Fury of the Banshee Raiders

By Dallas Releford

While hunting for deer on a cold October afternoon, Mark Bryant encounters strange bat-like creatures attacking a wagon train. When the creatures kill a family in a covered wagon, Mark rescues a young woman and gets her to safety just as a violent, severe storm advances across the Nebraska Plains. Repelling the attack, they are astounded when the creatures disappear into a storm. While on the way back to Mark's home where he wants to check on his family, they meet a man, Marvin Skaggs offers to help them. When they arrive at Mark's farm, they encounter more of the creatures. Mark's family is killed in a battle with the creatures. They set out for a nearby town where they manage to form a posse and hunt for the creatures. In the following days, they discover that the creatures are ancient and have lived near an Indian tribe that may be able to shed more light on these ghastly invaders. Mark and Jane Markham fall in love and agree to help each other in solving the mystery and answering numerous questions about the violent creatures that terrifies them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dallas Releford
• Release date: Jul 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370912902

Book preview

FURY OF THE BANSHEE RAIDERS

By:

Dallas Releford

Edited by: Glenda R. Mack

Published by Dallas Releford at Smashwords

Fury of the Banshee Raiders

Copyright (C) 2017 Dallas Releford

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, places, events, organizations, or areas are intended to provide a feeling of authenticity and are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, dialogue and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Author or publisher is not responsible or liable for errors, content of websites or any other related information on the Internet or in any other form of publication no matter if it is print media or broadcast media.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without explicit permission from the author or publisher except in brief quotations used in an article or in a similar way.

Smashwords Edition, License notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Please note: This novel is for adult readers only. It contains numerous scenes of violence, nudity and sexual events that might be offensive to younger readers. It is my first venture into the world of reality where younger readers might be offended by any or all of the subject matter in this book. Please do not allow children access to it.

Dedication

I would like to thank my wife Sharon for her understanding while I was writing this book. This book is dedicated exclusively in memory of her. She passed away on August 18th, 2010, before I finished writing this novel. She is dearly missed and I will always have her in my heart and mind. Credit is also due to Glenda R. Mack who exercised her numerous talents as editor, proofreader and general assistant.

Introduction

Fury of the Banshee Raiders is an adventure into the world preceding The American Civil War and what happened during that war as experienced by a young man, Mark Bryant and his sweetheart, Jane Markham. While hunting for deer, Mark Bryant encounters a family under attack by strange creatures dressed in dark and foreboding uniforms. Even though these strange creatures attack the covered wagon and kill some of the party, Mark manages to rescue a young girl about his own age and becomes friends with her. In an effort to escape, they notice that a severe storm is headed in their direction. They are appalled when the raiders disappear into the storm instigating a mystery that will impel them into finding out about these strange creatures that do not adhere to the logical rules of nature. Who are these beings and did they really vanish into a dangerous storm? As events progress, Mark and Jane discover that every question only leads to more questions and more mysteries.

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Chapter 1

Mark Bryant followed a wide gully that ran generally toward the north. The male deer he had been following for two hours was somewhere ahead of him. Mark thought that the ‘buck’ might have hidden in thick trees and bushes that grew alongside the ravine. Mark hoped the ‘buck’ might lead him to the rest of the herd where his choices would be better for obtaining prime meat.

On this cold October day, Mark had his mind set on finding the largest deer in Kansas because he knew a large-size animal would be able to provide his family with more food. He was also wary of any strangers roaming the wide prairie that swept from horizon to horizon. On this day in 1858, Kansas and Missouri were saturated with roving bands of rogue outlaws, gunslingers and guerillas. Nobody was safe on the plains or anywhere else until the territory became a state and law took hold.

Except, it would be a very long time before law and organization came to Bloody Kansas.

Mark had heard his father and a neighbor talk about the current situation and what had caused it. Mark was raking hay out of the stalls as his father beat fiery-red horseshoes on an anvil that he’d brought from Kentucky several years earlier. The neighbor, Bruce Jenkins said that Kansas had become a state in 1854 thanks to the Kansas - Nebraska Act that allowed thousands of acres of Kansas and Nebraska land to be opened up for settlement by anxious and greedy farmers and ranchers. What the bill really did was to allow thousands of settlers to flow into the area. The issue at stake was whether slavery should be allowed in the newly formed western states, or not. People soon chose sides and Bloody Kansas became a battleground that preceded the American Civil War.

As they worked, the neighbor had continued. Yep, that’s the way it all happened and now we’re paying for the politicians mistakes.

Josh Bryant had shaken his head, wiped his perspiring forehead with his shirtsleeve and stared at the neighbor. It doesn’t matter whose side you are on, either, he had said. I heard that one band of those guerillas killed women, children and even livestock.

They call them the Banshee Raiders and it is said that they are really ghosts of dead men. However, they have never been seen in the daylight, so far. They always arrive during a severe thunderstorm.

Aw, don’t believe that, the neighbor had assured him unaware that Mark was now listening to every detail. They’re just saying that. It’s a ruse to scare the tar out of more innocent people.

Well, Josh Bryant declared, I reckon they sure have me scared. I’ve been watching that sky like a hawk stalking a baby chicken every time a thunderstorm comes rolling across those plains. I guess that’s partially due to the things I’ve heard about them.

Must be, the neighbor said. They say the leader’s name is Jake Pardon. He carries four Colts and two-lever action repeating rifles. That’s not all, Josh, he also carries a long sword and he cuts people’s heads off as clean as you please. He wears a black hat and the rest of his clothes are black too. Sometimes, as many as a hundred men ride with him.

A shivering wave of horror swept through Josh Bryant’s body beginning between his shoulder blades and ending in each arm and leg. The mention of the name, Jake Pardon was enough to paralyze him for many seconds before he took a deep breath. He’d heard many stories about the ghost soldiers and if only a few of those stories were true then it was something a man should pay attention to. If this violence continues, we’re going to be involved in a civil war before the year is over.

Yep, the neighbor said glancing across the plains as if he expected a phantom army to come marching at them. I reckon. There are guerillas and murdering outlaws all over the countryside. The South is roaring like a lion and the newspapers are saying that some of the states are ready to leave the Union. A few of the states have already established armies and are threatening to secede from the Union. Josh, there are numerous bands of these guerillas all over Kansas and Missouri. There is a group of the ruffians led by Norton Samuels and they are bad, but the worst is that gang led by Jake Pardon. I think there are at least five gangs. Most of those gangs belong to the larger band called the Banshee Raiders. Most people say they are devils or demons. They come in a storm. I don’t believe that though because they have battled physical soldiers. The neighbor cleared his throat and continued. Some people around the country have proclaimed that they will go to war if Lincoln is elected.

That’ll be in 1860, Josh said. That’s only a couple of years away.

Meantime, we have a war raging in Kansas, Missouri and Nebraska, the Neighbor replied. We’ll be lucky to survive. They’re killing everyone in towns and in the country. Those marauders under Jake Pardon and Norton Samuels are out there. You mark my words, Josh, that murderer Jake Pardon is going to cause us a lot of trouble. And, you can take my word for it. Pardon is a demon, a soldier for the Devil himself. The neighbor was warning Josh to take his family and leave while he was still among the living. Jake Pardon was the most evil man on the earth. He had more friends in Hell than he had anywhere else.

Mark knew all that he’d heard from his father and Mr. Jenkins was the truth. At seventeen years old, Mark was tall, strong and courageous. A Colt revolver hung from his right hip. It was a present from his father when he reached the young age of 15 years old. Mark was fast and was confident he could handle himself against most aggressors, except the dangerous men that paraded across the plains were more than one person could handle. He knew that his only chance of survival was to avoid them and hope they did not come to his father’s ranch, the Bar-B. As Mark stumbled through brush and dead briars, he put the danger that threatened him in the back of his mind. He’d heard Mr. Jenkins and his father talking almost three days ago and he had soon decided that he would not worry about the situation. He would face it when the time came. Now, he had a job to do. A hunger pang in his stomach reminded him of their desperate situation.

In times of heavy rain, the gully became a raging stream to be reckoned with. In early October though, the leaves on the trees were turning various colors making it even more difficult for Mark to see the deer. The only clue that the deer was still on the move were the tracks it made as it wandered north where it could find abundant food and water. The gully had been dry since early June. Mark kept moving wondering if he should turn back or keep following the deer. He thought that maybe the deer was part of a large herd that he knew roamed the area although he rarely saw more than one or two at a time. If so, then he might bag two deer instead of just one. Food was scarce out here on the Nebraska prairie.

Mark Bryant was five feet and nine inches tall. He was well muscled from tedious hard work on his father’s ranch. His long brown hair almost reached his broad shoulders. His sky blue eyes could see in the dark as well as any forest animal. His wits were as keen as a sharp knife. He’d hunted deer, antelope, buffalo and cougars. He wore a wide brimmed brown hat and a deerskin coat over his blue shirt and dark jeans. His many years of rough labor on the farm had made him as strong as an ox.

As he walked up the rocky ravine, he weighed the positive against the negative. Mark sometimes found it difficult to make responsible decisions. His family needed the meat. It could mean the difference between a full stomach and starving. The Bryant Family had moved to Nebraska more than a year ago even though Mark thought it might have been longer than that. They had bought a farm and put out their first crop and garden. The corn crop had not met his father’s expectations because of the mild drought and the hailstorms that tore the leaves to shreds several times. The only thing they had to eat was food from the garden, a few rabbits and an occasional deer. Killing the deer was essential for their survival. Mark was more than five miles from home and if he did not return soon, his parents would be worried. At seventeen years old, his family had allowed him to roam free hunting deer and rabbits for the table and going on an occasional exploring expedition. The only thing they had left was hope that they would be able to make it through a long hard winter that was sure to come.

His father, Josh Bryant was a typical hardworking farmer who was a good provider for his family. They’d planted a vegetable garden, owned a herd of ten cattle, four horses and two milk cows. They’d added a team of mules last year to help plow the fields. His father had also convinced the stage company that served the area to make his ranch a stop on their regular route. He provided fresh horses for the stages. Even though his crops weren’t as he expected, he still worried about the cold, harsh winter that was soon to come. They also had hope and faith that things would be better next year.

Clutching a .50 caliber Sharp’s rifle in both hands, he rubbed sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve and moved on. He had decided that he’d follow the deer for another fifteen minutes and if he had not located the elusive creature by then he’d head home. Mark did not like failure and his father would not appreciate it even though he knew you could not always be successful. The deer meant food on the table.

Mark had three sisters, Marty, Phyllis and Carrie. Marty was the youngest with blond hair and blue eyes. Phyllis was sixteen with light blonde hair and blue eyes. Carrie was twenty with red hair and blue eyes. Josh Bryant was his father’s name. His mother’s name was Mary Dye Bryant. Mark’s only brother, Walter died when his horse threw him into a deep gully.

Mark came to a cluster of sycamore trees that grew in the ditch and alongside each bank. Something scared a flock of birds. They flew into the sky just as Mark heard two shots ring out; one after the other. A cold chill ran down his spine. It was unusual for hunters to be in the area. The nearest neighbor was five or six miles to the south near the town of Francis that was commonly called Tecumseh, the county seat of Johnson County. Shaking his fear from his body, at least for a few moments, Mark rushed forward and crawled on his belly through the trees until he came to a meadow down in a small valley. He thought that someone had shot his deer. Mark had come to think of the deer as his. He felt a sudden rush of anger that soon subsided when he realized that other deer were common in the area. He just could not figure out where the hunter had come from. It was indeed rare to meet anyone out on the lonely prairie.

When he crawled to the top of the hill and looked down into the valley his heart almost leaped out of his chest. Twelve ghostly soldiers all mounted on black horses with ornamented saddles and gray uniforms were firing at a man, woman and young girl behind a covered wagon. A young girl, not much older than Mark ran from the cover of the wagon as the soldiers fired at the wagon. Mark knew he did not have a chance against them and neither did the man and woman using the wagon for cover. The girl stumbled and fell. The soldiers closed in on the wagon. They each had two Colt revolvers in their hands and they knew how to use them. The man and woman were cut down by dozens of bullets as Mark aimed at the nearest soldier and fired. The man looked in Mark’s direction and headed toward him. Mark kept firing as fast as he could. His bullets did not seem to have any effect on the soldiers. They were all headed in his direction now and there was not much he could do about it. It looked as if his decision to help the family had been the wrong one. He was outnumbered and there was nothing he could do to help the girl.

There was nothing he could do to help himself. He would never see his sisters, or his mother and father again. His bullets seemed to go right through the soldiers. Mark wondered how that could be possible.

Chapter 2

Using tree trunks to shield himself from the brutal onslaught, Mark Bryant waited for the end to come. He was not idle though. Born to a proud Scottish family, he was not going to quit and die while he still had a chance to live. All Mark could think of was the young girl and her family. Why would anyone want to attack a family? Who were these brazen demons that didn’t seem to care how many people they murdered? Did they have some kind of vendetta against these people? Mark didn’t know for sure except hatred and revenge were the only motives he could think of. The people he’d seen shortly before they were shot down most certainly did not look like they were rich. The canvas on the old wagon looked ragged and they were not wearing expensive clothes. He could think of a motive later, he thought. There were more important things to do now like stay alive. He had the impression that the family had come a long way and that probably meant they were settlers on their way west. Where had they come from?

Mark used an old ancient rotting log for cover. From the bushes and trees, he could see twelve mounted men dressed in gray uniforms with revolvers in both hands riding toward him. Were these men members of one of the numerous guerrilla bands that brutally ravaged the land? The appearance of these marauders terrified Mark. Except, there was something strange; something different about these soldiers. Mark could see through them as they rode forward. They were translucent, like real ghosts.

As they neared him, fear made his heart quiver and his throat was dry. Despite the overwhelming odds, he stood his ground firing as many times as he could even though the screaming bullets didn’t seem to do any good. The soldiers fired at him and he could see the smoke from the barrels of their weapons. What he could not see or hear were the bullets that didn’t seem to come close to him. It seemed impossible to him that they could fire dozens of bullets at him and none of them hit him or zipped by his head like angry buzzing bees. Who or what were these creatures?

Mark suddenly became aware that dark clouds were gathering overhead and in the western sky blotting out the sun. Lightning flashed and thunder roared off in the distance. A severe thunderstorm was approaching quickly from the southwest. On the Plains, sudden storms like the one now approaching him usually meant that tornadoes were in the area. Continuing to fire at the figures, he kept a close watch on them in case they turned back and launched another attack. He was astounded when they slowly began to vanish. Even more astounding was the fact that they were rising into the sky like a legion from hell. Mark watched spellbound as the mounted demons slowly drifted off toward the oncoming storm as if it were beckoning to them. Perhaps they were going to fight the storm, Mark thought and then dismissed the idea. They reminded him of a column of soldiers charging into the enemy without any fear at all. How could such things happen?

In the west, clouds turned an ominous green, purple and black.

Ignoring his safety Mark watched as the ghost soldiers disappeared into the storm. He hoped he never encountered them again. He was still shivering as cold rain began to fall. Mark was jerked back into his reality by a loud scream.

Focusing his attention on the young girl Mark jumped to his feet and rushed toward her. She was sitting in tall dead grass in the meadow. All he could see was her head and shoulders. With her hands clasped to her face, she was screaming as loud as she could. Mark worried because he thought she might be in shock. Keeping a wary eye in the direction where the ghost riders had disappeared, Mark rushed toward the girl. He had to get her to safety before the storm hit. The sky had become even darker since the riders disappeared in its direction.

Tears poured out of her eyes and her face was flushed. Flailing her arms wildly, she raved madly as Mark attempted to take her by her arm and lead her to a deeper part of the ravine where they would be safe. Still weeping, she