but it sounded like a woman. It was a long, eerie wail, more like anguish than alarm, and Chee and Hollister moved quickly, rushing back out into the street, standing back to back, circling slowly with rifles at the ready. It was quiet again.
“You got any idea where that came from?” Hollister asked.
“No, sir, none,” Chee said.
“You don’t have some kind of fancy shaman way of figuring it out?”
“I’m not a shaman, sir,” Chee said, embarrassment creeping into his voice.
“Sergeant Chee, I meant no offense. But you do talk to your horse and your dog. I just figured you had a way of sensing this kind of stuff. All right. We’re going to have to do this the hard way. It sounded to me like the scream came from a ways off. We’ll start at the end of this side of Second Street. We’ll clear the buildings one by one and work our way back. We’ve got maybe an hour to sundown. Quick and careful. Let’s go.”
Chee had no other suggestion, so they began their search starting at the end of the street and entering the last building, where the board sidewalk ended. Hollister studied the building itself while Chee kept an eye on the street behind them. It was getting late and the sun was balanced at the top of the mountains to the west.
The first building appeared to be some kind of laundry. It was empty, as was the next and all the buildings on that side of the street. There were no people to be found, not even bodies, but all the signs said the residents of Absolution had left with little warning or preparation. In the back of the laundry a meal had been left to burn on the cookstove, though the fire had long since burned out. Everywhere they went, there was evidence of life interrupted. Dish tubs filled with dirty dishes, pots left on stoves, uneaten meals left on dinner tables.
It took another half hour for them to clear all the buildings on Second Street. Turning their attention to First Street, they headed toward the building with the “office” sign. Upon closer inspection, they discovered the sign had been broken in half, and upon entering, learned they had found the sheriff’s office. And it wasn’t empty.
Standing there, letting their eyes adjust to dim interior, they heard muffled voices and cries coming from the back. Carefully they made their way to the door and threw it open.
Neither man was prepared for what they saw. Four cells with iron bars lined the back wall of the jail. Inside the cells were several children and women. When they saw Hollister and Chee, they started to cry and scream. The women-there were seven of them divided among the four cells-moved to put the children behind them, out of reach of anyone who might try to grab them through the bars. Each cell door was wrapped with rope and chain as if someone had sought to make sure no one could get out.
Or in.
“Get away from us, you devils,” one of the women shouted, shaking her fist at the two men. All of them took up the chorus then, shouting and even cursing at Hollister and Chee.
“Quiet!” Hollister shouted. “We’re not devils, we’re here to help you!”
His words had no effect. They kept shouting and waving their arms. Some of the small children started crying. It was dank and cramped and smelled horrible, and Hollister, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what they were doing here.
“Hold it… calm down… stop shouting!” he yelled. After a few moments the fire went out of them and the women stood looking exhausted and defeated while a few of the children continued to moan and cry. The smell hit him then, the harsh and gamey odor of human beings forced to live in conditions like this.
“My God,” he said. “What happened to you?”
The woman in the first cell who had led the yelling when they first appeared crossed her arms and stared defiantly at Hollister.
“We’ll tell you nothing, you demon,” she said.
“Ma’am, I don’t know yet what’s going on here, but I’m no demon. My name is Jonas Hollister, a U.S. marshal, and I’m here to help,” he said.
Everyone in the cells was quiet for a moment as if they couldn’t understand what he was telling them.
The woman brushed her long red hair out of her eyes and stared back at both men.
“Liar! You’re demons! And we’ll see you in hell before we open these doors…”
The red-haired woman occupied the first cell along with four children. In the next cell, a small older woman spoke to her.
“Rebecca. They don’t look like the others. Maybe we should talk to them and-”
“No!” Rebecca shouted back. “There’s nothing to say. We can last two more days until the train comes. Then we’ll be free of these demons. Help will come. You’ll see.”
Chee stepped forward, lowering his gun. When he spoke, Hollister almost had to strain to hear him.
“Ma’am… ladies… I’m Sergeant Chee. The marshal here is telling you the truth. We’re here to help you. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Demon!” Rebecca shouted and spat at him, but she could not garner much energy for it.
Hollister counted fourteen children in addition to the seven women: three boys and eleven girls. None of the youngsters appeared to be older than nine or ten years old. All of them looked dirty, hungry, and terrified.
“Rebecca, stop that! If they are demons, they can’t get to us. Let’s hear what the man has to say,” the old woman from the second cell said.
“What is your name, ma’am?” Chee asked the older woman.
“Lucinda Hayes. We’ve been in these cells four days now. We’re waiting for the train, like Rebecca said. These demons… they come at night. But they ain’t been able to get to us. The men… my husband… the sheriff and a few others… they locked us in here after the first night. Said we’d be safer and they’d try to hold them off. The demons cut the telegraph lines and there weren’t no way to get help-until the train shows up day after tomorrow.”
“Well we’re going to try to get you out of here,” Hollister said.
“That’s all right, mister,” Lucinda said. “We got enough water to wait. The children are hungry though…” Her words trailed off and she stared at Hollister and Chee with a glassy-eyed and vacant expression.
“I don’t understand… Chee, see if you can get these chains off the doors and…” He stopped when Lucinda raised a Colt from the folds of her skirt and pointed it at Hollister’s chest.
“Mister, I don’t wanna shoot you but I will if you come anywhere near them doors,” she said. The Colt was huge in her tiny hands but she held it straight and steady. Chee had his rifle up and pointed at her chest.
“Hold on, Chee!” Hollister said. “Ma’am, I think we all need to take a step back here. Don’t shoot. We won’t touch the doors or these chains until we figure things out.” He raised his hands to the sides and stepped back from the cells.
“I am sorry, sir, but if you come any closer, I will shoot you. We know now it doesn’t seem to kill you, but apparently it hurts your kind. Quite a bit. And we have plenty of ammunition, in case you were wonderin’…” She pulled a box of bullets from the pocket of her dress.
Chee lowered his weapon and stepped back next to the wall opposite the cells.
Hollister paced in the tight hallway. Some of the children took up whimpering again, his presence clearly terrifying them. He was stuck and didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave them here, and his instincts told him they were all in grave danger.
Each of the cells had a barred window on the back wall. The daylight was receding by the minute and the interior of the jail had grown noticeably dimmer, even in the few minutes since he and Chee had entered.
The sunlight.
“Ma’am,” he said. “These demons as you call them? Have they been coming after you at all during the day?”
Lucinda lowered the Colt slightly but nowhere near all the way.
“Why… no… only at night,” she said.
“Well we walked in here during the daylight. You must have at least heard our train arriver earlier this afternoon. No one came to greet it. I’m sorry to tell you, but that means either your men are
… dead… or holed up somewhere else in town like you are. But Chee and I, we’ve been here in the daylight for a while now. Doesn’t that show you we’re not one of these demons?”
Hollister waited. Lucinda kept the gun on him while Chee kept his rifle pointed at her. A shadow passed over the window, darkening the spot of sunlight on the cell floor. The children screamed.
“They’re back!” Rebecca wailed.
“Who’s back?” Hollister asked.
