Skull Moon

It was so childishly simple. Skullhead closed his eyes, belched, and waited for necessity or mere boredom to force him into the house, the dining hall. There were others there…he could smell their parts-hot, secret, wanting. Skullhead dreamed as the wind blew cold and the lantern went out. He dreamed of a fine tanned smock knitted from the soft hides of children. Warm and toasty, covering his innumerable bare spots.

He waited for carnage. It was all he knew.

9

After Longtree had turned over the body of Mike Ryan to Deputy Bowes, he had a look for Sheriff Lauters. No one had seen him. He wasn't at Doc Perry's and Perry claimed he didn't know where he was.

Longtree didn't believe him.

He knew the doctor was a friend of the sheriff's and had been for some time. Perry knew where he was, but he wouldn't tell, not even if Longtree put him under arrest and slapped him around. Perry was a very loyal man. Longtree respected this. Lauters was out there somewhere, holed up in some saloon or whorehouse, drinking himself blind. His career was over and he knew that now. He was in hiding and the only thing that would bring him out was the Skullhead. And sooner or later, this would happen.

Longtree stabled his horse in the livery across from the Serenity Hotel and set out on foot. He had to find Lauters and if that meant checking every saloon in town, then this is what he'd do. He didn't want to arrest Lauters just yet, merely put him under a sort of protective custody. Whether the sheriff liked that or not didn't concern Longtree. He wanted the man behind bars in the jailhouse so Bowes and he could get a crack at the beast when it came for him.

It was a plan.

The snow was still falling, the wind still blowing when Longtree passed the smithy shop. He stopped there. Dick Rikers was the blacksmith and according to Bowes' records, he'd been one of the few to witness the vigilantes actually stringing up Red Elk.

Longtree went in.

It was hot in there, Rikers working branding irons at the forge.

"Marshal. What can I do for you?" Rikers asked, his powerful arms wet with sweat.

"I'd like to ask you a couple questions, if I may."

Rikers nodded, setting aside his work and wiping his face and neck with a towel. "Just fashioning a new set of irons for the Ryan combine. It can wait, though."

"Mike Ryan?"

"Don't know of any other."

Longtree rolled a cigarette and lit it slowly. "Ryan's dead, Mr. Rikers," he said.

"Dead?" Rikers looked shocked.

"Yeah, murdered. Killed by the same thing that's killed the others. The thing you saw, I believe."

Rikers went pale, remembering the night he'd seen the creature run off after assaulting Dewey Mayhew. "Ryan," he said, "Mike Ryan."

Longtree nodded. "I don't think he'll be the last, either."

"Something had better well be done."

"Oh, we're trying, Mr. Rikers, I assure you of this," Longtree said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "But you see, this is a strange situation, a very strange one indeed. I'm of a mind that these deaths are connected with the lynching of that Blackfoot last year. You saw it, didn't you?"

Rikers swallowed. "I saw it, all right. But there was nothing I could've done for that boy except gotten myself killed, if that's what your insinuating."

"No, you did right, Mr. Rikers. No sense in tangling with outlaws like that."

"I don't know who they were-they wore masks."

"No, that's not what I'm interested in either. I want to ask you about the murder that led to all that."

Rikers features went slack. "The Carpenter girl?"

"Yes. What do you remember of her?"

Rikers sat down, licking his lips. "She was a pretty girl, Marshal. That and a very nice one. She was liked by everyone. Just a nice kid who never did any wrong by anyone."

"Did she have suitors that you recall?"

Rikers laughed. "She had too many, Marshal. Men crawled out of the woodwork when they got a look at her."

"You remember any in particular?"

"Hell, Marshal, " Rikers said, "it was some time ago. There were ranch hands, some of the miners, even Liberty, the dentist."

"A real popular girl, eh?"

"Yes, but a moral one, you understand. She never so much as dated a single man that I remember." Rikers laughed again. "She really did have her choice, though, even married men took a shine to her. I recall Sheriff Lauters was pretty sweet on her."

"Lauters?"

"Yeah, Big Bill was in love, I think."

10

Jimmy Lauters, aged twelve, collapsed in the snow outside his house. His head was spinning with dizziness, his eyesight blurred. As he lay there in the snow, trembling with shock, dry heaves wracking his body, he thought only of death.

In his mind, he saw only slaughter.

He tried to will himself to crawl the last few feet to the door, but movement, any movement seemed a chore. He heard the barn door swing open and slam against the wall. It made a great hammering noise as if it had been reduced to kindling. And no wind, Jimmy knew, had the strength to do that. He could hear heavy footfalls behind him and knew that the beast was coming.

He could feel its hot breath on his back.