The Madness of Cthulhu Anthology (Volume One): 1 (31 page)

Shooter, the one Big Willie had said was educated, was tall and somewhat thin. He didn’t seem all that smart, but like the others he certainly could shoot. He’d shot two of the men with her, right between the eyes. They’d been on either side of her, but no bullet had come near her. Big Willie had wanted her alive.

Jimbo was the youngest and the best looking. Since she was going to be riding with him, Halla chose to focus on his blond hair and blue eyes, how he looked handsome and rather sweet. She knew he wasn’t—no one riding in this gang was a nice person who’d just somehow gone wrong. They’d all gone wrong willingly and with great enthusiasm.

There were seven of them in total. Two of these were brothers, Jed and Ted. They’d been drovers before they hooked up with Big Willie. Neither were overly bright, but they made up for it by being very good at mayhem. She’d watched them tear down three buildings with their bare hands, whooping and hollering the whole time.

The last was a Chinaman, called Lee. She didn’t think it was his real name, just what Big Willie had chosen to call him. At first she’d thought that Lee had been forced into servitude, but after she’d seen him slice three women in half, she knew better. He’d laughed and smiled when he slashed those women in two and then had laughed when he’d lopped off their crying children’s heads. And he’d enjoyed it all.

They all enjoyed it, the violence. More than the money or the power, they just enjoyed destroying things.

They were perfect.

* * *

They rode into the foothills at a trot. Jim had the girl in front of him, in part because it was smarter, in case she tried to escape, but mostly because he could wrap his arm around her waist.

She didn’t resist him, but she didn’t really lean into him either. But then, it wasn’t going to be her choice, but Big Willie’s, as to when she became a different kind of hostage.

But, Jim tried to make conversation anyway. “What were you doing with the Dawson Gang?”

“Helping them.”

“Do what?”

She shifted in the saddle, but Jim didn’t mind—it moved her closer into him. She was dressed in light brown pants and a loose-fitting blue shirt, so she was riding facing front, not to the side. Some of her hair flew into his face; it smelled of sage and smoke. “They always hide out … hid out,” she corrected, “with us. Lots of gangs used our town as a safe place. No one else destroyed it.”

“Big Willie don’t like to leave tracks.”

She snorted. “How can killing every person and burning a place to the ground
not
leave a track?”

“You said it yourself. No law’s going there. It tells the other gangs that they gotta find someplace new.”

“Why? Why not leave it so you all could use it again, too?” Halla didn’t sound angry, just curious.

Jim shrugged. “Don’t know. Ask Big Willie.”

“Maybe I will.”

Big Willie pulled up and turned his horse, to look back the way they’d come. “Everyone can dismount for a few minutes, give the horses a rest. Take a look, though, Shooter, just in case.”

Jim got off and offered to help the girl down. She gave him that odd smile of hers and then jumped off the horse’s back to land lightly on her feet. Her leather boots went up to her knees but for a moment, while she was in the air, Jim thought they looked more like animal’s hooves. He shook his head and Halla smiled again. Jim realized she was making him nervous.

Shooter pulled his rifle out of the sling and looked through the sight. He took his time. “Something’s coming, far off, but enough to make dust.”

“Cavalry?” Big Willie asked.

“Can’t say, too far away. It’s not to that town yet.” Shooter lowered the rifle. “But it’ll be there soon enough. Gotta figure they’ll follow us. And we didn’t take care with our tracks.”

“They can’t follow us if we’re going into the mountains,” Halla said.

Big Willie gave her another long look. “You’re sure keen to get us up in there. What, you got an Apache tribe waitin’ to take us?”

Halla laughed. “No, though there are many tribes within the mountains. I want to get to my father. He will give you shelter, for bringing me to him. And because of what he guards, the path to him is very tricky. I and a few others know it. But if you don’t travel with one of us as your guide, you will not find the way.”

“What’s he guarding?” Big Willie asked.

“I will tell you when we are within the mountains.”

“You’re not in a position to bargain, girl,” Big Willie reminded her.

“True, but neither are you. You have something coming after you.” Her eyes got glassy and almost seemed to glow. Jim felt the chill go up his spine again. “The hounds of hell are coming.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Jed muttered.

“No such things as hellhounds,” Shooter said dismissively. But he was looking at Halla’s eyes, and his looked worried.

“Just an Apache way of saying cavalry,” Big Willie said with what almost sounded like cheer. “Fine. We’ll go into your mountains. Jimbo, you and our little lady lead the way.”

Jim wasn’t used to Big Willie treating anyone, particularly a woman, with this much chivalry. It made him almost as uneasy as Halla’s eyes.

She mounted up without help. Jim watched, but her boots looked normal. “The two brothers should bring up the rear,” she suggested, looking at Big Willie.

He gave her a long look. “Why so?”

“It’s where they belong,” she replied.

Jim’s eyes flicked back and forth between hers and Big Willie’s. They seemed to be talking to each other without words. He wondered if Big Willie was maybe falling for this girl.

“Fine,” Big Willie said finally. “You’re the guide, now.”

* * *

They moved into the mountains proper faster than Jim had thought they would. Big Willie was behind them, with Shooter, Hefé, and Lee behind him, and Jed and Ted bringing up the rear, as requested. Jim didn’t like it, didn’t like that Big Willie was doing what the girl wanted, but it wasn’t his place to argue.

They couldn’t move too quickly—most of what Halla called a trail was rocky, and steeper than Jim thought right, and it was difficult for the horses. It got dark fast, too. They’d sacked the town that morning and had hit the foothills by mid-afternoon. It was dusk by the time they were getting onto Halla’s trail.

“You want to stop soon?” Big Willie called up to her.

“No. It’s the full moon tonight. We’ll have light. Besides, the horses can see even if you all cannot.” Her voice bounced off the rocks and sounded eerie to Jim.

They rode on for another hour and then came to what Jim could admit was a fork in the trail. The right fork seemed like a clearer trail, wider, too. The left one was worse than what they’d just gone over.

“We go left,” Halla told him.

“I knew you were gonna say that,” Jim sighed. “Look, what’s wrong with the better path?”

“It does not lead where we need to go,” she replied. “It will take us to some tribes who will not welcome you as my father will.”

“She’s the guide,” Big Willie said, his voice annoyed. “Jimbo, stop arguing about a few rocks.”

Jim shut up, but his throat felt dry. He clucked to his horse and they started off, more slowly than before.

They followed this so-called path for another quarter of an hour, and then came to what appeared to be sheer rock. “Trail’s dead,” Jim called back.

“No, it’s not,” Halla said, sounding amused.

“It’s a wall of rock,” Jim argued. “There’s nowhere to go but back, not that I think we can.”

Halla sighed and kicked at the horse. It went forward without a fuss. When they were almost right at the wall of rock, Halla sang, a wordless tune, but it was high-pitched and eerie.

“That’s pretty,” Big Willie called. “What’s it for?”

“Entry,” she called back. “Keep the horses moving forward.” She looked over her shoulder at Jim. “Especially you.”

He gritted his teeth, but kicked at the horse. It didn’t buck or shy away, it just plodded through the rock. It felt thick, but not hard, as if they were moving through molasses. The air smelled different—less like sage and mesquite and dust and more like water and mold and damp earth. As they passed through, Jim thought he heard Halla mutter under her breath, but all he could catch was something that sounded like “first to.”

“Yeah, we’re the first to go through a wall of rock,” he muttered back.

“No, we’re not. It’s an illusion,” she added. “We need to move forward so the others can pass through as well.”

Jim didn’t argue, just moved further down the path. It was wider and far less rocky now. They got far enough in that the others would all be able to join them, and then he stopped the horse and waited.

* * *

The others came through the wall of rock. Everyone seemed a little spooked, but the horses were calm.

While they were waiting, Jim took the time to look around. The path was not only wider, it no longer seemed as if they were outdoors. The walls of rock on either side went far up. He looked to see if he could tell where they ended, but all he saw after a few feet was inky darkness.

“Where’s the moon?” he muttered.

“Still out,” Halla replied. “However, this portion of the path will hide it from us.”

“So how come I can still see?”

Halla chuckled. “There is a form of mold that grows on the walls. It glows.”

Jim looked more closely at the walls. He could see the mold now. It seemed to grow in straight lines, though these crisscrossed in different patterns. As he looked at the images, he felt the chill go up his spine again, though he couldn’t say why. “These mean anything?”

Halla didn’t answer his question. “The others are through, let’s keep going.”

Big Willie moved his horse next to them. “We’ll go double for a while.”

“As you wish,” Halla said.

Jed and Ted were complaining about something; Jim could hear their voices echoing strangely in this area. Big Willie could as well. “What’re you two whining about now?” he called back.

“I don’t like it in here,” Jed complained. “We wanna go back.”

“I heard something when I was coming through,
patron
,” Hefé added. “Sounded like hooves.”

“I’m going back,” Ted said. Jim turned to see Ted spin his horse around. But the animal wouldn’t go forward. Ted kept on kicking at the horse, but it wouldn’t budge. Finally, he dismounted and tried to lead the horse through. “Damn it!” Ted shouted, as he slammed his face into what was now solid rock. He started kicking the rock.

“The door is closed,” Halla said to Big Willie. “And you should be grateful. There are enemies out there. The tribes who we could reach on the other path, they guard this area and they do not allow trespassers to leave alive.”

“Stop it!” Big Willie thundered, as Jed got off his horse and started banging on the rock with his brother. “Both of you, mount up, shut up, and keep on moving.” He shook his head. “Don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“Weak men frighten easily,” Halla said.

“True enough,” Big Willie said with disgust. “Let’s get a move on.”

They started forward, Jed and Ted bringing up the rear, riding together. Hefé, Shooter, and Lee were in front of them, but still riding single file.

The horses’ hooves sounded odd in here, as if they were hitting on metal instead of rock. Jim thought he heard other sounds, too. Sounds almost like laughter, but not real, human laughter. High-pitched, so high he didn’t think anyone else would notice. Big Willie always said Jim had a dog’s hearing.

“What’s that noise?” he asked Halla quietly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied calmly.

Jim decided not to press her; if he tried, he could just manage to ignore the sounds of the eerie non-human laughter and metallic clang of the horses’ hooves. To help himself not listen, he looked at the walls of rock on either side of them. The lines of moss were definitely regular, and as he concentrated on them, he could make out a pattern. He didn’t understand the symbols, but they made his stomach clench. As he looked at them, they seemed to move, almost as if they were alive. Jim forced his eyes forward.

They moved along the trail, still going up, but now winding in an odd way, not a natural way water or animals moved. “What made this trail?” Jim asked her, still keeping his voice low. “I know it wasn’t natural.”

“My father’s people.” Halla looked up over her shoulder at him. “Are you afraid?” She was amused, he could tell.

“No,” he lied. “Not at all. It’s just different.”

She gave him her odd smile. “Very true.”

They rounded a sharp corner. Jim heard new sounds, still high-pitched and seeming to come from up above. It sounded like claws being dragged across rock. He looked up, but all he could see was the inky darkness punctuated by the glowing moss lines.

Jim looked behind them. Hefé and Shooter were still on the trail, then Lee rounded the corner. As they moved on, Jim was still looking, but neither Jed nor Ted came around the bend.

“We got a problem,” he told Big Willie. “Jed and Ted must have turned back.”

Big Willie pulled his horse up with a disgusted sigh. “Well, someone needs to go bring those boys back.”

Before anyone could reply to this, a man’s shriek, loud and terrified, echoed along the trail. It was cut short, and then there was no other noise. They all froze.

“What the hell was that?” Big Willie asked.

“Sounded like Ted,” Shooter said, his voice shaking.

“Should … should we go look for them?” Jim asked.

Big Willie opened his mouth to answer, but before the words came out, Jed and Ted’s horses came trotting along the path. Halla slipped out of the saddle before Jim could stop her, moving through their ragged line and to the back. Both riderless horses trotted right to her. She stroked their heads and picked up their reins. Then she mounted one and, leading the other, moved up to where Jim and Big Willie were.

“The trail is more treacherous than you realize,” she said crisply. “As it was with the entryway, there are points here where it appears to be solid rock along the sides but it is not, and one of those points is just before the last bend in the trail. The other two must have been careless making the turn and fallen out of their saddles. There are many sharp rocks below—I’m sure we can do nothing to help them.”