Collier's Creek: 7 - Dust and Desertion by Clair Wright

We ran, bent at the waist, through the dark tunnels, with the wolf’s howls behind us. The cool dawn air had barely reached my nostrils when another sound – a hot, rushing roar  - came thundering behind us. I threw myself out of the mouth of the mine and rolled behind a rock, arms wrapped over my head, as all hell burst open around me.  Fire and dust and rock rained down. I heard yells and curses amidst the crash of rock on rock, but I daren’t lift my head to see if the others had escaped. Dust filled my eyes and ears and mouth, and I choked and retched.

At last it subsided. I wiped my eyes on the filthy sleeve of my jacket and shook the dust from my hat. In the dim dawn light, I could make out the grey shapes of others, getting to their feet, looking around for their companions.

“Here!” someone thrust a canteen into my hand. I looked up to see the woman standing over me still carrying her pack. A man with the same dark skin stood beside her, rubbing welts on his wrists.

“Much obliged,” I said, taking a mouthful. I spat into the dust.

“We never got around to introducing ourselves,” I said, holding out my hand as I handed back the canteen. “My name’s…”

She held up her palm to stop me. “Ah know all I need to know about you, Mister- Out-o’-Towner,” she said, “and I reckon the less you know of us the better, if you’ll forgive me.”

Her man stepped forward. “That’s right. You’ll want to be moving along before Billy Clements turns up.”

“Happy to,” I said, and I meant it. I had had my fill of this place.  “But I need to find James Lennox first.”

“Long gone. He’s of my way of thinking.” He pointed behind me.

I turned around, and sure enough we were alone. The other men had melted into the dusty land.

“Can you at least tell me about the wolf? What was that thing?” Those blazing red eyes were etched on my brain and I felt strange, un-nerving echoes of that uncontrollable rage which had taken me over. I shivered.

The man glanced at his wife. She nodded. “All I’ll say is Hannah’ll do more that knock you over the head next time, now you’ve seen that beast. You’d best get back to the city, where you belong.” She looked around, as if expecting Hannah to show up any moment. “She don’t like folks telling tales, gets her all jumpy. Look what happened to Dale.  Auntie Margaret’s already got her looking for you, remember?”

I dimly recalled the hooves passing as I crouched in the gully, a stranger’s hand clamped to my mouth.

“Margaret? Does she know about Billy’s little operation?”

She shook her head. “I’m all done with talking to you, and you’ll be done with your asking, if you want to stay alive. We’ll be off now.”

And with that, they left me, striding out into the scrubby land and disappearing into the heat haze.

I sat in a patch of shade under a rock, and considered my options. I could try to walk back to town, but I wasn’t sure of the route and I felt weak and thirsty. I remembered those circling vultures when we had found Hank. I didn’t fancy being their next meal.  I could head for Aunty Margaret’s place. Her silk sheets were certainly very appealing, but I wasn’t sure of what reception I would get, if she had really sent Hannah out looking for me the night before.

I climbed onto the rock and looked out over the horizon. Something caught by eye. A cloud of dust, a good distance away but heading in my direction. I strained my eyes against the sun. As it drew closer I made out the shape of a wagon, the horse galloping hell for leather straight towards me. I jumped down and crouched behind the rock, waiting for it to get close enough to make out who was driving.

Covered in dust and sweat, her blond curls stuck to her forehead, Bonnie leapt down in a flurry of skirts and petticoats. “They’re sayin’ there was an explosion at the mine! Where’s James? Is he alright?”

Collier's Creek: 6 - Into Darkness by Nick Stead

The entrance to the mine gaped like the maw of some great beast, a gateway to Hell if ever I saw one. In the moonlight it was just visible as a patch of blackness somehow more complete than the twilight of our surroundings outside, as if the darkness of the tunnel had a different quality to it, one of a distinctly sinister nature. I wanted nothing more than to turn back from this madness I’d been dragged into, but I had a job to do and it seemed like all the answers I sought awaited in that passage of doom.

A flame burst into life beside me, the strange woman lighting a torch she’d been carrying in a pack filled with supplies. New shadows danced around the flickering light as she approached the mine, my sense of foreboding heightened as I fell into step beside her, the darkness made somehow more eerie for the orange glow in its midst. It only seemed to grow stronger at the edges of the light and I shuddered to think what might lurk just beyond sight.

There were no workers down there at that time of night but from what the woman had told me we could expect some company, and none of it good. I thought I could hear something from one of the tunnels up ahead but I couldn’t be sure, fear sending my imagination into overdrive as I strained my senses for any signs of danger. It was when we came to the point where the tunnel split into three that we heard the scream.

A brief glance at the woman confirmed there was nothing imagined about that sound, and we broke into a run, she no doubt fearing for her husband, while I was suffering from reckless heroism once again. There was no question as to which tunnel the scream had come from, and luckily this one didn’t appear to be branching off. We did seem to be running deep into the mine though, and we slowed only when we reached the dead end.

“What the hell?” I panted.

“They’re here, just gotta know where to look,” the woman said.

She handed me the torch and began to retrace our steps, running her hands over the stone as she went, clearly searching for something. I didn’t have to wait long before she found it. A look of triumph passed over her face as she dug her fingers into a crevice and heaved, a well disguised boulder rolling just enough to the side for us to squeeze through to a hidden passage.

“What was that?” a man’s voice said from somewhere up ahead.

“How in the blazes do you expect me to know?” another man answered him. “Go take a look yer fool.”

“And why do I have to go?!”

“Quit arguing; Billy will have our heads if anything happens to these guns. Go take a look and if it’s intruders shoot ‘em!”

We drew our own guns, tense as we waited for Billy’s goon to appear. But a new sound reached our ears, one that filled me with a cold dread far worse than anything I’d felt up to that point.

It was unmistakeably the growl of some mighty beast which could only be the wolf I kept hearing mention of, the noise rumbling in the creature’s chest like thunder. I was even more reluctant to head towards the animal than I had been to enter the mine, but my only ally down here was motioning at me to move on, and if the two men had a bunch of captives I couldn’t leave them to be torn apart by the beast. So I crept forwards, brandishing the torch in one hand and pointing my gun with the other.

A strange sight awaited at the end of that fated tunnel. There were the two men we’d heard with guns aimed at the wolf, but they stood as if frozen by fear. Just beyond them were the men we’d come looking for plus a dozen or so more, all bound and gagged. Behind them I could see the guns and enough dynamite to bring the entire mine down on our heads. And then there was the wolf itself.

An impressive specimen, the beast stood taller than any canid I’d ever laid eyes on, its body muscular beneath that fur black as the darkness of the mine itself, and its powerful jaws big enough to wrap round a person’s head. But what really held my attention were its eyes, blazing an unnatural red with a rage I’d never encountered in any other animal before. One look was enough to know this was no normal wolf, and after Dale had referred to it as ‘our wolf’ I had to wonder if they’d found some means to control it. Not that it really mattered in that moment. Billy’s goons no longer seemed to be in control of the situation and the mixture of fear and hate on my companion’s face told me she was as helpless against the creature as I was.

For reasons I’ll never be able to quite explain, the wolf turned its great head away from the two men it had been readying to attack, focusing on us instead. It fixed us with its gaze of fury and I suddenly found myself drowning in twin pools of bloodshed, lost in something greater than a predator’s hunger. This was a hunger I’d only ever seen in men of a certain nature, a hunger for violence and death. And I felt something stir deep within me in response, just as chaos erupted.

With the wolf’s attention on us, the goons seemed to find their courage, opening fire on the beast. I was sure the bullets hit the creature but they didn’t appear to do anything more than feed its rage, the monstrous thing turning back to them and charging. In the blink of an eye it was on one of them, his screams echoing round the mine as the other man lost his nerve and started to run. My companion rushed over to her lover while some rational part of my mind urged me to go and help free the captives, but something stronger was at work, something primal.

I had Billy’s goon in my sights, my own lips curling into a snarl. Fury roared at the centre of my being, spreading through my veins until my rational self was lost in that dark blaze. To this day I still don’t know if it was the wolf’s doing or something about that unholy mine – whether I was infected by the blackness of those tunnels, filled with an evil no light could ever hope to vanquish. All I know for sure is that my mind latched onto the idea that Billy and his goons were my enemies, and that animal need to survive took over, driving me to kill him before he could kill me.

The fool didn’t run far, stopping to take aim at the dynamite with the plan to blow us all to hell. I shot him in the leg before he could squeeze the trigger, his limb collapsing under him so that he fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in agony. The next thing I knew I was stood over his prone form, beating him with a savage pleasure which didn’t seem my own. Bones cracked and blood spilled, and finally his screams came to an end.

Panting, I looked up to see the captives had been freed, the men and the dark skinned woman running towards me.

“Run!” she shouted, but the words barely registered with the darkness shrouding my mind. “Run! It’s going to blow!”

That cleared my mind somewhat. “No, I stopped him.”

“The fuse is lit, run!”

And so we ran. Somewhere behind us the wolf howled, and I knew in my heart we had not seen the last of the beast. But whether for good or ill I could not say, and if bullets couldn’t stop it, I could only pray it would prove to be our ally when next we met.

Collier's Creek: 5 - Secret Weapons by Vivien Teasdale

Aunt Margaret left me, with a long lingering look of regret. I didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved. Though my thoughts were racing, wondering just what was happening outside, I must have dozed off for a while because when I opened my eyes again, all was quiet. Carefully I sat up and got out of bed. My head seemed ok so I got dressed and headed for the door.

The farmhouse was in darkness, as were the bits of the ranch I could see outside. No-one was around in the yard and even the stable block was silent as I crept in. The horses shuffled and snorted, wondering who was disturbing them, but the brown pony I led out made no demur as I saddled him and set off in the direction of town.

Half an hour later I was flat on my back, staring at the stars. I’d not seen anything to be scared of but the pony had spooked at a lonesome bush, chucked me off and made his escape back to his stable. Now I was out in the middle of nowhere, with another headache and a black wolf roaming about the place. That is, I suddenly remembered, unless he was trapped in the mine. I needed to get to town and warn everyone.

It was when I’d been walking a while that I realised I’d wandered off the path and was now truly lost. Even worse, as I walked, I began to get the feeling that I was being followed. Just every now and again I heard an echo of my footsteps, a scrape on the rough ground that I’d not made. I looked round but there was nothing; no movement, no noise, but it was too dark to be sure. I walked on, edgy now and unsteady on my feet, tripping over my own boots in fear of what might be behind. Could I outrun even a cayote let alone a wolf looking for its next meal?

I struggled on until, faintly, I heard hooves, galloping towards me. I turned too quickly, lost my footing and slithered down a small gully. Even as I came to a stop, I felt strong arms wrapping themselves around me and a hand over my mouth.

 

‘Quiet, mister, or I’ll break your neck.’

 

Naturally, I kept both quiet and still, listening to the slow breathing in one ear and the beating hooves as they came closer, then faded into the distance.

I was released as my captor stepped back.

‘What in tarnation you doin’ out here this time o’ night?’

‘I could ask you the same.’ In the slight moonlight I could just make out the shape of a woman, her black skin blending with the night. She was easily as tall as me and dressed in the buckskins and shaggy jacket of a hunter. ‘I’m trying to get to town, what about you?’

‘You’re that fella, lookin’ fer Lennox, ain’t yer? Really want to find him, then keep away from town. Even he’s learnt that much.’

‘You know where he is? Can you take me there? Is he ...’

‘Whoa, fella. Why should ah help you? Got my own problems, ain’t none o’ yourn.’ She stopped and looked at me, considering something, before she went on. ‘Well, maybe. Thought you was in cahoots with that Hannah till she bashed you over the head.’

‘How did you know that? In cahoots with her doing what? I’m just here to find Lennox.’

‘Hm, reckon ah believe you too. If Hannah thought you was a real threat you’d be dead, like Dale is now.’

‘Dale? The drunkard? But he was at the Stud ...’

She nodded. ‘Yep, and that’s where he’s buried. Billy won’t stop at nuthin’, he’s too much ridin’ n getting them guns through.’

‘Look,’ I said, getting a bit exasperated. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re on about. My job is just to find Lennox and let his parents know he’s ok. Can you take me to him or not?’

She smiled, her teeth white in the darkness. ‘Sure can, mister. Problem is, he’s in the mine, same as a lot o’ folks round here. Thought he was just goin’ to meet a friend and got mixed up in Billy’s little sideline.’

‘I heard Dale mention the mine, that there’s dynamite down there and a wolf.’

‘Hm, there’s dynamite, for sure, it’s a mine. There’s also the guns Billy’s hidin’ afore he gets them over the border into Mexico. And now they’ve got your friend Lennox down there. And my man, too. That’s why we need to work together. Got to get them out and warn the miners that Billy’s goin’ to blow that mine when he’s finished this last run of guns.’

I had the feeling I was getting into something I would regret. After all, no-one since I’d come out West had given me any reason to believe them. Why should I trust this woman? But then my mind got sidetracked with what she’d said.

‘And the wolf? Why is everyone so bothered about that animal? Surely they could just shoot it, like the cayotes or the bears?’

She gave me a sidelong look, then set off along the gully. ‘You coming or not, fella?’ she asked.

Collier's Creek: 4 - The Stud Farm by Owen Townend

I awoke to silk sheets and the softest pillow against my cheek.

   I never thought there would be such gentility in an Old West town like Collier's Creek but, as I opened my eyes, everything was colour and neatness. Blue patterned plates with wagon trains around the rim. Embroideries with pink thread spelling out 'My Heart Got Lost in Austin' and 'Home'.

   Purple curtains fluttered against the window. I sat up to see where I was but a small firm hand pressed against my chest.

   "Rest, Mr Lawman," a soft voice said, "You're safe at the farm."

   I turned to a woman with black ringlets in her hair that suggested youth and deep green eyes that revealed age. Her heart-shaped lips formed a smile.

   "I am Aunt Margaret," she said, "You've only been asleep for an hour which is surprising considering the whack ol' Hannah gave ya! You mustn't have a head for such things!"

   Hannah. So it was her. "Where is she?"

   Aunt Margaret smoothed down the sheets and sat beside me. "She had to deal with her brother, take him on to a special place. That girl won't ever stop to apologise but I will."

   "Why'd she hit me?"

   "Hank should never have gone out on his own. That wolf..." Aunt Margaret shook her head. "Hannah and Bill are seeing to him. Far away from here."

   "Is Hank in danger?"

   "Yes and not just him now." Before Aunt Margaret could explain what she meant by that, something caught her eye outside. She marched over to the window.

   "Tommy Boden! Get your pert ass over here right now!"

   A tanned man of twenty approached the sill. His face was smeared with dirt but his chest glistened with sweat. I detected a slight hum of approval from Aunt Margaret.

   "What in tarnation is that noise by the stables?"

   Tommy pulled out a rag and ran it across his fingers. "Dale wandered onto the property again, I reckon."

   "You reckon? You reckon?" Aunt Margaret looked about set to blow. "Get over there and find out! Who's down there right now?"

   "David and Andy."
   Aunt Margaret's eyes widened. "You know David's leg! Get out there, boy! Go! Or none of that..." This last part I did not catch though I supposed it wouldn't have been proper to hear.

   She span back around and primped her scarlet dress.

   "Sweet child," she told me, "Smart as a sugar cane."

   There was still so much I didn't understand. It felt like my every question was being evaded. Hannah...

   "Oh, don't pay that girl no more mind," Aunt Margaret muttered, "She's far too busy to return the favour."

   Was I really that obvious? I pushed the sheets off me.

   "I have to go."

   "They are miles away." She hit me with a hard stare I could feel. The green of her eyes seemed to darken. "You can't keep your head straight."

   Attempting to get on my feet, I did feel dizzy.

   "Besides," Aunt Margaret said, sidling up to me, "I like my handsome faces in one place."

   For a woman of her years, she was quite the looker. Her every movement stirred something in me and that glint in her eye. So close.

   "So," she whispered and I could hear a trill in her breath, "Mr Lawman..."

   There was a build up of voices outside the door. It flew open.

   Dale, the town drunk, stumbled in: muscular arms trying to pull him back but failing. He had a broken brown bottle in his fist which he pointed at me.

   "Stranger!" he shouted and made to run for me.

   Aunt Margaret blocked his way as Tommy and four other farm hands watched sheepishly from the hall. She looked down at the bottle and slapped it out of Dale's hand.

   "What is it, Dale Jensen?" she snapped, "I ain't got time for your damn liquored tomfoolery now!"

   Another Jensen. I wished that I had my notebook: I could sketch out a family tree of sorts. Still it was in my jacket which was on the back of a chair at the other end of the room. I could not see where my pants had gone.

   Dale lowered his head at Aunt Margaret's insistent tone. "Ah'm sorry, Miss Maggie, but ah hear you've got that lowdown out-of-towner in yer cot. An' ah saw what he did!"

   "What he do?"

   "He trapped our wolf! Lured it into the mine!"

   Our wolf?

   Aunt Margaret rolled her eyes. "Was that mind rot from the Golden Horseshoe?"

   Dale nodded like a boy about to get the switch.

   "Clearly not your first of the evening!" She pointed at me. "That there is Mr Calvin Samuels! He has not been in town a day!"

   Dale's thick, grey brow furrowed as he looked at me. "That ain't the Lennox kid."

   I sat up. "You've seen him? How long ago?"

   "Sundown yesterday."

   "Is he still at the mine now?"

   Dale frowned again. "Ah can't rightly remember."

   Aunt Margaret raised a hand before I could ask another question.

   "Thank you for informing us," she said, lightly gripping Dale's shoulder. "You didn't work yourself up for nothing. Still you know the rules, Dale. This is my land." Aunt Margaret turned to the young men still waiting at the doorway. "Boys, make yourselves useful and get him on home now."

   Dale broke down as Tommy led him away. "They're all still down there! 'Tween wolf and dynamite..."

   Aunt Margaret shook her head. "This is a sanctuary for lost souls but old Dale there just keeps on losing hisself."

   My mind was on the mine. Bonnie's mother said it was the largest employer in the town. I wondered just how many were in danger. Also did the wolf actually belong to anyone? If so how?

   I tried to get out of bed again but Aunt Margaret was too fast for me.

   "Not until Hannah gets back at least," she insisted, "Please."

   I didn't like any of this. I had young Lennox's last known location but couldn't get there for vertigo and charming bedside manner. My only hope of salvation was a woman who had seen fit to club me.

   Aunt Margaret moved closer.

   "I know," she said, teasing back the bed sheets.

   A single gunshot rang out: outdoors but definitely not far away.

   "It had to be done."