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Billie the Kid: The Sky Fire Chronicles Book 1 Page 7


  “Do I look like a mutant?”

  “No. You are too…no.”

  “From my limited experience, most mutants look like normal people. Maybe we’re all mutants to each other. In one way or another.” She left Joseph to check on her own horse.

  “Don’t get attached,” said Tommy. The tracker leaned against the hinging rail beside Pat’s horse. “All these men will die.”

  Pat glanced at her Native friend, his expression gave away nothing as usual. Tommy didn’t often speak, but when he did it paid to listen.

  These men will die.

  Everyone mounted and Tommy led the group away from the Outpost, heading south into the deep desert. Pat rode beside Roberts and the rest of the posse followed, strung out behind them. She wasn’t too surprised that Carter brought up the rear.

  The men from Deepwell were an odd bunch. They didn’t talk much. It was obvious there was a trust issue.

  Pat glanced back at Joseph. He scanned the desert, looking nervous.

  The barman said five men restocked at the Outpost before heading down this path. It wasn’t a road they took, it was little more than a track winding its way south, through a dry and broken land.

  Why would anyone want to come here? And why steal the sky rocks and ride into the wasteland? It makes little sense.

  The sun was above the horizon and Pat could feel the day’s heat against her skin, promising the day would be hot. Above, the southern sky was an odd blue, almost violet color and was devoid of any clouds and bird life.

  Another day in paradise.

  After only hundred yards, Tommy reined in his sturdy horse, coming to an abrupt stop. Without turning, the bare-chested Native point behind them, back toward the Outpost. Pivoting in her saddle, Pat craned her head to see what had caught his interest, but she could see nothing between them and the Outpost. The land was empty.

  Pat shielded her eyes from the sunlight for several seconds, scanning the land before noticing a small, dark shape moving in from the open country toward the Outpost.

  Just a wild dog…

  “Look alive,” said Roberts. “This may be a trick.” The old marshal pivoted his horse skilfully and drawing his sword, he trotted to the back of the convoy. The Deepwell men followed his example, readying their own weapons, but remained in position. Pat pulled out her carbine.

  “Keep your eyes open, men,” ordered Sheriff Bartlett.

  Tommy hadn’t moved, remaining in position.

  The men tensed as the small shape got closer. Bartlett raised his repeater to his shoulder, aiming at the distant object.

  It’s a child.

  “Hey!” Joseph shouted. “Don’t shoot, that’s my sister!” He spurred his horse forward, riding toward the newcomer.

  “Shit!” Sheriff Bartlett exclaimed, lowering his rifle.

  Everyone watched in silence as Joseph reached the person and after a brief exchange, he reached down and lifted her onto the saddle behind him. The girl clung to Joseph’s back as they rode back and Pat caught a glimpse of her dirty face. Roberts ordered them forward and everyone fell back into position as the convoy moved forward again without another word being said.

  Tommy trotted forward, picking out the mutants’ tracks. They were a day behind the gunmen now and couldn’t afford any more hold-ups. They didn’t have to worry about the rain—it never rained, but the wind could blow any signs away.

  This work was dangerous, it wasn’t what Pat’s mother envisioned for her only daughter. She often told Pat to find a nice man, settle down and have babies.

  ‘Why?’ Pat had asked.

  ‘It’s our duty,’ her mother replied. ‘As women.’

  ‘Why should I be a man’s slave? Isn’t that why we fought the war. To end slavery?’

  Her mother would just shake her head and wonder what was wrong with her daughter. ‘You get that rebellious streak from your father,’ her mother said. ‘My family is proper.’

  Proper? Pat certainly didn’t feel like she was improper, although she was the first person to admit she was unorthodox. That’s just my charm.

  They travelled over the dry landscape in silence, following the Native tracker. Time seemed to crawl and Billie felt none of the men wanted her there. No one spoke to her and even Joey seemed on edge. His normal, easy-going nature had eroded and he was tense, she could feel it. He had mentioned several times since she climbed onto the back of his horse that she should’ve stayed at home and it was starting to be annoying.

  If he says it again, she vowed, I’ll punch him. Then we’ll see what his new friends think when a little girl makes him cry. She squeezed him. You’re a good brother, Joey.

  “Hey,” Joseph complained. “Not so tight.”

  “Sorry.” She rested her head on his dusty back. She was exhausted and the heat was making her drowsy. “Have you wondered why nothing lives here?”

  “It’s always been this way.”

  “Harrison said years ago there were woods and rivers here. Before the Sky Fires.”

  “Rivers? Look at this place. There’s no water here.”

  Her gaze wandered across the open desert—the landscape was barren and empty. Nothing grew here. The last plant she saw was hours ago, not far from the Outpost.

  Maybe he’s right. Nothing has ever lived here.

  The sun was low in the sky and ahead Tommy disappeared from sight, dropping into a gully. They followed his lead, plodding on slowly. Their mounts seemed almost as weary as she felt.

  Thirst clawed at her throat and her backside was sore from sitting. “It’s almost dark,” she said. “Will we stop? My…back is killing me.”

  “We’ll stop soon I guess. It’s too dangerous to travel across this rocky terrain at night.”

  Joseph followed the marshals’ horse, continuing over the edge of the gully and into its dry bed. It was a few yards deep and thirty yards wide and being in the bottom gave little relief from the sun’s constant bite.

  Ahead, Tommy had dismounted. Squatting, he examined the sandy ground, tracing something with his fingers. The rest of the posse rode up and Roberts stopped them with a raised hand.

  “What is it?” Roberts asked Tommy as he reined in beside the tracker.

  Tommy pointed to the ground and then further along the gully. “They stopped here yesterday. Made camp and then travelled south.” He pointed in the direction. “They're in no hurry.”

  “It seems like they’re not expecting anyone to follow.” Roberts shielded his eyes, looking in the direction Tommy indicated. “How far behind are we?”

  “Less than a day,” Tommy replied. Grabbing the saddle horn, he swung up onto his horse without using the stirrups.

  “We’ll travel a little longer, then stop for the night. Tomorrow we’ll increase our pace and hopefully catch them before they go any deeper into this cursed land.”

  Thirty minutes later, they reached the end of the sandy gully and Roberts called a stop. They would camp down in the gully that night as it offered more protection from prying eyes. It was more defensible than the open desert.

  Sliding off Joey’s horse, Billie was relieved to stretch out her stiff limbs. She watched the others as they picketed their horses and went about collecting wood for a fire. Billie felt out of place amongst these men. Who was she? Just a girl from nowhere who’s following a group of murderers.

  You’re crazy, Billie Bonney.

  Billie made eye contact with Marshal Garrett and the woman smiled back.

  She looks friendly enough.

  Pat was taller than the men and she was beautiful and elegant—even wearing breeches and a long-sleeved shirt, she still looked feminine. Unlike Billie, who was getting tired of being mistaken for a boy. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the tall woman’s curves, her near-perfect skin and her long, braided hair—

  “Lay out this bedroll,” said Joseph, thrusting a rolled blanket into Billie’s arms. “And stop staring.”

  “I-I’m not,” Billie stuttered.r />
  Everyone went about their tasks in silence and Billie noticed Roberts and Sheriff Bartlett had barely looked or spoken to each other all day.

  Are they fighting? That’s all we need out here.

  As darkness fell, Tommy lit a fire with the collected wood while Bartlett and the big bearded man, Campbell, prepared food in a cast iron pot. Billie’s stomach rumbled, the cooking smells were intoxicating—she hadn’t eaten since this morning with Clay. She offered the sheriff her tin of beans and he thanked her, stirring it into the pot with a wooden spoon.

  Billie now only had the clothes on her back, half a canteen of water, Harrison’s old revolver and a pocket full of loose bullets. With nothing more to give, she worried that she wouldn’t be any more of burden than she already was. Relying on others didn’t sit comfortably with her.

  The sheriff ladled out the food and people sat around the fire eating. Sitting beside Joey, Billie wolfed her food into her mouth. It wasn’t good, but it was filling and that’s all she needed. Glancing up from her finished meal, Billie noticed Carter watching her. The scruffy man continued eating, but his eyes never left her. It made her feel uncomfortable.

  What’s his problem?

  Billie sat closer to her brother, feeling comforted by his proximity. Why would Carter be watching her? She glanced away for a few seconds and then back at Carter. He had stopped eating, but was still watching her. He stretched out, leaning against a rock and extending his legs toward the fire. His two straight-bladed swords laid beside him. Carter smiled at her, showing a mouthful of discolored teeth. It sent a shudder up her spine.

  What a creep!

  After clearing away the meal, Joey and Campbell went to collect more wood for the night fire while Billie laid out Joey’s bedroll—on the opposite side of the fire to Carter. She tried not to make eye contact with the man, but she felt like he was watching her.

  A shadow fell across Billie and she looked up, straight into Carter’s dark eyes. She took an involuntary step back, but he gripped her upper arm painfully, stopping any further retreat.

  “Let me go!” Billie said.

  “Come and sit with me, little girl,” said Carter, leaning into her face. His breath stunk of rotting teeth and alcohol. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  Fear welled up inside of Billie. What’s happening? She tried to push the man away with all her strength, but he was stronger. She was powerless against him. Billie turned away from his stench and closed her eyes.

  No! Let go of me!

  Her hand reached for her revolver. Its handle felt natural in her small hand as she drew it from her belt—

  “Do you like picking on little girls, big man?” said a woman’s voice. “Well, do you?”

  Billie opened her eyes. Pat Garrett stood beside Carter, pressing a Peacemaker revolver into the side of his long nose. Her face was grim as she thumbed back the hammer.

  Carter released Billie and raised his hands slowly. “Sorry. Just a misunderstanding. I-I thought—”

  “You don’t think and that’s the problem.” Pat pushed the gun barrel harder, pressing his nose out of shape. “Go before I open up your head like a ripe melon.”

  Carter backed away with his hands held high. “You marshals are the same as these mutants. You’re all fuckin’ dangerous.”

  Pat kept her revolver trained on Carter as he reached down and scooped up his two swords. With a backward glance, he turned and stalked off into the darkness.

  Billie surveyed the silent faces around her. Tommy continued to rub down his horse as though nothing had happened. Marshal Roberts had stopped laying out his bedroll and watched Pat, his face unreadable. Sheriff Bartlett eased his hand off his revolver and breathed out, relieved the tension was over. Who was he going to shoot? Pat or Carter?

  Karl Stein walked back into the firelight and detecting something was wrong asked, “What’s going on?” No one answered him.

  Why did he…?

  “You can put your gun away,” Pat said. “I don’t think he’ll try anything again.” The older woman placed a motherly arm around Billie’s thin shoulders.

  Billie released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Why did he hurt me? She pushed her revolver back into her belt and grabbed her arm. She looked up at Pat’s face, seeing her concern.

  “Us girls have to stick together,” said Pat, looking out into the darkness. “You can put your bedroll beside mine.”

  A gun shot shattered the stillness of the night. Everyone drew their weapons and looked out in the darkness.

  Joey!

  “Hold!” ordered Roberts. He had drawn both his revolver and cavalry sabre. “Tommy, which way?”

  The big Native pointed out into the darkness with his tomahawk.

  “Who’s missing?”

  “Campbell and Carter are gathering wood,” replied Bartlett.

  “And Joey!” Billie said, standing. Remembering she had a gun, she pulled it from her belt and like everyone else, she pointed it out into the night.

  “Everyone remain calm—”

  Three rapid gunshots sounded loud in the darkness nearby. Billie flinched, but saw a flash of light to her right. “Over there.” She pointed with her gun.

  “I saw it,” said Pat, cycling her carbine’s lever. “What now, boss?”

  Roberts went to answer, but an animal call cut him short. It was high-pitched and sounded more like an animal scream than a call.

  Billie froze. More mutant coyotes? Joey! She took a few steps forward before a firm hand stopped her.

  “Stay near the fire,” Pat whispered.

  “But Joey’s out there.”

  “I’ll find him. You stay here.” Pat walked away from the firelight, vanishing into the oily darkness. Roberts and Tommy followed.

  “Stein, stay here with the kid,” said Sheriff Bartlett over his shoulder. He moved after the three marshals.

  Holding a Peacemaker revolver out in front, Stein moved to Billie’s side. The gun wavered unsteadily in his hand as he peered into the darkness. The man looked scared and was likely to shoot anyone emerging out of the darkness.

  A gunshot rang out and Stein jumped, grasping her arm. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice strained.

  “I don’t know—”

  Suddenly, something collided with Billie from behind, knocking her off her feet. Her legs cartwheeled through the air and she landed disoriented on her back, with the wind knocked out of her. She gasped franticly for air.

  Finally, her lungs filled with air and she sucked in a ragged breath. What the?

  Not far from her, Stein lay on his back—his face splattered with blood and his sightless brown eyes staring back at her. Over him crouched a large, dark shape. Its bulbous head was at Stein’s neck, making a slurping sound. It was feeding.

  Fear knotted in Billie’s stomach as she scrambled away from the hellish sight. The creature raised its hideous head, sniffing the air with its short, blunt muzzle. Fresh crimson blood dripped from jagged teeth as its pointed ears rotated, searching for the source of the sound. The creature was man-sized, long-limbed and covered in coarse hair. Two large, orb-like eyes were set deep in a bat-like face.

  The bat-creature squeaked in triumph as it inhaled her scent, turning its head directly toward her. Suddenly, it leapt high into the air, covering several yards in one bound and exposing webbing-like skin attached under its arms. This monster could fly!

  At the last possible moment, Billie managed to roll out of the way and the creature landed where she stood. Long claws slashed wildly through the air, catching and slicing through her shirt sleeve and upper arm.

  “Oww!” The cry escaped her, drawing the creature’s attention.

  It’s blind…

  She scurried back on her haunches as the bat creature came at her, its black claws raking the air inches from her face.

  Help!

  Chapter 10

  Billie fumbled at her belt for her gun, but her holster was empty. Knocked out of her hand wh
en the bat-creature barrelled her over.

  Shit! she cursed, scrambling back from the creature. The creature towered over the top of her, slashing down at her with long, black claws. If she didn’t think of something fast, she was bat food.

  Fire!

  The creature stopped and sniffed the air—it had detected something. Billie continued to back up, crawling to the fire where she snatched up the end of a burning branch. Standing, she faced the nightmarish creature, but fear froze her to the spot. The seconds ticked by and the creature remained stationary.

  Billie skirted around the fire, keeping the flames between her and the monster.

  It doesn’t attack. Is it scared of fire?

  The darkness behind the bat-creature stirred and another monster crept into the firelight. It was similar in appearance to the first bat accept it was larger, both in girth and height—it was as large as a bear and its hairy shoulders were broad and muscular. Everything about this new creature was monstrous—including a mouth full of large yellow teeth in a hideous mutated head. It flexed long fingers that ended in knife-like claws, which no doubt was more than capable of cutting a person in two. This monster was the alpha.

  Billie’s legs went weak and she almost dropped the burning branch, but something deep inside told her to be strong—to survive. She chanced a sideward glance, looking for any way to escape.

  There was none.

  Lying beside Stein’s dead body was the man’s revolver and with only a moment’s hesitation, she leapt forward and scooped it up. It felt heavy in her hand and the long barrel shook uncontrollably as she pointed it at the two monsters standing only yards away.

  Several gunshots boomed in the darkness somewhere behind Billie and she flinched. Her friends were in trouble, too. To her right, a horse screamed in agony as multiple dark shapes leapt onto the poor hobbled animal and tore it into pieces.

  This was the end. They were all doomed to die in this cursed desert.

  No!

  The alpha’s movement drew Billie’s attention back to her own situation. It leapt in the air, clearing the fire, landing with a thump in front of her. Her gun whipped up and she pointed it at the creature’s massive chest. At that range she could hardly miss.