The Son of Earp Box Set - Books 1-3 Page 15

  Nobody said a word.

  “If you go after that thing then mark my words, you will end up like the others. We are best off going about our regular lives and staying right here in our town. Ain’t nothing beyond those hills but evil.”

  Filler stood in the back of the crowd, holding a mug and his dish rag. “What about George? I heard the bastard ran off with James just like you boys did. They dead too?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “No. At least James is still alive. George is hurt real bad. Ain’t sure he’ll pull through. Gotta wait and see.”

  “Where is my son?” Sarah Johnson came through the crowd. Her eyes were full of tears and she dabbed at her face with her handkerchief. “Where is James?”

  “He kept going. On his own.” The crowd gasped in disbelief again. Sarah stepped forward with pain on her face. “I tried to talk him out of it, ma’am. But he insisted he see it through. Nothing I could have done unless I beat him with a stick.” Sarah dropped at the news and a few men helped her back to her feet.

  “The only thing we can do now, the best thing we can do, is pray for that boy. Pray that the hand of God protects him. Pray that George pulls through.” Wilson snorted at that comment. He obviously had little regard for the big man who tossed him into the street almost nightly. “This here is the work of the devil. And only God above can send it back to hell.”

  Chapter 43

  James tugged the reins hard. The horse obeyed and stopped immediately. He squinted across the fields to validate what he thought he saw. A figure was running toward him several hundred yards ahead. He struggled to identify the man. James thought it might be Crouching Bear. But something didn’t appear right. The man was definitely Indian as his skin was darkened and his long black hair flowed in the wind behind him.

  James’ stomach flipped inside. The nerves of a coming fight swirled through his intestines and caused some bile to creep up his throat. He swallowed hard and stared ahead at the man coming his way. It looked like it could be Crouching Bear but he was...naked. James leaned back, not believing his eyes. He had half expected to see Crouching Bear in George’s clothing since his garments were missing when they regained consciousness. He also figured that Crouching Bear might be wearing some of the clothes worn by the posse if he had ripped through the fibers again. He never expected to see Crouching Bear naked. Not now. Not at any time. It was so bizarre that James was frightened.

  The raging Indian was screaming as he ran across the wind-swept grass. The sounds were distant but getting louder as he neared. James’ horse whinnied as it sensed something dangerous. Perhaps evil, James questioned. He rubbed its neck and shushed the horse to calm its fears. He thought to himself he wished someone were rubbing him and ridding his own fears. Because he was scared. Very scared.

  James watched his friend approaching fast. He slid out of the saddle and pulled the handgun from the back of his pants. He raised the pistol at his friend and closed his left eye to aim through the sights. The Indian was still out of range of the gun but James wanted to try to scare Crouching Bear. It didn’t seem to work as the man kept running and screaming. James noticed his gun hand shaking and he tried to will it to steady, but his limbs ignored his brain.

  He checked the chamber and found it filled with six shots. James walked over to his saddle bag and dug out a handful of new bullets. He dumped the shells in his back pocket which was wider for his hand to slide in than the smaller pockets on the front of his dungarees. He sighted the pistol again, closing his left eye and staring down the barrel. Crouching Bear kept coming hard and was close to being in range. James hesitated. He intended originally to fire a warning shot so Crouching Bear would stop. Then he would try to talk to his friend before killing him. He wanted his friend to know that he liked him and was sorry for having to kill him. It wasn’t a revenge kill but rather a kill to save Crouching Bear from a life of pain and hurting others. Then James changed his mind to fire a shot at Crouching Bear as soon as he could. If he could put the man down with a shot from a distance then he could control the battle and do things by his terms. Now he changed his mind again. James thought he should just fire the warning shot and hope that the plan worked.

  James cocked the hammer back and steadied his hand as much as he could. He slowly squeezed the trigger, afraid of the loud bang and the recoil of the weapon. But he broke the trigger past the point of no return and the gun shot was off. The recoil wasn’t as bad as James had anticipated. However, the sound of the gun shot was much louder than James had counted on. His ears rang loudly, drowning out the screams of his friend.

  The bullet skittered across the dirt before the Indian’s feet and a hair to the left. Crouching Bear ran without pausing. The shot hadn’t affected his disposition in the slightest. James swallowed hard again. What could he do next? Should he fire again? Should he shield himself behind his horse? Maybe he should jump back on the horse and ride just far enough away to stay outside of Crouching Bear’s reach. He might tire the man down if he provoked the Indian to chase him all around. Crouching Bear was closing fast. James had to make a move now. He was out of time.

  James raised the gun again. This time his hand was steady. Full of conviction. He re-cocked the hammer. He closed his left eye and sighted in the target. “I will shoot you.” He yelled to his friend who either didn’t hear James’ threat over his own screaming or he had chosen to ignore James. Either way, James figured he had warned him. Fair and square. This would be on Crouching Bear.

  He pulled the trigger and the bullet punctured through Crouching Bear’s right shoulder. Blood sprayed behind the naked man as the bullet passed straight through. The hit stunned James’ friend but only for a brief moment. He continued to run at James. Before James could fire another shot, Crouching Bear slammed into him with all his might. Crouching Bear was bigger than James to begin with. Adding the Indian’s speed at a full sprint, the force of the men colliding was like a train barreling through a brick wall.

  James flew backward with the air leaving his lungs. He landed hard on the dry earth and Crouching Bear’s momentum carried him several yards beyond where James lie. Crouching Bear rolled over and sprung to his feet. James sat up, choking to get oxygen into his body. He had managed to hold onto the pistol and he raised it at his friend. James felt like one of his lungs collapsed. Or at least he imagined that this must be what it would feel like.

  Crouching Bear stood in front of James with blood dripping from the wound in his shoulder. His eyes glared with a red shine. The naked man’s muscles flexed and rippled as he poised for another attack. His skin started to change. Crouching Bear lifted his head to the sky and howled, a deep guttural howl that was more animal than human. Froth filled the corners of his lips. James looked on in horror.

  Chapter 44

  Crouching Bear felt the changes consuming him. He recognized the signs now, when the transformation was about to take hold. His blood would boil within his veins. The burn would quickly turn into an itching sensation as if millions of insects crawled within the vessels of his body. Yet he knew he couldn’t scratch the itch or get at them. He felt his skin warm and stretch. It moved on its own to accommodate the shifting bones. It was terrible the first time it happened. But each successive instance had become more welcome. A part of him. A natural cleansing almost.

  He roared at the spirits above and looked at his bullet wound. The hole in his shoulder sizzled and shrunk as the fur and skin swallowed up the absence of flesh. His mouth and nose protruded into a muzzle, a snout dripping with saliva. Crouching Bear fell to his knees and his back arched toward the sun. The splintering crunch of his spine stretched his torso to twice its length. The hands and feet bloating with cartilage, becoming pads and paws. His nails turned blacker than night and thinned, growing inches beyond the fur. Skin rippled as it moved to allow room for denser bones and thicker musculature. Dark fur bristled through tiny pores, agonizing the Indian as they sprung through and then drooped under their weight.

  Ja
mes’ horse whinnied and ran off.

  Crouching Bear felt more than a man. He was awesome. Powerful. Fully realized. His mind had willed the change to overtake him almost as much as the anger had helped it along. He had more control of the beast. Its mind was his mind. Its desires were his desires. Its survival, his survival.

  Standing on his hind legs, Crouching Bear reached over eight feet in height. His perspective on the ground below chilled him. He imagined the hawk that drifted high above the canyons with such a mighty view. His mind realized that he preferred the beast instead of the man. Man was so limited but the animal was free. It had only nourishment, shelter and survival. Nothing more. No elders to answer to. No woman to control his manly desires. No children to burden his movements. Just the beast and whatever the beast wanted.

  He howled again and again. He watched James cowering in the dirt like the weak being he was. The fight was over before it started. Crouching Bear felt his blood surge through his veins with rage and the expectation of victory. He dropped down to all fours and stepped in the direction of his old friend. James spoke but he ignored the words. Time of talk had passed like the evening stars. There was nothing James could say to save his life now.

  Crouching Bear lunged at James and swiped his massive claws across the gun barrel. The pistol flew in the air. James crawled backwards on his rear to escape the bear. He wasn’t about to let the boy escape. He flung himself at James and landed on his legs. James shrieked and kicked as hard as he could. The shin bones slammed into Crouching Bear’s stomach without damage. Crouching Bear thought to himself how he hardly even felt the kicks against his beefy mid-section.

  He leaned down to tear a hunk of James’ stomach away. James twisted just enough that the bear’s jaw only clasped dungarees and some shirt tail. The button to the dungarees popped off in Crouching Bear’s mouth. He let it fall to the dirt before accidentally swallowing it. It angered him that James evaded his bite. Crouching Bear raised his furry arm and drove the claws into the left bicep of his old friend. James screamed as he tried to crawl out from under him on his side. Now he had James pinned to the ground through his arm. Blood squirted into Crouching Bear’s face, spray reaching his tongue. It tasted salty and warm and it made him hungry for more.

  James squirmed under the claws as they buried deeper into his flesh. Each time he wriggled more skin tore away and blood flowed. The boy swung his other arm into the snout of Crouching Bear. The force of the punch stunned him and he thought to himself that he definitely felt the blow. It angered him more and he snapped his jaws at the retreating fist. The teeth clicked together as the bite missed. Crouching Bear ducked his head to try to bite James stomach. He wanted to eviscerate the boy and thrash his innards across the field. His downward motion was thwarted as James brought a rock into his mouth. The stone broke a few of his front teeth off, a couple falling to the ground, and one got swallowed as he sucked in air.

  Crouching Bear stood on his hind legs in visceral reaction to the broken teeth. It hurt badly to have the nerves inside the teeth exposed to the elements. He bellowed in anguish. He was almost beside himself at how the events were unfolding. His initial impression was a swift and easy defeat over James. Yet he kept encountering setbacks and counter-moves. His mind became a jumble of confusion, rage and self-doubt. Had he underestimated James? Did James possess a talisman of some sort that was protecting him from the attack. He couldn’t help but think back to the curse. Perhaps the curse was more than he had figured. Maybe there was no way to win and bury the curse along with his tormentors.

  Crouching Bear roared once more and fixed his gaze upon James. James had gotten to his feet and was frantically searching for the handgun. He clutched at his wounds, applying pressure to the four bloody holes in his arm. His eyes grew wide as he looked for the pistol. Watching James’ reaction renewed Crouching Bear’s confidence. He knew he still had the upper hand. He had to strike while James was scared and wounded. And it helped that he no longer had the gun in his hands.

  Crouching Bear growled and charged James again.

  Chapter 45

  James watched in horror. Even though it was the second time he had seen the transformation, it was no easier to accept. Crouching Bear screamed as the bullet wound on his shoulder smoked and then shrank. James couldn’t believe that the hole almost sealed up with no ointments or bandages.

  He winced when the loud crack of bone popping sounded. Crouching Bear’s skin stretched and shifted outward to allow room for his bones to grow into those of the bear. Fur squiggled out of his skin and quickly covered his misshapen body. His hands and feet had turned into paws with long black nails. James worried more about the claws than anything else. Those claws could do a lot of damage to a man before the sharp teeth even got close to him.

  The whole transformation took only seconds. Crouching Bear screamed and howled throughout the process. James’ horse didn’t stick around to see the finish. He watched the horse run off quickly. James watched the bear stand on its hind legs and bellow at the sky. He was mesmerized by the enormous size of the animal. It had to be over eight feet tall if it was an inch.

  Crouching Bear kept howling, staring down at James. He knew he had to move but he was practically paralyzed with fear. The confidence and determination escaped James as he wet himself. If he weren’t so scared out of his mind he would have chastised himself for displaying such a sign of immaturity.

  James shook the fog from his brain and raised the pistol at his friend. As he tried to cock the hammer, Crouching Bear lunged at him and swung his massive paw at James. The paw connected with the barrel of the gun and sent the weapon flying. Surprised by the blow, James scrambled like a crab on his backside. He had to get away as fast as he could.

  The bear jumped on James’ legs. The sheer weight of the animal forced a scream out of him. He kicked his legs up and down to hurt Crouching Bear. Instead his legs bounced off the soft belly of the beast with ineffectual results. James struggled with how to escape. The bear was much too big and very fast. He was in a panic to figure things out while fending off the beast.

  Crouching Bear thrust his muzzle at James’ stomach. James tried to roll on his side to protect as much of his organs as possible. The bear chomped down, tearing away a section of his pants. It nearly missed disemboweling him.

  Then his friend dug his claws into James’ bicep, pinning the arm to the earth. James screamed so hard his throat got sore. He felt each individual claw, four of them, wriggling through his muscles. The warmth of his blood leaking down his arm. Some of James’ blood had squirted into Crouching Bear’s muzzle. Red droplets decorated the furry snout. James tried to wrestle his arm free but each time he moved the claws tore away more flesh making the wounds bigger.

  In a last ditch effort to survive, James swung his right arm at the bear’s face. His punch connected with the large nose. James thought he recognized stun in his friend’s eyes. So he punched again. Crouching Bear tried to bite his fist but missed. The sound of the teeth crashing together like a loud snap. James realized momentarily that he was no longer afraid. But he had to fight hard to survive. His hand bumped a large rock on the ground. James snatched it up and swung it around into the mouth of the animal. The timing saved James as Crouching Bear was trying once again to bite into his stomach. A few broken teeth bounced onto James’ chest.

  The strike definitely hurt Crouching Bear because he stood back up and roared at the sun. The sound was a mixture of anger and pain. James got excited for a moment that he might have a chance to defeat Crouching Bear. It would be a small chance, but he would take anything at this moment.

  He took advantage of Crouching Bear’s anguish and climbed to his feet. He had to find his gun but he had no idea where it landed. He didn’t pay attention to its trajectory because he was focused on avoiding the attack. His left bicep throbbed. As he frantically searched for his weapon, he clasped his bleeding wounds to stem the flow. The holes burned like he was a cattle getting branded. A brief t
hought flashed across his mind that he was glad he wasn’t a steer.

  James searched desperately. He spun in a circle, his eyes wide. Searching. Looking. Nothing. His mind began to play images of his imminent death. He saw Crouching Bear stomping his body into the dirt, then gnawing on his bloody limbs. Carson was crying, walking aimlessly in a dense forest. Calling out his name. Lonely for his friend. The bear sucking the marrow from his bones. A long pink tongue lapping up the fragments that stuck to its lips. Carrion circled high above him as they awaited their turn at his dinner table. Crouching Bear sharing his meat with Carson because he was angry at James for introducing the Indian to his momma and then leaving Carson all alone in the world.

  The images played over and over. His search for the gun proving fruitless. A flutter in his gut telling him he had to snap out of this reverie. He was in mortal danger and he had to act fast. There would be plenty of time to reflect on his mistakes as the bear consumed his flesh.

  James gave up looking for the pistol. It was probably close-by but with everything going on he was sure he was overlooking its blatant location. He squeezed his arm tighter as he noticed the flow of blood soaking his shirt sleeve. All he could hope for was a chance to kill the bear. His horse was gone. The gun was lost. And he was quickly running out of strength and blood. James turned on his heels to face Crouching Bear. All the while the creature howled and roared but the hairs on the back of James’ neck pricked up.