GHOST TOWN

“Hell and damnation be upon ye all!” the oily preacher proclaimed from his soapbox-pulpit, a mob of people around him, “Nothing can protect ye from the wrath of the Demon of Providence!”

As he preached, the priest pointed a gnarled finger at his devoted congregation of pedestrians, “Nothing can protect ye but the divine protection granted by Riley’s triple blessed holy water!” and, with a flourish, Father Riley whipped out a small bottle of clear liquid that glinted in the hot desert sun.

“The protection of the Lord Jesus Christ himself for only a dollar, don’t walk the streets of Providence without it!” the preacher added and his customers became a frenzied mob, pushing forward to get their hands on just a sample of water from the snake oil priest.

Curious, The Stranger thought as she pushed through the crowd toward the saloon, I’m in the right place then.

No one noticed The Stranger; few ever did, at least until she wanted them to. Her true nature was in little danger of being revealed, as her disguise of a wide-brimmed hat, duster coat and Winchester repeater across her back, had been carefully chosen to fit this time and place. Only the ‘polfrey’, a truth-seeker’s ancient, stick-like weapon, sheathed at her hip, gave any hint that she was, in fact, from another planet.

She had come to this planet, to this backwater town in particular, to investigate a physical anomaly she had heard rumours of, but could not believe to be real until she saw it for herself. Her first surprise was finding that this backwater town was not a backwater town at all. Towns like Providence weren’t supposed to survive after the railway came. The trains had bypassed this once essential trading post and The Stranger could see how that economic vacuum had left a boarded up brothel, a dilapidated bank and only the shell of a chapel in its wake. Despite the deterioration, against all the odds, Providence was thriving.

Tourists had begun to pour into the no-longer-abandoned town and had reinvigorated its purpose. Shops had reopened, the old hotel was fully booked and the street was packed with throngs of people. Providence still needed a new coat of paint, but this dead town was not dead anymore.

The Stranger found her way to the saloon, where the expensive wallpaper was peeling off the walls and years of dust and cobwebs clung to every surface. Despite this, the saloon was bustling with an upbeat chatter of friendly patrons underscored by a player piano banging out a ditty in the corner. The Stranger waded over to the bar and motioned to the barman.

“I’ve heard tell of a demon,” she said, tilting up her Stetson, revealing her nebula eyes and fire-red hair, “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to point me his way,” she said, but before the barkeep could respond, one of the saloon’s customers interrupted their conversation.

“I’ll tell you where it is,” the slurred voice beside her proclaimed.

The Stranger turned to see a dishevelled old man, perched on a bar stool next to her, grasping a half-empty whiskey bottle.

“The demon…” the drunk turned his dull, beetle eyes to her, “the demon is everywhere.”

The Stranger gestured to the barkeep for another bottle and took a stool beside the old man, “Is that so?” she said.

“Took everythin’ from me,” the man stumbled on, “You know I was respected here? A chemist. A man o’ science. What use is science when you’ve seen a monster with your own eyes? What use is being made mayor of a town no one wants to live in?”

The Stranger was taken aback, “You’re the mayor of this place?”

“That I am. Name’s Malcolm Brewer. I love this place, but let me tell you it’s a curse to be head of a cursed town.”

“Mister Mayor. I’ve heard that it can…” The Stranger chose her words carefully, “…appear out of thin air.”

“That it can,” said Mayor Brewer and, strangely, he didn’t spot The Stranger’s relief.

“Often it appears above the old town hall, but only when there’s a crowd. It likes more to prey on” The mayor added.

The Stranger’s heart sank. Perhaps this was not what she was looking for. No, she thought, she still had to know. “It preys on people?” she asked and poor Brewer’s eyes glistened and quivered as they filled with tears.

“My son…It took my boy,” Brewer looked down in despair and, as he took another shot of whiskey, screams echoed into the saloon from outside.

In the blink of an eye, the room became a rush of people running to see what was causing the commotion on the street but The Stranger and the old mayor knew immediately what it was.

“It’s back,” Brewer whispered.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll put an end to this, I promise.”

Brewer looked fearful, “You’ve come to kill it?”

“No. I’ve come to talk to it.” And with that, The Stranger took a swig from Brewer’s bottle (although the drink was not nearly as strong as she needed) and marched out of the saloon.

Out in the street was in chaos, if it was for a demon, The Stranger expected to see them running away in fear, but instead, the people were rushing towards the monster, not away from it.

The Stranger joined the gathering mass of people as they gazed up at a great, black cloud of smoke that billowed over the town hall’s worn clock face. Some braced themselves to run, others fainted as they saw two enormous bright eyes, the eyes of hell itself, staring out of the smoke. So the rumours were true, she thought, the Demon of Providence was real.

Whilst everyone else was looking up at this demon, one man had his back to the creature: Father Riley. He wandered through the crowd, yelling his sales patter, a tray of his merchandise hung from his neck. The crowd was now more interested in his magic liquid than the demon it guarded against and Riley couldn’t collect the dollars quick enough.

The Stranger turned back to the fiery eyes in the midst of the spewing smoke. If this demon was what she hoped, she had only moments before it teleported away once more.

“A drop of divine ointment, ma’am?”

She blinked. The priest was right in front of her, holding out a bottle of water for her perusal.

“Not now. How can I get up there?”

Father Riley turned to the town hall, “Onto the roof? Oh, there’s no way to get up there… But if getting closer is what you want, be sure to take the Lord’s blessing with you.” Again, he brandished a bottle but The Stranger just shut her eyes. The confused priest had little to say to this slight and so he turned to another potential customer.

The Stranger focused on the cloud, slowed her breathing and tried to conserve her energy. To teleport, or to ‘aet’ as she termed it, would take up almost all her strength, but she knew she had to make the jump before the demon did. Her muscles tensed as she visualised propelling herself onto the town hall.

A flash of deep red light and she was there.

Black smoke whirled around her. The Stranger had to catch her breath to recover from the leap, but the air was so thick she could barely breathe and barely see. The only sight was those two ominous eyes hanging above her in the spinning darkness. She cautiously stepped towards them. Whatever this demon was, it was enormous.

“Hello!” The Stranger cried into the black, “I know what you are! I can help you!” but the only reply was the deafening rush of air. Now, she began to worry. What if she was wrong? What if Brewer was right and this was a monster after all? She drew her polfrey and hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.

Cautiously, The Stranger edged closer and closer to the eyes, but still, the demon did not appear. The smoke was now near unbearable but The Stranger continued to step forward gingerly until she reached something solid. However, instead of the flesh she expected, ‘the thing’ was metal, some sort of pole. Just as she started to wonder what was going on, the bright eyes disappeared, so did the pole, and the smoke began to clear.

At last, The Stranger could see again. She was on the roof of the town hall, just a step from plummeting over the edge. She pulled herself back, caught her breath and looked down at the crowd. To her surprise, they began to applaud. Perhaps their whoops and cheers were in relief that the demon had gone, but in that moment, she realised that they were not the creature’s prey, they were its audience.

At a clatter behind her, The Stranger turned and saw the creature in its entirety. It was a human figure, but not like one she had ever seen before. It stood and turned to her, revealing a domed, brown-cloth hood and wide, round eyepieces. It was a breathing apparatus, potentially a spacesuit. Upon noticing her, the demon startled and began to run across the rooftop.

“Hey, stop!” The Stranger called out. She had little strength, so another aet wasn’t an option, so she dashed across the roof after her quarry. The creature had only just reached the top of the ladder when she reached it. She snatched out to grab its hand but instead gripped cloth. The creature flailed to escape her grip, but in doing, so detached its own grasp and fell a little way to land flat on its back on a ledge.

The Stranger was left standing over the creature with the breathing apparatus hood in one hand. She looked down at the now unmasked demon and saw, not a demon at all, but a young man, not a day into adulthood.

“You mustn’t see that!” the panic-stricken boy rushed to his feet and clambered up the ladder. The Stranger stepped back and looked once more at the rooftop, but now in a new light. Finally, she saw the true nature of the demon.

Lying on the roof was a long metal pole with a crossbeam tied to one end to form a ‘T’ shape. At either end of the crossbeam were two headlamps. The whole cross had been hoisted upright with a motor-assisted winch mechanism at the base but the masterstroke was to conceal the whole contraption and its operation in thick smog. The Stranger soon spotted the source of this infernal miasma, a round metal bucket, still billowing a little of the smoke. She kicked it over and a small, black plume wheezed out of the pail along with a concoction of salts and powders. The Stranger looked at the mask in her hands and realised it was meant to shield the operator from the smoke.

At last, the panting young man caught up with The Stranger.

“There is no demon, is there?” she said.

“You weren’t supposed to see this,” the young man stammered.

“Oh really?” she looked deep into the guilt-ridden, black pupils of his eyes, then drew her polfrey and put it to his neck. “And what if the whole town sees?”

Although the demon had gone, the crowd in the street still lingered and Riley’s holy water was selling faster than ever. The saloon drinkers and a fiddle player had spilled out onto the street, and now the town square was hosting a jamboree. Even the poor old mayor was joining in, clapping along as the revellers danced a do-si-do.

A flash of white light and the revelry abruptly stopped. The people all turned once more to look above the town hall, but there was no smoke and no demon, just two bright lights attached to the top of a tall metal pole.

Out onto the edge of the roof stepped The Stranger and she proclaimed to the amazed crowd, “People of Providence! Here is your demon, no more than machinery and lies!” she cried as she upturned the bucket, scattering black dust and smoke into the wind.

She pulled forward the young man, the fear in his eyes said to her there was more to this than just him. Someone was behind this trick for their own gain, but who? Whoever it was, this boy would know.

“Tell them all the truth. Who is behind this?” The boy hesitated, looking into the crowd. At last, without saying a word, he held up a finger and pointed at Father Riley. Of course, the priest had invented the demon to sell more of his holy water. The townsfolk all turned on the blushing priest.

“Well, hold on a moment,” Riley said, hands held up in a gesture of both admission and defiance, “Now, I am a man of God, and this water is still good for a blessing.” The bottles in the tray around his neck rattled as he backed up against his own cart.

“Now, have you considered that the demon is gone precisely because of my holy water?” The priest added but the desperation in his voice was clear and the crowd wasn’t convinced. Sensing his own doom, Riley threw away his tray, ducked under his cart and ran for his life. A few people gave chase, but most knew there was little point.

“Hey, demon-lady! Go ruin someone else’s fun!” a drunken reveller yelled from the crowd and several others jeered in agreement.

The Stranger looked at them in disbelief, “Fun? I got rid of the demon!”

“Well, maybe this town’s better with a demon in it!” a person retorted.

“I travelled a very long way just to see that demon and you’ve ruined everything!” continued another. The Stranger opened her mouth to speak but the crowd began booing and shouting. Some even found rocks and bottles to lob at her, but she was already gone. It seemed that the magic of Providence had passed and, at length, the crowd began to disperse.

The Stranger climbed down from the old town hall and snuck around the back of the main street to avoid any more disgruntled townsfolk. She found her way to the town’s livery stable, where her horse was waiting. The owner was nowhere to be seen, so The Stranger saddled up her horse by herself. She hadn’t found what she was looking for, but she knew she had outstayed her welcome.

Just as she was about to mount her horse, the stable doors flung open and a frantic Malcolm Brewer came bounding up to her.

“Oh, no, no, Miss, you can’t leave now,” Brewer said, desperation in his voice.

“Why not? The demon’s gone and I don’t think I’m welcome here anymore. Sorry you got tricked, mister Mayor, but I should be on my way,” The Stranger turned once more to her horse, but Brewer stepped in her way.

“No, no, don’t mind them. You are part of the legend now; people will come from miles around to meet the cowgirl who slayed the demon of Providence.”

“There never was a demon, Mister Brewer.”

“Oh, that’s no matter, never let the truth get in the way of a good story and this place needs a good story. So there’s no demon, fine, but then I need something else, something better before all these people leave again. I’ll not have my town return to ruin. Please. I need this,” said Mayor Brewer. He stepped close to The Stranger, almost touching her, and as she stared into Brewer’s beetle-black eyes, she suddenly recognised the same eyes in the boy who operated the demon machine. The boy was Brewer’s son. At that moment she realised that Mayor Malcolm Brewer, not old Father Riley, had been behind everything.

Brewer just smiled at The Stranger’s revelatory stare, “you won’t join in the legend? Very well. I understand,” he said and his demeanour suddenly shifted, “but you don’t know how much work went into this,” Brewer was now wild-eyed and The Stranger felt something akin to fear. She tried to step back from him, but he came closer. “The machine and the black smoke concoction, well, that took months of experimentation. Then, of course, I had to spread the rumour. Playing an old drunk who’d lost his son, isn’t easy you know.”

“You made him lie for you,” said The Stranger with disgust.

“And what’s the matter with that? What’s the matter with a little white lie? We didn’t hurt anyone and we added a little more magic into the world. That’s what these people wanted. Why couldn’t you have just played along, like everyone else?”

Without realising, The Stranger had taken several steps backward and she was now up against a wall.

“This legend took me years to create. I’ll not have you destroy it in seconds.” Brewer continued and, from nowhere, The Stranger heard a ‘click’. She didn’t need to look to know Brewer had a revolver pointed at her.

“Alright. I’ll admit it. There are demons,” she said calmly.

“Don’t toy with me,” retorted Brewer.

“No, no, I mean it. I happen to know for a fact that there is such a thing as demons and I know this because I am one,” The Stranger said. The puzzled Mayor had little time to react before she had him gripped by the forearms.

The Stranger shut her eyes tight.

Red flash.

Brewer felt like his whole body had skipped a second in time. His legs gave way and he collapsed into the sand, dropping the revolver. Gasping for breath, eyes bulging, Brewer tried to find his bearings, but there was no clue as to where he was in time or space. All the mayor knew was that he was no longer in the town of Providence, but in the empty desert, a long way from home.

“Town’s back that way,” said a woman’s voice and Brewer whipped round to see The Stranger, stood over him, squinting into the shimmering distance, “You’ll be there in a day or so if you set off now. Your legendary town should be deserted by then. Here,” she tossed him her canteen, “Pretend it’s holy water.”

“Wh- what happened? What are you?” Brewer spluttered as he scrambled for the gun that was lying in the dust.

The Stranger smiled, crouched down and said, “Damned if I know.”

Brewer snatched up the gun and pointed it at a flash of red but there was no one there. The Stranger was gone and Brewer was left with nothing but questions.

She wasn’t sure where to go next, perhaps another town, perhaps another planet. The ‘Demon of Providence’ didn’t have the same abilities as her, but she would persevere nonetheless. As long as she kept searching, The Stranger knew she would eventually find someone like her. Perhaps then she’d know who, or what, she really was.

ANAX.