Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western (16 page)

"Oh, Lord in heaven." Billy Teagan was never a man of God, but when Amos turned around, he found the old troublemaker on his knees with his hands folded. Norman Baker ran to the door and wretched outside.

Amos backed away and shut the door. Phyllis wasn't going anywhere. He wanted to check the rest of the barn before he figured out what to do with her. A faint glow lit up the barn at the far end.

"Billy, come on." Amos raised his weapon again and walked toward the light. "Paul, is that you?" he called as he neared the other side of the barn.

The only response he received was a low groan. He tried again. "McKee? You down there?"

The stalls ended near the door and made way for a small storage room. Amos crept to the side and peered around the last stall. The door to the room was half open, moving back and forth slightly. Small grunts came from inside. "Paul?"

He sidestepped toward the door. Booted feet were sticking out from behind it, jerking back and forth in random fashion. "Shit," Billy whispered behind him. He echoed the sentiment. Amos nudged the door with his foot. It didn't move, but the grunts stopped. He glanced back at Billy, who held his gun higher and nodded.

Amos stepped up to the door and placed his hand on it. He was about to shove it when a man, one he had never seen before, moved out from the shadows. The man snarled at him and lurched forward. Billy's gun went off behind him and he felt a seering pain in his back. He jerked to the side, just out of the reach of the dead man. Billy fired again and hit the man in the chest.

"The head," cried Amos. "Shoot him in the head!"

He leaned against the wall and pressed a hand to his stomach as he leveled his gun. He fired. A hole blossomed between the man's eyes and he dropped like a rock. Screams tore through the barn from the other end.

"Oh, God. Norman!" Billy glanced at Amos with wide, fearful eyes.

"Go!" Amos waved his gun in the direction of the other door. "I got this."

He wasn't sure if he had it or not, but Billy had shot him, and didn't even realize it. He didn't want the man's gun anywhere near him. He glanced up just in time to see another of the undead shambling around the door. It was a woman and her face was covered in blood. He leveled his gun at her and shot her through the left eye. She tumbled forward and landed in a heap on top of the man.

Blood coated his hand and his body felt like he was on fire, but he pushed himself away from the wall. Inside the small room, a lantern lay on its side, flickering in the dark. Two bodies were on the ground beside it. Paul Finch and Longtooth McKee.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He pressed his gun hand to his head and closed his eyes.

Billy's gun barked outside. Once. Twice. Then it was replaced with some of the most awful screams Amos had ever heard. He stumbled out of the room and leaned against the wall as he made his way toward the closest door. Outside, the screams were louder, vibrating through the air like terrible church bells.

He walked toward the screams, using the outside of the barn to support himself. When he reached the corner, he peered around. Billy's screams had stopped. His body lay on the ground next to Norman's. Neither of them put up a fight as two men chewed on their flesh.

The undead had their backs to Amos so he stepped out from his hiding area to survey his options. A body lay on the other side of the corral, Davey Anders. His brother Sebastian was nowhere to be seen. His horse danced on the hitching post, trying to break free. The others had already ripped their reins and were racing off into the wild.

The deputy's eyes darted from his horse to the men in front of him. He didn't think he'd be able to make it, but he sure as hell was going to try. He pushed away from the wall and staggered forward. His stomach was pouring blood and he left a trail behind him. It drew him unwanted attention.

A snarl alerted him to the creature. He glanced back as it pulled away from Billy's leg and started to rise. Amos threw his gun away and pressed both of his hands to his stomach. As he half shuffled, half ran, he whistled the special whistle he had always reserved for his beloved horse. She jerked her head toward him, and the motion unraveled the reins. She danced for a second, torn between running away or running toward the man she had devoted her life to.

Training won out over instinct and she sped toward him. He cried out as the pain in his abdomen multiplied as he moved toward her, but he didn't stop. He gripped the saddle and pulled himself up just as the man came within reach. She didn't need any prodding. Her hoof came out and connected with the creature as it lunged. It sailed through the air and crashed into the fence. Then the horse turned toward Lonesome Ridge and took off in an all-out gallop.

Amos pressed one arm to his stomach and the other clung to the horse's mane. He prayed he would make it to town before it was too late.

Summer Rain stared at the scrawny coyote who stood on the hill just below her. Its jaw was open and saliva dripped from its teeth as she tore another chunk of tender flesh from the still body in her hands. She chewed and he drooled, two beasts aware of their stations in life. She was the hunter, predator of the most dangerous prey. He was a scavenger, feeding on the weak and the dead. She had seen him before. He followed her trail and feasted on her leavings.

The young woman ran her tongue around the outside of her mouth to gather up the last drops of blood before she tossed the small carcass down the hill. The coyote snarled and jumped back. For the briefest of moments, he readied an attack, his back hunched and his fur bristled, his deadly gaze locked on Summer Rain. Then he turned his attention to the still warm flesh nearby. With a savagery Summer Rain could appreciate, he leapt at the body and sank his sharp teeth into it with fervor.

Summer Rain watched him for a few minutes before she looked up at the sky. The sun was coming over the horizon and it was already growing too warm for her tastes. She stood up and wandered away from the coyote toward a thick clump of bushes at the base of the hill. Dropping to her hands and knees, she pushed aside the biting branches and crawled into the dark interior.

This was a familiar routine to her. It had been a long time since she had taken shelter inside a building or tent. The wilderness was her home. It was where she belonged. She was a predator, a killer. Her sole goal in life was to wreak havoc on those around her. Especially the white men.

A snarl escaped her lips as she thought of the vile beasts who had destroyed her family. She wanted nothing more than to make them pay, all of them. Every last pale skinned monstrosity deserved to rot in the sun, or to suffer like she had.

Little Bear had wanted that at first, too. Together, they tracked down the soldiers who destroyed their village. They found them in a clearing not too far from another village. It was a band of some of the most ruthless white men the earth could create: former soldiers, outlaws, men of general ill repute. Summer Rain would have found the camp appalling if she had not been changed. Bodies of men hung from poles in the middle of the camp, guilty of some crime or another against the man who called himself the leader. The women in the camp were no better than the men. They were whores who threw themselves on the men at every opportunity, or worse, slaves who had no choice in the matter.

Summer Rain and Little Bear made the wicked men and women pay for their misdeeds. They sent them to their own hell as screams tore from their bloody lips. It was a glorious, joyful day when the parched earth drank up the blood of their victims. Summer Rain had never felt so alive, so completely and utterly at peace with herself and the way of the world. As she ripped through bodies and chased down anyone who tried to run, she knew she had found her place in the world. She was happy at last.

But once that was over, once the men who took her previous life from her were gone, it all changed. She shared her dream with Little Bear, a dream to take back their lands from the white man and create a new world. The look of pure horror on his face was forever etched in her withering heart. She was glad he did not have eyes. She could not bear to think what would have been in them.

She stayed with him for a long time after that, more out of habit and a strange sense of loyalty to the past than anything else. Her initial guilt at his reaction to her plan overshadowed the truth of what they were, she knew. She let it keep her pinned to him, to his unfathomable desire to hide from the world. As they wandered the lands, they turned others like them, but Little Bear's fear kept him from seeing their true potential. Any who turned with more than a modicum of intelligence were immediately destroyed. Little Bear carried a strength greater than all of them and they were no match for him. He only kept those mindless creatures who had little or no memory of their past, who had little desire to achieve anything but their next meal.

He preferred those like Walton, a former soldier who had run away from his army out of fear. Summer Rain hated the man the moment she met him. He was weak, even before he was turned. He was sniveling and scared of everything. The only good thing about him was that he was an interpreter, able to speak their language. She hated the white man's tongue and it hurt her throat to speak it.

"Weakling," she muttered. She wasn't sure if she was talking about Little Bear or Walton. Or herself, for allowing herself to be ruled by them for so long.

She slapped a branch and hissed when it moved aside to let the sun burn her eyes. She rolled over and lay her head on the soft grass.

She thought of the man she had encountered earlier in the day, the cowboy she bit. Jeremiah, they had called him. He was stupid, like the rest. All she ever had to do was stand in the middle of the road and wait for them to come to her. They always did. It was a game she played. The more men in the party, the more dangerous the game, and the more enjoyable. Usually she could take them all out fairly easily. They were fooled by her small stature, by the fact that she was a woman. They underestimated her and it often led to their violent, bloody end.

Occasionally they got away, but never unscathed. She would track them and take them down when she could, but if she was truly outmatched, she would follow until she could separate them, or leave to roam the wilds forever. She was sure there were more like her wandering the plains, searching for food. On occasion, she would be sure to bite them at the very least. Once in a great while she would encounter one of those she had turned. They were often wandering lost and alone, confused, driven only by their hunger. She would attack them with vigor. They were always more of a challenge than the mere men were and it was a much better fight. There were times she was sure she was going to lose, but she always got the upper hand and took them down in the end.

She contemplated not killing them, from time to time. She was lonely and longed for companionship. But in the end, her predatory nature took over. None of those she met was worthy of being her equal and she simply could not abide that. No, she would not allow herself to fall into that trap again.

Summer Rain sighed again and waited for the sun to go down. As soon as the painful rays dropped below the horizon, she crawled out from underneath the bushes and began walking in the direction opposite Lonesome Ridge. It was the same direction the two men had taken when they left town on their horses. She half hoped she could find them, if only to see the one turn on his brother.

She wandered along the hillside, keeping the road below in sight. She spotted the dust cloud long before the group that made it became visible. Crouching beside a large pine, she stared at the figures. They shuffled along at a slow, but steady pace. It didn't take her long to realize they were all like her. All of them had been turned.

Several of the men were hooked up like horses and pulled a carriage along behind them. She gasped and her hand went to her mouth before she could stop it. A strange sensation floated in her belly. Hope.

"Little Bear?" she whispered, but even as she spoke, the feeling faded. It couldn't be him, she knew. He would never travel along a main road. It was too risky and he was scared and weak. She berated herself for even thinking about him.

Her curiosity grew as she watched the band of creatures shamble by. The carriage was curtained and she could not see inside. Her interest was piqued and she followed the group for a long time. As they rounded a corner in the road, one of the carriage's wheels lodged in a deep rut and someone inside called a halt. She watched as a man descended the steps, a man she could never mistake for anyone else. A man she hated. Summer Rain crept closer. She narrowed her eyes and peered down the hill. The hopeful little quiver returned.

"Walton." If it was the soldier, Little Bear's closest confidant, then Little Bear must be nearby. Walton would never leave his master's side.

She used boulders and trees for cover as she darted down the side of the hill toward the caravan. Most of the men and women wandered off into the woods, likely looking for food. She crouched under a bush as several of them shambled by, completely unaware of her existence. She sneered at their stupidity. If she were in charge, those would have been the creatures to be put down, not the intelligent ones.

She waited in the bush until the only sounds she could hear were the grunting and groaning of those trying to free the wheel, then she left her hiding spot and crept up to the carriage. Walton was on the other side giving direction to the others in his monotonous, dull tone. She always hated that voice. It grated on her nerves and she resisted the urge to attack him. As she rounded one wheel, one of the men trying to free the carriage caught her eye. She tensed and waited for him to call her out, but he just turned away as if she didn't exist and went back to trying to lift the carriage.

She padded up to the other door and pulled it open a crack. A blond woman sat inside, peering out the opposite window at the men working. Every now and then, she called out alternating threats and encouragement, but she refused to get out of the carriage to lighten the load or help.

Summer Rain's nose curled. What was a white woman doing with Walton? And where was Little Bear? Perplexed, she sneaked back to the hill and hunkered down to wait and watch.

The others returned and still more fussed with the wagon. They finally jerked the wheel free, but in the process, a piece of it broke, rendering it useless. The harsh shouts of the angry woman echoed off the hills and rolled over the men and women. And then the woman exited the carriage. She stormed away from the scene and left Walton and the others to fix it.

Summer Rain hesitated only a moment before following the woman into the woods. It was a stroke of luck she had not expected and she acted solely on instinct. She waited until they were truly alone before she stepped out from behind a tree.

The woman jumped back a step when she saw Summer Rain standing before her, but she recovered quickly and straightened her shoulders. When she spoke, her voice was hard and accusatory. She spoke quickly and it took Summer Rain several seconds to translate the words into her own language.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Summer Rain took a step forward. The woman stood her ground. "Little Bear?" Summer Rain's voice was rough and gravelly. She was unused to speaking and it was uncomfortable to make her mouth form the white man's words.

The other woman laughed. "Little Bear?" She said a lot that Summer Rain could not understand, but there was one word she caught. Dead. The look of triumph on the other woman's face confirmed it.

A sudden and unexpected fury boiled up in Summer Rain's chest. It overwhelmed the sadness that tried to grow and blocked out any other thoughts. With a blood-curdling howl, Summer Rain threw herself at the woman. Her hands were out and her fingers were curved like talons. She tackled the woman to the ground, hissing and spitting like a cat in pain.

For a stunned moment, the other woman lay there taking the brunt of Summer Rain's attack, then she lifted a foot and kicked the dark-haired woman in the gut. The kick was powerful and sent Summer Rain flying into a tree. Her back cracked against the trunk and she grunted as she sank to her knees.

But she refused to stay down long and pushed herself back to her feet. The woman was coming at her and she barely had time to get her hands up. They ripped at each other with hands and teeth, snarling and growling. It was an evenly matched battle and while they both took a lot of damage, they gave as good as they got.

"Stop! Summer Rain, stop!" Walton broke through the trees, shouting at them both. It was the most passionate Summer Rain had ever heard him be. She shoved the woman back away from her and stood panting, but ready to go again if the woman tried to attack her.

She watched as Walton talked to the other woman. Then he approached her.

"Summer Rain," he said. "This is Charity. Little Bear turned her after you left. She is our new queen."

Summer Rain bristled again at the thought of Little Bear having a queen besides her. She hissed at the woman, but Walton continued. "She is like you. She is smart and strong. She wants to build a... What is it called?"

"An empire." The other woman took a step toward them as she eyed Summer Rain.

"An empire?" Summer Rain tested the odd word and then repeated it again in her own language when Walton explained.

"She no longer wants to hide?" Summer Rain asked Walton.

He shook his head. "She wants to build an army, to take over the West. She wants to be feared, to make men cower before her."

Summer Rain pressed her lips together. "Little Bear?"

Walton hesitated. "He is dead. He did not want it."

The anger threatened again, but Summer Rain forced it down. She had wanted him dead, after all. She had wanted to do it herself, but it was too late to change that.

"Where are you going?"

"Lonesome Ridge," he said as he waved a hand in the direction of the town she had just come from.

Summer Rain bit back a smile. What would they find there, she wondered. A town full of the dead? Or the undead?

Charity took another step, bringing her within arms' reach of Summer Rain. "Come with us," she said. "Join us."

Summer Rain glared at her, but her mind was made up. She nodded once and walked to the carriage.