“Hey,” Clay whispered, pointing through the pines.
Colt eased his Winchester to his shoulder and tracked Clay’s finger.
There he stood. The biggest buck Colt had ever seen. 10 points, maybe 12.
“Son of a bitch,” Colt breathed. He drew a slow breath and steadied the bead on the end of his rifle.
“You better not miss, little brother,” Clay mumbled around the wad of tobacco bulging his cheek. “Pa’ll tan yer hide six ways to Sunday.”
Colt started the squeeze, finger light on the trigger.
“Use that Shoshone ya got in ya,” Clay said with a grin, and then he slammed a fist into Colt’s shoulder right as the trigger broke.
BOOM.
The shot cracked harmless into the cold sky.
“What the hell, Clay?” Colt snapped. He let the rifle drop and shoved his brother hard.
Clay caught him easy. Five years older and built like a barn door, he held Colt off without breaking a sweat. Then he folded over laughing.
“Damn it man.” Colt scooped the Winchester up, worked the action once, and slung it over his shoulder.
Clay put his arm around Colt’s shoulder as they turned back toward the horses. The mules stood quiet with packs heavy from of the day’s kill.
“Don’t worry, Colt, we’ll come back out here tomorrow, you’ll get him.”
Colt gave a short huff. The sting of the miss started to ease.
They’d taken only a few steps when the first streak cut across the sky.
It was dark, violet at the heart. Almost black along the edges.
Colt stopped dead. “What the hell is that?”
He grabbed Clay’s arm.
Another streak followed, then more, arcing out of the west.
Words flickered across Colt’s vision. He blinked hard.
ANOMALOUS ENERGY DETECTED
SCANNING…
They vanished before he could make sense of them.
Clay’s grin was gone. “Ain’t never seen stars move like that.”
Far toward the broken mesas, a brighter flash bloomed. Brief, but bright enough to light the pines for a second.
The woods went quiet. No wind. No birds.
Colt felt the cold crawl up his spine. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.
Clay clapped a hand on Colt’s back. “Let’s get outta here.”
They swung into their saddles. Colt took the lead rope for one mule, Clay the other, and the horses started down the trail with the mules plodding behind.
Home wasn’t far. Just a couple miles through the pines and down into the valley.
Colt kept glancing west toward where those violet streaks had vanished beyond the ridges.
Clay pulled his horse up short. “Whoa.”
He nodded ahead.
Three riders coming toward them on the same trail, moving at a trot.
Colt squinted. “That Earl?”
“Yeah,” Clay said, his voice flat. “Jeff and Henry ridin’ with him.”
Colt’s fingers tightened on the reins.
Earl was Clay’s age, twenty-three, mean as a snake. Jeff and Henry were a year or two older but dumber, happy to follow wherever Earl pointed.
The three slowed as they closed the distance, then stopped and spread out just enough to block the trail.
Earl sat easy in the saddle with his thumbs hooked in his belt and a smirk already in place.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled. “Look what the mules dragged in.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Jeff snickered. Henry spat to the side and grinned.
Colt felt his jaw tighten. Clay didn’t say a word, just rested a hand on his thigh close to his revolver.
The pines around them stayed quiet.
Earl swung down from his horse and his boots thudded into the dirt. He started walking toward them.
Colt straightened in the saddle. “What the hell you want this time, Earl?”
“Hang on,” Clay snapped at him.
He faced Earl. “We don’t want no trouble, Earl.”
Earl stopped close, right in front of Colt’s horse. He looked Colt over with cold eyes, then shifted his gaze to the mules and the deer packed heavy on their backs.
He spat thick, and it landed square in the dust by Colt’s horse.
Still locked on Colt, he spoke to Clay. “Half-breed luck. Still don’t make him special.”
He flashed a thin grin and glanced back at Jeff and Henry. They laughed.
Colt’s jaw locked. His hand dropped to the Winchester before he could think about it. He’d heard it before, that word, heard it his whole damn life, but it never stopped burning.
Earl drew fast. Revolver out, hammer clicked back, barrel leveled on Colt’s chest.
Clay matched him. His gun cleared leather and pointed dead at Earl’s face.
Jeff and Henry jerked their rifles up with sights on Clay.
Five barrels stared across the trail. Hammers cocked. The horses shifted and the mules stamped once behind them.
Clay kept his voice low. “Y’all can have the deer. But not the mules.”
Colt’s gut twisted. His own brother, backing down to these sons of bitches. Giving up what they’d spent all day killing.
Earl smiled slow. He spun his revolver once and holstered it smooth, then motioned to Jeff and Henry. They followed his lead and lowered their rifles.
Colt’s grip tightened on the Winchester.
“No.” He raised it fast and aimed dead at Earl. “Fuck that.”
“Colt,” Clay said, voice cracking as he spoke.
Another violet streak slashed the sky. Then another, faster now.
Earl looked up, his smile left his face. He stepped back slow.
BOOM.
One streak hit ground nearby. The impact threw heat across Colt’s face. Smoke blasted up with debris flying everywhere. The smell of burning brush filled the air.
Clay swore loud. “Oh shit.”
Jeff’s horse freaked and reared high, throwing him hard into the dirt.
Henry didn’t say a word. He just spurred his horse and took off down the trail.
Another hit, even nearer than the first. The ground shook under them. Colt’s horse stumbled sideways.
Colt looked at Clay, but the noise swallowed everything. Clay’s mouth moved with words Colt couldn’t hear.
The sky turned dim purple with streaks everywhere, too many to count.
Earl bolted. He ran straight to the ditch beside the trail and jumped in.
Clay slid off his horse quick, grabbed Colt’s arm, and pulled him down hard. He dragged him into the ditch right next to Earl.
Earl yelled over the roar. “Come on! Get in!”
Jeff scrambled up and ran stumbling toward them, then dove into the ditch.
They all crouched low, packed tight together.
Colts head started to throb, more words flashed across Colt’s vision.
HOSTILE ENERGY DETECTED
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME
STANDBY…
Colt squeezed his eyes shut. “What the fuck.”
The noise stopped.
Colt stayed down in the ditch a second longer, not moving, listening hard for another hit. Nothing came. His ears rang and dust sat thick in his mouth. He spat and wiped his lips on his sleeve.
Clay pushed up first. He stood slow, head turning left and right.
“Jesus Christ,” Clay said.
Earl stood up. He brushed dirt off his coat and stepped out.
Jeff climbed out behind him with his eyes wide, looking around.
“Dang, Earl,” Jeff said, thick drawl dragging the words. “What the hell was that kinda storm?”
Earl stared out at the trees with his jaw tight. “That wasn’t a storm, dumbass.”
Colt crawled out last. His elbows scraped dirt and he scrambled to his feet.
Craters were everywhere. Dozens of them, all around. Big ones the size of wagon wheels, little ones no wider than a boot print. Dirt thrown up in rings. Splintered branches scattered across the ground. Rocks cracked open.
Rising out of every crater was violet smoke, climbing straight up into the sky.
Clay took a step toward the closest one. Colt followed, then Jeff. Earl moved last.
They stopped at the edge.
In the bottom of the crater, something sat in the dirt. A small violet sphere. It pulsed.
Jeff leaned forward a little. “Uh… y’all seein’ that?”
Clay swallowed. “Yeah. I’m seein’ it.”
Earl’s voice came out calmer than his eyes looked. “What is it?”
More words appeared in front of Colt.
DIMENSIONAL BREACH CONFIRMED
THREAT ASSESSMENT IN PROGRESS
Colt blinked hard. The words stayed. He shook his head once. They didn’t move.
His mouth went dry.
Clay noticed. His head tilted. “Colt… you alright?”
Colt didn’t answer. He stared at the words, then at the sphere.
The sphere pulsed again, and then it started to grow. Not fast at first, just swelling a little bigger with every pulse. The violet smoke around it thickened and curled up over the crater’s lip.
Earl took one step back. “Alright,” he said, voice shaky. “That’s enough of that.”
Jeff’s boots scraped as he backed up too. “I don’t like this. I sure as hell don’t like this.”
Clay didn’t move.
Colt kept his eyes on the sphere as it grew bigger. Pulsing harder with each second that passed.
Then the sphere jumped.
It shot up out of the crater and Colt flinched back a step. All around them, every crater, violet spheres rose into the air. One above each hole. They hung there, not drifting, not falling, just floating.
Colt’s throat tightened. “Oh shit.”
Clay’s hand went to his belt. He pulled his gun and brought it up. Earl drew his too, and Jeff already had his out with his eyes glued to the one floating over their crater.
The spheres didn’t stay round.
They flattened out and spread thin until wide shimmers hung over each crater. The edges rippled. They didn’t slide with the wind or drift. They just sat there in the air.
Clay shifted in front of Colt and threw his arm out across Colt’s chest.
“Don’t move,” Clay said, voice low.
Jeff took a step closer.
Earl snapped his head toward him. “Jeff. Get back here.”
Jeff didn’t listen. He leaned in, squinting.
Colt kept his feet planted. He watched Jeff’s face instead of the shimmer. Jeff’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung half open.
Jeff’s head snapped to the side like he saw something move.
Earl’s voice got hard. “What? What is it?”
Jeff swallowed hard. “I think I can see—”
A wet cracking noise cut him off.
Colt jumped back a couple feet.
Earl stepped forward. “See what. Jeff?”
Jeff turned around slow.
There was a metal star stuck in his forehead. Four points, black steel, buried halfway into the bone above his eyes.
Colt didn’t understand it for half a second.
Jeff’s hands shook. His gun wobbled in his grip.
“I—I—I saw a—” he said.
His knees hit the dirt. He sagged forward and went down on his side, and his gun slipped from his hand and thudded into the dust.
