Michael Spradlin - Blood Riders

“All right,” Hollister said. “Pete, you stay with the train. We’re going to off-load the horses and pull those trees off the track before we leave, in case you need to get out of here. After that, we’re leaving for Clady. You stay in the gunner’s bubble with that Gatling. If we don’t come back or if you see an Archaic, don’t fight ’em off. You get the hell out of here. Send a wire to Pinkerton as soon as you can, tell him we failed and he’s going to have to try something else to kill these things. Tell him he’ll need the biggest goddamn stick of dynamite that’s ever been made. Or something.”

He looked at each of them. All of them wore solemn expressions on their faces. They were ready.

“All right,” Hollister said. “Let’s get going.”

Malachi sat on a chair in one of the large chambers of the mine. Around him dozens of Archaic initiates slept, hidden from the burning rays of the sun outside. Soon they would be able to go without sleep for weeks as their transformation from human to Archaic was completed. Their mood had changed completely since he had slaughtered the cowards earlier this morning. They had always had a healthy respect for his temper, but now they feared him. Since Shaniah had arrived in Absolution he had found it necessary to discipline his followers for their failures for the first time. If the world was to belong to his people, they would not be the last.

There had been no choice. Archaics could not be afraid. They could never be allowed to retreat, they must attack without hesitation and weakness would not be tolerated.

The mine was clear of bats and rodents, driven out by their preternatural fear of the Archaics, so the only sound was the occasional murmur from the disturbed sleep of his followers. He felt strong. He knew he was more powerful than he had been in centuries, since the Archaics had retreated to the high mountains of the homeland.

He would need his strength now more than ever.

Shaniah was coming. He could feel her presence growing closer. It had been so long since he had seen her. Years. And soon one of them would die.

It would end.

M onkey Pete’s cart worked remarkably well and given the terrain and the elevation they were able to make excellent time toward the mine. Demeter had little trouble pulling the cart up the steep incline, and by noon they were more than halfway there.

There was very little talking as they rode. They were alert and a little nervous. Shaniah was cloaked, reminding them that other Archaics could be about and cloaked as she was, and that ambush was always possible. But Hollister didn’t think Malachi would risk a daylight attack after losing so many in the night attack on the train. Chee and Hollister rode with Fire Shooters on their backs. The third was bolted to the cart. Each of them carried a Henry across his saddle.

It was four o’clock when they reached the mine. They stayed back in the trees surrounding the clearing where the bulk of the mining camp had once stood. Hollister dismounted and scanned the area with his spyglass but there was no movement or sign of anyone nearby. There were two buildings, both of them nearly falling down, one with the roof already partially caved in, about sixty yards from the mine opening. The other building was to the right of the first, perhaps ten yards closer to the entrance and nothing more than a small shed. He would put Chee with the Gatling and his Fire Shooter there. He would take up a position in the first building with the Fire Shooter, the Ass-Kicker, his Henry, and some of the dynamite, just in case things got really interesting.

“Shaniah, I want Chee in the small building with the Gatling. I don’t suppose you’d reconsider using a Fire Shooter, would you?” Hollister asked.

“No,” she answered and he decided not to press the issue.

“All right then, if you can cover our flank. And…”

“I will be going in to kill Malachi,” she said.

“But if we need-” Hollister started to say.

“Malachi has eluded me for years. He may well bring about the end of my people still. I will do what I can to protect and support you in your efforts to destroy his followers. And I will kill all of them who get in my way. But I am here to kill Malachi, even if it means my own death.”

“I… you… Shaniah… listen to me… please…” Hollister pleaded.

“The matter is closed,” she said.

Hollister stood there, his mouth open, trying to think of something to say to change her mind, but he had nothing. He could tell she would not be swayed.

“All right then,” he said. “Let’s get in position.”

The horses were secluded in the woods to the south of the camp, the direction they would need to flee in the train if everything turned to shit. They had less than two hours before the sun fell behind the mountains to the west. It wouldn’t be sundown completely, but it wouldn’t be direct sunlight either, and there was a better than good chance Archaics would exit the mine when the sun set. Hollister wanted to be ready.

Carefully he and Chee pulled the cart toward the building. They went as quietly as possible, and Monkey Pete had thought of everything, even greasing the wheels so they wouldn’t squeak as they rolled over the rough terrain. Hollister studied the entrance to the mine shaft with the spyglass again for several minutes. He wasn’t sure how far down into the mine the Archaics might go during the day and he hoped like hell they didn’t stay close to the opening so any sentries might spot them. But he couldn’t tell. The entrance was too dark and shrouded in shadow. He toyed with the idea of just dynamiting the entrance and trapping them all inside.

But such a plan had flaws. It wasn’t likely to kill the Archaics and they could dig their way out. And if some were standing guard near the entrance Hollister and Chee would certainly be spotted, then all bets would be off.

“Shaniah,” he said. “Can you see anyone inside there? Is there any way for you to tell if there is someone near the entrance who might see us?”

She peered through the telescope for several seconds. Her eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell were superior to his. As near as she could tell, there was no one close to the entrance.

“I don’t see or hear anyone,” she said.

“All right, we’ve got to move it anyway,” Hollister said. “Let’s go, Chee.”

With as much stealth as they could muster, they rolled the cart toward the small building. There was no door left in the frame, so they pushed the cart right inside. Part of the wall facing the mine entrance had collapsed, an unbelievably lucky advantage as it gave the Gatling a wide and open field of fire yet a level of concealment. It would do the same for the Fire Shooters. Hollister took one of the cases of dynamite and a pouch full of ammo for the Henry and hefted them over his shoulder.

“This is it, Sergeant,” he said. “Make every shot count.”

“Yes, sir,” Chee said. Hollister scratched Dog on the ears. This time the giant beast didn’t growl or pull away.

“Well, look at that,” Hollister said. “I’m probably going to die in ten minutes and now he decides he likes me.”

“He’s very particular,” Chee said. “I think you’ve grown on him.”

Again, Hollister couldn’t tell if Chee was joking or not. And it was getting damned annoying.

“Sergeant, if we survive this, I swear to God, I’m going to figure you out. And your damn Dog too,” Hollister said.

“I doubt it, sir,” Chee said.

And then he smiled.

Shaniah was waiting for him in the other building. He set the dynamite near the window and pried off the lid. He checked the load on his Henry and leaned it against the wall next to the window. The Ass-Kicker was charged, the gauges on the Fire Shooter showed full. He was ready.