A Sin of No Name

Eczar

THE REVELATION

NPCS |SAMUEL AND THERESA JAMES



Strange, what the mind concocted in a state of panic.

There was a flash of silver in Jorge and Mr. James’ peripheral vision. Samuel, for the moment, imagined the claws of a wild beast baring before him in the sunlight, and he grew very still in Jorge’s furious hands, an unnatural calm settling over him. But a second more, and the delusion was destroyed by a blink. He stared at the bandit grasping him.

“This is Highland. We’ve been cursed ever since we got here. The only reason I’ve got a fighting chance to save you folks is, ironically, Mr. Wick’s attempt to kill you. So you’d best hear me out, the lot of you.”

He paused.

“Theresa. Put that knife down.”

Theresa was at Jorge’s side, her blade high. “Let go my husband.”

“They’ll shoot you, damn it. Put that knife down. They’re scared enough as it is.”

The Native woman frowned deeply; nevertheless, her blade lowered, and she stepped back into her corner, her eyes going to Na as Mr. James’ gently yet firmly removed Jorge’s hands from around his lapels. He stepped back, eyeing Henrietta’s raised gun.

“We came to this place looking for fortune,” He went on, “Me and my wife. Highland was just a small mining operation then, but the general goods store made it an official town. Folks started piling in then. More miners, more shopkeeps, more of…everything. The mayor came along and named the place Highland. We finally found gold a short spell after.”

There was the crack of gunfire outside, and a yell. Samuel licked his lips, eyes flickering from the door to the gun pointed on him.

They were running out of time.

“We didn’t know it until later but the gold – it belonged to the first settlers here, a tribe of people, my wife’s people, after they had been forcibly resettled. When the miners came and drove them out, they…cursed the gold. Anyone who would touch it would be consumed by their greed for it. And when you’re consumed with greed, you become…one of those monstrous devils. Wendigoes, I’ve heard them called. And I don’t rightly know, but the damn mayor’s worked out a way to take control of them and get them working the mines. So the bloody bastard’s still aiming to make a profit at the expense of these hellhounds. The madman–”

A hellish shriek sounded outside, and every hair raised on the back of Mr. James’ neck. A shadow passed over the storefront; through the glass, a tall, gaunt figure on bowed legs stepped past slowly, its long canine snout sniffing at the air. Its long arms hung loosely at its side, and it turned about on the store porch, searching for something. Mr. James stayed silent until it left their view. Then he looked at Jorge again, his eyes hollow.

“Wicks is trying to stop them before their numbers grow while there’s still time. But it’s too late for the rest of us; once you’ve taken the gold, you’ll answer the call to the mines. My wife was only able to get a ward of protection to Miss Na, but even then, it can only stave off the call, not prevent it indefinitely. There’s only one way out of it, fellows.”

This time it was the shopkeep who grabbed Jorge, the fierceness in his gaze threatening to set him alight.

“I don’t know how, but you kill that bloody mayor.”
 
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Jorge had traveled a great distance before arriving at Highland. Long days and weeks of scorching heat, dry throat, sagging belly. Desperation had caused him to take up with these people, desperation for a few dollars with which to keep running from the law back west. But who could say what that mixture had done to his head? His brain was long weakened by years of alcohol imbibement, the sun and the thirst and the fear had likely only served to make him nigh an imbecile.

Perhaps that was why he agreed with Samuel. It might very well all be a fever dream brought about why nature's torture. Likely, the buzzards were circling above his form as he lay in some canyon somewhere, nearly starved, and this whole misadventure was his mind's last and grasping attempt at sparing itself the horror and humility of such a stupid death.

"Kill him?" Jorge repeated back. "Kill the mayor? Señor. This is quite the task you give us.

"But that puta has humiliated me by sending his dogs to lock me away. Kill him? Gladly. It will be a slow death."

He pulled Samuel's hands from his shirt then, eyes shining with eagerness, he opened his hand to Theresa.

"I need a weapon, Señora."

He smiled, thin and menacingly.
 
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From the far side of the room, there was a small metallic click.

The steel barrel that had so recently swayed back and forth across the room now pointed only at the worn boards beneath everyone's feet. The hand that gripped it was stiller now, though not beyond the occasional tremor.

“That slimy son of a whore of a Mayor brought us out here just to make us into one of those things…”

Behind Henrietta’s eyes images flashed. The lump of gold in her hands. The twisted dying creature. The poster that had brought her here. The mayors smiling face.

She had been certain the man was a no good shyster the first time she had set eyes on him, but being She’ had spent years surrounded by men like that. She had been wrong. The man was a cold blooded killer. The kind that normally lived out in the mountains by themself and you heard stories about them kidnapping travelers and eating them one little bit at a time. The kind that everyone knew only really existed to scare kids who thought they were tough and needed knocking down a peg or two for everyone’s entertainment. The kind that was barely human. The kind that didn’t exist.

Except this one did, and he had crawled his way into a suit too.

Another metallic click rang from the red-head’s hand.

Does that rat bastard hole up in his office, or does he have somewhere else he goes when he ain't using that dirty silver tongue of his.
 
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“There may be an easier way than shooting,” Na stated, the herbalist losing all pretense of quietude. Her eyes had hardened to black chips of jet, her brow furrowed. She looked back outside, to the creatures wandering. He would be guarded. At best, she had six shots, and who knew of those would meet their mark?

They needed to kill the mayor.

But they needed to stay alive long enough to get there in the first place. He would be well defended. There had to be a better option.

”Do you have dynamite?” Na asked. “This is the mining town, yeah? Then you should have explosives.“

She looked to the others inside the general store. Theresa’s ward remained in her pocket, keeping the call at bay.

“We blow the damn whole building,” Na hissed. “Bringing it down on top. Bury him in it, and bury them.

She gestured to the creatures outside the windows, jerking and unnatural.