New Kingdom Reckoning Chapter One

COPYRIGHT 2016 Charles F. Millhouse/Stormgate Publishing
CHAPTER ONE

Caleb Johnson stood in the middle of the street. It had been raining the night before and the road down the center of New Kingdom was muddy. Hard clumps of earth covered his boots. The morning dew brought with it a taste of spring that clung to the back of his throat. A chill hung in the air. He wore his familiar tan trail jacket. It was pulled away from his right hip. His Schofield hung on his leg, his hand poised over the handle.
Why am I doing this? Caleb grimaced, his dark blue eyes shaded by the rim of his Stetson. He stared at the lean boy who stood on the other side of the street.
The boy was no older than eighteen. He dressed like a vagrant. His brown pants ripped at the knees and his shirt was stained with earth. His hair was matted to his head and Caleb couldn’t tell what color it was through the filth. “What’s it going to be Sheriff?” the boy stood ready to pull his pistol. Despite his lack of clean clothes, he did holster a forty-four revolver. Caleb figured he won it in a shootout, which made the boy a crack shot.
If this was any normal gunfight, Caleb might have cause to worry. But things weren’t normal. They hadn’t been normal for nearly four years, when he woke up in the foundry at the end of town, reborn after being killed by the Black Rider, Lucius Krull.
The angel, Eve, told him he’d been given a gift – a gift from heaven, a gift to fight back the demonic creatures determined to take over the world. A gift she took back, with no explanation.
For six months Caleb struggled to understand, why Eve would give it all, and then rip away every ounce of the power bestowed on him – every ounce except one: immortality.
“So, are you going to skin that pistol and see if you’re faster than I am Sheriff or are we going to stand here all fucking day?”
Word spread that New Kingdom had a sheriff that couldn’t be killed. At first Caleb met the challenges – he wouldn’t back down from a fight, but after putting more men than he cared to count in the ground, fighting lost its appeal. “Go home kid. You don’t want to die here!”
Spectators lined the wooded sidewalk down Main Street. Caleb caught a glimpse of Peter Prokofiev and Adelaide Turner standing only a few feet away. They both knew the outcome before it happened. Caleb would win and the boy’s blood would be soaking into the earth like so many who stood where he was.
“I’m not going to draw on you kid. I’m not going to do it,” Caleb said. He lowered his jacket over his pistol and dropped his hand to its side.
The young kid stood dumbfounded. His eyes widened, his hand twitched. “I’ll do it – I’ll shoot you!” he screamed.
“Do what you need to,” Caleb said. “Just don’t be shocked if I don’t participate in the fight.”
The boy grunted with rage. He whipped his revolver out of its holster and fired.
Bam – bam – bam. Three shots tore across the street and struck Caleb square in the chest. The force from the impact knocked him off his feet and he fell backward to the mud. Some of the women shouted and screamed, but even then they didn’t seem sincere enough at a man’s inevitable death.
“Goddamn, I’m good!” the boy shouted and whooped. He twirled his pistol on his finger and shoved it back in its holster. He stretched out his hands waiting for applause that never came. His self celebration ended however when Caleb groaned and sat up.
Caleb pushed himself to his feet. Wisps of smoke fluted out of the holes in his chest. His Stetson fell off his head and his blond hair strung in front of his face. With his muddy fingers Caleb dug the slugs from his chest. “I told ya kid, just go home.”
“No – I shot you. I shot you dead to rights. I never miss.”
“You didn’t miss,” Caleb replied. He dropped the bloody bullets to the mud.
“I – I want another go!” the boy shouted. “Another chance to kill you – or you kill me.”
“It’s over,” Caleb turned.
“Hell no!” the boy replied. He raced into the crowd of people and grabbed up a young girl. The five year old screamed, kicked and tried to break away from the arm wrapped around her. “You’re going to fight me, or I swear to God I’ll kill this girl!”
Adelaide bolted forward but Peter grabbed hold of her.
Miss Gutter cried out for her daughter, her arms stretched out for her little Beatrice. The child cried reaching for her mother.
The boy pointed his pistol at the mother; the woman stopped, hesitant – water rained from her eyes. “I swear to GOD, I’ll fucking kill her!” the boy threatened pressing the end of his pistol against the girl’s head.
Caleb didn’t reply – he reacted… too fast for anyone to tell what was happening. He pulled his forty-five and fired. A look of disbelief riddled across the boy’s face. His eyes screwed in their sockets – his mouth agape. The boy’s rich dark complexion paled, he hissed and slurred releasing the girl before dropping to the mud. A pool of Scarlett surrounded him.
The girl ran to her mother.
Caleb stared at the boy’s fallen body. Another one, he looked away, shamefaced. In the distance four young boys, not older than twelve stood along the street and stared at him. Their faces emotionless, their eyes pitted. Caleb watched for a moment but turned away from their impassive stares. When he glanced back, the four boys had gone.
Caleb walked back into the jailhouse not giving his silent accusers another thought. His mind raced. Immortality – he didn’t understand why… why did Eve leave him the power to never die?
Peter followed Caleb. “You alright?” he asked. His Russian ancient not as prevalent as it once was.
Caleb peeled off his muddy trail jacket and let it fall to the floor. His pants were wet, but otherwise unmarked. Blood covered the front of his gray button down. “I just bought this shirt over at Denver’s Mercantile last week.”
“Maybe Janet will sell you another one half price. She’s more of a businessman than Edward Jackson ever was.”
Caleb ripped the shirt off of him and used it to wipe the blood from his chest, smearing it across his hairless skin.
“Here, let me do that for you,” Adelaide Tuner said when she walked into the jailhouse. Her boots clopped across the hardwood floor and her denim skirt swayed like a Sunday school bell.
“Is the little girl alright?” Caleb asked.
“Scared more than anything else,” Adelaide said. She poured some water from a pitcher and soaked a rag in it, she pointed at a stool and Caleb sat down. “There’s something you should know.”
Caleb’s brow wrinkled.
“They’re calling a town meeting tonight. Word is they want you out as sheriff,” Adelaide said. She leaned over Caleb, her firm breasts in an orange blouse hung in his face.
Peter leaned against the wall. His arms folded in front of him. “They… they who?”
“The people in town,” Adelaide replied. “Their saying you’re bringing an unstable sort into town.”
Peter laughed and pushed away from the wall. “Are you kidding? Do they know what would be in this town if Caleb wasn’t here to protect it?”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Adelaide said.
“What about Ardine… He’s the damn mayor. Can’t he sort it out?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know what he thinks.”
Caleb stood up from the stool. He’d stopped bleeding and the bullet holes had begun to grow over.
“You don’t seem too tore up about this decision,” Adelaide said.
Caleb pulled on another shirt that he found in his footlocker. It smelled musty, but it didn’t have bullet holes in it. “If they want my job they’re welcome to it,” he said. He kicked the footlocker back under his bunk.
Peter tipped his fiddler cap back on his head. “Then where will we go?”
Caleb winced. “What makes you think you won’t take my place as sheriff?”
Peter laughed. “What makes you think they’ll replace you with a guy that can turn into a werewolf at will?” He stared out into the street.
“Good point,” Caleb replied.
Adelaide chuckled under her breath. Her eyes twinkled.
“What’s so funny?”
“They might make me sheriff.”
Caleb hesitated.
“What?” Adelaide said.
“I thought you’d go off with me,” Caleb said. He looked to the floor.
“Sure about that are you?” Adelaide asked. Her tongue pressed on her upper lip. “Beside I have to wait for my father. I promised I’d wait until his return.”
“That’s been months ago. You sure he’s coming back?”
Adelaide didn’t answer.
“There they are again Caleb,” Peter said from the jailhouse door.
“The nuns?” Adelaide asked. She joined Peter at the door.
The seven sisters walked together toward the boy’s fallen body in the street. They dressed in full nun regalia, their heads covered with hoods, their feet hidden under their long black dresses.
“They live twenty miles away. How they are always here when there is a killing is beyond me. It’s like they know when it’s going to happen,” Adelaide said.
“They give me the chills,” Peter replied. Dark aura followed the group wherever they went. It reminded him of a low storm cloud.
Since the sisters arrived in New Kingdom they kept to themselves. They never came into the town alone, always as a group, and never came unless it was for supplies, or to give final rights to a fallen victim.
“They’re your biggest opponents Caleb,” Adelaide said pointing at the nuns. “They have it in for you.”
Caleb choked on a breath when all seven sisters turned and look toward him.
“How did they know…” Shuttered, Peter folded his arms in front of him. “It just got colder.”
Caleb closed the jailhouse door and poured himself a cup of coffee. His hands shook. Since the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse broke out of the church things didn’t seem the same in New Kingdom. He forced to hide a grin. Not as if things had been normal… ever. Caleb possessed a sixth sense. Something left over from his powers that allowed him to be aware of strange things. The nuns weren’t strange – but damn peculiar. They took up residence in Daybreak Sanitarium, moved in before Caleb burned it to the ground and refused to hear his reasoning for wanting to destroy it. For the past half a year the nuns rebuilt the reputation of the debunked hospital. They’d become a beacon of hope in the valley. He didn’t dispute them for that. But Caleb wanted, needed to know more.
“Hey, you alright?” Adelaide asked.
Caleb turned around to face her. He sat his cup of coffee on the edge of his desk. “I’m fine... fine.”
Adelaide’s brow furrowed. “You don’t lie very well.”
Caleb scooted around his desk and sat in the chair. He pulled his warm cup to him. “Adelaide, I’m fine.”
“She’s right Caleb you’re acting skittish,” Peter said.
“Not you too,” Caleb said and sat back in his chair.
Beatific, Peter grinned. “Ever since the horsemen…”
“It’s not the horsemen. It’s –”
“It’s Howard isn’t it?” Adelaide asked.
Howard Pittman was the first real friend Caleb had after released from prison, not counting Morning Dove. When the Indian Maiden needed Caleb’s help, Howard was his friend through and through. Then something happened to Howard – something Caleb couldn’t figure out. But since that time six months ago Howard kept his distance, always watching, as if waiting for something.
“People change,” Caleb said. “I have no ill will against Howard. He must follow the path he chooses. He has his reasons – we all do. Who am I to dispute him for his choices?”
Peter opened the front door. Caleb glanced outside. The nuns had gone. “I’ve got patrol tonight. I’m going to the hotel and get a couple hours of sleep,” Peter said.
“Ah, Caleb,” Ardine Forsythe said as he burst into the jailhouse and pushed past Peter. “I suppose you heard about the meeting tonight?” His perfect teeth gleamed.
Caleb pushed his cool coffee away from him. “Yeah, I heard.” He picked up his pocket knife and took a bullet from a box and began to etch a pentagram into the side of it. Finished he placed it in a carton of other marked shells, took out another one and began to carve.
“You don’t seem too upset about it,” Ardine replied.
“I’m not… I don’t give a damn about it. If they want me out I’ll be happy to go.”
“Oh… oh…” Ardine flushed white – his brow furrowed. “Well you can’t do that – you have to stay here in New Kingdom. What about the war to come?”
Caleb slammed his pocket knife down and stood. “I know all about the war to come,” he said. If anyone knew about the war it was Caleb. Even with his angelic powers taken from him, he still retained the information Eve taught him about demons, monsters and all the things that go bump in the night.
“You have to be at the meeting tonight… you have to be. You have to convince the people of this town that you’re the right man for the job.”
“I can’t do that Ardine, because I’m not sure I am anymore,” Caleb said and noticed the quizzical look from Adelaide. “You think I should?”
“Yes,” Peter spoke up before Adelaide responded.
“I thought you were going to take a nap?” Caleb snapped.
“I’m going – I’m going,” Peter said with a wide smile and walked out of the jailhouse.
Caleb looked at Adelaide. “Well…”
Adelaide’s small button nose wrinkled. “Frankly, yes I think you should go tonight. You’re a good sheriff. I might not know everything you’ve gone though since you met that Indian…”
“Morning Dove – and no you don’t. No one does,” Caleb snapped. His training, his angelic powers and the loss of them would remain his secret. He couldn’t hide the fact that he was immortal. But his life was his own. Caleb cleared his thoughts. If he left New Kingdom with the coming war what kind of person would he be? He’d never ran from a fight and he wasn’t about to begin now. “Alright, Ardine, I’ll go tonight.”
Ardine slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “You won’t regret it Caleb – you won’t regret it.”

Something told Caleb, Ardine would eat those words sooner or later.