It was 6:49am when Jack Denham died,\nprecisely. This according to Doc Miller, who\u2019d found the burnished silver\npocketwatch smashed beside him. I have to credit the doc for not taking it as\nhis own; smashed or not it was a nice timepiece, and by the boasts Denham\u2019d\nmade alive, it was an expensive one. But Doc Miller tucked it into a pocket of\nDenham\u2019s denim, and he had Mac Burly and Jack O\u2019Hara lift the poor sod into the\nwagonback. Hadn\u2019t been cleared out recent, so Denham\u2019s corpse lay atop some\nchickenfeed meant for Mears at the general store. It wernt the Doc Miller\u2019s\nwagon, and wouldn\u2019t have been polite to toss the sacks in the dust, not even\nfor a corpse. Perhaps especially not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\ngot called in by Jack O\u2019Hara, who told me he\u2019d just unloaded Jack Denham\u2019s body\noutside the doc\u2019s office with a gaping hole in his chest. Mac Burly was still\nthere when I arrived, trying to keep back the rubberneckers at the doc\u2019s\nrequest. I pushed my way through the little scrum, and Mary Lightly almost gave\nme a dressing-down til she realized it was me and not some other offender.\nMary\u2019s not too bad, on the average, but her husband Benjamin spent a lot of\ntime in my office, sitting just on the other side of the bars. Drunkenness,\nmost times, though Billy\u2019d brought him in once or twice on more serious business.\nAnyway, I pushed past Mary and then Mac, and stood beside the body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As\nreported, there was a goodly chunk of Jack Denham\u2019s chest missing in action,\nabout the size of the doc\u2019s closed hand. He was kneeling beside Denham, pulling\nidly on his sideburns as his other hand explored the edges of the wound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nasked the doc if Denham\u2019d taken a fencepost through the chest. I tried to make\nmy voice deep, on account of even if the onlookers wernt supposed to be there,\nthey were, and I figured it was important to sound assured. Doc Miller\u2019d looked\nup at me, and I was glad to be blocking his face from the gogglers behind. It\nwouldn\u2019t do to have em see the doc all concerned and confused like that, not at\nall. And the doc sure did look concerned and confused, his face all wrinkled up\nand his mouth in an awkward slanting line. It was a moment before he spoke, and\nwhen he did I wondered, not for the first time, where the hell Billy was at\nwhen he could be here beating back the crowd. \u201cI ain\u2019t got a clue what\u2019s done\nthis,\u201d is what the doc told me, eventually. He let me know he\u2019d measured the\nthing, and it was perfectly a circle, and the edges were smooth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nasked the doc if perhaps the Arapaho had come up with a new spear. Doc just\nshook his head. He didn\u2019t seem to have much more to say on the matter, and\nopened and closed his mouth a couple times like a caught fish. I\u2019d take a lap\nof the body in a minute, trying to see if I could maybe identify who\u2019d killed\nJack Denham. Meanwhile, I told Mac Burly to shoo off the onlookers, and sent\nJack O\u2019Hara to find Billy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNeed\nto clear off, all of ya,\u201d I announced to the crowd, my face still pointed\ntoward Jack\u2019s pale deathmask. \u201cI need space, and anyone hangs around other than\nMac and Jack and the doc, I\u2019ll lock em up and call em a drunkard til I\u2019m done\nhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Denham\u2019d\nalways been a pale fella, you remember, the nice browning most of us took out\nhere hadn\u2019t ever quite taken on his skin. This was a new degree, though, and a\nsimilar one to what I\u2019d seen of consumption deaths, but Denham\u2019d been hearty\nand hale just four days ago when I saw him at Debby\u2019s. I supposed it a boon to\nme that Denham didn\u2019t have a wife, or a girl I knew of, so I\u2019d be spared the\ntelling. Other than the pallidness of it all, Jack didn\u2019t look much harmed. No\nscratches, not on his hands, not on his face. No other wounds, and not much\ndirt. And not a drop of blood \u2013 not a damn drop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There\nwas a rock in my gut by the time I spoke, having waited til Mac Burly cleared\nall the others away. \u201cDoc,\u201d I said, \u201cwhere in the hell\u2019s all the blood?\u201d There wernt\neven any on the shirt, and the edges of the hole in that one were smooth too,\nalmost like they\u2019d been hemmed that way. \u201cYou didn\u2019t clean it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m\ntelling you I haven\u2019t got a clue. Not one.\u201d The doc had stood up, and stuck his\nhands in the pockets of that shotgun coat he always wore, you know the one. \u201cIt\ndon\u2019t even look like he tried to defend himself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\ndidn\u2019t, and it was when the doc said this I noticed what was missing, too,\nother than the red stuff. Denham\u2019s holster was empty, flat and void, with the\nhammer tie-down ripped in two. \u201cD\u2019you leave his gun out there? I think it was\nranch property, Liberty\u2019ll want it back.\u201d This reminded me I\u2019d still have to\ntell Liberty about Denham\u2019s death, but I figured Liberty\u2019d hear it in the\nsaloon anyhow, unless He worked a miracle and kept Daniel Hare\u2019s mouth shut who\nI\u2019d seen in the crowd. Getting a bit ahead of myself, He did not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\nweren\u2019t there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\ntook my leave from the doc with more questions than answers, on account of I\ndidn\u2019t think Denham\u2019s body would tell me much else. Before I left, I ran the\nidea of some sort of goring past Doc Miller, but he dismissed it and I was all\nout of theories. Maybe I\u2019d start with who could\u2019ve done it, not how, but as a\njumping-off point that didn\u2019t offer much. It was midday, by then, so I went\nback to the office and looked for whether Billy\u2019d shown up yet so he could\nthrow ideas my way. Could be Billy knew who\u2019d killed Denham.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Well,\nBilly wernt there when I arrived, just my hat I\u2019d left behind and some puke\nfrom whoever Billy\u2019d released early that morning. That\u2019d bee Billy\u2019s cleanup to\ndo. Not that I\u2019m lazy; I don\u2019t know of a single sheriff who wouldn\u2019t have a\ndeputy handle that sort of business. Anyway, that was my plan when I saw it,\nand smelled it, but it should be obvious to those of you who\u2019ve heard snippets\nit\u2019s not the way it panned out. I sat in my chair smelling that whisky-infused\nvomit for a while, just thinking on Jack Denham\u2019s death and that perfect sealed-off\nhole in his chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\nwas Jack O\u2019Hara, the ranchhand I\u2019d sent after him, that came back telling me of\nBilly\u2019s death. He\u2019d seen Denham\u2019s body too, but something wild was in him when\nhe burst through the jailhouse doors screaming about smiting and hellfire and\nthe Apocalypse of John. Seemed he\u2019d witnessed Billy die. \u2018Course, it took me a\nwhile to get it out of him, panicked as he was, and once I\u2019d gotten just that\nmuch he was fully off the rails and steaming toward a station he wernt supposed\nto visit, so I send him to the doc\u2019s to cool off. Doc Miller couldn\u2019t do much\nfor him, I found out later, and you might\u2019ve heard he hasn\u2019t spoken since, but\nthat\u2019s plumb false, he\u2019s just been quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What\nI did get from Jack O\u2019Hara\u2019s tale was this. He\u2019d been looking for Billy over by\nDel Rourke\u2019s stables, and Del had sent Jack out to Johnson Ranch, where he\u2019d\nseen Billy headed earlier. Jack got over there right quick, like I\u2019d told him,\nand found Billy alive. Some time later, as they were coming back, Billy died,\nand Jack wouldn\u2019t say much about why. He talked of dragons and lightning and\nthe endtimes, and kept repeating that young Bill was dead, smoked, and that was\nall I could glean from our talk. Some of it I\u2019ll admit I put together after\nsending Jack to Doc Miller; I did speak to Del Rourke later that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now\nI had two deaths on my hands, one of em my own deputy, and I can\u2019t say I was\nchamping to go over and see Billy\u2019s corpse by my lonesome, so I went to Debby\u2019s\nand took them as was there \u2013 Earl Pickett, Buck Reeves, and Bucks Addison \u2013\nwith me to the ranch. Daniel Hare volunteered to come likewise, but I could see\nin his eyes he\u2019d rabbit if the time came for a fight, and I told him to sit and\nhave another drink. Besides, if his speech indicated anything, his bullets was\nmore like to hit us than whoever was doing the killing. Debby herself insisted\non coming along also, and while I was at first in opposition, I am in\nreflection quite grateful for her presence, to understate somewhat the facts of\nthe case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Earl,\nBucks Addison, Debby and me went out on horses, thinking the mystery shooter\nmight need to be chased a bit. Buck Reeves went to get his from home, though he\nnever ended up joining us. Took us twenty or so to get there, and by then our\nhorses didn\u2019t serve much purpose, as who\u2019d done it was long gone. Billy\u2019s body\nwas hard for us to find, at first, but eventually we stumbled across it in the\nwest field, struck down just alike to Jack Denham, down to the smoothed-out\nedges of the hole. The difference, here, was that Billy\u2019s gun was present and\naccounted for, a Cattleman like mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nshould mention at this point that me, Earl, Bucks Addison, and even Debby were\narmed. I had that Cattleman I bought new out of Dodge City a few years back,\nand on top of that had brought the Winchester the man previous in my post left\nbehind. Bucks Addison had a pistol only, an old Volcanic if I recall correct,\nand Earl had two shiny Peacemakers, whose long snouts poked out the open bottom\nof his holsters. They were inset mother-of-pearl on the handle, more expensive\nthan he probably could afford. Earl always fancied himself a gunslinger, and I\nthink that day he figured to fire those guns. Debby, the stalwart, had appeared\na shotgun from beneath the bar when I gave out my call for volunteers, and\nshe\u2019d clung tight to it ever since, even riding. I had it in my head at the\ntime she\u2019d been sweet on young Bill, and still do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So,\nas I said, Billy\u2019s gun was where it ought have been, nestled in its leather\nslot, which I\u2019d given him as sort of an inaugural gift when he agreed to let me\ndeputize him. I looked down at his ugly face \u2013 some sort of pox or similar he\u2019d\nhad as a kid, or so my wife recalled \u2013 and thought that this one would be a lot\nharder to reconcile than the last. Jack Denham had hardly an attachment beyond\nhis work, where Billy here was a son and a brother and my very own deputy. When\nI\u2019d accepted the job upon the departure of one Mr. H—, I\u2019d anticipated my\nfair share of deaths, by the gun or the Indian or the rope, but it hadn\u2019t quite\nstruck me Billy could be one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\npicked up Billy myself. Bucks Addison wanted to help, but I waved him off, and\nI slung Billy over the back of Guinevere, where I fixed his body in place with\na bit of spare lariat off of Earl\u2019s mare, whatever her name was. We rode, the\nfour of us, back toward town right after, and it speaks to my shortcomings as\nan investigator that I didn\u2019t notice Billy\u2019s missing boots until we were\noutside Doc Miller\u2019s. I asked, but no one had seen em at the ranch, and Debby\nsaid he\u2019d been barefoot when we found him. I trusted her on that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Doc\nMiller came out all upset \u2013 he couldn\u2019t take a hysterical man along with two\nbodies, he told us \u2013 but we convinced him to keep a hold on Jack Denham and\nBilly at least until we could work out with George Berle how to pay for\ncoffins. He was undertaker, at the time, though he\u2019s since moved on. This\ndidn\u2019t make the doc happy, not by a shot, but he calmed enough to take Billy in\nout the eyes of onlookers and examine the corpse. He agreed with my internal\nassessment of the situation, in that the facts of the killing aligned quite\nsymmetrical to those of Jack Denham\u2019s death. The doc told me also he hadn\u2019t\nbeen able to get much more from Jack O\u2019Hara, who\u2019d been raving until a dose of\nlaudanum brought him some peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nleft Billy at Doc Miller\u2019s and went toward his mother\u2019s house with Bucks\nAddison and Debby in tow, Earl having quailed at the idea of helping break the\nnews to the old southern lady. Personally, I thought Bucks Addison had a better\nexcuse to stay behind, but he didn\u2019t take it and accompanied us to the door.\nCould be Earl\u2019d only come in the first place hoping for a shootout, and if so\nthen he left the party too soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\narrived at what was now just Billy\u2019s mother\u2019s place \u2013 his father having passed\na year previous, from something natural the doc hadn\u2019t been able to nail down \u2013\nwith about two hours having gone since we set out for Johnson Ranch. She opened\nthe door, and to her credit didn\u2019t make mention of Bucks Addison\u2019s presence. We\nbroke the news as gentle as we could do, but she took it hard anyhow and I\u2019d\nhoped to leave Debby with her to do the consoling as me and Bucks Addison did\nthe investigating. To my surprise, however, it turned out to be Bucks Addison\nwho took care of it, and he stayed with her for some time. Debby and I rode\noff, though I didn\u2019t know what progress we could hope to make. I\u2019d mulled it\nover some, and couldn\u2019t put a name to a single person in the town who\u2019d want\nboth Billy and Jack Denham dead. We\u2019d spoken to the headman over at Johnson\nRanch, or rather Debby had as I packed up the corpse, and he hadn\u2019t given us\nany real place to start either, hadn\u2019t seen anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ultimately,\nI elected to put off the investigation for a moment, given that Buck Reeves\nhadn\u2019t shown up and might be searching, even now, for the kid we all knew already\nto be dead. I\u2019ve always hated to waste a good man\u2019s time, and so I asked\neveryone I saw between Billy\u2019s and the office whether Buck Reeves\u2019d come by,\nand if so where he\u2019d been headed. Most hadn\u2019t seen him, but one that had told\nus he was placed convenient for our access \u2013 his horse was posted right outside\nthe sheriff\u2019s place. We were going there anyway, and I supposed it was a normal\nenough place to go for Buck Reeves if he\u2019d realized he wouldn\u2019t catch us at\nJohnson Ranch. Perhaps he did head up there and came back, it\u2019s possible as\nwell, though I never found out if he did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\nposted our horses outside the office. Debby\u2019s gave a bit of trouble, so we\ndidn\u2019t hear anything from inside as we tied em down through the sound of the\nwhinnies. The door was stuck, but not locked, and it did that sometimes back\nthen before Gem Martin put in the new door for me, so I put my shoulder to it\nand it banged open, startling them what was inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\nshould say first that Buck Reeves was now accounted for \u2013 we\u2019d anticipated this\nby the sight of his Morgan at the post where Guinevere was now tied. They were\nstill whickering at each other, I could hear behind me. The horse was mottled,\nand a good runner, and I think it ended up belonging to Cy Nowak, who got it at\nauction after the funeral. As to the state of Buck, that was more uncertain,\nthough I could say even then he wernt by his lonesome. I\u2019d been told once,\ndon\u2019t recall by who, that old Buck Reeves was born out Cook County, Arkansas. Now\nI don\u2019t know rightly whether that\u2019s the true place, or even if it\u2019s a place at\nall much less the one where Buck Reeves\u2019s mama brought him into the world. What\nI do know is it ain\u2019t where Buck Reeves died, because he died on a summer\nWednesday right in my sheriff\u2019s office, slumped across my desk. He lay like a\nperformer\u2019s doll, strings sliced in two. From where I stood, I could only see\nBuck\u2019s lower half, and a part of his torso, that along with the things around\nhim trying to pull off his vest and mostly failing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As you already know, and as this document\nstands as proof to, I am lettered. I say this not as a pride but a simple fact,\nand to explain the glass through which I viewed the things in my office. In my\nlife to this point, I\u2019d had the pleasure of reading five books, two I\u2019d found,\ntwo I\u2019d been given, and one I payed for. While I could list em all, the only\none worth putting your eyes to was a Twain one I think more apt folks than I\nhave already recommended. One of the others, though, was a collection of short\npieces from a bunch of stuffy Russians, put into English, though I\u2019m not fully\nassured the putting was done by a man what spoke Russian. The fact I got\nthrough it all was a point in favor of my dedication rather than any merit on\nthe book\u2019s part. One of the stories, the author of which I\u2019ve been told is well\nknown but whose name I can\u2019t say much less put to page, was about something\ncalled the Crocodile. It\u2019s a beast akin, I believe, to the alligators some\nsoutherners have displayed in zoos and tangled with in the swamps, though I\u2019m\nsure there is some distinction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\ncreatures in my office, standing between ourselves and the late Buck Reeves,\nresembled strongly my understanding of the Crocodile. At least from the dorsal\nperspective, and below the neck. They stood taller than me, about a head, on\nhind legs that were thick and muscled, covered \u2013 as was the rest of the body \u2013\nin dense scales, like a reinforced fish. They leant back on long tough tails,\nimpishly tapered to a point. The torso was bulky, almost like a bison, as I\nrecall, and it was there that the scales were thickest. I suspected a Sharps\nwouldn\u2019t do too much damage there, nor my Winchester. The head was bereft of\nthese scales, instead feathered in downy white all across the rounded dome. I\nhissed at Debby to aim for the head. She had, for which I was immensely\ngrateful, maintained possession of the shotgun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From\nhere out, I\u2019ll endeavor to record what the creatures said with all due\naccuracy, for as a fact they spoke. I shall try to put down only what I\ncomprehended, which was not the event in its entirety, and include what I did\nnot only as paraphrase. As I mention above, I had told Debby to aim for the\nhead, quiet in hopes of avoiding the attention of the beasts. In this case, I\nwas unsuccessful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words it spoke first were: \u201cDo what?\u201d It\ntook me a second to figure who\u2019d spoken, as Buck\u2019s dead body hadn\u2019t moved, his\nhead lolled back over the desk and arms dangling down to the rifle on the floor\n\u2013 a Sharps, which is why I mentioned it earlier. Besides, he\u2019d never sounded\nlike that. The creatures, as I\u2019ve said, were trying to remove Buck\u2019s vest,\nwhich was a hideous frilly thing he\u2019d always insisted on wearing. It was one of\nem who spoke. On an aside; years after this\u2019d occurred, I passed through a town\nin the Dakotas on travel, where I encountered a barkeep whose voice was the\nspitting image of this creature\u2019s. I learned he was English, although I remain\nconfident these beasts were not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The\nbeast that\u2019d spoken, at least I believe so, they\u2019d had similar voices, turned\nto face me, and its maw was protruding but strangely human, a long yellow\nduck-bill that ended with the lips of a man. This, I found more terrifying than\nthe foreign nature of all the rest of its appearance in combination, so\nrevolting a sight it was. It had no nose of which I could be sure, though on\noccasion feathers on its neck pulsated in such a manner I believed it could\nhave gills. Its eyes were wholly unfamiliar in construction, neither like a\nduck\u2019s nor an alligator\u2019s; there were three, all a bright and saccharine\nyellow, all with narrow pupils dashing and darting in every direction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Debby,\nbehind me, handled all of this better than I did, I maintain, by keeping her\nsilence. My words, on the other hand, were frankly preposterous in retrospect, given\nI just asked what the hell they were doing in my office. It was all I could\nthink of to say, although essentially each passing moment since I have thought\nof infinite phrases I would prefer to have said to the monstrosities upon first\nmeeting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m\nalways comforted somewhat by the fact that what the thing replied, in its\nabsurd accent, was similar in its odd-ness. It asked if I happened to have a\nhat, followed quickly by the dismissive, \u201cnot that bowler<\/em>, I mean,\u201d and a gesture toward the felt cap I\u2019d hung on my\npeg. I\u2019m ashamed to say I took some offense at this disparagement, which in the\nmidst of everything does seem a bit a minor point. <\/p>\n\n\n\n This\nwas when I lifted my Winchester toward the two, hoping Debby\u2019d the sense to put\nher shotgun to the same purpose. Knowing Debby better now, I imagine her load\nof buckshot was aimed long before I brought the rifle up, on account of she\u2019s\ngot much more sense than me. Nowadays, I don\u2019t know if I\u2019d be bold enough to\ndraw on them outright, given my hands shake and I never really was a crack\nshot, but then I figured the paths ahead both led to death \u2013 they had for Billy\nand Buck and Jack Denham \u2013 and I\u2019d rather be dead with a rifle fired and the\nsmell of gunsmoke in the air than otherwise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\nwas also around now I noticed they\u2019d pulled off Buck\u2019s vest entire, and he\ndidn\u2019t have the same odd hole in him that had Jack Denham and Billy West. A few\nmore seconds observation would\u2019ve told me then, though in actuality I didn\u2019t\nlearn til later, the hole wernt in his chest, it was in his head \u2013 had blown it\nclean off, actually. Yes, when I went around the room later on, I saw Buck\u2019s\nhead hadn\u2019t tilted backlike, it was gone complete, and bloodlessly so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh,\nsay it, say it \u2013 tell us to reach for the\nsky<\/em>,\u201d the one on the right put out, affecting his voice strange and deep\nfor the last few words. \u201cWon\u2019t you say it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Instead,\nI elected to get right to the point, and asked em what the hell they were. The\none on the left replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy,\nactors, of course! Well, an actor and a prop-master. You\u2019re not Bill H—-, are\nyou? Wouldn\u2019t that be great!\u201d This inscrutable response initiated a\nmoments-long conversation between the two of them only, which shed light on\nreally nothing from my perspective. Again, I can\u2019t speak much to accuracy or\nmeaning. I\u2019ve called the beasts Left-thing and Right-thing here, as I did\naround that time and afterward. The never switched spots, and I couldn\u2019t have\ntold em apart if they had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Right-thing\nclarified, correctly I suppose, that my own question had referred to their\nnature as creatures, rather than their mode of employ. He said this, his head\nshaking. At this, Left-thing had looked at me, nodding, and replied that they\nwere foreigners, \u201clike the war of the worlds,\u201d and asked if I was perhaps Bat\nMasterson, telling me \u201cYou\u2019ve got the mustaches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo,\nno,\u201d Right-thing had responded, and the image of his terrifying visage bobbing\nback and forth had fixed in my mind, \u201cTwenty years too early. Maybe fifteen,\nfor Bat. I\u2019d have to check.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay,\nwell, like men from the moon. You understand? Men from the moon?\u201d Left-thing had\nstared in my direction, and I gathered the query was intended for my response. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Dumbly,\nI\u2019d mimicked back his words, asking if they were truly from the moon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNot\nthe moon, no, but it\u2019s a conceptual thing, you understand?\u201d Left-thing looked\nat Right-thing, in what I now believe was a look of pity for myself and the\nsilent Debby. \u201cWe\u2019re extraterrestrials.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\ntold them they wernt like any horse-riders I\u2019d ever seen, and got to the point\nquick afterwards. \u201cYou killed Buck,\u201d I told em, and asked, \u201cD\u2019you kill Jack\nDenham and Billy also?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo\nidea,\u201d said Right-thing, \u201cwere those the tall guy and the fellow with the\nmessed-up face?\u201d He gestured with a scaly arm toward Left-thing, and I recall\nflinching and nearly squeezing the trigger. \u201cHe\u2019s got a gun from one, and boots\nfrom the other, if you want to confirm. Do you need it for a form or something?\nA receipt? Bill of sale?\u201d He paused. \u201cWe\u2019re just borrowing them, don\u2019t worry \u2013\nit\u2019s for our newest production, should be over in a few weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Left-thing\nhad nodded, and asked again if I had a hat. \u201cI\u2019d really <\/em>like to look authentic.\u201d I believe I shook my head here,\nthough perhaps I just stood in silence. In any event, Left-thing spoke again,\nsaying something about a day\u2019s travel in time not being wasted. As I\u2019ve\nmentioned repeatedly now, I understood little of this conversation, though I\nmake my best attempt to record it as spoken in hopes someone more intelligent\nmay be able to put things together on my behalf. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The one asked the other if he \u2013 or it, I\nsuppose \u2013 was ready to \u201chead out,\u201d and both picked up short black sticks from\nthe desk, whose handles protruded \u2013 and which were held in such a way \u2013 so that\nI still believe them to have been pistols of a sort. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I\nbelieve I fired first, but as I missed, it was hard to tell in the aftermath.\nCertainly, Debby fired soon after, and took my advice in aiming for the head.\nRight thing was blown clear off its feet, tumbling back over the desktop to lay\ncross-wise over the corpse of Buck Reeves. The second thing made a motion\ntoward us, blaring sound from its duck-bill, and I feared I\u2019d have a fist-sized\nhole in me like Jack Denham, but a second blast \u2013 the thing that took my\nhearing, in the right ear, at least \u2013 knocked it back into the iron bars of my\ncells. This hadn\u2019t been from Debby\u2019s shotgun, which I\u2019d known ahead was\none-barreled, it was from Billy West\u2019s pistol. He hadn\u2019t revived, don\u2019t get my\nmeaning crooked, it\u2019s that Debby nicked the gun from his body and tucked it\naway somewhere til needed. In others I\u2019d\u2019ve been concerned at the theft, but\nI\u2019ll not pass judgment on an action that, sure as shooting, saved my life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The\nThings had gone the way of Jack Denham, Billy West, Buck Reeves, the prophets\nand my sainted da, but I still treated their bodies with hesitation as I\napproached. It was about then that I noticed \u2013 or rather didn\u2019t \u2013 Buck\u2019s absent\nhead. The shots had been heard, and Debby and me were joined by Mac Burly,\nwho\u2019d been on his way over anyway, and a few others from the street. We all\ntook the bodies \u2013 Buck and the Crocodile things alike \u2013 over to George Berle\u2019s,\nand stuffed em in caskets quick as we could. I swore them and Berle and Debby\nto secrecy, and swore myself in for good measure, but like all secrets this one\ngot out and mutated and changed til an enemy armada had attacked our little\ntown, at least as one paper told it far off on the coast. I don\u2019t think no one\nbut Debby and me knows what happened exactly, \u2018cause she kept quiet and I did\ntil now. Well, us and Bucks Addison, who we figured ought to be looped in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The\nlast thing we did, last of all that day, was we smashed those stick-guns to\nbits. Took a hammer from Dave Bulber\u2019s shop and went after em like they were\nthe ones that killed Jack Denham and Billy West and Buck Reeves, like they were\nthe ones took my deputy away and my friend. Buck Reeves left behind family,\ntoo, I forgot to mention, and I suppose I should note also that Billy\u2019s mother\nended up with Bucks Addison, so some little good came from it all. I don\u2019t\nrightly know whether Earl ever fired those Peacekeepers, but I figure not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019d\nlike to say beyond this I never had occasion to shoot the Winchester, never had\ncause to pull out my Cattleman, and that beyond this nobody got killed on my\nwatch, and nobody died for a very long time, but that ain\u2019t true and you\u2019d know\nit. People still cut round holes in men, they were just smaller and jagged and\ncame from Colts, and Remingtons, not stick-guns. Boots and pistols were stolen,\ntoo, and vests. But in my time as sheriff \u2013 and it racked up to a couple years,\nall told \u2013 nothing else alike that one long day ever came to pass. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We\nburied Billy West in his own back yard, where his mama wanted him left. His\nheadstone said he was too young, and pretty much everyone agreed. Jack Denham\nwe put in the community churchyard, between two other ranchhands who\u2019d passed\nin recent years, and we put a boulder there with some paint, to defray\nexpenses. Buck Reeves we burned, like savages. His wife said it wernt Christian\nto put a man in the ground without a head. The things we put in caskets, and\nthe caskets we put on Al Mears\u2019s wagon one time he headed down to Corpus\nChristi, God knows why, and he told us he threw em in the sea. I trust he did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Greg Burton is a writer and law student hailing from the Garden State. His work often focuses on the same themes that fascinate him academically, those of psychology, politics, and language. He is preceded by a series of lofty and meaningless titles including “Threat Analyst” and “Bouncy-House Operator.”<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":391,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-332","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/12\/rodion-kutsaev-UIUgYu9bENU-unsplash-scaled.jpg?fit=2560%2C1707&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/332","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=332"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/332\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":392,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/332\/revisions\/392"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/391"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=332"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=332"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=332"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}