Chapter12: Haunted stagecoach

Outside the cemetery

The monks lead Grace out of the monastery to the open trail. The sky was still covered in darkness with black clouds evaporating the stars along with a thick mist passing through. A few red eyes from somewhere in the dark forest blinked behind from the rustled bushes.

"If you want to go to Ghost Town, you must wait here for the phantom stagecoach. All of them travel there at nighttime." The monk leader advised Grace as the group stopped at a sign labeled Stagecoach Stop. Thanking them for their help out of the catacombs, the monks turned to head back to the monastery for preparations of another tradition.

"How far does that stagecoach often travel?" One of the monks asked curiously.

"They don't stop till they reach their destination; or unless an outlaw gang comes riding their path for a late night robbery," the head monk replied with a cold chuckle.

Stagecoach Stop

As Grace waited for a certain stagecoach to appear, second thoughts began to occur in her mind. Should she take the risk of riding some unknown stagecoach to appear? What if they only stop for dead people? Or what if it is one of those phantom travel destinations where they carry away certain victims to their doom? On the contrary, what kind of stagecoach would even stop to pick up a simple dairy cow on the trail?

"This world is sure like no other I've ever come across," Grace bit her lip nervously staring and listening to the wind blowing across the dead gnarled trees. For some reason however, she was beginning to get used to seeing ghosts around her. Some are scary at first, but that is because they liked to create all kinds of mischief. Grace did not want to show her fear even in this world, yet it was almost impossible. She had landed in so much supernatural trouble along the way a number of times and wondered if she should just walk all they way to Ghost Town or still take the stagecoach for a faster travel.

"I can't walk there on foot even if I wanted to," Grace said seriously. "By the time I reach that place it may be too late. And who knows what will become of my friends." She looked down sadly at her feet. What would become of her friends even after this is over? The witch might somehow trick her into accepting a bargain and yet her friends might still be lost eventually. But there was still no hope of turning back to Pumpkin Hollow to check up on them. Hopefully they were still alright in the den. She had to press forward and find out if Callie would be offering her a deal in exchange for her friends' protection.

Then there came a strange, low rumbling in the air; like the sounds of running feet on the ground breaking like thunder in the sky. The wind howled like a werewolf in the distance. Because of the wind blowing through her face, Grace could not see anything in the misty blackness, but guessed that it would be one of the stagecoaches mentioned by the monks. The orange moon disappeared behind the black clouds. For a moment, Grace wished she didn't have to travel on this stagecoach but then went back to focusing on her mission. She rubbed her head reminding herself to think of returning back home as soon as she somehow gets the witch to agree with her.

Suddenly, she could see four white apparitions of carriage horses rearing up on their hind legs with a wild whinny. Out of the dark came a shining brown stagecoach being pulled by the four phantom horses and stops beside Grace. The driver was a big man wearing denim pants, a long sleeve shirt, a leather vest, boots with spurs, a red bandanna around his neck, and a cowboy hat atop his head. His eyes remained hidden in the shadow of his hat.

"Headin' to Ghost Town?"

Grace nodded fearfully. The driver's voice seemed dark and ghastly. The driver could only smile. His teeth appeared to have a few gold spots twinkling. "Climb aboard," he said. The door opened slowly by itself. Grace climbed into the stagecoach and sat down to look out one of the small windows. The door closed swiftly and the stagecoach drove away.

On the trail

Grace had never traveled inside a train wagon or a stagecoach before in her life since it was intended for people and not animals. But she felt rather safe being in here than outside. Because now she could hear the howling of the cold wind and the high sharp long cry belonging to a werewolf or coyote. Whichever one it was, she was smart enough to know that they were both vicious meat-eating carnivores. Grace began to sweat in hopes of making to Ghost Town alive without a scratch.

"Stay focused now. Think about your friends," she told herself with her eyes closed tightly. Surely there were not enough supernatural beasts out here to come chasing after some old stagecoach now, could there be?

"Never you mind them ol' hungry coyotes now," the driver spoke as if he had been reading her mind. "There ain't enough of them out here to form a pack and come chasin' after a four wheel stagecoach." He still kept his attention to the road as he talked to her. "We don't stop till we reach our destination."

That was a relief; not having to worry about the beasts out in the woods. Still, the red eyes blinking from behind the bushes made her edgy and nervous. She wondered what time it was now. It may as well still be a little after midnight or be close to the crack of dawn. But if it were dawn, then there might have been an orange light rising above the ground. Oh well, Grace didn't really care right now. She lowered herself on the soft cushioned seats for a nice long nap. In fact, she couldn't remember when the last time she fell asleep was.

Still sleeping, Grace wondered if she was still asleep or awake as she imagined being back at Patch of Heaven smelling bluebonnets out in the field with her friends safe and sound. Sleepily she tried to remember the times and stage of her journey, but her memory was tired, drowsy, and uncertain. Especially since she didn't get enough sleep from the start of traveling. The stagecoach kept on going without a halt, riding through lofty hills, sleeping towns, other stagecoach stop signs, dark forests, and distant prairies. She had wondered if Maggie and Mrs. Calloway were still in the den under that sleeping curse she couldn't wake them up from. Or what if something worse happened to them; something she didn't want to know. Grace did not awaken until there came a couple bangs and gunshots from somewhere.

"What, what was that?" Grace rose up in a fright. One of the things she and her friends feared was loud noises from gunshots and thundering hooves coming from below the ground.

"Looks like we got trouble comin' our way!" the rider answered as he struggled to keep the reins steady.

"Trouble, what do you…?" BANG BANG! Grace was cut off by another gunshot in the air. Perhaps the sound of gunshots happening possibly by a bandit would answer her question. Grace ducked down below the cushioned seats shaking with fright. This situation was getting out of hand already. She could feel the stagecoach swing in a curve and then crash up into something hard. The force of the crash caused her to hit the side of the seats with a painful thud. Too scared to look out, she backed up into the corner. She could hear the rider yelling angrily at whoever caused them to crash. But the next things that came after that were a couple of punches and blows. Grace opened one eye to see that the small door had been torn open slightly by a strange man in a black trench coat, shotgun chaps, black gloves, a gun holster, and a black cowboy hat. His eyes gleamed red and half his face was covered in a black bandanna. He reached out and grabbed Grace by the bell to pull her out of the stagecoach. She was thrown next to the rider sitting beside the tree where the stagecoach crashed into.

"Look here boys, we got ourselves a rider and a bovine!" A bandit shouted menacingly. The two victims had been chased by four black riders. It was hard to see their faces due to the fact that everything on them was black. Only their gleaming red eyes stared out from behind their black bandannas. Whether they were alive or dead didn't matter to her. But what could they want?

For a moment, Grace sat frozen by the sight of their appearance. But as soon as she regained her wits, she sat up to charge into one of them. However to her surprise, she actually went right through him as if he were never there. She didn't understand it.

"Ye ain't ever gonna touch us bovine!" the man whom she ran through croaked with mocking laughter as he walked toward Grace to seize her by her blond hair and dragged her back to the tree. "But we can touch you!" The stagecoach rider sat on his knees with his hands placed on his thighs. Grace knew she was defenseless and at the mercy of ghostly bandits.

"Ye don't look like yer from around here aren't ye?" One of them leaned down to Grace and frowned suspiciously. In his right gloved hand, he held a revolver. Grace felt the cold metal steel being placed underneath her chin as the black rider used his revolver to force her head up. "Yer full of flesh n' blood still. No wonder ye can't touch us." His red eyes then caught sight of the glimmering sparkling light crystal around the dairy cow's neck. "I think I'll take this if ye don't mind me doin' so." He snatched it off with a snap.

"Hey wait a minute I…" Grace never got to finish as the man whipped her so her back slammed against the tree. He then seized Grace by the throat in a strong agonizing grip.

"Listen here bovine!" he snarled as he tightened his grip. "Don't even try to be a hero, cause in this town, we run things here. That means no law is gonna stop us from doin' what we want."

"Let her go!" The rider called out.

"Silence two-timer!"

The rider was being held back by the other three bandits. He knew something about Ghost Town that Grace didn't know yet. He could see that her face seemed to be turning pink from the strong grip.

"Yer a mighty purty thing to see, but yer still a weak pathetic newcomer. Ye couldn't put up a fight even if ye wanted to." Grace could feel her head fill with a fiery mix of anger and fear of being strangled. His grip was more powerful and stronger than the guardian of the graveyard. She struggled for air as he kept his tight grip on her throat. "If ye ever try to put a stop to any crime in town, Callie will send ye to an untimely fate worse than death. She's the law of this town and this world; and if ye try to follow us, yer as good as dead, GOT IT!!" Grace could only nod in response to his threat.

"Good!" He said, releasing her neck and rudely slamming her against the tree. Grace coughed and gasped violently after falling on the ground. Lifting herself up, Grace could see that he swung the light crystal in his left hand like a gold watch on a small chain. She was about to protest again until the black rider repeated his threat.

"What did I just tell ye bovine?" he sneered dangerously forcing her to back up against the tree, pointing his finger at her chest. "I said DON'T…BE...A…HERO!" He poked her three more times at the last four words as Grace cringed from hearing him say it. The black riders mounted their spectral horses and galloped off.

"I'd be careful if I were you," the rider walked to help her back on her feet. "The only law in this world is the witch."

"You mean to tell me that there are no lawmen or bounty hunters here to handle thieves like them?" Grace almost couldn't believe what she heard from the rider. That couldn't be possible. The rider shook his head convincingly.

"In this world, heroism is against the law. We either do what Callie orders us to do or else suffer the consequences. And it looks like my stagecoach will take days to repair. You better get on goin'; you don't want the witch catchin' you helpin' me." Grace looked at the stagecoach to find the left side a complete wreck. There was not much she could do to help him since she didn't know anything about how to fix wheels.

"But I can't travel back there on foot. It would take forever."

"You don't have to worry about that, you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it's straight ahead, see." The rider pointed in the middle of the trail. There it stood, Ghost Town. She was almost near the end of her destination after all. But her quest was far from over.