The Two Devils Read online

  "What? Where's Ruth?” I demanded.

  The shape changed into a woman, at least a two dimensional version of one, and was completely black, appearing something like a freestanding shadow. “Miles, come to me."

  "What in tarnation?” I started to retreat toward the entrance.

  In an instant, the entity was between me and escape. “I have no name, Miles.” It changed into the shape of a shadow-wolf. “Though I guarantee these teeth can tear you to shreds."

  "Fangs,” I corrected.

  "What?” The creature asked, its train of thought interrupted.

  "They're fangs. Wolves have fangs, whatever you are. They're not teeth, they're fangs. Even a dumb clod from Kansas knows that much."

  The form changed to a large raven shape, and fluttered down onto the large rock that was near the fire. “So, a wise fellow has come to teach me."

  I took a swing with the pickaxe. I struck nothing but air. The shape moved to the opposite side of the fire and changed back to a woman.

  "You don't love me anymore, Miles?” it mocked with Ruth's voice.

  "Love you? What the heck are you?"

  "I'm your beloved Ruth, Miles. Don't you remember me?” it taunted.

  My stubborn streak kicked in. “I don't know anyone named Ruth."

  It changed back to the bird silhouette. “But, you were with her two nights ago?"

  "So? I'm getting out of here."

  "Now Miles,” the bird said, “I cannot allow that."

  I picked up and hurled a small stone at it, but it missed.

  "Miles, Miles, Miles.” It changed back to the wolf form. “I'm predator. You're prey. It's that simple.” The wolf shape moved over toward the mouth of the cave. “I feast on souls. Ruth was delicious. She thought you were sweet, so I decided to try you, too."

  It seemed ridiculous. “My soul? You want my soul?"

  The entity was deadly serious. “Exactly, Miles, exactly. The rest ... it all sort of falls to pieces when I devour the core.” It pointed at the bed of coals. “Makes a nice fire, though."

  "That's evil."

  "Call it what you will.” It changed into a shadow snake and began to slither on the ground around me, just out of reach of the pickaxe. “I used to drink blood. Then, I was stuck in here from a cave-in. I didn't die, Miles.

  And the Indians found me. They thought I was a deity until I killed them all ... and the Spaniards. And soon, all these miners.” The snake form coiled up and its shadow-tongue stuck out then retreated five or six times.

  "Mmm ... I'm a lucky snake, Miles. Lucky snake.” Then it uncoiled and changed again.

  The wolf shape moved closer, then retreated when I readied the pickaxe. “But, I get so lonely here, waiting for a meal. The miners have been a windfall, but the gold is running out. I'll get so lonely when they're all gone.” It started laughing. “Sometimes I play with my food.” It laughed again. “Maybe we'll invite all the miners in here. Hell, they've broken through farther down the cave, maybe we'll have a cave-in and all get real chummy."

  "The gold's running out?” I blurted.

  "The Indians say gold is the yellow metal that makes white men crazy. Of course, I feed on Indians, too,” it said as its shadow tongue licked shadow cheeks. “The Spaniards wanted gold, but they didn't want to mine it, only to steal it.” It coiled up into snake form again. “Miles, the idiots Cortez sent me were way off course, and they were looking for an Indian city of gold. Can you believe that? Here? They came all the way here."

  "There's no such thing as a city of gold,” I responded.

  "Exactly. You're a clever fellow Miles. And they died. If they hadn't been so greedy, they'd have stayed in Spain, or at least over in Mexico.” It coiled up around the boulder. “They deserved to die, don't you think, Miles?"

  "I think you're nuts.” I swung the pickaxe suddenly, but missed again.

  "You deserve to die, Miles. You're a greedy miner trying to make a fast doubloon,” it said. “Plain old greed, Miles."

  "Money's called dollars now,” I corrected. “Not doubloons."

  "Forgive me.” It changed back to its wolf form. “I knew that. I knew that. Now Miles, this is fun.” The wolf shape moved near the cave entrance. “Lots of fun. But, all good things must end. This won't hurt a bit.” It opened its mouth wide. “Well, maybe a little."

  I lunged at it with all my strength. I struck something on impact that tore open my shoulder, but my momentum carried both of us out through the entrance. We landed outside the cave, on the little rocky plateau. The thing began squirming violently. I dug in with teeth and fingernails and all my strength.

  "Let me go,” it pleaded in a quivering voice.

  I held on tight. “Don't like it out here?"

  "How did you know?” Its voice was now crackly and dry. “Let me go?"

  "You shouldn't play with your food. That's what my grandma always said.” The squirming weakened, but I held on tight just the same. “You're not getting back inside that cave. You lure victims to your lair, so you must not be mobile.” The thing was getting weaker. Then, it began to change. It sort of crumpled into a black blob, turned to dust, then it blew away on the afternoon breeze.

  I sat up. My shoulder hurt. I was covered with sweat and blood, but was alive and nothing was broken. As I caught my breath, people—or at least their images—floated out of the cave. Some were miners from before my arrival, some were the Spaniards it had talked about, and there were a few Indians, and then there was Ruth. I looked at her. I sensed they were all going someplace good. Then, they all sort of faded off into the sky. I picked myself up, brushed off, then headed back down toward the camp.

  "What you been up to, boy?” Roy shook his head while he looked me over. “Plum filthy."

  "Oh, I, uh ... fell off a cliff,” I answered. “You got any whisky, Roy?"

  "Whisky” Roy asked. “Looks like you already had some."

  "You got any whisky or not?” I soon had a whole bottle in front of me. It was the cheap stuff that makes men sick. Later on, I found out they weren't kidding. They told me I turned green. I sure felt green. I learned what dry heaves and hangovers are all about.

  The entity was right. The gold was running out. The mine closed about a month later. I found a job cooking at another mining camp that was only a few miles away, and even managed a nickel a day raise. They mined silver at the new mine, which seemed to be more in abundance than gold.

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  Chapter 2

  THE DEVIL'S CHEST

  I knew he was gonna be trouble the second I set eyes on him. The man was loitering around the road looking like he didn't really belong there. He was all gussied up like I was, being on account it was the Fourth of July and everyone was trying to celebrate, except for me. I pulled back on the reins and stopped the Driscoll Mining Company buckboard right in the middle of the road.

  "Could you help a poor fellow out by giving him a lift?” he asked me.

  "I reckon,” I replied. “Where ya headed?"

  "Up yonder a ways,” was his answer.

  "All righty,” I decided. “Name's Miles, Miles O'Malley.” I extended my hand.

  He shook it. His hand was cold and clammy, a lot like shaking hands with a snake. “Nick.” We rode on for a full minute. “Nick Mephistopheles. I'm not really from around here."

  "Who is?” I asked.

  "You've got a point, Miles,” Nick agreed.

  I turned the team off the badly rutted road and onto a really terrible one. “You want off here, or you going to the mine?"

  "I think I'll stop by the mine, if you don't mind,” he decided.

  "Suit yourself.” I didn't really care. I just kept hoping none of the supplies would bounce out when we hit the bumps in the road. These people were real good to me and I hadn't been fired now in nearly three months. After a mile of bouncing around, we came to the mining camp.

  This was a pretty ordinary small mine operation. We had one main tunnel that went
way back into the mountain.

  "Just let me out by the office, if you please?” Nick asked.

  The office was a canvas tent with windows. I stopped the team right in front. Mr. Driscoll was sitting in his rocker out in front, aiming for his brass spittoon. He never made it. “They was out of crackers, but I brung everything else, Mr. Driscoll,” I reported.

  "Well, you know where it goes. Everyone, except Clyde and you, went off someplace. Course, it is a holiday,” my boss told me. Then he looked at Nick. “Mister, I ain't selling the mine. Why you keep coming out here?"

  It did seem a little strange, some fella wanting to buy the mine and he was walking around on foot taking rides with strangers. But, I learned a long time ago not to try and figure rich folks. So, I took the team over to the supply shed and unloaded the provisions.

  Miss Emily was one of the homeliest gals I'd ever run across. She was the boss’ daughter. The way she acted, you'd think she was one of those actresses or opera singers. And there she was, holding a tray covered with a red and white-checkered napkin on top. “Hi Miles."

  "What do you want, Emily?” I asked.

  "Miles, it's getting real hot. Gonna be a scorcher.” She set the tray down on the floor of the buckboard.

  "What do you want, Emily?” I repeated. She was one of those women who was only nice when she wanted something.

  "Could you take this tray down to Clyde?” she asked.

  I dropped the last bag of flour into the shed. “Why can't you take it to him?"

  "He's down in the mine,” she said. “I'm not allowed to go down there."

  "In the mine? You want me to go down there?” The mules weren't working. Even if I got a cart to roll me down, I'd have to hoof it all the way back out. “What's he doing down there?"

  "Trying to figure out where to start the new tunnel. He thinks there's a big vein somewhere,” she explained.

  "It's a holiday.” My protests were pointless. I soon found myself, tray in hand, picking up a lantern and heading into the mine. She was right about one thing. It was a lot cooler in there.

  I climbed into an oar car, and with a little jostling, got the car rolling along. I'd ridden the thing down before, but this time was different. With all the miners off, there weren't any lanterns lit up. So, I just sort of jostled around in the dark, holding my lantern, and hoping the little car wouldn't derail or run into anything as it whisked me off into the earth. Finally, it stopped—so abruptly I was thrown from the cart.

  I landed in a pile of dirt. At least the darkness hid my filth. Clyde's lantern could be seen just ahead.

  Clyde was a mining engineer. He liked to ponder things at times when the mine was quiet and inactive.

  I'd walked, perhaps fifty feet, when I realized I'd forgotten the tray—my reason for being there. I turned around and somehow managed to get my left foot caught in a depression underneath the oar car tracks. I couldn't move. I was just able to reach a pickaxe leaning against a support truss. As I stood there trying to pry myself loose, I heard footsteps coming up from behind me. “Hey Clyde, I'm stuck."

  I looked up. It was Clyde, but he acted like he didn't see me. He was running, not walking, and he ran right on past me and vanished into the darkness. I didn't know if the mine was about to collapse or the man was seeking the privy, but I tried to hurry my efforts. Then, an icy cold shot of adrenaline raced up my back. My back usually knew I was in danger before I did. I again looked up and saw one of the strangest things I'd ever seen.

  It was a man, but wasn't. You could see right through him. And he sort of glowed. He was running along, oblivious to me and carrying a rather large chest; wooden with metal trim. The chest had a padlock on it, and the whole thing sort of glowed slightly, much like the man carrying it.

  Soon, the man was out of sight, vanishing in the direction Clyde had run off to. And I was alone again, trying to free myself. And again, I heard steps coming out of the mine. This new guy wasn't glowing. I can only say, I'd never seen the likes of this, either. He had to have been hairy or maybe that wasn't hair covering him. I don't really know. He stood at least eight feet tall. There were horrible fangs sticking out of his mouth. And his eyes glowed like the coals of a dying campfire.

  He looked straight at me. “Give me the chest!” His voice was deep and angry. I reasoned, if there were demons in hell, this would be one.

  I pointed over my shoulder. “It went that way, with the glowing guy."

  "You lie!” He reared back and hurled a fireball straight at me. This fireball, about the size of a large snowball, was red and orange, and a trail of flame followed behind it. As it was about to hit me, I instinctively put the pickaxe up in front of me. The fireball bounced off and it exploded into sparks when it hit the tunnel wall. He threw a second one. I deflected it to the other wall. The big fellow decided this wasn't working, so he marched right up to me. “Give me the chest or I rip your head off."

  I had no doubt at all he had the power and temperament to do it. I readied my pickaxe. “The glowing guy has it."

  "I believe him. Don't you?” It was Nick Mephistopheles. And he was standing right next to me. I wondered where he'd come from.

  The demon backed off a few feet. He wanted to say something, but couldn't or wouldn't. And he seemed very afraid of Nick.

  "Miles, this is a demon. Most folks like you don't come across such things,” Nick explained. “His name is Ellul. And I must say, I wouldn't have thought you were the sort to stand your ground with him."

  "My foot's stuck.” I pointed down at the track.

  Ellul and Nick both let out some loud laughter with that. But only for an instant, then Ellul stopped. He came back over to me, reached down, and easily lifted the track enough to free me.

  Nick rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, Miles, we've got a bit of a problem.” He looked at Ellul. “Go back and patch that dang blasted hole up.” Then he looked back at me. “In the search for minerals, your employer has knocked a hole into my territory. This is most unfortunate."

  "Territory?” I asked.

  "Miles, you're not that stupid, boy. Hell. You've surely heard of it, and it is just down at the end of that tunnel,” Nick said. He pointed back in the direction of the hole.

  "I don't like the sound of this.” I wished I hadn't said that the second the words left my mouth.

  Nick again started rubbing his chin. “Miles, that glowing guy, as you called him, is a ... well, we'll call him an unprocessed soul. And he has something of mine—something very important."

  "The trunk?” I asked.

  "Yes, the trunk,” Nick said. “And I want it back. And I want you to get it for me."

  "Me?” I couldn't figure out why I had to get involved in this. “Why me? I didn't have nothing to do with this,” I reminded him.

  "Miles, under the master lease for hell, well ... my powers out there,” he pointed back toward the mine entrance, “are somewhat restricted. But you don't want to cross me. I can make your life most miserable, believe me."

  "Why me?” I protested. “I didn't take it. I just got my foot caught in the track or I'd have skedaddled out of here long ago."

  "If it weren't for these bull-headed miners, none of this would've happened. That's why I was trying to buy the mine.” Nick looked at me and smiled. I don't know why, but he kept reminding me of a grinning snake, though he really had no such features. “Miles, I'll make it worth your while. Name your price? Women? Money? How about a nice job as governor in a few years?"

  "It's tempting, but—” I hesitated a moment. “You don't have the best reputation for making bargains. No offense."

  He waved his hand around. “Lies, all lies from our competitor. Are you with me, Miles?"

  "I don't..."

  "Miles, the mine will cave in. I'll see to that. Would you rather it be full of your pals, or at a time like this when it's empty?” Nick asked. “I am not sharing hell with a bunch of miners, Miles. You can bet on that."

  "Why don't you just turn
the gold into lead? Then they'll go away,” I suggested.

  "Wonderful.” He literally smacked himself. “Miles, I never though of that. Kind of reverse alchemy. I like it, but they'll need convincing to abandon this hole."

  "Good.” It seemed better than a cave-in, anyway.

  "Well, while we get to work on that, you go and find that soul and my chest?” Nick asked. “I really need that chest back, Miles."

  "Okay.” I shook his clammy hand on it. “What about that soul?” This soul stuff was a little new to me.

  "I don't really care about the soul, Miles. There's plenty of souls that have wandered off.” He looked around for a moment. “But don't spread that around. Just get me my chest back. And don't open it."

  "We shook on it,” I reminded him. “I'll do my best."

  "Good man,” Nick said as I started the long trek back to the entrance.

  He called after me, “You might look into Howdy."

  "Why Howdy?” I asked.

  "The soul, it was from there. Used to be a doctor or lawyer or something,” Nick said. “They always want to go home. Nobody there wants him. That never stops them, though."

  So, I hoofed it all the way to the entrance. My eyes hadn't even adjusted to daylight again when Emily was at my side. “Tell him he's nuts."

  "Who's nuts? What?” I spotted Clyde over by the water trough. He was sitting there with his face in his hands.

  "Clyde thinks the mine's haunted,” she said.

  "Oh.” I headed for my tent.

  "Tell him!” she demanded.

  "He already knows it's haunted. He don't need me to tell him that.” I don't think that's what she wanted to hear. A drinking glass flew by my right ear.

  I stuffed some clothes in my duffle, then headed for the mining office. Mr. Driscoll was asleep in his chair. “Mr. Driscoll?"

  He sat upright. “What?"

  "Mr. Driscoll, I need a few days off,” I explained. “For personal business."

  He didn't seem to be sure who I was. “I've got a business to run,” he finally grunted.

  "I really need a few days. I owe these fellows a favor.” It was the best I could come to the truth.

  "Out of the question.” He pointed at the door. “Get back to work."