"Asshole?" Karen called into the vestibule of the church. The only thing she hated more than being around Doc Randy was being with him in his church. She avoided it at all costs.
"Doc, the sheriff needs your help. Several people are hurt back at the bar."
No answer. Bastard was probably drunk, as usual. For a doctor and reverend, he didn't seem to mind partaking; even though he had constantly railed against the sins of Ellis' Saloon and its workers over the years.
Never mind that she knew for a fact that the good doctor had purchased the services of at least two of the women who worked there. Or that he had an illegitimate child of his own. Or that he drank and smoked himself stupid every day.
Karen may have been a prostitute, but at least she accepted her faults. Doctor Randy had convinced himself that he lived without sin, despite all of his vices. How he managed to have a congregation, as small as it was, remained a mystery to Karen.
Stepping into the dark entrance, she let her eyes adjust before walking down the middle of the nave. Because Gehenna was a relatively small town, the church didn't have an abundance of pews – only six on either side of her.
Beyond the front bench, sitting on the floor with his back against the podium, sat the doc. His eternally red cheeks stood out in stark contrast to his otherwise pale skin and bulbous nose. A bottle of some kind lay beside him, tipped over, with most of its dark contents drying on the stone flooring.
"Jesus Christ," Karen said. She knelt down in front of him, unconcerned with her blasphemy. "Wake up, you drunken dolt."
With no response forthcoming, she tapped on his cheeks. After a second she recognized the golden opportunity and cocked her arm back.
With a grin that felt like it spread from ear to ear, she slapped him in the face as hard as she could. The crack echoed through the room, making it all the more fun for her.
The impact sent his body off to the side, landing on top of the bottle. The booze soaked through his black robes and hair. Karen hoped it might make him smell a little better.
"I'm awake!" He rubbed his cheek, which was turning a brighter shade of red. "What'd you have to hit me for?"
Pushing himself back into a seated position, he glared at Karen with a deep-seated disdain.
"How dare you enter this holy place, whore. What are you doing here?"
"Trying my best not to catch on fire," she said. "Though it doesn't look like I'm any more sacrilegious than you are."
Sneering at her, he reached around for his bottle. His shoulders slumped with he noticed that most of it had spilled on the floor.
Karen wondered if she could get away with slapping him again.
"Get out of here and leave me in peace, whore."
"The last place I want to be is here with you. The sheriff sent me down to collect your sorry ass. Some people are hurt back down the street and they need you to look at them."
Judging from his appearance, Karen wasn't sure that he was capable of taking care of a dog right now.
"If you think I'm going somewhere with a filthy—"
"Yes, we know I'm a whore, but your services are needed, as sad and pathetic as they may be."
The doc looked like he was formulating a retort, so Karen decided to appeal to his needs rather than his heart.
"The injured are waiting for you at the saloon. Ellis will most likely be obliged to take care of you while you tend to the wounded."
Randy perked up at that, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Well, if people are in need, the Lord demands I offer my services."
Karen really wanted to slap him again.
"You said 'people'. How many are we talking?"
"At least five, maybe more though."
"Five? What happened to them?"
"Two of them were bit, one was eaten alive, and the others were attacked with arrows, guns, and a tomahawk."
The doc, who was still struggling to get to his feet, stopped and gave her a disbelieving look. "Don't toy with me, heathen. I haven't time to play games."
Karen sighed and looked to the ceiling of the chapel, as if looking for guidance. "Knowing that I can't stand the sight of you, why would I lie, as that would only prolong the agony of your company?"
The doctor smirked as he straightened out his black clothing. "What you're saying doesn't make sense. Two people were bit and one was eaten alive? By what, wolves?"
Turning, Karen started walking back to the entrance. "By two strange men that no one recognized. They were the ones that were shot and axed."
She could hear Randy plodding down the aisle behind her.
"Two men are running around eating people?" he asked. "Your whoredom has rotted your mind."
"No more than booze and stupidity has rotted yours."
While Doctor Randy retrieved his medical supplies, Karen decided to wait outside. Standing in the dusty street, she looked in the direction of the railroad tracks. The rail sat about two hundred yards away, at the end of the town. Squinting against the setting sun, she could see four people walking out of the front door of a brown home.
Staggering was more like it though; they seemed to meander around the street aimlessly. A scream burst through the silence, forcing her nerves back on edge. The voice had come from a home much closer.
The wandering people turned in a slow, jerky manner and plodded in the direction of the scream. Two doors down, a child and an elderly woman emerged from a faded house and teetered in her direction. The entire scene gave Karen an uneasy feeling.
"Let's go, hooker," Doc said from behind her. She jumped at his voice, not realizing how entranced she'd been by the bizarre situation.
"Did you hear that scream? It sounded like a child."
"I didn't hear anything. Let's get going, I need a dri… I mean, people need my help."
Turning around, Karen walked toward the saloon at a brisk pace. Another scream, much closer, gave both of them pause.
"Don't tell me your holy ass didn't hear that?"
"I won't stand for back talk from whores," he said, his voice brimming with indignation. "I heard it, but there are other people that need me first. I'll come back when I've finished at the bar."
When you've finished drinking at the bar, that is, Karen thought.
As they walked back to the saloon, Karen kept looking back over her shoulder, trying to keep an eye on the people behind them.
By the time they arrived, she'd seen more than twenty people crowding into the street. She had a feeling things were about to go from bad to worse.
Chapter 6