Heart of Ice (Deadman Series Book 6) Page 9

  Matthew shrugged. “I don’t know much more than you do, Private, just what my son told me. I really didn’t believe him; I thought when he fell off his horse a couple of nights ago and dislocated his shoulder, he might have hit his head and hallucinated some sort of monsters.”

  His shoulders drooped and he continued. “Then I got to thinking maybe Indians were to blame. Your commanding officer came up with that notion. But now I have to admit that there are some sorts of creatures…something we have never seen before here in this valley.”

  Turning to face Private Trevance, he asked, “You saw them, right? The red eyes…”

  The young man looked down and shuffled the toe of one boot across the well-swept floorboards. “I’m not rightly sure what I saw, suh. Two big red lights up high… it happened real fast.”

  Matthew replied, “My son told me that two, giant red-eyed monsters with the worst sort of horrible howls attacked him on the road two nights ago. He said they killed his horse and then chased him down. His shoulder was dislocated during the scuffle and one of them scratched up his face.”

  Sighing, he added, “He was sure he was going to be killed but, at the last minute, the monsters saw the gold and silver belt buckle he was wearing and took off running.” Matthew ran his hands over his face and gazed at the other man. “That’s why I just happened to have a silver candlestick in my possession. I admit, I didn’t really believe what my boy told me but he is smart and not prone to telling tall tales. I guessed, better safe than sorry.”

  The private stood up straight, “I wondered about that, suh. But, I gotta say, that mess my men and I cleaned up last week was like nothing we have ever seen before and we have seen a lot. It seemed like there was too much force used… like giants tore our friends apart.”

  Matthew moved toward the front door but turned around before going through. “Listen, I can’t ask you to do anymore here. It’s not safe and you have men to see to back at the outpost. I’m heading down into the cut to see if my in-laws are hiding there but I think you should head back.”

  The private looked flabbergasted. “But, Suh! I don’t want to go back that way! Those…those things might still be there not to mention there is a pack of wolves in the vicinity.”

  Matthew gritted his teeth. Of course, what the young man said was true…there were deadly predators between here and the Army outpost. He could hand over his rifle and the silver candlestick but he needed both to keep his family safe.

  Still, he wished now that he had taken Chance seriously instead of being so flippant about what his son had said he’d seen. He, his family, and now a young soldier were at risk because of his disbelief.

  Matthew said, “Okay, let’s head down to the new mine shaft. If what I believe is true, there should be at least four good men with weapons hiding close by.”

  “Yes, suh!” Trevance agreed and followed Matthew outside onto the porch. Both men pulled rifles from their saddlebags and made sure their pistols were cocked and loaded. They stared at their surroundings, acknowledging the new herd of storm clouds gathering in the sky; the wind was brisk and they could taste snow on the breeze.

  They saw no red lights in the area and heard no wolves so they moved around the back of the house and down a long, convoluted path to a rather impressive river muscling its way through granite boulders and cliffs. The closer they got to the river, the less they could hear. The tumultuous waters echoed off the high cliffs and filled their ears with thunder.

  Not liking the fact that their ears could not alert them to danger, Matthew frowned. “Keep close to me, Private, okay?”

  Trevance nodded in reply. His eyes were wide open with tension and Matthew realized the younger man also understood their vulnerability. They took off down a path that, just last spring, was narrow and winding but now was twice as wide as it had been and rutted with wagon tracks and hoof marks.

  Moving at a quick clip, Matthew soon saw a wooden bridge stretching over the river—another improvement since Hannah had discovered the rich ore on the opposite side of the water. He and his partner went swiftly down a small incline and ran across the bridge.

  Rocks had been removed from a large cleft in the cliff wall to make way for the oxen and the ore carts and Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. Last year, his son had almost gotten stuck in the rocks when he went to spy on his new wife who, at that time, was masquerading as a boy.

  They stepped through the cleft and stared about in horror. The stony ledge was wet with blood and gore; a man was crumpled against the rocks, his whole chest cavity torn out and exposed to the elements. He had apparently been holding a rifle in his right hand but now that hand—still attached to the arm—lay twenty feet or so away in a puddle of blood. The rifle he had brandished was bent at an impossible angle and dangled from a willow branch by the side of the pathway.

  “Oh man,” Trevance muttered and Matthew nodded in agreement. Peering over the ledge, he saw a large shallow pond, the mouth of a cave, and a modest mining operation on the beach. The shadows were long as dusk was falling and he tried to see if his in-laws were anywhere about.

  “There!” the private whispered; Matthew followed his gaze and saw another body. He was too far away to see who it was but its stillness suggested nothing short of sudden and brutal death. Then he heard a shout.

  Looking down, Matthew saw an ore-filled wagon by the cave but all four oxen were dead in their traces. He gulped in dread. Then he spied Hannah’s father Jacob standing on the beach; he was waving his left arm and holding a pistol in his right hand. He was also glancing in all directions as if any minute he would come under attack.

  “Let’s go,” Matthew said and took off at a trot down the long path leading to the mining camp, Trevance close on his heels. Once on the beach, he ducked under a small waterfall and made his way to the cave.

  “Am I ever glad to see you, Matthew!” Jacob exclaimed.

  Matthew and the private stared around in alarm. For the moment, they seemed to be alone… and safe.

  “Who are the dead men?” he asked as he and Trevance followed the man into the cave.

  Jacob glanced over his shoulder. “My new hires, bless ’em. They thought to help but those creatures killed them as quick as a wink. Come quickly before they return.”

  Matthew saw that Jacob’s mining venture was progressing nicely. The once damp but pristine cave was twice as big as it once was and there were many bore holes and piles of ore by the stone walls. Lanterns glowed here and there and veins of silver and gold caught the light like stars flickering in the night sky.

  Looking ahead he saw Jacob’s wife Marta, his two youngest children—Peter and Frannie—and a thin, nervous-looking fellow by a small fire at the back of the cave. They were all holding a weapon and appeared scared out of their minds. When Marta saw who had come, she dropped her poker and ran up to Matthew, weeping; the next moment, both children hugged his upper legs and waist, shaking with fear.

  “Oh Matthew,” she cried, “we are visited by demons of the deep! I think because we dig into their domain!”

  He patted the woman’s back and murmured, “Yes, Marta, I know. But I don’t think they’re here because of your mining operation. In fact, I think you have survived this long because of this mine…they are afraid of silver.”

  “Afraid of silver, you say?” Jacob frowned. “What are those things, Matthew? Are those the same creatures that attacked our young Chance?”

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  Jacob shook his head with disgust. “And I thought he was crazy. Oh, I am so sorry now.”

  As usual when Jacob was upset, his heavy German accent colored his words. Marta went to him, murmuring, “You did not know, husband… how could you have known?”

  “Oh…let me introduce Private Trevance,” Matthew said. “He came along to help me fetch you back home.”

  Jacob nodded his welcome and said, “And this is Randall Smalley, one of my hired hands.”

  The small man
stepped forward with a pained smile. “Pleased to meet ya. Sorry it ain’t under better circumstances.”

  Looking around again, Matthew said, “I think we should get out of here before nightfall. If we hurry, we could make it back to town.”

  Suddenly, a horrific howl filled the air making the humans inside the cave wince and cover their ears. Moving over to one of the lanterns, Matthew gazed down at his pocket-watch. Despite the fact that it was only 3:45 in the afternoon and they should have had at least an hour of daylight before the sun set, the monsters had somehow shaken the wolves that were now hovering on the sandy beach just outside the cave’s entrance.

  Part Three

  Wendigo

  Even into the last century, Native Americans actively believed in, and searched for, the Wendigo. One of the most famous Wendigo hunters was a Cree Indian named Jack Fiddler. He claimed to kill at least 14 of the creatures in his lifetime, although the last murder resulted in his imprisonment at the age of 87. In October 1907, Fiddler and his son Joseph were tried for the murder of a Cree Indian woman. They both pleaded guilty to the crime but defended themselves by stating that the woman had been possessed by the spirit of a Wendigo and was on the verge of transforming into one entirely. According to their defense, she had to be killed before she murdered other members of the tribe.

  There are still many stories told of Wendigo’s that have been seen in northern Ontario - near the Cave of the Wendigo - and around the town of Kenora where a creature has been spotted by traders, trackers and trappers for decades. There are also many who still believe that the Wendigo roams the woods and the prairies of northern Minnesota and Canada. Whether it seeks human flesh or acts as a portent of coming doom is anyone’s guess but, before you start to doubt that it exists, remember the stories and legends of this fearsome creature have been around since before the white man walked on these shores. The legends had to have started somehow, didn’t they?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Posse

  “Where are you going with that?” Samuel demanded as Chance walked through the dining room with a large teapot and an armful of his mother’s sterling silver flatware.

  Chance stopped and looked over his shoulder at his brother. “You know exactly where I am going, Sam,” he spoke softly, not intimidated in the least but distressed that Sam thought he was out of his mind.

  “But… that was Ma’s! It’s not fair that one of her most prized possessions gets melted down because you have a bug up your butt!” Sam snapped.

  Annie, who had heard her stepson’s raised voices, walked into the room. “Chance, hold on a minute…okay?” she asked.

  “Why?” he barked.

  “I agree with what you’re doing. Just let me find the maker’s mark, please? This way we can have the set replaced.”

  His stepmother’s soft words penetrated Chance’s panic and fury. Putting the box of flatware on the long plank table and setting the heavy tea set next to it, he stepped back and stared at his older half-brother. “Sam, I thought you would be as anxious as me to get Pa back.”

  Sam’s face flushed red with anger. “Goddammit! You know I want him back! Don’t you dare say otherwise!”

  “Boys!” Annie’s voice was sharp. “I have had about enough out of you two! It’s bad enough that Matthew and Hannah’s family are missing but fighting over ammunition is not helping! We will melt this silver-plate down for bullets whether you approve or not.” She was staring at Samuel, the older of the two young men. “I will place an order for new silverware this afternoon after you leave for Idaho, all right?”

  Their stepmother had never raised her voice before and both young men looked shocked and slightly ashamed of themselves for their outburst. Her eyes were wide with fear and unshed tears for her new husband and their bickering was not helping her nerves at all.

  Sam bowed his head and murmured, “Yes, Ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.”

  Chance mumbled an apology as well and walked back the way he had come from Matthew’s office. Picking up a newspaper and folding it in half, he marched into the dining room. Handing the paper to his brother, he said, “Read this article, Sam. It might not change your mind but, at least, maybe you’ll stop thinking I’m crazy.”

  He went over to where Annie was copying the name of the silver pattern from the bottom of the teapot onto a piece of paper and asked if he could now take the silver out to the barn where his posse was waiting.

  She nodded and left the room. For a moment, Chance looked at his brother who was reading a lengthy article about an old Indian man named Jack Fiddler and his son Joseph who had been recently tried and convicted of killing a woman they thought to be a Wendigo along with fourteen other afflicted souls.

  He didn’t know whether his stubborn, pragmatic brother could be swayed but it was worth a try. He didn’t like melting his mother’s silver down any more than Sam did but if, as he suspected, silver bullets could stop the monsters he had seen with his own two eyes, then that was what he would do.

  Chance stepped off the front porch and hung a left toward the larger of the two big barns. He could see a steady stream of smoke rising from the smith and smell the sour odor of melting metal. He shook his head and tried to settle his own nerves.

  Hannah had come home, alone, two days ago. She was nervous and agitated that her father-in-law had gone into Idaho by himself and, as predicted, Chance was frustrated with his headstrong pa’s decision to go into the monster’s territory without any back-up. Still, he was proud that Matthew had taken the initiative in trying to keep his wife’s family safe.

  But one night had passed… and then two without seeing hide nor hair of their family members. Knowing what he’d seen with his own eyes, Chance feared the worst and finally, early this morning, he had saddled his horse and ridden into town to gather up the best men he knew to mount a rescue mission.

  And they had all come: Granville’s Sheriff Roy Smithers; the deputy sheriff, Dick McNulty; the huge but simple-minded part-time deputy, Abner Smalley; and two other men not at all connected with law enforcement but old family friends—Dave Spence and the town’s vet, Harold Wagoner.

  They had brought with them all the hollow-point ammunition they owned plus an additional twelve boxes of new ordinance. There were a few raised eyebrows, Chance knew, but not one of the men questioned his request to rework their ammo with silver. Now the men were standing and sitting next to a long metal bench filling the hollow-tipped bullets with silver. The good thing about silver—in this case—was its softness and pliability; the bad thing was its weight compared to lead.

  So far, Dicky McNulty had hit his practice targets eight out of ten times but only at close distances. The silver-tipped bullets worked but did not travel as fast or as far as regular lead bullets did. This put long-distance shots well out of reach and Chance worried about close contact with the monsters. He suspected that the creature’s eyes had a mesmerizing effect on their victims and knew that their strength was impossibly overwhelming.

  He sat down and went to work. After a couple of minutes passed, Samuel sat down next to him on the bench.

  “Sorry, Chance. I didn’t mean to lose my temper,” he murmured. He shrugged. “You know me…new ideas come hard.”

  Chance grinned. “Can’t say as I blame you this time around. I know what I saw but, now that a few days have passed, I can hardly believe it either.” He took a thick rag and placed his pot of warm silver on the bench between them. “Here… be careful though. Once this stuff gets on your skin, half your hide will come off when you try to remove it.”

  Sam nodded. “So, we leaving this afternoon?”

  Chance looked surprised. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  Sam shrugged. “Of course I am. You don’t get to hog all the glory!”

  Chance frowned. “Sam, I appreciate it. I really do. But I hope you don’t think this is some kind of joke. This is going to be deadly dangerous.”

  Sam nodded. “I know. I might not believe th
ere are monsters involved in Pa’s disappearance, despite that crazy newspaper article you showed me, but I understand that Pa and Hannah’s people are in danger. I’m coming along with you to fetch them back home.”

  Chance cuffed his brother affectionately and then looked around at his oldest and dearest friends. “I’d like to get going as soon as possible. Think we can make the noon train?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Starving and Scared

  It had been a day and a half since Matthew arrived at the cave on his rescue mission and things were starting to look grim. Although Marta had brought some food stores along when she fled the house, their coffers were running low. The real problem, though, was the lack of water.

  The pond outside was filled with glacial water and sweet to drink but they couldn’t get to it. Yesterday—once they realized they were trapped inside—they had started to portion what water they had but, as of this morning, it was almost gone. They had containers positioned along the stone walls to catch tiny rivulets of damp that seeped like sweat throughout the cave but it was not nearly enough to stave off thirst.

  The best Marta could do was press a damp rag to her children’s lips to keep them hydrated. Although embarrassed, Mr. Stewart had stepped forward this morning with a flask of whiskey in his hand.

  “I try not to tipple too much, Mr. Lindsay,” he said with downcast eyes. “But I find a dose of whiskey helpful for falling asleep at night. I promise you, I ain’t been drinking on the job.”

  Jacob had frowned but accepted the flask with courtesy. “Well, you know I asked for this to be a dry operation but I gotta admit you seem to be a fine and willing worker. Now, with this, the childer can stay wet while we figure a way outta here.”

  Jacob glanced up at Matthew who was staring out at the blue water about sixty feet away from the cave’s entrance. It’s maddening, the big man thought as he licked dry lips, to see water right in front of you but not be able to slake your thirst.