Chapter 12

I was dead tired and didn’t want to wake up, yet the sound of Crusher growling next to me was forcing me to do just that, ruining my blissful state. I wanted to keep sleeping as morning couldn’t possibly have arrived so soon. The last number of days has been incredibly gruelling and fucking hard on both the body and the mind. The men had turned sour and sullen ever since Frankie had his encounter with a demon and Jimmy found those fucking circles of his in the grass.

Gone were the days of jovial singing and joking. The men no longer enjoyed each other’s company or their daily tasks. Instead each day was filled with anxiety and trepidation. We worked, slept and ate in fear of another shit filled encounter, wondering if the next one would be our last.

Perhaps I don’t need to say it, but the men no longer gave a shit about the cattle. They paid little attention to its collective needs or wants. Instead of keeping a vigilant eye on the cows, the men kept staring out at the plains and up at the sky, seemingly waiting for another attack or possibly any excuse to ditch this job and retreat back to the safety of their homes or residences.

Nobody could blame them for this as even I didn’t feel completely safe or at ease out here. It’s not that I necessarily believed in Frankie’s demon tale or the Indian’s sky warning but I knew something weird was taking place nonetheless and wanted nothing more than for this shit job to end.

I couldn’t wait to get to Wichita and unload these fucking beasts. I no longer cared how healthy or fat a state they’d arrive in. We’d been pushing the cows much harder than I’d ever pushed a herd before and as a result, the cows were noticeably unhappy and thin.

But I simply didn’t give a fuck.

I knew I’d hear it from Dolan soon enough. We only had three or four days left on this fucking trail and then he was sure to raise hell when seeing for himself how skinny we’d brought ‘em in. Gone would be my bonus, replaced with fits of rage and yelling, but at least he’d have his cattle and wouldn’t have an excuse to kill us all for abandoning this post in some perceived act of betrayal.

He’d have every right to be pissed as they wouldn’t fetch as good a price but frankly... fuck him and his goddamn profits.

Dolan would always be a bastard who cared for nobody but himself. Shit, I hadn’t even wanted this job so why should I care how well it goes? This was the last job of his I’d ever take. I would head north and pan for gold before taking another one of his herds through this goddamn wilderness.

Fuck, I should be in Texas right now, on my safe little farm with my shitty little wife, far from any sky anomalies, demonic signs or unexplainable dangers. How the hell had I wandered so far from that simple life?

Maybe Susan is all I need after all, I now reasoned, considering the fucking alternatives. Maybe I could make an actual go with her once I got home. Seeing her grumpy but striking face day after day was better than spending any more time with these sorry assholes and Dolan’s ugly cows.

But what about Allison?

Who the fuck knows. She’s getting married and there’s nothing I can do about it. She obviously doesn’t care about me for if she did there’s no way she’d of agreed to the engagement in the first place. I needed to move on and let her go.

Wow, I was really maturing out here and for some reason this pissed me off. Maybe I didn’t want to find a silver lining in any of this. Maybe I wanted nothing more than to wallow in my own misery. Maybe it was all shit and I should just stopped thinking.

It hurt the brain after all.

To make matters worse I’d made a complete ass of myself just the other day. Thankfully none of the men witnessed my shame and I certainly would never tell them, but it took place three mornings ago.

I was getting myself cleaned up by the river and had removed all my clothes except for my holey long-johns when four cows suddenly made a break for it. A snake likely spooked them, but it really didn’t matter for there were no other drovers to be found so it was up to me to get the strays back in line.

I hopped on my horse, barefoot and hatless, with nothing but my underwear to conceal my shame. I thought nothing of it because corralling four strays would normally take no time at all. But little did I know that a small ranch would be found just over the hill and that my dumbass cattle would find their way to that very spot.

If I’d of known that I would have taken the extra time to dress accordingly, but instead I found myself riding up to the dwelling, still chasing after those stupid cows, with my wang practically flapping about in the wind.

“Oh my!” a young lady squealed as I came over the mound unexpectedly. She and her beautiful sisters were hanging their fresh washings on the clothesline to dry.

“Fuck’s sakes,” I mumbled to myself as embarrassment filled me to the core.

“Hello there,” one of the sisters called out to me. She smiled bashfully while looking me over from bare head to bare toe.

“Hi ya stranger,” another lady said as I rode to a complete stop.

“Sorry ma’am,” I said with a nod. “Just hunting down some stray cattle.”

“In your underwear?” One of them joked and the others giggled in delight. “Is that how ya’ll do it these days?”

I forced a smile though I felt my face go beat red. “Not my usual way,” I said, wanting nothing more than to crawl under a rock. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“Your cows just passed through here,” the oldest girl said, obviously sensing my discomfort. “They went that-a-way.” She pointed to the south.

“Thank you ma’am,” I replied respectfully. “I’ll get out of your hair then. Again, I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” the younger gal said gleefully, as she brushed her curly auburn hair behind her ear. “My name is Jessica. Come back any time. We ain’t often greeted by the company of such well dressed gentlemen.”

The girls had another laugh at my expense and there was nothing more I could say so I simply turned my horse and rode off as fast I could, desperately seeking escape from this embarrassing situation.

Grrrrr, Crusher growled again, pulling me out of my quasi unconscious state. This time he seemed more nervous and his anxiety forced me to finally wake up and take heed of the situation.

“What is it boy?” I whispered while forcing my heavy eyes wide open. It was pitch black and I could barely make out the underside of the Chuck Wagon I slept under each and every night.

Crack. A branch snapped a few dozen feet to the left of my position.

The noise caused Crusher to snarl all the more.

I scurried onto my belly hoping to better see what was going on. I pulled out my pistol fearing one of those fucking anomalies had caught up to us at long last.

“Someone’s coming!” I heard Cookie whisper. “There’s one on the right too.”

It seemed all of my men were awake and ready for action. They’d taken up defensive positions all around our campsite, with weapons drawn and this was unusual for several reasons. First, on an average cattle drive we’d never have chosen a campsite like this one we’re now in. Normally we’d of just parked ourselves in the middle of some wide open, exposed plain, thinking little of defendable positions and such.

Also we’d never have slept with our weapons this close by. Instead they’d of been safely stored in Cookie’s chuck wagon, but this wasn’t an average ride and we all knew it. Everything had changed because of these weird events we’d been experiencing out here.

On this job we no longer made camp until locating some suitable cover. The boys barely slept and when they did it’s with one eye wide open. We’d doubled the patrols and barely went anywhere without a firearm. This was definitely affecting our job performances, not to mention our moral, but it was a small price to pay for feeling any measure of safety. None of us wanted to be caught with our pants down if and when danger struck.

Case in point, someone or something was moving about and we’re not going to take any chances. The boys will gladly shoot first and ask questions later. They’re too riled up to be stopped and I had no intention of getting in their way. I’ll gladly put some lead in anything trying to cause us harm.

“What the hell is wrong with you fellas?” Somebody called out from the darkness. “What’s got your britches in such a bunch?”

I didn’t recognize the voice but whoever’s out there was trying very hard to come across as light hearted and friendly, obviously wanting to put us at ease even though the situation called for anything but.

“Who the hell are you?” I shouted back. My voice echoed off the darkened trees and boulders that surrounded us all. “We’re armed, you should know that!”

“We have you surrounded and outgunned,” the stranger called back. “Not rightly sure why y’all are packing heat ... never seen drovers act so skittish before. Yas are worse than those Longhorns ya got there. Maybe yas are a bunch of smarty sons of bitches, but I reckon yas could simply be cowardly pricks ... frankly it doesn’t really matter either way.”

“How’s that?” I replied while cocking back the hammer on my pistol. “We got ourselves some decent cover and each of my boys is armed to the teeth. We ain’t your average batch of drovers. We might be more trouble than we’re worth for you and your sorry band of assholes.”

This wasn’t my first encounter with cattle rustlers. I’d had some experience dealing with this scourge on our normally quiet industry. These gangs are nothing more than lazy, twofaced assholes who’ve never worked an honest day in their miserable lives. Most times they could be bought off with a reasonable sum of coin or cattle. Normally they didn’t want to risk harm to themselves so they’d take whatever they could get as a payoff.

“Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement,” I yelled back feeling quite confident in our chances of resolving this peacefully. The rustlers obviously didn’t expect us to be armed, so surely they’d take a modest pay day over a full fledged gun fight.

Right?

“How many cattle will it take for you to leave us the hell alone?” I asked figuring it just a matter of haggling for the right price. I made eye contact with Jimmy before getting a reply.

My brother shot me an encouraging look as he remained at the ready by the edge of our campsite. He had some nice cover, crouched next to a thick growth that stretched on for miles to his right.

“Not going to be that easy,” the man replied. “I have twenty men surrounding your campsite right now...” the rustler paused before shouting back. “We haven’t had a decent payday in quite a while.”

“So?” I asked. “How is that my problem?”

“You see I’m going to have to take ALL them cows off your hands,” the selfish rustler practically laughed at this point. “Dolan stole them from my boss and he’s pissed. Wants ‘em all back and interest to boot.”

“Fucking Dolan,” I mumbled aloud, realizing the gravity of our situation.

“But thanks for doing the heavy lifting,” the man continued sarcastically. “We appreciate you droving them this far, but we’re going to need ‘em back now.”

“You know there’s no fucking way that’s going to happen,” I called out, surprised at the gall of this asshole.

“Oh I think you will cooperate,” the man shouted out with an oddly placed confidence. “You see we have two of your men right here with us and if you want them back you’ll put down your guns and give up peacefully.”

“Fuck,” I said in little more than a whisper while trying to remember who was last on patrol.

“I’ll give you to the count of ten before I put a hole in this retard’s head.”

And there it went ... the last chance for a bloodless end to this feud just evaporated with that very sentence.

I suddenly felt anxious and even a little sad. Not for my men, but for theirs. For I watched Jimmy slink off into the bushes and the look on his face told me he was absolutely pissed. Jimmy is a mean, unrelenting fighter at the best of times but he is downright savage when riled up and nothing makes him madder than Benny getting threatened.

These rustlers were about to learn that the hard way.

As I come back to my senses, the sounds of sensual moaning and groaning have filled the air. It takes a second but I soon realize that a bunch of people are having a great time, going at it and fucking each other’s brains out. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet but I can just tell.

I want to keep my eyes closes as long as possible, fearful that this new reality might just be a dream and by doing so, I’ll end it early and be forced back on to that demonic stage.

Oh, that would suck.

Being this close to people in pleasure feels good and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way. I’ve been dealing with nothing but shit jobs, family tension and agonizing stress for months now, maybe even years depending how you look at it. So if it takes a sweet dream like this to give me some release, I will gladly play along with the fantasy.

“Fuck me hard cowboy!” I hear a lady call out.

“Give me your dick,” another one moans in delight.

I must be back at the whorehouse, I surmise, and am suddenly filled with welcomed relief. It all sounds so familiar, the panting, giggling, moaning ... oh the sweet sounds of sex. And if that’s the case then there is nowhere that does it better than Wichita’s fucking burlesque houses. If I’m back there then maybe that whole ungodly ordeal with demonic creatures was just a dream ... a nasty nightmare that is finally over.