Comin' Round the Mountain

Its been a few months, and the dead of winter is behind 'em, but the weather is still cold and the posse is itchin' to get back to Denver. Lucky for them Wells Fargo is payin' for tickets on a train to get 'em there.

The Elephant in the Room

Everybody saw it. A burst of white light shot from Jonah, and that white light was the tellin' blow for old Cap'n Linkous. Even after several requests Jonah aint sayin' a word. Miranda remains her stoic self, while Reuben seems content with his belief that its workin' for them, not against. But its still there, starin' the posse in the face. Someday maybe it will be somethin' else. For now its just a huge question mark.

All Aboard!

Its a two day trip by rail, but this train is far from fancy. Sure, its nice enough for their purposes, but thats about it. The train is about half full of passengers, about equal distribution o' cowpokes and saloon gals, if ya get my drift. A few of them begin a poker game, and reluctantly our posse joins as well. Things are playin' about even when one of the men mentions his health is failin' him, and that leads him to be interested in sellin' a little something.

The Dutchman Cometh

Seems a few years back an old gentleman saved the life of an Indian chief, and as a reward he was given a map to a location of some gold in the Superstition Mountains, down in Arizona. At some point a tragedy befell the man (imagine that), and he died. But not before he became relatively famous in the area for the quantity of gold he had been bringin' to the local assayers. After he died the chief wanted his map back, because, well, that was his tribes gold, and he only let this guy in on it because of the good deed he had done. Nobody else had earned the right to have the thing.

So he sent down a detachment o' his best braves to bring it back. They found the Dutchmans stuff alright, and even managed to locate the map. Problem is, when they left they happened upon some ornery cusses who happened to also have an idear that they wanted his treasure map. A little fightin' ensued, and next thing you know, those braves aint walkin' no more, if you know what I mean.

As fate would have it, only one of those murderous hombres made it out, and he took the map and immediately went back to Kansas City to gear himself up and prepare for his expedition. Thats where the wheels fell off this cart. Life got in the way, things intervened, and years past. He just wasnt able to get his trek on the road. Frustrated, one day he up and lost the map in a card game to this gentleman right here.

Maybe there is some kind of bad omen or somethin' attached to it, because by golly he wasnt able to get his journey started for a few years either, and now he finds himself with a failin' ticker. O' course, he would be happy to sell it to the posse for the paltry sum of $1000.

Whoa Pardner

Thats a lot o' scratch. Reuben informs him that while he is an experienced miner, he isnt interested in goin' underground anymore. Of course, if his companions are game, well, he will help them all he can. Jonah and Miranda both share the wide eyed shock at the price. Its a good story, but not $1000 worth in their book. They'll pass.

Ascent Into Mayhem

After the card game breaks up the posse goes back to their seats and pretty much avoids all contact with the rest of the train. They aint rude, they dont shun anyone, but they make no effort to otherwise interact with the other passengers.

Eventually, dusk begins to settle and they round a bend and head up a steep grade deep in the Rockies. The train lurches a mite and heads up, slowly but surely. Just as they near the crest the trains whistle sounds.

HOOOOOOOOT!

Holy Jesus thats loud! The train is skiddin' to a halt. Someones a layin' on the brakes!

KABLAM!

Before anyone can do a damn thing the engine and coal cars tumble over the mountainside, into the smoke ahead. What the hell happened to the bridge?

Come Out With Yer Hands Up

Even as the whole train is filled with thick, disgusting coal smoke, Miranda jumps into action and races to the back of the car and into the next one. When she opens the rear door its clear that whatever cars were behind that are gone.

Thats right, gone. Plummeted down the hill it seems, and it must've been a few minutes ago, because she cant even see 'em anywhere. Somehow that ornery old gimp Reuben comes up right behind her and sees the same thing. Jonah is a bit dazed, but finds a way to get out the back door of the passenger cabin and stagger to the side of the train.

"Throw out your valuables and put up your hands. We'll shoot ya if we gotta!"

Even though he hears it, his head aint clear enough to draw a bead on exactly who said it. He knows it came from the valley below, but he cant make out any targets.

By this time Reuben has made his way around the other side of the cabin, and he can see a head pokin' out maybe 100 yards distant in the valley. Just his luck he didnt have a shotgun with him in the passenger cabin. He did, however, have the presence o' mind to grab a fallen brake handle in that old car, and now he is brandishin' it all clublike.

Miranda, on the other hand, has scampered back into the passenger car and located the man with the map. He is out cold, so she grabs the map and stores it somewhere nobody proper will be lookin'. She then makes her way to the side of the car where Jonah has just drawn his pistol.

30 Seconds

A man wieldin' a rifle and pistol comes stormin' up the side of the mountain, just into Jonahs view. With some kind o' precision nobody knew he had he buries a slug right in that poor gentleman's (and Im usin' the term loosely here) temple. Reuben hears that and crouches down a bit. Another guy pokes his head up in front of him, and Reuben heaves that hunk o' metal right into his cranium.

Im sensin' myself a pattern here. Didnt know they made vorpal dice, did ya?

Anyway, the guy is dazed and staggers a bit, while on the other side Miranda has moved up to the front of the car. She pokes her head around and sees a guy with a shotgun. He shoulda known better, but he dint. Hesitation costs him all he had as she squeezes off two from each pistol into the guy, droppin' him in his tracks.

While his quarry is dazed Reuben is busy scourin' the ground lookin for a suitable rock. He cant find that, but does scare up a large hunk o' metal, perfect for chuckin'. He yells for their surrender just as another hombre emerges from below. Before Miranda can react he plants a tree of lead right through her skirt. It did him no good however, as it exits the other side harmlessly.

Of course, when her guns hum their music, the only song they know is death. Another fusillade of bullets and he drops.

The Smoke Clears

One of those wicked hombres is still alive, but has surrendered. The rest seem to have left him behind or died tryin', but Jonah heads down the valley to be sure. After a thorough interrogation its pretty clear that these guys had nothing to do with the missing cars in the back, they just wanted valuables from the train robbery.

As they conclude their discussion the rest of the passengers emerge from the wreckage. The posse does what they can to help everyone out, and Miranda returns that map. The guy gives her an odd, quizzical look as he snatches his parchment from her grasp. It seems after a quick muster that only one crew member has survived, Hank the cook. A couple of passengers are missing too.

Speakin' of those missin' cars...

Down the Mountain

Jonah volunteers to stay behind and organize the campsite. Everyone agrees they need to prepare for what could be an ambush if those cowardly hombres find some courage, liquid or otherwise. Not only that, but this is the Rockies, its gonna be cold!

Miranda and Reuben head down the mountain, with one of the female passengers in tow. She has an expensive family heirloom that she absolutely must find. The trip is a bit treacherous, but otherwise uneventful.

Loco Turnover

Near the bottom of the grade its clear the cars jumped the track. They seem to have come to rest near a stream at the bottom of an incline. Carefully, the posse and their hanger-on climb down to investigate.

The baggage of the passengers is strewn about, and the woman goes to work lookin' for her heirloom. Reuben climbs into one of the cars, and Miranda looks around for strangeness outside. Everyone pretty much keeps to themselves.

Miranda finds some tracks that look a little like someone in boots bein' dragged up the hill. She finds this thoroughly disconcerting. She cant seem to locate the tracks of whatever is draggin' them, however. This just adds to the eerie feelin'.

Inside the baggage car, Reuben finds blood, and lots of it. Someone certainly met their end around here. A strange machine-like thing catches his eye. It looks like a pistol with six barrels, almost like a Gatling pistol. He also finds a broken wooden box marked Museum of Boston. Strangely, it seems to be the only piece of baggage thats harmed in any way. Upon closer inspection the inside of the box is scratched all to hell, and it looks like something broke out of it.

You heard me right. Broke out, not in.

As he climbs out Miranda informs him of her findings. Reuben is outwardly disturbed. He reminds Miranda of the fate of ol' Hank Ketchum (This Harrowed Ground), and postulates this could be related. The woman doesnt agree, she is convinced its wolves. She also thinks that they should return as soon as possible.

Reuben, of course, strenuously disagrees, and a heated (as well as highly irrational) argument erupts between them that finally culminates with her pulling a derringer from her garter, and informin' him he cant make her stay. She is goin' back.

Reuben and Miranda, however, are stayin'. They are gonna follow those tracks first and see what they can find, then resolve the rest of the matters in the mornin'.

The Woods, Dark and Deep

Still a bit miffed by the womans behavior, Reuben is even more steeled in his resolve. The two posse members trudge up the mountainside into the thick trees. At one point the silence is so deafening they can hear nothing beyond themselves, and can barely see an arms length beyond where they walk in any direction (because of the tightly packed evergreens).

But eventually a clearing looms ahead.

Clearly Disgusting

The thought of a clearin' and the sight of the sky above brings smiles to the faces of Reuben and Miranda, but what they see in the clearin' obliterates all thoughts o' anything but horror and disgust before they can gestate.

Lyin' flat on the ground in front of them are the bodies of the missin' passenger as well as the conductor. They have been viciously torn, especially in the shoulder and arm area, by giant claws of some kind of beast they could never describe (but somehow I gotta). Pulsatin' in the gashes cleaved on their shoulders are giant oblong white globes coated in a thick, nauseatin' fluid.

Could they be? Oh my god yes, those look like...eggs.

But that aint all, no friend, not by a long shot. Standin' over 'em, lookin' as menacin' and dangerous as satans right hand man, is a giant 10 legged spider-thing. No, not a spider, but certainly an insect of some sort.

How big, you ask? The posse might tell you it was 150 pounds if it was an ounce, and who am I to argue. And given the much lower density of insects, well, its clear this was one humongous arachnid (or somethin').

For an eternal second everyone is dumbstruck; awed silly by the naked unbelievable-ness of what sits before them. Quick hands lie dormant. Quick minds lie stuck in mud as wheels refuse to churn.

Unfazed, the creature springs to action and charges forward at breakneck pace, screeching a preternatural opera of doom that holds the posse paralyzed with fear. Miranda shakes so violently that she drops tears all the way down her cheek, while Reuben is so shocked he forgets to breathe.

Before its too late Miranda screams, squints and charges forward, guns blazin'. Her eyes are so filled with tears, and her muscles so violently trembling, that her aim is slightly off, and only a single bullet finds its home. But fate, that fickle bitch, has taken a likin' to this here gal, and that one hunk o' lead buries itself deep into one of the hundreds o' eye sockets on this monstrosity.

The motion jars Reuben from his coma, and he lets go with both barrels, showing that he, too, is in cahoots with fate by vaporizin' the head of that infernal personification of disgust. Momentum carries the skitterin' hulk right up to their feet. Neither move a muscle as it twitches and writhes inches from them. Eventually Miranda eeks out a noise.

'What...?' And that was the last word she said. For two days.

Undertakin' Aint Glamorous, But It Must Be Done

After long minutes of cryin', screamin' and evacuatin' o' the digestive tracts Reuben starts directin' zombie Miranda into helpin' him dispose o' this grim scene. No way is this gettin' out o' here. A giant bonfire engulfs each body, and they spend all night making sure nothin' survives. Nothin'.

Denver

Somehow she dont look the same after all they have been through. The posse, weary and exhausted, have barely spoken of what happened to them. But one of the passengers, a cub reporter for the Tombstone Epitaph, finally coaxes it out o' 'em. She'll make 'em famous, she reckons, and herself at the same time. If anyone ever believes it.

The hike out was arduous for everyone but Reuben and Miranda. For them, it was the easiest work they had ever done. Leavin' those experiences in the past was a welcome respite that the memories themselves refuse to oblige. It aint quite nightmares, well, at least not yet.

Things were just startin' to feel normal, when they saw those guys stride in that seedy bar.

Men In Black Dusters

'We have been following your exploits. Would you mind if we have a seat?'

Nobody seems to protest, so the two men make themselves comfortable. This guy talks like some kind o' tinhorn, the other seems to be savin' his breath for some kind of bank deposit.

'What you did on that mountain, well, it saved lives. Just like what you did at Pawnee Rock and Derry's Ford. We need strong willed people like you. We want you to come work for us.'

Thats how it began. These gentlemen related to them a quick synopsis of what they had already done, with a few new details thrown in for good measure. Especially about this big ol' insect thing. Seems that was actually the fault of these here gentlemen!

Well, not them specifically, but the agency they represent. And who is that? Well the United States Secret Service, thats all.

Somethin's goin' on; somethin' aint right. Hell, anyone can see that pardner. Anyone who has seen what the posse has, that is. Turns out, not many have. Thats why they caught the eye o' these fancy gents.

The service has been monitorin' these kinds o' goin's-on for a couple o' years. In fact, thats why they were formed. This here insect showed up in Boston a few weeks back and wreaked all kinds o' havoc. They killed all o' them but one, then decided they needed to study this one. Figurin' it was too dangerous to store in a metropolis like Boston, they mustered two o' their finest to escort it to some scientists out here in the City o' Gloom. Well, somethin' went wrong. Very wrong. Somehow it woke up, and here we are.

That woman with the derringer, well, she was ours. She knew she couldnt risk bein' caught down there. Her message must be delivered lest this beast be loosed on the state o' Colorado. She apologizes for pullin' her gun on ya.

Yeah, sure she does.

What next? The posse agrees to become full agents and work in the newly created Denver office of the USSS. The pay wont make you rich, but its quite livable, and they will have access to agency resources as well as full support.

Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me!