The Dead Reckoning

By Clive Carpenter

It's 1881...

Murderous outlaw Seth Granger and his gang, Granger's Dozen, have terrorized southern Louisiana for several years. From their cabin hidden deep in a swamp, Seth leads his men in roughing up homesteaders, businesses, and peaceful Indian villages for a “protection fee”.

When Chief Red Bear and his peaceful Choctaw village refuse to give in to Seth's threats, the gang decides to make an example of them by slaughtering the entire village... every man, woman, and child.

News of the slaughter soon reaches the Governor. In an attempt to keep the situation from becoming a national panic, for fear of an Indian uprising, he hires retired U.S. Marshal Chess Jamison to bring Seth in to answer for his crimes. Chess rides into the steamy swamplands of southern Louisiana to stop the mad man.

However, neither of them is aware that there was a sole survivor from the Choctaw village massacre... Tall Feathers, the village Shaman. Using an ancient curse known as The Dead Reckoning, the old man raises the chief and several generations of warriors from their graves, unleashing an unstoppable army of the dead that will not rest in peace until they have retrieved the scalps of Seth and his gang.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BloodType H
• Release date: Jan 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370105304

Book preview

THE DEAD RECKONING

CLIVE CARPENTER

This book is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the publisher.

Cover art and design by J. Brian

Copyright © 2015 Scorpios Media, LLC.

All rights reserved.

FOR DYLAN

who continues to inspire me even though you’re miles away.

SPECIAL THANKS TO

Margo & Angel, for giving me all the late nights I needed to get this book finished… uninterrupted.

Keith, for taking the steps that inspired me to explore this story deeper than the original short script it’s based upon.

Karla, Mike & Bobby for being in my corner with endless encouragement and positive vibes.

And finally, saving the best for last…

my Creator, God Almighty, for blessing me with the gift of storytelling to share with the world.

CHAPTERS

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

EPILOGUE

OTHER BOOKS

1

GUNFIRE and the cries of women and children fill the morning air in a small, isolated Choctaw village.

Nestled in the forest near a creek that snakes through a wooded landscape and spills into the Atchafalaya River Basin, the little community's peaceful Sunday morning is shattered by violence and bloodshed.

Toppled and in disarray, baskets of food and shattered pottery lay scattered among the eleven straw huts that stand surrounded by a squat wall of logs and brush; a tiny barrier that does more to keep children and animals inside the village than it does to keep murderous outlaws and riff-raff out.

Twelve armed invaders trample the ground on horseback, rounding up citizens and shooting any Choctaw men who attempt to fight back. These invaders are a gang of gritty, grimy men of various color - white, black, brown, and red - who call themselves Granger's Dozen.

Smoke trails rise from several camp fires and mingle with the gun smoke that hangs heavily among the huts as villagers attempt to find cover and loved ones amid the chaos.

It takes less than ten minutes, then, it's all over. The village has fallen, taken by surprise this quiet morning as its citizens had been going about their early morning chores. Now, five of the village men lay dead, including two elders.

After fifteen minutes, there is no stray movement in the village except for the lone wolf that wonders, aimlessly, between the huts.

At the far end of the village, away from the creek, all of the villagers stand huddled, unarmed, scared, and surrounded by the Dozen on horseback.

Women weep softly and try their best to calm crying infants and toddlers as the stronger men - some bloodied and bruised by the Dozen - surround their families and the remaining elders, shielding them from the violent invaders.

One invader holsters his gun and climbs down from his saddle. Ruggedly handsome at forty-one years old, Seth Granger wears the finest clothing of any of the gang members: black trousers, tan button-down shirt, black vest, wide-brimmed leather hat. His gun rides low on his hip, in true gunslinger fashion, and the gold chain of a pocket watch glints in the morning sun as it dangles from his vest. The week's growth of blonde hair on his face accents his vest and highlights his tanned, chiseled features.

Seth rolls a cigarette as he casually approaches the mass of villagers.

Mornin', Chief, he singles out the hulking, village leader, Chief Red Bear.

Standing at nearly seven feet tall, Red Bear's imposing presence has little effect on Seth and his gun-wielding entourage. The large Choctaw man stares at Seth, his piercing gaze burning a hole right through the cocksure outlaw.

Seth lights his cig and blows the smoke through his nostrils.

We got a meeting scheduled, you and me, he looks up at Red Bear, squinting into the sun that is slowly rising behind the mountainous warrior. You didn't forget, now, did ya?

Red Bear remains silent.

I know you're a little disturbed, Seth casually glances around at the mess he's managed to orchestrate. He points to the surrounding huts with his smoldering cig, Looks like we interrupted your Sunday brunch or something. But, I did tell you I'd be back.

Seth steps aside and sweeps his arm invitingly toward Red Bear's hut. Let's chat. The sooner we talk and I'm satisfied with the state of our relationship, the sooner y'all can throw them five dead sacks of shit into the ground and get back to whatever it is you heathens do on the Lord's day.

Red Bear turns to the crowd, silently reassuring them that everything will be fine. Then, he turns back to Seth and walks toward his hut.

Seth takes a drag from his cig and looks at the crowd. Y'all talk amongst yourselves, he says as he blows the smoke at them. I'll be right back.

Keep 'em entertained, will ya, buddy? Seth shoots a wink and an evil grin up at his second in command, Jonah, still mounted on his horse. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from Jonah's saddlebag and falls in behind Red Bear as Jonah smiles, revealing a gap that once held his left front tooth.

Yassa, boss, Jonah's bass-filled voice bellows sarcastically, followed by a nasty laugh. Jonah is just as physically imposing as Chief Red Bear. As a former slave, the years spent in the fields of a southern plantation have built Jonah into a hulking monster of a man. He is chewing on a mouthful of tobacco and wears several days of facial growth. A red bandanna protects his bald head from the sun. His most striking feature, however, is the long scar that travels from his left brow, across his dead, gray left eye, and diagonally across his face to his right cheek.

The rest of the Dozen join Jonah in laughter.

Some members of the Dozen are scruffy and unshaven, while others don't even look like outlaws at all. They all wear an array of different styles of clothing from old, dirty Calvary trousers to muddied and torn ponchos.

However, Jonah is not the only black man in the gang; there is also Noah and his younger brother, Zack. Mounted next to them are six white men: Waylon, Jordan, Billy, Jimmy, Slim and, Seth's third in command, Chuck.

Aside from Jonah, the only other two members of the gang who truly stand out are Tequila, a notoriously wanted, bushy-bearded Mexican gunslinger, and a statuesque Navajo renegade simply known as Big Red.

Jonah spits a slimy mass of chew, leaving a string of drool hanging from his chin as he smiles at the huddled mass of villagers.

SETH ENTERS Red Bear's hut and the humidity from within sucker punches him right in the face.

Christ almighty, the square-jawed outlaw takes off his hat, revealing his sweat-drenched, shoulder-length blonde hair, and fans himself against the overwhelming heat with it. How the hell do you people stand this shit?

He takes a seat on the opposite side of the hut from the shirtless Chief.

It's too damned hot to even finish this thing, he flicks his half-smoked cigarette to the dirt floor.

Red Bear sits, silently, as Seth takes a deep drink from the whiskey bottle and winces as the effects overtake him for a moment.

He notices the Chief staring at him.

I am so sorry, Chief. Would you like some?

Red Bear says nothing and, with his chin held high in defiance, he just stares at Seth. A bead of sweat runs down the red man's forehead and into his eye; he doesn't even flinch.

Seth shrugs, Hell, more for me, then. He takes another big swallow and corks the bottle. Okay, down to business, He lounges