Deputy Bedgley’s face broke into a lewd grin. “Your ma is at the Atherton Hotel. Right about now, I’m guessin’, she’s getting the high hard one from Burn Shipley. Your little sister is probably watchin’, so she can learn how to take it when she gets old enough.” He cackled and spat more blood. “Course, there’s some say she’s old enough to take it now.” His voice trailed off into tortured laughter.

Pritchard reached over and took the knife from Ditch’s belt. He knelt over Bedgley and held the shiny blade in front of the deputy’s eyes.

“You’d best think against that,” Bedgley said, all the mirth instantly gone from his voice. His eyes widened from pain to terror.

“This is for my pa,” Pritchard said. He thrust the knife into the deputy’s bulging abdomen, just above the pelvis, and started carving upward. Bedgley howled and weakly tried to grab the knife. Pritchard easily slapped his hands away and continued slicing.

“Don’t look for Pa when you get to hell,” Pritchard said. He stopped cutting when the blade reached breastbone. He withdrew the knife and stood up.

Deputy Glenn Bedgley twitched, his eyes rolled back, and he began to make gurgling noises from deep within his throat. Blood bubbled from his mouth, and the sound of choking, clucking, and gasping increased. It sounded like he was drowning in his own blood. He convulsed once, ceased moving, and died.

Neither boy spoke for long seconds. “I never saw a man die before,” Ditch finally said, looking away from the bodies of Toole and Bedgley.

“Me, either.”

“Did you hear that sound he made?” Ditch said. “That was spooky as hell. Pa told me about something called the ‘death rattle.’ He said when you hear it, you know the reaper’s at the door. He also told me once you hear it, you never forget.”

“Best get used to it,” Pritchard said, wiping Ditch’s blade on the dead deputy’s shirt. “I reckon you’ll be hearing it again.”

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“You have no right to keep us here,” Dovie Pritchard said to Burnell Shipley, the mayor of Atherton. “We must leave Atherton and go home.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it.” Shipley shook his head. “It’s especially unsafe for a woman such as yourself, and your young daughter, to be out on the road. There are reb raiders about. I couldn’t call myself a Christian man if I allowed two defenseless gals to go gallivanting off into the night amid these troubles.”

“I didn’t realize you called yourself a Christian at all,” Dovie said.