“I understand. Now, let’s go see what Monkey Pete has to show us.”
Chapter Sixty-six
Monkey Pete was proud of what he’d pieced together. As Chee had seen earlier, he had taken two of the spare flywheels for the gear assembly on the engine and created an axle out of a spare piece of pipe. The cart was about four feet wide, and he’d apparently stripped some planks of wood from inside the car and made a platform about six feet long.
The metal wheels were thin and weren’t likely to travel well in the soil, so Pete wrapped them in several layers of rope to thicken them so they would roll more easily over whatever surface they needed to travel.
He had bolted one of the Gatlings to the cart. The surface of the platform stood about three feet off the ground so the gun could swivel with a 360-degree field of fire.
A Fire Shooter was also strapped to the cart, along with several boxes of ammo, silver, and wooden and holy-water bullets. The cart itself looked lethal just sitting there, and for a second Hollister let himself feel encouraged. They were going in against an enemy more powerful than anything he’d ever faced. But they could be killed, and he might just have the firepower to do it. But then he pushed the thought from his head. No use getting cocky. It would only get them killed.
Jonas checked his pocket watch.
The information he had on the Clady mine was sketchy. Mostly some railroad documents and a one-page report Pinkerton had been able to scrounge up and telegraph to him.
It wouldn’t be like Absolution. The mine here had been closed for years. There were a few decrepit buildings left and then the mine shaft. The majority of the Archaics would probably be in the mine, until the sun went down. If he were Malachi, he would come at them again, once it was dark. But it would be a different approach. He would try something to draw them away from the train, maybe setting it on fire. Two problems with that approach: first, everything outside of the train was steel or iron and wouldn’t burn, and second, he wouldn’t know Hollister and his band would be in Clady already waiting for them.
Shaniah stepped out of the train and looked over Monkey Pete’s newest contraption. Hollister could tell she was still angry with him, ignoring him completely at first, and instead turning her attention to the cart. After studying his creation for a minute she shook her head in amazement, but smiled. “It pains me to say it, but I think what you have done here, Mr. Pete, is found a way to kill many Archaics.”
“Well, ma’am, no offense, but I hope so,” Monkey Pete said. “Major, I had these in the armory, and I thought they might come in handy.” He pointed to two wooden cases sitting on the cart. Stenciled on the side of each case was the word DYNAMITE.
Hollister smiled. “I think we might find a use for it.”
Hollister looked at his watch again. It was now after 10 A.M. According to the map it was just over twelve miles to Clady. It was also mostly uphill. Hollister wanted to be in position well before late afternoon, when the sun went down behind the mountains, in case some Archaics might move about in the hours before the actual sunset.
“All right,” Hollister said. “Pete, you stay with the train. We’re going to off-load the horses and pull those trees off the track before we leave, in case you need to get out of here. After that, we’re leaving for Clady. You stay in the gunner’s bubble with that Gatling. If we don’t come back or if you see an Archaic, don’t fight ’em off. You get the hell out of here. Send a wire to Pinkerton as soon as you can, tell him we failed and he’s going to have to try something else to kill these things. Tell him he’ll need the biggest goddamn stick of dynamite that’s ever been made. Or something.”
He looked at each of them. All of them wore solemn expressions on their faces. They were ready.
“All right,” Hollister said. “Let’s get going.”
Chapter Sixty-seven
Malachi sat on a chair in one of the large chambers of the mine. Around him dozens of Archaic initiates slept, hidden from the burning rays of the sun outside. Soon they would be able to go without sleep for weeks as their transformation from human to Archaic was completed. Their mood had changed completely since he had slaughtered the cowards earlier this morning. They had always had a healthy respect for his temper, but now they feared him. Since Shaniah had arrived in Absolution he had found it necessary to discipline his followers for their failures for the first time. If the world was to belong to his people, they would not be the last.
There had been no choice. Archaics could not be afraid. They could never be allowed to retreat, they must attack without hesitation and weakness would not be tolerated.
The mine was clear of bats and rodents, driven out by their preternatural fear of the Archaics, so the only sound was the occasional murmur from the disturbed sleep of his followers. He felt strong. He knew he was more powerful than he had been in centuries, since the Archaics had retreated to the high mountains of the homeland.
He would need his strength now more than ever.
Shaniah was coming. He could feel her presence growing closer. It had been so long since he had seen her. Years. And soon one of them would die.
It would end.
M onkey Pete’s cart worked remarkably well and given the terrain and the elevation they were able to make excellent time toward the mine. Demeter had little trouble pulling the cart up the steep incline, and by noon they were more than halfway there.
There was very little talking as they rode. They were alert and a little nervous. Shaniah was cloaked, reminding them that other Archaics could be about and cloaked as she was, and that ambush was always possible. But Hollister didn’t think Malachi would risk a daylight attack after losing so many in the night attack on the train. Chee and Hollister rode with Fire Shooters on their backs. The third was bolted to the cart. Each of them carried a Henry across his saddle.
It was four o’clock when they reached the mine. They stayed back in the trees surrounding the clearing where the bulk of the mining camp had once stood. Hollister dismounted and scanned the area with his spyglass but there was no movement or sign of anyone nearby. There were two buildings, both of them nearly falling down, one with the roof already partially caved in, about sixty yards from the mine opening. The other building was to the right of the first, perhaps ten yards closer to the entrance and nothing more than a small shed. He would put Chee with the Gatling and his Fire Shooter there. He would take up a position in the first building with the Fire Shooter, the Ass-Kicker, his Henry, and some of the dynamite, just in case things got really interesting.
“Shaniah, I want Chee in the small building with the Gatling. I don’t suppose you’d reconsider using a Fire Shooter, would you?” Hollister asked.
“No,” she answered and he decided not to press the issue.
“All right then, if you can cover our flank. And…”
“I will be going in to kill Malachi,” she said.
“But if we need-” Hollister started to say.
“Malachi has eluded me for years. He may well bring about the end of my people still. I will do what I can to protect and support you in your efforts to destroy his followers. And I will kill all of them who get in my way. But I am here to kill Malachi, even if it means my own death.”
“I… you… Shaniah… listen to me… please…” Hollister pleaded.
“The matter is closed,” she said.
Hollister stood there, his mouth open, trying to think of something to say to change her mind, but he had nothing. He could tell she would not be swayed.
“All right then,” he said. “Let’s get in position.”
