The Devil's Destiny---4
Four Corners was blanketed under a cloak of darkness, except for the fires burning in the street. Six men sat in their usual seats in the saloon as Inez returned with a final round of drinks for them.
"Well, I think it's time fer me ta turn in. I've got early patrol tomorrow." Vin yawned and stretched his arms.
"Good night, Mr. Tanner," Standish said.
"Night, Vin," Wilmington, Dunne, Jackson and Sanchez said at once.
Vin stepped into the street and looked up at the millions of stars shining overhead. He never tired of the beauty nature had to offer and he breathed deeply of the warm night air. A shudder ran down his back as he looked towards the moon and a dark cloud blotted out the circular orb. 'Damn,' he thought as he headed for his wagon.
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Robert Maguire looked at the man hanging before him. He knew he was on the verge of waking up and that brought a smile to his face as stepped towards his victim. He snagged the blond hair and lifted the head. "It's time to wake up and meet your destiny, Chris Larabee," he whispered in the man's ear.
The gunslinger moaned as the hand gripped his hair and pulled up sharply. He couldn't remember what happened, but he knew this was going to be bad. He forced his eyes to open and look at the man holding his head.
"Welcome to your destiny, Chris Larabee," Maguire laughed and released his captive's head.
Chris kept his eyes open and looked around. His hands were tied with a length of cord and secured to a hook above his head, his ankles were likewise secured to hooks in the ground and his legs were partially spread. His cloths had been removed and an Indian loincloth was around his waist. His body trembled in the cold cave and he searched out his nemesis.
"Do you like our home, Chris?"
"You son of a bitch," Larabee hissed.
"You will call me worse than that before I take your soul."
Larabee's head was ringing and he struggled to grasp the man's words. "What the hell are you talking about, Maguire?"
"My father taught me that I could break a man and take his strength and his soul as my own if I found the right man. He said it was a man's destiny. I knew when I saw you that you were the one."
"The one what?" Larabee tried to stay focused but the lingering effects of the drug made it impossible.
"The one who would make me whole."
"What are you going to do?" he asked, knowing without a doubt he didn't really want the answer.
"I'm going to kill you, Chris Larabee, but not before you scream out your pain. As that scream leaves your body so will your strength and your soul. At that point I will truly own them both," Maguire laughed as he took something from his pocket. The light reflected off the shiny metal and Chris recognized it as a scalpel, one similar to those Nathan Jackson would use. "I will know when the time is right and the scream real," he said as he touched the blade to Larabee's thigh. He sliced across the leg with just enough pressure to bring a thin stream of blood to the surface. "We have forever to make you scream, Chris and until you do I will enjoy watching you suffer," Maguire hissed as he turned away from his victim.
Larabee clenched his teeth as the stinging bite of the scalpel ebbed. He felt the blood flow slowly from the wound and slide in a sticky line down his leg. The wound itself wasn't deep and he knew it wouldn't kill him, but the slowly oozing blood could have devastating effects if it didn't stop.
"Oh, don't worry, Chris, I have no intention of letting you bleed to death," Maguire smiled as he poured whiskey onto a strip of cloth and applied it to the wound. "We have only just begun and have so much more to do. My father said I was the devil and he just may have been right."
"You bastard," Larabee hissed.
Maguire's fist shot out and connected with the gunslinger's right cheek, rocking his head back and bringing a bright red mark to his face. "You will never call me that again!" he snarled as his left fist drove into Larabee's midsection, driving the air from his lungs.
Larabee clenched his eyes as he desperately tried to draw air back into his starving lungs. He moaned softly as he finally succeeded and wondered how he was ever going to get away from the maniac smiling gleefully at him.
Maguire reached out with his index finger and touched the blood dripping from his victim's split lip. He grinned evilly as he stuck the finger in his mouth, "So sweet," he said. "Nectar of the Gods."
The green eyes glared angrily at the man before him and Maguire knew his instincts were right and he'd found the perfect man. "My search is finally over, Chris. The others were satisfying, but did not make me whole. With your death, I will be complete. I will live forever with the added strength of your dark soul. Sleep well, Chris, for when I return the games will begin anew."
'How the hell did I get into this,' the gunslinger thought as he watched the man leave the cave. He struggled with the cord wrapped around his wrists and realized all he'd managed to do was tighten them. He felt blood running from the abused flesh but continued to work on his bonds. He had no way of knowing how much time elapsed before his arms screamed in protest, the muscles cramping from his efforts to get free. The drug Maguire fed him was still in his system and he felt his fatigued body surrender to the call of sleep. 'Hell, Vin, I need help,' he thought as his eyes slid closed.
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Tanner sat bolt upright in his wagon, sweat beading on his forehead as the word resounded in his head. He knew it was Chris, knew instinctively something was wrong. The cry for help was something he hadn't expected, but it was something he wouldn't deny. He climbed out of the wagon and looked along the darkened street. Dawn was just beginning to brighten the sky as he moved towards the livery. Peso stood in the usual stall and Vin moved to saddle the horse.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Tanner?"
Vin turned to see Ezra Standish leading his horse into the livery. The tracker knew the gambler was just returning from patrol and would soon head for his room to sleep the morning away. "I don't know, Ez," he answered.
"Those are ominous words. Are you perhaps sensing danger around our fair town?"
"Danger? Yeah, but it's not for the town. I think Chris is in trouble."
"Fire!" the call went up from a small home on the opposite end of town and both men forgot their conversation as one of the most feared words echoed through the town. They reached the burning building within seconds of the panicked cry and joined the bucket brigade.
When the word fire sounded in a town people moved fast. The buildings surrounding the afflicted one were in as much danger as the burning structure and people moved to save them. Buckets of water passed from one tired set of hands to another as men and women fought the blaze. They brought it under control just after daybreak but not soon enough to save the building. Luckily no one was hurt but a family was now without a home. The Millers were a proud family and lived in Four Corners since the beginning and they vowed to rebuild. A loud cheer rang up from the group at the news the couple and their three children would remain in town.
"Well, it appears even a tragedy such as this doesn't diminish the Millers' need to partake of the hardships of western civilization."
"Whatever you say, Ez," Tanner smiled tiredly as he followed the other men to the saloon. Inez saw them coming and knew they'd want something to eat. She'd prepared biscuits, bacon, and beans in large quantities, knowing the tired group of firefighters would be hungry.
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Chris Larabee lifted his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. He had no idea how long he'd been hanging in the cave but the fire died out hours ago and he'd been left in the damp, cloying darkness. He heard movement to his left and knew instinctively that the madman was back.
Maguire moved towards his victim and reached out to touch the bare skin. He used the scalpel to trail a thin line across the blonde's chest, smiling at the sharp intake of breath.
"So nice of you to join me, Chris, I do hope you're enjoying your new accommodations."
"Go to hell," Larabee spat.
"Ah, I would love to grant you your wish, Chris, but I'm afraid I'll be making your life a living hell instead," Maguire remarked.
Chris heard him move away, but knew he'd be back. He closed his eyes against the bright light as his personal demon started a small blaze going in the cave. The light from the fire reached him but the warmth stayed just beyond his reach as he shivered in his bonds.
"Are you cold, Chris?"
"Not at all," Larabee answered sarcastically.
"I'm glad to hear that because I won't be staying in this cave with you. There's a lovely family just down the road a pace and they've kindly offered to let me have one of their beds since they won't be needing them."
"What the hell does that mean?" the gunslinger asked, dreading the answer he knew was coming.
"Well, I'm afraid they met with an untimely death. It seems they fell victim to a few misplaced bullets. Oh well, shall we continue with our games?"
"You bastard," Larabee swore as Maguire showed him the whip he held in his hands.
"I bought this just for you, Chris. You should feel honored that I spent this money on my gift for you. I did not want to use instruments that were sullied by others. You are special, Chris Larabee, and nothing that touched anyone else will touch the skin on your body," Maguire's soft lilting voice was the only sound in the cave as he slowly ran the edge of the whip across his victim's taut muscles. "You will soon understand how much you mean to me. You will soon beg me to take your soul and free you from the chains of life," he drawled as he pulled the whip back over his right shoulder and let it fly in a tight arch towards the shivering form.
The gunslinger bit his lip as the first lash landed on his bare back. He held his breath waiting for the next to fall and clenched his fists at the agonizing white fire that burned a trail across his back and shoulders. He stopped counting as the sixth blow landed and tried to concentrate on something other than the searing pain Maguire was inflicting on him. "I'll kill you," he swore as another blow landed.
"I don't think so, Chris. Hmm, I think that's enough for now," Maguire said as he walked back to the fire.
Chris held his breath, waiting for the agony in his back to dwindle enough for him to take a breath.
"I just have to clean them now, Chris," Maguire explained as he placed a whiskey covered cloth over the raw wounds.
"Son of a bitch," Larabee hissed as he sagged against the cord holding his wrists.
"Oh, Chris, this really is only the beginning for both of us," Maguire gripped the blond hair and pulled the head back. He forced the bottle through the lips and poured the liquid into his victim's mouth, forcing him to swallow the fiery offering.
The whiskey burned as it flowed down his throat and Chris gagged against the searing fluid. He'd drank rot gut before but this was something worse. He gagged and sputtered as his stomach expelled its contents leaving him weak and disoriented.
"Such a waste. No matter. Why don't you close your eyes and get some rest. I will return later and we shall play more games."
Larabee's mouth, throat and stomach burned and he wondered what Maguire forced on him to make him feel so sick and cause so much pain internally. He sagged against the bonds once more, a silent cry emanating from his tortured throat. "Help," he rasped weakly.
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Mary sat at her desk looking through old files. She'd known the Millers since she'd moved to Four Corners. The couple were already making planes to rebuild their home. She was searching for an old article written the day they arrived. They were one of the original homesteaders. She smiled as she came across the article about Chris Larabee. 'Bad element,' she thought. 'Not so, Mr. Larabee,' she smiled as she placed the article on top of the ones she'd already searched through, shaking her head when she noticed an article she'd dropped on the floor. She picked up the clipping and placed it on top of the one she'd just looked at.
Mary reached for the next article but something on the paper she'd just picked up caught her attention. The headlines and picture on the clipping caught her eye. She gasped as she realized the man staring up at her from an old newspaper article was none other than Robert Maguire; a little younger but there could be no mistaking who he was. She re-read the headline, knowing this man had wormed his way into their lives. She read the article and rushed out of the newspaper office in search of the peacekeepers. She ran towards Nathan Jackson's clinic ignoring the strange looks people turned her way. She hurried up the stairs and pushed open the door.
Jackson looked up as the breathless woman entered his clinic. "What's wrong, Mrs. Travis?"
"N...Nathan, where are the others?" she asked worriedly.
"Buck and JD are at the jail. Josiah is working at the church. Vin's getting ready to head out. Ezra's probably sleeping and Chris is at his shack," Jackson explained.
"I found this," she passed him the article and watched the shock on his face as he read the terrifying words.
"Come on, Mrs. Travis," he rushed from the clinic in a hurry to find the others and show them Mary's discovery. He ran to the jail calling to Buck and JD.
Dunne looked at Wilmington and rushed to open the door. "What's wrong, Nate?"
"JD, go wake Ezra and meet us at the church," Jackson ordered.
"Why?"
"Just do it, JD," Jackson shouted.
"Buck, I gotta go wake Ez. Nathan wants us all at the church."
"Did he say why?" Wilmington asked as he moved to join the younger man.
"No but him and Mrs Travis were in an awful hurry."
"Alright, Kid, go get him and meet us there," Wilmington said as he hurried after the healer and the newspaperwoman.
Ten minutes later six men and one woman huddled in the tiny church as Mary Travis read the article aloud. She skimmed over the first few lines and skipped straight to the part of the article that sent knife like tendrils of fear into her heart. "Robert Maguire is wanted for the torture deaths of four men. The murders took place near his hometown but went undiscovered until a young couple stumbled over the gruesome scene while riding near Simpson's Crossing. The victims were identified by belongings found nearby. Ronald Parker, Johnny Mercer, Brian Barnes, and Joseph Carter were positively identified by family members and later shipped to their homes for proper burial. The bodies were scored with knife wounds, lash marks and burns, officials state the men suffered over a period of several days. Officials are unsure if Maguire was acquainted with the four men or if they were victims of a random rage. However, they report that the men appeared similar in appearance, all being of the same age, height, build, with blond hair and green eyes. This information was confirmed with the victims' families, who also knew of no known association between the men or with Maguire. Robert Maguire is considered dangerous and there is a reward for his capture dead or alive," Mary finished reading and turned to the six men, waiting for a response.
"I think I'll go check on Chris," Tanner told them, remembering the strange sensation that woke him earlier in the day. The silent cry for help was forgotten in the heated call of fire.
Mary looked back at the article and a shiver of dread ran through her. "You don't think Maguire would..." her voice trailed off as she looked at each man.
"I don't know, Mary, but I aim to find out," Tanner assured her.
"We aim to find out, Brother," Sanchez said leading the way out of the church.
Mary watched the six men hurry towards the livery, "Please, God, keep them all safe," she prayed.
TBC