“The demons, Marshal,” Lucinda said quietly.
A face appeared in the cell window, not human at all, with red eyes and long white teeth. The creature it belonged to made a wild moaning sound, as if it was in pain. Hollister knew the sound: hunger.
Lucinda aimed at the thing, firing the big Colt. She missed but the face disappeared.
“God help us,” Rebecca cried again.
Nothing happened for a second, until a chain came through the window. Hands wrapped the chain around the bars and it went taut. At first there was no effect, then the bars made popping sounds and the mortar around them started to crack. One of the bars came free, and the children and women went nearly wild with fright. Rebecca and a few of the other women had fallen to their knees, clasping their hands in prayer.
“Get up, you fools,” Lucinda yelled at them. “Children, get behind me. You other women stand up! Protect your children! If you are going to die, you will die fighting!”
In the chaos of the moment, Hollister decided that he liked this Lucinda an awful lot. Even if she had threatened to kill him. The children in her cell did as they were told, as she moved to put herself between them and the window.
“Ma’am,” he said. “You’ve got to trust me and Marshal Chee. We need to get you out of here.”
Another bar in the window cracked loose.
“Give me the keys to these padlocks and the cell doors! Please!”
From the folds of her apron, Lucinda handed the keys to one of the boys next to her and he rushed them to Hollister. He started to work at unlocking the fortified cell doors.
“Chee, cut these ropes,” he said. Chee pulled the big bowie knife from his belt and slashed through several lengths of rope that had been wrapped around and through the bars.
The entire window in the middle cell exploded out of the frame. Seconds later a man leapt through the window. Chee fired the Henry before Hollister could speak. The retort was deafening. The silver bullet pierced the creature’s forehead and tunneled through his brain. The scream was unlike anything he had ever heard before, like the thing’s body had been dipped in fire. He was catapulted off his feet, his body slamming into the back wall. He twitched and moaned on the ground, but he wasn’t dead. He would heal and come at them again. Hollister had no idea how long it would take, but ended the guess by shooting him in the chest with a wooden bullet from his other Colt. The creature turned to dust after another agonizing scream.
Hollister threw open the cell doors.
“This way. Hurry!” he ordered.
Another creature appeared in the window opening and Chee shot but missed, and it darted away. All the cell doors opened and Hollister drew his pistol.
“Chee, clear the office. Get everyone in there. We’ll barricade the cell-block door and figure out our next move.”
Chee stepped forward like a cat, slinging the rifle on his back, pulling a Colt and the discarded sawed-off shotgun from his belt. He threw open the solid iron door to the office and vaulted through it.
“Clear!” he shouted.
“Everyone move!” Hollister commanded. The adults and the children scrambled out of the cells and hurried into the office. Hollister kept his gun up, covering the open window in the middle cell.
Lucinda was the last one remaining.
“Come on, ma’am,” Hollister said. “Let’s get a length of this chain. We can use it on the door from the other side.”
Lucinda was just about clear of her cell when a creature leapt through the window, landing lightly on its feet behind her. It had once been a young girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. It grabbed Lucinda roughly by the shoulders and sank its fangs into her neck. Then it bit its own finger and jammed it into Lucinda’s mouth. All before Hollister could act. They were here trying to turn more humans.
Lucinda screamed and Hollister remembered the sound his men made as they died on the plains of Wyoming. He shot the girl in the head and the wooden bullet knocked her backward but didn’t kill her. She staggered to her feet, ready to launch herself at him, and he shot her in the center of the chest. At first there was no reaction and the creature stared dumbly at her chest wound. An instant later, she looked up at him screaming in pain and disappeared in a cloud of ash and dust.
Lucinda lay bleeding on the floor. He tried to lift her up but she put her hand on his arm to stop him.
“Leave me,” she said.
“Nonsense. You’re coming with me,” he said.
“No. I’m gone now. Give me my gun. You go on and save those children. The bite… I’ve been bitten and I know what comes next. I saw it happen to my husband and a bunch of others. I’m already dead. Let me kill a few more of them first.”
“There is no way I’m leaving you here,” he said.
She fumbled on the floor, her hands searching, and came up with the gun. She cocked the big Colt and pointed it at him, her other hand trying to staunch the bleeding in her neck.
“Hey… easy,” he said.
“Let me go, Marshal. You can’t help me. Save the others. I’m an old woman. It’s all right to let me die. You need to shoot me. Before I come back and hurt one of those children.”
“Major!” He heard Chee call from the other room.
“Right there, Chee,” He answered.
He was about to argue with Lucinda when, with surprising strength, she dropped her own Colt and grasped his gun hand and pulled it to her chest. Before he could react, she managed to raise her other arm and press his trigger finger.
Her eyes widened as the bullet entered her chest.
“What’s your name again?” she asked, gasping.
“Hollister. Jonas Hollister,” he said.
“That’s a fine name.” She died on the cell floor.
Chapter Thirty-five
Hollister backed through the iron door and into the office, slamming it behind him. The door had a small square window in it with bars across its opening. Seconds later a creature appeared in the small window and he fired through it with his pistol but couldn’t tell if he’d struck it or not. The door locked with a metal latch that was screwed to the door wall. He wrapped the chain around the handle and the latch. There was nothing to lock it in place but it would slow them down at least.
The office was about twenty feet square and Chee stood at the shuttered window, looking out onto the street through a small shooters’ port in the center of it. Hollister momentarily paused to thank whoever had designed and built such a well-secured and fortified jail.
But it wouldn’t keep those things out for long. Lucinda had said they cut the telegraph lines the first thing. Then they must have concentrated on feeding, picking off the easy prey around the town. Now they were coming for the hard targets. Maybe the longer they were turned the more they were able to control their urge to feed and could plan and act.
The women and children scattered to the corners as Hollister made his way through them, joining Chee at the window.
The shadows were longer now and it would be completely dark soon. The moon was rising and a hangnail of it just appeared over the mountains to the southwest. In the street perhaps twenty-five or thirty yards from the office door, three creatures stood staring intently at the jail. One wore what used to be a white apron, now covered in blood, and another still had a sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt. The third looked like a bum who may have been the town drunk.
“They been there awhile,” Chee said. “Like they’re trying to figure out what to do next.”
“You still set on ammo?” Hollister asked.
Chee pulled back his duster to reveal three full ammo belts over his shoulders and around his waist.
