Peacemaker

Chapter 15

The old man, who introduced himself as Gentle Storm, told me that they had tried to send some warriors to handle this evil plaguing their tribe. Only to never hear from them again. I knew this was going to be a struggle in my weakened state, but I still couldn't say no. 

So, I returned my buffalo rifle to its scabbard on the saddle before mounting up and headed out into the high desert. With every bump and movement from Abel's gait, I could feel the broadheads still in my back scrape bone and cause bolts of pain to shoot throughout my back. making the entire ride miserable physically. Mentally, I was still dealing with my existential conundrum. It aggravated me still, knowing everything I had done had been for absolutely nothing. 

Part of me wanted to just drop everything, say to hell with the demands expected of me and face the consequences. But, I soon did away with the thought. The risk was too high for both Fira and I if I didn't carry out the role. I didn't know if they'd just say to hell with me and leave me to my devices, or if they'd hunt the two of us down. That was something I couldn't risk. 

As I rode lost in the quagmires of my mind, I barely registered the change in terrain. The cedar trees opened up to windswept and sandy expanses, short shoots of grass shot up from the grown, dry and brown from the lack of water. Overhead the clouds gave the false promise of rain, even my nose fell for the lie. Even when I rode, feeling an invisible line draw me towards the hills and mesas looming on the western horizon. Even as the wind whipped Abel and I, making it seem more like the weather was about to make good on its word, I kept my eyes focused on the hills ahead through teary and dry eyes, boulders and eons of rockslides painted its face. Some covered the entrance to a cave burrowed into the sandstone. My gut told me that was where my target was, and my instincts screamed. I steered Abel into the stand of boulders, and dismounted. Again, as I climbed down from the saddle I growled. The arrowheads shifted, and I could feel the meat of my back shred as the barbs moved around. I bit down on the pain the two small blades in my back caused, making myself focus on the mouth of the cave. 

I drew my rifle from its scabbard and worked the lever, feeling its weight as I walked up to the blackness in the hillside. That's when I saw the remains. Animals and men alike. Some had tomahawks and snapped bows still in their grips. While others bore what looked like old conquistador armor. Their swords and muskets were covered in rust and dirt. Deer, coyote, and even livestock bones were scattered across the dirt. As I walked up to the mouth, I could feel that telltale heaviness. Affirming that I was definitely in the right place. I considered grabbing a sword and maybe one of the old chest pieces from the skeletons seeing as my ammunition stocks were beginning to dwindle to my last few full loads, but I decided against it. It was the 19th century, after all. Instead, I took a tomahawk from one of the other corpses and slipped it into my belt. I took a deep breath and stepped into the cavern. I was expecting the smell of moisture, dirt, and rot. Instead, I could smell smoke and see a faint glow bouncing off the sandstone walls. And thanks to the light, shadows danced but then disappeared, and then reappeared before fading again. 

Even through the warmth of the campfire heating the cave, the air felt frigid. Through the smoke, I could smell the sickly sweet scent of meat roasting. I felt my grip tighten around the rifle in my hand and crept forward. Managing every step to muffle the ring of my spurs, I edged around a boulder and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Effigies built from various carcasses sat at five points around a large fire, making it clear that the piles of bones out at the mouth of the cave were far from their most recent quarry. At the center sat a fire, large and half wild, while the shadows danced with the light unnaturally. 

My eyes followed several shapes as they seemed to go against the flow of shadows. Some seemed more animalistic, while others sat formless. I could hear them speaking, but the language didn't sound familiar. On top of it all, my ears felt like they were gonna begin bleeding just from the harsh cacophony that seemed to come from all around me. Finally, the noise stopped, and just as the cavern grew silent the fire erupted, engulfing all five of the effigies. 

I ducked behind the boulder, my face felt like it was about to melt off from the heat. When I peered back around the corner, the effigies were gone. Reduced to nothing but smoldering frames. Even the shadows seemed to match a natural flow, but some part of me screamed to be on guard. The hairs stood on the back of my neck as I walked around my sandstone bastion, watching every single shadow as I continued my slow advance toward the fire. Just as I went to turn my focus to a charcoal line drawn on the sandstone floor, I was sent tumbling forward, across the line. It felt like the arrowheads in my back ignited. I let out a howl, scrambling to my feet and whirred around. 

There before me sat roughly six indigenous men, or what looked like men on the outside.They were as naked as the day they were born, aside from various pelts draped on their backs that seemed to bristle like a posturing hound. Behind their eyes I couldn't see anything that resembled a soul. Like it had been ripped from their bodies, leaving nothing but some savage animal in human skin. Their teeth were crooked and jagged as they bared their black gums. Their hair wild and unkempt, long enough to reach their lower back. Their fingers seemed to sprout from their hands from uneven angles, akin to if they had been broken in several places. Of course, they growled and snapped like a pack of wolves as they encircled me. I felt a tendril of fear work its way in as I swung my rifle up, trying to draw a bead down on the nearest one. Just as I did, I was knocked forward. I could feel teeth digging into my back, and the fingers scraping for purchase. Falling to the ground, I tried to get the damned thing to let go. I felt it loosen its grip slightly, and I seized the moment. I twisted hard as I rolled onto my stomach. Feeling its teeth still buried in my back free themselves from the creature's mouth. Still half blinded by pain, I got back to my feet. I knew I had to get out of there. It was entirely too tight to fight in there, and something tipped me off to how these things fought. I tried to bolt for the mouth of the cave, but was cut off by two of those things. Again, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and something told me to duck. So I did, and felt air rush past me as one of them flew over me, its fingers barely missing the collar of my jacket. 

Finally, I regained myself. Burying the fear as I dropped my rifle at my feet. It was useless to me in such tight spaces, anyway. I pulled the tomahawk from my belt just as another came from my left, but I was ready. Swinging upwards, I felt the head of the tomahawk hit the flesh on its belly and glide clean through until it hit its sternum. I was expecting a crimson river, but instead the telltale black ichor spilled out. 

I knew then, this was  like no other task. That fear never would've set in if I had known this earlier. "C'mon!" I roared through agonizing pain and shortness of breath. Instead of turning and scattering back into the still dancing shadows of the cavern like I had hoped they would, They all set upon me. A swarm of gnashing, jagged teeth and grasping crooked fingers. 

I just let my instincts take over, moving like the river not far from home. One would collide and in turn I would step opposite. Swinging again as I did so. Before long, I had cut down three more before I found myself staring down the last two. My already wounded body was falling apart, my arms throbbed and my back felt like it was soaked with kerosene and lit on fire. The warm, stickiness of my blood made my shirt cling to my back. My lungs burned as I breathed ragged through gritted teeth. The smoke from the fire didn't help. As I watched the two circle me, I drew one of my pistols. 

I pushed myself too far, and I knew it. I should've rested. Took some time to get back on my feet. But I backed myself into a corner this time.