed by the size of the structure they had all hesitated for a second as they drew closer. In the near blackness no detail could be seen, but the house was substantial. It was a two-story building that looked as if it could easily boast four or five bedrooms.
If any of them allowed themselves to consider how such a big structure had come into existence without even a hint of its construction reaching their ears, none of them voiced this concern. Each member of the rag tag family was close to exhaustion, the brief spurt of energy that the sight of their salvation had given them had now drained away as they reached their goal. They focused now on gaining safe entry, and once warm and dry, letting themselves slip into a deep recuperating sleep.
“I’ve knocked several times already Slim,” Daisy said as Slim raised his fist intending to rap on the door. “Maybe there is no one at home. It is very dark”
“Or maybe, given the noise of the storm, they can’t hear us.” Slim rejoined. Then he knocked again, with considerable force. Even though they were expecting it, Mike and Daisy jumped at the sharp sound. Even Jess was startled at the ferocity with which Slim had banged on the door.
Ever since he had set foot on the darkened wooden porch, Jess had been peering around anxiously trying to pierce the gloom that pervaded the recesses. The air felt really cold, a different cold than the damp chill of the storm filled night. This cold was biting into his bones, gnawing at his gut. He shivered involuntarily, forcing himself to focus on Slim as that worthy raised his hand again.
This time Slim added his voice to the general noise. “Hello, the house. Is there anyone home?”
A minute later, when there was still no reply, Slim tried the handle on the door. It refused to budge. A small hand reached up and tugged at Slim’s sleeve, and the tall rancher looked down into Mike’s cold, pale face. “S—-Slim, I—I’m r–really c–cold,” the young boy shivered. Mike had put on a brave face throughout this disastrous night, determined to show how adult he was. But now, with rescue so close at hand, his last reserves of strength left him.
“I’m sorry, Daisy, but I think we may have to break in, I’ll pay the owners for the damage later.” This time Slim took a few steps backward, preparing to put his shoulder against the door and force it open. Before he could put this plan into action, Jess stepped between him and the door.
Knowing how proper Daisy could be, Jess could see by the look of concern on her face that she did not approve of forcing an entry into some-one else’s home. “Wait a minute, maybe there is a back door, or they sleep at the back of the house,” he said, “I’ll go take a look round the back. Feels like we’ve been in this storm for hours, a minute more won’t harm us, even you, Tiger.” Jess reached forward and made a feeble attempt to tousle Mike’s hair.
Also aware of Daisy’s high regard for proper behaviour, Slim nodded his agreement and hugged Mike against his body, trying to share what little body warmth he had with the boy.
Jess stepped of the porch and headed into the shadows at the side of the house. As he went around the corner and lost sight of the others, he shivered once again as that bone deep chill crept over him again. He squinted into the dark, trying to make out the ground in front of him. Despite the fact that the moon was now out from behind the clouds, the shadows close to the house where as black as pitch.
Jess hoped he could find a way into the house, then at least he would be instrumental in some small way, in bringing his family to safety. He just could not shake off the feeling that their current predicament was his fault. If he hadn’t overslept then they would have been safe at home when the storm struck. If he had spotted the deep hole in the road then the wagon would not have had such a disastrous end and, just as bad, he had then been too slow to prevent the horses getting away.
Jess placed the responsibility for all these unfortunate occurrences on his own broad shoulders, adding them to the weight of guilt he had taken up since the night his family had died in the fire. Strangely too, his headache was back, throbbing over his eyes.
Reaching out, Jess placed his hand against the wall of the building, seeking extra support should he trip. As his palm rested on the wall, a cold so deep it burned, caused him to pull his hand back sharply. He raised his hand close to his face, trying to make out just why it was aching so much. Was it his imagination, or did the skin look an angry red. Even as he stared, the redness seemed to fade and his hand returned to normal.
Jess started off again, this time avoiding touching the wall. It was stupid, he knew, but the experience had left him with a feeling of unease. But it was already too late.
Something inside the dark heart of the building had felt the life within that brief touch. It sensed the presence of a good soul, but also a soul tortured by a deep self-doubt and recrimination. A soul it had waited for, over an eternity of time. It awoke; stretched forth inky tendrils of black thought, tasting and testing the immediate area, and something akin to satisfaction crossed its equivalent of a mind. Yes, it was time to wake. It was time to feed!
As Jess tried to peer into the blackness beyond the windows at the rear of the house, he carefully avoided touching the walls. It was a stupid reaction, he reasoned, but just the same, he couldn’t shake off the feel of the burning cold that had shot through his hand and up his arm. He couldn’t dismiss the feeling of utter despair that had touched his mind during that brief moment of contact.
He smiled weakly as he imagined what Slim would say if he knew how he was reacting right now. It was stupid and silly yet, there had been something, strangeness like an evil presence, when he had touched that wall.
Turning the last corner before rejoining the others, Jess gave himself a mental shake. He caught sight of the shadowy outline of Daisy, Mike and Slim and dragged his errant imagination back to the reality of a cold, stormy but perfectly normal night.
“Well?” prompted Slim, anxiously.
Jess shook his head as he neared them. “Couldn’t see anything through the windows, no sign of life at all. Odd thing though, for a house this size, there’s no backdoor.”
It was strange for a house not to have at least one other door, especially out west where a quick escape might be needed. Right now, this structure offered the only available shelter to the weary group, so no one gave it anymore thought.
Once more Slim stepped back, preparing to break down the door, but before he could complete the action Mike had placed his hand on the door knob, and responding to a slight twist from his child’s hand, the door swung slowly open.
“Well. Mike, how on earth did you do that?” Daisy asked, before raising her eyes to look at Slim. “I thought you said it was locked?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Slim smiled weakly. “Guess I was mistaken,” he said by way of exclamation. He put his arm out across the doorway, still cautious despite his own desire to get out of the biting cold winds. “Best let Jess and I check it out.”
He stepped forward into the doorway, Jess at his side. Both men knew it was probably unnecessary, and yet they both kept their hands hovered over their guns.
As Jess crossed the threshold, he shuddered, the tremor racing through his body. He felt as if icy cold fingers were running up and down his spine. A nervous laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Reckon it’d colder in here than out there. It’s like an ice room” he said, his voice echoing in the hollows of the room.
Slim’s eyebrows raised quizzically. He hadn’t felt that it was particularly cold, but he was slightly bothered by the fact he had been sure the door had been locked when he tried it. Someone must have unlocked it from the inside, and yet, apparently there was no one in this room that he could see. “Hallo the house,” Slims voice boomed out. “Is there anyone here?”
Jess had nearly jumped out of his skin at Slim’s loud shout. He was far from a nervous man, in fact to all outward appearances; he had nerves of steel, as many a witness to his facing down a gunfighter could attest.
The silence that greeted Slim’s call was deafening. There was no sound at all, no creak of branches against the windows, no whine of a draft down a chimney. There was just a black, thick, and heavy nothingness that seemed to soak up all noise.
“Can we come in?” Daisy’s soft inquiry broke the silence, “I really think if there was anyone here, they would have answered by now. You’re shouting was loud enough to wake the dead, Slim.”
Slim stepped further into the room, allowing the two remaining members of the group to come inside. They now stood just inside the doorway, outlined in a weak pool of light from the pale, partially cloud covered moon.
Jess had moved deeper into what he assumed was the lobby, carefully feeling his way through the blackness. “Ugh!” he exclaimed as his thigh bumped sharply against an object that his questing hands soon identified as a table.
“Are you all right, Jess?” Daisy enquired.
“Just fine, Daisy. Hold on a second,” he instructed. His questing hands had found what he was looking for. He fumbled in his jacket pocket, hoping the rain hadn’t got in thee as well. A few seconds later and there was a flare of light as Jess managed to get one of the few matches he had, to light. He fiddled with the storm lamp he had found, and finally it sputtered into life. Jess lifted it above his head, trying to spread its sickly weak glow further.
A few steps brought him back to Slim and the others. “This may help,” he said, his voice quiet. For some reason, since stepping over the threshold of the house, Jess had felt reluctant to make too much noise. He couldn’t put his feelings into words, but deep inside him something was telling him it would not be wise to draw attention to himself. He tried to tell himself that it was all in his imagination, a product of his exhausted, chilled body and perhaps that bump on the head from the previous night.
Jess glanced down at his hands, trying to ignore the lingering dull ache that was still plaguing him since he touched the outside wall. Like a child, he was beginning to think irrationally, letting his imagination run away with him. Mentally he shook himself, and forced himself to get a grip and act sensibly. “Close the door, Slim. We need to get this place warmed up and see if we can find something dry for us to wear while our clothes dry.”
Before Slim could respond, behind him the door swung shut, closing with a dull thud that seemed to echo around the house.
“W—What was that?” Mike asked anxiously pressing himself close to Daisy’s skirts.
“A gust of wind must have caught it, Tiger,” Jess re-assured. Slim nodded, re-enforcing Jess’ statement, but both men knew that they had not felt even so much as a faint breath of moving air since entering the room. Perhaps they should have crossed back to the door and tried it, but right now that was not important, and neither man had any reason to be suspicious of the situation. If they had tried it, they would have found it locked tight. Unyielding and unresponsive, re-enforced by forces incomprehensible to the people now trapped within their dark grasp, the door would not have budged.
But the priority for the men now was to check out the rest of the house, to see if anyone was here at the moment, and to find some means to light a fire and start the process of getting them all warm and dry again. ‘That achieved a nice strong coffee wouldn’t go amiss either’ Jess thought.
Holding the light ahead of them, like a weapon against the darkness, Jess led them further into the room until he found a chaise lounge actually set close by a large fireplace. Unfortunately, the fireplace was empty, devoid of any means of getting a warming blaze started.
They may have found a haven from the cold and rain, but they were not safe yet. They were all still soaking wet and exhausted. If they did not get dry soon their temperatures would drop dangerously as their wet cloths dried on their bodies, sucking what little warmth they had left, out of them. All the adults in the small family were well aware of this still present danger.
“There’s got to be some dry clothes or at least a blanket or two around here somewhere,” Slim stated.
“Yes, and some firewood” Jess rejoined looking longingly at the empty fireplace. He felt a desperate need to see the welcome, soul-warming glow of a roaring fire in that empty cold maw.
Eyes narrowed, Jess peered around the room, trying to see if there was another lamp they could use. He could see none. What grated on his nerves even more was the fact that everywhere look spotlessly clean, no dust or dirt anywhere, and yet no one seemed to be in residence. He turned toward the door they had entered by. Something was worrying at him grating on his already raw nerves. There was something very wrong, but he couldn’t pin the abstract feeling down long enough to give substance to his thoughts.
He dismissed his unease by moving toward positive action. “Here,” he placed the lamp on a small table next to the chaise lounge. “You two need this at the moment. Slim, you take left, I’ll go right.”
“Right. I’ll see you back here in twenty minutes,” Slim instructed, but before either man could move away, Mike spoke again.”
“Can’t I come with you, Jess?” he asked.
Jess glanced quickly at Slim, who, in turn, shook his head quickly. “Tiger, I appreciate the offer, but we need a man to stay here to protect Daisy,” Jess explained.
“That’s right, Mike. We can’t go off looking for supplies and leave Daisy here unprotected. We need you here to make sure she is safe. It’s a big job for a gown man, Mike. Do you think you are up to it?”
With great insight into the workings of the young boy’s mind, Slim had said the magic words. “Gee, Slim, I’ll stay here and look after Aunt Daisy. You don’t mind do you Jess. You will be able to manage without me, won’t you?” Mike didn’t like to think he was letting his hero down, but Slim had just asked him to do a real man’s job, and he desperately wanted to prove he could do it.
“I reckon I’ll just have to manage, Mike,” Jess cocked his head to the side, giving Slim a knowing smile, before looking down into Mike’s eager face again. ” I could have really used your help, but, well, I don’t want anything happening to Daisy. I mean you know how I can’t survive without her apple pie.” Jess felt better for the humour Slim had injected into the moment, and joined in himself.
Placing her hands on Mike’s small shoulders, Daisy turned him to face her. “Thank you, Mike, I will feel much safer knowing you are here,” she added her persuasive voice to the men’s.
After settling himself on the chaise next to Daisy, Mike watched as the two men he considered his older brothers, walked away into the darkness. “Take care,” he called after their retreating backs.
The conversation with Mike had briefly lifted the uneasy feeling Jess had been experiencing since entering the house, but now, as he moved off into the cloying gloom, he could no longer see even the vague shapes of his family. He felt suddenly alone, and like a thick coat, the feeling of foreboding came back to settle on him.
**********
Chapter 6
Moving through the darkness, Jess lost all sense of time. The darkness seemed to smoother everything, even the sound of his footsteps as he stepped cautiously forward, avoiding the furniture that seemed to loom up at him, solid black shapes barely discernible in the pervading dark.
No light permeated through the windows; no drafts stirred the curtains. If he didn’t know better, Jess could almost believe he was the only living thing in the mausoleum like interior. Three immaculate unlived in rooms later, Jess came to a dead end. His search had proved fruitless. Each room luxuriously furnished, but strangely lacking in any sort of covers, clothing or lamps.
The last room appeared to be a kitchen, with a small scullery off to the side. The table was set for a full meal, yet no food was in view, the oven was stone cold, spotlessly clean and obviously long unused. There was no wood in the wood store to offer the warmth of a fire or the hope of a warming cup of coffee.
Jess shivered, goose bumps moving up and down his spine. He had been forced to live a hard life, surviving on instinct alone, and right now his instincts were screaming at him to find the others and get out of this place.
It bothered him, this silence and pristinely clean house It was shrouded in blackness far more sinister than the mere absence of light. “Slim would no doubt laugh at me; the big bad gunslinger being spooked by an empty house.” Hell, he felt like laughing at himself, but the feeling of foreboding persisted and grew. His skin crawled and he felt he was being watched. Turning in a slow circle, his eyes narrowed in an attempt to pierce he gloom.
He could see nothing to account for his unease. With a frustrated sigh, Jess turned, intending to head back the way he had come. Then it hit him. That small thing that had nagged at him suddenly became a crystal-clear realisation.
He was wet, muddy and miserable. Water had relentlessly fell from him in a steady drip since entering the house, and yet he’d not heard a single splash of water. Jess cast his eyes downwards to look at his mud-covered boots, then, reluctantly, almost fearful of what he would see, he raised his gaze slightly to take in the floor across which he had walked a few scant seconds before.
Nothing! There was nothing to show he had walked across the polished wooden floor and ornately patterned rugs. Not one single patch of moisture or splatter of mud disturbed the perfect appearance of the room. He was an intruder here, and whatever forces were at work in this strange building, they were trying to wipe out all evidence of his presence.
Jess was by no means stupid. A hard childhood and a need to grow up fast after his family’s death had limited his schooling. He had survived by his quick wit, even quicker gun hand, and a strong sense of justice. He was not a young man given to flights of fancy and imagination. His life had not given him the advantages of book learning, but he had learned early that not everything could be explained away, and it was sometimes safer to act first and ask questions later. Right now, it was time to act. He could ponder on it once they were all safe, back at the ranch.
With increasing speed, the young rancher headed back to where he had left his ‘family’. Heedless of the pain and bruises he was causing himself as he bumped into furniture in his haste, Jess pushed forward through the dark. Some remote part of his mind was telling him that if he looked behind him, the room would be exactly as if he had not passed through, but there was no way Jess was going to stop long enough to confirm his suspicions. He had to get back to Slim and the others.
In reality Jess knew it had only taken him a couple of minutes to search through the rooms, and it should only have taken a few brief seconds to get back to the people he cared for more than life itself, but it was as if the house itself was seeking to slow him down. It felt like he was running for hours before he finally found himself back in the room where he’d left Daisy and Mike.
At least, he thought it was the room where he had left them. Jess took a few deep breaths, trying to control the panic rising in his chest again. Yes, it had to be this room. There was the chaise lounge by the empty fire, illuminated by the pale glow of the lamp he had left on the table. The only trouble was Daisy and Mike were not sitting where he had left them.
Frantically, Jess’ gaze raked the room. He wanted to call out to them, but something told him it would not be a wise thing to do. Somehow, he felt that it would draw unwanted attention to himself. The attention of something resting within this house that was best left undisturbed.
Finally, his gaze fixed on the door by which they had entered, for what now seemed like an eternity ago. Logically, he reasoned that Slim had returned for them. Maybe Slim had had more luck than he had, and had taken them somewhere they could dry off. But then, why hadn’t Slim come after him. Perhaps they too had noticed something very odd about the house, and decided it was better to brave the storm outside rather than whatever lurked within.
Resolutely Jess stepped over to the door and pulling down on the handle went to open it and check outside. He pulled hard, but only succeeded in jarring his shoulder sharply. The door remained shut. Jess now employed both hands and put all his strength into wrenching on the door, but it refused to open. Refusing to panic, but now growing more and more concerned for Daisy and Mike’s safety, Jess forced himself to fight down the urge to shoot the lock. It was obvious the two missing members of his adopted family had not left by the front door.
Taking deep breaths again, using cold reason to suppress his growing fear for their safety, Jess strode over to the lamp, intending to use its meagre light to go in search of Slim and the others.
Picking it up he hefted it higher, trying to force its sickly glow to illuminate the room. It failed to cast a circle bigger than an arm’s length from Jess. Recent experience told Jess that there would be no trail to follow. As much as his logical mind told him there should be some water or mud, his recent discovery of the macabre lack of any evidence of his own movements was firmly etched in his befuddled mind. Jess dropped his eyes to the floor, the part of his mind still grounded in reality insisting he search for some sign to indicate which way Daisy and Mike had gone.
He was about to move off, heading in the direction he knew Slim had taken, when his keen eyes picked up a darker patch on the shadowed floor within the small circle of light. It seemed out of place on the spotlessly clean, dust free floor. Jess stared at it for a moment; sure, it had not been there when he had left to search the house.
Dropping to a crouch, he reached forward gingerly and touched his fingertips to the stain. Slowly, fearful of what he would find, Jess raised his fingers towards his face, bringing them in close to give him a good view of the sticky fluid now covering them. His heart leapt into his throat as his senses recognised the deep red colour and metallic smell of blood.
As the full impact of his discovery hit him, Jess felt the room swing around him, his shocked senses reeling. With a shaking hand he reached out to the table to steady himself.
Eyes wide, trying to see into the dark recesses of the room, Jess drew a ragged breath. He tried to think his discovery through logically, but it was difficult. His head was still reminding him of the head injury he had received less than twenty-four hours ago and now he was reeling from the shock of his discovery.
Perhaps Mike had hurt himself when he fell from the wagon. Perhaps a cut had opened up and Daisy had taken him off to find somewhere to clean up the cut. ‘Yes! That was it. A perfectly innocent explanation for the blood and the absence of Daisy and Mike,’ Jess tried to reassure himself. But deep inside, that primitive part of all human beings that sees the boogey man in the shadows, was screaming at him to get away, and that it was too late to help those already lost to the evil that was this house.
Sanity and logic won out and Jess set about following the small dark stains that marked the trail of blood that would soon see him reunited with his family. He never once allowed himself to question why, when every other sign of their passing was silently wiped away by the house, the blood trail was left clear and untouched to guide him on. Even so, while his left hand hefted the lamp ahead of himself like a weapon against the encroaching blackness, his right hand hovered over his gun butt, ready to grasp its reassuringly hard reality.
Moving forwards, Jess was even more unnerved by the fact that these new rooms seemed as untouched as those he had recently checked out. Only the blood was different, and, much to Jess’ growing fear, these dark spots seemed to be growing steadily larger.
The anxious young rancher was becoming increasingly fearful for the health of the person losing so much blood. He stopped trying to look around the rooms through which he was passing, and kept his eyes downwards, fixed on the trail. Hurrying forward, he turned a corner and came to a dead stop, frozen in place by the sight before him.
‘No!! It couldn’t be. There was no way that was-?’ Jess mind balked at formulating the rest of this thought into words. His stomach churned and threatened to empty its contents. Standing still, willing the nausea to pass, Jess was unable to take his eyes of the object that lay on the wooden floor.
He forced himself to reach out towards it, but just as it was within reach, he snatched his hand back, almost as if it had been burned. There was no way he could pick it up. As the significance of what lay there worked on his fuzzy mind, he began to shake, not worried for his own safety, but terrified for his missing family.
The object lay in a pool of blood, but apart from the jagged edge of skin where it had been torn away, the small, delicate ear was undamaged.
**********
Chapter Seven
Jess’ gun seemed to find its way into his hand of its own volition. He pushed himself upright from the wall against which he had sagged as the waves of nausea had swept over him. He would not allow himself to consider whose ear it was, or just how it had been torn from its owner. Nor could he afford to dwell on how such damage could be done without him hearing something. He couldn’t afford to think on such things and stay sane.
Instead, he pushed all conscious thought to the back of his mind and allowed his body to be driven onwards by instinct alone. The instinct to find and save those he loved, his family. He should have called out to them, yelled for Slim to come help, but none of these reactions occurred to his numbed mind. Besides, that primitive part of all of us that still saw ghosts in the darkness kept telling him it wouldn’t make any difference, he was trapped in his own private hell and there was no one to hear him cry out.
Staggering forward, heedless now of the damage he did to himself as he careened into the heavy furniture, Jess doggedly followed the trail. No longer a series of increasingly larger spots of blood, it had grown to a river of red that seemed to fill his sight and mind.
Time lost all meaning, as he moved forward, his footsteps keeping pace with the litany of recrimination that ran through his brain ‘My fault, all my fault. I have to find them. Save them. I’m responsible for this. It’s all my fault.’
Unexpectedly his foot connected with something to send it skittering across the floor. The sound snapped him out of his dark thoughts and he lowered the light to see what he had kicked.
“Oh, Good Lord, No. It can’t be!” Jess shocked voice tore through the silence and echoed back to him. There, lying at the end of the blood trail was another ear, the perfect mirror image of the first.
Jess involuntarily backed away from the grisly sight, his mind trying to deny the implications of this second grisly discovery.
Something soft hit him in the small of his back, and then moved away, only to come back and strike him softly again. Jess froze. His shocked mind was telling him he really didn’t want to see what was behind him, swinging slowly back and forth since he had backed into it. But he had to know, even if knowing confirmed his worse fears.
Slowly, gun at the ready, he turned, his eyes fixed at the level of the object that had hit him repeatedly in the small of his back. A pair of small muddy brown boots registered, then his eyes travelled upwards, taking in the dirtied up tan pants. His gaze lingered longer on the small hands still wearing the all too familiar black gloves, then moved upwards once more, finally coming to rest on the distorted but still recognizable face of the child he had come to love like a younger brother.
A steady flow of blood ran down the blue, bloated cheeks, unchecked, even in death, from the ragged remains of skin that once connected to two small ears. The small head fell limply to one side, the neck having been broken by the thick rope fastened securely around it. But the greatest horror of all was the brown eyes, so soft and loving in life, but now bulging, unblinking in death, as if accusing Jess of abandoning him to this grisly fate.
Mike’s body swung slowly to and throw, the thick rope easily supporting the child’s weight. ‘It should’ve been me. How many times have I cheated hanging? It should’ve been me. My fault, I caused this’ came unbidden into Jess shocked mind. The accusing voice seemed to whisper through his brain, seeking his now frail sanity wherever it tried to hide.
He had to find a knife. He had to cut Mike down. Jess was too late to save the child, but he couldn’t leave him hanging there, a grotesque reminder of Jess’ own failure to protect his new family.
Of their own volition, Jess’ feet had been shuffling backwards, away from the small body that swung slowly to and throw. Suddenly they came into contact with another object. The sudden impact almost sent Jess off balance, but finally honed reflexes came into play and he spun, his gun raised and ready to face the new threat.
Jess should have been expecting to see Daisy. He should have known she would not abandon Mike willingly. She was there, sitting poised in a high-backed chair, staring directly at Jess, and Mike.
The tiny voice of logic in Jess’ mind was there again, its warning cry trying to pierce his numbed mind. Daisy was unmoving, glassy eyes staring. She made no move towards him, had obviously made no move to aide Mike. The whole thing was wrong, and Jess knew it, but didn’t want to accept it.
He moved the lamp closer, not wanting to, but needing to see the truth of it. The lamplight glinted back at him from a smooth metal surface and as he moved it closer, he saw the kitchen knife as it rested in Daisy’s lap, her fingers curled around it. Blood marred its surface, the sharp edge, stained crimson.
Looking directly to the face of the older woman that had come to be a mother to him, Jess stared at the dull, lifeless eyes. The cause of her death was easily seen. Like a second mouth, a hugh slash curved upward in a crimson mockery of a smile from ear to ear across Daisy’s neck.
His mind refusing to accept what his eyes were telling him, Jess again looked into her dead eyes, and gagged as he registered the further mutilation that had been done. Daisy’s mouth was open, a door to hell, blood trailed lazily from the slack lips, flowing sluggishly from the stump that marked where her sweet tongue had once been.
His gun dropped from his nerveless fingers, and Jess staggered away from the grisly site. He turned and doubled over as his stomach heaved and spilled its contents onto the shiny floor. Immediately the mess he had made disappeared as if an invisible and uncaring hand had cleaned it.
Still, even when there was nothing more left to come, his body retched and heaved, as if it was trying to cleanse itself of the horrors of this night from Hell. Tears streamed from his eyes, forced out both by the need to release the emotions that were threatening to tear his soul apart, and the physical pain of the shock that gripped his body, causing him to retch and shake violently.
He had failed them both. He should have been there for them, protected them from the madness that had claimed their lives. Anger arose within Jess, born of his feelings of helplessness and failure. It started as a cold knot in his stomach and grew, until it was a raging fire, an all-consuming need. There was nothing he could do for them now except find their killer and make them pay with their own life.
All logic left Jess, driven out by loss and grief. He turned his back completely on the devastation that represented his family and stumbled away, back the way he had come. A sound up ahead, a soft footfall, caught his attention, and without heed for his own safety he quickened his pace, eager for vengeance and resolution of his guilt.
Once more, he found himself in the entrance room that had seemed to offer salvation such a short time ago, and now was so obviously the start of his journey into Hell. Eyes narrowed, he searched the gloom, seeking the source of the sound to no avail.
Then it came again, the creak of someone putting his or her foot on a loose stair. Jess spun, his need to tear into the killer, this destroyer of his world with his bare hands governing his every move.
Jess saw the shadowy outline of the intruder at the top of the stairs, illuminated by the glow of the lamp it carried. Whoever it was, they appeared unaware of Jess as he stood tensed almost directly opposite the foot of the stairs.
Too far gone in his grief and anger, Jess ignored the small voice of reason that kept trying to question the appearance of a grand staircase in a room that had not had such an unmistakable addition earlier.
As the figure came closer, Jess dropped to a crouch ready to take it down the moment they were close enough. Yet with every step closer the now unmistakably male figure took, a familiarity started to register in Jess shocked mind. A tiny spark of normality started to grow, and with it a sense of relief. Finally, Jess’ fogged brain allowed its self to relax slightly, as he recognized the familiar outline of his best friend, Slim Sherman. A lingering voice kept telling him there was something wrong with what he was seeing, but his need for a return to a familiarity that offered security silenced his nagging doubts.
As the figure reached the foot of the stairs, Jess released the breath he was holding, as the light showed him the familiar features of his one remaining anchor to sanity in this nightmare. He stepped out of the shadows into the circle of light cast by the lamp.
“Slim! Thank God, you’re alive!” Jess’ voice sounded harsh, his throat tight with emotion and roughened by his recent vomiting.
“Well of course I am, Pard. What on earth’s gotten into you? Are you ill?” Slim’s voice sounded out, offering an anchor back to normality. He looked around the room. “Say, where are Daisy and Mike?”
For one brief moment, Jess had felt he had awakened from a bad dream, that if he glanced over towards the fireplace, he would see his dear family sitting there, but the bloated face of Mike swum across his vision and he blurted out, “They’re dead Slim. Murdered.”
The floodgates of emotion opened and Jess sagged back, seeking support from the wall behind him. “I f-failed them Slim. I-I should’ve been there for them. I should’ve stopped it somehow.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Jess. Is this your idea of a joke. Daisy and Mike are right behind you. They’ve just walked back into the room,” Slims voice echoed through Jess’ head, seeming to fade in and out as Jess felt his grasp on reality start to fade again.
Forcing himself upright, Jess turned to look back the way he had come. There, a denser shadow against the other shadows, he could make out the shape of his beloved Daisy as she held Mike firmly by the hand and led him towards the light.
**********
Chapter Eight
Relief flooded through Jess. Then the shock hit him hard. He reached out a shaking hand to Slim and grasped his arm firmly. He needed to feel the solid flesh, to use it as an anchor to reality. ‘What the heck is happening to me?’
“Jess, are you okay, Pard? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Slim stared hard at him. “Is your head bothering you?”
That last comment hit home. ‘Yes. That must be it. I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought last night’. Holding desperately on to that thought, Jess turned back to Slim as he replied. “Yeah. I reckon I must have rattled my brains a lot more than I thought.” But even as he said it, Jess’ inner voice was nagging at him again. Something was not quite right still, but he couldn’t clarify what it was, and he was so desperate for normalcy that he did not want to question further.
Instead, he asked, “Daisy, where have you and Mike been?” Despite a deep need to embrace Daisy and Mike, he was still looking at Slim as he spoke, unable to identify what it was about his best friend that was bothering him, but aware something was odd.
Soft feminine laughter came from over his left shoulder. “Oh, really Jess, If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you had been fretting about us. Don’t you think we can take care of ourselves? I assure you we can.”
The reply was oddly incongruous, coming from Daisy. Before Jess could turn to her, Slim stepped in close to him, placing his hands against the wall on either side of Jess’ shoulders. “Why, Jess, I’d say you were working yourself up a storm of guilt. Typical of you, isn’t it? If there is no trouble around for you to take the blame for, then you go stir up a lot of imaginary problems, just so you can chew yourself out.”
Jess stiffened. This wasn’t the Slim he knew like a brother talking. ‘Sure, Slim knows I can get a little hard on myself at times, and I know I draw trouble like a magnet a times, but he also knows I do know right and wrong, and how I feel about Daisy and Mike.’
There was no way the real Slim Sherman would say such a thing to him. ‘The real Slim Sherman. That’s it!’ Jess thought. “This isn’t real, they aren’t real. This is all in my head. It’s that darn hit on my thick skull last night. Okay, time to wake up, Harper,” Jess pinched himself hard on his forearm. It sure hurt like it was real, and yet nothing changed, Slim was still standing directly in front of him, staring at him with those dull, unblinking eyes.
Then it came to him, that one small fact that had been eating at him since Slim had come down the stairs to meet him. Jess’ lightning-fast reflexes came into play as his right hand snaked out and snatched Slims’ gun from its holster. The same swift movement brought it up to point directly at Sims gut.
“Back off, Slim, I mean it!” Jess’ voice was low and deadly, its steady tone belying the fact he was shaking inside.
Slim obligingly stepped back a foot or so. “What’s this all about, Jess? Gosh darn it, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn’t funny anymore.”
Ignoring him, Jess glared into the cold dull depths of the eyes of the ‘thing’ masquerading as Slim. “Your limp, Slim! Where’s it gone? You could barely take a step without that makeshift crutch when I left you. Now you’re stepping’ out like nothing happened. Just who, w–what,” he corrected himself, “the hell are you?”
The familiar soft drawl left Slim’s voice, to be replaced by an oily, smooth voice that held no hint of place of origin at all. “Ahh! How very astute of you, Mister Harper. Or perhaps I should call you Jess. After all, you are to be our honoured dinner guest.” A slight attempt at a smile accompanied that last remark. “Yes. I do believe I will call you Jess. That will be a much more appropriate form of address, given I anticipate a long ‘friendship’ developing between us.”
The gun in Jess’ hand waved threateningly at the creature masquerading as his best friend. “Where in tarnation are Slim, and the others? What have you done with them? Tell me, or you’ll be chewing on lead.” Jess’ voice was deadly as he delivered his ultimatum. Unfortunately, the effect was not what he had hoped for.
“Oh, come now, Jess. You are behaving in a very ungracious manner. After all, my family and I have been ever so welcoming, allowing you shelter in our ‘humble’ abode, providing all the comforts of home.” The blonde’s head nodded briefly in the direction of the table and chaise lounge. “Why, we have even gone to all the trouble of putting on a little entertainment for you.”
“Cut the crap! Where are they?” Jess’ voice raised an octave, raspy from fear for his friends.
“Very well. I can see there will be no reasoning with you until you know. But first allow me to introduce your hosts.” A red glow seemed to dance in the speaker’s eyes, replacing the light blue pupils that had always offered Jess reassurance and advice, even in the worst of times.
A cold dread was spreading through Jess as he anticipated the next words, but he steeled himself to listen. He had to know. Fixing those glowing eyes with his own steely gaze, he commanded, “Get on with it.”
“Tut, tut. Why must the young be so impatient? One should take one’s time over things, savouring the delights of the changing emotions, wringing every last drop of emotion from a situation. No matter, it will be my pleasure to educate you, no matter how long it takes. In fact, from our point of view, the longer the better.” The speaker saw the taught muscle in Jess’ cheek twitch, and wisely decided I was time for an end to prevarication. It was time for the real fun to begin.
I am Isaiah Jacob Anderson. This is my house you have entered uninvited, but welcome none the less. My family was well known and respected in Salem, where they had lived for several generations.” A sharp intake of breath from Jess interrupted Isaiah. “I see you recognise the name for the despicable place that it was.”
“I heard about the Salem witch trials, but that was a couple of hundreds of years ago. It was a tale to tell children to scare them on dark nights. What’s that got to do with anything?” Jess jaw ached with the tension he felt building there, a further aggravation to his mounting headache.
“Merely background, Jess. Setting the scene, as it were.” Again, that half smile lifted the corners of the pale mouth. “I ruled supreme in my family, a respected member of the town council by day. At night, I was the warlock that led the coven of the most notorious witches in Salem. Indeed, it was the power granted me by Satan in return for my sacrifices in his name that enabled me and my family to enjoy a rich life. We were indeed blessed by the Dark Lord, until the Witch Finder general came, during the witch trials”
At the memory of the start of his downfall, Isaiah’s eyes grew brighter, a festering anger feeding their fires. “It was fun at first, to see those innocents burnt at the stake for witches, screaming their innocence as the fires licked at their bodies. But then fingers started pointing in my direction. At first, we thought we would be safe, untouchable behind Satan’s protection, but the forces of good broke the defences surrounding us. The coven and I had to flee in the night. Many of the lesser members of the coven perished in the flight, victims of the religious zealots.”
Unable to stop himself, Jess found himself speaking. His voice carried a bitter edge. “You seem to have survived.”
“Indeed, I did, as did my two High Priestesses. It is a very true saying that the Devil takes care of his own. We escaped with most of my fortune in gold intact. We went west and with prudent investment, we managed to double our assets. Satan continued to grant us his bounty, but as people grew suspicious over the number of mutilated sacrifices that were found locally, we moved again. This last time we picked an area where life was less civilised. People came and went so frequently that no one took much notice of the comings and goings of folk. It was a good time for us. We were able to increase the frequency of our little ceremonies, and Our Master raised us up in his ranks of followers.” Isaiah’s face was aglow with fervour as he finished his little speech.
Jess recalled what Slim had said about the rich recluse that had disappeared. He couldn’t resist a token verbal resistance, futile as it may be. “Seems I recall the only place around these parts was a ruin. The family disappeared sudden like. That don’t sound like a rich reward from where I’m standing.” He desperately wanted to bring this conversation to an end. He needed to find the real Slim and the others, but instinct told him that if he was to achieve his goal, then he needed to hear Isaiah out.
Slim/Isaiah’s posture changed, he seemed to grow in stature and loom over Jess. “The cursed Witch Hunter’s didn’t give up. They were a scourge to our kind, and though it took them years, they tracked us down. This time they burnt the house to the ground, with us in our beds. When there was nothing left but burning embers, they left as silently as they had come, and the memory of us drifted into legend.”
Isaiah threw his head back, the laugh issuing from Slim’s throat a bitter, scathing sound. “For all their righteousness, they were fools. Once again Satin saved us from the hand of God. Our bodies may have perished, but it was all part of the Dark One’s plan. He breathed new life into us, blessing us with eternal life and the power to wreak havoc amongst mortal men.”
Feeling a need to deflate this self-centred creature that had him cornered, Jess sneered his response. “I reckon you ain’t been that well done by. I don’t recall any-one speaking about you or your havoc round these parts lately.”
Jess found Slim’s face inches from his own, the blonde’s hands locked on Jess’ shirtfront. Powerful muscles lifted him bodily upwards, his feet leaving the floor, and yet he still chose not to use his gun. Whether this was from the need to find out the truth, or the fact that whatever Isaiah claimed to be, the hands holding him belonged to someone who was Slim down to the last hair on his head. Suddenly he was flung up and away, as if he weighed nothing more than a rag doll. He hit the wall hard, his head snapping backwards to encounter the wall briefly, before his legs gave way and he slid downwards to come to a stop sitting against the same wall.
“Almost!” boomed Isaiahs’s voice, and the soft laughter of a woman and child joined in. “You almost succeeded in getting me to kill you. But you will not catch me out again. We have plans for you, as I said. It matters not that we are constrained by the fact that those witch hunters had trapped our spirits on earth within the confines of the land that once belonged to me. On each All Hallows Eve we are free to take the lives of those who stray into our domain. Free to play with their lives, and feed on their pain and fear. We grow stronger with each victim we claim. There will come a time when we will be completely free again”
“Sure, and my name’s Jesse James. Cut to the facts, where’s Slim and Daisy and Mike.” Jess’ head was throbbing, and he was seeing stars, but he managed to sound like he could be a real threat, should he choose to be so. As he spoke, he pushed back against the wall, using it to lever himself back onto his shaky legs.
“Yes, yes, I am coming to that, after all, they are part of the entertainment we have provided for you. Let’s see,” Isaiah made a great show of looking at the two familiar figures, still partly hidden in the deeper shadows of the room. “Yes, I think we will start with Mike. That would be most appropriate.”
The smaller figure moved closer as Isaiah waved Mike forward before continuing to speak. His voice seemed to cut through Jess’ flesh like an icy knife. “Little Mike came to you in rather tragic circumstances, did he not? Of course, you naturally took him under your wing. I know both you and Slim took him in, but he was always special to you, wasn’t he Jess? That must have been because he reminded you of your own lost family and childhood.”
“How the Hell do you know?” Jess asked, although somehow, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
“It is easily read for those who have the will and the way to do so. You wear your heart on your sleeve, Jess, though you think you keep it hidden beneath that rugged exterior. Slim and Daisy, but especially you, Jess, all tried to protect Mike, trying to give him a safe childhood. Did you hope to assuage some of that guilt you carry with you since the fire by protecting Mike? It did not work though. Do you remember how chewed up you were when Mike got shot? You couldn’t protect him then, any more than you could save your own family. You failed him just as you failed them, Jess.”
Jess felt his gut tighten, the old feelings forcing themselves forward from where he had buried them, so long ago. He opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but no sound came out.
“It really is not polite to interrupt, Jess, and I cannot abide impoliteness. I am afraid I have to insist that you remain quiet and hear me out.” Isaiah stepped back, but his hot gaze held Jess transfixed, trapped, an unwilling audience to the unfolding tale. “Mike knew that you tried to protect him from the truths of life. He asked questions, out of concern and a need to know, but you all glossed over the truth, giving him excuses, half-truths to save him from the ‘pain’ of the real world.”
Turning, Isaiah looked out from Slim’s eyes, a cruel grin on his features, as he faced Mike. “It was very appropriate, don’t you think, that Daisy, possessed by Elisha, my high priestess, hacked off his ears. She made sure Mike would ‘Hear no Evil’.”
The small boy stepped forward, his eyes aglow, a close imitation of the flickering evil that could be seen haunting Slim’s eyes. “These are for you, Jess. To say thank you.”
Unable to stop himself, Jess looked down at the ‘gift’ being offered up to him in Mike’s small hands. Jess, gagged, choking on the bile that rose to his throat at the sight of the pair of blood smeared ears that lay in the open palms.
“Mike, Oh, God, Mike. Run, don’t’ let them get you. Get away now” Jess forced out through taut lips. The thing that had once been Mike grinned wickedly back at him, amused by the horror written over the face of the man before it.
“Mike isn’t here anymore, Jess,” the voice that came from Mike’s throat was not Mike’s, but a high-pitched female sound. “His soul tried to stay in control, even as the pain took him. He struggled well, for one so young, to stop me from controlling his small body, but it was doomed to fail.” Mike turned briefly to glare at ‘Slim’. “It isn’t fair. Next time I want the stronger one. I hardly got to taste the fear and the pain before he faded away and his soul escaped.” Mikes foot stamped impatiently on the wooden floor.
Mike was dead, then, and guilt renewed its attack on Jess’ spirit.
**********
Chapter Nine
Isaiah’s next words barely registered at first, unable to penetrate his hurting soul. “Now, now, dear, sheath your claws. I am sure you will be more than satisfied before this night is out. Marsha, you know it was Elisha’s choice this time.” Isaiah’s oily voice again drew Jess’ unwilling attention.
The creature that was imitating Daisy took up the tale “You will be pleased to know Daisy was made of stronger stuff, Jess. She lasted long enough to see Marsha force Mike to climb up on the stool and place the noose around his head. Her soul was screaming for me to release him, even as she saw the small legs kick and jerk as the rope choked the life from Mike’s body”.
“The flavour of her pain and horror was delicious, the protectiveness of a mother for her family, the willingness to sacrifice herself to spare them.” This time it was Marsha that spoke through Mike’s mouth. “It was so powerful a feeling even I could sense it through Mike. It grew to a sweet crescendo of agony and despair as I forced Mike to pick up the knife, and while Elisha held her motionless, Mike’s small hand drew forth her tongue and cut it out.”
Jess stomach revolted again and he doubled up as dry heaves claimed his body. The three devil worshippers seemed to revel in his physical pain and mental despair. He tried to raise his hands to his ears, trying to stop himself from hearing the story of destruction unfolding, but it was a fruitless effort. Invisible hands held his arms pinned to his sides and forced him back against the wall, to hold him motionless there.
“Poor Daisy, even as Mike dropped her tongue into her open hands, she was still struggling to scream at him to run. As she watched him hang himself, trapped in a tiny part of her own mind, her soul was crying out to her impotent God to save you all. She was still trying to call for you, Jess, to warn you, even as I made her pick up the knife and slit her own throat. It was only then, as her life fluid bled out, that her soul finally retreated and lost its hold on this world.” Elisha moved in closer to Jess as she spoke, a wide grin showing the empty, bloodied remains of her mouth.
Unable to comprehend how someone without a tongue could speak so clearly, Jess only knew that the words where tearing at his heart, killing him as effectively as any physical injury.
“Do you know why I took her tongue, Jess?” Marsha/Mike asked, as casually as if asking what time it was.
Despair had turned to a mounting anger in Jess, a need to tear apart these gloating creatures that talked of the death of his family so casually. His hands clawed into fists, his own nails digging into his palms deeply enough to draw blood. But still the invisible bonds held him motionless. He failed to notice how the devil’s spawn surrounding him seemed to glow and preen as they fed on his anger and despair. To them it was a feast after a famine. “I–I’ll see you in Hell,” Jess spat out through clenched teeth.
“How delightful you are, Jess,” Elisha slurred from Daisy’s marred mouth. “And how perceptive. That is exactly where we will all be when the time is right.”
Carrying on as if Jess had not uttered a word, Marsha continued, “I took it for you, Jess. It was the next part in our little three-part entertainment. You see, Daisy was such a righteous woman. She never had a bad word for anyone. She was always ready to tell Mike when to behave, and to help you and Slim see the right path to take. Why, she always was quick to defend you especially, Jess. She wouldn’t tolerate any of the gossip about your past. Why, that poor woman even sullied her soul for you.”
Jess had known how protective Daisy was of him. He knew that, just as he had taken her to heart as his surrogate mother, she had reciprocated by accepting him as a surrogate son. However, that last comment stabbed at Jess’ heart more than anything else Marsha had said. Puzzlement and concern replaced anger and hatred for one brief moment in Jess’ expressive eyes. The new emotions added to the melee of ‘tastes’ that the fiends were feeding on. “W–What–?”
“Have you forgotten? Then again perhaps, you never really knew how much it cost her to lie for you.” This time it was Isaiah that took up the story again, his red eyes glowing with increasing power as he fed on Jess’ despair and grief. “You recall, I am sure, that terrible night Slim was shot and left for dead out on the prairie. It was you that helped bring in the culprit, but later, when you found out he was the only one that could take you to Slim, you broke him out of jail and helped him to escape in exchange for him telling you Slim’s where about.”
Listening to the oily voice of his tormentor, Jess found himself reliving that terrible time, feeling the despair and desperation he had felt that night. He had known Slim was badly wounded, and that it was likely to freeze that night. He had been left with no choice but to do, as he had in order to save his best friend. ‘But did I need to involve Daisy?’ He found himself asking of his own conscience.
In bringing Slim back to Daisy, he had most likely saved Slim’s life, but when the sheriff arrived, searching for Jess, Daisy had lied to protect him and give him a chance to escape. Jess’ face contorted in shock, as he once more felt the pangs of guilt and self-recrimination claim him. He’d had no choice, or so he had thought at the time. Daisy had never anything about it to him at the time, or since, and yet–?
“T–there was no other way—, “he found himself saying, and yet, under the subversive influence of Isaiah’s voice, doubting his decision even as he said it.
“From that very moment, you sealed her fate, Jess,” Elisha lied, continuing on from Isaiah. “She was unable to forgive herself for betraying her own principles. That guilt was so pronounced in her mind when I claimed her that it was easy to decide her part in our little play. You see, Jess, Daisy had to lose her tongue. She was perfect for the role of ‘Speak no evil’.
Stepping in so close to Jess, her body pressed against him, Elisha/Daisy held up her clasped hands in front of his face. Literally spellbound, Jess was unable to look away as she opened her hands to reveal her ‘gift’. There, in the palms of Daisy’s small hands, a pink yet bloodied piece of flesh squirmed and wriggled. “What’s the matter, Jess, don’t you like my gift to you?”
Madness clawed at Jess’ mind, threatening to take him. It would be so simple, just to let go, give in and let the guilt drag him down. Daisy and Mike where dead, and it was due entirely to him. He had sealed their fate by his unwitting actions. They would have been better off if he had never entered their lives.
Around him the three soul vampires seemed to grow, their strength increasing with every stab of guilt Jess felt, with every self-recrimination he inflicted on himself. The food they craved was in plentiful supply in this victim. It had been a long time since they had found one like this, a good man, and yet one that had killed, only to torture himself with remorse at his actions. A man that had been touched by the evil of the world and yet had fought back to save his own soul. He was a feast of emotions, and if they played this right, his soul would feed them for a long time to come, as they tortured and tore at it.
It was a physical pain, not an emotional one, which pulled Jess’ mind back from the brink of madness. Isaiah knew how to take a mortal close to the edge, but not send them over. He had chosen this one well. Jess was strong, he would fight to the end, despite all they would inflict on him, and throughout it all they would feed on him, slowly sucking his soul dry as they ripped him apart physically and emotionally.
The sharp stab in his left arm made Jess look down, breaking the spell. Blood trickled down from the four parallel scratches that showed through the torn cloth. Isaiah raised his hands to reveal dagger like nails at the end of Slim’s fingers. To Jess’ horror, Isaiah/Slim placed the bloodied claws into his mouth, and sucked greedily on Jess’ blood.
If Jess had been any other man, his mind would have slipped into madness long before now, leaving his body an empty husk, of no use to the fiends now toying with him. But Jess was a fighter; his spirit and sense of self would not let him give in, even against impossible odds. It was this strength that added to his attraction to Isaiah and his High Priestesses.
In the past, they had claimed others in this same way, but even the most promising of them had failed to last, as either their mind escaped into madness or their bodies finally succumbed to death. Then only a failing spirit was left, and that to faltered and faded from existence in far too short a time to please Isaiah. Jess promised so much more than that. Perhaps he would be the one whose life force would be the enough to bring them back into the physical world again, to roam the living world every day, and not just on this night of the dead.
“I see I have your attention again Jess.” It was Slim’s face that looked earnestly at Jess, but it was Isaiah’s demon spirit that glowed ever stronger in the once clear blue eyes. “You must not let your attention wander so much. Our little play is almost over and I can assure you, the last act is the supreme climax, the perfect finale before we begin the feast.”
“I ain’t gotta do nothing, ‘cept send you all back to Hell.” Jess’ anger was back in full force. It was his protection, his shield against the pain of loss that threatened to engulf him.
“Now that is so much better. I can see I have the focus of your attention now,” Isiah gloated, basking in the energy Jess’ anger released, knowing that it would multiply a hundred-fold as the final part of the drama unfolded. “Careful, Jess, you do not want to raise me to anger.”
“Reckon you’ve done your worse. Killing me now would be a mercy. You’ve taken my family, only thing I’ve got left is revenge!” Jess was shouting now, screaming his defiance at the devil spawn that cavorted around him.
Once more, Isaiah reached forward, his hand fastening around Jess, throat. Its touch was like a burning lance that speared his throat and stole his air. “You are mistaken, Jess. Daisy and Mike’s souls may have escaped our clutches, but Slim is still very much here. He is in a little corner of this body, shouting and smashing at the ‘walls’ I have put up around him and his physical body. He can see, hear and feel everything but he is powerless to stop me, trapped in his own body and under my control. Would you like to speak to him, Jess. A chance to say your goodbyes.”
Jess suddenly found himself released, once more able to move freely. No longer held upright by an invisible force, his knees sagged and his legs threatened to give way under him. Drawing on reserves of strength he didn’t know he had, Jess lunged forward, aiming to take Isaiah down.
His body, propelled by an anger and need for revenge like none Jess had felt before, hit Isaiah with enough force to take him down. Jess was astride Isaiah, the advantage, for a moment at least, clearly his. His right fist connected with Isaiah’s jaw. The force of the blow sent a jarring pain up his arm. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered now that he had Isaiah at his mercy.
Again, and again his fists hit home, and Isaiah made no move to defend himself. Jess never stopped to question why, nor why the others just stood and watched. Jess glared at Isaiah; his steely gaze locked with Isaiah’s glowing red orbs. Then a change in the demeanour of the battered face beneath him registered on Jess. He no longer found himself looking into the fiery depths of Hell, but into the pain clouded blue eyes of his Pard.
“S—Slim?” he rasped, not daring to allow himself to hope.
“Jess! For the love of God, Jess, run. Save yourself,” Slim pleaded, desperate to get Jess to understand the danger he was in. Slim, trapped in the prison of Isaiah’s making, had been able to ‘see’ all that Isaiah had planned for his younger friend. Slim knew he was doomed, that his mortal life was already forfeit, but he also knew that his immortal soul could not be touched by these devils. They had the power to take only one soul as the hour struck midnight. Slim knew beyond a doubt that the soul they wanted, craved and needed was Jess’.
“Slim!” Jess ignored the warning. Slim was back in control of his body. It wasn’t too late for him. Jess stood quickly and reached to pull Slim up after him. “We’ve got to get away from here.”
Slim picked up the gun that Jess had dropped as he had lunged at him just seconds before. “Take this,” he shoved it into Jess’ startled grasp. Slim could feel Isaiah’s black presence writhing within his mind, and knew the warlock had released his control by choice. Isaiah was toying with Jess, and could easily snatch back Slim’s body when it suited him to do so.
Desperate to safe Jess soul, Slim tried again. “It’s too late for me. Shoot me, and while he is weakened, escape.”
Jess recoiled in horror. What was Slim suggesting that he do? He could no more shoot Slim than kill his own sister. Once more he tried to get Slim to move with him. He grabbed at the blonde’s arm and dragged him towards the door. Isaiah forced Slim to allow himself to be pulled along.
Reaching the door Jess pulled frantically on the handle, aware that earlier the door had refused to open. The handle turned with ease and the door swung open. Cold air hit Jess’ body as he turned to Slim and with one last look back at the two figures of Daisy and Mike, he pulled Slim through after him.
Intending to find the quickest route to cover and away from this nightmare, Jess turned to look around, and found himself standing, back to the door, looking into the nightmarishly familiar living room of the house from hell. Daisy and Mike stood exactly where he had left them as he had fled, with Slim in tow, through the front door.
“It’s too late, Jess. I tried to tell you. I’m sorry. I—“Slim’s voice petered out, his blue eyes clouded and the flickering flames grew within them until they burned bright again. “It is too late, Jess. Slim was quite correct. If you had shot me, when I let Slim take control again, then you may have escaped. But now you are sealed within this world of my creating, and your soul is forfeit.”
What little hold Jess had managed to retain on reality fell away. He felt as though he was being smothered in a cold darkness. Tremors threatened to claim his body, as the icy fingers of death stroked his body. He had been so close. Slim had been there, and they had almost gotten away.
Once more that inner reserve of strength came to his rescue. If Slim had broken free from Isaiah’s control once, then he could do it again. Slim was still in there, if only Jess could find a way to release him again.
“Let him go, you bastard,” Jess steel edged voice demanded of Isaiah. To back his words, Jess again brought his gun up to point directly at Isaiah/Slim.
“It’s too late, Jess. Far too late.” Slim’s lips moved to Isaiah’s command. “And now I must insist you watch the rest of our play.”
Jess felt those unseen hands grasp his body again, holding him immobile and forcing his gun hand down. Isaiah turned away briefly to look at his companions. “Now just were where we in our little tale?” He didn’t wait for their reply, but continued on to answer himself. “Ah, yes. There is one other member of your special little family that is still with us, and it is only fitting we look at just how you feel about him and vice versa, of course.”
Unable to do anything to physically express his revulsion for the creatures now masquerading as his family, Jess had to content himself by focusing all his anger and hatred into one baleful glare that he cast at Isaiah. He wanted to let go, to simply let his mind fade away, but he could not, would not, give these creatures that satisfaction. So, instead, he held onto his anger and brandished it like a flaming shield in front of him. Little did he suspect that this was one of the emotions that fed the fiends.
“You think on Slim like the older brother you lost to that fire that took your family. Oh, I know that at first the two of you didn’t see eye to eye. Slim was far to law abiding and civilised for you and your wild free ways. It certainly will not surprise you to know that Slim had exactly the opposite view of you. He had a bother to raise and a ranch to run, he couldn’t run the risk of the disruption to his ordered life that a drifter like you would mean. And yet, he did offer you a job, and stood by you through the early difficulties you had when it came to putting down roots. Do you know why he did that Jess?” Isaiah sounded and looked for all the world like a farther teaching his errant son a lesson in life. In fact, he was portraying Slim in the older brother and mentor role he had often displayed to Jess when he had thought his younger friend was behaving a little to irresponsibly. Only the Hell fires flickering in the depths of his eyes denied the image he was portraying.
Jess felt the pain of loss stab through his heart as, unbidden; he recalled the many times Slim had brought him back into line with sound advice and the guiding hand of a good friend. Slim had always been able to see the good in Jess, and had repeatedly helped Jess himself to acknowledge the part of him that both wanted and needed a home and a family again.
“I can see by your eyes Jess that you remember how good he was to you. Oh, he didn’t always get it right. In those early days, his reluctance to see any harm in people he thought represented lawful society cost you both dearly. Your innocent friend was hung for murderer, because of Slims believe in the integrity of his friends. He almost got you hung to, when he helped that crooked sheriff take you back to face false charges.” Isaiah enjoyed the discomfort he could feel building in his victims, but his two companions were more aware of the passage of time.
“Hurry up, it must be complete before the witching hour,” Marsha spat out as Elisha vigorously nodded her agreement.
“There is plenty of time yet. Don’t worry. I just want to make sure Jess understands all the finer implications of Slims relationship to him,” came Isaiah’s silky reply.
“I understand, all right,” Jess voice carried a wealth of pain and hurt. “Slim’s a fine man. The best friend and partner a man could ever have. He wasn’t responsible for those things!”
“I do understand, really, I do. After all he did change as he grew to know you more. You definitely had an influence on him, Jess, although some may not think it was for the best. He helped you to defy the army and aide your brother-in-law to escape. That sat very heavy on his conscience, you know, going against all his good honest principles for your sake. Because of you he got into all sorts of trouble. Poor Slim, he tried so hard to life his life by the good book, he gave anyone a chance to prove themselves, trying so hard to see the good in people, even someone with a reputation like yours.”
Knuckles white with strain, Jess had a death grip on the gun in his hand. His shoulders strained as he struggled to break free of the invisible bonds that held him motionless and burned his flesh. Nothing mattered now but to kill the thing that called itself Isaiah
“Do it now, Isaiah,” commanded Elisha, “He is ripe for the picking, now.”
Twin sickly sweet smiles formed on Daisy and Mikes marred features, every fibre of their beings focused on the emotional feast that was about to be served up.
Isaiah partially released his control on Slim one last time.
Sensing there would be no second chance, Slim’s spirit leapt from its prison, “Run, Jess, run. They want your soul. Escape or you’ll be damned for eternity!”
Then Isaiah took control of Slims hands. Jess could see Slims spirit still burning bright in the now clear blue eyes. He saw the beads of sweat form on Slim’s brow as he struggled to prevent his own hands rising to his face. Then the hands covered Slim’s expressive blue eyes, and an agony filled scream filled the air, as the fingers, controlled by Isaiah, slowly and inexplicably clawed the eyes out of their sockets.
Jess almost blacked out, his world filled with kindly blue eyes, that swirled and changed to pools of blood. A claw raked his cheek and brought his mind back to the present.
Controlled by the beings around him, he was unable to shut his eyes or turn away as Isaiah offered up the third and final part of their entertainment. Jess looked, mute with shock, at two bloodied eyes that had once meant home and family to him.
“It is rather fitting, don’t you think, that Slim should represent ‘See no Evil’.” Isaiah looked at Jess from empty, bloodied holes, and yet, it seemed to Jess, the fires of hell still danced there.
“Nooooo!” Whether by the force of his own hatred driven will, or by Isaiah’s design, Jess found he could move again. On instinct alone, his gun hand came up and his finger squeezed the trigger reflexively. Six unerringly accurate shots slammed into Slims still beating heart, as Jess legs gave way and he crumpled to the ground, sobs shaking his body.
“The play is complete now, Jess. Slim is dead by your own hand, and by the act of murdering your best friend, you have given your still living self into our hands, body and soul.” Isaiah gloated, his plan now completed and his appetite about to be fully sated.
Jess looked up to see the three bodies of his dead friends crumple to the floor, discarded like broken toys. Blood red smoke rose from the bodies to coalesce into three solid shapes. Grotesque, misshapen bodies that had once been human advanced on Jess, unnaturally long teeth barred in grimace of hunger, dagger like claws raised ready to tear at his flesh and his soul.
Knowing now there was to be no escape for him, he was damned to Hell anyway, Jess pushed himself upright, determined to meet his fate head on, as he always had in life. There was no more time for regret or grieving for his lost family. They would take him, he knew that of a certainty, but he would make them pay. Their victory would cost them dearly.
They were on him then, biting, clawing and tearing, rending his flesh into bloodied strips. Jess fought bravely, lashing out at them, trying to inflict some lasting damage to make them pay for what they had done. His fist connected hard with Isaiah’s jaw, momentarily sending the Warlock backwards. The respite was brief, then Isaiah was on him once again, and Jess was falling back under their combined weight.
The solid wall behind him melted away and Jess fell, still fighting, downwards into the open maw of Hell itself, and into the hungry hands of its denizens, his soul damned for all eternity.
***********
Chapter Ten
He seemed to fall forever, his body wracked by pain from the damage inflicted by the ravenous fiends, seared by the fires of Hell that burned around them. His soul bled pain and remorse as grief and hatred vied for dominance in his heart. But most unbearable of all was the guilt.
The tiny part of his mind that was still clinging to the reality of his family and home, kept trying to tell him that the ideas the fiends had planted in his mind were false. But it was failing miserably and fading fast as Jess’ mind succumbed to the soul-destroying weight of guilt that had been heaped upon it.
His very presence in their lives had led Slim, Daisy and Mike to their ultimate doom. Jess was guilty of surviving the fire that had decimated his birth family. The life he had led afterwards, in his need to seek revenge, had cut a path of destruction through the lives of anyone that crossed his path. In his need to live life by his own unique code, he had disregarded the needs of others. All this, so insidiously planted in his mind by Isaiah and his Priestesses, ate away at him. No matter that it wasn’t true, that it was in fact an evilly twisted version of his life, the soul-destroying guilt was achieving its purpose, releasing emotions that fed the demons in the reality that was his world now.
In his inner eye Jess saw the faces of his families, old and new, surround him, their silent mouths open in accusation, their eyes burning as they stared at him condemning him for his part in their deaths.
“I’m sorry Mike. I–I didn’t know,” he sobbed out, his voice raspy. “F–forgive me, Daisy, I didn’t mean to make you lie.”
Slim’s face moved in closer, filling his field of vision, his mouth moving, uttering damning accusations that Jess’ could not hear. “God forgive me Slim,” he begged. “It would’ve been better if I had never been born! I—I’m sorry, Slim. Sorry, so sorry—”
Suddenly his head snapped backwards, startling him from the black mire of guilt that had almost swallowed him. There was a pressure on his shoulders, and he tried to move away. He was held, trapped unable to move his arms freely. He felt his head and shoulders being tossed around, shaken as if he were a rag doll in the hands of a frustrated child.
“Jess!! Jess? What the devil are you talking about,” a voice demanded to know.
Violent colours flashed across Jess’ vision, pain raged behind his eyes and tremors gripped his body as he struggled against the demonic restraints that had him trapped. And yet that insistent voice called to him, forcing him to focus through the pain and grief.
“Take it easy. Stop struggling and I’ll help you get free!” The voice carried a tone that demanded attention, a voice Jess was drawn to despite the painful memories of happier times it brought to the forefront of his mind. It carried a promise of comfort and offered safety.
‘I know that voice. I must get to it somehow.’ Jess’ senses started to come into focus and he struggled harder to reach the sanctuary offered by the familiar tones.
“Easy now. Calm down, you’re making it worse, goldurn it!” This time the voice held a hint of irritation.
Another voice, more uncertain and a lot younger jarred at his awakening mind. “What’s wrong with Jess, Slim? Is he alright?”
Suddenly Jess’ eyes snapped open and his eyes darted anxiously around him, as his befuddled mind sought to clarify just where in hell he was. ‘Hell! He’d been in Hell. The demons had murdered his family and claimed his soul’
A blurry face swam into Jess’ line of sight. He squinted hard at it, willing it to stop moving long enough for him to put a name to it. Obligingly it came into focus and Jess found himself staring into the concerned face of his best friend, Slim Sherman.
“S—Slim?” his voice sounded strange, choked, even to himself.
“At last.” Slim released his grip on Jess and stood back, taking with him the twisted sheet that had been wrapped around the struggling Jess, threatening to choke him. “Are you back with us for real this time Jess?”
“Huh? Slim, you—you’re alive?” Jess was staring hard at Slim, revelling in the caring emotion that played in the intact, emotive blue eyes. Eyes that he had last seen, torn and bloodied, in a demon’s hands.
“Well of course I am, Pard. Though you ought to know, the way your fist connected with my jaw a minute ago.” Slim rubbed ruefully at his bruised jaw.
Jess raised his fist and looked at his bruised knuckles, bewilderment written over his expressive features. “I did that?” he asked. He was still having trouble recognising he was in his own bed, in the room he shared with Slim. His consciousness was still divided between two realities.
“You sure did, Jess. Slim said you’ve been kind of restless all night, but you got really noisy right now, shouting and fighting with the bed clothes like they were your worst enemy” Mike’s young voice was high pitched with worry for his hero. He knew Slim had let Jess lie in since he had obviously had a bad night. But these last few minutes had scared the young boy. Jess had been really violent, shouting and screaming out some really strange things. Why, even Daisy had said that maybe Jess was concussed and Slim should ride for the Doctor.
The young voice instantly drew Jess’ attention, and he turned quickly towards it, causing the room to swim out of focus momentarily again. As the room settled, he found himself looking at a very concerned Mike. Hesitantly, Jess brought his hands up to clasp Mikes face between them, assuring himself that Mikes unmarred features were real. A slow smile spread across Jess’ pale face. “Mike? Hey, Tiger, how are you?”
Before Mike could answer, Slim interrupted, grasping Jess’ left arm and turning it towards him.
Jess, his survival instincts still in play, went to snatch his arm back, but Slim held it firmly. “Say, Jess, what have you been doing to yourself? Those are real nasty scratches.” Slim stared hard at his friend. “You must have done it while you were fighting those bed sheets. Say, “Slim reached forward and gently turned Jess’ face slightly to the side, “Looks like you caught your cheek too.”
Gingerly Jess touched his fingertips to his face, and they came away bloody. “I–I don’t k—”.
Ignoring him, Slim called for re-enforcements. “Daisy, I think maybe we could use some help in here. Best bring the first aid box, Jess has a few scratches that need tending.”
Jess was about to protest, but Daisy appeared as if by magic, at his side. She smiled gently down at him. “You had us worried Jess, I think that hit on the head did more damage than any of us thought. How are you feeling?” As she talked, she gently cleaned the scratches. “They don’t look too bad. They don’t need a dressing.”
At Daisy’s mention of his accident the previous night, other memories fell into place. He recalled the planned trip, and then he recalled the nightmare it had led them to.
“Slim, what day is it?” he asked, desperation in his voice.
“What?” That was the last question Slim had been expecting.
But Jess, persisted. “Humour me, Slim, what day is it?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Slim replied, “It’s Saturday, Jess.”
“No, Slim, I mean it. What DAY is it?” Jess insisted.
“Alright, don’t get yourself all riled up. It’s October the thirty first. Why?”
“Huh? Nothing, it ain’t important, Pard. Look, weren’t we supposed to be going on a tri-?”
Slim glanced at Daisy before replying, and she responded by a slight shake of her head. Turning back to Jess, Slim started to respond, “Look, Jess, about that trip, I don’t think–”
This time it was Jess’ turn to interrupt. “I don’t feel up to it. Do you mind if we leave it for another day?”
It was difficult to know who was the most taken aback by Jess’ response. Mike had been warned that the picnic and fishing trip was off. Both Daisy and Slim though had expected to have a fight on their hands when they broke the news to Jess. They certainly hadn’t expected that it would be Jess himself that called it off. For a second they were both left speechless.
Daisy was the first to recover. She placed her hand on Jess’ forehead, anxiously searching for any sign of a fever. “You don’t feel hot,” she muttered, verbalising her concerns, “But still? Slim, maybe you should go for the Doctor.”
Jess gave his best ‘little boy’ grin as he wriggled away from under her hand. “There’s no need for that. Can’t a guy simply admit to a headache, without you having him down with triple pneumonia?” He tried to sound annoyed, but after his recent experience, he was enjoying the security of having his family fuss over him.
“In your case, Jess, it’s darn near a miracle that you will admit to feeling off, let alone actually allow it to slow you down. That’s what’s worrying us,” Slim enjoined
Jess let the import of Slim’s words sink in before replying.” Maybe it is a little miraculous at that.” Then his face lit up with a heart-warming smile as he continued. “Let’s just say I have recently had a lesson in what’s important, and missing a day’s fishing comes pretty low on the list.”
Feeling a little uneasy at this suddenly emotionally charged conversation, Slim tried to lighten it a little.” Does that apply to the fried chicken Daisy had prepared for the picnic, to?”
“Hey, I didn’t say that. We can eat it for supper can’t we, Daisy?” Jess appealed, looking once more like a little boy denied his favourite treat.
“But Slim,” Mike said, without thinking, “You know Aunt Daisy has already said that we could have it at dinner, since the rain stopped our day out”
“Rain, it’s been raining?” Jess inquired. “Then we weren’t going any place no how. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I was about to, Jess, when you took the wind right out of my sails. It’s been storming all night.” Slim informed him. “One of the reasons we were getting worried about you was the fact that while the storm roused the rest of the house, you kept on sleeping right through it. You kept tossing and turning, shouting out some strange things, but you didn’t rouse, not even once.”
Jess opened his mouth to speak again, his mind flooded with the still very real memories of another storm that had led to terror, but before he could find the right words to voice his concerns, Daisy interrupted them all.
“Well now, since it seems you are all right, apart from a bad headache, perhaps I can tempt you all to some breakfast. Slim, I’ll put yours and Mike’s on the table. Jess, you stay put in bed. I will fix you a tray.” Noticing Jess’ open mouth, she thought he was going to give her his usual argument and continued, “Jess, I will not give in on this. You have been in a bad way all night, and I think you need to rest properly. Do you feel like eating?” she asked, still somewhat concerned for her middle ‘son’
Once more, surprising everyone by giving in without an argument, Jess nodded. “That will be just fine, Daisy. Come to think of it, I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Now that sounds like the Jess we know and love,” Slim laughed.
Moving away, Daisy called Mike to follow her. “Well come on now, young man, I think you can help me by setting the table. Oh, and have you washed those hands?”
“Aww, Aunt Daisy, I’ve washed them so often that pretty soon they’re gonna be washed away,” the young boy protested, but stood up and followed her dutifully none the less.
“Guess you’re learning not to argue with Daisy, huh, Tiger?” Jess said as he gave Slim a knowing look.
“I know that already, Jess. I’ve been watching you and Slim. You both argue with Aunt Daisy, and you never win anyway, and you always end up with more chores to do than what she asked you to do in the first place.” Mike skipped away to dodge ahead of a laughing Daisy.
“I think we’ve just been insulted, Pard,” Slim laughed, then his laughter stopped as he saw the forlorn look that momentarily crossed Jess face.
Without warning, the pain of the loss and guilt Jess had felt during the strange night hours, had come back to haunt him. “Daisy, thank you,” Jess called out suddenly.
Daisy stopped in the doorway and turned to face Jess, unsure as to what he was thanking her for. “Well, you’re welcome, Jess, but I haven’t brought your breakfast yet. That is what you meant isn’t it?” she asked, puzzled by his odd behaviour.
Embarrassed, Jess hesitated before continuing, “Well, yes. I mean, no, not exactly.” Then, biting the bullet, he plunged on. “I mean, really Thank You, for everything.”
Puzzlement was quickly replaced by the soft glow of love. “Oh, Jess. You are welcome. Surely you know how much you all mean to me. You are my family and I would die to protect you all.”
Those words hit home hard to Jess. “Don’t say that, Daisy.”
“Why not. It’s true. You would do the same for any of us. That’s what real families willingly do for each other. You would do, in fact have done, as much for us.” Then Daisy gave him a final loving smile and followed Mike into the kitchen. She wanted to know more from Jess about why he was acting so strangely, and suspected it was due to the bad night he had apparently had. But she also knew Jess, and had learned early on that he was a deeply private person. He would tell her only when he felt ready to, if ever.
Jess watched Daisy’s retreating back and thought about what she had just said. Suddenly Jess felt as if a great weight was lifted from his heart. Daisy was right. They were family, and when they took risks and made sacrifices for each other, it was done with love. It would be terrible if Daisy, Mike or Slim felt guilty every time one of them made a sacrifice to ensure the others were safe. He would hate to think that, just as they would hate to think that was how he felt.
Those fiends that had peopled his dream world had been right about one thing. He had been feeling guilty, albeit unknowingly, and in the context of his family it was a useless, wasted emotion. An emotion he was determined he would no longer allow to govern how he felt about his new family. Jess was finally able to put down the burden of guilt he had carried since the death of his true family all those years ago and move beyond its boundaries. Family and friends meant accepting that sometimes-bad things happened and it was not your fault. It meant being able to express how you felt and put aside guilt about actions taken in their defence when there was no other choice.
“Jess? Hey, Pard. is there anyone home?” Slim’s amused voice interrupted Jess’ reverie as Slim tapped Jess’ shoulder.
“Huh?” Jess looked up, momentarily lost in his thoughts. “Oh, sorry Slim. What were you saying?”
“I thought you’d drifted off again. Look, Jess, the storm was really bad last night, and the weather ain’t fit for anyone to be out in today. I think we’ll have that day off anyway, but it’ll have to be indoors. You take it easy and get a bit more sleep. The way you were tossing and turning you didn’t get much rest. You where cussing and fighting with that blanket like the devil was after you.” Slim’s voice held genuine concern for his best friend.
For one brief second, Jess felt a chill grip his body, and he was back in the nightmare that had been his world just a few minutes ago. He blinked rapidly and pushed back the dark thoughts as he focused on Slim’s gentle smile. “I reckon you could say he was, but not anymore. All right, Slim, but I ain’t staying in bed all day.” Jess’ body felt like he really had spent the night in a life and death struggle, and a few hours of proper sleep sounded mighty tempting right now.
Slim was still having trouble adjusting to this new, compliant Jess, but he wasn’t about to risk him having a change of heart. He stood up and moved away. Just before he shut the door behind him, he turned to see Jess snuggling back down beneath the blankets. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of work to be done when the weather improves. I’ll be sure to save you your share. For a start you can help me clear that old tree out back by the barn. It almost scared the horses into a stampede last night when lightening hit it and set it on fire. It put on a show bright enough wake the dead, but darned if you didn’t sleep right through it.”
When the normal quick-witted response was not forth coming from Jess, Slim looked more closely at him, and was pleased to see his Pard was already asleep. This time Jess had a peaceful smile on his face as his subconscious mind drifted into dreams of family picnics and fishing with not a demon in sight.
***The End***
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