Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western (12 page)

"Come on, you lazy dogs, we need to go. We're burning daylight." Jed's voice echoed off the surrounding hills. The horses were tied up in front of the porch and he grabbed Saddle's reins and swung himself up with practiced ease.

Jeremiah slammed the door open and clomped down the steps toward Nellie. Jasper followed more slowly, buckling his belt as he walked.

"Quit yer moanin', Jas. It's just a test run." Jeremiah clapped him on the shoulder before he hopped up on his horse.

"Yeah..." Jasper wanted to protest Jed's new plan, but his oldest brother was glaring at him with that look that would melt gold. He bit his tongue and climbed onto Dynamite.

The trio rode out of the little valley, heading in the direction of Lonesome Ridge. A stony silence settled over Jed and Jasper, but Jeremiah was heedless of their sour moods. He jabbered away as the horses plodded along, regaling them with stories of his latest adventures in the saloon.

"So, I says to Cora, I says--"

A figure stepped out from the woods on the side of the path they followed. Jeremiah stopped midsentence as Jed pulled up beside him. It was a woman with long, flowing black hair. She stood in the very middle of the thin dirt road, blocking their way around.

"Who is that?" Jed glanced sideways at Jeremiah. Jeremiah was leaning on the saddle horn as he eyed the woman.

"Dunno. Looks like some injun." Jeremiah placed a hand on the pistol at his side as he glanced at the hills around them. "I don't see no more, but they sneaky. Don't trust her."

She remained motionless in front of them with her hands clenched in fists at her sides. Her head was angled down, so that her long hair hid her face from view. Her hide dress was ragged and dirty, covered with unidentifiable brown stains, and her lower legs were crisscrossed with wounds.

Jed pushed his horse forward a few steps until he was several feet away from the woman. He yanked his gun from its holster and pointed it at her. "Hey, you. Yer in our way. You gonna move anytime soon?"

The woman didn't flinch.

"You," he said, waving his gun in Jeremiah's direction. "Go see what she wants."

Jeremiah looked at him and snorted. "Hell no. She's crazy lookin'. You do it."

Jed grunted. "Jasper, go," he said as he waved his pistol toward the woman.

Jeremiah glanced at Jasper, then back to the woman. He gave an exaggerated sigh and swung his leg over his horse. "I'll do it," he said even as Jasper began to rise from his saddle.

Jed shot him a glare and his eyes darted suspiciously between the two men, but he kept his mouth shut.

Jeremiah jumped to the ground and readjusted his belt. "Hey, you all right?" he called across the open space between them.

No response.

Jed sighed. "Go up to her, ya idjit. Maybe she's deaf."

Jeremiah held up his hands. "Aright, aright. I'm goin'." He hesitated next to his horse, messing with a strap on his pack until Jed cleared his throat. Jeremiah frowned and grunted, then he squared his shoulders and walked slowly toward the girl. She still wasn't moving and an uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Somethin' ain't right here," he grumbled under his breath as his hand found his weapon. He rested his fingers on the grip and they itched to draw it. But he was afraid to spook her and kept his instincts in check.

He was just a couple feet away from her when the wind shifted and blew her hair away from her face.

"Holy shit!" He stepped back, appalled at the sight in front of him, but his boot caught on a rock and he landed hard on his behind. His heart pounded in his throat as he stared at the girl.

Her brown skin had an ashen tone to it. Her face was dull gray and splotchy. But what drew his attention, what set his heart racing and threw his stomach into fits, was the large chunk of flesh missing from her chest, just below her neck where her dress formed a vee. The muscles visible in the gap were gray and rotten. The stench of death wafted over him in the light breeze and sent his gag reflex into overdrive.

She raised her eyes to him. Her appearance activated his flight instinct, but what he saw behind those eyes made him freeze in his tracks. They were the eyes of the most dangerous predator, deep and hungry. She didn't see him. She saw food, she saw fun. Her lips pulled back into a snarling grin as she looked him over. His body began to shake. He felt his joints grow weak. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice screamed at him to run, but he couldn't force his limbs to work. He just stared at her, locked in her trance. Until she moved.

She darted toward him like a cat going after a mouse. He shouted and tried to scramble back, but she reached him before he could get to his feet. Jed and Jasper shouted behind him, but he couldn't understand their words. She was on him, tearing at him, snarling and spitting like a rabid coyote. He threw up his arm to protect himself and her teeth sank into his wrist.

"Shoot her!" He screamed at his brothers even as he kicked at the woman on top of him. His foot connected with her knee. Her heard a crack and she screamed as she rolled off of him. Shots echoed out. He tumbled away from her, scrambling in the opposite direction she did.

He climbed to his feet and grabbed for his pistol. She was already up and spun to face him. She stared at him for the briefest second as he pointed the gun in her face. Then she screamed again, a loud, high animal cry. She ran. He fired. The woman jerked twice as his bullets hit their mark, but she did not fall. She disappeared into the woods.

"Should we follow her?" Jasper was standing up in his saddle, ready to jump to the ground. His horse danced beneath him.

"No, stay there!" Jeremiah held a hand up to stop his brother as they watched her go. He staggered to his horse and leaned against it. "Did you hit her?"

Jed grunted. "At least once. And Jasper hit her, too. She should have been a bloody mess."

Jeremiah looked at his brothers. They were both pale and their gun hands were shaking. He tucked his pistol back into its holster and stuck his foot into the stirrup. It took him three tries to get into his saddle.

"You all right?" Jed was looking at his arm.

Jeremiah glanced down. Blood was dripping onto his horse. "Shit." He ripped a piece from his shirt and wrapped it around the wound. "Dumb bitch." He flexed his fingers. "I dunno. I think she broke somethin'."

"Maybe we should head into town and see the doc."

Jeremiah shook his head. "I'm fine. I just need a stiff drink."

Jed kicked his horse. It huffed and moved forward slowly, still shaken from the encounter. "Let's hit the saloon. We'll have Cora look at it."

Jeremiah glanced into the woods. He thought he glimpsed a flash of brown between two trees, but it disappeared the next moment and he didn't see it again. A shiver ran up his spine. He shook his head to clear it and spurred his horse into gear, trying to put the crazy woman out of his mind.

Half an hour after they left the ranch, Charity regretted letting them eat all the horses. She plodded along behind the group with David on one side and Walton on the other. It was the most she had walked in months and she had no interest in continuing. She narrowed her eyes at the men and women in front of her. They shuffled forward without much thought for what they were doing, just going in the direction she told them to.

With a huff, Charity stopped walking and crossed her arms. David kept moving forward, heedless of her predicament, but Walton turned around and joined her. She smiled inside. Little Bear had trained him well.

"My queen?" Walton held his hat in his hands and fretted in front of her.

Charity pressed her lips together in a tight line and thought for a moment. She looked at the trees around them. "Walton," she said. "I'm tired of walking. Build me a throne and have the strongest carry me."

A strange expression flickered across Walton's face and he hesitated for a moment. But then he nodded and walked away. He stopped David and sent him back to sit by Charity. She plopped down on the ground and frowned at her husband.

"You're very boring, you know. You're not at all the man I married."

David stared straight ahead. He didn't react to her in any way.

She continued to study him. "No, that's not right. Maybe you are exactly the man I married. I just didn't know who I was marrying. I think your mother was right." The words were bile in her mouth and she forced herself to stop talking.

They sat in silence until Walton returned a bit later with several of the other men and women in tow. They were all carrying armfuls of branches and twigs. They dumped them on the road in front of Charity and set to work.

She watched them with interest at first, but as the sky started to lighten from bluish black to cerulean, she began to fret. The sun was not kind to them and Dixonville was still several hours away. She stood and walked over to Walton.

"How much longer is this going to take? Is it really that difficult to build a chair?" She popped her hips to the side and slapped her hands onto them. The anger that had been building over the last six months found its way to the forefront and her annoyance showed on her face.

Walton bowed his head. "Soon, my queen. Soon. I'm doing my best, but the others..."

Charity made an irritated noise in the back of her throat. "Are they all really so stupid?" she snapped.

Walton bowed his head again. "No, my queen, not always. There were others, smarter. Little Bear killed them."

She scoffed. "He told me. I don't get it. Why would he do something so stupid?"

Walton just shrugged.

Charity rolled her eyes and walked away toward the east. She stared at the horizon where the dark blue was growing lighter. Why would Little Bear kill anyone who showed signs of intelligence? But more importantly, why would he let her live? Her lips puckered to the side in a grimace of confusion. And what else did he not tell her? She suddenly felt less than sure about her decision to remove him and take the world on by herself. She sank down beneath a tree to ponder.

The sky was turning pink by the time the men finished the chair. Charity climbed onto the contraption and sat down. It wobbled as they picked it up, but it held together. Walton had layered branches full of soft leaves onto the seat and it was more comfortable than she expected.

"Go," she called to the men beneath her. Their shuffling gait caused the throne to tip and she almost fell off. "Watch it, you morons!"

It took another hour and a lot of instruction from Walton before they managed to carry her without dumping her onto the ground, but by then the sun was peeking above the horizon. It licked Charity's skin like flames from a hot fire and small cracks began to form along her arms.

She growled and stomped her foot on the platform. "Put me down." They started to lower her to the ground. "No, wait. Carry me to those trees." She pointed to a thick copse of trees off the road. "We'll stay there until sunset."

As they carried her to shelter, she let her anger bubble over and berated them for being bumbling idiots who couldn't accomplish a simple task. Not one of them spoke against her and in the end, she decided it only made her angrier. She settled into brooding silence and let them finish their task.

They found a cool spot under a tight cluster of trees that provided plenty of shade for the whole group. Very little sound found its way through and the ground was blanketed in thick ferns. Charity took off her boots and wiggled her toes in the soft foliage.

"Walton, line my throne with these. And the platform."

He bowed in acknowledgment and began plucking the soft ferns from the ground.

"Also, make me a canopy. I want to be completely blocked from the sun and rain."

He glanced up at her from his hands and knees, then he climbed to his feet. He bowed again and went to the group of men and women.

Charity watched them. It bothered her that they just stood there under the trees doing nothing until someone gave them clear instructions. She was quite sure that if she wasn't around to command them, they would stand there until they died.

"Stupid people," she muttered as she settled under a tree in a thick bed of ferns. She stretched out and watched the men work on her makeshift carriage.

She was staring into the space between sleep and wakefulness when a branch snapped off to the left. Her head jerked in that direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that all the others did, too. A large buck stepped out of the space between two trees. He had a clump of ferns hanging out of his mouth and he munched noisily until he caught sight of the intruders. His body froze, but his eyes darted around the small clearing.

Charity's nostrils flared. She could smell the blood pounding through his veins, she could taste his fear on her tongue.

With a snort, the buck spun on his hooves and bolted back into the trees. The men took off after him, some snarling and spitting, some completely silent and intent on the prey in front of them. Charity sprang to her feet and took two steps before she forced herself to stop.

"What are you, an animal?" she asked herself. Contempt dripped from her tongue at her behavior.

She listened with both longing and disgust to the chase through the trees. It didn't last long. The deer was large and fast, but there were a lot of hungry beasts after it. Its dying screams echoed through the woods. Charity rolled her eyes when David stumbled back into the clearing with blood on his face. He was still chewing what little meat he could grab before the deer was devoured. The others soon followed.

"Animals," Charity spat at them, but the hunger inside her regretted not going with them.

Some of the men did not return. The first handful to reach the deer had been rewarded with broken necks and smashed skulls. Charity shrugged. It didn't matter. There were still enough left to take over Dixonville, and once she had turned the town, she would head to Lonesome Ridge. Her army would grow and then she would set off to build her empire.

The sun was sinking toward the west when the canopy on her throne was finished. It was rough and ugly, but it kept out the sun. She sat back in the chair and made them take her out into the bright light to test it. It worked. None of the skin-scorching rays touched her. Charity smirked.

"Let's go. No more dawdling about."

The men and women who still huddled in the cover of the trees hesitated. Even Walton looked at her with trepidation instead of his usual benign obedience.

"The sun..." he mumbled as he waved his hand in the direction of the sky.

She pierced him with a glare. "What about it?"

He cowered and shook his head. "It's still hot. The skin," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"My skin will be just fine." She smiled at him. "And yours. You'll be up here with me." She scooted over and patted the seat beside her.

He hesitated, glancing at her and the men around her. Then he walked the short distance through the painful sun to climb aboard the contraption. From his safe seat, he ordered the group to move out. With a satisfied smirk on her face, Charity relaxed back onto her mobile throne.

The dark had settled in when they reached the outskirts of Dixonville. Charity called them to a halt and had them take shelter behind a ridge of boulders. She wanted to wait until the town was sleeping before she attacked. The men sagged down to the ground. Their energy was spent. Several of them had cracks along their arms and face, anywhere that wasn't clothed. They were lethargic and their skin was brittle and dry.

Charity hopped down from her throne to give them a pep talk. "In just a couple hours time, you will forget all about this. Your stomachs will be full and your bodies rejuvenated. You have been starving for too long, subsisting on animal meat and only the occasional treat. But don't worry. Now that Little Bear is gone, now that I am your queen, you will not want for anything. As long as you stay with me and do all I ask, I will see to it that you are fed the way you should be. You will not lower yourselves to chasing deer in the forest ever again. You will feast on flesh of the best kind. Tonight, you will feast with me."

She beamed at the men and women with expectation. As usual, they just stared back at her.

"Useless," she sighed and plopped herself down against a tree.

When the night was as black as it was going to get, Charity rose to her feet. "It's time."

The men rose and followed her down the road. She left her throne where it was. When they neared the first house, Charity stopped them.

"There is a woman, Stella. She is in the third house on the right. She is mine. No one else is to touch her, do you understand? No one. Now spread out. There is no need to stick to the edges of town. We are not hiding anymore. Attack everyone, but try not to kill them forever. Arms and legs, stomachs, shoulders. You can eat the children. We don't need them. Any questions?"

More silence.

"Go." Charity waited as they fanned out and headed toward the silent houses. Dixonville wasn't huge, maybe a hundred people, but it would be enough.

Walton stayed back near her, uncomfortable with abandoning his post. "Get. I'll be fine on my own. Enjoy yourself." She gave him a genuine smile as she waved toward one of the closer houses.

He bowed as a predator's sneer pulled at his lips, then he stalked toward the house.

Charity walked to the front porch of Stella's house and waited until she heard the screams start around her, then she stomped up the stairs. A light flickered on in an upstairs window. Charity smiled and raised her foot. The wooden door shattered as her heel connected with it. She tore what was left of it off its hinges and tossed it to the side. Her boots echoed ominously on the floors inside.

Shuffling footsteps and frantic whispers came from upstairs. With a sneer on her face, she followed them. As she reached the top, a blast rang out and she jerked to the side. A sharp pain tore through her shoulder, but it faded quickly. She glanced down at the gaping hole, then up into the wide eyes of a man holding a shaking shotgun pointed straight at her.

"You ripped my dress. I liked this dress." Her smile grew as confusion fluttered across his face. She didn't bother walking up the last two steps. Instead, she placed her hands on the railing and used her arms to throw herself toward the man. He collapsed beneath her like a rag doll. She gripped his throat and clamped down on his windpipe. He struggled, but he was no match for her. She sank her teeth into his shoulder just below his neck.

Two bare feet came into view around a doorway just as the man stopped moving. Charity tried to snarl, but her mouth was full. A large chunk of flesh came off when she jerked back. She spat it out and raised her head. Stella's eyes were wide and terrified. She clamped her hands to her mouth and took a step back. Charity rose and took a step toward her.

"Hello, Stella." The name tasted like bile on Charity's tongue. She hated the woman with a passion. Stella was the elected leader of the local woman's club. She had tried to recruit Charity several times, but all the while she looked down on Charity as if she were a worthless transplant. Charity would not be treated that way, not by anyone. Not anymore.

Stella whimpered. Charity grinned. "A little louder, if you please."

Stella's jaw dropped. For a brief second, she hesitated in the doorway and then she ran. She tried to reach the door on the other side of the stairs, but Charity darted out in front of her. She clamped her hand around Stella's throat and lifted her into the air. With a strength she didn't realize she possessed, Charity tossed her through the door. It shattered amid a myriad of moans.

Stella landed on the floor with a huff as her breath was forced from her lungs. She tried to climb to her feet, but her legs were tangled in her nightgown and she struggled to breathe.

Charity enjoyed the resounding echo of her heels on the wood as she crossed the floor to the bed. Two little boys were huddled together against the headboard. Twins. They whimpered as she reached them.

"No, please." Stella reached out toward her children.

Charity turned halfway and cocked her head. "Please? Please what?"

The woman coughed. "Please don't hurt my children."