Six Guns Straight From Hell - Tales Of Horror And Dark Fantasy From The Weird Weird West (2 page)

Moses could barely contain his sense of self-satisfaction. He wished that there were two of him so he could shake his own hand and pat his own back. Instead, he settled for dancing around the cave. When his revels brought him close to Louise’s cage, he stopped dead in his tracks and sat down on the stone floor. “What must you think of me?” He sighed, “You’ve watched me kill six women here so that I could give power to men not worthy to stroke your hair.”

Louise looked him straight in the eye, “I ain’t afraid of you. You just some crazy man likes to watch folks suffer. I seen your kind when I was a little girl, Night Riders with torches and masks. I see through your mask!”

Just then they heard the faint echo of a howl and felt the tremble of the door opening and closing. “What the hell did those idiots forget this time?” He sat and listened for the sound of hoof beats but none came. “That’s peculiar.” Scratching his neck, he stood back up and went to the middle of the room where he cocked his head to one side to listen. After a few minutes he thought to go see what was going on, but a flash of light and a sharp crack exploded in the middle of the chamber’s doorway, leaving a thin veil of smoke. Then a second and a third, till the entire doorway was a thick, hazy curtain of vapors. Through this curtain strode a man with strong, handsome features and an oriental slant to his eyes. He was wrapped from head to toe in a loose toga of fine, heavy silk and his wavy black hair flowed around his shoulders. His face was split from ear to ear by a warm, infectious smile. Moses snarled in perfect Chinese, “Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want!”

Ping bowed low. He had found various chemicals in the engineer’s saddlebags and, with the knowledge he had gained in his short, but exciting, career in fireworks manufacturing, he had managed his flash powder entrance. It felt good to unbraid his hair too, for a change, and it seemed to fit the role. “I am Chin Song Ping, a humble sorcerer from the Celestial lands across the great water.” Well, he had been a sorcerer’s apprentice for a while, but he had hated the hours and all the potions gave him a rash. “In my dreams I saw a vision of the wonderful plan which you have wrought here in the Americas, and I thought how delightful and gratifying it would be to meet one with such a bold and devious mind. So, I thought I would drop by for a visit.” When he raised his head he saw Moses, chest puffed out and grinning.

“
Welcome, welcome!” Moses cried, “It isn’t often I have a guest of your obvious intelligence and insight. Come, sit. He waved at the platform and it became a table and two chairs. “I haven’t much hospitality to offer, I suffer from a sensitivity to strong spirits…” Ping pulled a bottle of fine sipping whiskey from a fold of cloth, another saddlebag find. “… But perhaps I could make an exception for such a festive occasion.” Two glasses appeared on the table.

After a couple of toasts, and some friendly chit-chat, Ping sighed, “This is most pleasant, but I wonder if you have ever heard of this American game called poker? I’ve always wanted to learn it and I do so enjoy a friendly game of chance.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than an unopened deck of cards appeared in Moses’ hand. “It’s customary in poker to make wagers as you play. What shall we play for?”

From various folds of cloth, Ping withdrew diamonds, rubies and golden trinkets of many types and made a substantial pile on the table. “I have these few baubles, will they do?” he asked innocently and Moses’ mouth watered. Ping poured him another drink.

After several hands, Ping’s pile had diminished some and the bottle was half empty. Moses raked in another pot and giggled. “You know, Ping Ol’ buddy, I like you! So I’m going to let you in on a little secret. My name isn’t Moses Castle, It’s Coyote! I’m something of a god around these parts.”

Sweat broke out on Ping’s lip but his face remained calm. “A god?”

Coyote/Moses tilted back in his chair. “Yeah, well I was very big with a lot of the peoples who’ve lived in these parts for thousands of years, but these days… White men, black men, even Celestials such as yourself, it’s all changed.” He looked wistfully at the bubbling pit, “But I’ve got my plan and it’s going pretty well so far.”

Ping shuffled the cards and looked over his adversary’s shoulder at Louise, who nodded her head in affirmation. “Hmm, God, that must be very nice for you.”

Ping lost a couple of more hands before he said, as casually as he could, “I fear, oh great Coyote, that your plan is so wonderful in its subtlety that I don’t fully grasp its logic.” He laid aside two cards and got replacements, “Why didn’t you just bestow your wondrous red sashes upon your native followers so that they might rid the land of foreigners themselves?”

Coyote looked thoughtful, “I could have done that, but it would have been a rather mundane solution, don’t you think? Now, my plan is intricate, subtle, as you said. I build my army of Cowboys and send them out to pillage, kill and rape until the land is free of foreign devils, then, just when they think they have triumphed, I command all the sashes to choke their wearers. I step forward and claim due credit, the tribes regain their lands and worship me again, as I so richly deserve. Everyone wins! A plan should be fun!”

Ping smiled a fragile grin of agreement and lost another hand.

After a time, both the whiskey and Ping’s pile of treasure were gone. He stretched and yawned as Coyote sat counting his winnings. “I fear I haven’t given you much of a challenge, and for that I apologize.” Then he smiled warmly. “Perhaps it is because we play for mere baubles, rather than things of true value and power”

Coyote’s ears pricked up. “What did you have in mind?”

From a fold in his sleeve, Ping drew a long, stiff white hair that fairly glowed in the weird light. Drawing on all the knowledge he had gained during his time as a seller of rare antiquities, he began his pitch.

“
This is a hair plucked from the chin of the great and holy Jade Emperor, may Buddha bless his name. Just before he ascended to heaven for his thousand year reign, he called in his barber to groom him properly one last time, for it is well known that there are no decent barbers to be found in heaven. The barber, knowing the vanity of his lord, merely plucked one hair from his beard, this hair, and declared him perfect and fit for heaven. From that day forth, whoever possesses this hair is blessed great handsomeness.”

Coyote cocked an eyebrow studying both Ping and the hair.

“
Ah, you think that I am good looking, but not devastatingly so.” Ping continued, “But, before I acquired this hair, I was so ugly that women would throw rocks and children spit in my face. My warts had warts and I looked as though someone had beaten me about the face with a chain. This face is the best the holy hair could do for me, but my mind reels at the glory it would bestow on one already as handsome as you.”

With a gleam in his eye, Coyote shoved his loot out onto the table saying, “Let’s play!”

Ping shook his head. “You insult me, sir! I offer priceless wonder and you would match them with baubles?”

“
Name your stakes, then!” Coyote cried.

Ping leisurely let his gaze wander around the room until it fell on Louise, sitting quietly in her cage. “The girl. She is pleasant to the eye and I sense that she has some value to you.”

Coyote plucked the key to her cage from around his neck and added it to the pile. Ping laid the white hair on top of the rest and proceeded to shuffle the cards. Coyote cut the deck twice, keeping his eyes locked with his guest’s. Ping dealt five cards to each of them and sat a moment, studying his cards. “The wager still seems somehow lacking. How would it suit you to wager something more personal?”

Coyote hunched into his cards and snarled, “Like what?”

“
If you win, I will perform for you one service, no matter how unpleasant or demeaning. If I win, you pledge to do the same.”

Coyote looked at his cards, then at the hair, then back at his hand and smiled slightly. “Agreed.”

“
Ah, then I shall draw two cards, how many would you like?” The would-be god shook his head and slowly lowered his cards to the table. He was holding two fives and three kings. Still, gazing deeply into Coyote’s eyes, Ping laid his cards down one at a time; a king, followed by an ace, and then another ace, and a third, and finally, slowly, a fourth ace.

The god’s face went white, even in the red light. “I’ve been tricked,.” he whispered. He shoved the table toward Ping and stood, seeming taller and broader than he had been. He bellowed his rage. “I am Coyote! I’m the trickster, I don’t
get
tricked!” Ping jumped to his feet and hurried to the other side of the table where he bowed in seeming supplication. As the trickster raised his hand to deliver a mighty blow to Ping’s exposed back, the young man rushed him with a savage head butt to the god’s groin. Reeling back from the painful blow, he pin-wheeled at the edge of the pool. For just a moment, before plunging backward screaming into the natural cauldron, a look on his face seemed to say,
Not again
.

Ping snatched the key from the table and raced to Louise. The door was flung wide and they embraced with a passion fueled by fear and relief and when they kissed, it seemed it would never end.

“
Ahem!” Ping shoved Louise behind him as he braced to continue the battle. There, on the table, sat a sopping wet, slightly mangy looking, small coyote. Its fur was singed away in several places and painful looking blisters covered its reddened skin. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Coyote spoke, “I was just a little angry there and got carried away. I always pay my debts, no need to get rough.”

Ping bowed slightly, but kept his eyes on Coyote. “My apologies.”

“
So, you have the girl. What service can I perform for you?”

Still bowed, Ping said, “I humbly ask that you remove your spell of invincibility from all the ruffians you call Cowboys, and never seek to use this evil plan again.”

“
Oh! Anything but that! I really like this plan and you can’t actually care all that much about what happens to the white devils!”

Ping sighed, “Perhaps, perhaps not. But I intend to stay in this land for a while and an army of homicidal, rapacious, invincible thugs might prove inconvenient at some point.”

“
Very well.” He clicked two claws together like a man might snap his fingers then licked at a blister. “It was probably a dumb plan anyway. Say, would you mind if I borrowed that magic hair? I think I might need it for a while?”

Ping smiled. “Please, take it as my gift.” With that, the Coyote and the hair disappeared and the cave started to shake itself apart.

Ping shouted to Louise in his best English, “Run, run fast. Follow horse footsteps. I meet you at entrance to cave. Hurry, hurry!” As Louise rushed from the room, he leaped onto the top of the cages and made a running dive into the vent hole on the wall.

Louise made it to the entryway but it was closed and, with no idea how it worked and no sign of Ping, the despair finally overtook her. She sat down and cried with rocks and dust falling all around her. All that had happened to her in the last year, all the hideous deaths, the abuse, and now she was given a glimmer of hope only to have it snatched away--it was too much. Then, out of the dust and debris, came a sound, “Awooooo!” The stone began to move, “Awooooooooo!” Louder this time. And then Ping broke through the falling debris wearing only tattered pants, blinking and covered in dust, and dragging an enormous silk bundle which would have put Father Christmas to shame. He kissed her and motioned that she should help drag the bundle. She was surprised by the weight, but delighted by the afternoon sun and fresh air that she glimpsed beyond the rising door. “Must go now, cave bad, very bad!” She smiled and replied as they emerged into the sunlight, “You’s like a hero from some story book, you know that?”

After a well deserved nap, the two set about burying the treasure and had their first fight about how to best mark the site. Ping climbed into the saddle and pulled Louise up behind him. The stallion was much more amenable to being ridden now, but strangely skittish about having his tail touched.

As they rode off, Ping’s thoughts turned once more to the subject of career. He rather liked the thought of being a full-time hero but, as he had already rescued his beautiful damsel and gained a fortune, there seemed little hope for advancement in that field. No, he would just have to resign himself to a life of contentment and idle wealth.

Epilogue:

Tombstone Arizona, later that day
.

Virgil Earp grimaced at his newly bandaged wound. “When we opened fire on those Cowboys this afternoon, they just laughed at us. I know damn well I hit one of the McLaurys dead center and… nothing!