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Zeke and Annette entered the alpine village close to dusk. Annette took the lead, urging her horse to a building that resembled an inn. Zeke sat up in his saddle, a smile forming under his thick scarf.
“You sure these folks will be friendly?” he asked.
“The Swiss usually are,” Annette answered. “Remember, you’re my husband. That way we’ll be less suspicious.”
Zeke shared a mischievous grin. “That won’t be easy to forget.”
Annette narrowed her eyes. “Husband in name only. You are spoken for.”
“I may be,” Zeke replied. “But I ain’t married.”
Annette smiled. “Behave yourself, Zeke. We are on a mission.”
Zeke could swear he noticed and extra sway in Annette walk as they entered the inn. A buxom woman with blond hair and deep brown eyes wiped the reception desk; she looked up at the two of them, unable to hide her surprise.
Bon jour, Madame,” Annette said. “My husband and I seek lodging. Do you have rooms available?”
“Yes, yes we do!” the woman replied in French. “Voltaire! We have guests!”
A thin man with receding black hair and round spectacles entered the room. He looked at the two and was just as shocked as the woman.
“Welcome to our humble inn!” He rushed over to them, hugging them like lost family.
“Excuse my exuberance,” the man said. “I am Voltaire Sabatini, and this is my lovely wife Brunhilda. It’s not often we receive guests from Africa. As a matter of fact, I think this is a first!”
Annette smiled. “We are not from Africa, Voltaire. My husband and I are from New Haiti.”
Voltaire clapped. “Even better. I have heard such wonderful things about New Haiti. Gave the French a black eye they did.”
“Volty, they didn’t come here to jaw with you,” Brunhilda scolded. “They came for a room. Get their bags.”
Voltaire frowned. “You’re much stronger than me. You should get them.”
“Voltaire!”
“Okay, okay!” Voltaire shuffled to their bags.
“This is the price you pay for marrying a beautiful woman,” he said. “You become a slave to her whims.”
Zeke looked at Brunhilda then held back a chuckle. The sprightly old man was about to pick up his bag but Zeke waved him away.
“I’ll carry this one,” he said.
“Of course, of course,” Voltaire replied. The man looked as if he could barely stand with Annette’s baggage alone.
“Come, I’ll take you to your room.”
“Give them our best!” Brunhilda called out.
“Of course my queen,” he called back. “Of course.”
Annette and Zeke followed Voltaire up stairs then down a narrow hallway to a room at the end of the hall. He placed the bags down at the door then rummaged through his pockets for the key.
“Ha! Here you are!”
Voltaire opened the door then took their luggage inside. The room was modest yet cozy with a large rice bed filling the center. The window opposite the door gave an excellent view of the nearby mountains.
“It’s lovely, no?” Voltaire asked.
“Very,” Annette replied.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said. “Dinner will be served at 5:00 pm. I think we’re having Wiener schnitzel tonight. Brunhilda is German. Her schnitzel is excellent!”
“I’m getting hungry just thinking about it!” Annette said.
Zeke went for his wallet but Voltaire waved him off.
“No tipping the owner!”
Voltaire skipped out of the room, leaving Annette and Zeke alone. Annette ambled to the window then took out Famara’s compass.
“It’s pointing to the mountains,” she said.
“I was afraid of that,” Zeke replied.
“We’ll need to hire guides to take us up.”
“We have enough gold,” Zeke said.
“Then we go up tomorrow. Now get out.”
Zeke looked dumbfounded. “What?”
‘I said get out,” Annette repeated. “I need to change.”
Zeke smirked. “I thought we were man and wife.”
Annette walked up to him, standing so close their noses almost touched.
“But we’re really not and I need my privacy.”
“It would have been easier just to get separate rooms,” Zeke complained.
“That would have been suspicious,” Annette replied. “An unmarried woman and man traveling together? That’s unheard of. Now go.”
Zeke shrugged then headed downstairs. He waved absently at Brunhilda as he went outside then lit his pipe. He was missing Farama’s company already. Traveling with Annette posed complications, the most being that he found her very attractive.
“What are you doing out here?”
Voltaire scampered up to him, wrapped in a heavy wool coat.
“It’s too cold even for me, and I was born and raised here.”
“It’s not so bad,” Zeke replied. “Besides, I needed some air.”
Voltaire’s eyebrows rose. “Ah! I think there is some friction between you and your wife, or maybe not enough friction?”
Zeke laughed. “You’re a funny man, Voltaire. No, things between me and Annette are just fine.”
“Except that she is not your wife,” Voltaire said.
Zeke gave Voltaire a sideways glance.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
“I am an old man, Zeke. Brunhilda and I have been married for twenty years. I know how married people are around each other. I can tell by the way you two are about each other. There is no comfort between you, no familiarity.”
“You got this one wrong,” Zeke replied.
“Then where is her ring?” Voltaire asked. Zeke grinned.
“It doesn’t matter to Brunhilda and me,” Voltaire said. “We are very discreet. It comes with running an inn. Sometimes two people find themselves attracted to each other, and sometimes that attraction is not...how will I say...convenient. But we are not here to judge. Our purpose is only to provide comfortable lodging.”
“Something tells me you have some experience in inconvenient relationships.”
Voltaire laughed. “I do. When I first met Brunhilda she was days away from making the worst mistake in her life. She was about to marry the village butcher. The butcher! Could you imagine a beautiful woman as Brunhilda living such a life?”
Zeke could imagine Brunhilda as many things, but beautiful wasn’t one of them.
“I was visiting her village with my wares. At the time I was a salesman of items from the exotic east. I saw her working in the fields and was immediately struck by her beauty. I had to make her mine!”
“I’m sure you did,” Zeke said.
“Now I’m a realistic man, Zeke. I am not easy on the eyes, and I wasn’t rich like I am now. But to Brunhilda I was a way out of her simple life.”
Zeke lowered his pipe. “So you two ran off together?”
“Yes,” Voltaire answered. “She did not love me at first, but as we traveled Europe together her heart finally gave in. We were married in a little chapel right outside of Venice. It was the happiest day of our lives.”
“Voltaire!” Brunhilda shouted from inside. “Are you bothering our guests? The two of you come inside. Dinner will be ready soon!”
Voltaire grinned like a love-struck boy.
“See? How can you not love such a woman?”
Zeke put out his pipe. “How could you not?”
Brunhilda laid out an impressive spread, the aromas teasing Zeke’s hunger. Annette made a late entrance dressed for dinner. Zeke held back an expletive, struck by her beauty.
“Lord give me strength,” he whispered.
Voltaire held no such reservations.
“My God! An angel has descended upon us!”
Annette replied with a demur smile. “Thank you, Voltaire.”
Brunhilda clapped. “A truly lovely vision! You are a lucky man, Zeke. Almost as lucky as my Voltaire.”
“I agree with both of you,” Zeke said.
They sat down to eat. Zeke wasn’t familiar with anything on the table but it didn’t matter. It was hot and it was there. Annette was more patient, complementing each dish as she tasted it. Brunhilda and Voltaire were enthralled by her. Zeke could see why Miss Tubman sought her out as an agent. She could charm sugar out of salt.
After dinner they retired to the parlor for tea and pastries. A huge fire roared in the fireplace, warming the quaint room nicely.
“I was admiring the mountains from our room,” Annette said.
“The Alps are lovely this time of year,” Brunhilda replied.
“I’d like to visit them tomorrow,” Annette replied. “It’s been years since I skied and I’ll like to dust off my skills.”
A serious look passed between Brunhilda and Voltaire that didn’t go unnoticed by Zeke.
“The mountains can be treacherous as well this time of year,” Voltaire replied. “There are many sites in our village that are just as beautiful.”
“But I had my heart set on the mountains,” Annette replied. “Surely there’s a guide in the village who can take us to a safe slope.”
“Oh dear!” Brunhilda exclaimed. “You better tell them, Voltaire. You’re such a bad liar.”
Voltaire cleared his throat. For the first time since their visit his face was serious as he gazed into the fire.
“The mountains are not safe,” he said, his voice distant. “They never were really. Accidents always happen and avalanches are a constant threat. One could get lost then freeze to death before being found. But these are dangers we are used to. They are dangers we grow up with. But the danger that lurks the mountains now is something like no one has seen.”
He turned slowly to look at Annette and Zeke. “There is something in the mountains now. Something that kills indiscriminately. It is not an animal, because it does not eat what it kills. Its bite is unlike anything any of the hunters have seen. So we don’t go into the mountains anymore, my friends. Neither should you.”
Zeke leaned back in his chair, looking at Annette with serious eyes. There was no reason to keep up the façade; Voltaire knew they weren’t married and Brunhilda would know soon. They would need someone’s help to navigate the mountain roads and trails and their only chance would come from telling the truth, or at least as much as they could. Annette nodded.
“Well, folks, looks like we have a dilemma. Me and Miss Annette need to go up into those mountains. We’ve been travelling a long time looking for something special to us and we’re pretty much certain it’s up there. So we’re going, with or without a guide.”
“But you can’t!” Brunhilda shrieked. “You’ll be killed!”
“Don’t worry about us, Miss Brunhilda. Me and Miss Annette can handle ourselves.” Zeke looked over to Voltaire.
“Now Voltaire, you know anybody crazy enough to lead us into those mountains?”
Voltaire looked back at Zeke with a stare that could punch a hole in a brick wall.
“Yes,” he answered. “I am.”
Brunhilda dropped her head into her hands then wailed. Zeke expected Voltaire to run to her side, but instead he remained in his seat, his eyes fixed on the fire. Annette went to her, hugging her close.
“You sure about this, Voltaire?” he asked.
“I’m sure, my friend. Deadly sure.” Voltaire placed his teacup down on the table then stood.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire for the evening. It’s been a long time since I’ve traveled into the mountains and I will need my rest. I know a man in the village that will supply us with everything we’ll need. Goodnight, everyone.”
Voltaire left the room. Brunhilda lifted her head, watching him walk away. She began crying again. Annette looked at Zeke, sympathy in her eyes.
“We’ll make him stay,” Zeke said.
Brunhilda shook her head hard. “He won’t stay. Nothing anyone could do would stop him short of killing him.”
“Why does he want to go?” Annette asked.
Brunhilda wiped away her tears with her napkin. She took a moment to compose herself before answering.
“My Voltaire has always doted on me, but there was another that he was just as close to; Stephan Gruber. Stephan and Voltaire were like brothers. When he wasn’t with me, he was with Stephan. But one day Stephan went into the mountains and never returned. Voltaire with after him...”
Brunhilda shuddered. “Voltaire went after him alone. When he was late returning I went into the village and the men formed a rescue team. They returned with my Voltaire. It was so terrifying. He was broken like a doll and bleeding everywhere. They also came back with Stephan’s body. The next day a group of hunters when into the mountains seeking whatever had done this. None of them returned. Since that day no one has gone into the mountains. But Voltaire wanted to. He tried to convince someone, anyone to go. But they refused. Now you have come and he will go again. Don’t let my Voltaire die, Zeke. Don’t let him die!”
Zeke knelt before Brunhilda then took her hand.
“Ma’am, I promise you I’ll do the best I can to bring Voltaire back alive. But you got to understand that he’s determined to do this. We can only protect him so far. It ain’t our intention to fight no type of creature. If we’re lucky the only animals we’ll have to deal with is the two-legged kind. But we’ll do the best we can. That’s all I can say.”
“Thank you both,” she said. “I get the feeling that whoever you are and whatever you do, you are good at it.”
Brunhilda stood, bowed, and then hurried away. Annette and Zeke looked at each other, Annette’s tight lips expressing her concern.
“Didn’t expect that,” Zeke said.
“I don’t think he should go,” Annette said. “He says he will guide us, but he might just lead us on a hunt for whatever that thing is in the mountains.”
“I’ll bet money that your German is behind all this, and whatever it is killing these poor folks is something out those damn books,” Zeke said.
“Whatever it is, we know what we must do,” Annette said. “We should retire as well. It will be long day.”
Annette began walking to the stairs. Zeke sat in his chair.
“You’re not coming,” she asked.
“No, I think I’ll bunk here on the couch,” he replied.
“Don’t be silly. Come upstairs.”
Zeke smiled. “I best not, Annette. Circumstances being as they are, I couldn’t guarantee I would behave in a gentlemanly manner tonight.”
Annette blushed. “Good night then.”
Zeke took one last sip of tea then left the parlor for the sitting room. The sofa was just long enough for his tall frame. He was taking off his boots when he heard someone approach. Annette entered the room with a blanket.
“I found this,” she said.
Zeke reached for the blanket and she grasped his hand. He pulled Annette into his lap and they kissed.
Zeke pulled away. “Annette, I don’t...”
She pressed her fingers on his lips. “It’s just a kiss. Don’t make too much of it. If we succeed in retrieving Famara’s book then we’ll continue this discussion.”
She kissed him again then stood.
“Goodnight, Annette,” Zeke said.
“You shouldn’t have promised we would bring Voltaire back,” she said abruptly.
“Pardon me?”
“You shouldn’t have promised Brunhilda Voltaire would return. This is a vital mission. If Voltaire possess too much of a problem we might have to...deal with him.”
Zeke glared at Annette. She was good without a doubt. He’d almost forgotten she was with them for a reason.
“This ain’t no mission to me,” he replied. “I’m here do to a job I was paid to do. I wasn’t paid to kill someone if they pose a problem. And like I told Brunhilda, I’ll do my best to make sure her husband comes back.”
Annette’s eyes narrowed. “That might put us at odds, Zeke Culpepper.”
“It just might, Annette Bijou” Zeke replied.
A smile slowly came back to Annette’s face. “I would hate that. I rather enjoyed our kiss.”
She sauntered away.
Zeke shook his head as he fell back onto the couch then pulled the blanket over him.
“I’ll be damned,” he said out loud. “Looks like I’m going to have to keep an eye on Miss Annette as well.”
He closed his eyes and tried to dream of Pauline.
Morning came too soon, entering the sitting room in lines of light through the curtain edges. Zeke stretched then threw the blanket aside. He rubbed his eyes then sat up, a little disoriented. The dream of Pauline and the farm had been a bit too vivid, so much that he thought he was back home. But as he looked around the realization of his location sank in as did the seriousness of his situation.
“Good morning, Zeke.”
Voltaire stood in the sitting room entrance, dressed for a trek in the mountain. The jovial countenance still not had returned to his face.
“Brunhilda is preparing breakfast for us,” Voltaire said. “Annette will be down soon. You must hurry. We will leave for the village as soon as we finish breakfast.”
Zeke put on his boots. “Brunhilda told us why you’re so anxious to go.”
Voltaire looked away. “It was not her place.”
“I’m glad she did,” Zeke answered. “If I’m going to risk my life with somebody I need to know why they’re risking theirs. And I got to tell you I’m not comfortable with your motives.”
Voltaire stepped toward Zeke. “That thing killed my best friend! That is my motivation!”
Zeke stood then placed his hands on his waist.
“What I need you to do is cool your heels,” Zeke replied. “You can’t take your emotions into things like this. It will make you do stupid things that will get you...or us...killed. I can’t get paid if I’m dead.”
Zeke strolled past Voltaire, heading for the dining room. Voltaire took up beside him.
“What do you suggest?” Voltaire asked.
“You’re the guide,” Zeke replied. “We have to depend on you to get us where we’re going. But when it comes to the dangerous stuff Annette and I are in charge. You do everything we say exactly the way we tell you. Otherwise I might have to put a bullet in your leg then send you home.”
Voltaire cut his eyes at Zeke. “Would you? Annette wouldn’t allow that!”
Zeke laughed. “Cause us some trouble and Annette is liable to put a bullet in your head.”
Voltaire’s expression did not change
“Come,” he said. “The women are waiting for us.”
Breakfast waited at the table. Brunhilda’s red eyes fell on Voltaire and a sob escaped her pursed lips. Annette studied him for a minute then shared a smile with Zeke.
“I see my companions are ready,” she said.
Voltaire said nothing. He kissed Brunhilda then sat before his breakfast. Zeke sat beside Annette.
“You didn’t come to my room last night,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know you were expecting me,” he replied.
“I wasn’t, but a woman can be hopeful.”
Zeke smirked. “I think it’s best to keep my distance. There’s a woman waiting for me at home and I want to make sure I get back to her.”
Annette chuckled. “I would never hurt you, Zeke.”
“No you wouldn’t, because I won’t let you,” Zeke replied.
Brunhilda sat at the table, her worried eyes lingering on Voltaire. They ate in silence, the clinking of silverware against glass the only sound. Brunhilda doted on Voltaire, refilling his plate when it was empty, pouring him for coffee when his cup was dry. It was a change of roles for them. She was about to fill his plate again when he raised his hand.
“Enough,” he said. He stood the looked at Zeke and Annette.
“We are ready, no?” he asked.
Zeke wiped his mouth then stood. “I reckon we are.”
Annette stood, finishing her coffee.
“We’ll give you two time alone,” she said.
Zeke followed her to the room, helping her with her gear.
“We should take all of it,” she said. “Just in case Voltaire doesn’t make it back.”
“He’ll make it back,” Zeke said.
Annette froze, a frown forming on her face.
“I told you what we might have to do,” she said.
“And I told you he’ll make it back,” Zeke replied.
He grabbed her bags then left the room. “And you wonder why I didn’t come here last night.”
When they returned downstairs Voltaire and Brunhilda stood at the door, Brunhilda crying softly on his shoulder. Voltaire’s hard countenance had eased as he held her.
“I’ll be fine, sweet flower” he said.
“I’ll be so angry with you if you die,” she said.
“Will you put flowers on my grave?” he asked.
“Of course, you fool,” she replied.
They kissed long then finally broke apart. Voltaire turned to Zeke and Annette, an assuring smile on his face.”
“Let us go, comrades,” he said. “The mountains wait.”
Zeke shivered as they followed Voltaire out into the cold morning. They circled the hostel to the outside stables. Zeke and Annette mounted their horses; Voltaire set out on foot.
“I’ll get a mountain pony at the mountaineer’s shop,” he said. “I normally have no use for a horse.”
“Are you a good rider?” Annette asked.
Voltaire grinned. “Good enough.”
Annette cut her eyes at Zeke and he shrugged.
It took them a good hour to reach the mountaineer’s cabin. The building rested at the city’s outskirts, a quaint home with smoke rising from the thin brick chimney. Five short but stout ponies chewed on a bale of snow rimmed hay. A tall man pushed another bale from a small barn, his breath freezing with each puff.
“Gunter!” Voltaire shouted.
The man’s head jerked up, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Voltaire? What are you doing here?”
“Gunter, I’d like you to meet my friends Annette and Zeke,” Voltaire answered.
Zeke and Annette rode to the fence then dismounted. Gunter shook their hands, his hard wrinkled face suspicious. He immediately looked to Voltaire.
“What’s going on, Voltaire?” he asked.
“Zeke and Annette need to go into the mountains and I’m taking them,” Voltaire said.
Gunter’s face flushed red. “Are you crazy?”
Voltaire grinned at his friend. “It’s been a long time, I know. I’ll be a bit rusty but I’m sure I’ll remember the routes.”
“This has nothing to do with remembering the routes!” Gunter shouted. He glared at Zeke and Annette. “Did he tell you why he hasn’t been into the mountains?”
“Yes he did,” Zeke answered.
The man’s eyes narrowed. He turned back to Voltaire and immediately began yelling in a language Zeke couldn’t understand.
“What the in the world is he saying?” he asked Annette.
“Some local dialect,” Annette replied. “I can understand a word here and there. Something about going back home and letting these stupid Africans get killed on their own.”
“I guess everybody in this village is not as nice as Voltaire and Brunhilda.”
Annette smiled. “I guess not.”
“I didn’t come to argue with you,” Voltaire said. “I came for ponies and supplies. Is that within your ability to supply?”
Gunter folded his thick arms across his chest and said nothing.
Voltaire walked up to the fence. “I know you need the money, Gunter.”
“It’s not about the money,” the man replied.
Zeke had enough. He sauntered up to the fence, his hand heavy on his shotgun holster.
“Look, Gunter. It’s very important my partner and I get up into those mountains. Now I’m willing to pay good gold to get there, but I plan to get those ponies and supplies one way or another.”
“You’re crazier than he is!” Gunter said.
“Maybe so,” Zeke replied. “Now are you going to sell us what we need, or do we have to make this transaction more intense?”
“Meet me inside,” Gunter said.
Gunter stomped away to the back of the cabin. Zeke and Annette followed Voltaire to the front entrance and then into the gear shop. Ropes, picks, and other mountain climbing equipment hung on the wall and filled the shelves. From a distance they seemed in pristine condition, but most had not been used in years. Gunter entered the back door then walked up to the counter.
“What do you need?” he asked.
Voltaire reached into his coat then pulled out a list. Gunter snatched the paper from his hand then shuffled back and forth between the shelves and the counters, bringing the equipment needed.
Voltaire looked over the equipment then nodded to Zeke.
“How much I owe you?” Zeke asked.
“Ten gold pieces,” Gunter said.
“That doesn’t look like a fortune worth of gear to me,” Zeke said.
“Pay him,” Annette said. “We must be on our way.”
Zeke frown as he took out Famara’s gold pouch then paid Gunter. The shopkeeper’s eyes glistened and a smile came to his stoic face as Zeke dropped the gold into his hand.
Zeke and Voltaire gathered the gear then the three headed for the door.
“Stay away from the summits,” Gunter called out.
The three of them turned back to Gunter.
“They lurk in the summits,” he continued. “They like to attack from above. They use their weight to kill.”
“You’ve seen them?” Annette asked.
“I’ve been into the mountains,” Gunter confessed. “I go at least once a year. I’ve lost dozens of ponies trying to discover out how to stop them.”
“You mean kill them?” Voltaire said.
“No, stop them,” Gunter said. “They are not animals. This much I know. They are some kind of machine.”
Zeke and Annette exchanged glances.
“Why would someone build such a thing?” Voltaire asked.
“To protect something,” Zeke answered.
“I don’t know what makes you think you can stop them, but I know bullets won’t affect them.”
Gunter reached under the counter the pulled out a double barreled shotgun, slamming it on the countertop.
“It won’t kill them, but it slows them down,” he said.
Zeke patted his shotgun. “I think this will do fine.”
Voltaire took the shotgun. Gunter went to the shelves then came back with an ammunition belt loaded with shotgun shells. He came around the counter then draped the belt over Voltaire’s shoulder.
“Thank you, my friend,” Voltaire said.
“Thank me by coming back,” Gunter said.
They followed Gunter out the back of the shop then into the stables. He saddled the tallest of the ponies for Voltaire then loaded two other ponies with provisions.
“You should make the first cabin by nightfall. You’ll be safe until then. If you don’t find what you’re looking for there then God be with you. The second cabin will be a challenge on its own just because of the terrain. The trails are steep and dilapidated. And then there are the creatures. I don’t suggest you go beyond the third cabin. There are no trails and you’ll have to do a bit of mountain climbing. That is if you get beyond the second cabin.”
Thank you, Gunter,” Annette said.
Gunter opened the gate and the trio rode off. Zeke and Annette rode behind Voltaire as he led them out of the village and into the mountain. A few villagers peered out of their windows; some came outside waving Voltaire goodbye then making the sign of the cross.
By dusk they were climbing a steep road into the foothills. Gunter had apparently kept the road clear, making their journey to the first cabin relatively easy. The cabin fit into a small clearing on a steep slope, a building that hinted at more pleasant situations than the one the trio partook. A patch of winter grass and a snow covered haystack provided food for the horses and ponies and a fresh stack of wood piled against the cabin wall. They dismounted then went inside, Voltaire and Zeke filling their arms with wood. Annette grabbed the kindling then followed. She prepared the huge fireplace as the men carried in the provisions. By the time they settled in the fire was building. Annette started a fire in the metal stove as well then brewed a pot of coffee.
They sat before the fire, sipping on coffee as savoring the aroma of lamb stew.
“The next cabin is a half a day’s ride from here,” Voltaire said.
“Which direction?” Zeke asked.
“North.”
Annette stood. “Excuse us. Zeke?”
Voltaire nodded then stood and walked to the other side of the cabin. Annette took out Famara’s compass. The device glowed brightly, pointing north.
“We’re close it seems,” she said.
“I have a feeling that if we’re close to the book, we’re close to whatever it is killing these folks.”
“I agree. We’ll have to be careful from here on out.”
They ate a good meal then slept. Zeke dreamed of home, of his unkempt farm, the little church, and Pauline. When he woke the next morning it dawned on him the he’d been gone quite a long time. He wondered if Pauline worried about him, if she wondered if he was alive or dead. He made a point to send her a letter when they, or if they, returned.
They shared a breakfast consisting of the remaining stew then continued into the mountains. Voltaire rode in the lead again, but he held Gunter’s shotgun across his lap. Zeke cradled his shotgun as well, loaded with his explosive shells. Annette’s rifle rested across her legs, her eyes searching the brush and hills for any suspicious movement. The sun faded behind gathering clouds; by the time they viewed the cabin light snow gathered on their shoulders.
Zeke saw them first. They glided through the naked trees and rocks like fish down a well-known stream, barely making a sound. They resembled mountain cats, sleek tawny metallic bodies that moved with a stilted yet lifelike motion. He was about to shout a warning when a shot rang from behind him. Annette had her rifle to her shoulder, pulling back the bolt for a second shot. Voltaire began babbling in German as he raised his shotgun, anger full in his face. Zeke whipped his shotgun up. There was no use of him firing, they weren’t close enough and the trees didn’t give him a clear shot. Annette fired again; Zeke watched a spark appear on the head of the cat-like machine to no effect.
“Get to the cabin!” Zeke shouted. Annette didn’t need any urging. She galloped past him and Voltaire. Voltaire had climbed from his horse. He stood wide legged on the edge of the road, shouting at the approaching clockwork cats. A cat leaped before him and Voltaire fired both barrels into it, the cat screeching as it shattered. The blast blew Voltaire off his feet and into his pony, which ran to the cabin behind Annette. The second cat ran to pounce on Voltaire.
“No you don’t!” Zeke growled.
He fired two rounds into the cat’s torso. There was a moment hesitation before both shells exploded, blasting the cat into pieces that showered Voltaire. Zeke rode up to Voltaire. He bled from numerous cuts but seemed to be okay.
“Now where’s that third cat?” Zeke asked.
“Zeke!”
Zeke kicked his horse into action without looking. When he did look his heart fell into this stomach. The third cat chased Annette, gaining on her with every stride. There was no way he could reach her and he was out of range. He tried anyway, firing two shells that fell short, exploding on the trail. The cat leaped and Zeke closed his eyes, waiting for the scream.
It never came. When he opened his eyes Annette sat on her horse staring down at the complacent clockwork cat. Zeke raised his shotgun to shoot.
“No Zeke,” Annette said. “You have to see this!”
Zeke rode up beside her. The cat sat motionless, ticking like a grandfather clock. Attached to its headpiece was Famara’s compass.
“How in God’s name did that happen?” Zeke asked.
“I don’t know,” Annette answered. The compass jumped out my coat then attached to the cat thing. As soon as it did the cat thing froze.”
Zeke dismounted then walked up to the clockwork cat, his gun at the ready. He circled it slowly, studying it for anything odd.
“Maybe it will take us to where it came from,” he said.
“How do we get it to do that?” Annette asked.
“Same way Famara does,” Zeke said. He reached out then touched the compass. The cat stood on all fours then walked away. Zeke touched it again and it stopped.
“Here.” He handed Annette his shotgun. “Just in case it changes its mind.”
He trotted back to the wounded Voltaire. He helped the man to his feet then together they walked to the cabin.
“What are you waiting for?” Voltaire said. “Destroy that thing!”
“It’s on our side now,” Zeke replied. “It will take us where we need to go, I suspect.”
Voltaire pulled away from him. “Those things are evil!”
Zeke pushed his hat back. “It’s a machine. It does what it’s told to do. Right now we’re telling it what to do.”
Voltaire’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you haven’t controlled them all along? How do I know that they are protecting something for you?”
“You’re talking crazy now,” Zeke answered. “Why in the ...I mean why on earth would I have my own machines attack me? Come on, now. We’re wasting time.”
They carried Voltaire into the cabin. Zeke built a fire while Annette tended Voltaire’s wounds. Once the fire was made Zeke sat their provisions by Voltaire.
“We have to get going,” Zeke said.
“Shouldn’t we wait until morning?” Annette asked.
Zeke shook his head. “We have to make a run tonight. Once whoever sent those things realized the toys ain’t coming back they’re going to send more and be on guard. That cat outside will take us to their hideout.”
Voltaire sat up. “I’m going.”
“No, you’re staying here,” Zeke said. “You’ve done enough. I promised Brunhilda I’d bring you home safe and I’m keeping that promise.”
He cut his eyes at Annette and she smiled slightly.
“But I can help!” Voltaire said.
“You’ve done what you came to do,” Zeke said. “Now I ain’t taking not more lip. You stay here and rest. Me and Miss Annette got work to do.”
Zeke waited for Annette to grab her gear. They left the cabin then corralled the horses.
“You think we’ll find the hideout before dark?” Annette asked.
“We better,” Zeke answered. “Or it’s going to be a mighty cold night. Them clock cats are windups, which mean they can only travel so far. So I’m guessing wherever they came from is close.”
Annette mounted her horse while Zeke strolled to the dormant clock cat. He touched the compass and the cat rose on all fours then trotted down the trail. Zeke ran to his horse. They followed the machine cat up the mountain, racing against the approaching darkness.
The clockwork cat kept to the trail for the first hour then veered right into the wooded hill. The brush was too thick for the horses, so Zeke and Annette grabbed what they could carry then followed the machine into the steep slopes. It was hard going; Zeke had to pull Annette up a number of steeper climbs.
“I need to rest,” Annette finally said.
Zeke looked about then spotted a clump of tree.
“Follow me.”
They worked their way to the trees then sat among them, huddled close for warmth.
“This is nice,” Annette said.
Zeke’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Kind of cold to me.”
Annette laughed. “So how did you get in this line of work, Ezekiel Culpepper?”
Zeke took out a pocket knife then cut a branch from a nearby tree.
“I grew up on a farm. Shooting was like breathing. I always had a good eye. According to my daddy that was the only good thing about me.”
“I take it you two did not get along,” Annette said.
Zeke began whittling the branch. “That’s an understatement. About the time I was sixteen I had to leave the farm. Either that or we were going to kill each other. I wandered about for a while, picking up odd jobs here and there. One day I looked up and I was in New Haiti, New Orleans to be exact.”
“I’m from New Orleans!” Annette said.
“I suspected so. You got that blues thing in your voice. Anyway, I knocked about there but realized I wasn’t going to find a good living there either. So one day I walked up to the Haitian army barracks and enlisted.”
“Weren’t you too young?”
“That’s what they said until they saw me shoot,” Zeke said. “They signed me up then sent me straight to the Borderlands.”
Zeke stopped whittling. “How you feeling?”
“Much better now,” Annette said.
“We best get back to it then.”
The trees thinned as they climbed higher; after another hour they walked among bare rock and snow. Zeke was not happy at all. They were exposed to anyone with bad intentions and a good rifle. He kept his eye on the cat until it disappeared. They hurried as much as they could after it then found themselves peering over a ledge. The cat sauntered up to a small cave entrance then sat.
Zeke took out his shotgun as Annette readied her rifle.
“You ready?” he asked.
Annette nodded.
The two of them scrambled over the edge, sprinting across the narrow trail. As soon as they reached the cave the clockwork cat proceeded inside. The darkness of the entrance gave way to a muted light. Zeke peered upward; metal coated cables connected a series of light running the length of the tunnel. The tunnel sloped downward, expanding as they proceeded deeper into the mountain. As the tunnel came to a large opening the clockwork cat halted.
The room rang with the sounds of metal work. Zeke and Annette peeked inside, marveling at the site. Below them was a robotic assembly line. Automatons of various shapes and sizes worked on a myriad of projects. Some built other robots, while others hammered metal plates into various shapes. Another group of metal men labored in a lab environment, monitoring bubbling beakers and flasks, adjusting burners and adding ingredients. In the center of all the activity was a short man draped in a dingy lab coat, his arms cradling a large, leather bound book. Dolph stood beside the man.
“So what do we do now?” Annette asked.
“I have a plan,” Zeke said. “Give me your rifle.”
Annette handed Zeke the rifle. Zeke check the rifle to make sure it was loaded, and then drew a bead on the man in the lab coat.
“Zeke, no!” Annette said.
Zeke fired, the room echoing with the shot. The man’s head jerked back then he crumpled to the floor. He swung the gun the left but Dolph was gone. The robots rose in unison then ran toward them.
“What kind of plan is this?” Annette asked.
“The best I could come up with,” Zeke replied. “Get that shotgun ready.”
Zeke snatched the compass from the clockwork cat and the cat collapsed to the stone floor.
A bullet ricocheted off the wall near his head. Zeke and Annette ducked for cover. Zeke slid the rifle back to Annette.
“I’m going to make a move,” he said. “You keep an eye out for him.”
Annette nodded then brought the rifle to her shoulder. Zeke dashed forward. Dolph fired nicking his shoulder. Annette fired immediately afterwards,
“I got him sighted!” she shouted.
Zeke didn’t hear her. A mass of robots trudged up the ramp, their arms lifted over their heads.
“Here we go!” Zeke said.
The shotgun’s blasts echoed throughout the chamber. Robots shattered before Zeke, the explosive shells taking their toll. Behind him Annette and Dolph dueled from a distance, exchanging rifle fire from the darkness. Zeke’s boots crunched over metal parts and quivering robots as he blasted his way down into the main chamber. The books lay before him on a wide table. As he tried to reach them Dolph unleashed a torrent of gunfire. Zeke ducked under the nearest table.
“Annette!” he shouted. “Some cover fire if you don’t mind.”
There was no answer. An empty feeling hit Zeke’s gut. He checked his ammo; he had two explosive shells remaining. He looked up to where Annette should be but saw no movement.
“It seems your companion has suffered a bad fate,” Dolph shouted. “You are at a disadvantage, Freedonian.”
“Don’t think you’re doing much better,” Zeke shouted back. “You got a dead scientist and a bunch of broken up mechanical men. Why don’t you just let me take the books and be on my way?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Dolph replied. “But we can be gentlemen about this. I’ll allow you to retrieve your friend’s body and ‘be on your way’ as you say.”
A shot rang out.
“Shiesse!” Dolph cried.
Zeke stood, firing two explosive shells in the direction of Dolph’s voice. The shells exploded against the rock, causing a minor avalanche.
“Ahhh!”
Zeke sprinted to the table. He jumped over the dead scientist’s body as he holstered his shotgun. Once at the table he slammed the books closed then tucked them under his arms. Then he ran back up the ramp. Annette lay on the ground, barely holding her rifle. Blood ran from her stomach as she tried to smile.
“I’ll slow you down,” she managed to say. “Go, take the books.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” he said.
“You can’t carry the books and me,” she said.
“No I can’t,” he replied.
Zeke set the books down. He ran back down into the lab to the table where the books rested then searched through the wreckage until he found what he was looking for; a satchel large enough to hold both books. He ran back to Annette. He placed the books in the satchel then tied the satchel to the mechanical cat’s back. He reattached the compass to the cat and it reactivated, its eyes becoming beams of light.
“Now let’s take a look at that wound.”
Zeke tore his shirt then made a makeshift bandage. Once he stopped the bleeding he hoisted Annette on his shoulder then carried her out the cave, the clockwork cat following like a docile pet. The journey down the mountain was a precarious ordeal but he managed to get them both to their horses. He placed Annette on his horse then climbed on behind her. They rode down the path as fast as he could muster, reaching the cabin just before dark. When he entered the cabin carrying Annette Voltaire jumped to his feet.
Voltaire’s smile transformed into a glare when he saw the clockwork cat enter behind them. He ran to his shotgun.
“No, Voltaire,” Zeke said. “Help me get Annette to the bed.
Together they gently carried Annette to the cot. Voltaire looked at her wound then grimaced.
“This is bad,” he said. “We need to get her to the village as soon as possible.”
“It’s almost dark,” Zeke said.
“So we must hurry,” Voltaire answered.
They changed Zeke’s makeshift bandage with bandages packed by Gunter then hurried to their horses. Voltaire made a wide berth around the clockwork cat, his angry eyes locked on the thing. Zeke saw his reaction. He walked over to the automaton then disengaged the compass. He then went to Voltaire, handing him his shotgun.
“Go ahead,” Zeke said.
Voltaire snatched the gun from his hand. He immediately pumped three rounds into the thing, grinning as each round exploded. He handed the gun back to Zeke.
“Thank you, my friend,” he said. “Thank you.”
They arrived in the village hours after dark. They were forced to walk, both of them carrying torches to light the way. Annette managed to stay in the saddle despite her wound.
“Gunter! Gunter!” Voltaire shouted.
A light appeared in the window of Gunter’s cabin. Moments later the shopkeeper stepped into the darkness with a kerosene lamp then shuffled up to them.
“Voltaire, what are you doing here this late? Don’t you know those things...?”
“They are destroyed, all of them,” Voltaire said. “But our friend is hurt. She needs a doctor.”
Gunter’s eyes widened when he saw Annette.
“Come!” he said.
He led them to his small bedroom. Zeke eased Annette into the bed as Gunter shuffled off then returned with fresh bandages.
“I’ve get Victor,” he said.
Zeke carefully changed Annette’s bandages. She winced then looked at him with desperate eyes.
“Hang in there, little lady,” he said. “You gonna be alright.”
Zeke sat beside her holding her hand while Voltaire paced back and forth. Moments later the back door of the cabin flew open; Gunter and Dr. Victor Weismann rushed inside. Dr. Weisman wore a heavy coat over his sleeping clothes. His annoyed expression faded when he saw Annette.
“Stand aside,” he ordered. Zeke stood and the doctor took his place.
“I know this woman,” he said. “This is Annette Bijoux.”
He removed Zeke’s bandages to look at her wound.
“She’s been shot? How did this happen?”
“We can talk about that later,” Zeke said. “Can you help her?”
The doctor frowned at Zeke. “Of course I can. It’s a bad wound, but she’ll be fine. I have to take out the bullet. Will you assist me, Gunter?”
“Of course,” the shopkeeper replied.
Annette handled the pain well as the doctor extracted the bullet. He disinfected the wound with spirits then set about stitching it closed. Voltaire retreated to the other side of the shop, unable to watch. Zeke hovered over the two the entire procedure. The sight brought back old memories of battlefield hospitals and loss comrades.
“She will be fine,” the doctor said. “But she will need much rest.”
“How much rest?” Zeke asked.
“At least two weeks,” the doctor replied.
“Zeke, you’ll have to take the books back to Famara,” Annette replied. “Two weeks is too long for you to wait.”
“Nope,” he replied. “Can’t leave you here among strangers.”
“She’s not among strangers,” Voltaire replied. “You and Annette are like family to Brunhilda and I. And the village will be most gracious now that you have rid our mountains of these metal monsters.”
Zeke rubbed his chin. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
Annette managed to smile. “You forget who I am.”
Zeke smiled back. “I guess you will be okay.”
Zeke sat by Annette’s side until she slept. Gunter made a bunk for him and he fell into it with relish. He closed his eyes, his mind filled with the image of Pauline and his farm. He’d been gone long enough. It was time to collect and go home.