Demon's Pass by Ralph Compton

Author:Ralph Compton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

With the Springer-Stanley freight party

Clay held up his hand and the wagons behind him stopped.

“What is it?” Parker asked.

Clay pointed. “Buzzards.”

It wasn’t uncommon to see one or two of the scavengers making long, slow circles in the sky. But here was a whole flock of them, gathered as thick as blackbirds.

“A dead coyote, maybe?” Parker suggested.

Clay shook his head. “Too many for a coyote. Too many for a person even, unless there’s more than one.”

“Well then, what do you think it is?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Want me to ride over there and see what it is?”

Clay shook his head. “No,” he said. “We’ll all check it out together.”

With another hand signal, the wagons started forward. Ten minutes later they crested a small rise and saw, for the first time, what was drawing the buzzards. Scattered piles of blackened ash, half a wheel here, a tongue there, fire-rusted iron, and bits of charred canvas were all that remained of the Conestoga and freight wagons that once made up the Reynolds party.

But it wasn’t the wagons that had drawn the buzzards. They were feasting with relish on the mules, dead in their harness, and what was left of the men, women, and children, their bodies black and bloating in the sun.

“My God,” Marcus said. “It’s Reynolds and his bunch!”

“That there is the little Reynolds girl,” Tobin said, pointing to a lump on the ground.

Just as Tobin pointed out Sue’s body, a buzzard spread his wings to halt his descent over the dead young girl.

“No! Get away from her!” Parker shouted. Before he realized what he was doing, he drew his pistol and fired at the buzzard. The buzzard fell to the ground, frantically flapping its wings a few times before it died. It all happened so quickly that Parker didn’t even realize he had drawn and fired his pistol just as Jason had taught him.

Clay put his hand out toward Parker. “Put the gun away, son,” he said sympathetically. “You can’t kill them all. Besides, they’re just doin’ what God intended them to do.”

Marcus set the brake on his wagon, then climbed down and started walking toward the bodies, carrying a shovel. A moment later Jason started toward the bodies with his own shovel, then Pecorino, and finally Tobin, the wound in his shoulder nearly healed by now.

“You goin’ to help bury them, or are you just goin’ to sit there?” Clay asked.

It was all Parker could do to get the words out. “I’ll help,” he said.

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