THE ONLY EASY DAY IS YESTERDAY
"The Journey of Jeremy Keller"
by OldScout
Part 28Duncan MacLeod walked down the steps into Joe Dawson's
empty bar. The bright mid afternoon sun cast long shadows across the
empty tables. Joe came walking out of the back room after hearing
someone come in.
"Duncan, glad you could drop by." Joe drew a beer and placed it
in front of his friend.
"What's up Joe?" Duncan asked as he sat down and pulled the
drink forward
"Have you ever heard of an immortal named Mandy Wilmont?"
After taking a few sips of beer, Duncan replied "Don't recall her."
Then Joe leaned on the bar some "How about by her given name,
Ophelia."
It took a second for Mac to respond. "You don't mean the
Ophelia I met in Colorado."
"The one and the same."
"Where has she been?"
"Living on a farm, minding her own business." Joe responded.
Duncan looked at Dawson "Something happened?"
"You could say that, a gang of bikers attacked and killed her
grandson and her watcher?" Joe said then got an upset look on his face.
"Her watcher?"
"Yea, Ethal Jordan was her neighbor and was visiting when they
attacked."
Duncan hung his head shaking it. "I'm sorry to hear that. What
about Ophelia?"
Joe had walked around the bar and sat down next to his friend.
"They attacked her, leaving her for dead."
Mac looked Joe in the eyes "So Ophelia's on the hunt?"
"Yep, and there's already been hell to pay. She caught up with
most of the gang the other night. From what I hear, it was not a pretty
sight."
"You said most?"
"We believe there's one left, and she's coming here looking for
him."
Duncan sat back and stared at the mirror behind the bar. It had
been just after the Civil war when he came across Ophelia in the foot
hills....
The foot hills of the Rockies in the fall were a beautiful sight,
the colors of the trees made the land an amazing sight. Duncan rode his
brown horse across the valley following the wisp of smoke he'd seen
since morning. He scratched the three day beard around his goatee and
hoped the smoke was from a small trading post he'd heard of. He had
dropped his razor in a river a few days back and found it very unpleasant
shaving with his knife.
The immortal opened his rawhide jacket then adjusted his wide
brimmed hat higher on his head. The rising sun warmed the valley. It
should be close, the trail he was on was well used and followed the lazy
creek that ran through the valley. When the path widened revealing the
cabin in the distance, Duncan felt something he wasn't expecting,
another immortal. He loosened the katana in its scabbard next to the
Winchester and looked for the other.
Duncan nudged his horse forward toward a blind bend in the
creek. As he approached, a woman stepped out from the brush. She
was average height with short cropped hair, wore tan canvas pants and a
dark blue cotton shirt. The clothes were clean and smooth, still showing
fold marks. She carried a long straight sword and had a knife sheath
strapped to her back.
"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod ." Duncan said in
the thick Scottish accent he often slipped into when facing another
immortal.
"I am Ophelia." the woman said and motioned to the cabin with
her sword. "Do you know this place?"
"Never been here before." Duncan replied and rubbed his beard
"I'd heard there was a trading post here'bouts."
"There's nothing here for you Scot, you best pass by." the woman
then disappeared back behind the brush.
"Wait a minute." Duncan pushed his horse forward to follow.
Around the bend was a small clearing. The woman was already
to her own gray horse and securing her sword. She pulled on her brown
leather jacket and climbed up to the saddle.
"What are you doing here?"
Ophelia turned her spirited horse toward Duncan "Just settling
an old debt." She then pulled the animal around and it leapt into the
thick surrounding woods.
Something didn't seem right. Duncan sat for a minute looking at
the cabin then at the clearing. Laying by the water was something he
hadn't noticed, a pile of clothes. He jumped down and examined the
garments, it looked like pants, a shirt and other things, all were covered
in blood. He then realized the ground and rocks by the creek were
covered with blood. It looked like she must have changed and washed
here. What had happened to her? Duncan looked up at the cabin,
something was very wrong.
On approach, the small cabin appeared normal. A wisp of
smoke continued to rise from the chimney, a curtain fluttered out an
open window and several horses paced around a carrel out back.
Everything else was quiet, dead quiet.
Duncan jumped from his horse and drew his Colt. He climbed
the two steps to the porch and approached the front door. A familiar
smell caught his attention, it was the smell of a battle field. Not of a
modern battle field though, it was the smell of an old killing field. One
where the combatants hacked at each other with swords and axes, back
when the killing was up close and very personal. It was the kind of
stench that stayed with you for days.
The door was standing open slightly as Duncan reached forward
to push it open, he felt his feet sticking to the wooden porch. A thin pool
of blood had seeped out from under the door. Duncan pushed the door
open and leveled his revolver as he did.
The sight nearly made him loose the beans and hardtack he'd
eaten for breakfast. Three bodies hung from the ceiling, he thought they
were human and male, but wasn't sure. Blood and gore were
everywhere, the closest thing he had ever seen to this was a slaughter
house at a stock yard.
Duncan pulled the door shut and backed away. He holstered his
pistol and stepped off the porch. Could that woman be responsible for
this slaughter, how could anybody do that to another creature, let alone a
human?
It didn't take long for Duncan to find some cans of lamp oil in a
shed out back. Soon, the cabin was aflame and Duncan sat on his horse
watching the fire. He didn't have the stomach to go back in and tend to
the bodies, the cabin would have to do as their funeral pyre..........
Duncan turned toward his friend "I looked for her for three
months, but never found any trace. It was if she had dropped of the face
of the earth."
"Not quite," Joe said "She changed her name, got married,
bought a farm and started adopting kids."
"You mean she's been living on a farm since the late 1800's?"
Joe nodded "On and off, she'd leave and wait long enough for
people to believe she was a cousin or somebody, then comeback and
start another family."
"And now she's coming here, looking to settle another debt?"
"It certainly looks like it," Joe agreed then added "and this time,
she has help."
to be continued................