Let Sleeping Gods Lie: A Lovecraftian Gods Horror Story (Cowboys & Cthulhu Book 1) by David J. West

Author:David J. West [West, David J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lost Realms Press
Published: 2019-11-07T22:00:00+00:00

God Loves Fools

Rather than ride back down the trail at night and possibly into another ambush, they stayed that night at the little collection of tepees. First light, Porter was up and he, Mary, and Dawg rode back to Murderer’s Bar. It was a chilly morning with fog rolling in off the river creating an eerie atmosphere across the landscape. Some miners were up and at it already and you could hear gold pans being spun and pickaxes striking stone, but not see any of them.

Porter imagined it might sound like hell, if you threw in a dash of wailing souls.

A figure loomed into view as if the fog had parted for him like water from the keel of a ship. The man just stood there in the path, and Porter reached for his gun. The old man lifted his head and Porter remembered him as the grinning old miner with the penetrating gaze.

“Work still to be done,” said the old man.

“Yup,” answered Porter sullenly, leading his horse around the old man who had still not moved.

As Porter passed him, the old man faced him, looked up, and said, “The stars are gonna be right tonight. You best make things right.”

Porter, puzzled, turned in the saddle to look at the old man again, but he was gone. The early morning fog swirled about the camp, but he doubted the old man could have vanished so suddenly.

“Did you see that old man?” he asked Mary, who was riding up behind him.

“I didn’t see anyone,” she said.

Porter frowned, wondering what the trick of the early morning light had played on his senses.

He cautiously rode up to the Round Tent saloon and was pleased to see it looking unscathed.

“Check it out, Dawg,” he said.

Dawg went forward, stuck his nose in the tent flaps, and went inside. A moment later Jack exited.

“He woke me up. That was a long night. I expected you back a whole lot earlier,” said Jack.

“Meant to be but had a couple run-ins with Stoney’s bunch.”

“Oh? How’d that go?”

“I got all of ‘em except Stoney himself. Then we spoke with Ghost Horn to learn a bit more about the book and such as it is.”

“That what happened to Dawg’s tail?”

Porter grimaced, looking at his dog. “Yep, one of the bastards shot him in the shoulder and took his tail off with another round. I think we used up six of them.”

Jack nodded. “I’d say Stoney might have at least that many more he counts on roundabouts. Maybe more.”

“I reckon so, too. You got any help?”

Jack shook his head and grinned. “I sent Zeke and Boles off to the do the Sacramento run. I think they ought to get back today. Figured I’d spare you the job, things being what they are.”

“Awful risky. What if they get jumped or worse?”

Jack shrugged. “God loves fools. I think they’ll make it back.”

“All right, well, Mary and I are here now, you go on and get some sleep, but keep your shooter handy.”

“I will. Good night.

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