Seeing is Believing

By Bakerj

Chapter One

A charging bear couldn’t have startled Joe more than Hoss erupting through the trees.  His mouth dropped open.  In his arms, his brother carried a woman.  

Hoss stampeded toward their horses.  “Mount up!  We’ve gotta go.”

Without a word, Joe ran to grab Cooch.  Everything about his brother said ‘trouble’ was on his heels.

***

“We gotta stop!” Joe yelled, and again Hoss shook his head.  “Hoss.  Chub needs to rest.”

“Keep going.  We can’t risk them catching up.”

Joe scanned the disappearing terrain.  The landscape behind them lay quiet and serene, their galloping horses the only movement.  He hadn’t seen a sign of anyone.  Not when they raced away from the stand of trees they’d been marking for felling, and not now.  

He shot another glance at Hoss.  Eyes fixed ahead, mouth drawn in a tight line, shoulders forward, and back stiff, his brother powered Chubb on and showed no signs of easing.  The horse had been running flat-out for almost two miles carrying two riders, and foaming sweat flecked his heaving chest.  Joe pursed his lips and edged Cochise over.

“We’ve gotta stop.  Chubb can’t keep this up.”

“No!”

What the heck?  This wasn’t like Hoss.  But Joe wasn’t taking no for an answer!  Catching Chub’s rein, he hauled both horses to a halt.

“Get your hand off!”

Joe stared into the angry face.  “What’s the matter with you?  You’re killing Chub.”

Hoss looked down at his panting horse.  His grip on the reins relaxed.  Finally, he seemed to be listening.

“Okay.”  Looking around, Hoss pointed through the trees to a creek.  “We can camp there.”

The woman cradled in his arms moved.  Curving away to see Hoss’ face, she spoke, and Joe caught the urgency in her voice, “We can’t stop.”

“Sorry, ma’am.  But Joe’s right.  I’ll get you where you need to be, don’t worry.”

Joe’s curious gaze ran over the woman.  She seemed young, but he couldn’t see much from under the hood of her cloak.  Chubb turned, and he followed, keen to get answers to the questions that plagued him.

***

Chapter Two

“Look, explain it to me again ‘cause I don’t get it.”

“I told you.  She were being attacked.”

“But who were they?  What were they doing out here?”

While he filled his canteen, Hoss kept checking on the woman sitting on his bedroll.  Joe couldn’t understand why Hoss was being so cagey.  It wasn’t every day his brother rescued a girl.  If it was him, he’d tell the story to anyone who’d listen.

Hoss flicked him an impatient look.  “It don’t matter.  All that matters is I rescued her, and she’s safe.”

“Fine.  But what did you mean you’d get her to where she needed to be?”

“It ain’t important.”

“But—”

“Drop it!”

Hoss stomped away to offer the girl a drink.  Joe slammed the stopper of his canteen home.  Maybe she could give him answers?

“Hi.  I’m Joe.”  He took a step back from the hostility in her gaze.  Pulling himself up, he stood his ground and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Maga.”

“Who were the men who attacked you, Maga?”

“Why?”

“Well, did you know them?  Are they gonna come after you?”

“Joe.  I told you to drop it.  Maga’s been through enough.  She don’t need your questions.”

Joe rolled his eyes and watched Hoss walk away toward the horses.  What was wrong with asking the obvious questions and wanting answers?

He glanced back at Maga.  Her eyes stopped him in his tracks.  Except for the golden lights that flickered at their edges, they were a deep, fathomless black.  Mesmerized, he watched the lights begin to dance and grow brighter.  His head started to swim as an abyss opened before him.  He plunged toward it.  A horse whinnied.  Startled, Joe stepped back, breaking their gaze.

“I’ll go help, Hoss,” he stammered and wiped away the sweat on his forehead.

He scurried to his saddle, fighting the sense of panic and need for distance from her.  Untying the ax he’d used for marking trees, he headed out to collect firewood.

***

The ax swung again, its honed edge burying into the wood.  Around him, the signs of the changing seasons revealed themselves.  The leaves of the Aspens showed off their russet colors of fall.  Flowers had closed, retreating to sleep out the winter, and squirrels busied themselves, preparing for the oncoming snows.  The world was the same, but something felt different, out of place, as if he teetered on the edge of a cliff.  The crack from the tool he wielded bounced off the trees and snapped through the air.  Each stroke slammed with determination, cut deeper into the fallen branch, and sliced through the unpleasant feeling curling around his insides.  Joe figured they were stuck with Maga, but so what?  Why did the idea bother him so much?

Gathering the chopped wood, Joe straightened.  The hazy orb of the orange sun sunk toward the horizon, taking the warmth of the day with it.  A fire would be welcome.

Despite the chill, Maga had discarded her cloak revealing the plain, grey homespun dress that fit her slender figure in all the right places.  Raven tresses shrouded angular bony shoulders.  She was both young and pretty, but something about her repelled him.  He’d never reacted this way to anyone, let alone a woman, and it made him uncomfortable.  Yet he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling.

“Pa ain’t gonna be happy we didn’t finish the job.”

Hoss shrugged.  “He won’t mind once he knows about Maga.”

Joe had to agree.  He struck again at the flint held next to the kindling before glancing back at the silent figure.  “Those men rough her up bad?”

The blank look on his brother’s face puzzled Joe.  Slowly Hoss’ hands formed into fists, and the dark look that came whenever he encountered cruelty descended on his face.  “Yeah.  That’s right, they did.  It weren’t right.  Hitting and pushing around a little thing like Maga.”

Joe bit his lip and looked at the girl again.  For someone who’d been mishandled, where were the signs?  Not a bruise or a scratch on that chalk-white skin.  His gaze ran over those smooth locks, not even a hair out of place.

“You ever gonna get that fire going?”

Pulled back to his task, Joe shot Hoss a quick smile and pushed his concerns away to concentrate.

***

Chapter Three

Hunched over his plate, Hoss ate in silence.  Joe wondered about the change in his talkative, affable brother.  Ever since he returned with Maga, he’d been acting like a different person.  The story they’d told him didn’t ring true, and the suspicion he was being lied to, like a greenhorn being sold a lame horse, wouldn’t leave.  But why?  Why would Hoss make up something like that?  With Maga there, it was impossible to ask.  Her presence felt like a wound between them that couldn’t be touched.

When Hoss took the dishes to the creek, Joe followed, seeing it as his chance to talk.  Sloshing their tin platters in the water, he watched Hoss do the same with the pot. Hoping to lighten the mood, he said, “My cooking ain’t improving.  We’ll hav’ta talk Hop Sing into coming with us next time.”

To Joe’s relief, Hoss chuckled.  “Imagine Pa’s face if he weren’t there to make him breakfast.”

Joe gave a mock shudder.  “Yeah.  I’d rather eat my beans.”  They both laughed.  Glad to see Hoss relax, he ventured his next question.  “Don’t you think it’s strange that Maga didn’t get bruised?”

“Huh?”

“Well, for someone who got beat up the way you said, she’s not gotta mark on her.  Don’t you think that’s—”

Hoss lurched and grabbed Joe’s collar to pull him onto his toes.  Cut off, Joe yelped and gaped into eyes that glittered with fury.  Their faces almost touched, and the shadows from the dusk deepened the angry lines marring his brother’s face.  Joe swallowed, for the first time unsure what Hoss might do.

“You calling me a liar?”  Hoss didn’t wait for an answer.  With a flick of his wrist, he shoved Joe away.  Joe toppled back and landed in the creek.  Freezing water hit his skin with an intensity that drove the air from his lungs and soaked his pants and coat.  “Stop questioning me about Maga.  I helped her, that’s all.  If that ain’t good enough for you, ride out and camp somewhere else!”

“Hoss — wait!”  But Joe called out to empty space. 

Worry now piled on top of his questions.  His brother had always been a man who took the long road to losing his temper.  What was going on?

After hauling himself out of the icy water, Joe collected the scattered dishes and squelched back to camp.  He flung a resentful look at his brother.  “That weren’t funny.  You got me all wet.  I could freeze to death.”

Grabbing some lumps of wood, Hoss tossed them on the fire.  “There.  Now quit your whining.”

Joe scowled and started to strip off his sodden clothes.  When he got down to his drawers, he turned to reach for his blanket to preserve his modesty and jumped.  At the firelight’s edge, Maga stood watching him.  With her cloak wrapped tight around her sinewy frame, she appeared almost one with the blackness.  Only her waxen skin shone in the firelight and the gold of those eyes that gleamed like an animal’s. 

More than the cold made him shiver, and he rubbed himself warm with the blanket before spreading his pants and long johns to dry.  By the time he huddled beside the fire, Maga’s scrutiny burned the back of his neck.  He turned and asked, “Something wrong?”

“No.”  Joe almost recoiled at her smile, but at least she slunk back to the fire.  Settling on the blanket, she asked Hoss.  “You’re sure we’ll reach the town tomorrow?”

“Town?”

Maga ignored his question.  “And there are lots of people there?”

Hoss nodded, “Virginia City is chock full of people.”

Joe looked from Maga to Hoss.  “But we’re heading home tomorrow, right?”  He winced, hearing the desperation that seeped into his question.

Hoss poked the fire.  “You can.  I promised Maga I’d take her to Virginia City.”

“You can do that later.  Let’s get home first.  Tell Pa what’s happened.”

“You can do that.”

“But Pa will want to meet Maga.”

Maga’s hand drifted to Hoss’ arm.  “There’s no time.”

Joe strained to hear her words, spoken softly for Hoss’ ears only.  Baffled, he asked, “What d’you mean?”

When Maga turned to him, Joe shifted and looked away, avoiding her gaze.  Her hand closed around his brother’s arm.  The stick Hoss held between his fingers snapped.  “I’m taking Maga to Virginia City, and there ain’t nuthin’ to talk about.”

Joe dragged his blanket tighter, hunched a shoulder at the pair, and threw himself down against his upturned saddle.  If Hoss didn’t want to tell him what the heck was going on — fine!  He’d had enough.

***

Chapter Four

The penetrating cold reached into Joe’s mind and pulled him awake.  One eye cocked open to see the dying embers of their fire.  Grumbling to himself, he sat up.  Hoss must’ve forgot to stoke it.  With a look of irritation at his brother’s sleeping form, Joe grabbed wood off the pile and tossed it onto the fading pyre.  Sparks spiraled into the sky and lit their camp.  The sudden glow revealed an empty place.  He looked up to see Maga’s thin form fading into the trees.

Most likely, she was slipping away to take care of personal business, but this was a dangerous area to wander alone at night.  Someone needed to go after her and see she didn’t get into trouble.  He pondered, waking Hoss.  But with the mood big brother was in, Joe thought better of it.

He twitched his blanket back and followed in the direction he’d seen Maga go.  Moving to the edge of their camp, Joe halted, allowing the dark to pull back and the moonlight to take over.  The welcome glow of their fire receded as he moved further into the forest.  Why would she go this far to pee?

Around him, the silence and trees pressed in.  Above their swaying heads, the moon snatched chances to punch its brilliance through the heavy canopy.  Its light played with the shadows and shimmered against the trees in silvery pools.

He spotted Maga ahead and opened his mouth to call her name.  The word died unspoken.  Her gliding form moved with purpose deeper into the woods.  Curiosity aroused, he decided to keep his presence unknown.  Staying low, he crept behind her and didn’t hesitate to follow when she broke through the tree line and moved out into a clearing.  When she stopped, he dropped to the ground.

The moonlight lit the space and rippled in soft waves over the raven hair of the unmoving girl.  Anticipation sang within Joe, and he quivered like a bowstring.  What happened next made him gasp.  Undoing the buttons of her dress, she drew it off her shoulders to let it gather at her feet.  Underneath, she wore no camisole, petticoats, or drawers, and the move exposed her nakedness.  Breasts and buttocks glimmered as moonbeams caressed her skin in soft puddles.  Joe dropped his gaze, and shame castigated him for spying on her.  But how could he know she’d strip buck naked?  Uncertainty washed through him.  He squirmed at the trouble he was in.  Revealing his presence would mortify her.  But would there be any chance of sneaking back to the tree line without being spotted?

Before he could decide, Maga’s fingers went to work again.  This time they dug into the flesh at her collarbone.  The hairs on the back of Joe’s neck rose.  His breathing quickened.  The same way he’d skin a rabbit, she peeled off her skin.

Joe’s eyes squeezed shut.  This couldn’t be happening.  People can’t — don’t remove their skin!  He had to be dreaming.  That was it, a dream.  The dark pushed back the shock.  His mind calmed as his breathing slowed.  The woody, acrid smoke from the fire tingled his nostrils, and the warmth radiated off his cheek.  Rhythmic snores from his brother mingled with the wind that feathered through the treetops.  He was still in camp, and this was just a dream.  

Then he opened his eyes.

At her feet lay the pale mask Maga had removed.  In its place, cadaverous tissue, slick like decaying mushrooms, stretched tight over bone and sinew.  Long, spine-like claws dripped toward the ground from the fingertips of a creature that resembled a human in shape alone.

His stomach lurched, and he swallowed the fear that rose in his throat.  The wind shivered through his hair, tightening his scalp.  He dug his fingers deep to burrow out of sight, releasing the pungent scent of pine, earth, and rotting organisms.  When he flattened further, twigs pushed their sharp prongs through his pants into his flesh.  The snap of one brought Maga’s head around. 

Predatory eyes scoured the clearing.  Maga (could he even call it that?) dropped to all fours.  Elbows and knees splintered out into the dark at piercing angles.  Joe’s eyes widened when the creature moved.  Jerking so fast from one place to the next, he didn’t see it leave the last.  It was like the phantasmascope he’d seen in San Francisco that took a picture of a horse and made it run.  The entity jolted like the images did when the carousel first turned before it blended into fluid movement.  Every judder brought the nightmare closer.

“Stay put.  Don’t fly like a duck and give yourself away.”  His brother’s words raced around his head, fighting his instinct to run.  He clung on and pushed himself flatter.  Cold sweat slivered down his spine.  Taut muscles trembled from the tension, but like one of Medusa’s statues, he lay frozen.

The creature stopped.  The silence that hung in the air was total.  Joe thought it couldn’t help but hear the thud of his heart against his chest, so hard his ribs hurt.  Maga crouched lower, and the air thickened until he could taste the malevolence.  When the tips of her flowing mane touched the ground, a breath of horror shuddered over his lips.  Long fingertips like black molasses bled out to spread over the ground, engulfing the earth and swallowing the light.

He pressed his cheek hard into the bracken and shut his eyes.  The movement from beneath made him open them.  Beside him, the undergrowth heaved.  He shifted his hands.  Under and over them, every bug imaginable scuttled and scurried.  Spiders’ delicate legs fluttered over his skin in their stampede to evade the expanding blackness, which clawed closer and closer.  Joe hitched his breath.  Inches away, any moment, the probing tips would discover him.  Then — they stopped.

Nothing stirred in the clearing.  No sound whispered on the breeze to indicate a living soul lay hidden or something else crouched motionless and waiting.  Only silent prayer echoed in the heart of one, but it didn’t disturb the aching stillness.

The ink-black fingers retracted.  Finally, Joe dared to lift his gaze.  When the spectral form receded, it took with it the foulness that had permeated the air.  Joe filled his lungs and waited to be sure Maga wouldn’t return.

He crawled back to the trees.  Pine needles shifted and dug into his palms with every inch won with low, cautious movement.  Once under their cover, he stood.  Then he turned and bolted for camp.  

***

Chapter Five

“Hoss!  Wake up.  We’ve gotta go.”  Joe grabbed Hoss’ shoulder when he protested and tried to swot him away.  “C’mon.  We gotta leave.  Now!”

Hoss sat up.  “What’s going on?  Where’s Maga.”

“That’s why we’ve gotta go.  It’s Maga!  She’s – I don’t know what she is, but she sure as hell ain’t human.”

“What?  Joe, you ain’t making sense.”

Joe was grateful that despite his protest, Hoss stood.

“Don’t ask questions.  Just believe me.  We gotta go.”

Hoss nodded.  Thanking God that big brother wasn’t arguing, Joe turned.  Eyeball to eyeball with him was Maga.

Palms slammed his chest, lifting him off the ground to send him flying across their camp.  Before he could recapture the breath knocked out of him, Maga pinned him down.  Rapier-like nails punctured his coat, and her lips drew back over jagged fangs.

Joe ripped his gaze from the terror that loomed over him to his brother, who stood motionless watching.  “Hoss!”

Twisting her neck in a way no human should, Maga laughed.  “He won’t help you.  He’s mine.  He’s taking me to the people.  But you, I don’t need.”

Hoss hadn’t moved, and Joe gave up on any help.  Under his coat, ice-cold fingers fumbled for his colt.  “What are you?”

“The last thing you’ll ever see.”

The teeth plunged toward his neck.  Joe’s fingers squeezed.  Point-blank, he fired into the creature’s chest.

Maga toppled forward.  Shouldering her aside, Joe freed himself and scrambled to his feet.  The hand that wiped his top lip shook so hard it barely made contact.  He staggered over to Hoss.  His brother stared at nothing, and Joe gave him a shake. 

“C’mon, buddy.  You’ve gotta snap out of this.”

The relief when Hoss looked at him disintegrated when his brother’s gaze shifted and focussed on something behind him.  Alarms clanged through Joe’s head like the sirens from a mine cave-in.  He swung around.  Not fast enough.  Hurled aside, he landed on the fire.  Flames engulfed him.  He kept rolling, scattering the woodpile before coming to a stop.

In a blur of obsidian, the creature pounced.  Joe’s muscles cracked, holding the vile, seething mass at bay.  He wanted to turn from the blazing eyes that burrowed into his head and the breath that tore the back of his throat with its foulness.  Hope drowned in fear.  Without help, he was going to die.

“Get off him!”  

Freed from the assault, Joe looked into his brother’s blue eyes.  His heart leaped.  Hoss was back!  

The creature swirled around, and Joe yelled a warning.  Too late, it sprang and toppled Hoss to the ground.  Joe reached for his gun but halted.  A bullet hadn’t killed it before.  Why would it now?  

He scrambled to his feet and almost tripped over the handle of the ax left by the wood pile.  Snatching it up, he buried the weapon into the writhing back of the creature.

A shriek split the air.  The creature’s arms thrashed, but it couldn’t dislodge the ax.  Then it swiveled.  Joe staggered away from the contorted face that fixated on him.  The world tilted when he caught a log with his heel and tumbled backward.  Like a spider towards its prey, the monster advanced.  Joe pulled his gun to have it knocked aside.  Silence embraced their camp when Maga hung suspended over him.  She smiled to relish her victory.  His chest heaved, and his fingers groped for a weapon — anything he could use.  They closed around the burning bough like a falling man clutching a ledge. 

They both moved at once.  Joe drove the torch into the monster’s face.  He hadn’t expected much and what happened next horrified him.  The flame erupted, engulfing the creature.  Sitting up, Hoss stared back at him.  Together they watched whatever Maga had been combust before them.  

In a few seconds, nothing but ash remained.

***

Chapter Six

Pa looked at them with bemused anxiety and Adam with open skepticism, but they were determined to finish their story.

They’d packed and left the camp, arriving home disheveled and still spooked.  It wasn’t until they’d washed up, climbed into clean clothes, and eaten that they’d settled down enough to tell their tale.  

Joe recounted his part while Hoss looked on with a frown before adding, “All I remember were checking the trees, and then, there she was.  Those big eyes of hers staring at me.  After that, it was like sleepwalking.  I could hear myself talking, but I had no control.   Little Joe, I’m sorry.”

Joe waved a dismissive hand.   They’d already had this out on the ride back.  “I told you, forget it.  I just wish I knew what she was and where she’d come from?”

“I can think of one solution.  You know what the night before last was, don’t you?”  The intensity on Adam’s face caught their complete attention.  Entranced, they sat forward to listen.  “All Hallows Eve.  The night when the veil between our world and that of ghosts and ghouls is at its thinnest.  A time when dark creatures can break through to wander the earth.  Ravaging it at their will and consuming the flesh and souls of men.”

The words uttered with spectral emphasis turned both men pale.  

“You don’t think?”

Joe shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Whatever she was, she sure didn’t come from around here.”

Adam rolled his eyes, shut his book, and got up.  “I prefer to listen to Edgar Allan Poe’s advice, ‘Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.’  You two idiots should try doing the same.”

“Now, wait a minute.  You saw our coats.  They were clawed to ribbons,” Joe protested.

“I’m not denying you were attacked by some animal but as to the rest?”  Adam snorted and continued up the stairs.

The look Joe exchanged with Hoss told him he felt the same about their older brother.

Ben chuckled.  “Think I’ll turn in too.”  Stopping at the stairs, he asked, “You two didn’t put something in your food?  Y’know, by accident?”

Hoss’ eyes popped wide.  “Pa!  We didn’t eat loco weed, iffin, that’s what you mean.  We know better than that.” 

“Well, whatever happened, I’m just glad you got back safe.”

Left alone in the great room, Joe crossed his arms.  “I don’t think they believed a word.”

Hoss blew out a breath in disgust.  “We know different.”

Joe tightened his arms and gazed into the fire.  “I guess we’ll never know what Maga was or where she came from.”

“No, but I’ll tell you one thing.  Next All Hallows Eve, I’m stayin’ right here.”

Joe nodded in agreement, and they fell silent, brooding on what they’d seen.  When the logs on the fire collapsed, sending sparks exploding up the chimney, they jumped.  

Hoss got up.  “That does it.  I’m for bed.”

Joe glanced around the room.  Shadows flickered up the walls and lurked in every corner.  Jumping up, he dashed after his brother.  “Wait for me!”

The End

October 2022