“The sheriff was also my pimp and my best customer, Marshal.”
“Ah.” He had no further reply.
“How we going to get out of this?” she asked.
“Don’t know yet. But I’m working on it.”
“We been in here four days, Marshal. I hope you come up with something quick,” she said, stepping back to the group and picking up the young girl again. “Your deputy there. He keeps calling you Major. Were you in the army together?”
“Something like that,” he answered.
“Major!” Chee said from the window, as if on cue. Hollister rejoined Chee at the window.
“What is it?”
“Our friend is back.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Where there had previously stood three vampires in the street, now there were only piles of ash, slowly blowing away in the gathering breeze.
“Where is she now?” Hollister asked.
“I don’t know,” Chee said. “It happened so fast, I almost missed it. She had a big knife of some kind. She didn’t… they weren’t
…” Chee looked over his shoulder. He wanted to keep his voice down, fearing news of the woman’s appearance would needlessly alarm the women and children. He leaned in close to Hollister.
“What I’m saying is, she didn’t cut off their heads or anything. She just stabbed them and they turned to dust. It happened so fast they didn’t have time to react. She ran up on the roof. It’s quiet up there now. I bet she got the two up there as well.”
Hollister thought for a moment, trying to recall anything about stabbing vampires like regular folks that he might have read in Van Helsing’s journals. Nothing came to him.
“We’ll have to figure it out later. Maybe we can exchange notes if we ever get a chance to ask her-”
He was interrupted by a shout.
“Billy, no!” One of the women screamed. Spinning around, Hollister saw that one of the boys, maybe eight or ten years old, had worked his way close to the door while no one was paying attention. Now he was throwing up the wooden latch and tearing it open.
Hollister was about six feet away and leapt after him, but the kid was small and quick and had the door open. He dashed through it into the darkened street.
“Get back here, kid!” Hollister yelled after him. The boy was fast and he ran across the walkway in front of the jail and down the street. He was about to run after him when from directly above him the man who had jumped on the roof, still wearing his ridiculous top hat, landed on the ground in front of him. Apparently, the mystery woman had missed one of the creatures on the roof. Or she had been killed herself. The thought gave him momentary pause as he tried to scramble backward into the jail, but the creature’s hands shot out and grabbed him around the neck.
He couldn’t breathe. It felt like his neck had been clapped in irons. His feet started to leave the ground as the creature lifted him up in the air. Hollister was only vaguely aware of the shouts and screams of the women and children in the open doorway behind him. He tried to choke out words, but he could not get any air in his lungs.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Shaniah had slowly worked her way into the town and spent time on the rooftops of the main street across from the Archaics who stood outside the jail and hid in the shadows of the buildings below her. They did not catch her scent, whether it was because of the stillness of the air, or her position downwind of them. More likely it was because they were still initiates, recently turned and not fully familiar with their newfound senses and powers. Her scent blended with the cacophony of smells they were processing at the moment. Experienced Archaics would have known she was there.
Malachi or his minions had been busy. There were dozens of Archaics in the town. The humans sequestered in the jail were going to die. It was only a matter of time, unless someone came for them in daylight. Then they might have a chance. She had eyed Hollister’s train on her way into town. It might be their only hope.
It had been smart of the humans to hole up in the jail. She had learned humans were excellent at building jails and prisons, and it was probably the most secure building in the entire town. They could make it through another night. The humans inside did not yet understand the Archaics besieging them. The Archaics were consumed by hunger and were using their strength and viciousness to feed. Being recently turned, planning and plotting eluded them in most cases. Now, watching the jail, she knew there were likely no living humans left in the town. The Archaics were gathering where the food was.
She needed Hollister and the man-witch to find Malachi, but for now, it was time to even the odds. The three Archaics in the street died quickly.
Chapter Thirty-eight
When he turned around, it was Top Hat Man who held his neck. The man’s face changed, his eyes went red, and his jaw grew. Hollister watched as the fangs descended from his mouth. Without warning, Jonas was dropped to the ground as there was a loud explosion and the vampire went flying sideways. Chee had shot the man in the head with the Henry and he catapulted off the porch, landing in the street. Of course the bullet didn’t kill him, but he screamed in agony, clutching at his head as he rose to his feet, charging at Hollister.
Hollister drew his Colt and started shooting. Hitting a moving target in the heart is not easy. It requires some luck, but the fourth bullet took the creature in the right spot and he moaned in pain again as he staggered backward and collapsed in a heap of dust, the top hat rolling in the dirt.
Jonas staggered back into the office and slammed the door shut. “Jesus Christ!” he said, trying to calm his breath and keep his heart from slamming out of his chest. He reloaded the Colt, nearly dropping the bullets as his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Please, mister,” he heard a voice behind him, and turned to find Billy’s mother standing there, tears streaming down her face. “You got to help him.”
Hollister didn’t know what to do. His training and instinct told him he needed to go find the boy, but his encounter with Top Hat had left him shaken.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Dowding. Joann Dowding. Please. You got to fetch my Billy,” she said.
“Why did he run away?”
“I don’t know… he…” she stammered, unable or unwilling to get the words out.
“Because he’s a damn retard,” Rebecca interrupted the woman.
“He is not… you leave my Billy be!” The woman started crying again and Hollister didn’t know what to do to make her stop.
“Your stupid retard is going to get us all killed,” Rebecca went on. She was still in her corner, leaning against it. Her eyes were wild and unfocused and Hollister was pretty sure she had lost whatever command of her faculties she might have once possessed. He had seen it happen to soldiers in combat many times. The tense, uncertain atmosphere drove them over the edge.
“If you go after that retard… we all…” She was cut off by the appearance of Sally, who stepped in front of
