Dusthaven Session 17
The Badlands
May17, 1875 10 pm
Steeling himself for what lay ahead, Cole took Nevah back out into the badlands. The mare whickered uneasily, unused to so much exertion in a day. No doubt she would much rather have enjoyed a trough of feed back in Cole’s barn, and he would have enjoyed that as well, but there was no time to waste if he wanted to stop Evelyn from resurrecting Hollister’s dark experiments.
The terrain was dark under a razor thin crescent moon, and eerily silent except for the howls of coyotes and the rustling of brush as small animals scurried away. The coyotes were just beyond his lantern’s meager light, lurking in the shadows, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. The wild animals seemed to be too scared by the lantern's light to attack, but Cole could still feel their presence.
Coyote Gulch:
Midnight
Around midnight, Cole could see the dark mouth of Coyote Gulch looming ahead. He was afraid his lantern would give him away in the dark, but he was also afraid to extinguish it due to the continued presence of the coyotes slinking just outside of its glow. Moving as silently as he could, he entered the canyon mouth, not knowing what else might lurk within.
As Cole passed a large rock, he heard a scrabbling sound, and turned around just in time to see a ragged figure bearing down on him with a long, feathered spear. The figure let out a loud shriek and attempted to stab him with the spear, resolving itself into the shape of an old man in threadbare robes, with a feathered headdress and painted face. He appeared disheveled and malnourished, attacking with an unearthly ululating wail.
The man’s advanced age, however, seemed to hinder his ability to actually use the spear, and it whistled by Cole’s head. Cole drew his pistol and said “Drop it.” The old man backed off, but did not let go of his spear.
"Beware, for you tread upon sacred land where the spirits of our ancestors roam,” the old man intoned. “They guard this place and do not take kindly to those who come with ill intentions. Should you stay, you will face the wrath of the ancient spirits, who can bring illness, misfortune, and visions that will haunt your dreams forever. Leave now, or risk the curse that will follow you wherever you go."
His voice sent a shiver up Cole’s spine, but he did not feel inclined to drop the pistol.
“Hey, you,” another voice shouted. Both Cole and the old man looked to see two more of the Pinkerton agents that seemed to work for Evelyn drawing a bead on them. “Freeze!”
Cole was still deciding whether to comply or not when he heard a rumbling sound come, not from the old man or the agents, but from deep within the mine. A mass of what looked like black fog emerged from the mine shaft, with a banshee wail that put even the old man to shame. The old Indian’s jaw dropped, a look of absolute terror on his face.
“Chindi!” He cried, and hitching up his robe, sprinted for the hills for all he was worth. The spirit took on a more physical form, like a desert mummy in Indian clothes, eyes glowing red like embers.
“Holy shit,” the Pinkertons cried, running back toward the area of the old smelting plant as those burning eyes fixed on Cole.
"Bi'ndah-Li'ghi'" the spirit rumbled. He couldn’t understand its language, but somehow he still knew what it said. “White Eyes.” It reached toward Cole, and he felt its black fingers seem to close around his brain, despite the distance between them. Absolute terror gripped Cole’s soul, and he fled back into the canyon and toward Nevah.
The horrible vision floated after him, still muttering in a language he couldn’t comprehend. He could feel its spiritual hands trying to close around his throat, even at a distance. Vaguely, he wondered if this was what the old man was warning him about. Dropping his lantern in the hopes that it might confuse the evil spirit, Cole continued to run.
A loud shout and the sound of scrabbling rocks came from nearby, causing the spirit to jerk its head toward the sound, and apparently lose track of Cole as he felt the black fingers recede from his mind. He didn’t stop running. He couldn’t see the devil behind him any more, but that didn’t reassure him.
Somewhere behind him, one of the Pinkerton agents cried out, and he could hear the other one hastily reciting “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters… Oh Jesus!” Cole didn’t stop to try to help - he knew there was little he could do to that thing.
Further away, other voices raised, and the sound of a gunshot was heard. But Cole had now reached Nevah - perhaps he could get away before the evil spirit came after him again. Approaching hoofbeats convinced him not to leave as Kane, Owley, and several other settlers rode up. The group looked pale and nervous, and Cole could tell the canyon they had just entered was an ill omen. What he could not tell, however, was whether Kane and Owley were still arguing or just looked peaked.
“Be careful,” Cole warned them. “There’s a crazy old Indian with a spear, at least a couple of those Pinkerton fellows, and some Indian devil thing that came out of the mine. And Evelyn’s out there somewhere. Folk say the Fairfaxes deal with all the dark powers.” He expected them to think he was crazy, but instead Owley clapped him on the shoulder.
“That’s why we brought along backup,” he indicated one of the riders with him, and Cole saw for the first time that it was a dark-haired sixteen year old girl. He’d seen her before, at the mass funeral. Lily, the blacksmith’s daughter. People then had called her a witch. As bad as it was to say, he hoped that they were right, because if not they were going to feed her to that thing from the mines.
Lily just observed everything, her face blank. She didn’t speak even though several of the other settlers with them fired off flirtatious remarks at her. She seemed used to this, perhaps even a bit tired of it. Cole heard an angry snort, and saw that her father, Gus the town blacksmith, had also accompanied the group.
“Let’s just put an end to this nonsense,” Gus growled, stomping angrily through the canyon. “You all better leave her alone unless you want to answer to me.” Kane caught up with him.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“Yeah, just like that show woman I bet.” Gus grumbled. “How’d that turn out, hey?”
“I’ll see that Fairfax woman rotting in jail by the time the sun comes up for what she’s done,” said Kane.
Confidence bolstered by these companions, Cole followed them back into the canyon. Up ahead, they heard a scream, and a gunshot, followed by the Indian spirit’s ululating wail. Two of the Pinkerton men seemed to be fighting it, and not having much luck.
One of the men shot it, but the bullet passed through its body like mist. The other, who had fallen on the ground, tried to stab the demon with a Bowie knife but this too passed through it like smoke.
A third man came out of the old smelting plant, and stopped short at the sight before him. “Saints preserve us,” he shouted, crossing himself.
"Bi'ndah-Li'ghi'" the spirit said again, reaching directly into the chest of the man on the ground, who screamed as though he were being flayed with a thousand fishhooks. The spirit gave a yank, and came away with the man’s still beating heart in its hand before casting it away with a noise of disgust.
That was all that the settlers needed to see. “The Devil,” one man cried. “It’s the Devil.” With inarticulate cries of fright, they turned and fled the canyon, leaving Kane, Owley, Cole, Lily and Gus to face the wicked spirit’s wrath. The Pinkerton agents also fled in the opposite direction.
In the dark, there was no way to see what had upset the settlers and Pinkerton agents. Lily stopped at the edge of the lantern light, futilely scanning the darkness for some sign of what had upset the others. “What do they see,” cried Owley. Kane, apparently better able to make out the shapes in the dark, paled and his lips parted in amazement.
Colde didn’t need to see the spirit again; he’d seen it closely enough before. He steeled himself to the thought of fighting it again, but he knew it would not be easy. He could feel its palpable malice approaching like a cold wind. Suddenly one of the settlers screamed and clutched his head. Gus caught sight of the spirit, cursed, and opened fire with a shotgun blast. But now the others knew where to look, and when they looked, as one they turned and ran.
The horrible spirit gave up all pretense at stealth, and glided forward, laughing. The air, already heavy with the smell of woodsmoke and wet earth, felt as if it had been knocked back, or pushed into a corner. A gasp escaped the assembled adventurers. Lily, the self-proclaimed witch, even she, paled
. In a terrified and shaking voice, she spoke in a language that Cole did not understand, raising her hands before her in a complex gesture. A series of geometric shapes, apparently scribed in fire, appeared in the air her, and then coalesced into a single, bright orange bolt of flame that shot unerringly toward the creature.
Now it was the evil spirit’s turn to flee, but before it could do more than widen its eyes in surprise it was inundated in bright orange witchfire that burned its ethereal flesh like paper. The settlers and the Pinkertons weren’t any more reassured though - they continued their flight into the badlands in earnest.
Recovering his wits, Kane walked past her, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and headed toward the dark hulk of the abandoned factory. Cole followed after him, not feeling any less nervous about their prospects. Gus also stomped forward, trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact he had been terrified by the evil spirit. Lily hung back for a minute.
“This place,” she said. “It feels rotten. This whole valley.” Her eyes blank, she continued “It treated them good. Gave them the gold and silver they wanted. But they just took, and took, and took and never said thank you. And it became bitter, and twisted. All of this is wrong.” She shook her head, and then followed her father silently.
“Don’t move!” Four Pinkerton agents stood on the stairs of the old factory. They obviously had more courage than their fellows though they looked as if they couldn’t tell if the people before them were alive or ghosts.
Kane was obviously not impressed. “Go to blazes,” he snarled. The Pinkerton agents didn’t move. Cole stepped forward, glowering at them.
“You saw what we did to that demon, didn’t you?” He waved his hand toward the direction they had come from. “Do you fellows want to see what we’ll do to you?”
Those four Pinkertons decided that the whole thing was entirely too peculiar for them. “This spook house ain’t worth flying lead,” the lead agent put away his gun, and walked away, taking his three fellows with him. The Pinkertons left as fast as they could. But the entrance was still blocked by rubble, so the plant seemed even more difficult to enter than before.
“We need somebody smaller to go in, and tell us what’s what,” said Kane, looking toward Lily. Gus started to object but before he had gotten even a word in, Lily had already clambered into the dark, twisted wreckage of the plant. She hadn’t been gone very long when there was a loud report and they heard her yelp in pain.
Kane ran into the wreckage with all his might, and Cole gave chase, but his momentum quickly died as he found himself entangled in a pile of broken parts. More Pinkerton agents told them to surrender, but Kane ignored them. Cole could hear footsteps making their way through the dark factory. It wasn't long before he also heard the twang of at least one of the trip wires he and Zeke had encountered previously, followed by the sounds of more collapse from above.
From somewhere within the dark, mysterious wreckage before him, Cole heard a voice. At first, it was nothing more than a distant whisper, but then it grew sweeter and stronger until it was like honey in his ears. At the same time, a beautiful light shone through the darkness, beckoning him toward its source. “Come out, neophyte,” the voice said. “Let us see you.”
The woman who emerged from the debris was every bit as exquisite as he imagined. Her beauty radiated to every corner of the warehouse and was as entrancing as the siren’s song that first led Odysseus off course. Cole wondered how the woman was able to appear in this dilapidated and broken down place. She wore a black cloak that flowed like water and glinted in the dim lantern light that was illuminating their area. She also wore ornate silver jewelry that glistened at every subtle movement.
Another woman, dressed similarly, came around the furnace, and beckoned to Kane. “Don’t be shy, handsome. Why don’t you come on in here?” Unlike Lily, Kane didn’t move and only frowned at her. A third woman entered the factory floor, along with several Pinkerton agents.
You can have all of us," the third woman purred. Kane seemed to be considering it, until Gus, hearing Lily's scream, roared and tried to push through the rubble on raw strength alone, though he didn't get very far. Lily walked through the rubble, looking enraptured by the women's beauty and power.
"Come into the light, child, so I can look upon you."
Evelyn Fairfax swept into the room, several large, leather-bound journals tucked under one arm. Lily seemed slightly bewildered by Evelyn's direct approach but she did not resist when the Pinkerton men shoved her forward. One of the Pinkertons noticed Cole trying to push through the rubble and shot him in the leg. Another demanded for Cole to drop his gun,
Cole didn’t feel he had a choice and dropped his iron at the man’s feet. Another one tried to shoot Kane but the bounty hunter dodged away. One of the Pinkertons stepped on a pressure plate by the furnace and a bolt of fire shot out. It missed the Pinkerton agent, but he reflexively shot the furnace instead.
“Reject me, will you?” The woman who was beckoning Kane twisted her face into a mask of cruel hate , and she hissed something Cole didn’t understand - making a gesture he recognized from when Lily had done it. An orb of orange witchfire stuck Kane in the chest, but his leather vest seemed to absorb it.
The witch who had been beckoning to Lily also began to chant, and suddenly the rubble around Cole and Kane came alive and swallowed them. Cole was stuck tight, but Kane had an arm still free. The third witch came forward, beckoning to Lily to join them.
Angrily, Gus finally pushed his way through the rubble. Lily heard him yelling and seemed to snap out of the trance she was in.
Lily began to chant, and cast not one but three bolts of fire at Evelyn and the witches beckoning her and Kane. One witch was struck directly in the face, going up in flames not unlike the evil spirit had done. The other two batted them away, hissing like snakes. Owley managed to push his way through the rubble, firing his gun wildly, but hit nothing.
Lady Evelyn intoned a spell, invoking more witchfire of her own. Gus charged forward, straight into an oncoming bolt and Owley was also hit but again Kane seemed made of sterner stuff, walking through unscathed and firing a shot at Evelyn. Whatever magical protection she enjoyed seemed to make the bullet ineffectual as well, but the bullet distracted her enough that Cole could pull himself out of the rubble.
He tried to stab the nearest Pinkerton man with his Bowie knife, but the man avoided his blade, and the rest of them trained their guns on him again, making any further gesture futile. Other Pinkertons converged on Kane and Lily, ordering their surrender.
With the three prisoners firmly tied up, the Pinkertons brought them to the front of the room, where the prisoners were confronted by a smirking Evelyn. "Bridgewater," she said. "You just keep popping up where you’re not wanted, don't you?"
"I'm like a rat that way," said Cole. She favored him with a sick smile.
"Yes, you seem exceedingly lucky. But I think your luck just ran out. " Turning to the head Pinkerton agent, she said, "Blindfold him, take him to the Badlands, and bury him alive. Maybe put some scorpions in there with him. Let's see him get out of that."
The Pinkertons did as bidden, leaving Cole bound, gagged and blindfolded in a shallow grave beneath the desert sands. Even before the men left, Cole could hear the slinking coyotes howling nearby. Worse than that, he knew it would not be long until the sun came up and his impromptu tomb became as hot as the inside of the Devil’s bake oven. And he could only imagine what forms of revenge Evelyn was taking on Kane and Lily while this was going on.