IRONGATE

by

Terry Wright

Part II

Penelope's Revenge

From his position at Penelope’s entrance, Billy peered across the ravine, his eyes squinting against intense sunlight. An eerie feeling crept through his body. Though the temperature must’ve been a hundred and ten degrees, he felt a chill. Was someone out there watching him?

A dust devil swirled down the trail below. Sagebrush rustled. A hawk soared on thermals above. But nothing else stirred. Satisfied he’d not been discovered, he leaned his head back against the shoring beam and groaned. Justin Graves’ daughter played in his mind. Christy, or Crystal as he preferred to call her, lay spread-eagle on a hospital bed. She looked helpless, the perfect victim. Boner in hand, he approached her. He wanted her. Brutally. Then that goddamned Captain Holland ruined everything.

But that didn’t stop Billy’s imagination from taking up where reality left off. He climbed on top of her anyway. Her skin smelled stale, her shallow breaths like plastic, probably because of the ventilator. A charge of air entered her lungs and lifted her breasts to meet his chest. He plunged into her. She gasped. Her eyes shot wide open.

Suddenly, the ground trembled, and from deep within, Penelope belched dust. A ghastly odor wafted from her bowels.

In an instant, Billy’s fantasy left him. Gagging on putrid air, he struggled to his feet and looked down Penelope’s dark throat, thinking a rockslide had unearthed the rotted remains of those entombed here long ago. The air smelled like a thousand maggot-infested bodies. About to lose his lunch, he turned to flee.

“Billy!”

He froze.

Silence.

Must’ve been his imagination, the tone of creaking timbers taking on a familiar sound. But the odor was getting worse. He had to get out of there.

“Billy!”

Stomach reeling, he gritted his teeth. “Who’s there?”

Heavy footsteps crunched dirt in the darkness.

Right about now he wished he hadn’t set Pender’s Colt on the bed stand in Crystal’s hospital room. “What do you want?” He stepped sideways, bent down, and picked up a splinter-infested board that must’ve been a hundred and fifty years old. “I’m warning you.”

From the shadows, the form of a cowboy appeared. He looked as though he’d clawed his way up from the mine’s muddy innards, his long coat caked with dried clumps of grime, his hat shedding dirt with each step. Tangled gray hair touched his shoulders, and worse, the skin of his lipless, toothy face looked like dried up old leather.

Cocking the board behind his shoulder, Billy took a step backward. “I’ll waste your ass.”

          “You already did,” the aberration said in a raspy voice, now standing an arm’s length away. “Name’s Justin Graves, but you can call me Justice.”

Billy’s stomach clutched. “No way!”

The ghoul opened his coat, revealing a rusted Texas Ranger badge pinned to a ragged gray shirt pulverized with bullet holes. Exposed rib bones shined like neon in the night. His awful stench sent salty bile surging into Billy’s throat. He swallowed. “It IS you.” Without hesitation, Billy lunged at the ghoul, swinging the board. “I thought I was through with you! How dare you come back? I’ll kill your ass…” He beat Justin with the board.

Justin raised his arms to the onslaught. “I’m already dead, punk.”

“Then I’ll kill your stinkin’ daughter…you son of a bitch!”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Again and again, Billy pummeled the ghoul. Dust flew from his coat. His cowboy hat fell off. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“You gave me no choice.”

The board splintered and broke. Billy threw it down and balled his fists. “Come on. It’s just you and me.” He threw a right jab.

Dukes up, Justin bobbed left. “You have no idea how much I want to kill you.”

“Talk is cheap.” Billy threw a roundhouse, almost hit Justin on the jaw.

“But I can’t. I made a deal with the devil.”

“You too?” Billy jabbed with a left-right combination.

Justin landed a right punch that sent Billy reeling backward. “If I kill you, the devil wins. He takes my soul...and Christy’s.”

“She deserves it!” Billy spit blood. “But what’s he got against you?”

“I play by the rules.”

“Bet he hates you for that.” Seeing Justin drop his left fist a little, Billy took a quick swing. Rotting flesh splattered from the ghoul’s left cheek, exposing bone. “Disgusting.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Billy kept his fists high and out in front of him, stepped left, and stared at the horrific sight before him. Once Justin Graves was a picture of health, a clean-shaven, well-groomed officer of the law. Now, reduced to this smelly ghoul, his fate hinged on the only thing he had left: his principles. Billy figured the only way he could hurt the dead detective was to convince him to abandon those principles. The devil would take care of the rest. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Justice.”

“And you’re going to teach me, I suppose.”

“Don’t you get it?” Billy sidled right, his eyes locked on Justin’s. “The rules are different with us bad guys. You good guys don’t impress us. We only look up to other bad guys…in fact…the badder the better.”

Justin raised his fists. “And you, you’re the baddest, I suppose.”

“I am.” Billy’s mouth hurt. “I don’t like good guys, wouldn’t give ’em the time of day. But if you were a bad guy like me, there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Ah…but if I were the devil, you would.”

Justice stepped left. “Like what?”

Billy crouched, his guard up. “Your daughter, man. Wouldn’t you try to impress me to save her?”

“I’d do anything to save her.”

“Then impress the devil. Break the rules. Do what he least expects. Try to kill me if you can.”

Justin stiffened. “I can’t do that.”

Billy stepped back. “Are you that dense? If he likes you, he’ll be more inclined to do you a favor, like save your daughter. If he hates you, you’ll never win.”

Putting his fists down, Justin snarled. “He’ll condemn her to hell.”

“Is that what he said?”

“I was there.”

“And you believe him?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“He’s the devil, man. You can’t trust him.”

“And I should trust you?”

“I know the rules,” Billy said through clenched teeth.  

Stooping, Justin picked up his hat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No balls, Justice?”

“I don’t need any.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m warning you to leave my daughter alone.”

“Try to stop me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Glaring at the ghoul, Billy showed his teeth. “That figures. You didn’t help her before, always out chasin’ the bad guys. Well you’re still chasin’ bad guys, Justice, and you can’t help her now. Your principles are going to be Crystal’s downfall.”

“Her name is Christy!”

“BILLY!  BILLY DENTON.  WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.  COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

Justin sneered. “Maybe I can’t stop you, but those cops can.”

“How did they know I was here?” Fighting panic, Billy pressed his back against the rocky wall and eased himself toward the mine entrance. On the trail below the tailings pile, Captain Holland stood, legs spread and a bullhorn at his lips. He brought a fricken posse with him. “Shit!”

“COME OUT, BILLY!”

“You better give up,” Justin said.

“Never!”

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Justin hollered. “I’m unarmed.”

Billy pushed him. “Damn you!”

Now a dozen men scrambled up the tailings pile.

Heart hammering, Billy took off running down the dark tunnel and into Penelope’s treacherous arms.

Justin’s voice echoed behind him. “Don’t go in there.”

         Groping in the dark, Billy made his way deeper into the mine, counting shoring timbers as he went. He figured Penelope’s reputation would dissuade the cops from following him, for a while anyway.

“BILLY!”

At beam seven, he stopped, and feeling along the crossbeam, found the flashlight he’d stashed for an emergency like this one. Justice and his police buddies would have to get up pretty damn early to outsmart Billy Denton.

Up ahead, the tunnel forked. He stayed to the left. The air felt colder now and tasted like dirt. Just past beam twelve, he had to place each step carefully as he worked his way around a hole in the floor. Loose rocks cascaded over the edge, shattered against bedrock, and splashed into an underground wash. Shoring timbers creaked and groaned.

“GIVE UP, BILLY!”

          Running footsteps echoed. The fools. Didn’t they know danger lurked at every turn?

A scream. A thump.

Rocks clattered.

“Officer down! Officer down!”

Billy stepped over a trip-beam that would bring the ceiling down.

“Take the right fork,” someone ordered.

Another scream.

“Take the left fork.”

A scream and a splash came next.

“Hold up, men. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll get him,” echoed a raspy voice.

Turning, Billy shined his flashlight back down the tunnel. He saw Justin’s ghostly shape flying toward him, his long coat flapping like Superman’s cape, his steel gray eyes glowing under his hat brim. “Shit!” He had to think of something. He spotted the trip-beam. “Come and get me.”

Justin landed just before the beam, an arm’s length away. “Go back with me, Billy. There’s no way out of here.”

“You’re wrong.” He stepped backward.

Justin stepped forward. “Be reasonable.”

Billy took off running. Leaping, Justin tripped the beam. A horrendous rumbling wracked the tunnel as the ceiling crashed down. Huge rocks slammed into the ghoul, crushing his cowboy hat and smashing him to the floor. Billy stopped to watch the pile of rocks grow and the dust swirl. He brushed his hands together. That was the end of Justice. Now he had to get out of this mess and finish off Crystal.

Negotiating Penelope’s hazardous tunnels, Billy looked for one that would circumvent the cave in. It had to be here somewhere. Rascal wouldn’t have left himself without an escape route. But the more Billy searched, the more he began to worry. Now, water dripped from a brittle rock ceiling and trickled along the floor in muddy streams. Goosebumps covered his arms. The air smelled stale and tasted bitter in his throat. He soon realized he’d never ventured this deep before. Panic welled up inside. He was lost.

Throwing caution aside, he frantically scrambled through tunnel after tunnel, finding only dead ends or deep fissures. He wandered this subterranean hell for hours. His pants were soaked, his shoes were muddy and any minute now, he was sure he’d freeze to death. Finally, as the flashlight dimmed out, Billy gave up hope. He slumped to the tunnel floor and cursed Justin Graves. This was all his fault.

And Crystal’s too. If she hadn’t sided with her father during the siege at the old warehouse, none of this would have happened. Must be the way life was, he figured. Things always changed. One minute he was her hero—the next—her bum. Anger flared. What gave her the right to do that? She had to pay, big time. He got off the floor, threw the dead flashlight, and groped through the darkness. Banging into rock walls and tripping over timbers, he swore he’d not become another one of Penelope’s victims. He twisted his ankle and wrenched a knee. But his resolve to escape grew with each setback.

Then suddenly, as if preordained by Penelope’s revenge on all who entered, the floor gave way under him. Falling, he managed to grab hold of a jagged rock. Hanging by his fingers, which now ached from the strain, his feet dangled in thin air. He hung on for dear life.

Penelope made a belching sound.

Tiring quickly, his time was running out. One more breath, maybe two, and then he’d have to let go. He could only hope his death would be swift.

“JUSTICE!”

 A whooshing sound echoed overhead, followed by a glow on the ceiling and the stink of a thousand corpses. The ghoulish detective took shape in the light.

Billy gasped. “You...you’re alive!”

“I am?”

“Help me!”

“Now wouldn’t the devil expect me to do just that?” Justin said in a sandpaper voice.

“Save me!”

“If I let you die, he might think kindly of me. Right? He might do me a favor; he might set my daughter free.”

Billy clung to the rock, his feet flailing above the dark abyss. “It was a lie. I tried to trick you into giving up your principles.”

“Yes. Good idea. I think I shall. Now’s the perfect time.”

“No!” Billy gulped air, every precious lungful he could get. His fingers slipped a little. “Help me!”

“Goodbye, Billy.”

“No, wait! Wait! I’ll make you a deal. I’ll…I’ll leave Crystal alone.”

“Christy.”

“I promise.”

“And I should trust you?”

Billy’s fingers slipped again. “Screw you, Justice. If you let me die, your daughter goes to hell.”

From out of the light, Justin reached down. “Take my hand.”

In an instant, Billy grabbed the ghoul’s wrist, first with one hand and then the other, his body now dangling in mid air, swinging back and forth. “Pull me up.” He thought his heart would burst.

As Justin pulled him toward safety, something went horribly wrong. The rotting flesh on his arm started ripping away from his bones.

“Justice!”

“Hang on!”

Clutching soggy muscles and stringy tendons, Billy fought desperately for a firm grip. But his lifeline was turning to putrid mush: Justin’s wrist, his hand, and now his fingers, skin and flesh stripping from bone. 

“JUSTICE!”

In the next heart beat, Billy lost his grip. At first he felt weightless. A rush of air surged from his lungs, an involuntary scream. A thump came next, dull and painless, as if he’d suddenly entered a dark room and someone hit him with a pillow. 

Then nothing.

TO BE CONTINUED