Moe Jedd... Part Four: Onto The Grayspeak Trail.

 

She sat down and removed her tall flat brimmed hat, resting it on the table, followed by her long black coat, she was adorned in a black cotton blouse and trousers with knee-high riding boots and strapped with one navy colt hanging on each hip.  Moe took notice of her immediately, she had long flaming red hair that fell well past her shoulders, electric blue eyes that seemed to take in everything all at once, was tall, fit and seemed to brim with a confidence usually not found in a woman of the time. It stuck him that perhaps they were looking at the mysterious tracker that had been following the seven, but it wasn't until she rose from the chair and approached their table that his suspicions were confirmed.

"You Moe Jedd?" She asked.

He nodded to the affirmative.

"The same Moe Jedd that hunted the harvesters across the Desolation Sands beneath Flaggs Peak, and rode with a man called Preacher?"

He leaned back in his chair and eyed her carefully and again nodded.

"You ever come across a cavalry captain named Alexander Grimm?" She asked.

"Rode scout with the 6th cavalry, That Captain Grimm?"

she nodded.

"He was my father, Preacher is my uncle, may I sit with you?"

He nodded to an empty chair.

"My name is Scarlett Grimm, these things that you've been tracking, they first showed up on the Oregon trail three weeks ago. Preacher came across them after you and he separated in Vertigo Washington, He showed up at Fort Walling and tried to warn my father, they led a detachment to investigate near Tardswood the Seven killed the whole lot of them, including my father, only then they had another on their tail, he was just like them, when I caught up with them, I found Preacher wounded but alive, took him to the nearest doctor, he gave me a direction and told me he would catch up when he was well enough."

Moe sat up straight, now interested.

"Preacher is here?" Moe asked.

"He was behind me, at least four days back, that's who I thought you might be until I saw the three of you ride into Dryhorn, I believe, the Seven are headed to a place called Northwind bay, on the other side of the mountains, Preacher says they're looking for a particular soul, lost, someone who came to earth ahead of them.  Preacher thinks they're hunting for dark souls, like the harvesters you and him killed in the Desolation Sands. and I think he's right about them being Harvesters. I took out the one that was riding at the rear of their column with a headshot, dropped him instantly. I got close a couple of times, but never caught up with the other seven."

Mordecai sat up straight, and cast a concerned looked at Moe Jedd and then at Scarlett.

"Northwind Bay is a coastal city, why would they be heading there?" He asked.

Moe Jedd had the waitress bring a bottle of whiskey, and he considered Mordecai's question carefully as he poured them all a glass. His eyes slowly raised to me, Mordecai's.

"Because maybe the one soul they're looking for isn't here, maybe they need to look somewhere else."

Scarlett offered her own theory.

"Well, unless they head due north after they reach the coast, they're going to run out of land. Fort Ashford is due north of there, maybe they are headed there." She said.

Moe raised the whiskey glass to his lips and took a drink.

"Maybe what they're looking for is across the water, maybe they're going to Northwind Bay to get a boat." He said.

The hostess brought them a pot of lamb stew and bread with an extra bowl for Scarlett at Moe's request, they dined in mostly silence, each lost in their own thoughts, none of them noticing the lone figure on horseback passing by the large bay window in the street outside. They finished their meal and Moe paid the hostess. As they stepped out into the street, a strange fog seemed to roll in, and it carried with it an eerie cold, The kind that could freeze a man to the bone, and make him forget who he was. Down the wooden plank sidewalk, the door of the Jacob Fander's trading post swung open, and a lone figure stepped out and loaded down with some supplies and began to load them into the saddlebags of an appaloosa tethered in front of the trading post. Moe smiled at the sight of the animal, as he walked up behind the lone figure.

"You're a bit far from home, ain't you, stranger?" He asked.

Preacher turned on his heels as he heard that familiar voice, the two old friends shook hands, and Moe filled him in on everything that they knew about The Seven, in which direction they were headed, and then Preacher agreed to ride with them as they picked up the trail. Mordecai knew of a way they could close distance on the seven quickly, if they went through a path along the Grayspeak trail where the towering trees kept the snow from socking in the trail leading through the thick woodlands. As they followed the winding trail, they quickly put Dryhorn behind them, moving cautiously, single file onto the path, they could gain ground quickly. They turned due north, the snow below the treeline was fairly sparse, everything around them drew quiet, and three hours into the ride, Moe held the team up as he slid down from his animal. There was movement a full two hundred and fifty yards below them. They were above the seven.

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2024~

Moe Jedd... Part Three... Into DryHorn

She had gone back in to the other end of the saloon where she tried to warn the barkeep, when the sudden sound of gunfire in the Wild Rose as they tried to fight back against the seven that drove her to hide in the closet. The fracas was brief however and after the room had fallen into a chilling silence, she had crept over to the door and peered through the small sliver of light in time to see the leader bend down and touch one of them, their skin turned to a frosty shade of death as their eyes slowly faded to black, the female followed behind checking each body before they all left single file. The girl herself, hiding in the closet, seemed to be of no great concern to the seven ominous strangers. Once the last of them left the saloon, she scurried through the open door and hurried to grab a pistol that lye on the floor, still in the first dead cowboy's hand. The smell of gun smoke still in the air told her that he had at least gotten one shot off before he was killed. It didn't even slow them down. 

Then there were two new strangers standing before her, unlike the others these seemed to be worthy of trust, she told them that her name was Matilda Albright, and she was 16 years old. She had lived in the tiny community of Boon her entire life and unlike her parents had one year ago, she never left. They went from one building to another, finding no other signs of life, and instead finding two more bodies at the livery. She had known Ted Childress who owned the trading post, and since there was nobody, it seemed unlikely that he would return, but still there being a chance that he was somewhere nearby hiding until it was safe to come out of hiding, they resupplied their dry goods, ammunition and some oats for their horses, and Moe after consulting with Matilda, since she had at one time worked there, he left the appropriate amount of money on the counter with a note for the goods. They loaded up and rode until the picked up the trail, unknown to them at first, with young Matilda following behind in tow.  

Moe knew as did Mordecai that the girl was following behind them, and knowing the determination of a feisty 16-year-old girl to impose her will, they both decided that given the circumstances, they would pull rein and wait for Matilda to catch up, before continuing on their way.  she finally caught up with them some ten minutes later, ending up riding in between them, however it was not long after when the trail took an unexpected turn. Moe slid out of his saddle and bent down to inspect the fresh tracks, Mordecai soon joined him, he motioned to a row of hemlocks, Moe turned from the trail and followed to a fresh set of tracks trailing behind the seven. Moe stood and returned to his saddlebag removing the spyglass, he scanned the shallow valley below he easily picked up the trail of the seven and the fresh tracks following at a safe distance.

"They're headed north, somebody is following them." Moe said.

"North?" Mordecai asked. "That's moving away from Havenwood, that's in the direction of a small mining camp called Frost Hallow."

Moe turned to face him.

"How many people there?" He asked.

Mordecai scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"Near abandoned, last I heard, maybe five or six people that I know of."

The trail took them up along the sides of the mountains through winding paths where the snow was thinner, below the trail Moe kept an eye on the tracker that was staying above the seven, the way they kept a constant distance from the seven, told Moe that the tracker had been at it for a while, and the way they were staying above them, they decidedly knew exactly the proper distance to maintain from their targets until they were ready to attempt an attack. they were no longer following the seven but rather the tracker following behind, the tracks moved through the snow up the side of the slope until they were directly ahead of Moe, Mordecai and Matilda. They had put six hours between them and Boon, The trail of the seven moved back to the northwest away from the township of Dry horn and up in the direction of Frost Hallow. They needed food, so they took their chances with Dryhorn and decided they would make up ground and ride through at least some of the night.

Dryhorn offered a saloon, a trading post with a dining room, a jail and a livery.  upon arrival, they were surprised to see everyone alive and well, but disturbingly oblivious to the danger that lurked close by. They decided to try the dining hall first to satisfy their hungry bellies.  it was a well maintained two-story building with a hotel and bath house upstairs. the dinning hall was rather large and well-kept. Moe still had a good supply of money and paid the hostess for a nice table where they would sit and dine on fresh lamb stew and root vegetables, with loaves of fresh baked white bread and beans. The tall, striking well armed red-headed woman that entered the dining hall behind them did not go unnoticed, by Moe or Mordecai. The hostess seated her, two tables from Moe and his companions.

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2024~

Moe Jedd... Winterborn Part Two: Book of The Fallen.

 

Northwest Territories…  58 miles, Southeast of Havenwood, November 5th, 1871.

They followed the trail of the strange horseshoe patterns until they rose above and over the crest of Grave's Peak and slowly labored along the downward slope toward the out cropping of buildings in the small valley below. Moe Jedd pulled rein and removed the spyglass from his saddlebag and began to scan the settlement for movement. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, the whole scene looked abandoned, Moe Jedd collapsed the spyglass and returned it to the saddlebag. A growing feeling of uncertainty began to rise up in the pit of his stomach, his eyes carefully scanned the scene below, when he slowly turned in his saddle toward Mordecai P. Lovecraft.

"Nothing's moving, they have a saloon, what looks like a trading post, tack store, a hardware, a gunsmith, a sheriff's office, and a livery. Nobody outside, probably in the saloon." Moe told him. "If they're still alive."

They rode until they reached the edge of the settlement, to where they found a wooden sign half covered in snow that read: "Boon." they rode toward the center of the buildings, both Moe and Mordecai carefully surveying both sides of the street leading to the Wild Rose saloon. nothing moved, and aside from a slight wind lapping at their backs, the entire scene grew eerily silent. They stopped in front of the saloon, both men sliding out of their saddles, and tethering their animals to the hitching post. Both unstrapped their pistols as they cautiously stepped up on the wooden sidewalk and moved toward the open doors of the Wild Rose. There was still nothing but the eerie silence and still nothing moved, it was either that the people had dropped everything and left in a hurry or there wasn't anyone left alive.

Moe stepped up to the doors of the saloon and slowly pushed them open and peered inside, with each step he took, the soft clunking sound of each bootfall echoed through the empty room. He upholstered his pistol as Mordecai entered the room behind him, Moe silently turned to face him, he raised two fingers and quietly motioned to the bar as Mordecai nodded in agreement. He moved up to the counter where several half drank glasses of whiskey lined its length. Mordecai moved around behind the bar while slowly removing his pistol from its holster. Face down, behind the counter lay a still, half frozen dead body, Mordecai carefully moved up beside it and putting the toe of his boot under the side rolled the dead man over on his back. Two opened black eyes stared up at him.

A similar scene awaited Moe behind three tables where playing cards lye strewn across the tops with some poker chips and glasses half full of whiskey. Two bodies lye dead and frozen on the wooden floor, each with black eyes. Off to his right down a short hallway Moe saw a partially open door, he pulled the hammer back and cocked one of the pistols as he carefully approached the door, he slowly pushed it open with the toe of his boot, training the barrel on the floor as it swung open, off in the corner a young girl sat trembling with her own gun drawn in her trembling hands. She stared up at him, the cold breath escaped her lips, Moe slowly raised his empty hand while lowering his pistol. She swallowed hard, her eyes never left him as he slowly, cautiously, stepped forward.

"Easy now, we're not here to hurt you," He said helping her to her feet. 

He walked her back out into the main room, sat her down and poured her a glass of whiskey. Her eyes nervously shifted back and forth between Mordecai and Moe, and then around the room, shaking, she pulled the whiskey glass to her lips and gulped it down before returning for another. she drew in a deep breath, Moe grabbed a warm coat from the back of one of the empty chairs and wrapped it around her shoulders. He set two more glasses across the table from her and filled them both with whiskey, he and Mordecai sat down across from her. Mordecai looked curiously at Moe and then the girl, He had taken notice that she was beautiful, and her long reddish blonde hair softened her looked some, but both men could tell that she had been through a great deal, and had a hard look to her.

"Can you tell us what happened here?"  Mordecai asked softly.

She looked at Moe and then Mordecai, before pouring herself another whiskey.

"They came riding in this morning, there were seven of them, I was standing on the sidewalk when they first rode up, right away I could tell they weren't right." She said.

"What do you mean they weren't right?" Moe asked, curiously leaning forward.

She looked at Moe and then back to the open doors as her hazel eyes narrowed.

"They were all already dead. Least that's how they looked."  She answered.

Mordecai sat upright abruptly, his eyes widened.

"What do you mean they were already dead?" He nervously asked her.

She raised her eyes to meet his stare.

" They're skin was light pale blue, and when the leader walked by me there was a coldness, that seemed to follow him, he looked right at me, his eyes were a strange color, almost a shade of red. They all went in the saloon, they felt dead." She raised the whiskey glass to her lips.

Moe Jedd raised himself up from the chair, slowly he started walking around the room, studying everything in the room carefully. She watched him with growing interest. He walked to the doors and stared out at the falling snow for a time before walking back out to his horse, returning moments later with the small leather-bound book. He sat back down at the table and poured them all another whiskey, he untied the bindings and began leafing through the pages, stopping to read through one passage in particular. Moe slowly closed the book, solemnly staring at the glass of whiskey, both Mordecai and the girl eyed him curiously. He stood once again and began pacing impatiently back and forth, becoming more and more lost in his own thoughts. finally he turned to face them. he returned his attention to the girl.

"And there were seven you say?" Moe asked.

She slowly gave him a nervous nod. Mordecai was now fully aware that something had triggered Moe's alarm.

"I was in a town across the border from BC called Tamnet, something akin to this happened there, only most of the people weren't there save a small church congregation. Maybe four people including the padre were left behind, he was different from the rest, unlike all the rest someone tortured the padre, but not before he wrote a message in his own blood. he wrote: "The fallen have returned, may God help us all." about twenty-five miles later I find what I'm guessing is another member of that congregation, frozen like the others. in his possessions I found this book."

Mordecai sat up straight.

"A bible?"

Moe shook his head.

"No... It's a journal of some type, in it, the writer speaks of seven angels banished by God to hell, for committing sins, against humanity. according to this book, upon arriving in hell the devil sent them back to earth, to find dark souls. I have seen such soul harvesters when I was traveling through the Desolation Sands, we stopped those by shooting for the head. These are different somehow, they're not supposed to thrive in the extreme cold."

Now the girl sat up straight and showed new interest.

"Wait-when the male killed them, the female began checking the bodies, and then they all just left. like-like she was looking for something." She told them.

Moe's eyes narrowed, his stare returned to the door once again, looking out at the snow. 

"They aren't looking for dark souls, they're looking for one in particular."

Then Mordecai rose from his chair, slowly walking up beside Moe Jedd.

"And they won't stop until they find it."  Mordecai said.

Moe turned to face him.

"Or WE stop them."

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Moe Jedd.. Winterborn... Part one... The Fallen 7.

The air had turned a bitter cold and the ground an icy white, the snow then falling at an alarming rate, grew deeper and deeper, she drew an icy cold breath deep into her lungs, still, her legs tried to steady her in the deepening snow drifts, and though she through force of will, pushed forward, her pace slowed to almost a walk, until finally she staggered forward and fell to her knees. She looked back behind her and through the blinding snow, then could only see one of the seven riders that had been fast on her heels. The leader closed distance as she tried to stand, and young though she was, her legs beneath her now felt old and frail, she had covered too much ground, too fast, the burning in her lungs slowed her breath and her tired legs could no longer support her weight, all she could do was lay there and wait for the inevitable. He was now upon her.

The animal beneath him was quite large, larger than any she'd ever seen in her life. The rider, in appearance, was terrifying. He was quite tall and broad shouldered, with hair of the brightest yellow that fell past his shoulders, his eyes seemed to glow a haunting hue of blue, his skin frosty white gave him the look of death. The animal snorted, and slowed to a stop, the rider studied her carefully, he cocked his head to one side slowly pulling himself to one side, off of the saddle. She tried to crawl away from him, but it was far too late, he stood over her, removing the black leather glove from his right hand, he gently brushed his cold fingers over her cheek, and starting at her feet, she felt her legs begin to stiffen, her skin grew colder than before as she felt the blood in her veins slowly turn to ice and her eyes finally grew still and turned white as the snow. He released his grip and turned to the other six riders coming up behind him. 

He re-mounted and turned in the saddle on his animal to look at the lead rider who had drawn closer, his cold eyes seemed to roam slowly over the scene as the heavy falling snow silently lashed at the cold icy ground. He raised his gaze to meet hers.

"Is it done then?" She asked in a cold raspy tone.

He returned his gaze to the form of the young dead girls frozen body.

"Yes... She is gone... Like... The others... Strip away what isn't needed... Mine the soul... Like.... The others... We... Will move on... There are... Many others... To... feed on here." He hissed.

The other six riders circled the dead girls body and stopped, the female, got off her horse, and knelt down beside of the girl and inspected the body, she returned her eyes to the lead rider who was watching her every move. She slowly stood up.

"There is something to be taken her Gideon, but I fear... She is not the one."

He leaned forward in the saddle.

"Take what you can get... Leave... The Flesh... To... Rot..." 

He turned away and returned to the trail. the rest finished their deed and followed along behind him.

Northwest Territories…  62 miles, Southeast of Havenwood, November 3rd, 1871.

There wasn't much to see nor tell along the way, to speak of, he'd come all the way from the dusty valleys of the Desolation Sands, across raging rivers, and over the highest mountain tops finally dropping down into the old Oregon Trail, which he would follow all the way through British Columbia into the Northwestern Territories, he rode for days and nights on end, until the ground itself had begun to turn white, and the frost had covered his wake. The trees became thicker and the path up into the snow top mountain of Blackmoon rise, a trail of a different type caught his suspicious eyes. He carefully studied the tracks until finally pulling the small leather-bound book from his saddlebag. On the third page was a hand drawn picture of a horse shoe with strange small cross patterns along the whole edge of the shoe.

He prompted the horse forward, following the trail of the odd horse shoe prints in the snow, stopping when he saw the body of the young girl lying still, half covered in snow. Her eyelids were still open as she almost seemed to be staring up at him, her eyes themselves bloodless, lifeless, black as coal.  Moe Jedd's eyes began to study the skies around him, more cloud black, almost as black as the dead girl's eyes he thought, another storm was moving in, and it was looking to be a bad one. He would be needing to find shelter soon. He headed straight up to the mountain side until he reached a series of jutting cliffs reaching straight up toward the sky, he followed the face around a bend in the rocks until he came upon what he was looking for heading west. A small but fairly deep hollowed out area in the cliff face, big enough for his animal and him. 

He was able to gather enough wood in the underbrush of fallen trees to strip down to build a nice fire, killing two hares looking for shelter in the process. He brushed and bedded down the horse, feeding him a small bag of oats hanging from the saddle. The animal went down to his front knees and lye down by Moe, Moe smiled, petting the side of his neck gently.

"Young feller, you've been with me for over a year now, I reckon you've lasted longer than some of my friends. I've been thinking about calling you something other than horse, I reckon Shadow will do. What do you think, handsome boy?" 

He walked back to the fire and turned the roasting hares, when he heard the sound of muffled falling hooves. He pulled the Sharpes from the scabbard and was waiting when the rider rounded the bend. He cocked the rifle when he heard the soft mild pitched southern drawl cursing softly against the falling snow, atop the white speckled stallion sat a round, older fellow with long white hair adorned in furs with a wolves head for a hat. His eyes moved back and forth between the fire and Moe Jedd. 

"Mind if I sit and warm my old bones by your fire, young feller?" He asked.

Moe Jedd replaced the Sharpes back into the scabbard but kept the two army colts handy. He nodded to the other side of the fire, his eyes never leaving him, passing him a skewer of cooked hare.

"Much obliged, pilgrim," he said. "You happen upon a young girl dead in the snow, did you?"

Moe Jedd looked out at the snow.

"Found four more just like her at the bottom of the eastern slope bout five miles out, same trail I followed up here." Moe said. "Same trail I've been following since British Columbia."

"How many folks they bag in B.C.?"

"Seven others."

"Left them lay, did they?"

"Same as these, same black eyes." Moe studied him.

"Didn't seem like she was shot pilgrim, how do you reckon they killed 'em?"

Moe's eyes squinted.

"From the inside out, from the looks of things, the same way all of them died."

Moe's eyes drifted back out to the snow and then back to the old man. 

"You got a name, old timer?"

He looked up from his dinner and smiled slightly.

"Mordecai P. Lovecraft." He said.

Moe extended his hand.

"Moe Jedd."

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