《Revenants Revenge》


 chapter 1

    The Steps before me were brown, dust was picked up by the wind and it blew across them. I stepped up on the first one and it gave a creak, the only sound to be heard as the town remained hushed, as I made my way to the Stage. Some may call it morbid, others, the ones who have also walked this path, know that referring to it as a stage is accurate. The wooden platform with a single beam above it and a rope hanging from said beam is a stage. I am just a player on this stage forced by choice and circumstance to follow the part I have been given by the director.


    I see the Director of this maudlin play. He is staring at me from his balcony at city hall. His clothes are bright and clean, fitting for one such as he, being from the east. They think they are civilized out in the east, they are not, we are all animals who will do terrible things if we have to, civilization is just a polite veneer that allows society to function.


    I walk the rest of the way to take center stage. The extras and supporting cast are already waiting for me, their faces dour, their eyes shadowed by their hats from the noon sun. I look out on the crowd, normally a hanging is celebrated with food, dance and song. However, on this day, silence rains, only the wind and the sound of the stage¡¯s wood bending makes a noise.


    I see the audience and in it are those I recognize, there to see me in my final act, a final dance as it were. I see Maggie, standing on the balcony of the saloon, her black hair contrasted by her fair porcelain skin and blood red lips. She sees me look at her and I see her start to lose her composure and she turns away. I should have married her, I should have just gone and married her and settled down somewhere else. We talked often enough about it. I understand seeing me die will be difficult to look at.


    I see Molly, my brother''s wife and their kids looking down on me. Seeing them I feel a lump in my throat. I failed them. My brother¡¯s last wish was for me to take care of them¡­and instead I am here waiting to die, and they are up there in the clutches of the man who orchestrated his death. If only I was a better man, one who was not easily swayed by his anger. I should have just taken the money and left, raised my brother''s kids and kept them safe. It would have been an easy task and something my brother should have been able to trust me with¡­in fact he did¡­


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    Next to my brother''s family standing there I see the director of this play. He is wearing clothes befitting his station. Festooned in a suit that he no doubt bought back east, crimson colored like the blood on his hands¡­and the blood on mine. I stand in the middle of the stage, the hangman puts the noose over my head. The rough twine rope gets pulled tight around my neck in preparation for the final act and final drop of my life.


    ¡°Has the condemned any last words?¡± I hear the priest say.


    ¡°I do Father.¡±


    ¡°Then speak to them for the community to hear.¡±


    ¡°While I gave my final confession to the Father last night, there is one thing I did not confess to, for it was not a sin. What I am being hanged for today was not a sin but JU..¡± I hear the door beneath me go before I feel myself fall. I close my eyes and count to the snap. ¡®1..2..3.¡¯ and then I feel the rope suddenly go taught. It digs into my throat making me involuntarily try to grab it and get it off. However, with my hands bound behind me this is a pointless and futile gesture. I am not granted the quick death. I open my eyes as I start to choke. I see the crowd gasp and look upon me. Everything starts to become fuzzy slowly as I helplessly dangle and try to get air that won¡¯t come. As my vision starts to fade I lock eyes with a man, who dressed in all black glaring at me with a smirk on his lips, there is a hunger in his eyes, the kind I saw during a harsh winter in the Dakota¡¯s when men lost their veneer of civility and returned to being predators with only hunger in their eyes. As we look at each other I feel an anger well up inside at this whole situation. The injustice, the regret, the man who killed my brother, and the man that put me here. It was a brief flame of anger that fades as I do. ¡®It''s a little hot out to be wearing black¡¯ is the last thing that goes through my head as I finally drift away.

 chapter 2

    The Light, It was bright, and hot. As I approached it I felt as if I was on fire. A burning sensation filled me as I got closer and closer towards it. The pain was great, but bearable and strangely comforting. This will be a poor comparison but it was akin to licking a scab it hurt to do but once done was satisfying. Then, I felt lines of cold form around me, as if chains from cocytus had caught me. They started pulling me back, down and away from the light¡­


    ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living Mr. West. Pardon the sulfur smell that particular incantation calls for it and mama always taught me it''s better to do things the right way or not do them at all.¡± A voice says as my eyes adjust to a man with a black shirt, black tie and black duster looms above me. ¡°Well your body was still mostly fresh when I exhumed it so you should still have your voice box. Can you talk?¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I ask an obvious question but my head hurts worse than the morning after I had gotten back home from the war and saw friends I hadn¡¯t seen in years. A lot of drinking went on that night and when I had woken up I was in Maggie¡¯s room and my soldier''s pay was gone. Gone not being the operative word, more like spent. Buying rounds for everyone will do that.


    ¡°Who am I? That is the obvious question but not one I will answer succinctly you can just call me¡­¡± he paused with a finger to his lips and then smiles a gold tooth shines in his face as he says with a cheshire grin, ¡°Mr. Black. More importantly I am the one who brought you back to the land of living my boy! There is an injustice that must be righted in the world, you know of what I speak. I have elected you the person most familiar with the situation to be the one who rights it.¡±


    ¡°There is injustice going on everywhere Mr. Black. What do you mean by bring me back?¡± I say as my mind tries to remember something but can¡¯t. All I am left with is a feeling of loneliness and coldness I have never felt before.


    ¡°Hehehehe¡± he laughs, a bit like some prospector who just found gold. ¡°Well I brought you back because I saw your eyes and they had the look of a man quietly enraged with what had occurred, most would think that it is because you were being hanged. But that isn¡¯t it, is it Mr. West? You know you failed to do what is right and you seek to correct that mistake isn¡¯t that right? It is really just an intuition on my part. I don''t know your story, but as payment for me bringing you back and this stew I have made, I would be most obliged to have you share it with me, I would like to have it. Your story that is.¡±


    I look at him in the eyes¡­a blackness is in those eyes bottomless and with a pull that threatens to pull me in forever. I look at the embers of the fire. To remove myself from their empty black embrace.


    ¡°I will share my story but there ain¡¯t much to tell and it ain¡¯t all that interesting.¡±


    ¡°Well let me be the judge of that Mr. West, I¡¯ll get the bowls.¡±


    He grabbed two bowls and ladeled the brew into both and handed me one with a piece of hardtack.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t had this since the war.¡± I say about the hardtack holding it up checking for worms. Lucky me, the protein was confined to the stew.


    ¡°The good cooking is what everyone misses about being a soldier,¡± he chuckles as he sits down. ¡°So tell me friend, what led you to be hung? Hanged? A portrait is hung and a person is hanged so hanged.¡± he says with his weird grammar aside.


    ¡°Well I have been doing bounty hunting work over the west. Seems fairly easy after my time in the army and I haven¡¯t been able to stay in one place too long. Nothin¡¯ feels like home anymore and bounty hunting keeps me in an inn and fed and able to go to the next town. I do have family here though. My brother,¡± I go ahead and break up the hardtack and mix it into the stew, ¡°he decided he would be a decent man and he staked a claim and built a ranch. Small at first but he was always a hard worker and over time he was able to make a good livin¡¯. I come in to visit whenever I am near, which isn¡¯t as often as I should have¡­.¡± I remember all the times he tried to get me to stay, and offered me a place. I couldn¡¯t though no matter how much I wished for it. ¡° Anyway, he had a wife he met out here and some kids¡­¡± I cough as a pain radiates from my throat, as if i had cut myself way to many times shaving and then poured alcohol on the wounds. I start to resume speaking but stop myself. Why am I talking to this stranger spilling out my life story at his say so. I don¡¯t even know who he is. I look over at him in the dim firelight of the campfire. I see the outline of his hands that appear to be covered in black gloves and there is something faintly silver swirling around them. He notices my pause and my stare.


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    ¡°I would be careful talking too much after that hanging. I may have brought you back from the dead but the wounds you suffered in death remain. You are lucky your neck didn¡¯t snap hard to hide an injury like that.¡± he says and I notice that he is trying to derail my thoughts with his words.


    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question Mr. Black what do you mean by bringing me back? I am keen to know what you mean by that.¡± I say pointedly.


    ¡°Ah well if there is no shaking it I will tell ya. I brought your soul back from wherever it was and reshackled it to your body.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I ask, it seems the most pertinent question out of the several swirling inside my head.


    ¡°Why? Why indeed sunny boy. I brought you back because I too have an issue with the mayor, though not as strong as you do. In fact, I was in town to resolve such business when I came upon the hubbub that was going on. Fairly somber affair for a hanging so I figured that the people must not be approving of what is going on. Is that fair to say?¡±


    ¡°It is, the mayor got the hanging judge to approve it, said he needed his swift justice.¡± I say as I rub my neck trying to ease the burn.


    ¡°Ah makes sense you have to love the state, its power is undeniable and infallible ain¡¯t it? Anyway, after hearing some rumors of what went on after applying the appropriate trade in booze I figured if I brought someone like you back you could bring about the proper justice this time around. With you bringing someone like the mayor to justice I would be able to do my proper business everyone wins i figure.¡±


    ¡°And what is your business Mr. Black?¡± I say regretting the words as they left my mouth. This man claims he brought me back from the dead so I could kill the mayor, at least that''s the subtext of his words. If he does something so major, so unnatural against God¡¯s law as to resurrect the dead to kill someone else, it would have been probably better to not ask what his business is.


    ¡°Well my boy.¡± He says and his face, never fully revealed in the darkness becomes more visible and I see a pleasant unassuming smile that mirrors the delight in his eyes as he says ¡°My business is all business. I make deals. An Entrepreneur is what you can call me. I help people out with investment and when they do well I smile and take my agreed upon cut. It¡¯s a good business.¡±


    ¡°I never asked nor agreed to come back so if you are waiting for a price from me, I wouldn¡¯t hold my breath.¡± I say trying to hold some composure as I sit up and start dusting myself off.¡±


    ¡°I would not ask for a price as someone else made the deal. However, are you willing to let the Mr. Easterman Mayor of the great town of Golden Gulch get away with his crimes and not only that leave him unhindered to commit more? Do you wish other families to be in the same situation as your Brother¡¯s family? You were in jail for a while awaiting the judge and his sentencing and you weren¡¯t allowed any visitors by the new sheriff. I bet you don¡¯t even know what''s left of his family, what they have been reduced to to make ends meet. Can you abandon them as well?¡± He says, noticing the look  in my eyes. ¡°I thought not,¡± he says, facing me. His face was still covered in shadow. He throws a package at me. ¡°It''s a cavalry pistol corporal like the one you had in the army, with some shot. That should help you get started and I would recommend you wear something to cover your neck scar. He turns to take his leave and holds up his right arm and waves. ¡°Say Hi to the Mayor for me Mr. West¡­¡± he then turns and cocks his head and makes that smile again, ¡°and may justice be done.¡± he then starts chuckling and leaves the cave for me to contemplate the situation in silence.

 chapter 3

    Night had started to fall on my brother¡¯s farm. Finding my way should not have been easy in the dusklight. However, as the darkness fell my ability to see did not. I knocked on the door to the house. Only the wind proffered an answer. I pushed open the door and looked for a lantern or something to get some light in the dark. I found one after fumbling around in the weird twilight that my vision started to become in the dark. I go into my pockets to find a match to light the lantern. The warm light coming from the lantern illuminates the front room. There is a small layer of untouched dust on everything and I went to the bedrooms. Both the kids bedroom and the main bedroom were empty. ¡®What happened, where is Molly? Did she take Patrick and Geneva somewhere¡¯ I think as I look around.


    I go to an armoire in the bedroom. I gave my brother a chest to look after, my old uniform and some unofficial weapons I bought for me to use during the wars that I didn¡¯t use during my time as a bounty hunter. Metal cartridges are much easier to use than paper after all. I find the false bottom of the armoire, I lift it up and bring out the medium sized chest. I set it on the bed and opened it revealing the contents by lantern light. My old cavalry uniform and coat I had retired in during my time in the Union army, there were also 6 colt navy revolvers with bullets, caps and powder to load them all 3 times. Gun belts and shoulder holsters to hold all of them and my henry repeater, my golden boy I used to call it, I stopped using it due dust always getting in the bullet tube. I started to load each and every pistol slowly and carefully making sure to load them in a way so that they wouldn''t chain fire on me. Then I see it, one of the trophies from the first war I was in. A weird pistol some officers in the south decided to use. It had a nine shot cylinder, which was odd but not too startling. What made it unique was what the cylinder spun around, a short barrel you could load grapeshot in, the Lagant it''s called.


    I remember when I got this, I wasn¡¯t calvary at the time, just simple infantry and very young. It was in miller¡¯s cornfield, I chanced upon a very lost confederate and sent johnny marching home earlier than he planned. I took his horse and then rode through the rest of that charnel house shooting as many of them as I could find. After the battle I got dressed down by my officer for that, but due to my shown skill on a horse, I was also invited into the calvary. I stop reminiscing when I feel, no feel ain¡¯t quite the word, sense hits closer but see would be most accurate a man entering the room behind me revolver in hand.


    As I recall this part, I struggle to say ¡°see¡± as I was not facing him but he radiated something off of him that I could at once see, and smell. I could see a dull light emanate off of him, and the smell, I can only describe the feelings it elicited from me. I felt at once both hungry and angry. I turned and faced the person and then as I saw his face and then the muzzle of his revolver flashes and I feel a stinging and burning pain in my stomach.


    The pain of the first shot is sharp as it burns and stings in my chest, however it was not as painful as I have come to expect from previous gunshot wounds. For I have been shot before, in fact when I was hung I stillI had a bullet buried in my shoulder. That shot hurt more than this one. Four more flashes in quick succession come from his revolver and each one hurts, but less than the last. Then I see his face, it is one of the deputies of the former sheriff.


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    Former sheriff because I put a bullet in the back of head while he was playing cards. He had it coming after killing my brother, killing a man since he wouldn¡¯t sell his land is a gutless and cowardly reason to kill a man and unbecoming of someone supposed to uphold the law. Even if the man he was saying no to was Mayor Eastman, the Sheriff Eastman¡¯s brother. My brother had struck oil on his ranch and knew he could get more money from his land, unfortunately so did the Eastman brother¡¯s and I assume they figured a widow would be easier to pressure into getting her to sell them the land cheaply.


    I pulled out my revolver from its shoulder holster, ignoring the dull pain in my chest, and put a bullet center mass into the befuddled deputy. A gut wound, which he will die from, albeit slowly. He looks at me as he clutches his chest, surprise registering in his eyes as he recognizes my face. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be dead¡­¡± he stammers.


    I go over to him, blood seeping out from my own wounds making the clothes i am wearing stained with my blood. ¡°I got better¡± I rasp as I kneel. I am so angry I want to both watch him die slowly in front of me and bash his head in on the ground till he stops moving. I make a sign of the cross and try to control myself. ¡°Answer me this question and I will go ahead and end your life quickly so you don¡¯t linger and suffer. How many of Eastman¡¯s men are in town and has he got any more since his brother died?¡±


    The man coughs out some blood and shakes, he has started to go into shock already. ¡°Not yet,¡± he says blood coming out of his mouth as he talks, ¡°this one man from the Railroad offered him some security from the Pinkertons if he also allowed a trainline to be built to this town, but Eastman has so far declined, says the man is to sketchy and would rather get a pipeline to the next town, cheaper in the long run to maintain and more profit for him.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I say, then I have to hold myself back, not only is the anger there, I also now have this hunger welling up inside, and the smell emanating and permeating the air that is coming from him makes me want to bite into him. To tear his flesh with my mouth as he lives and devour him physically and torturing him with that pain as he dies. I long ago swore to never do that again, to never eat anyone no matter the circumstance and definitely not to someone who is still alive. I put the pistol to his head, ¡°May you find peace with the Lord¡± I struggled to say and then I pulled the hammer back on the revolver and pulled the trigger, blowing his brains onto the floor.


    I then run around opening every cabinet and cupboard looking for something, anything to eat. The hunger is overwhelming, more powerful than any hunger I have ever experienced including my times in the Dakota¡¯s. I chanced upon some potted meat and jerky and canned peaches. I devour them quickly as if I have not eaten in days. The meat and jerky are especially satisfying, more so than the sweet canned peaches. I feel something weird in my stomach and lift my shirt, the bullet holes proceed to close up and heal before my eyes. ¡°That is not natural¡­¡± I think I still have some hunger but it is manageable now.

 chapter 4

    I look at the man dead on the ground, the food flavor still on my tongue. I stare at the blood and brains that have dirtied my brother''s farmstead home. As I pause a minute to take a breath a voice comes from behind me.


    ¡°So this is how you left everything.¡±


    I turn quickly around to see a man standing in the doorframe of the bedroom. I begin to reach for my pistol as he speaks again.


    ¡°Hold on their Nick,¡± The man says as he puts his arms up to show he had no ill intent ¡°I didn¡¯t come to kill or maim you. I came to talk and understand.¡±


    ¡°Who are you stranger?¡± I say as I look him up and down, something striking a familiar cord with my memory, like remembering a tune from childhood and being unable to place it. ¡°I feel we have met before and yet I can not place you. You will have to forgive the hostility¡± I motion to the corpse on the floor, ¡°I am a little on edge due to recent events.¡±


    The strange and yet familiar man sighs a little. ¡°Nick, others who have been in this situation have shown something to help people know who they are. I want to move to unbutton my shirt and show you something. I think you will be able to place me then, may I?¡±


    ¡°Strange request stranger, sure, do it slowly and no quick movements.¡± I say hand on my pistol. Then as I watched him begin to unbutton his shirt I had a thought pop into my head unbidden. ¡®Kill him, he is reaching for his gun¡¯. I kept control of myself as the thought came through my mind. A strange thought, and errant thought, and one that passed by as it conflicted with my observation as I watched him and my perhaps ill-founded confidence in my recently observed invulnerability. ¡®No reason to get jumpy and kill someone without good reason especially if someone happens to get the jump on me I apparently have a new found immunity to bullets.¡¯


    As I have these thoughts I watch the situation with the stranger. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and then pulls it apart revealing scars of three bullet wounds, center mass. I feel dumb and unobservant as the obvious clicks in my head. These wounds are the ones that Molly described to me when I came into town, ready to see my brother for the first time in a year. I see in the strangers eyes the light, the sparkle that I always saw in the eyes of my brother. That endless optimism that even when I would write to him during the war and update him on what I was going through I would always get back these hopeful and amazing stories of what we should do once I got out. No matter the darkness he would always find the light to set a sight on.


    ¡°Eli¡­¡± I say, unable to bring a million thoughts running in my head into words. Finally I settled on the simplest thought to speak ¡°how?¡±


    ¡°Normally, most people would not be able to see me or talk to others like me. YOu are special Nick. You are half in and half out. There are others who will seek you out and others who will try to use you. I am here to give you some simple advice. Pray, listen to those who are holy and you will be able to feel that, and finally take care of Molly and my kids. Yes, I was killed unjustly and those who did that did it maliciously but killing them does not bring me back or help out my now widow and fatherless kids.¡± I see a tear roll down his eye. ¡° Justice isn¡¯t killing all those responsible, justice is making sure those that are still around after the crime are made sure to be made as whole as they can.¡± He then looks at the corpse on the floor. ¡°And it would also be nice if you didn¡¯t make a mess of my former home.¡± He said as he cracked a smile.


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    I had an inclination that this was the last time I would see him in this world. I went up and grabbed my brother in a hug. ¡°I am sorry.¡± I squeezed harder not wanting him to leave, the last living family member. Even after all I had seen, all I had been through, he gave me hope. I always hoped that I could even have a life like more brother, he was the bar to which I aspired to. ¡°I won¡¯t mess up this time. I will find Molly and the kids and make sure they have everything we didn¡¯t and always hoped we would have.¡±


    ¡°I know you will, I always admired you Nick. You are back in this world, you will have temptations, fight them." My brother Elijah West, father of two, husband to Molly West, and simple farmer and homesteader said this to me as he let go of the hug and then walked out the front door and walked towards our families namesake and faded into the dark.


    I proceeded to take the man I killed¡¯s body outside, then I rolled up my sleeves and took a broom and gathered dust around the brain splatter and blood. I then swept the dirt that is now soaked with blood and brain juice, and dusted it outside.


    Then I located a shovel and dug a grave for my erstwhile assailant.  It takes a while however and yet strangely I feel no fatigue. Once done I lay his body inside and I began to cover it up. As I do from behind me I hear ¡°No one was supposed to be in that house, least of all you.¡±


    I turn around and I see the man I am burying looking up at me from the ground. ¡°You are still here?¡±


    ¡°Not for long¡± he goes deeper into the ground ¡°I feel myself going down, it¡¯s cold and empty, I don¡¯t want to go but what I want to do and what¡¯s happening are two different things, hard to refuse that truth now, I just want to ask you something that¡¯s why I am talking to you one last time.¡±


    I look at the man as he fades and goes deeper into the earth ¡°My family is dead, I never married but there was one girl in town that I spent a lot of time with, there is two double eagles in my pocket, if you could give those to her she is at Marty¡¯s. Say it is from Tom and that he had to move on and he enjoyed the comfort she was able to give him while he was in town.¡±


    ¡®Don¡¯t, he shot you tried to kill you, how dare he ask something of you like this¡¯ I shake the thought away. ¡°I will Tom, may you find peace.¡± He fully fades and I take the coins out of his pocket and put them in mine. I finished burying him.


    I make a sign of the cross and pray ¡°Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death amen. I then go back inside to finish gathering supplies.


    As I take my time and change out my clothes, luckily the uniform still fits, I notice the early light of the dawn coming through the shutters of the house. ¡®This took all night¡¯ I think and realize that I don¡¯t feel the call of sleep at all. I open the shutters and look outside, by horse the town was about an hour away, by foot probably four counti