with hunger but confused and held in place by her appearance, he moved very little, watching her every movement.
She gave another loud howl and swung the blade through the air in a mighty arc. These initiates had not mastered speech yet, their voices stilled by their rapidly changing physiology. Most could not speak in Archaic form for weeks after turning.
“I am Shaniah, your Queen. In time you will come to serve me. Now you obey. You will feed when I allow it. You will follow my commands. This is how it has been and always shall be.”
Nothing she said was remotely true. Her position as leader of her people was an elected one. She was not “served” by her people. The Archaics of the high mountains were a small, self-sustaining society and while it was true that she could make decisions for her people, she had been chosen by the Council of Elders because she was the Archaic who was the best hunter, the strongest, the most cunning. She had earned her place through action and example, not by fighting it out as she had heard other groups like the wolf people did.
She needed to exert her will on this group. If they learned to shelter themselves from the sun, they could keep Hollister and the others penned up inside the jail until they starved. There was no time for that.
Her words caused some consternation among the group. It was almost certain they could understand her. Their primitive instincts were just in charge and difficult for them to control. They wanted to kill and eat Hollister and the rest in the jail. For them there was no other course to take.
The blacksmith had slowly worked his way to the front of the group, acting as if he had no interest in anything going on around him. Shaniah set her feet, tightening her grip on the blade. His attack was sudden, and even though she was prepared, his quickness surprised her. He leapt in the air the ten feet or so between them. The blacksmith had been one of the most recent to turn, so he would not disintegrate to ash yet. It was a lucky break for her.
Shaniah did not hesitate. Swinging the blade, she rotated her hips, her arms and shoulders pouring every ounce of strength she had into it. The big knife connected with the man at his neck and his head came off as if she had sliced through a melon. His body collapsed to the ground and with one hand, Shaniah snatched his head out of the air, her fingers twisted in his long dark hair. She held the head up, brandishing it at the Archaics, her eyes burning with rage.
“Do NOT disobey me!” she commanded, tossing the head at the assembled group, who scattered, stumbling over each other to get out of the way.
Now came the dangerous part.
She spun on her heel, walking toward the jail, her back exposed to them, but without haste, as if they were no threat to her at all.
Chapter Forty-eight
Hollister and Chee stood dumbstruck as Shaniah strolled almost casually down the street. The further removed from the Archaics she got, the more restless they became. It didn’t seem like their patience would hold much longer and Shaniah quickened her pace a bit, until she finally reached the two of them.
“What the hell did you do?” Hollister asked. Shaniah shrugged.
“I would suggest we get inside the jail, quickly. They have been momentarily cowed. It won’t last long,” she said.
Hollister wasn’t sure bringing Shaniah inside the jail with the women and children was a good idea. Yet she had saved his life a half dozen times in the last ten minutes and he could not see making her fend for herself out here. But he was not taking a fox into the henhouse either.
“Give me your knife,” Hollister said.
“What? No!” she said.
Jonas didn’t waste time. “Here is how it is. You want my help finding this ‘Malachi’ as you called him. All right. We can talk about it. But right now, we’ve got to survive until morning at the least, and I’ve got women and children inside the jail. I’m not letting you in there with a weapon. So make up your mind.”
Shaniah felt like taking Hollister by the throat. But when her flash of anger subsided, she could see his point. And would likely have done the same thing, had she been in his position. She held out the knife, blade down, and he secured it in his gun belt.
Noticing the sullen look on her face, he tried giving her a charming smile. “Don’t worry. If the Archaics show up again, I’ll be sure you get it back.”
“If they come back, you’ll likely die,” she said.
“Touche,” Hollister said. “Sally! We need to come in.”
“Hold it, Major,” Chee said, raising the rifle. Hollister turned; with one free hand each, they exchanged coins. Both were clear. Shaniah looked puzzled but the two men said nothing.
There came the sound of the wooden timber being lifted from inside, and the door squeaked open. The three of them shot through and Hollister resecured the door. Chee made no acknowledgment of anyone or anything, going right back to the window and peering through the shooting port, rifle at the ready.
Shaniah wasn’t sure where to go. The women and children stared at her with a mixture of distrust and fear, several of them cowering and pushing closer together in the office corner. Shaniah herself did not look comfortable standing next to Chee and for a few moments she fidgeted until she took a spot beside the desk and in the opposite corner from where the woman and children had gathered. She studied the door to the cell block, now chained, and pretended to be interested in any mundane thing she could find.
“Who is she?” Sally asked. “I ain’t ever seen her before.”
“She’s new in town,” Hollister said, trying to sound at ease.
“How come she’s got blood all over her?” Sally continued.
Hollister hadn’t really paid attention in all the excitement, but now noticed both he and Shaniah were splattered in blood from their fights with the Archaics.
“We… ah… ran into a little bit of trouble,” Hollister said. “How’s Billy?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Billy sat on his mother’s lap. She held him seated on the floor, pulling him tightly to her, sobbing gently and rubbing his hair. Surprisingly, he looked none the worse for wear.
“Appears fine,” Sally said, not taking her eyes off Shaniah. “She one o’ them?”
“One of whom?” Hollister asked, not wanting to answer and waiting for the trouble he had a pretty good idea was coming.
“You know. A night demon. She don’t look right,” Sally said.
Hollister couldn’t imagine how that could be, because aside from all the blood staining her clothes and the many creatures he’d seen her kill almost bare-handed, she looked like the most all-right woman he had ever seen.
“No. She’s not one of them. She’s hunting them though. She lost someone who was taken by these things and came to my aid in town. They can be killed and she knows how to do it.”
His answer appeared to satisfy Sally for a moment, but she kept a wary eye on Shaniah. The other women were whispering and murmuring among themselves and Hollister had a feeling they were going to figure out Shaniah’s true nature before long. Luckily, he didn’t have time to worry about it.
“Major,” Chee said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve got company again.”
Hollister peered out the port. The Archaics Shaniah had stood off now gathered in front of the jail. They weren’t doing anything, just standing, watching. Hollister counted twenty-two now and he wondered how many were left in town. He disliked being pinned down like this, unable to do reconnaissance and find out what he was up against.
The moon was moving lower in the sky. Hollister checked his pocket watch. It was past 3 A.M. Suddenly the Archaics turned to look at something down the street, and from their vantage point neither he nor Chee could see what it was.
A moment later, two more Archaics arrived, each of them carrying torches.
“I thought they didn’t like fire,” Hollister muttered.
