Syth and Axe (Part 5) : Adventures with Pecos Bill

Read part 1 here: https://parallaxrealms.blogspot.com/2024/04/bunyan-went-down-to-jersey-part-1.html

 Part 5: Darkness and Blood

1925 - Somewhere in the Mojave Desert

Paul stared out across the dunes. Scrub brush as far as the eye could see. Sand, gravel, dirt, and hard rock the locals commonly called “desert pavement,” were the only things to break up the monotony of brown, brown, and more brown.

He’d spent precious little time in the desert - up until now, he’d though it just mountains and mountains of sand. But no, it was worse. It was hard-packed dirt, the prickliest plants imaginable, and just miles of … brown.

And not the good brown - not the healthy brown of trees and such. No, this was the dry, desiccated, scrubby brown of dead plants. 

The only redeeming quality was these plants that looked prickly, but weren’t - he’d heard them referred to as “Joshua Trees.” But, they weren’t like any trees he’d ever seen. They were cactus-like, but with these leaf-like spines that formed a sort of coating around their whole surface, protecting them from who-knows-what. And they only seemed to grow in specific regions.

Paul placed his foot up against one, adjusting the laces before stepping back on the sandy, gravelly, brown soil.

“I hate this place…” he muttered.

“Been a long time, ol’ Paul.”

He turned.

A blonde-haired man, wiry, wearing a loose cowboy hat, tan vest, and matching slacks stepped out from the shadows - what little shadows could be found in this barren wilderness.

Paul laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Well, someone’s gotta stay young, you old goat!”

Paul brushed at a spot where Kit had mentioned there being a white hair last time he’d seen her. “Yeah, guess I’m starting to show my age. How are you?”

He wrapped the wiry man in a broad hug.

“It’s been too long.”

“Ah, ya missed me?”

Paul chuckled. “Let me guess, ‘but my aim’s gettin’ better’?”

“Never miss, so no way to get better!”

“What’re you doing out here? I almost didn’t believe it when I heard you moved out of Texas.”

“It was gettin’ too crowded. So, figured I’d move out here to the Mojave. Barstow’s still a good bit up the road, nothing between here and Nevada. Heck, nothing in Nevada to speak of either!”

“And the wife’s gettin’ along?”

“Heh… haven’t seen her since that whole bustle incident.”

“Wait, that story was real? Did she really bounce to the moon?”

“No,” replied the man with a laugh. “Just to Russia.”

Paul paused for a moment. He was married to a mythological creature from another dimension, so a woman being kicked into orbit, while still far-fetched, seemed at least mildly plausible.

“And Widowmaker?”

“Still as upset as ever!”

“Well, glad some things never change.”

“So, legendary Paul Bunyan,” said the man with a smirk, “what brings you to my humble desert?”

“Well, Bill,” Paul responded. “I need some help tracking a god.”

Bill guffawed out loud. “You sure you’re not from Texas?” He laughed again, “track down a god. That’s a new one, even from you. I figured with your size and strength, you’d have no trouble findin’ anything.”

“And you carved out the Rio Grande. Don’t believe all the stories.”

“My wife was kicked clear to Russia,” Bill replied, “some of the stories are true. Besides, legend has it one of us can grow to unusual size… and I know some of those stories are true. Bear Lake ring any bells?”

“Hahaaa! Yes. And do you still have the cannon?”

Paul shook his head. “Regrettably, no.”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s a tail worth hearing. Come back to my place. Then you can tell me all about this god you’re hunting. Hah! To think, you’re chasing down a god. What next?”

The cabin was barely a cabin at all - a few cinderblock walls, a strange assemblage of trash for a roof, and a hitching post outside, dug down into the desert sand and backfilled with stone to form a sort of upright fence where a horse could be tied, supposing the horse was a statue and chose to never move. If that happened, the fence would come up, verticals and horizontals alike.

“I like the style,” Paul joked, pushing open the rickety piece of corrugated siding that formed the door.

Bill tossed his weatherbeaten hat onto a crooked nail that had been hammered into a piece of a railroad tie that had been hefted vertical and strapped into place to make a sort-of wall.

He plopped himself down in a rickety chair and kicked his feet up on the stump that made his table. 

“You know,” Paul joked, “vintage isn’t an excuse.”

“Ah, your wit’s still duller than your axe.” 

“That’s kind of you,” Paul joked. “I’ll have you know my axe is the sharpest thing in this shack.”

“Pull up a crate, if it’ll hold your ego,” replied Bill.

“I can see why you’re not sitting on it, it’d probably collapse immediately.”

A moment of silence hung between the two men.

“I like you, Paul. Wish ya didn’t have to love the woods so much. We coulda been roommates!”

“I’m married now, Bill. I don’t think she’d approve.”

“So am I. Best relationship I’ve ever been in.” Bill guffawed again. “She never writes, never calls. Last message I got from her was a telegram, something about meeting a woman in a pot with a chicken leg?”

Paul shrugged. “Russia’s a weird place.”

“You’re tellin’ me! Ever been?”

Paul thought for a moment. Had any of the battles in the war taken him there? He honestly couldn’t remember. He doubted it. “Not that I remember. Spent a good bit of time in Japan and a little in other parts of Europe.”

“Europe and Japan! Wow, didn’t think many foreigners got to go there.”

“They made an exception.”

“I bet,” Bill replied. He kicked his feet off the table and leaned forward. “Are there women as beautiful as the rumors?”

Paul shrugged. “Dunno, didn’t really get to see many.”

“You’re so boring, Paul. Married life doesn’t suit you.”

“At least my wife sticks around. Yours bounced off to another country!”

“Well, that was partly Widowmaker’s fault.”

“Coulda just rounded up a cyclone and followed.”

“Tried, but wasn’t any good at that stuff back then.”

“Oh, so you’ve gotten better?”

Bill smiled. “Wanna see?” He snapped his fingers. A small cloud slowly swirled to life in front of him. “Watch.” The cloud spun like a little top across the surface of his table, slid sideways off the side, then rolled around underneath before dissipating and reappearing on Bill’s palm. 

“Took me decades to get the pressure right on that. Scientists don’t even know how they form, and I can make them.”

“Impressive,” Paul replied with genuine awe. “Thought you could just manipulate what naturally formed, but you can make them now.”

Bill nodded. “Yep. Pre-tty impressive.”

“How’s Widowmaker takin’ to all these changes?”

“He’s had a few decades to get used to it. He’s still as grumpy as ever. Good hoof in a pinch, though.”

Bill drew a cigarette from his pocket, snapped his fingers to produce a spark, and lit it up. He dragged deeply on it, then released a long puff of smoke. He pushed his hand up, squeezing the cloud into a small ball, which he shoved up through a hole in the roofing.

Paul nodded in appreciation. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Yep. You could say I’m quite the weather witch.”

“Well, if I were trying to insult you, yes.”

Bill pulled on the last bit of his cigarette, then flicked it off to the corner, where it floated a short while and landed in a metal pail of butts. “Welp, it’s been great catchin’ up. But I’m sure you didn’t make up the ‘hunting a god’ story just to see my beautiful house. What is this thing you’re hunting?”

Paul smiled. “Well, a little backstory, just in case.”

After what seemed like hours, Paul ended the story, leaving out the final bit about traveling between dimensions. Maybe Bill wasn’t quite ready for that bit yet.

“So, you trust this red-eyed wendigo?”

Paul nodded.

“Why, cuz ya had a heart-to-heart in her mind realm?”

Paul shrugged. “Basically.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” Bill replied, his face stoic. Then he broke into a smile, “But I barely knew my wife for a few days when I proposed, so women can make ya stupid! Okay, so this old woman. Anything weird about her?”

“You mean, besides walking through wendigo territory, being sealed in a rock, chanting in some other language? No, not at all.”

“I meant was there anything unique about her features, her gait, her way of speaking.”

“I don’t remember exactly what she chanted.” Paul thought for a moment. “Apparently she was after her bones.” 

Bill shook his head. “Pretty common… anything else.”

“Old woman?”

“Probably a shape-shifter, trying to make you let your guard down.”

“Well, that failed. She actually made me more nervous.”

“There was probably some sort of aura that you canceled out somehow.”

“Aura?”

Bill nodded, “Yah. Most of these creatures give off a certain power that affects people. It makes them invisible or at least allows them to slip by more easily. You must have some sort of way to nullify it.”

Paul laughed. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I’ve adventured with you. You may not have seen it back then, but everything weird we ever ran into - you were the first to notice. Sometimes I would pretend to notice first just so you didn’t think it was weird. I guessed right every now and then. You have a gift, brother.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Paul replied. “As for what she looked like. She was an arthritic old woman. She shuffled around, keeping one arm tucked up at all times. She never moved fast when I watched her, but seemed to vanish the moment she was out of sight.”

“Spearfinger?”

Paul nodded. “I think that’s what she was called. Never heard of her.”

Bill shook his head. “Don’t know that one. Got a friend out in Calico’t might know some’n.”

“Calico?”

“Oh, strugglin’ little shack-colony of a mining town few miles up the road. Dunno if they’re even mining anymore, I know most everythin’ dried up. Lucy might still be up there. Not sure.”

“When’s the last time you left this place?”

“And wandered the real world… ooh, dunno. Long time.”

“Real world? As opposed to…?” Paul offered.

Bill shrugged. “Ye might not believe it, but there’s these other planes of existence right ‘longside ours. Ever heard of em?”

Paul chuckled. “Yah. A few times.”

“Found one with all the privacy I could ever want.”

“Sounds like a dream. What realm is that?”

“Not sure it has a name. Kinda looks like this, just with no one in it.”

“How could you tell?” Paul asked, pointing out the shoddy approximation of a window at the swaths of desert.”

“I tested it in other places, Calico, for instance. Though Calico’s mostly dead, too… so might be a bad example.”

“What was it like? Just abandoned?” Paul joked.

“Not exactly,” replied Bill. “There are definitely living things… but no buildings - like humans didn’t exist in that world or something. Just as I like it.”

Paul thought back to his experience in the fairy realm. “So, like all the buildings were ripped out or like there weren’t any humans ever?”

“Sometimes there are roads, but I don’t think human ones.” Bill responded. “Wait, you’ve actually been there, too?”

Paul nodded. “I think so. Except in mine, I found old trails and this old pedestal.”

“So did I!” Bill replied. “Didn’t mess with it, though.” he said, a little too hurriedly.

“You shot it, didn’t you?”

“Maybe once… tossed a rock or two. But it was harmless.”

Paul nodded. “Well, mine broke.”

“Hit it with your axe?”

“I see neither of us have changed.”

“Apparently.” Billed replied with a laugh. 

“So, how did you get in?”

“Ring of stones out in the desert.”

“Just a random ring of stones?”

“Well, someone did show me those stones in particular.”

“Who?”

“Don’t rightly know ‘is name, if it was a ‘he.’”

“You don’t know who showed you the circle?”

“Met a weird figure in the desert, thought ‘twas hallucinatin’ at first. Then after ‘e showed me the circle, stepped in and ‘boom’!”

“Boom?”

“Nothin’ changed.” chuckled Bill. “When I went to head back ‘ere, I noticed mah house was gone. Thought it had blown away in a sandstorm - done that a time or two. Those mountains over yonder practically vanish when it all starts comin’ down. Thought that’s what was goin’ on.”

“So how’d you discover you were in another world?”

Bill shrugged. “Just a gut. Wandered ‘round to my old haunts, cairns, that type of thing… nothin’. Now, I know some o’ them coulda been found by desert dwellers, but no way they found ‘em all. So I started followin’ my gut. Guess what I found?”

“A pillar?”

“Yer good. Yeah, bout a day of wanderin’ around, I found myself a pillar. An some weird creatures hangin’ round it.”

“Strange how?”

“What’ve you seen?” Bill asked, “You’ve been in - what’d yours look like?”

“Almost skeleton men. Strange beings with greyish skin stretched across thin muscles.”

Bill nodded, chewing on a particularly long piece of his blonde mustache. “Yep, woulda shot that type of thing in the face… nah, mine were a bit different.”

“Human?”

“Nah, more like a sorta dog-creature. Wiry little things, no fur, glowing eyes.”

“Just creepy dogs?”

“Pretty much. They was big, and spiny. Boy, were they ever spiny!”

“So, large dog-hedgehogs?”

“Well, the spines was just down the back. Weird things to be sure.”

“Guess I’d take mine any day of the week, then.” Paul replied. “And you got out?”

“Oh, yah,” replied Bill. “Things barely looked at me. Just kept a watch on that pillar-thing. I decided not to do too much more an wandered round some more. Eventually, found my way to the same circle of rocks by accident and got out.”

“And kept going back in?”

“Well, I was curious. Saves on food, too.”

“You don’t need food in there?”

“Apparently not,” Bill replied. “Been in there for weeks at a time, explorin’ all over the place. Never got hungry once.”

“Only been in a few hours, I think,” Paul replied, “but knew a guy who lived in there for almost two hundred years. Completely lost his memory. Still don’t know who he really is, and he’s been out for quite a while.”

Bill chuckled. “Good thing my ol’ gray matter’s a steel trap. Nothin’ gets in, nothing gets out!”

Evening sun began to filter through the desert.

“Best get goin’,” Bill replied. “Hey, got an idea… wanna use the other world to get to Calico?”

“You mean use the circle?”

“Why not? You know about it, I know about it. Saves time an’ energy.”

“I guess,” Paul replied with a shrug. “How far’s Calico?”

“Oh, a few hour walk… maybe about twenty mile or so.”

“And you’d rather go through the fairy realm? Is there an exit circle up there?”

“Might be one down in the mines. I know there’s one over in Barstow, used to be one… maybe got tore down with all the new construction.”

Paul shrugged. “Not worried about those hedgehog-dog things?”

“Not really. They keep mostly to themselves.”

“Mostly? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“They’re only active during the daytime. If I ever need to move through that place, I do it at night when they’re sleepin’, or restin’... whatever it is they do in there.”

“They don’t need food… that’s strange.”

Bill shrugged. “Dunno. Nothin’ I can’t handle, but if we’re tryin’ t’ move quick-like, might not want to get slowed down too much. Never brought anyone else in, neither, so dunno how they’ll respond to you.”

“Heh,” Paul chuckled. “Only one way to find out.”

And with that, the pair trekked off across the sand and stone until they came to a broad plain. Off in the distance, several large mountains loomed around them. One seemed mostly rocky all the way to the top, where a large, sandy swath stretched down. Another, close to them, was smaller, standing only a short walk to its peak.

“Here.”

The circle of stones sat in the base of a low valley.

Just a few paces down, and they’d arrived at the lip.

Bill pointed off in the distance. “There’s my shack, there’s the river of sand that becomes an actual river every now and then, and there’s the rough approximation of Calico.” He pointed off toward the northwest.

“Okay.”

“Just in case this doesn’t go according to plan.”

Paul nodded.

And they stepped through the circle, and nothing changed.

“That it?” Paul asked.

“First time?” Bill replied, with a laugh.

“Been a while.”

Bill stepped down, slid a few rocks out of the way. “This way.”

Paul stepped through, his broad shoulders meeting the slight resistance and forcing him to turn his bulk sideways. He slid through the opening. Bill replaced the stones.

“Oddly responsible of you…” Paul joked.

“Can’t have those things slipping through behind me.”

“That’s happened?”

Bill nodded. “Once. I don’t like to think about it. I’m assuming the thing died out here in the heat.”

“Hope so.”

The trek across the desert was surprisingly cold. It had been ages since Paul had been around this area, and even then, he couldn’t begin to remember how many years - lifetimes - it had been. But the desert was cold, and somehow peaceful.

Something growled nearby.

Paul looked over. A dog-like creature, matching almost the letter Bill’s description, eyed them from a nearby mound of dirt and stone. Its eyes narrowed, glowing faintly in the darkness. Grey, hairless lips drew back, revealing sharp, yellowed, glistening fangs.

Paul kept pressing on, his grip firm on the handle of his axe. His pouch hung heavy at his side. A few sticks of dynamite and a small pistol now graced his essential supplies. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use them.

Another appeared on a nearby hill, then another on a distant ridge. It was half a mile away, probably, but in the emptiness of the desert, there was nothing to conceal it.

“Keep going this way,” Bill whispered, his usual bravado pinched.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” Paul whispered, only half-jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood as they trekked their way up a dirt hill toward the other plain.

“I’ve never seen this many in one place…” Bill replied. “... or this aggressive.”

“Well, I feel special,” Paul whispered back. He slung his axe over his shoulder and drew out the pistol. “What happens when we fire a gun in here?”

“Same thing as the real world… things come running toward us or run away from us.”

“And what will those things do?”

“Probably attack… if I were a bettin’ man.”

“You are a betting man.”

“Then you catch my drift.”

Growls all around them now.

Every instinct in Paul demanded that he run. Demanded that he put as much distance as possible between the creatures and himself. 

Run!

Run, now!

What are you waiting for?

He felt his muscles tense, felt the dirt and stone shift slightly beneath a boot primed to rush off into the night.

Bill placed a hand on his arm. “I know whatcher thinkin’. We can’t.” He motioned around them.

Paul’s better judgment - his years in the forests of this land - kicked in. 

To run now was to admit they were prey. They had miles to trek through this land, and there was no going back. They had no choice - they had to look larger, showing dominance. That would be the only language these creatures would understand.

“Keep going,” whispered Bill. “The air is completely different from last time I was here. Something’s… changed.”

The two tromped off through the darkness, hearing the crunch of dead grass, the crumble of rocks beneath their boots. Scattered footsteps sounded all around them. 

“Good thing I sealed that barrier,” Bill muttered. There was a strain in his voice now. His normal cocksure attitude was a little more subdued.

“Yeah,” Paul replied. He thought back to when he had split the mushroom circle in the Pine Barrens… had he opened the way for things to get out? He knew some had slipped out when the pedestal cracked, but had he opened the door as well?

A cold shiver ran through his body - and it had nothing to do with the night air.

Click.

It was the sound of a hammer being drawn back.

He looked down.

A silver revolver was already in Bill’s hand. Ivory handles shown in the dark, the silver of the barrel glinting in the moonlight.

“What are you doing?”

A gust played at Paul’s hair.

“I’m gettin’ ready. Can’ blame a guy…”

“Draw the pack, remember?”

“I know… but if they strike, we’re gonna have to hit back twice as hard. Those legends about you true? You help loggers cut down whole trees with one swing, stomp stumps into the ground with one step?”

“That was one time!” Paul groaned. “And it was one small clearing and about three stumps. I was curious about how strong I could get.”

“Well, I think we’re gonna need that, soon.”

Eyes appeared over the next rise, over a nearby mount, and hovering along behind them, lost off in the darkness - only visible by the tell-tale glow of those fiery eyes. Ever watching. Keeping their distance.

A low growl off in a distant rise.

“This portal didn’t happen to be in a nest or something,” Paul whispered, that shiver running through him again. His hair bristled as a low yipping growl answered from deeper in the desert.

“Never thought much about it. Never seen them in force.”

Several appeared in front.

“This way.”

They turned up a side path, moved around some dead brush, and continued on, attempting to keep heading roughly in the direction of Calico - hoping there would be an exit there. More appeared, and they found themselves pushed off toward a narrow clump of dead trees, growth from an old flood that had bloomed and died, leaving the dried-out husk of what had once had life to wither away. How this world and earth were connected, and whether there would be a dried-out husk of a plant here in the real world, Paul could only guess.

“There is an actual river near here,” Bill muttered.

“I thought that was a joke.”

“Runs all the way from here, up through Afton Canyon off to the east, and off toward Barstow in the west. Travelers used to use the road to stay near it as they worked through the desert. You’re not going to like one of the nicknames.”

Paul watched the creatures closing in on them.

“River of Lost Souls.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“I’ve never taken it literally, but I’m starting to reconsider…”

“You know,” said Paul after about an hour of traipsing through the land, “I’m beginning to feel like a sheep. I think we’re being herded.”

Bill’s finger began itching toward the trigger. “Never was one for being herded anywhere.”

“Yeah, but better led than dead, at this moment.”

The finger twitched again. “Not sure I agree with the sentiment.”

“We haven’t lost our freedom yet,” Paul explained, eyeing the creatures all around them. There was a particularly dense pocket just up a ways. The two of them moved off toward the right, moving almost perpendicular to their original path. “Wait a moment before bringing the whole pack down.”

Several closed in around them, stalking in a sort of weird crouch-like gait. Footpaws, if that’s what they had, padded along the ground, claws occasionally clattering against the stone floor of the desert pavement. Going was easier now - they had arrived at some sort of trail. It wasn’t the road Paul had come in on, that was more… civilized. This was a movement trail left behind from large numbers pushing through the same trough. It was this realms version of a game trail.

Bill turned to Paul. “We’re going in the opposite direction.”

“How can you tell in here?”

“Got this sense of it. And these mountains are pretty close to where they are in the real world.” He jerked over his shoulder with his thumb. “In our world, Calico’d be that way.”

“Guess it’s good we don’t get tired in this place,” Paul whispered after another jaunt, “this long of a hike with those task masters could be fatal.”

Bill nodded. His gaze seemed stern.

“What’s going on?”

“I know where we’re heading.”

“Where?”

“Baxter Mine.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We’ll be going through the canyon to get there.”

The night air grew suddenly silent, as if all the creatures wanted was for them to figure out their path and stay on it. The shadowy forms loomed around them, watching silently as the pair pushed on.

“We could shoot our way through.”

“We may yet have to,” replied Paul, “but let’s see this out.”

Several more hours passed before the scrubby trees began to come into view again. The river was above ground here, flowing along without a thought to the fact that it was smack dab in the middle of a massive swath of desert. Strange trees, even stranger than the normal scrub in the real world, sprung up here and there.

Some seemed to undulate and twitch rhythmically, as if trying to seduce their prey. Others snaked and coiled after them as they moved along.

“Uh! Look but don’t touch, darlin’!” Bill cautioned, slapping at a tendril that strayed too close.

“Been told that a time or two, eh?”

The coil began to sneak toward them again.

“I said. Don’t. Touch!” Bill barked, stomping his boot down onto the vine. It tried to pull back, but he closed a fist around the stalk and wrenched it from the ground. “Anyone else want to mess with me right now?”

The vine fell limp in his hand. He cracked it like a whip.

“I thought so.”

He coiled the loop of tendril like it was a climbing rope and tucked it away in his back, leaving it to writhe in protest. “I’m keeping this. As a warning…” He stated, watching in satisfaction as the other plants seemed to recoil. The trees and strange plants seemed to give way to a tall canyon that rose up above them.

“Are they still following us?” Paul asked. He couldn’t see any of them anymore.

Bill nodded up ahead. “There’s one up there on the ledges. Must be the scout.”

Paul moved to take a step away from the trail. 

Growls rumbled at him from all sides, except the scout. “Guess that answers that question…”

And so they entered. Two walls rose up, closing them in on each side. Eyes, no doubt glowing from the approximate location of each creature, stared down at them. It all felt strangely familiar, as if he’d seen this before. Glowing, watchful eyes. No malevolence, no… anything, really. They were just there. They were guides pushing them ever along… ever along…

The canyon snaked its way this way and that, and soon they found themselves scrabbling up a tall chute of gravel, like the till of a mine. “Is there a mine here?”

“Over on the other side of the canyon. Di’n’t know of one in the canyon.” Bill shrugged. He’d been forced to holster his pistol during the climb, and now drew it out again. “Look.”

A slight trickle of light became visible over the ledge of the canyon.

“Oh, no… It’s about to get bad. Real bad.”

As if in response, something rumbled off down the canyon. They turned, expecting to see a pack slowly closing on them. 

But instead, they saw nothing. The shadows at the base of the cliff walls, which were already starting to shift with the overhead morning light, seemed to morph and flex in ways… out of keeping with the natural order.

Then it appeared. Two eyes showed first, about four times taller than any of the others.

The full form manifested. Stalking up the canyon was one of those creatures - the largest they’d seen yet. Its eyes were like saucers, its spines like small trees. He bared its teeth, yellowed and stained with age, and two long, dagger-like fangs glinted at them. Its gray skin tore and stretched. It had clearly earned its place at the top of the pack.

“So… guess we found out what lives here.” Paul gauged the walls. “I can’t get much bigger. These canyons are too tight.”

Bill nodded. “And my abilities don’t work here, at least not usually.”

The creature below began to nearly thrum as it watched them. A deep vibration started somewhere in its chest before rumbling out and around. Its teeth clattered, making a sound more akin to that of a helicopter flying far overhead. Then the feet began to stomp rhythmically, and the sound echoed and cascaded along. Glowing eyes appeared and rimmed the upper walls of the canyon.

So this was where they were being driven - as prey for this beast.

“They don’t eat in this realm.” Paul thought aloud.

Bill nodded, thinking the question was directed to him. “I’ve never had to and never seen any do it.”

“Then this is for fun.”

Two barks split the rumbling cacophony, and the canyon went dead silent.

“Boss man…” Bill whispered, with a touch of admiration.

Standing at full height, both Bill and Paul would have had to look up to see the muzzle of this creature. As they were, up in the raised cave’s mouth, they could look down and see the rippling muscles pulsing across the beast’s bare back. The long spines twitched and swayed like trees when wind blows through their grove.

The grey head, mottled and scared, gazed up at them, the glowing red eyes casting strange dancing shadows on the walls around it.

Light through a diamond.

Small specks here and there showed as it shifted its gaze from one to the other, sizing them up, choosing which would be its prey. The red glow washed over them, vanishing only momentarily as the creature blinked, then shifted its gaze again.

“Nothin’ ventured!” Bill shouted, and drew both pistols. With a dozen rapid blasts in short succession, he unloaded both revolvers into the creature’s face. One pierced cleanly through the ball of the beast’s eye, causing the red glow to wink out for a moment before nearly exploding back to light, no longer bound by the physical restrictions of the eyeball itself. Another bullet cut straight down through the snout, splitting a chunk of tooth in the process.

Red, red blood, nearly glowing, gushed from the broken tooth, as if he’d just hit a water tower’s pipeline. It flowed freely down the creature’s snout and mouth, dripping liberally from the broken jaw.

Then the creature reared its head and roared, splashing blood everywhere as it did.

It dropped into a crouch.

Paul drew his pistol and quickly fired at the other eye. He wasn’t nearly the crackshot Bill was, but after the fourth pull, he managed to pierce it, and in that moment, while the beast was shifting to recover, he and Bill fled.

“We’re prey now!”

“I’ve noticed!” Yelled Bill. He ejected a round of shells from the revolver and was already replacing them as they ran.

“You’ve gotten faster!”

“And you’re shot’s gotten worse!”

Something quivered behind them as the beast slammed its broken face into the cave mouth. Its face and snout made it partway in, but it was too large.

“Safe, for the moment,” Bill muttered with a laugh. “Just like good ol’ days, eh?”

Paul chuckled. “Yeah.” 

They’d fled back into a sort of holding cave. Maybe the den for the smaller creatures.

“Safe.”

Paul looked over. Bill was kneeling over a skeleton.

“Bones? In here?”

“Look,” Bill whispered. “All around.”

Dozens upon dozens of skeletons.

“What are they?”

“Goats, I think.”

“Goats? Some of those are huge.”

“Did you see the thing that chased us in here?” Bill joked. “And did you see all the blood that thing had in its mouth? Thing must be a vampire or something.”

Paul had accepted the existence of a lot of things in his life, but Dracula wasn’t on the list. He looked at the complete skeletons lying all around him. The only broken ones had been stepped on when others had been moved in. A few ribs here, a few broken leg bones here. Other than that, there was no sign they’d been fed on at all.

“Thing could just be killing them.”

“Maybe,” Bill replied. “Doubt it. Its a bit of work just to drag these things here as part of a collection.”

A rumble shook the cavern.

“Shall we go meet our dance partner again?”

Paul gazed down at the heaps of skeletons and shrugged. “Let’s.”

The den rumbled again as something struck the cave walls a second time. This time, the distinct crunch of gravel and stone shrieked at them.

When they rounded the corner, two glowing eyes met them. Flames billowed from the empty sockets, and though there were no physical objects, neither man had any doubt that the full malice and rage of that creature was trained… visibly… on them. It seemed the torn eyebrows were knitted in a very-human expression of anger. 

Claws rose up, grasping at the opening and wrenching chunks free.

“Has he grown larger?”

Paul nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Fine. What else?” Bill scoffed. “Seriously, what are the rules of this place?”

A bone-shaking roar split the air, and Paul felt the distinct splatter of warm blood flecking at him. He winced in disgust and drew out his pistol again, popping off a few shots before realizing how deafeningly loud it had been. His ears rang.

He heard Bill yelling something, probably cursing.

He holstered the pistol and drew out his axe.

Bill clenched a hand on the large man’s shoulder.

“Wait!” the lanky man shouted, still rubbing his ears. He quickly slid two strips of cotton into his own and passed them to Paul. “Try again!” He mouthed.

Paul chuckled and emptied the final few shots into the creature’s mouth.

It backed away. There was no blood this time, just a strange sicking “thock!” sound as bullet penetrated flesh. The broken fang still pulsed blood, but not nearly the gush it had been. The lower jaw and gums were slick and red, and when the creature roared another time, Paul felt rather than heard it.

Then he felt the sting of gunpowder exploding near his face as Bill drew his own and fired multiple rounds, the cartridges sending up flashes as they popped off. Shells ejected, reloaded, and chamber spun as Bill fired again and again.

The creature cowered back from the cave’s mouth.

“I’m out!” Paul shouted.

“So am I.”

The creature seemed to deflate slightly, then shivered, like a dog shaking off water droplets.

Several bullets fell free of its body. While a few had, most hadn’t even pierced the skin.

“What is this thing?” Paul shouted.

“Gonna be dead soon!”

Bill drew a large knife from his hip and was about to lung when Paul stopped him. “Bullets bounce off, what do you think that’ll do?”

“Silver edge.”

“Thing’s not a demon!”

“But fairy creatures can’t abide silver, right?” Bill exclaimed.

“That look like a fairy to you?” Paul shouted back.

The roar rumbled the canyon again as the sunlight cascaded brilliantly down from above, highlighting the scarred beast before them in all its brutal glory.

Two glowing, fiery red eyes, several scars from untold battles, broken teeth and fangs. One of the weird spines rising off its back had snagged and snapped, leaving it hanging awkwardly by a small bit of connective tissue.

“It’s grown tougher,” Paul noted, eyeing the previous wounds and where bullets now couldn’t pierce. It was as if the creature had exchanged size for density.

Paul made to remove the cotton wadding from his ears, but Bill stopped him. “It’ll protect us from the roars!” He mouthed. “Some of these beasts can paralyze with their roars.”

“Can you hit it with anything?”

Bill shook his head. “Bullets are useless. And so’s the knife at this point.”

“Wind, other nature stuff?”

Bill shook his head. “Doesn’t work here.”

Paul felt his muscles growing. “Mine does.”

He lunged down into the canyon, feeling his arms swell and muscles bulge as he faced down the beast. He cracked his neck and tendons and sinew stretched and shifted, as skin flexed over new surface area. His shirt tightened, threatening to rip free.

Paul broke out into a large smile. He was just a bit larger than the beast now.

The creature answered his size with its own.

An explosion sounded behind him.

Bill had fired a round into the creature’s side. It recoiled as the bullet sank into flesh, lodging somewhere in its hip. The monstrous beast staggered slightly, halting on one leg. Paul seized the opportunity, leaping forward and clenching his might fists around the spines and heaving with all his strength. The creature’s leg buckled, and it went down with a howl. Paul snatched the broken spine and ripped it free.

The beast yowled.

Another shot. This one grazed Paul’s shoulder before sinking into the creature’s opposite hip.

The leg spasmed.

Paul felt teeth clamp on his left forearm and winced. He’d just recovered from the series of injuries the wendigo had torn into his back. He didn’t need more raging across the rest of his body again.

As it was, he could only hold this thing down for so long before those same scars would rip open again. The more strain he put on them now, the more damage he’d be doing to himself.

Claws raked at his chest.

He drew back a powered fist and cracked it firmly against the beast’s face. The snout snapped awkwardly down with a crack, and the beast yowled, backing up on two injured hips.

Two more shots rang out, and the beast went down.

Paul clamped his right fist over his wounded forearm, the spine still clenched in the left. He brandished it like a sword. It was light, probably hollow, and fit his size better than his own axe would at this moment.

The beast lay still for a moment, its lids closing down over those blood-flame eyes.

Bill slid down the till, his pistols drawn. “Down to my last round.”

“You said you were out!”

“I found more,” replied Bill with a laugh. “Are you complaining?”

“No, just scared me,” Paul replied. “Thing dead?”

“If we’re lucky.”

Paul felt himself shrinking back to his normal size. The pressure eased on the shirt, and he felt his scars returning to normal. His forearm, now drenched with blood, no longer held the large cuts it had. The holes had shrunk to normal size along with the rest of the arm. A ring of puncture marks like that of a dog, with one strange hole where the one remaining fang had pierced him.

Paul drew out a long bandage from his back and Bill helped wrap it around his torn arm.

“Thing’s not moving.”

“It’s still breathing,” Bill noted.

“Is it healing or something?”

The beast lay still, blood welling from its broken mouth. Its snout still slanted awkwardly down, broken from Paul’s strike. Two other spines had shattered free in the fight, and a fourth bent at an odd angle, having partially cracked at some point. Its back legs still twitched, as if it were trying to rise up, but unable to do so.

“Finish it?”

Paul nodded. He drew the spine and crept toward the beast, holding the spine in front of him like a medieval sword. His blood had begun to stick. He could feel the blood pooling from between his fingers and trickling down his arm.

Then the creature rose with a growling roar. A broken maw ripped open, wide lips parting as a blood-slick mouth reared forward, catching Paul around the chest and wrenching him upward. Paul acted on instinct and drove the spine deep into the creature’s empty eye socket. The point sank into the flesh and bone at the back, and with a last heave, Paul managed to shove it down into the socket.

Then gravity turned off as he was lobbed across the canyon.

He felt his body fly up in a less-than-graceful arc. Sky met ground and swung around again, a spinning cacophony of brown. Then pain.

He ricocheted heavily off the wall of the canyon, slid a few feet along the ground, and came to rest in a bloodied heap.

With a groan, he pulled himself upright.

But the creature was already closing on him. Its eyes were still flaming, but one was now extinguished, thanks to the large spine driven through its skull. The blood had ceased pulsing from its mouth, leaving a strange stained smear along its broken jaw. The injuries to the back legs seem to have mostly healed, as it only slightly limped now as it stalked toward him.

Paul tried to grow to match the strength of the creature, but he couldn’t.

He could feel strength flowing into his arms, but he couldn’t grow any larger. Nothing would budge.

The creature lunged.

Teeth clamped around his shoulders and arm. He flailed uselessly at the broken mouth of the beast. It gnawed at him, unable to quite get enough purchase to rip anything free. They were both very broken. But the monster had the upper hand.

Claws raked across his front, rearing thick cuts across his flesh.

Paul punched at the spine, driving it like John Henry would have driven a railroad spike. The spine sank deeper and deeper into the monster’s skull, finally splitting out the back of the skull.

Roars answered each blow.

Then gravity turned off again.

The teeth closed tightly around his arm and he felt himself rising up off the ground.

Wind buffeted him as he was bodily lifted up off the floor of the canyon. But… what was this?

The creature was rising with him?

Hadn’t he been thrown? What was happening?

Then the creature’s mouth snapped open, and Paul fell. He dropped a dozen feet and landed heavily in the dirt, watching in pained shock as the creature continued up, up, up… then began to fall.

Paul dragged himself away as the broken body of the creature toppled down from above and splatted heavily against the canyon floor - too heavily for the weight of the creature. It had been shoved straight down and crushed into the stone.

Blood splattered in a grotesque circle around the shattered head. This time, it was dead nerves that caused the back legs to twitch. The flames vanished from dead eye sockets.

Bill stepped forward, pistol drawn, hand outstretched. Looped around his palm and wrist like some sort of simple rosary was Paul’s fairy cross.

“Handy little thing you got here.” He said with a smile.

There was no time for celebration.

Growls rumbled around the canyon, and red eyes sparked to life all around them. Creatures materialized from the cavern behind them, from up on the walls, from each end of the canyon. They were boxed in, and the eyes were getting closer.

Bill leveled his pistol as the closest one. “Gonna hold onto this thing for a bit longer.”

Paul nodded. He drew his axe, using it as a makeshift crutch. He used his other hand to wrench free the spine from the skull of the beasts. He flicked the blood and gore from it and leveled it at the closest monster.

“Any smart ideas?”

“None that don’t involve a tornado,” Bill replied, swapping his pistol to a different creature, who seemed to recognize the danger, falling back slightly before continuing to prowl closer, its spines all pulled tight across its back.

It was cowering.

Paul attempted to hold his spine-sword still, and the creatures nearing him also showed all the evidences - spines lowered, ears pulled back, entire posture one of almost crawling. Even the fire in their eyes seemed dimmer.

They passed the two and approached the broken body of their alpha. 

They spent a short time sniffing at the corpse, seemingly examining the blood and injuries.

The lead creatures then did something unexpected. They opened their mouths and bit the corpse, driving their front fangs into their former leader’s flesh. Blood began to drain back into the monster, vanishing from the strange halo that had splashed out on death.

Soon, it was a swarm, and soon there wasn’t a drop left.

Then the creatures turned, their eyes fixed on the pair.

The eyes glowed with a deeper fervor. Every fiery eye was trained on the two of them.

Then they bowed.

Paul looked to Bill. “Looks like they’re recognizing you as the new alpha.”

“Oh, that’s just great!” replied the lanky man. “I’m bad enough with Widowmaker. What will he think when I come home with my own pack of goat drinkers?”

“‘Goat suckers’ if that is any indication.” Paul replied, pointing at the now-dessicated heap that had been their alpha. Dry skin stretched across the remains of its skeleton, leaving it to a strange, deflated-balloon-look.

“El Chupacabra.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Spanish. Means ‘the goat sucker.’ Figured it sounded better than English.”

Paul laughed as the strange creatures stared up at them. Their spines slowly raised, as if they were waiting for instruction.

“Take me to Calico!” Bill commanded with a burst of aplomb.

And they all, as a pack, turned and galloped out of the canyon.

“We’d best follow!” Bill responded.

Paul chuckled. “I need the amulet back,” he replied with a limp. “Otherwise these injuries will take forever.”

Bill paused, gazing down at the amulet. “Such power you’ve gathered here, Paul.”

Paul felt a pinch of worry in his chest for the first time.

“Bill, I need it back.”

“You dropped it. It’s only right that I keep it.”

Paul felt his grip tense on the spine, and tried to pull himself up to full height.

The chupacabras paused at the entrance and turned back, watching the two men.

Paul held out a bloodied hand. “Bill, give me the amulet.”

A muscle tensed in Bill’s face, as if he were literally chewing on the words. A slight twitch to the lip. His eye. His hand flexed slightly, as if weighing the options.

“I could live here in full safety if you weren’t here.” He finally said.

Paul felt that familiar cold chill run down his back. “Don’t do this, Bill.”

The thinner man smirked. “I could, and you’re not in a position to stop me at all, are you?”

Then Bill grasped the cord of the amulet and seemed to be trying to pull on it - pull it off? His other hand clenched around the amulet, and a wry smile rose at the edge of his lips. He gaze up at Paul through a smirk, all the while his hands seemed to fight each other - one clenched, on attempting to pry back fingers.

Something twitched at the edge of his lips - a smile? A grimace?

His eyes suddenly shifted downward to the battle going on between his hands, and his wry smirk slowly folded into a glare. Muscles tensed at the edges of his jaw. His lips tightened - a firm line. Gritted teeth appeared behind lips that began to curl back.

Paul waited, watching the silent drama.

Finally, with much resistance, the fingers were pried back and the loop was drawn off.

“Take it.” He spat, tossing away the small cross.

It landed in the dirt and skitted to Paul’s feet.

Paul looked up. A wash of relief poured over the other man, and he slowly opened and closed the one that had held the amulet. 

“What was that all about?” Paul asked.

Bill shook his head. “I’m not sure… The voices in my head, something was absolutely screaming at me to claim the power of that thing and not give it back.”

“But you fought it?”

“I think so. I don’t remember having any sort of disagreement. I don’t remember anything, really. I just remember using it, wondering if I should keep it, and tossing it aside.”

“You looked ready to kill me.” Paul replied. “You threatened such.”

“I was joking.”

“You weren’t.”

A look of concern flashed on Bill’s features. His gaze flashed to his hand, then to the amulet, still lying in the dirt. Then he shrugged and, with a wide grin, let out a hearty chuckle. “Now that would be a fight for the legends, eh? Giant verses the guy who can ride a cyclone?”

Paul smiled and plucked the cord from the ground. He hung the small amulet in front of him for a moment, gazing at the strange stone shape that, at just the right angle, seemed to be a small cross. A fairy cross - an item of just banal commonness yet so arcane at the same time. He looped it back around his neck and felt… something. It was like a block had opened somewhere in the back of his mind. It was as if he’d just awoken from a good sleep after an exhausting day.

“You all right?”

Paul nodded. “Yeah. We should go.”

The sunlight was still streaming in from overhead. Bill hesitated.

“Not afraid of the sunlight anymore?”

Bill smiled, looking at his pack of chupacabras. “Not at all. Pretty sure these things could take on anything I sent them after.” Something shifted in his bag. “What?”

He drew it open, and out slithered the tendril.

“Forgot about you.” He gave it another whip. “Yeah, definitely holding on to you.” He looped it again, gave it a pet, and fastened it to his belt. It was seemingly contented to be out of the bag, and hung like any piece of rope.

“Well, this is an official circus now,” Paul joked.

“Indeed. And these are my monkeys.”