The Ghost of Apache Creek

Chapter 37

“I’m your prisoner, Sammy,” Jess said. “I have to go where you go.”

“That doesn’t signify any longer,” Pace said.

“Changed your mind, huh?”

“Yes, I have. I made you my prisoner when I was tetched. I’m not tetched anymore.”

“Could’ve fooled me, Sam,” Lake said. “The way you was talking about bracing them Peacock brothers.”

“I may still brace them, Mash. There was a time I was considered a man who was pretty good with a gun.”

“Pretty good don’t cut it, Sam, not with the Peacocks.”

“Hell, Mash, we sent ’em running. How good can they be?”

“They’re revolver fighters, Sam. A gunfight in darkness and fog isn’t their thing, if’n you get my meaning.”

“Then why the hell did they shoot?”

“Because they thought you were me. They expected a feeble old man who’d get scared and try to talk them out of it.” Lake smiled. “Instead they bumped into a feller who was once considered pretty good with a gun.”

Jess handed Pace his damp shirt. “Dry that in front of the stove,” she said.

She laid a hand on Pace’s shoulder. “So, how come you aren’t crazy no more, Sammy?”

“Because I suddenly realize that I’m the marshal of nothing.” He reached into his pocket, found his star, and threw it on the desk. “I’ve been fooling myself. The people aren’t coming back, not to this bad-luck ghost town, they aren’t.”

“And the dead people down at the graveyard who want to eat you for supper?” Jess said.

Pace hesitated. “I don’t know about them. At least, not yet.”

Lake smiled his approval at Jess. “Good, now it seems ol’ Sam is only half crazy.”

“The church bell tower has been rotting away for three years,” Pace said. “It may not be safe any longer, if it ever was.”

“It only needs to hold us until the Peacock brothers give up and leave,” Lake said.

“If they decide to search the church, we’ll be trapped like rats,” Pace said.

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. I reckon they’ll ride through, like, and then figure we lit out for the hills.”

Pace looked at Jess. “What do you think?”

The woman was quiet for a few moments, wrinkles gathering between her eyebrows.

Finally she said, “We can’t run and let them catch us in the open, so we’re stuck here. And it’s not just the Peacocks. You killed two of the deacon’s sons, and he’ll come after you. It’s only a matter of when and he’ll pick a time that suits him.”

She took the shirt from Pace’s hands and spread it over the stove. “The bell tower is as good a place as any to hide. At least up there, we’ll be closer to our Maker.”

Pace talked through a sigh. “Well, I guess that’s it. We’ll hide in the tower and hope”—he slammed a hand on the desk—“hell no, we’ll not. If the Peacock boys discover we’re up there, they can stand off and shoot the tower to pieces and us with it.”

“So, what does the genius suggest?” Jess said.

“We mount up and make a run for it. In open country Mash and me can keep the Peacocks at rifle distance. There’s a Mormon settlement west of Silver Creek by the name of Snowflake and we can head for there. They’ll have law and fighting men enough to enforce it.”

“And the deacon?” Jess said.

“I don’t think we have anything to fear from him, at least for a spell,” Pace said. “He’s got important business with Beau Harcourt and that will occupy him.”

Lake looked at the woman. “Jess?”

“I still think hiding out is the best idea, but I’ll go along for the ride,” she said.

“That only leaves you, Mash,” Pace said.

“Hell, Sam, I ain’t staying here by my own self with the Peacocks and the deacon and the hungry dead people and the hants an’ sich. I’ll play it your way.”

Lake rose to his feet and stepped toward the door.

“You two pack up as much grub as you can find,” he said. “I’ll get the horses.”

After Lake left, Pace stood at the window and looked outside.

The night was shading into dawn, but the fog was so thick he couldn’t see a thing beyond the boardwalk. There was no wind to stir the mist and it hung like a damp gray blanket over the town.

Jess had filled a burlap sack with canned food. Now her eyes moved to the window and she too let her gaze search into the fog.

“Can we find our way in this?” she said.

“We’ll leave it to the horses to pick a trail,” Pace said. “Anyway, the same fog that slows us will slow the Peacocks.”

“Mash says they’re half wolf.”

“They’re men, like any other men. I proved that when I shot one of them at the creek.”

Jess was silent for a while, then said, “Sammy, I don’t think you shot one of the brothers. I don’t think you shot anybody.”

“What do you mean?”

“A shot man doesn’t shriek like that . . . like an animal. They want you to think that one of them is down so you’ll lower your guard just a little. Professional gunmen like the Peacock brothers will always look for an edge, no matter how slight.”

Pace thought for a few moments. He said, “I reckon it troubled me at the time. I mean, that they gave up so fast. I couldn’t quite figure that one out.”

“As Mash says, it wasn’t their kind of gunfight and you weren’t the one they were after. They did their wounded wolf cry and backed away from it.”

“To fight another day when the circumstances will be more in their favor.”

“Right. When they have an edge.”

Pace nodded. “They won’t have an edge out in the open country. I’ll see to that.”

But Pace was talking into the wind.

There would be no open country.

Mash Lake stepped into the marshal’s office, his face a stony mask.

“We ain’t going anywhere,” he said.

“Why the hell not?” Pace said.

“Because the horses are gone.”