Blood Across The Valley

The sun rose with a vengeance over the arid desert of South Monroe. Any dew that had collected on the cacti and sparse vegetation dried up in an instant leaving the critters thirsty on this day. The flat landscape looked dreary and lifeless as the sun burned the color from it. It was a sight to take the ambition away from any seasoned traveler. Especially, since it’s a six-day journey across the desolate dystopia to the nearest town and from there another four to get out of the dry bowl. The town in question is called Havens Crest, officially. Although, the locals had come to know it as Pale Peak because of its dreary location and it sits atop a plateau that rises up from the cracked desert floor with a sharp incline of about two hundred feet. When growing near to the town, one teeters on the edge of madness as they watch the sudden rise in the land slowly grow closer. On the third day, if you keep a good pace, you can see it far off in the distance beckoning you to wonder towards it as it whispers promises of sanctuary in your ear. Your eyes become fixated upon it with each passing hour, you forget to blink, you forget to drink, or even sleep. Your only goal is to reach that wretched rock before your mind cracks from staring across this painfully white ground. If one is persistent, and hardy they will rise the winding trail until they find themselves staring down at Havens Crest.

The town of only a handful of structures, most dilapidated with the paint pulling from the wood in large flakes and the roofs missing countless shingles, was nothing much to look at even for a weary traveler. The trail led up to an overhand where one could see the whole town and to the other side of the plateau with the desert floor beyond it. In this horrid heat, the small buildings even seemed to sweat as heat rose from them in distorted lines. This place didn’t look like a haven but an intolerable corner of the world that should’ve died long ago yet it still clings to life in a pitiful display. That is what Sienna thought as she gazed down at Havens Crest while atop her black mare.

From beneath a low brim hat, she peered into the settlement with dark brown eyes that almost looked black in this intense light. Her hair was tucked neatly into her hat without so much as a stray strand to dance in the breeze. Granules of sand peppered her sun-kissed face as a dust devil rose nearby then dissipated just as quickly.

Sienna rubbed the debris from her eyes before focusing on the town again and merely watched the happenings which consisted of swirls of dirt dancing across the empty road. She began to suspect the residents had noticed her presence and took shelter in their homes in fear of the stranger. Finally, movement came as somebody stirred on the porch of the general store, the first building on the road leading into the town. It was a man pacing back and forth while rubbing his hands together anxiously. He was elderly and well-fed with a belly reaching further than his short arms. He was clothed in fancier attire than most folk would wear with a flat top hat sitting on his sparsely haired head. He had to be an official of some kind, maybe a wealthy landowner keeping this town alive on pennies who the locals would call mayor, or duke. Either way, Sienna knew why the old man was pacing back and forth. She was late and he was expecting her, but since he had yet to notice her atop the cliff, she decided to let the old man wait a little longer.

Finally, another soul stirred a bit further along the road. A woman walked out from a tiny home with a sign that stuck out from a pillar on the porch that read “drugs and remedies.” Sienna watched the young lady’s white dress billow in the wind as she strolled across the road heading for the other half of the town. However, she stopped in the middle of the path and her head turned to reveal her young pale face beneath a lace hat decorated with flowers. Sienna narrowed her eyes, and she felt a cold chill run down her spine as she gazed back at the pretty young woman who looked out of place here, like a ghost wandering a ghost town. She too seemed disturbed by being watched and she broke her gaze with the stranger to flee into a home on the other side of the street.

Sienna felt out of place as well. Her mind was tired, and she jumped between fading into sleep and fleeing a deep stir inside her. A primal need she had kept neglected for a long time. Maybe, too long. As her feral needs grew so too did her grip on reality. The trip across the lifeless dessert didn’t help either and she could feel herself coming close to either collapsing or cracking. Now, as she looked upon the town one last time, it didn’t seem real. She was more convinced it was just a simple mirage, a gleaming beacon of hope on the otherwise hellish expanse put there just to taunt her. Despite her doubts of this world she found herself in, Sienna put her heel to the mare’s side and continued down the trail into the mirage.

Failing to notice the approaching woman, the fancy old man kept pacing and starting fires with his palms. A fresh layer of sweat rested on his brow with the excess dripping off his nose and staining his purple vest sticking out from his black long coat. Sienna steered her horse towards the general store, and it wasn’t until her horse came to a halt that the old man finally saw her. His face almost looked of one who had seen a monster when his eyes met Sienna’s. Then, it brightened into a wide smile that was somewhat unsettling.

“Ms. Harper?” he asked in a thick southern accent.

Sienna seemed as if she was collecting herself after the long tormenting journey across the desert. She hadn’t seen another face in the last six days or even spoken. She may have been finding her voice again, but her cold face didn’t show her struggle with words.

“Montgomery Strauss,” she greeted with a raspy, dried-up throat and cracked tongue. Droplets of blood formed on her lips as they split when she spoke.

Not letting a moment to be wasted on silence, Montgomery introduced himself, “yes, yes, I’m Montgomery Strauss the one who sent the telegram to the agency. Welcome to Havens Crest. It’s a quiet and quaint little town.” The old man paused for a moment as if he felt shame in his last words. He probably had far more ambition for this town when he first settled here, but his dreams now surrounded him in the form of decaying structures and poverty. In the next moment Montgomery snapped out of his trance and continued, “I am the founder of this little haven in the bowl. If you need anything, anything at all during your stay please inform me so I can make you comfortable.”

“Quiet?” asked Sienna as she looked down the empty road lined with lifeless structures, “for now, but it isn’t always this quiet, is it? If it was then you wouldn’t have sent a telegram to the agency requesting aid.”

The old man looked shocked by sienna’s obvious statement like he couldn’t believe she mentioned his actions out in the open like this.

“Well, yes,” he said after clearing his throat, “believe me I only sent word because of my incessant wife. I believe that this whole thing was just a misfortune probably committed by some drifter who developed a grudge during their stay.”

“Anybody you suspect?” Asked Sienna.

Again, the old man looked surprised, “no, of course not. We’ve always been a quiet town with a tight knit community and earthly values. We keep to ourselves and turn our cheek at every strike.”

“Then why are you not turning your cheek on this one?” Sienna asked.

“This one is…different,” said Montgomery as he began rubbing his hands together again at a slow rhythm as if massaging them.

Sienna nodded without reply as she looked back down the empty road to where it came to dead end just before a large two-story house. Montgomery’s home if Sienna was to guess as it was far more exquisite than the rest of the buildings. The home bared as much wear and tear as the others, but with large windows and a garden area out front that was closed off with an iron fence, everything was dead in it. The architecture resembled some European design that was close to Italian or French or maybe a mix of both. From behind the window, immediately to the left of the door, a figure stood watching the conversation.

Ms. Strauss most likely and when she noticed the stranger staring back at her she moved from the window.

“I’d far rather talk about this in a more private setting. Plus, I’m sure you’d like to get out of the sun and have a drink.” Said Strauss.

Sienna let out a breath before nodding and dismounting her horse. Her feet landed on the dirt with a burning pain shooting up her legs. The long, nonstop ride had wreaked havoc on her lower half, and she limped up the steps to follow the mayor inside.

The door closed behind her with a hollow thud, and she stopped in her tracks. In contrast to the outdoors, the dim lighting in the general store was almost completely dark. Sienna closed her eyes for a moment to rub the burning from them. Once her vision had adjusted, she opened them to the simple layout of most general stores. Shelves were arranged on the walls to display items and burlap bags sat on tables holding jerky, grain, and sugar. Though, unlike most general store’s sienna had been in, this one was horribly under stocked. Where jars of candy and provisions would sit were only empty cases with layers of dust on them. The sacks were nearing depletion, holding only a handful of contents in each one as the town rationed. Only the simple necessities remained, bullets. Not many, but in good variety sitting in a neat display case in the back of the store near the clerk’s counter. The mayor was waiting there and speaking softly to the clerk behind the counter. Sienna approached and the conversation was quickly halted.

“Ms. Harper, this is Joseph Venson,” Strauss motioned to the clerk to introduce him.

Joseph Venson wasn’t a man of stature or brawn. He stood about half the size of sienna who tips over six feet. No part of him seemed to hold a bit of muscle as his skin was sucked into his bones like some starved prisoner. His eyes were sunken in with dark circles beneath and large glasses that he gazed at the woman through. The glass magnified his dull blue eyes resembling large dreary planets. Atop the young man’s head was a mat of short, black hair dried with sweat and grime.

“Afternoon miss,” Joseph greeted and reached across the counter to shake the woman’s hand.

Sienna hesitated for a moment as she gazed into the boy’s eyes. Something was off about them. They kept shifting needlessly away from her gaze as if he was trying to focus on her but was distracted or paranoid. Sienna then took the boys hand and gave it a firm shake. His tiny hand felt as though it would shatter under her grip, and he pulled away before that could happen.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Harper,” he said with a nervous smile and glanced at Strauss for a moment, “I’m told you are here to help us with our little problem.”

“I have yet to be informed of what I’ll be helping you with, but murder is hardly a little problem, is it?” said Sienna.

Suddenly, Sienna knew what that look in joseph’s eyes was, fear. It grew swiftly by her statement and the young man remained silently while sweat formed on his red nose.

“Joseph here has a room for us to discuss this further,” Strauss piped up with a politician's smile, “it’s very secure and I trust this boy. His father and I go way back.”

The boy shuddered and left his spot to busy himself with cleaning the dust that had collected and rearrange some products to different places.

“he’s been a little odd since his father's passing,” whispered Strauss to explain the young man’s behavior.

Sienna only nodded and followed the old man deeper into the store to the stock room which was barren. A door stood between empty crates leading to a windowless room with four chairs surrounding a table. Sienna entered first, insisted by Strauss who closed the door quickly after their entry. He then produced a cigar as they sat down and struck a match off the table before lighting the end.

“Your telegram was vague, at best. Not much for the agency to go on let alone spend the resources to send a Marshal, but your urgency seemed to pluck a few heart strings.”

“And here you are. To be honest I wasn’t expecting a woman. I haven’t come across many women who’s had much experience with a firearm,” Strauss said referring to the revolver on Sienna’s hip, “you do know how to use it?”

“If the situation is as dire as you say it is, you’ll find out soon enough,” said she.

Montgomery nodded as his smile faded and he puffed on the cigar more frequently, “it is, at least, to us. Like I said we are a small quiet town with a good community. Just a humble trading hub between Las Animas and San Louis. There’s never been so much as a brawl at the bar so you can imagine our horror when we find one of our own dead.”

“Who?”

“Benjamin Carter, a beloved member of our town,” Strauss grew silent as the sorrow struck him again and he gave respect to the deceased. “He was my brother’s son, abandoned by my dead-beat sibling when he was just a lad. I took him in, taught him right. He was a good boy.”

“When did it happen?”

Strauss shook his head and shrugged, “sometime during the night. Nobody heard any gunshots or ruckus. That next morning Ms. Johnson went to visit him and found him lying in the middle of the kitchen with his…throat cut open.”

The old man yanked the handkerchief from his pocket again to catch the tears welling up in his eyes. Sienna waited for him to calm down again and after a few pats with the cloth and some sniffles, he seemed ready to continue.

“He was found in his own house. Was there any sign of distress?” asked Sienna.

“No, everything was where it should’ve been. Nothing was out of place or broken. Except for the knife that was left behind. Just an ordinary dinner utensil that was already in the house.”

“You don’t have any suspects?”

“That’s why you’re here. We have travelers who have been staying here since the murder, but I don’t think it was any of them. Mostly because there was seven in all before the killing and now there are only six.”

“Who was the seventh? did you meet him?” asked Harper.

“Indeed, I did,” Montgomery took a long drag of the cigar before snuffing it on the floor and letting the smoke roll from his mouth as he spoke, “grotesque looking man with barbaric proportions. A caveman, a degenerate that should’ve been left in his time. Long wild hair and the eyes of a madman. I’m certain he’s the one.”

“He disappeared and now you want me to track him down?”

“Yes, there is already a posse out scouring the desert for him. I’m sure you’d like to get back out there and join them,” the mayor said enthusiastically and went to stand from his spot to see her out. However, before he could work up the ambition to lift himself up, she shook her head.

“I believe you offered me a drink and I am quite thirsty,” said she.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“And I will not begin my search just yet. I’ll need to know where Benjamin lived and where the travelers are staying.”

“What? Why? The scene has already been cleaned up to sparkle and I’ve already questioned the others. They know nothing of the seventh, he was wandering on his own.”

“I still need to do my own investigation Mr. Strauss. No offence, but I don’t trust any word from a stranger.”

“This is outrageous. I am paying your bosses a large sum to have you out here now- “

“Yes, you are paying for my services and that includes filling out my own report to hand in, not plagiarize some else’s accounts of what transpired. Let me do my job Mr. Strauss.” she said sternly. Her sharp tone cutting through his anger to make him see reason.

After a moment of silence, he finally nodded with a scowl on his face, “fine, but you won’t find out any more than I did.”

Sienna smiled, splitting her lips again, and stood from the chair. She was done with this old man and his secrets and wished only to leave this place behind as quickly as she could. Before she exited, she turned back to the old man with a devious smile.

“Relax, Mr. Strauss. There hasn’t been man on this earth that’s been able to outrun me.”

Strauss nodded, “I’ve heard the rumors, Red Maiden.”

The door slammed shut leaving the old man to tremble and ponder the future of his small kingdom.