Peacemaker

Chapter 8

I hiked through the trees, bleeding like a stuck pig as I went. I had taken my bandana and tried to use it as a bandage for the hole in my shoulder. It helped a little bit, but I still had wounds trickling blood. Oddly enough, I wasn't getting dizzy. None of the injuries I had ached or stung for too long after the confrontation. I honestly didn't even notice I was bleeding too badly until I heard the patter of blood hitting the rocks at my boot soles. 

Before too long, I had reached a cliff overlooking a small box canyon. Smoke rose from the center of a camp spanning from either end the little basin it was nestled in. I got down onto my belly, then brought the buffalo rifle up. Peering through the scope, I could see the rough outline of a few guys down in the canyon, as well as the cattle that had been rustled. I knew I couldn't go down there and demand the animals back, but I did have a few cartridges for that buffalo rifle, and plenty of range to figure out how to use it.

Jacking open the block, I slipped the first bullet in. Taking a deep breath, I closed the action and cocked the hammer. As I did so, I brought the crosshair over the first silhouette. I set the hammer, then fired. The crack echoed down the canyon, then the outline dropped to the ground.

The rest of them scattered, the cattle bawled and swarmed inside the corral, and I had gotten my eye in on the first try. Again, I reloaded, aimed, then fired. Dust kicked up in the background, just over the head of the rustler I was aiming at. I cussed under my breath, then repeated the process. This time, I hit the outlaw in the chest. He was taken from his feet, arms and legs flailing as the force of impact took his legs from him.  At this point, they knew where I was. Some of them mounted up and rode down the canyon trying to find a way up to me. I got one as he left their camp, or should I say his horse. The other two were too quick for me, seeing as reloading was slow with that rifle and I didn't think to practice with it as I trudged on. 

I sat the buffalo rifle down and took the lever action off my shoulder. Just in time, too. As I went to get up, bullets started flying around me. The riders had caught up with me. It wasn't any sort of issue though. These guys were amateurs. I suppose they thought riding head on to me would make me scared, or give them an advantage. As soon as the first one cleared the trees, I fired. The bullet tore past the trees and into his chest. He toppled off his horse and slammed into the dirt. His friend saw this, and cut off to the right. I took my time and buried a round in the horse's chest. It went down with a squeal, throwing its rider. 

The bandit stood up from the dust, trying to get a bead on me with his pistol. He met the same fate as his compatriot. A burning hot lead slug in the heart. After dealing with the riders, I grabbed the buffalo rifle and wrangled the already spooky horse. Climbing up in the saddle, I spurred the mare back down the cliffs and into the canyon. As I rode in, I swung my lever gun back across my shoulder then drew my pistols. As I grew closer to camp, the irons began to glow red, almost like they had been left in a forge. I found it odd, but mostly ignored it. Chalked it up to the light from the sun bouncing off the metal. As I rode into camp, I jumped off the old mare before opening the makeshift gate to the corral holding the cattle. All the while, the now irate bandits shot at me. A few bullets embedded themselves into the half rotten posts holding the gate up. The crazed cattle began to stampede out of the gate. I barely had enough warning to step off to the side before I got trampled. Once the last cow sprinted from the gate and down the canyon, I ran up to a boulder just on the outside of the camp. Bullets still flew over my head, shards of sandstone flew up as some of the slugs peppered the rock I was behind. 

I took my time as I worked my way through the bandits. Each one fell to my hand. Once I thought I had got the last gunman, I lowered my guns. The same red light radiating from them, and I soon found out why. One more "outlaw" stepped out of a tent. The bastard was massive, wearing a long hooded cloak, and kept his face covered. He stepped forward, looked around at bodies scattered across the camp, then reached for the hood on his head. As soon as the hood was removed, I saw jet black horns, a twisted face adorned with yellow eyes, and ashen skin. 

Almost as if the chill from my pistols reached into my body, my blood froze for a moment. This thing was massive. Nearly as tall as a grizzly bear on its hind legs. It began to lumber forward, its massive feet pounding the dirt into a fine dust. The revelation of what I was now facing shook me to my roots. The last time I fought an actual demon, I almost got killed. Before, it was only men who fell victim to its promises. They were easy to fight. Even with savage strength, a well placed bullet tended to take any sort of man down. But these things...
I didn't know what it would take to fall one. I didn't even know if my guns would push back against this creature. 

It finally got within talking distance. Its scattered, stained teeth bared as it opened its mouth. "Well done, sir. You are brutally efficient with this new form of fighting. How many did you kill today? Eight, maybe twelve men? All for some petty livestock. Mayhaps you would like to make a deal? It's a fairly small price to-"

After gathering my resolve, I snapped. Cutting it off. "No deal."

The beast looked at me slightly perplexed, then chuckled. "You have yet to even hear my offer, sir. I can give you all the power you could ever desire. All I need is that little apparition you call a soul."

I backed up slowly, trying to get enough distance between me and this thing so I could actually get off a few shots. "No. Deal." I said again, tightening my grip on my pistols. I knew I couldn't run, the last time I showed an ounce of fear, I paid dearly for it. There's that theory, the fight or flight option? Well, guess what was running through my head that moment. 

The beast growled, knowing full well I wouldn't be swayed before lunging at me. To my surprise, and the creature's, my body moved on its own. Without thinking, I jumped off to the left. Rolling across the ground. The monster skidded across the dirt, almost like a cougar that just botched its pounce. Scrambling to my feet, I raised my pistols, ready to fire. Before the creature could react, I squeezed the trigger. The peacemaker belched six inches of flame as the bullet raced down the barrel and into the side of the beast. It toppled with a howl, grabbing at the glowing hole now in between its ribs. It stared at me, "What-what the Hell did you do to me!?"

I kept my mouth shut and the pistols raised, cocking the hammer on the Navy. I wanted to fire again, finally kill this damn thing. But, I choked. Flashbacks of my first encounter with these things rattled me. I didn't know if shooting it again would kill it, or just piss it off. Time ran out when it jumped at me, pinning me to the ground. My pistols skidded across the solid Wyoming dirt. It loomed over me. Half chuckling, half growling, I could smell the rank odor permeating from its maw. I grew scared, the feeling sneaking up on me. Then, the fear turned to anger. Mustering every ounce of energy I could, I shot my head forward. A solid crack sounded off as my head made contact with the demon's snout. It recoiled, holding its nose. 

I took my chance, grabbing the knife from my belt. The steel blade pierced its hide with ease, black liquid flowed from the wound like water. It stained the leather gloves as it flowed onto my hand. The beast lurched before slumping over. I took the knife from its body before walking over to where my guns had landed. My nerves were still shot, but I had to finish this. I picked up the pistols, and shot the wounded beast. An Ember red hole burned bright in its head and the smell of burning hair wafted through the air. Finally, that fight was over. 

I was exhausted as I grabbed the guns I dropped and began walking out of the canyon. Before I made it more than a hundred paces from the mouth of the canyon, I collapsed. I felt like I was burning up. Worse than any fever I had ever had. My mouth felt like tree bark. I was, of course, tired. I just wanted to sleep. And that's what I did. Closing my eyes, I passed out under the Wyoming sky