The next morning, Josiah woke to the smell of biscuits in the oven. He climbed out of his guest room bed and washed himself from the water basin set out for him. As he washed his upper body, he could feel his calloused hands run over the tender scar tissue that lined his rib cage and stomach. Each one was a reminder of the hard years spent dispatching Neverrik’s demons back to containment. Would that his life had turned out differently. He dressed himself and grabbed his belongings and headed to the dining area.
“Morning Mr. Stone,” the Reverend greeted. “Breakfast’ll be ready shortly.”
“Smells delicious, Reverend.”
“You got your things packed up?”
Sure do. I’ll be ready to hit the trail soon’s I’m done eatin’.”
After Josiah finished up, he gathered his things and went to the stable to fetch Horse. While he was saddling up, Donnelly came out with a satchel and saddled his horse.
“Got some business of your own, Reverend?” Josiah asked.
“Yup, I’m going with you to the Kansas River.” He responded as he tightened the saddle straps.
“The Kansas? I thought I needed to cross the Missouri River. Either way, there’s no need, Rev. You’ve been plenty a’ help.”
“I insist, Mr. Stone. I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t help you across the River. It’s not far.”
“Suit ya’self, Rev. It’d be nice t’ have the company.”
The two trotted off to the Kansas River.
Once they reached the river, they could see the ferry carrying a wagon away to the Kansas Territory. Reverend Donnelly dismounted and started rumaging through his satchel.
“What ‘er ya doin’, Rev?” asked Josiah.
“Getting ready.”
“Fer whut?”
Just as Josiah finished his question, a giant wave overtook the ledge of the river. The passersby gasped and scurried away from the docks. Donnelly and Josiah were the only one’s that didn’t run away. The mound of water that splashed on the dock pooled together and began to rise in the form of an aquatic woman. She stood about ten feet tall. A white mist formed an image of hair. Her feminine form was loosely covered by sea foam serving as a white tunic. When she spoke, her voice sounded like a waterfall that made syllabic utterances. Whenever she pronounced b’s and p’s, a spray of water would shoot forward.
“How dare you Observers try and cross me! I control the waterways in this land.”
“Back you foul water sprite,” Josiah commanded as he pulled out his Colt and fired it. The bullet passed through the demon and continued on across the river, hitting a tree on the other side.
“You’re weapons are useless against me, Warrior. I’ve yet to be conquered by your kind.”
“Yeah! Maybe you’ll think twice after I hack you to pieces,” Josiah replied pulling out his saber. As he raised it to charge, Donnelly grabbed his upraised arm and stopped him.
“Steel and lead are useless against her.”
Josiah turned toward the priest just as a gush of water slammed into both men, knocking them off their horses. The water that soaked their clothes began to compress around them, squeezing their bodies like they were deep in the sea.
“I don’t see why my fellow demons fear you Observers so much. You’ll be my second and third kill this decade.”
“Not so fast, Sedna,” Donnelly said. “Do you really think water can crush the life out of an Observer.” The priest pulled a leather bag out of his satchel and sprinkled salt on his chest. The watery grip was broken. He stood up and sprinkled some on Josiah as well. Both men then stood to face the water demon.
Sedna paused, “What is that? How could you break my hold? The last Observer had no defense against me.”
“That’s because the last Observer was a young initiate. He didn’t know what tools to use,” Donnelly answered.
Josiah stood there trying to understand everything. “What in tarnations is going on here, Rev.?”
“Nothing much. Sedna here is about to be subdued,” he replied nonchalantly.
“You fool!” Blurted out the water demon. “I’ll wash you to the bottom of my river and see your precious air escape you.” Two watery tentacles came out of Sedna’s sides and quickly approached the two men. Donnelly quickly reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of salt. He threw the mineral right at the body of water. The fine crystals sparkled in the air before they landed on Sedna. The pitch of the demon’s watery voice heightened as the feminine body began to solidify. Within seconds the water demon turned into a motionless sculpture of a woman made of salt, her face screaming in agony.
“What’d ya do t’ that blam-jammed demon, Rev?”
“I immobilized her.”
“Like t’ cut me in on that bit o’ info?”
“It’s simple, with normal demons, your weapons will work. It’ll be tougher if they’re bonded with Indian magic. It’ll take persistence. But with elemental demons, you need a blessed version of their opposite elements. Holy water can bless most elemental items. Naturally occurring minerals work great with demons like Sedna. I stuffed a bag of exorcised salt into your luggage. I’m sure the Kansas River isn’t the only one you’ll need to cross. Now you’d best be getting on that next ferry. Once water dissolves the statue, Sedna will be back and hungry for revenge.”
“Thanks for everything, Rev.”
“I hope you get your demon and sleep in peace afterwards.”
Josiah tipped his hat and mounted his horse. As he turned toward the approaching ferry, Donnelly called out, “One more thing.” Josiah turned and saw the reverend toss him a coin. He promptly caught it. “For the ferry. See you on the return trip, Warrior.”
“Yup.”
Reverend Donnelly watched as Josiah rode onto the ferry and tossed the ferryman his coin. Josiah turned back once more and tipped his hat to the priest. Donnelly waved, mounted his horse and rode back to his farm to prepare the bread for communion.
____________________________________________________________________________
Josiah walked Horse off the ferry into the Kansas territory. He felt odd. The atmosphere just on the other side of the river seemed unrestricted. It was as if the river represented the end of the American Government’s legal system. Josiah felt the difference. He also felt the disorder and lawlessness of the untamed land.
Dark clouds rolled in with a low rumbling thunder. Josiah looked back and saw the salt statue on the distant shore. He tugged on Horse’s reins and let him away from the river’s edge. Once he was at what felt like a safe distance, he turned around and watched as the rain poured down on the other side of the river. He noticed the raindrops that hit the statue of Sedna produced a black cloud. The more the rain came down, the bigger the cloud became. After a few moments the black clouds shivered and exploded into darkness over Kansas City. Within seconds, Josiah felt and heard a Thump! The shockwave of Sedna bursting out of her prison, though weakened, reached Josiah. “Bad cess t’ her!”
Josiah mounted his horse and rode West. After what felt like a day’s worth of riding, Josiah finally escaped the rain clouds around the river. He happened upon a team of pikes resting from their trek.
“Care if I join ya’ fer the evenin’?” Asked Josiah.
An older man raised his head to peer at the rider from under the brim of his worn hat. “Sure thing, but get a wiggle on, food don’t last long in this camp.” he slurred through his thick gray mustache as he reached up and scratched his whisker laden cheek.
“Thank ya’ kindly.” Josiah dismounted his horse and sat on a stump around the campfire.
The grease belly of the camp offered him a bowl of bean soup flavored with bacon and a wooden spoon. Josiah began to eat.
“What brings you to the Kansas Territory?” slurred the man with the stache. “You a pilgrim?”
“Not quite,” said Josiah. “I’m trackin’ a fugitive o’ the law.” He ate another spoonful.
“You a Marshal? I don’t see no badge.” replied ‘Stache before he took a bite.
“Not exactly.” Josiah started to feel as if he were being interrogated.
A young blond man from the camp who’d just received his portion and sat down blurted out, “You’s a bounty hunter!” He was excited. “Well, Gol dern. We ain’t never seen no bounty hunter up close…”
“Still that wobblin’ jaw ya’ blazin’ boot-licker.” ‘Stache cut the boy off. “Can’t ya’ see you’re sourin’ his milk?”
The boy bowed his head in embarrassment. “Sorry, Sir. I got too worked up.”
“Pardon ma’ boy. He’s taken a fancy to them penny dreadfuls. He’s scoured the general stores since Ohia lookin’ for the newest issues. Got up in his mind that bounty huntin’s a glorious life. Sorry for the imposition. T’s none o’ ma’ business what yer out fer.”
“S’not a problem. Ma’ job’s ta’ bring proper justice one las’ time ‘for I hang up ma’ fiddle.” Josiah took another bite.
‘Stache took another bite. “Name’s Buford. Buford Smith. I’m happy ta’ let ya tag along as fer as ya like Mr….”
“Stone. Josiah Stone. I greatly appreciate the offer.”
“Where ya’ headed Mr. Stone?”
“Last I heard, my next stop is Dodge City. And you can call me Josiah.”
“Well Dang ma’ melt!. Dodge City’s a two week ride from here. Looks like our ways’ll be partin’ in a week. We’re headin’ up ta’ Oregon.”
“It’s mighty kinda ya ta let me join ya. I’ll be more’n glad to keep a lookout with yer guys. By the way, you fellas got any base burner?”
Grease belly let out a hefty laugh, “Heh, we got’s the finest corn likker from Kansas City. Try this out.” He handed Josiah a shot of whiskey and poured one for Buford.
“Happy Trails, Josiah.”
“Here’s how!” Both men took the shot. The coarse liquor burned all the way down. They winced and exhaled through their noses. Then Josiah noticed a motion around the side of a wagon and looked over. It was a beautiful young lady gathering some sausage for the lady’s meal.
The young blond boy noticed Josiah’s long gaze and turned red. “This ain’t no Bed-house and there ain’t no bed-fagots here, Mr. Stone.”
Josiah looked over at the angry boy.
“Consarnit, Joseph, shut yer big bazoo.” Buford smacked the boy with his hat. “First it’s ‘Bounty hunter’s are so heroic,’ Then you wanna beef our guest.”
“But he was eyen’ Jesse.”
“Jesse ain’t yer lady, not matter how much you fancy ‘er. Besides, he’s just battin’ his eyes.” Buford turned to Josiah. “Ain’t ya?”
“Burford, ta be honest, I just saw a motion outta the corner o’ ma’ eye an’ turned t’ see. Didn’t realize it was a girl till Joseph threatened ta’ biff me.” Then after a pause, “Ridin’ alone fer so long’s got me extra aware of unexpected motions.”
“I hear ya’ there, Josiah.”
The men around the camp chatted while they picked their sleeping arrangements. After a few more shots of whiskey, Josiah caught a whiff of rotted meat. He looked toward the breeze and saw some bushes rustling.
“Scuse me, men,” Josia rose from the camp and headed toward the bushes a ways from the camp. He mimicked relieving himself as he loosened his whip. Then he blurted out, “What’re you doin’ here ya’ foul demon?”
The creature in the bush was startled and tried to dart away. Josiah was quick with the whip, though unaccustomed to it. He lashed it out and caught the creature by the ankle. It screamed in pain and fell to the ground.
It was a child-sized demon dressed in a loincloth with black skin. It’s head was a skull with hollow black eyes. It growled as white smoke rose from the whip-lashed ankle. It scurried and tried to free itself from the whip. Every time it touched the whip, it’s fingers started smoking as well. “How can you see…What is this…Aaarrgh!
“I’ll make this real simple for you, putrid filth,” Josiah started as he pulled out his Colt. “Tell me what I want and I don’t send you t’ containment.”
“Whatever! Anything! Just get this off me!” screamed the demon as it shook its leg. “What do you want?”
“Tell me where Skalda is.”
“So you’re the Observer. You’ll never make it to Skalda. Our pact with the Natives of this region is strong. And they have come to loathe your white skin. They’ll be glad to bark you good…Ouch!” Josiah tugged the whip hard, dragging the demon closer. He stepped on it’s chest with his heel, rolling his consecrated spur along its abdomen, small puffs of white smoke rising.
“Answer the blazin’ question,” Josiah commanded, his tired voice gutteral.
“Word has it, Skalda’s on his way to El Paso. It’s just a short trip to Mexico from there, far beyond Neverrik’s territory.”
“Not if I get there first. Now move along you filthy guttersnipe.” Josiah flicked his wrist and unleashed the demon, who immediately started rubbing its ankle
“Be warned, Josiah Stone. If you go further, you will die.”
Since the demon was still in reach, in a flash of motion, Josiah pulled his machete and cut the demon’s hand off that was nursing it’s wound. “Shut yer cockholster and mizzle outta here. And leave yer hand. That’s ma’ souvenir.”
The demon scurried away. Josiah pulled out a small knapsack and put the hand in it. He pulled out a small cigar and lit it. By the light of the glowing embers, he opened the bag and looked in. To the naked eye, it looked like some small twigs fastened together to look like a skeletal hand. He wrapped it up and stuffed it in his pocket. He sat against a nearby stump and finished his cigar.
When Josiah returned to camp, Buford was the only one not sitting around the campfire listening to the drunken songs. “Took ya’ long enough.”
Josiah exhaled, “Backdoor Trots.”
“That’s the problem with ole’ Bean Master’s cookin’. If ya ain’t accustomed to it, it’ll ruin ya. Should’a warned ya.”
“T’s nothin’. Man’s gotta eat. Say Buford. You mind if I catch a wink. Been a long day ridin’ solo and my recent endeavor’s made me mighty tired.”
“By all means, Josiah. I’ll take the first watch and wake ya for the next.”
Josiah settled down by one of the wagons, away from the campfire songs and sauntered off to sleep.