Fort Cruel: Ezekiel Cool Weird Western, #2

By Rob Moody

A fort is supposed to keep evil out. But what if evil gets in?

 

Ezekiel and his people only wanted to warn the rest of the country of the sickness. But how do they make the army believe their story when they're still struggling to believe it themselves?

 

Turns out they don't need to do the convincing. The biters will.

 

(This is book 2 of the Ezekiel Cool Weird Western Trilogy.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: NCP
• Release date: Jul 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393651192

Book preview

Chapter 1

W e’re not going anywhere until we get you cleaned up, Myra said, as if she’d been bossing him around her whole life.

I’m fine. Ezekiel managed to sound gruff, but it didn’t bother him to hear the care in her voice.

Nonsense. Sit down. Not for the first time, her command had an odd power over him, and he sat.

She eased his hat off his head, and a lock of sweaty hair fell onto his forehead. He moved to push it away as she leaned in for a closer look at his head wound. She smelled like rose water. That is one nasty bump you’ve got there.

He didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed. It was a nasty rock that jumped up and punched me in the side of the head.

Jed laughed, and Ezekiel winked at the boy, a wink that made his head hurt worse.

Unbelievably, it has stopped bleeding, though I can’t imagine how, she said. It’s a fairly wide gash. Stay still. She disappeared behind him.

Are we taking all these guns with us? Kip asked, looking into the bag.

Between Ezekiel’s own weapons and those they’d taken off the dead, they had amassed quite a collection. We won’t need all of them. Taking too many would slow us down.

Myra returned with a wet cloth, which felt blessedly cool on his head. He relaxed a bit and felt sleepy. He was exhausted. They all were. They’d not slept the night before. They’d been too busy fighting monsters.

I’m hungry, Jed piped up.

Biscuits in the tin over there. Ezekiel pointed with his eyes. Might as well give some to Lucky too. Not sure when he ate last.

I fed him some scraps just before the war broke out, Myra said as she continued to gently scrub dried blood from his face.

So he wasn’t the only one who’d felt like he was fighting a war. He’s been your dog all along?

She wet the cloth again and then went back to work. He’s not my dog. I don’t remember when I first saw him out prowling around, and I don’t know where he came from. She looked down at the pup, who was staring up at her with worship in his eyes. But I think he’s ours now.

You’re the one who named him Lucky, then? Ezekiel asked.

Kip did, Myra said and smiled brightly at her right-hand man.

She’s been feeding him for a while. I said he was lucky to have found Myra, and I started calling him that. Kip shrugged. That’s all. He seemed reluctant to take credit for naming the dog.

Jed came to Lucky’s side with a biscuit, and Lucky forgot about Myra for a moment.

Careful, Jed! Myra said quickly. He might bite you without meaning to.

That warning struck Kip as hilarious. He belted out a laugh with such gusto that it nearly tipped him over backward, and then he kept right on laughing. He tired himself out so much that he had to pull out a chair and have a seat.

"I’m not sure it was that funny, she said. How many guns are we taking?"

We each grab two six-shooters and a rifle, and make sure we’ve got bullets to match what we grab. He gently pushed Myra’s hand away from his face, stood, and grabbed a rifle.

You said it’s not a long trip, right? Jed said.

Correct.

Myra ruffled Jed’s hair. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.

Ezekiel was reluctant to leave his home. It felt familiar, safe. First step in surviving the trip is starting on it, he said, putting his hat on.

I was going to bandage that! Myra said, reaching for him.

It’s fine. He looked at Kip and Jed. Would you two go get the horses ready?

Kip gave him a confused look. The horses were already ready. Ezekiel stared at him, willing him to just get out of his house. Finally, Kip gave up on understanding and simply complied. Come on, kid. He tried to hand Jed two pistols.

I’ve already got a pistol, he said proudly. And a rifle.

Fine. Here’s an extra. Kip gave him one and shoved the other into his own waistband. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many guns.

Ezekiel picked out another pistol for Myra, knowing she already had one, and then added a yellow boy to the mix.

I don’t think I’m going to need that, she said, looking at the Winchester, but she took it just the same.

Without looking at her, and keeping his voice low, Ezekiel said, I sent them away so that—

I know why you sent them away, and yes, I’ll clean my bite wound. Watch the door.

Chapter 2

It was easy traveling . The plains rolled out before them, and despite the pounding pain in the side of Ezekiel’s head and his overall exhaustion, it felt good to be free. Free of the town. Free of the living nightmare. It had been more than a year since he’d made any kind of real trip. It felt good now to be doing so, even if he was headed toward a cavalry fort. At least he now had his own horse. And a saddle to boot.

Occasionally, his mind would nag him about Myra’s injury, but it was easy to convince himself that she would be fine. If she hadn’t changed into a monster yet, she probably wasn’t going to. Maybe the biter hadn’t bitten her hard enough, or long enough. Maybe he hadn’t managed to get the poison into her. Or maybe Myra was just special. This thought made his cheeks warm.

A few miles outside of town, they came across another wandering horse. Ezekiel thought he recognized the pinto from the livery. He slowed his mount. You sure you don’t want your own horse, Jed? He’d already made the offer before they’d left the house, but the boy was nervous to ride alone.

Jed shook his head quickly. No, thanks.

Ezekiel checked with Kip to make sure that decision was still all right with him, and he said that it was. Kip sure was being agreeable. Though, Ezekiel had never known him not to be.

Despite Kip’s willingness to share his horse, Ezekiel swung a rope around the pinto’s neck and silently invited him to join them on their journey.

Only a few miles later, they came upon a camp. Ezekiel immediately recognized the picketed horse as belonging to his friend Mitch. Surely, Mitch’s family had left town together. Had they done so with only one horse? He tried to remember if they owned more than one, and wasn’t sure. Neither could he remember if they owned a wagon. This made him quite frustrated with himself. Sheriffs were supposed to notice the details of things. He vowed that things would be different when he got back to his post.

Where is everybody? Jed asked, and his small voice sounded loud in the stillness.

Ezekiel didn’t want to speculate.

Maybe we should keep going, boss, Kip suggested, a tremor in his voice.

Ezekiel shushed him and dismounted. He knelt beside what had recently been a fire and put the back of his hand next to the charred wood. Cold. Not too recently, then. He stood and looked carefully in every direction. There was nowhere for people to hide in this terrain, unless they were lying flat in the grass, and he fervently hoped that wasn’t the case. A few short trees spattered the landscape, and someone could hide behind one of those if he wanted to, but why would Mitch and his family be hiding from people?

Mitch? Ezekiel called out. Agathe?

Kip begged him to be quiet, his horse prancing in place.

Was something making the horse nervous, or was it only reflecting Kip’s fear? It’s Ezekiel! he called out. We’re headed to Fort Lower Brule!

For a long time, there was nothing, and just as Ezekiel was going to give up and move on, he saw Mitch. At least, he saw what used to be Mitch. He had been lying down in the grass, but he wasn’t dead. At least, not completely. Ezekiel groaned and headed toward him.

What are you doing? Kip hissed, and Myra answered him in short order: the sheriff wasn’t going to leave his friend out here like this.

Ezekiel didn’t want to shoot Mitch. He didn’t want to use up a bullet, nor did he want to announce their presence when they were so near Indian territory. But Mitch had been a whaler in life, and Ezekiel didn’t want to test how strapping he was in death. So, when he got within six feet, Ezekiel used his Peacemaker to give Mitch the most dignified death that he could. Then he dragged Mitch over to rest behind a tree he hoped was distinctive enough that he’d recognize it on his way back through. He would pick Mitch up then, take him home, and bury him in the town’s cemetery, the cemetery that would quadruple in size before he finished seeing to everyone.

While he was arranging Mitch’s body as respectfully as he could, he saw a bite mark on the inside of his forearm. It was small, obviously from a child, and the bite wasn’t deep, not even as deep as Myra’s. Mitch had hardly bled from it. Then he must have been bitten somewhere else on his body. Ezekiel looked him over carefully, but there were no other wounds.

This wasn’t good news. It wasn’t the shallowness of Myra’s bite that had her still in her right mind. So why did she remain alive?

He stood up and looked over each shoulder carefully, realizing a child might not make much noise in the tall grass, especially a dead one. Deeply unsettled, he returned to his small group, who had dismounted and were standing around looking nervous. Kip had drawn one of his pistols.

He was with his family, wasn’t he? Myra asked.

Ezekiel decided not to tell her about Mitch’s bite mark. I thought so, but I don’t see anyone. Maybe they rode off when he got bit.

Kip asked the obvious. But who bit him? His head spun around wildly, scanning the area.

Jed, Ezekiel said, why don’t you take Mitch’s horse. It was time the boy got