“IS THERE ANY MORE CHICKEN?” MacLemore asked.
Chino dug through the bag of provisions Pearl Lower had packed for them. He found carrots, celery, and snap peas, but no more chicken. “Want a carrot?”
“I guess.”
“Give me one, too,” Henry said.
Before long, all five of them were munching carrots, and Lu had begun to eye the snap peas as well. He wasn’t really hungry, but he wasn’t tired either. Mostly he felt agitated. Thoughts buzzed through his mind like yellow-jackets in a paper nest. If it’d been light, Lu might have run around or tried to climb a tree. As it was, he had nothing to occupy him but his thoughts, and they were a frightening lot.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do with my share of the gold,” Sadie said at last, tossing the bushy remains of her carrot to the horses. Lucky pounced on it like a dog on a bone. “Rent a stateroom on the first ship out of San Pablo.”
“What for?” Lu asked her.
“Why, to see the world of course. What’ll you do with your share, Daddy?”
“I owe a good bit to your uncle. I suppose I’ll have to pay that off. And I aim to keep my pledge to Mrs. Moss. After that, I guess I’ll just settle down somewhere, live high on the hog.”
This was just the sort of talk a nervous band of adventurers liked best. They went all around the circle, discussing how they’d spend their money, just as though the Yankee was already defeated and the gold in sacks on the way to the bank. Chino had the most vivid ideas. In addition to life in a fancy hotel, Chino thought he might like to start an overland stage company. His idea was to hire a teamster to drive the horses, but to ride shotgun himself, just so he could give his six-shooters a “work-out” on occasion. Sadie thought she’d like to see Africa. She wanted to shoot a lion. Lu suggested she might like to practice by shooting a bear, right here in America, but she said that was just “fool talk.” The one animal she said she’d never shoot, however, was a giraffe. She had a passion for giraffes. Henry hadn’t fully decided how he’d spend his share, though he planned to build a church, complete with hand-carved pews, for some former slaves that’d come out to the Pacific coast after the war. He thought that if they had a decent church, more folks would want to come. Henry figured they could build a nice little town in no time.
When it was his turn to speak, Lu discovered that he hadn’t the foggiest notion as to how his share of the gold ought to be spent. He might like to live in a hotel for a while, he supposed, but thought that might get awfully stuffy before long. Seeing the world would be nice, and Sadie did speak eloquently about giraffes, but Lu wondered if wandering around all the time wouldn’t get lonely. And of course, there were any number of ways he might help the folks back in St. Frances, but nothing that set his imagination ablaze.
“I guess I’ll just give the gold to my grandfather,” he said at last. “He’ll know what to do.”
Sadie stared at him, as did her father. Chino burst out laughing.
“That’s the worst plan I ever heard of,” he said. “Your grandfather will spend the whole thing on potions and scrolls.”
“No he won’t,” Lu said. “My grandfather is a wise man.”
“Isn’t there anything you’d like for yourself?” Henry asked. “A new pistol maybe?”
Lu looked down at his old brass revolver and shrugged. If he were honest, he’d have to say that he had just about everything he wanted now. Never in his life had he been so happy. While traveling with Henry, Chino, Sadie, and Mr. MacLemore, Lu had done things and met people he never thought he would. It was just like living one of his favorite story-books. And the things he’d learned? Why, he’d never have such a chance again. In fact, Lu had only one wish, and that was to keep the adventure going for as long as possible. But he didn’t think that was the sort of thing he ought to say out loud.
“I wonder what Jack will do with his share,” he said instead.
“I wonder if he’ll ever show up to claim it,” MacLemore muttered.
“Jack will show up eventually,” Henry said. “He always does.”
There was a lull in the conversation after that. Lu took another carrot, and was just about to pull the stem off, when he noticed that the trees around them were beginning to sway.
A stiff breeze had picked up while they talked. It hadn’t reached far enough into the gorge to muss their hair yet, but the trees felt it. Branches were knocking back and forth, especially high up on the yellow and ponderosa pines. The summer-dry needles made a rustling sound, like a man walking through a meadow of tall grass.
“It’s getting windy,” Lu observed, pointing up at the swaying giants.
“A storm is comin’,” Chino said. “There are clouds in front of the moon.”
Moments later, they felt the first gust of arctic wind come whistling through the forest. It was strong enough to send Henry’s hat tumbling down the road. Chino’s might have gone as well, but he grabbed it by the crown and held on.
The horses pawed nervously as the wind picked up. Thick clouds descended over the gorge. In no time, what had been a starry night turned to pitchy dark. Lu could barely see his friends’ faces, even though they were huddled close around him. Sadie, who sat on his left, grabbed Lu’s hand and squeezed.
“Think it’ll rain?” Henry had to shout to be heard over the howling wind.
Lu shivered. The ferocity of the mounting tempest reminded him of another storm, in another canyon, not so long ago. And of a whole line of mules falling to their deaths in a blast of rock and fire.
“Maybe we ought to find shelter,” he suggested.
“Don’t worry,” Henry said. “This will blow over in no time.”
But he was wrong. For more than an hour they sat, heads lowered, as gusts of icy wind blasted up the backs of their shirts. Lu was shivering cold. They all were. Henry would’ve built a fire, and stealth be damned, except that there was no hope whatever of striking a match.
“What’s that sound?” MacLemore asked, cocking his ear to the wind.
Lu listened, but heard only the trees, moaning as they fought to maintain their toeholds in the sandy earth.
“Sounds like music,” MacLemore continued. “Don’t any of you hear it?”
This time, Lu thought he did. It was a strange tune, high-pitched and sort of warbling. Under other circumstances he might’ve taken it for a bird. But no bird was fool enough to come out in weather like this.
“It’s a flute,” Henry said at last. “No, a fife. Camp boys played them during the war.”
“It’s Yankee Doodle,” MacLemore said. “That’s what it is. Yankee Doodle.” He sang, “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy, Yankee Doodle do or die. A real live nephew of my Uncle Sam, born on the Fourth of July. … Don’t you hear it?”
“I guess it sounds a little bit like Yankee Doodle,” Sadie said. “But not really.”
“What does it sound like to you?” Henry asked her.
“I don’t know, exactly. It’s familiar though.”
Lu thought so, too. To him, it sounded just like a song his mother used to sing, whenever she thought no one was paying attention. It was an old farmers’ song, one Master K’ung had taught her when she was just a little girl in China. As he listened, Lu became convinced.
“It’s a Chinese song,” he said.
“Nope, Spanish,” Chino corrected him.
“You’re both wrong,” Henry said. “It’s an old slave hymn. We used to sing it while picking cotton in the fields.”
“You’re all crazy,” MacLemore said. “It’s Yankee Doodle, clear as water.”
Their debate was ended by a sudden blast of wind, the strongest they’d felt thus far. Lu crossed his arms over his chest. He’d never heard of anyone’s shirt getting torn off by a storm, but he wasn’t taking any chances. That was soon the least of his worries, however, as one of the big trees perched at the edge of the river cracked. Even from forty feet back, Lu and his friends were drenched by spray as the whole upper third of the trunk splashed into the river.
“Let’s move!” MacLemore shouted.
They needed no further encouragement. Lu crawled on hands and knees toward where he’d left his saddle. He had a hard time locating it. Ever more clouds settled in front of the moon, blanketing the gorge in shadow. It was so dark that Lu and Sadie knocked heads.
Saddle in hand, Lu stumbled toward the sound of the pawing, whinnying horses. He bumped into people, animals, and bushes, as he searched for his lost mount. And still the darkness seemed to thicken. Before long, Lu could no longer even see the outlines of the surrounding trees, giants though they were, to say nothing of his friends. He despaired of ever finding the right horse. In the end, Crash found him, grabbing a hold of Lu’s shirt sleeve with his teeth.
It took only a minute for Lu to have his horse saddled and ready to go. He cinched the girth down tight, though he had no way of knowing whether the saddle was on straight. It hardly mattered, as they couldn’t possibly ride in such impenetrable darkness anyway.
They walked their animals north as best they could reckon it, without sight of stars or river to guide them. Henry tried his hardest to find the road, calling out every few seconds to make sure no one got left behind.
And still the night grew darker.
About ten minutes into their hike, Henry gave a shout. “I think I see a light!”
“Where?” MacLemore called back. “I can’t see anything.”
“It’s right there in front of us.” Henry’s voice sounded remarkably far off now. “Just keep coming.”
Lu hurried to catch up, but still saw no light of any kind.
“Henry!” Sadie shouted. “Henry, slow down!”
But there was no answer.
“Well, I’d call that irresponsible!” MacLemore shouted. “Did anyone see where he went? Chino?”
Again, they got no response.
“Damn!” MacLemore cursed. “Now we’ve lost him, too. We have to try to stick together.”
“Where are you, Daddy?” Sadie sounded close to panic.
“I’ll just stand still. You two come toward the sound of my voice.”
“But where’s Lu?”
“I’m here!” he shouted. “I’m coming! Keep talking so I can hear you.”
“Sadie!” MacLemore called. “Sadie!”
Lu froze. This time, MacLemore’s voice seemed to be coming from directly behind him.
“Where are you?” Lu screamed.
“Daddy!” Sadie sounded like she was about a thousand miles ahead, her voice reaching back to him only because it was being carried on the wind.
“Sadie?” Lu called after her. “Mister MacLemore? Wait for me!”
The wind howled, the trees crackled and moaned, but no human voice penetrated the inky black.
Lu called and called, but there was no answer. At last he gave up. Lu was all alone.
It was the Hell Mouth all over again. Lu felt as though he wanted to cry. But instead, he pressed his face into Crash’s neck. “You’ll stick with me. Won’t you, boy?”
Crash shook out his mane. Lu took that as a “yes.”
“Well, I guess we ought to keep moving. Do you know which way?”
Crash took a cautious step forward and stopped.
“Me neither.” Lu grabbed on to Crash’s lead, just an inch or two below his chin. “I think I last heard Sadie from this direction.” They began to walk.
At first, the going was surprisingly good. We must be on the road, Lu thought. But it didn’t last. They’d only been walking for about fifteen minutes when Lu wandered directly into a wall of thorns. If he hadn’t had his arm stretched out in front of him, he might’ve stumbled right into the middle of it. That would have been a nightmare. It was hard enough just getting the barbs to let go of his shirt sleeve.
Clearly, this wasn’t the way to go. So Lu made a right turn. He felt no thorn bushes that way, and took one cautious step.
It was a good thing he hadn’t stepped boldly. His stomach lurched into his mouth as his foot descended through open air. If he hadn’t had a good grip on Crash, he’d have fallen for sure.
Somehow, Lu had wandered to the edge of a precipice. In all likelihood, the river was directly below him, though how far below he couldn’t guess. Fortunately, that was one question Lu would never have to answer. At the last minute, Crash managed to drag him back from the edge.
“That was close,” Lu said, patting his horse on the muzzle. “But at least now we know where we are.”
Lu made another right turn, exactly ninety degrees from the direction he’d been facing a moment before, and reached out with his foot. Horribly, he felt the same sickening drop.
“Where should we go?” he asked Crash.
The horse started off in a direction exactly opposite of the way in which Lu thought they ought to be traveling. He didn’t complain however, as Crash did manage to avoid falling in the river or striding into the teeth of a briar patch, a feat Lu might not have accomplished if he’d tried all night.
After an hour of further wandering, during which they neither saw nor heard any sign of their missing friends, Lu decided that there was no point in going on. If some old snag wanted to break off in the storm and kill them, so be it. But he wouldn’t go searching for it. The snag would darn well have to come to them.
As they stood, shivering and wishing for morning, Lu began to wonder about the darkness that surrounded them. There was something not quite right about it. For one thing, it didn’t feel entirely real. Lu had been in his grandfather’s basement with the lamps turned off at least a dozen times, and still there’d always been a ghost of light that managed to filter down the stairs. It wasn’t enough to see by, maybe, but it was there. Now, here he was outside and the blackness was so complete as to give him the impression of having had his head wrapped up in a burlap sack. It was too much. Even with clouds obscuring the moon and stars, he ought not to feel as though black paint had been slathered over his eyeballs. And that’s exactly what he did feel like. Lu rubbed his eyes, but the sensation wouldn’t go away. And then he thought about the ghost-riders, passing by over the Lowers’ house, and wondered if this darkness couldn’t be the result of sorcery.
Lu reached for his saddlebags. He wanted to strike a flame, just for a second, to test his suspicions. But no matter how he dug, he couldn’t find a match. And with all that wind, he wasn’t entirely sure that there would even be a spark anyway. Then another idea struck him. He could fire his pistol. The muzzle-flash ought to be visible enough.
Lu grabbed his gun, and was about to thumb back the hammer, when he saw something glimmering through the trees. It was bright red, and looked for all the world like a camp-fire. Relieved, Lu jammed his gun back into his holster. He couldn’t see how anyone might possibly build a fire in this hurricane, but didn’t much care. Henry had mentioned seeing a light just before he’d disappeared, Lu remembered. This must have been what he’d meant.
Tree limbs clawed and scratched at his arms and face as Lu dragged Crash toward the flickering light. He felt certain that his friends would be there, waiting for him. So certain, in fact, that Lu didn’t even bother looking at the figure crouched over the fire before bulling his way through a last bit of brush and into the clearing.
“I found you!” Lu said, joyously.
But none of his friends were there. Only one person was sitting by the fire, and he looked less than thrilled at being so rudely interrupted. Lu found himself staring down the barrel of a six-shooter, and the finger on the trigger belonged to a man he’d never seen before.
“Who in the hell are you?” the man asked.
He cut a dashing figure. A shock of blond hair poked out from under what looked to be a brand new Stetson, black to match his high-heeled riding boots and crisscrossing gun-belts. Round his neck was a kerchief, clean and blue as a winter’s sky. His cheeks, recently shaven, were like polished alabaster.
“I’m sorry,” Lu stammered. “I thought you were somebody else.”
The man lowered his pistol a hair, training it on Lu’s chest rather than his forehead. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Lu.”
“Lu what?”
“Tzu-lu.”
“And just who were you looking for out here, Tzu-lu?”
“I lost my friends. We got separated in the storm.”
“More Chinks?” He squinted, obviously searching for any sign of a lie.
Lu shook his head. “I’m the only one.”
The man lowered his gun another inch. “You out here after the MacLemore gold?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Figures.” He gestured for Lu to sit down across from him.
A boulder, easily as large as Master K’ung’s store, formed a natural barrier on their northern side, breaking the wind enough to allow for the small fire. Even so, the flames were having a hard time sticking to the bits of log and kindling.
“My name’s Phillip,” the man continued. “But you can call me Phil.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Lu said, and shuddered.
There was a sort of ruthlessness in Phil’s gaze, and in the set of his jaw, that froze Lu clear to the soul. In a way, Phil reminded Lu of Jack Straw, only much colder. With Jack, the ruthlessness was tempered by a streak of justice. If there was anything decent in Phil, Lu hadn’t yet seen it.
“Who are you with?” Phil asked him.
“There are five of us,” Lu said. “Henry, Chino, John, Sadie and me.”
“Sadie? A girl? Well now, that’s a new one. How long you been on the trail?”
“Months. We started in St. Frances.”
“Is that right? Didn’t think anyone had heard of the MacLemores as far away as that. You hear all the legends?”
“Some of them.”
“So, did you bring any Americans to help you kill that old Yankee devil?”
Lu shook his head. “We never heard about that ‘til we got to Silver City.”
“Who told you?”
“J.D. Lower.”
“The Irish blacksmith?” Phil smirked. “It’ll serve him right when Mayor Strong finally hangs him. Some folks don’t know when to mind their own business.”
“He was nice to us,” Lu said.
“I’ll bet he was. Just like him to befriend a Chink. Who else you got with you? No wait, let me guess. You got a nigger, and a Mexican and … a Jew.”
“Southerner,” Lu corrected him.
“A Reb? Hell, boy. You might as well have given up on this treasure back in Silver City. You haven’t got one decent American amongst you.”
“We … we don’t believe in that legend,” Lu said.
“You’d best start. ‘Cause there ain’t nobody to roust that old devil but a genuine American. Hear me? And that’s going to be yours truly.”
Lu nodded.
“Still, you’ve come a long way. So I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do.” As he talked, Phil brought his pistol up so that it pointed at Lu’s face again. “I need someone to help me carry my gold. You agree to join up and I’ll give you five percent.”
“Now you’ve got a new contract. Hear? And you’d best hold to it.”
“But my other contract was going to pay me a full share.”
“Now you’ll get five percent. But cheer up, that’s five percent more than you’d have got riding with them mongrels. Speakin’ o’ which, it’s time we got movin’.”
“Right now?”
“Don’t want your old pards beatin’ us to the house, do we? No reason to rile that old Yank ‘til we’re ready to plug ‘im.” Phil gestured at Lu with his pistol. “Go on, get ready to ride.”
Lu checked Crash’s saddle while Phil fetched his own horse. It was an American quarter-horse, a lot like Sadie’s old mare Cinnamon, but even bigger.
“You take the lead,” Phil said, pistol still trained on Lu. “What about the storm?”
“I guess it’s just about blowed out.”
Lu looked around and saw that he was right. A few of the bigger trees were still swaying, but the gusts they’d had earlier were more or less gone. Even the dark clouds were clearing.
“Which way?” Lu asked.
“Head ‘round this here boulder. You’ll see the road soon enough. After that it’s just a short ride to the house.”
“You’ve seen it?”
Phil scoffed. “Only a fool would ride in without scoutin’ first.”
“What about the mine? Have you seen that?”
“Mine? Pshaw. We’re after easy money, boy. I don’t aim to do no work. Not more ‘n what I can do with my shootin’ irons anyway. Now git.”
Lu did as he was told. As they passed around the boulder he had half a mind to give Crash a kick, and trust him to outrun Phil’s oversize quarter-horse amongst the trees. But Lu felt certain that Phil would shoot him in the back if he did.
They found the road easily enough, and Lu turned what he thought was north. He must have been right because Phil let him go. For the next hour they rode in total silence.
Eventually Phil must’ve gotten bored, because all at once he rode up alongside Lu and began asking him questions.
“Tell me ‘bout this girl you’re ridin’ with,” he began.
“Sadie?”
“Naw. T’other one.”
“But there’s only just the one,” Lu said.
“Then tell me about her. Jeeminy you’re dense.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What’s she look like?”
Lu gave a full description, beginning with Sadie’s dress habits and ending with her tendency to furrow her brow when she was angry, all the while downplaying what he considered her best attributes. The last thing he wanted was for Phil to decide they ought to try to find her.
“Don’t sound like much to me,” Phil said. “You ever seen her naked?”
Lu shook his head.
“You’d like to though. Am I right?”
“No!”
“Sure you would.” Phil guffawed. “Tell you what. Soon as we’re finished with this here Yankee, we’ll see if we can’t find your girl. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be so impressed with your five percent that she’ll just strip naked for you on the spot.”
“Don’t talk about her that way,” Lu said.
Phil grinned. “What’ll you get with your share of the gold?” he asked.
The question reminded Lu of the last conversation he’d had with his friends. Back then it’d seemed like innocent fun, speculating as to how they might spend their money. Now it seemed dirty.
“You still want it, don’t you?” Phil asked.
“I guess.”
“Say you could have anything—anything in the whole world—what’d it be?”
Lu thought about it. He honestly didn’t know. One thing he knew for sure, though. He wanted nothing more to do with Phil. Suddenly, Lu felt certain that he’d heard that name somewhere else, and not so very long ago. “Phil. Phillip.” Had he heard it back in Silver City? At the saloon perhaps? The answer was right on the tip of his tongue. But he was darned if he could find a way to spit it out.
“What brought you all the way out here from St. Frances?” Phil asked him.
“My grandfather made me come.”
“Maybe you’d like to be free of your grandfather. Ever wish he was dead?”
“No!” Lu said. “I love my grandfather. I would like to be free, though. Just to do whatever I want. Go wherever I want to go. Be whoever I want to be.” Then the answer hit him. “I guess what I want most is … I want to be an American.”
Phil laughed so hard that Lu thought he might fall off his horse. “Now that’s one thing you’ll never be,” he said at last. “Never in a million years. It’s a good wish though. After all, if you was an American, you wouldn’t need me.”
“I don’t need you,” Lu muttered under his breath.
“How’s that?” Phil asked.
“I said, I guess five percent isn’t so bad.”
“That’s the spirit.” Phil gave him a hearty clap on the back. “Knew you’d come around. After all, who wouldn’t want five percent of the MacLemore gold?”
The house turned out to be everything Lu had envisioned. It was two stories, with tall dormer windows on the second floor, shutters painted forest green, a wrap-around porch, and a copper roof that glowed orange in the moonlight. There were even flowers in the garden, planted in neat orderly rows.
“Nice, ain’t it?” Phil said. “Got to hand it to the Yank. He sure kept the place up.”
“What’ll we do now?” Lu asked him.
“Y’know, I’ve been wondering that very thing.”
“And?”
“And I reckon you ought to just go right up and knock on the front door.”
Lu was shocked. “But he’ll kill me for sure.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right here. If he makes a move, bang.” Phil thrust his pistol toward Lu. “’Sides, you haven’t got a choice. If you don’t do it, I’ll kill you.”
“Can I take my gun out at least?” Lu asked.
“I think you’d best leave it set.” Phil grinned. “Some folks get nervous when they see a weapon. I’d hate to see you get shot on accident.”
“What’ll I do if no one answers?”
“You just go right on in. But don’t take too long. I’d hate to have to come in after you.” He gestured at Lu to get moving.
Seeing no way out, Lu gave Crash a swift kick, and started toward the house. It stood at the center of a mountain meadow, about a hundred yards from the nearest tree. No cover, he realized. Phil could shoot him any time he felt like it.
Lu was almost to the front porch when he got the urge to look behind him. Just as he’d figured, Phil was nowhere to be seen. Someone else had been along that way recently, however. Lu noticed hoof marks on the path. And there were boot prints on the front steps. Whoever made them had smallish feet.
After tying Crash’s lead to the porch rail, Lu started up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. He was just about to knock when he heard strange voices from within.
On impulse, Lu reached for his gun. He did so fully expecting to hear a pistol shot from the direction of the trees, followed by an explosion of pain, probably in the back. But nothing happened. If Phil was still watching, and Lu guessed that he must be, he’d decided to allow Lu to draw his gun after all.
Heart racing, Lu reached for the door. He was about to grab the knob, but decided it might really be better to knock. It was lucky he did. The second his knuckles struck the plywood, a gun began firing wildly from inside the cottage.
Shards of door speckled his face and hair as the bullets crashed past him, one of them flying so close he could feel the air sizzling as it spun past his ear.
Instinctively, Lu crouched down. As he did, he brought his own pistol up, cocking it with his thumb. He didn’t bother to aim, just pointed it at the door and fired.
Lu had no time to brace himself against the recoil, and so was thrown backward off the porch. The wind was knocked out of him by the ferocity of his landing, but he still managed to sit up and watch as the door to the cottage, now riddled with a half-dozen tiny holes, and one great enormous one, swung open.
Sadie stepped out, both arms shaking. The look on her face was pure horror. Her tiny revolver was still clutched in her fist, smoke pouring from the barrel. It took her only a moment to spot Lu, lying in the dirt at the bottom of the stairs. And when she did, her eyes went as wide as silver dollars.
Lu watched in mute terror as she raised her gun, aimed it at him for a moment, and then dropped it at her feet.
“My God!” she said. Lu could only just barely hear her over the ringing in his ears. “I nearly shot you. I thought you were … But then your bullet …” Sadie put a trembling hand over her mouth. “It is magic. It does tell the truth. I’m sorry, Lu, I—”
She was cut off mid-sentence by another volley of gunshots, this time being fired from somewhere behind the house.
“What’s happening?” Sadie asked, grabbing Lu by the hand and dragging him to his feet. “What’s going on?”
“It was all lies,” Lu tried to say. But he still hadn’t recovered from his fall, and so couldn’t do much more than mouth the words. And he didn’t have time to try again. He knew exactly what was happening, and who was on the other side of that house. If he was going to get there in time, he had to go now.
Wheezing, feeling as though a pair of enormous iron bands were fastened over his lungs, Lu started to run. Sadie chased after him as he raced around to the other side of the cottage. They passed not one, but two horses, tied to the front porch, though Lu barely paid them any mind. Nor did he look at the rotten and broken down porch railing, the weathered walls and peeling paint, or the grave stones set in their orderly rows—just as the flowers had seemed to be, only moments before. Lu had to hurry. He knew what was coming.
They bounded around the side of the cottage, arriving just in time to see Henry, sitting tall astride his military charger, galloping down a narrow pathway. His rifle was cocked and ready. Lu also saw Chino, crouched behind the walls of a broken-down old outhouse, a pistol in either fist. They were ready for each other, Lu understood. Prepared to gun each other into oblivion. Another moment and one of them, maybe both, would be blasted to bits. He could think of only one way to stop it. The sorcery had to be broken, the lies dispelled. He had to show his friends the truth.
Lu lifted his pistol once more, aiming at a spot directly between both men, and squeezed the trigger.
It all happened so fast that Lu didn’t even manage to straighten his elbow before the recoil took over. His pistol kicked straight backward, in spite of his hand being wrapped around the grip, and struck him square in the forehead.
The last thing Lu saw, as he lay face up on the barren field, was a flash of orange hell-fire, as of a shooting star lancing across the night sky.
“Ghost-riders,” he thought, as the demons disappeared over the mountains. “Phillip Traum.”
Then Lu closed his eyes, and knew nothing more until sunup.