We had been traveling for most of the day and the sun was about to set behind the ridge carved into the distant mountains. The shadows danced along the landscape smothering us in its deathly veil. It wasn’t a good place to be, isolated and alone in the wild, where the unsightly creatures crawled from their caves and stalked the plains of the living.
The fire burned brightly, a deterrent to the scavengers only served as a beacon to those that preyed on the living. I needed to be careful here, and while Billy Godwin and his old friend lay by the fire, my eyes were open and scanning for shadows that shouldn’t move. Out here, everyone was suspect; even this pair that lay before me.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” the old man asked, breathing raggedly. “You’ve been looking around for hours now.”
“You’ve been awake the whole time?”
“I’m near death, how much sleep do you think I’m really going to get?”
“True enough,” I said, stoking the fire. “What can you tell me about this town we’re headed to?” I don’t like heading blind into a new place.
“You fight demons for a living and you’re scared of some townsfolk, that’s rich,” he wheezed a laugh.”
“I like a man that can laugh in the face of death.”
“We’re headed to a place called… it’s called… hold on, I’ll get it. Oh, yes there it is… it’s called Jamestown! The boy was picked up on the outskirts of Jamestown.”
“Jamestown?”
“No, no, that’s not quite right,” he said with a finger pressed to his lip.
“Jonestown?”
“No… no, it’s not that either,” he continued, “I know I had it….”
“Janestown?”
“That’s it!” the old man clapped his hands. “The town’s called Janestown.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “I remember it as clear as day… at least, I think I do.”
I looked over at the young lad, curled into the saddle blanket for warmth. He hadn’t said a word since being rescued from the feeding den, and while I’d thought the distance would do him some good, it only seemed to further distress the boy. He pawed repeatedly at his matted hair, likely from the traumatic events he’s had to endure, running though his subconscious at a mile a minute. He was young, far too young to have witnessed the things he’s seen. Then again, so was I at his age.
“What was the child doing on the outskirts of the town?” I asked. “Does he have a home there?”
“Beats me,” the old man grumbled. “And I doubt you’ll get much more outta him, either. He’s a good lad, but not much in the way of lively discussion. No sir, not like yours truly.”
“What of the others he was picked up with?”
“Them?” he asked with astonished eyes. “Oh… yes, them! They were a much more talkative bunch, but mostly about survival.”
“They mentioned nothing of how they were captured, or what they were doing on the outskirts of town?” I asked.
“Well, let me see, now,” he mused. “I… I believe that one of the men was grumbling about something… ghouls! Or was that tools?”
I was getting nowhere fast, and this geezer had long since passed his expiration date. “Get some sleep, old man,” I said, pulling my Stetson over my eyes. “You should really get to sleep.”
I didn’t care if some fiend crept upon us; this old fool was driving me mad. Perhaps he would be dead in the morning.
A sudden breath of wind soothed my soul after a long day’s journey. It wasn’t often that I was able to relax and get a good night’s sleep. Who knew, maybe tonight was going to be that one in a million.
“Get some sleep, Horace,” said a voice in the wind. “You should really get to sleep.”