Coyotes & Curves (4 page)

~

The strained moment is broken by the entrance of the Mayor of Rock Ridge, Alistair Finklestein; who stumbles in with his arms full of papers, some dropping to the floor as he tries to close the door, juggle papers and push his slipping round wire rimmed glasses upon his nose at the same time – even his human form looks like a weasel. “Gentlemen-gentlemen, sorry I’m late,” he stutters as he makes his way to the desk in front of Red; who watches in disgust, with the others at the obviously nervous man. He knows, what he’s been doing is wrong; and he wishes he had never gotten involved.
Should have left with Martha, when I had chance
, he cries to himself at night; knowing by now, she’s already made it back to Chicago and the comforts of her family. But he was afraid to leave – they’d have found him – He knows too much. Might start running his mouth; lest word get back to the elder shifters in the old countries, on what they’re trying to do here.

Looking around the room, Alistair knows… he should have left with his wife.

“Are they all there?” Kearney, questions roughly; the patience all but gone from his voice.

“Yes-yes they are,” Alistair mumbles, shuffling the stack of signed deeds; holding claim to all of the high producing mines of the area.

Red and his crew, along with Alistair, have managed to run off and kill most of the miners from their claims; supplementing them with shifter workers sent in from Washington, and now under the control of Kearney and the military.
Government controlled mines; providing an endless supply of money for the New World Order
.

“Let me see those,” the major commands; grabbing a handful of deeds. “Get out of my way,” he growls, pushing Alistair; who falls to the ground. There is no attempt on his part to rise; he remains still, lying on his side looking up at the major, who scans one paper after another.

“Good…Good…I like what I’m seeing,” he offers, smiling; and easing the tension of the room. He pauses, before looking down at the cowering mayor. “But I don’t like you,” he says, his smile removed.

“What, what do mean?” Alistair whimpers, beginning to crawl slowly away; with Kearney following.

“Where’d your wife go, Mayor?” he questions, following the man who wiggles away.

“She went on vacation,” he answers swiftly.

“No vacation,” Kearney advises, shaking his head and grinning. His shifting snout appears, and growls; while beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“No…You didn’t…you couldn’t have,” he whispers with the realization of the majors words.

“Couldn’t I,” Kearney responds, removing his shirt and handing it to his lieutenant; who takes the shirt with wide smile, knowing the man is doomed and there will be blood. The major had made it clear to everyone that no one was to leave, until he said it was okay to do so. “I told you, no one was to leave.”

“She just wanted to go see her folks! A little vacation, that’s all. I swear!” he screams, seeing the major turn. His badger form is huge and thick, with overly large muscle hulking out his form. In an instant, he’s on the man, ripping out his throat and gorging at his torso with razor sharp claws –and as the whole room watches in silence—the man is devoured.

For several minutes the only sound in the rooms is the blood curdling screams of the mayor and the sloshy chomping bites from the major as he consumes the man; leaving a partially eaten corpse lying on the bloody floor.

Kearney’s human form returns; kneeling over the dead man, panting and chewing, and wiping at his face trying to remove the blood.

“Well, that is that,” the major states, standing up and reaching for his shirt. “We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the mess,” Red adds; not pleased that he’ll have to not only clean the place; but explain to the regular townspeople what the hell happened to their mayor.
Sorry son of a bitch won’t be missed anyway.

“That’s it, then,” Kearney states; knowing the easy part is done, and that it’s time to focus on the Indians. “I’ll take these.” The deeds are stuffed into his unbuttoned shirt; which he continues to dress and tuck into his trousers. Blood still covers the thick bald head of the man as he turns for the door. “We’ll meet you and your men tomorrow night, just south of the bluffs overlooking the redskin’s camp.”

The lieutenant opens the door for Kearney who stops abruptly. “Oh, and make sure you guys show up – Don’t be going on…vacation or anything!” He laughs as he exits, slamming the door shut.

The stranger, Danny, and Old Bob watch from the boardwalk as the two officers mount their horses; and with an order from the major, ride away in a cloud of choking dust.

“You three, get in here!” Red’s guttural roar shakes the thin glass; and the three men move inside, joining him and Jasper who is throwing using a burlap bag; wiping the bloody floor under boot; before kicking it over the remains of the corpse.

“Eeew, Jesus. The Major done et’em,” Bob, sneers before giggling lightly through a crooked smile.

“Yeah – and you three can finish him up,” Red offers; just wanting the carcass, removed.

“Sure thing, boss,” Old Bob, answers without hesitation; and his large body drops to the floor over the half devoured body, tossing the sack aside and smiling. “Don’t ya’ll want some?” he asks, offering up some guts.

“Sure – I like me some weasel,” Danny accepts, tossing off his hat and untying his neckerchief, before joining in.

“What about you?” Red sneers, with a nod of his head from the stranger to the dining pair of coyotes. “You want some?”

“Naw – I’m good. You boys enjoy. I’m kind of partial to buffalo, myself,” the stranger remarks. “Think I’ll head over to the saloon and get me a plate,” he says, with a wink, “and maybe something to wash this taste of the trail out of my mouth,” he finishes with a smile as he tucks a long strand of hair behind an ear; before pulling down the front of his hat and dismissing himself, “See you gents in a bit.” His stroll is slow, and his movements deliberate.

“Yeah…buffalo,” Red speaks softly, deep in thought as he watches the stranger walking down the boardwalk on his way to the saloon on the far side of the street. It sits a few buildings down; where a small group of restless cowboys and a couple anxious miners are already beginning to congregate out front, ready to drink with the setting of the sun – It’s also time for Red to make his own departure for his early evening rounds of the town and its activities; and of course, his own nightly visit to the Red Star–and the lovely, Miss Jessica Lilly. But, first he needs to get the boys on task.

“Bob…you and Danny can have the night off. Go get you something fresh to eat; but be back by sunrise.” He’s feeling generous; and he’s pretty sure everyone is going to need all the extra energy they can muster, over the next few days.

“Oh gee, Red; thanks!” Danny yells out, exasperated by the thought of actually being allowed to roam in form freely…It’s a whole different world; and to be able to finish it off with a good stalk and a fresh kill – the young shifter can nearly contain his self, as he and the old gimp, quickly make for the door.

“Be careful; and don’t get yourselves shot!”

“We will, we will,” Bob assures, scurrying behind the youngster; who blocks the exit –listening to Red’s parting words, while shaking his head in acknowledgment.

“Keep an eye on the kid,” Red charges the old man, “And, Bob…lay of the peyote; that shit’s gonna kill you one day.”

“Sure thing, boss,” he assures; and the two men are gone in an instant.

“What about me, boss?” Jasper asks, envious of the other two men, but loyal to his superior.

“I want you to keep an eye on the new guy… Just hang close to him. Make sure he’s not the law or anything stupid. That’d be just like you three; to let a damn marshal pack in with ya’.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that – he ain’t no lawman – that’s for sure.”

“What makes you so certain, brain?” Red jokes –knowing Jasper has never really ever been certain about anything, except that of following Red, till he dies.

“Cause I seen him kill a man…So did you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“When we was in Abilene – just after the war – he was the one who shot July Lipton in front of the cantina that night.”

Red pauses, in thought – it was a few years back, but damned if Jasper wasn’t right – The stranger’s hair is longer now – well over his shoulders – and he had one of those curled up, handlebar mustaches back then; but sure enough, it was him. It kind of makes him feel a little easier about the man; especially, the fact that he had dispatched of that turd, July Lipton. July was from a small town in Missouri, just north of Independence. He was raised by an uncle, who was known thief and liar; and had the boy swindling western bound pioneers at the young age of ten years old. When the war broke out, he became a Northern sympathizer, when most of the state was joining with the South; and he made a living as a scout, showing the Northern troops hidden trails through the southern parts of the state and the areas to the west. He was known for the outright and unjustified killing of hundreds of Indians while marauding with the soldiers – leading them to hidden tribal grounds he was introduced to while trading with the natives before the war. He was a dirty rapist, murderer; and no one was ever sad to see him go. They couldn’t even raise the money to bury the man. The undertaken, himself, ended up paying the two dollar fee, just to have the body removed; after it had lied in front of his place of business for two days rotting in the sun. So he killed him, anyway. That’s a good thing.

“Just keep an eye on him.”

“Will do, Red – see ya’ in a bit.”

~

There are times when a man just needs to be alone; and Sunset is that time for Red.

You can feel the change come over the land as it happens – There’s a moment when everyone and everything is in a period of change – Like the short moment between the changing tides – when all is still – a
slack tide
of the land. It’s at this time, that if one is still in mind; they can hear the words of the ancients; and the stories of the land.

After walking the length of the town, Red stands alone, a large silhouette looking east into the setting sun. The day was long and he has a lot to think about. The princess, the buffalo, Kearney, Council; things are definitely getting ready to heat up.

He needs to feed. His body is weak and he’s going to need the energy. He had spied an unfortunate soul stumbling drunk towards the river, who looked ripe for the picking. He discards his hat and clothes while walking into the dried brush surrounding the outskirts of town, where he disappears from view.

The town of Rock Ridge may be small, but The Red Star Hotel & Saloon rivals anything Kansas City or Denver has to offer; and the entertainment is every bit as magical; featuring the most beautiful, and voluptuous Miss Jessica Lily.

Miss Jessica came from the Confederate state of Louisiana. She grew up in New Orleans; where she dreamed of being a star. She’s the only daughter of Bertram Lily, a popular theatre composer and pianist. The girl was raised by her parents in a theatrical world of colorful dress and beautiful music; leaving her with a very enriched and cultured background. When her parents passed away during the cholera epidemic of 54’; she found herself alone at the tender age of twenty one, and having to support herself. She quickly found that trying to make a career from singing and acting in New Orleans was getting her nowhere; and if she really wanted to obtain her dream she needed to go to New York or San Francisco – she chose the West, having made it as far as Rock Ridge; before she met him.

Red Star Hotel & Saloon

The Saloon is the closest thing to a coven that Red’s small band of shifters have. It’s known throughout the plains more as an active den for the many roaming bands of the
high plains shifters
seeking sanctuary, or general information. The saloon itself has been noted upon a national coven registry; however the word,
none
, is listed as the affiliation and leader status – recognizing it to be as wild as the land it occupies.

A thick layer of smoke hovers over the open-aired room of the large saloon, and Blinky Joe pounds endlessly upon the keys of the up-right music box. He’ll be the only entertainment for the rest of the night – The beautiful Miss Jessica Lily finished her show earlier in the evening; before the drunken rowdiness began. She now waits perched upon a burgundy mohair sofa, resting at the bottom of the stairs; awaiting the arrival of her man.

The floor above runs the length of the room; and several brightly dressed whores and saloon girls adorn the balcony; seducing the wild hordes of cowboys, miners, and gentlemen alike. The bar is standing room only, and every table is full to capacity; leaving men and women, milling about the room looking for a little late night loving, and Miss Jessica takes it all in through watchful eyes.

Red had returned today – after being gone for three days – leaving her alone, and her body aching for his return. She doesn’t like it when he’s gone – the town isn’t the same. It’s scary and lonely; with lawlessness out of control – like tonight. She smiles and twists a lock of hair impatiently waiting.

Her presence is stunning and her face aglow; with raven hair contrasting the porcelain colored skin of her round face. A gorgeous corset of red silk is pulled tight around her body, and her ample breasts find lofty purchase, exposing alabaster skin for all to see and admire. A feather boa, of matching color, encompasses her neck along with a strand of white pearls; being circled slowly through her fingers as she watches the crowded room. Men have spared no expense to be in her company; adorning her with money and gifts – especially, Red – himself having provided the black stockings caressing the silken flesh of her full figured legs… sure to be used in tying her to the bed, upon his return…