New Title 1 (3 page)

“
Do you need help to your room?” he asked.

“
Depends,” she answered with a lewd grin. “How much you paying?”

Unsure of what to do, Louis left her to fend for herself. A much more sober and sane looking young woman awaited him when he reached the bar. She was busy, attempting to clean up the mess of the night, and did not see his approach. “Excuse me,” he began, “I was wondering if I might purchase some dinner?”

She looked up from scrubbing the counter with a bright smile. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Louis offered a weak grin. “Am I that obvious?”

“
Like a sore thumb,” she answered. “About that dinner, I ain’t got much. Maybe some hard biscuits and cold gravy in the back.”

“
I’ll take it,” Louis exclaimed and eagerly fished a roll of bills from his pocket to pay her as she disappeared and returned with a plate of cold food. She saw the money in his hand. “Don’t fret about paying for it. It’s just left over from my pa’s supper. You just take it, now.”

“
Thank you.” Louis bowed his head in gratitude and took the plate.

“
What’s your name, mister?” she called after him as he started for the stairs.

“
Louis Farmer.”

“
You staying a while?”

“
Sadly, yes,” he confirmed.

“
See ya tomorrow then,” she said, vanishing into the rear of the bar without so much as a second glance over her shoulder.

A plate of food in his hands, Louis walked back up the saloon stairwell to his room. He was surprised to find he was looking forward to seeing the cook of his simple meal again.

Five

A s the sun rose over Reaper’s Valley, Nathan came awake with a start. Pastor Gregory, who’d been on his way to check in on him, found himself staring into the barrel of an angry Colt .45. “Whoa!” the pastor shouted, showing his empty hands.

Nathan lowered the gun. “Sorry.”

Pastor Gregory shrugged. “I suppose if I lived the life I suspect you do, I would be on edge, too. “

Nathan holstered his Colt and sat up. His coat and shirt were gone. In their place was a large wrap of bandages about his upper stomach. Nathan began to unwind them.

“
Changing those is a good idea,” Pastor Gregory commented. “That’s a fairly nasty wound. We don’t want it getting infected. Let me help you wash it.”

“
Don’t bother,” Nathan told him. The pastor stopped dead in his tracks as Nathan tossed the red-stained rags aside. There was no trace of the gaping wound from the night before. Pastor Gregory’s mouth hung open in awe of the miracle he’d just stood witness to. “H-h-how?” he stuttered.

“
I’m a fast healer,” Nathan said without further explanation.

“
I’ll say,” Pastor Gregory agreed, giving Nathan an odd look.

“
Where are my clothes?” Nathan asked. “I don’t have much time.”

“
You’re going?”

“
I’m very grateful for your help,” Nathan assured him, “but there’s someone I have to find quickly. I’m sure you have a slew of questions, but I can’t answer them. Now, where are my clothes?” Nathan repeated.

“
I tried to clean and mend them as well as I could while you slept. I guess the Lord knew you’d be needing them a lot sooner than I expected. They’re hanging on the line behind the church, beside the creek.” Pastor Gregory blocked Nathan’s path as he started for the door. “Will you answer one question for me, Nathan?”

Nathan gave him a warning glare but nodded.

“
Who are you?”

Nathan smiled. “I am a servant of God, just like you, Father.” He gently pushed Pastor Gregory aside and walked into the rays of the morning sun.

“
Wait!” Pastor Gregory cried after him. “If you’re in such a hurry, you shouldn’t try to go it on foot. Take my horse. He’s not fast or young, but he’s around back, too. He’s yours if you want him.”

“
May the Lord bless you and keep you, Father,” Nathan said sincerely and left the pastor staring after him as he rode away towards Reaper’s Valley. Gregory shook his head, wondering if the poor boy ever figured out he wasn’t Catholic.

Six

Louis rose early. The saloon was empty, except for the owner. Pete didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence as he walked past the bar on his way to the street.

Louis decided his day should start with a proper breakfast, paid for with the money he was given for his travel expenses. The sky was blue above him, without a cloud in sight. Something about the sun made him feel safe from the darkness he was searching for. His stroll through the streets of Reaper’s Valley led him to a dining establishment that was as respectable as he supposed he would find in the west. Truth be told, he was rather impressed as he lingered in front of its main window and peered in at its well set tables.

Mr. O’Rouke, whom Louis supposed he should call sheriff now, was seated at one of the tables, shoveling heaping spoons of egg and sausage into his mouth. Louis started for the door, but stopped as he spotted a rider galloping into town. A wave of excitement and fear wash over him. The rider wore all black and was clearly in a hurry.

“
Could it really be him?” Louis whispered. There were only a few people in the street, as it was still early. The rider brought his horse to a halt only a few feet from where Louis stood. He looked down at Louis from his position in the saddle.

“
Where is the sheriff?” the rider in black demanded.

Louis blinked. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. The man he’d traveled so far to find had just found him. The editor’s hand slid into his pocket, gripping the tiny pistol hidden there. “You’re him, aren’t you?” Louis asked as the man shifted on his horse and brushed his long coat back to reveal a Colt revolver holstered on his hip.

“
I have no quarrel with you, but I will kill you where you stand if you try to use that gun you’re holding,” the black-clad stranger replied.

Louis went pale and released the Derringer from his sweaty palm, letting it drop back to the bottom of his pocket. “My name is Louis Farmer,” he blurted. “I’m a friend of the man who wrote the novel about you. I’ve come all the way from New York City to...”

The man cut him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t care. Do you know where the sheriff is or not?”

“
I’m right here, boy,” a voice boomed from the door of the restaurant. Both Louis and the man in black turned to see O’Rouke watching them with a bright, shiny new badge pinned to his jacket and a double barreled shotgun in his hands aimed at the rider. “What is it you want?”

The stranger hopped down from his saddle and landed gracefully on the street to face O’Rouke.

“
Take it slow,” O’Rouke warned him. “I don’t know you from a hole in the ground, son, but I can tell you’re trouble. Move again without me telling you to, and we’ll be fitting you for a wooden box. You take my meaning?”

“
This town is in danger,” the rider stated, ignoring the lawman’s threats. “There’s a man coming who will murder every man, woman and child in this valley, Sheriff. You can’t stop him alone—and neither can I.”

O’Rouke looked at Louis with disbelief, as if he could not belief the audacity of this man riding into his town and telling him what he could and couldn’t handle. The book editor shrugged, at an uncustomary loss for words.

The sheriff turned to the man in black again. “Are you some kind of crazy or something? Ain’t nobody killing anybody in this town now that it’s under my watch. I think you’d best put those pistols of yours on the ground, real slow like, boy, and come with me. I got a feeling we should have a serious talk together in private.”

“
You can call me Nathan,” the rider said with an eerie calm, considering there was a shotgun pointed at his chest.

“
Fine, Nathan.” O’Rouke mood was growing more foul by the second. “Put those guns on the ground and I’ll listen to whatever you got to say.”

“
No,” Nathan said.

“
What?” O’Rouke’s barked, his finger twitching on the trigger of the shotgun. Apparently, the big man wasn’t used to folks standing up to him.

“
You heard me, Sheriff,” Nathan said in a cold, flat voice.

Louis watched in horror as O’Rouke fired his weapon. Both barrels of the shotgun thundered, echoing through the empty street. With a skill unlike anything Louis had ever seen, Nathan sidestepped the shotgun’s blast, avoiding taking a bullet. His poor horse wasn’t as lucky. The shots hammered into its side as it rose up on its hind legs, making a terrible, painful whinny before fell over into the street.

Nathan threw himself at O’Rouke. With a chop of his hand, he sent the sheriff’s shotgun flying from his grasp. Nathan followed up with a blow using the flat of his palm to the underside of the sheriff’s chin. O’Rouke went reeling backwards, spitting teeth and blood. Nathan spun on the ball of his left foot, hitting the sheriff with a kick to the chest with his right that sent the lawman careening through the restaurant’s window to land with a crash on the wooden floor inside. Louis raced to the window for a better view after Nathan had darted through it, following O’Rouke inside. Nathan stood above the sheriff, looking down at him. The other diners were frozen in their seats, watching the scene unfold before them.

“
Don’t even think about trying for your pistol,” Nathan growled at O’Rouke as the sheriff tried to sit up. “I just want to talk, that’s all. But you’re not getting my guns.”

Louis could see O’Rouke wrestling with his pride. A stranger had just ridden into town and put him on his arse during his first day as sheriff, and worse, had done it in public, for all and sundry to see. Word of their fight and the lawman’s loss would spread like wildfire and tarnish O’Rouke’s reputation as a tough man.

Nathan leaned in and offered the sheriff a hand to help him to his feet. Grudgingly, O’Rouke accepted it. Nathan pulled the big man up. “Come on,” the sheriff grunted. “If we’re doing this, it’s going to be in private. No need to spook everybody with your crazy stories.”

Before they left the restaurant, O’Rouke put on a show, telling folks everything was fine and to go about their business as if nothing had happened. Nathan kept silent and let the lawman appease his constituents. Louis met them as they stepped back outside. “I’m coming with you,” the editor informed them. “I believe I know this man, Sheriff, and can tell you whether or not what he has to say is true.”

Nathan shot Louis a curious glance as O’Rouke snarled, “Do whatever you want. Don’t reckon’ having you along will hurt none.”

Seven

O ‘Rouke swiped at the blood on his lips with the back of his hand and collected his shotgun as he led them to Reaper’s Valley’s jail. The lawman took a seat behind his big, oak desk and set about pouring a shot of whiskey from a bottle he retrieved from his bottom desk drawer as he waited for Nathan to get on with his story. Louis took a seat across from O’Rouke but Nathan remained standing. “Do you believe in the Bible, Sheriff?” he asked.

O’Rouke raised an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“
Everything,” Nathan answered flatly.

“
I suppose I believe in the Lord and his word, but I ain’t much of one for church,” O’Rourke answered evenly.

“
Then you know demons are real.”

Louis was on the edge of his chair with anticipation as Nathan continued.

“
There’s a demon on the road to Reaper’s Valley right now, as we speak. He’s very old, very powerful, and hates all of God’s creations. Above all else, he hates us, human beings. Man was made in God’s image and the Lord loves us best.”

“
I done said I ain’t much on preaching, boy, or are you deaf? If you got something to tell, just do it, and leave the sermons for Sunday,” O’Rouke grumbled as he gulped down a second shot of sour mash.

“
This demon is coming here to kill us. He hopes he can kick start the end of days by releasing his full self in this town and letting his evil grow, fed by sin, until it consumes the world.”

“
Why here?” Louis asked, unable to stop himself from interrupting.

“
I don’t know,” Nathan admitted, shaking his head. “Maybe because I’m here, maybe because it’s as good a place as any. He’s tried once before. I managed to stop him, but not to the point where he can’t try again—and he will, right here in this town. Soon.”

“
Even if I believed you, which I ain’t saying I do, how on God’s green Earth am I suppose to help you stop a demon?” O’Rouke chugged another shot of whiskey and refilled his glass.

“
Round up every man you can who knows how to handle a gun and we’ll meet him on the road. It’ll be cleaner if we can kill him before he makes it into town.”

“
I’m sorry, son, did you just say kill him? Didn’t you just say he was a demon?”

“
While he’s on Earth, his physical presence can die. If it does, he goes back to Hell and will stay there until the proper time for him and his kind to be unleashed upon the world in force, which I pray is a time long in the future. Killing him will not be easy, but there are ways,” Nathan explained.

“
What about all the folks you murdered in Highwater?” Louis interjected.

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know who told you that, but they got it wrong. Those weren’t people and I didn’t kill them. I set them free.”