Silver & Bone (American Alchemy - Wild West Book 1) by Oliver Altair

Author:Oliver Altair
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781944099190
Publisher: Striking Books
Published: 2017-09-25T06:00:00+00:00

XVIII

As Tiberius patrolled the graveyard, the silence put his mind at ease. He’d finally escaped the chaotic noise of the past few hours. The quiet cemetery brought him peace. He stayed vigilant, but keeping his eyes open was an extraordinary effort; his energy abandoned him with every step he took.

Tiberius took another stroll around the churchyard. He tiptoed under Father Darley’s ajar window. The priest had asked him to delegate his patrolling, as Tiberius was in obvious need of sleep. Tiberius had refused. He was tired, yes, but the weight of his revolver on his belt reminded him of his mission. He had to protect Lucy. No one would touch her ever again. No one would disturb the sleep of Souls Well’s dead.

Tiberius placed his forehead on one of the church’s walls. He rubbed his hands against the damp moss and wet his face. Tiberius leaned against the cold stone, ignoring the sudden chill creeping down his spine. He lowered his hat and listened to the moaning wind and the chirping crickets.

When Tiberius opened his eyes, the blackness had turned blacker. The flame of his lamp had died, leaving only the gleaming full moon with its dim, satin halo. Had he dozed off? For how long? Tiberius marched towards Lucy’s grave, guided by the moonlight that covered the graveyard.

Tiberius halted. A shadow stood in front of the cross under the pine tree. He ran, but the shadow had seen him coming and was already on the move.

“Stop!” Tiberius shouted.

They raced across the empty graveyard, the distance between the two narrowing as they ran up the cemetery’s hill. The running shadow circled a lonely oak, passed by the miners’ gravestones, then ran through the archway of the unfinished mausoleum. He hastened down the opposite slope, darting erratically downhill as Tiberius pushed his legs to their limit.

Tiberius tackled the intruder like a furious bear. They rolled together down the steep slope, the man fighting Tiberius’ grasp and bellowing like an injured boar. They picked up speed as they tumbled downhill, a blurry knot of arms and legs, before they landed in a puddle of mud. The icy water splashed Tiberius’ face.

Tiberius stood and cursed. He shook his head to clear it, then tapped his holster, exhaling in relief when he felt the smooth touch of the mahogany grip of his Smith & Wesson. He drew, cocked the gun, and pointed it the man laying at his feet. The barrel of his gun gleamed under the bright, gentle moon.

“Don’t move.” Tiberius untied his bandana and used it to quickly dry his face.

“It’s me. Don’t shoot, Sheriff.”

Tiberius recognized the toneless voice. “Whitlock. I should’ve known.”

Obadiah Whitlock stood and dusted off his pants. “I don’t think pointing guns is necessary.”

“I beg to differ. Why did you make me chase you all around the goddamned place?”

“I… I thought you were someone else.”

“Who?”

Obadiah glanced around and said nothing.

Tiberius took a step forward without lowering his gun. Dry twigs snapped and pebbles skittered under his feet. “Why the

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