Wild (5 page)

“Bullshit.” Fancy Jim turned around. Juan stood at the corner of the boarding house, revolver held at waist level.

“Here’s the score,” Black Tom said, strolling out from the far side of the warehouse, guns drawn. “You take us to Lee, and maybe we don’t kill you.”

“You!” Fancy Jim’s hands twitched south, and Matt put a hand out.

“I wouldn’t do that, son.” Jim sighed and raised his hands back into the air. “Juan, take his gun.” Juan eased forward and plucked Fancy Jim’s gun from its holster.

“Now, then,” Matt said. “Do we have an understanding, Mister Davis?”

The dandy nodded. “Follow me.” He turned around and headed back down the way he had come. Matt and Juan pulled alongside either side of him, and Tom walked a few paces behind.

“No funny business,” Tom said as they passed out of Mesilla proper and into the barren, hill-speckled desert. “I think I know where you guys are holed up, now, so you’re pretty much worthless if you make any trouble.”

“Not making any trouble,” Jim said. “Though you boys sure are going to be in for a surprise when you meet up with Lee.”

“Somehow, I doubt that old geezer can do anything I wouldn’t see coming,” Tom said.

Jim stopped at the foot of the nearest hill. “It’s just over the top here. We have a camp in the valley.”

“How many?” Matt asked.

“Two,” Jim said. “Lee and Big Steve Harris.”

“That sounds about right,” Tom said. “Me and James used to ride with them a while back. Still get together for the occasional job. You know, for money.” The outlaw cast a dirty look at Fancy Jim, who smirked and began climbing the hill.

“Keep quiet,” Matt said. “We lose the element of surprise, I start shooting. I only need Oliver alive.”

They stopped at the top of the hill. Matt pushed Jim flat against the ground and the rest followed suit. There were two tents in the valley, and a campfire between them. Two men sat around the fire, smoking and passing a bottle. Three horses were tied to a nearby tree.

“You go first.” Matt prodded Jim with his gun. “Act normal, and like my partner said, no funny stuff.”

“Hey,” Jim called as he started down into the valley. The two men looked up.

“You’re back early,” one of them chuckled. The fire flickered across his gray, grizzled face. “Ol’ Janey took the starch out of you real quick, huh—” The chuckle died on his lips as he saw Matt, Tom and Juan clambering down the hill behind Jim, guns drawn. “What the fuck!” He jumped to his feet, dragging a shotgun from the dirt beside him.

Matt shouted and dropped to his knees, firing on the way down. Blood spurted from the old man’s hand. He dropped the shotgun with a yell.

“Don’t even think about it, Steve,” Tom called, rushing towards the other man. “Just mosey on over here and hit your knees.” The big man glowered at Tom, but did as he was told.

“Now, come over here and chat with us a minute, Mister Oliver,” Matt said, sidling up to the old outlaw. The old man grasped his bleeding hand to his chest.

“I’m gonna kill you, Jim,” he said.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the dandy began, but Matt waved his free hand at him, and he fell silent.

“I don’t care about your internal affairs, gents,” Matt said. “The three of you can have a shootout after we leave, for all I care. First, though; you’re going to tell me what you know about Colonel Waters and his boy.”

“What’s it to you?” Lee said.

“For starters,
señor
,” Juan said, “I can treat that wound. I’m a doctor. You need those hands to make a living, and believe it or not, my friend is a good man.”

“I don’t care none about good men or bad,” Lee said. “But you do have a good point. I took them fellas right out of their house a few nights ago.”

“Where are they now?” Matt asked.

“Damned if I know.” Lee shrugged and grinned, showing a large gap in his teeth.

“I think I can put some of the pieces together,” Matt said. He pulled something from his pocket and held it out to the grizzled outlaw. It was the yellowed tooth he’d found in the fire. “You did a job for some folks and had a disagreement after the fact.”

“Sure did,” Lee said. “Didn’t pay me my money. Took off with Waters and his kid strapped to a horse. Ain’t sayin’ nothin’ else.”

“If you don’t, I’m going to put some more holes where they don’t belong,” Matt said, aiming his gun at Lee’s knee.

“Fire away,” Lee said. His eyes darted from left to right, and beads of sweat shone on his brow. “All you can take is my life.”

“You’re scared, aren’t you,” Tom said. “We already ran into those dead boys. Killed ‘em all off. Again. I think you have more to fear from my buddy here. And me, if you don’t have my money.”

“I don’t have your money, my money, or anyone else’s,” Lee said. “Fucking wizard took everything.”

“You mean a
hechicero
,
señor
?” Juan asked.

“I mean a damned witch, son,” Lee said. “Showed up with a few servants. Some of ‘em didn’t look too healthy, either. Took the colonel and his boy. We tried to fight, but he waved his hands and we couldn’t move. One of his buddies knocked that tooth out of my mouth.”

“What exactly is a
hechicero
, Juan?” Matt asked.

“In English, it means ‘false physician,’ roughly,” Juan explained. “In
brujeria
, Mexican magic, there are
curanderos
, good magicians, who heal and bring good luck, and
hechiceros
, who deal with the Devil and curse your crops and bring sickness.”

“A
hechicero
could raise the dead?” Tom asked.

“Absolutely,
señor
. If he was bold enough to ask
el Diablo
for the power.”

“This isn’t the first time you met this wizard, is it?” Matt asked.

“No,” the old outlaw answered. “Met him a couple of weeks ago, right after I parted ways with this piece of work.” He jerked his head towards Black Tom. “Found out we both had business in El Paso, and told me he’d pay well if I’d handle something for him. Handed me a bag of gold coins and gave me some instructions.”

“What were the instructions?” Juan asked.

“Told me to light a couple of fires. One before I took Waters, and one after. I had to throw coins into both fires, and scraps of paper. Had to leave some of those coins at the colonel’s home, and the others where they lay. Bastard was supposed to pay me when he picked the two of ‘em up, and he was very specific about the boy being with the old man.”

“Do you have any papers or coins left?” Juan asked.

“None. I’d never seen anything like those coins before. Looked like pure gold. I’m sure you can guess what I was thinking,” Lee said, grinning tightly. “That guy was scary, though. Wore a mask with teeth in it, and one snakeskin boot. Still had the head on it. And a necklace of shiny black stones. That’s all I remember. Fella spooked the shit out of me, or else I would have taken the money and ran. The papers, they had some kinda writing on them. Didn’t look like Spanish or anything else, for that matt—”

Something whistled through the air and smacked into the old man’s shoulder. Matt jumped back, whirling about with his gun in the air.

“Damnit!” he cried. He saw nothing but his partners and the Oliver gang. He looked back at Oliver and saw a thin silver knife, buried to the hilt in the aged outlaw’s flesh. Lee had fallen to the ground and was writhing in pain, clawing at the knife.

A low moan echoed through the surrounding hills, accompanied by a voice muttering in a language Matt couldn’t understand.

“More of those things,” Juan said. “We need to space ourselves around the fire, facing out.” He took up his position, and Matt and Tom followed suit.

“You too,” Matt said, waving at Oliver and Big Steve. Grab your guns.” He tossed Fancy Jim back his revolver. “We’re all in this together.”

The Oliver gang took their places in the circle, and the six of them cast about slowly with their guns, waiting for the attack.

The dead shuffled out of the hills a moment later. Tom and Oliver took aim and picked off the first few.

“We need to wait until they get a little closer,” Matt shouted. “Make our shots count. We’ll rotate around the fire to cover each other while we reload.”

As the dead grew nearer, five howling, red-skinned men poured down the hillside, dressed in leather skins and carrying axes and slings.

“I don’t think those boys are dead,” Tom said.

“That’s good,” Matt said. “They’ll get here quicker and we should have them taken care of before the dead reach us.” The three men began firing as the screaming Indians reached level ground. Two of them fell. A third let out a bloodcurdling shriek and hurled his ax toward Matt. Matt dropped to his knees, and the ax whistled past. He heard a dull thump and a grunt, and whirled around. Big Steve had dropped the shotgun and had fallen to the ground with the ax buried in his head.

Oliver yelled and ran across the valley, firing two revolvers. Another of the attackers went down, but a fourth swung his ax into the old outlaw’s shoulder. Oliver fell, and one of the dead, who had lost its footing and tumbled into the valley ahead of its comrades, crawled over to him and dove face-first into his flesh. Liquid tearing sounds and Oliver’s howls could be heard over the noise of the slow moving dead and remaining living attackers.

One of the men stopped and whirled a sling around his head. Matt fired and saw blood fly from the man’s head just as he cast loose his ammunition. A small, leather pouch sailed through the air and hit the ground at Juan’s feet. It rolled into the campfire, and Juan tackled Tom to the ground, yelling for the others to get down.

The fire exploded, flinging Matt and Jim into the air. Matt hit the ground, rolled, and came up with both guns blazing. The last armed attacker fell to the ground in a burst of blood, brains and bone.

Then the dead were upon them.

The hammers of Matt’s guns fell on empty cylinders as the first creature knelt for him, maw gaping. He swept the legs out from under the corpse and it landed in a tangled heap. Matt holstered his guns, crawled for what was left of Big Steve, and tried to pull the shotgun from under him. It was stuck beneath the outlaw’s bulk. He spun around on his knees, digging at his belt for fresh rounds. Another creature stood over him, reaching—

Its head disappeared in a fine mist.

Gore splattered Matt’s face as the thing fell beside him. He wiped the viscera from his face and saw Black Tom. The outlaw grinned at him as he blasted the first attacker, who had been struggling to its feet.

“Bet you didn’t expect that,” Tom said, helping Matt roll Steve over to get the shotgun. “Now you can pay me back. I need to reload.”

Matt let loose with the shotgun, dropping two more of the creatures with two shots. He cracked the barrel and patted Steve’s pockets. Luckily, the man was carrying more rounds. Matt grabbed a handful, reloaded the shotgun, and climbed to his feet. Juan and Jim were standing nearby, laying waste to the things coming down the hill and yelling orders to one another. A few minutes later, the dead and twice-dead were strewn about.

“We did it again, pardner!” Tom cried. He slapped Juan on the back as the four men clustered together. He pulled the flask from his back pocket, took a long pull and passed it around to everyone, even Fancy Jim. No one refused.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Matt said, pointing up at the nearest hilltop.

A small, dark figure stood there, waving a staff and screaming inarticulately. Matt aimed his revolver and fired a couple shots, but they missed. The little man scrambled back down the other side, out of sight.

“His ass is mine,” Tom yelled, and ran up the hill after. A few minutes later he scrambled back down the way he’d come.

“Son of a bitch disappeared. Like...like magic.”

“I’d lay odds that there was our
hechicero
,
”
Matt said. “And now we’re back at square one.”

“Wish I could help you,” Jim said, lighting a cigarette. “And please, no funny stuff. We met one of the wizard’s guys outside a bar in El Paso, probably the same one you met Tom in. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Damnit,” Matt said, smacking a fist into his thigh. “We were so close!”

“Wait a minute,” Juan said, walking towards one of the dead Indians. “This man is wearing a pack.” He stripped the pack from the man’s back and dumped it out onto the dusty ground.

Matt knelt beside Juan. The two men pawed through the contents of the pack, but there was nothing but some food, a knife, clothing and a pair of boots. “Still nothing.” He cursed and dropped his head into his hands.

“
Señor
,” Juan said, holding up the boots. “I can’t promise anything, but I swear I’ve seen this mud before.” The boots were caked with a dull, dried red earth. “As I’m sure you already know, there isn’t a lot of mud to be found in this part of Texas or Mexico, but I’ve knocked a bit of this from my own boots, when I was in the Army. These men set up camp on El Camino Real, near Las Cruces, or you should just send me packing into these hills.”