Chapter 1

  March 18th, 1871Red Mesa Oklahoma

  The Red Mesa plains were blistering hot. The Sun stood high, leaning on me extremely hard today. I had alot of work to do and time was not on my side. Putting up the cattle fence has been particularly rough thanks to the Creepers getting braver every night. Until the iron arrived early this morning. You think that would bring some good news. Well luck isn't a strong friend of mine. Never has been with the coming Shift storm that my nose picked up an hour ago. Living this close to the Shift meant always being prepared for unexpected storms.

  Typically a cloudless sky on a roasting hot day is the last thing a working hand would wish for but for me it was a Godsend. Shift storms are impossible to work through. With Red Rain comes the sloshy slippery and dense mud. One isn't divorced from the other. Setting heavy fence after a thunderstorm is an immense problem all to itself.

  As I drove an iron rod in the ground I heard the thunder in the far distance. It sounded like a mix of heavy percussion and glass breaking. It was sinister. It made me yearn for an easy time. Something that has forever eluded me.

  All I ever wanted is peace. A life where I can make my way with my own two hands. Each chuck of the shovel in dried dirt. Brought me a measure of that elusive peace of mind. Simple work for a simple man.

  Until the darkness always came a calling. Being a black man making a living, housing cattle for cowboys on long, harsh cattle drives. Fetched me good coin. Albeit the obstinate fool who wanted to test my skin and resolve. My reputation has eased those things as of late. Maybe, the only time I can be thankful for my well earned nickname.The Wolf of Red Mesa.

  Being on the way edges of the Reserve land makes me a hard target for anyone looking to bring me trouble. That would require them to cross into KOAWA Seminole territory for a piece of me. Of course that hasn't stopped the truly brave from trying to collect a bounty still left on my head. Hell, in my life there are two types of trouble that hunts me down. The one coming for my skin color and the other that comes for my skills. Both come with their own trials and tribulations. Then I smelled them. The coming of inevitability. Someone came looking for the Wolf.

  The heat waves hid the sound of legs of trotting horses and several stage coaches approaching from the south. Trying to get ahead of the storm no less. Being on the edge of civilization didn't detour this group from heading directly towards me.If they made this far in, they paid a heavy toll to the Koawa. Otherwise, I wouldn't have to entertain company.

  The heavy hooves twitched my ears as the strangers came closer and closer to my property. Who could it be riding slow? Showing a steady patience bounty hunters never had. Was it company man coming to negotiate use of my property for a large cattle drive? Those did come but never this close to a Shift storm on the way. They didn't have the stones to deal with the unthinkable mother nature couldn’t bring forth on her best day. Whoever it is they were courageous. Determined. Driven to meet me. Why else cross dangerous land? I kept working. No sense in stopping now. My visitors would have to wait for me to finish my tiring workload. If they made it this far. The job had to be all mine. Thunder cracked the sky like Zeus himself lanced the horizon from Mount Olympus. A terrible bolt of lightning spiderwebbed across the blue sky. The Shift storm’s calling card of it’s imminent arrival. That's when I heard a familiar voice. One that grated my nerves enough to stop me cold in my work.

  "El Cannibales!" The High Honorable, Judge Will Nagy called out. I could pick his voice out of choir of loud bad singers. Little Bill as he is known by is a unique human animal. The Nagy clan have all been predators of modern society. Wielding it like a natural claws or a blacksmith with his hammer and anvil. Judge Nagy musky cologne intertwined with a four days of hard riding body odor. Not surprising he didn't come alone for such a long trip. The small band reeked of cheap gunpowder, day old stew and Harra chew. Harra Kula is a small alien bush used to make chewing sticks that only grow near the Shift.

  A phenomenal herb that staves off hunger while aggressively boosting stamina and aggression in some Cowpokes. Their proper nickname is hellsticks. Destructive on the throat and wrecks havoc on the stomach. A nasty tradeoff many of cowboys have weighed the brutal costs on the body. Their bleeding ulcers accompanied the sound of bubbling guts gave me a head count as they slowed at the edge of my property.

  "It's true indeed Corris Lee, you are a hard man to find." Nagy goaded me to respond. I held my tongue. He always did feel invincible with his very own private company of high paid lawmen. Well paid and well armed hired guns with a license to enforce the Judge's will in Crimson Creek's borders.

  A place perfectly named for the bloodshed that coats it red soiled dirt streets. From years of entertaining judicial spectacles. Compliments of The Judge himself. The mastermind of humiliating judgement against any with a bounty on the criminally guilty. It didn't matter to Judge Nagy the nature of the offense. As long as it could fetch him a healthy purse, he would string'em high.

  Judge Nagy is a bonafide hanging judge for sure with a unsettling penchant for theatricality with the high wooden gallows of Crimson Creek. Hanging a man in his bloody town is a betting sport. With profits from both sides of the law. Nagy managed to make justice profitable in more ways than one. Other cities have gambling saloons, Nagy has his gambling gallows. A criminal's life can't be purchased but that criminal sure can have a bet against the length of his life on the hangman's noose.

  "Corris Lee Carson, as I live and breath. I see our last outing has done well for you." I could see the perfect white teeth beaming from the handsome, strong built man. The Judge dressed in solid black complete with tophat. Like I said. A penchant for the theatrics. Like a showman of death. He dismounted his horse with style. Dusting off his pristine black hat against his dark black jeans. He wore a Colt Ranger on his left hip. The leather belt and holster double stitched and cured against wear and tear. The best money can buy. With his gallows he could afford the very best. Hand tailored attire for him and his men.

  A shiny black Paisley vest stood out. Glaring slightly from the high sun above us. A gold pocket watch glinted, causing me to squint when I took in his Hounds of justice, as he fashions to call them. Heat blended with the heavy dusty cloud that followed the trail of the gunman protecting the all-mighty Judge Nagy. Problem number one. They felt wrong. They were Lacking in firepower for a long ride. They were built for stealth and speed. If they got into a gunfight the best thing for the Judge was to ride fast and hard. They rushed to find me.

  The Koawa's didn't trust the white man on their land. Ever since Crimson Creek was wrestled away by the Nagy clan. Strongarmed is a better word. The Koawa blood still cries out from years of injustice wrapped in Nagy law. Unfortunately I can hear their desperate melody. Ghosts without rest until they are avenged. If I just was a better man to be trusted with rightouness. I would answer the phantoms and deliver frontier justice. The Red Mesa way. The Koawa Seminoles evolved from a peaceful tribe to truly savage one. To protect what was left of their ancestral lands. Can you blame them? Praise God that hatred for the white man didn't extend to my skin color. The Nagy family have a saying that makes them the true locusts of the Red Mesa plains and beyond."Claim what you can lay your eyes and hands on."

  Judge Nagy is just another in a long line of land robbers and hanging judges. Warped justice and delusions of grandeur. Their bullets have made manifest the Navy will for years. They were urbane, greedy, and self righteous. Pure righteous trash in my eyes. Exploiting the innocent by placing a price on the law. That they enforced. Their interpretation of the law. Its a shame I am not a white hat. Peace can have a high cost. The cost of turning a blind eye to Nagy business.

  "Corris Lee, I know you hear me son. I didn't come to all this way for nothing. Just a moment of your time." Nagy said. His voice loud and thunderous. Walking with his hands open. Unlatching his gun belt. Letting it fall on the red soil. As if that meant his men were no threat. Nagy, the forever straight dealer in a crooked house of his own making.

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  My chest tightened from the pungent smell of the judge's gunmen. When I dropped my shovel to the dusty, dry ground. Nagy flinched slightly. Good to know he could still make the man feel fear. Two men got off their horses. Their hands held high in the air. Their frontier coats flapping from the harsh winds from the encroaching storm.

  They quickly readied their weapons when my fists tightened. My heartbeat thudded in my ears as the world took on a dark red hue. Black tendrils crept from the edges of my eyes. Veins dilated. I could feel my pulse quickening when two hidden long rifles drew a dead bead on me from a distance. I appreciated the shift in wind direction.

  "I come in peace son. As a father. Surely you can understand with our shared past. At the very least hear what brought me in Koawa territory. Risking certain death."

  Nagy's veins ran with ice. Unimpeded by guilt in any action he has ever taken. I should know. I walked in the same guiltless conscience from my own blood soaked past.

  The power ebbed ever closer. Building like pressure behind my eyes. The muscles under jaw clenched. My teeth grinded back and forth. Cracking the fine dust between my teeth. My mouth began to water from the desire to escalate this to spill blood. My stomach growled from that hunger. The Hunger...the bane of my existence. However as much as I wanted to let the monster loose. I was curious. Nagy did risk a hell of a lot to travel across Koawa land to speak with me. I wanted learn what impossible task Nagy would offer that could change my mind from bloodshed. I could settle all debts right here. Right now. In a hail of bullets and bodies. His men would need to dig deep in their bag of tricks to stop me. I flexed my hands open to close. Feeling my taut muscles constrict with each exercise.

  "Abby sent me on this mission of mercy. Let's sit down over some coffee like two old friends. Father's talking about our sons. You remember Asher don't you?"

  I considered his request. I already felt damned for that inch given. He dropped Abby's name like dropping a pearl in pig shit. Expecting me to let the pearl be. My vigilance had me scanning the hardened gunfighters protecting the Judge. In truth, I wanted a reason to fight. I think I needed it if I'm being honest with myself. I searched for the lie in Nagy as I watched his hatchetmen.

  Normally when a man lies, his body will betray him first. It isn't the story weaved but the signs of the weaver. I wish I could say all men reveal their tell the same but because Judge Nagy is a practiced deceiver. He isn't wholly human. Not to me. Deceit is the clan's stock trade. A natural instinct built from years of practice. For the common folk it starts with their skin reaction. Heightened rush of the blood. The reddening pallor in one's face. Across their skin. The quickened pace of their breathing from the sweet surge of adrenaline. Flooding through their body. It would give them chemical courage to push forward in their dirty work. They would definitely need it once I got started.

  Next came direct eye contact, to show a williness to engage. Hoping to suppress the fight or flight response in their instincts. Fidgeting, restless hands hovering over their pistol grip. Their trigger discipline is thrown to wayside. A trembling finger inside the trigger guard is all they would need to kick off death's elegant dance. Not even the most proficient shootist could hide the stench of fear.

  It's unmistakable. Wolves can sense the subtle shift in man's natural urge to hide the fear. Fear has a very distinct scent. The judge's people all exhibited that fear right now. One things clear, two things for certain. These boys would be ready to shed lead at a moments notice. I on the other hand would only need a moment to unleash hate on all of the judge's hand-picked entourage of killers.

  "I know what you're thinking son. Let's not let it come to that. It won't do us both any favors. We been down this road before. We could close each others eyes I am sure. But Abby's word would go unheard.”The gaul of Nagy, petitioning for peace with an underlying threat to match force with reckoning. What could he possibly could tell me that would make me consider anything less than confrontation? Of course he was right. Abby's word would go unheard.

  "Abby sent me son."

  Yep, that salty bastard knew the magic word. Judge Nagy, never disappoints. Knowing which levers to pull. It wouldn't stop me from reaching... Then I smelled her. He brought her with him. Monsters never change their hunting patterns. Neither does Nagy.

  “One Cup of Coffee” I said.

  The rain began to drum a soft, steady rhythm against the composite red wood table made of thick planks of Kula Mesa wood that also formed Carson's meager home. Though small in size, the dwelling was a buttress against the elements. A testament to the weather-proofing power of the prized Kula wood sourced from the Shift.

  The small room was warm from the collective body heat of the Judge and Abby. Abigail Nagy. Naturally beautiful. Yet her porcelain perfect skin was haunting.

  "Good to see ya cowboy. It's been a while. Have you been keeping up with the books I send ya?"

  Abby Nagy, the Judge's daughter. The duaghte of this current incarnation of the Nagy clan. One of the most important people in my life if I can be honest with myself. When you think of the word meek, she is who I think of when the good Lord said. " The meek shall inherit the earth." Her halo had been fixed before she was born into the damned Nagy Clan . Real shame.

  "You remember my twin brother? Asher? The Grimsby Gang took him from my daddy and I about six months ago." Abby wiped tears from her eyes. This isn't I have seen this girl rear broncos and the legendary Texas Polystriders. I can't remember the time I seen Abby shed a single tear. When i set the bone in her arm and leg. From falling off a truly honery Colt. It took a long time for her to forgive me for breaking the horse's neck. God knows I want to be a white hat.

  "They did things to him. He... He was never the same. They treated him like... They took advantage of him in ways. No man should suffer such an indignity." Abby continued. The girl kept her powder dry. She gasped for breath from recounting the tragedy. The things they did to that boy over the months stoked the furnace in me. The Grimsby Gang, real inhuman bastards. Pure Righteous trash. It didn't take long until the Judge spoke up. Placing a rehearsed hand on Abby's shoulder after she shared the demonstrative act done against her blood.

  Like a carrion bird, Judge Nagy circled above and waiting to pick at my bones. Picking apart my vulnerable, exposed soul. Wanting to take the pain from Abby's heart. Gone was her summer smile that changed my entire world. The innocence in her eyes the night horse thieves cames for the Polystriders. Catching a young girl showing kindness to the alien Equidae from the Shift. They would have destroyed her coming womanhood. Leaving behind a husk of her former self. If I didn't intervene.

  My stomach grumbled from the taste of man flesh. Their blood seeped into my gums. My mouth watered for more of the savory nectar of man's life as it coated my frenulum. I lapped at the throats of the men I eviscerated with my barehands. One of violence and savagery. A part of me still can taste the sinew between my teeth. The morsels of human meat still infused by fear and adrenaline. Nothing on God's green earth has ever quenched my hunger quite like it. I carry that guilt with practiced response as my conscience still refuses to condemn my actions that bloody night.

  If not for Abby, Judge Nagy's men would have cut me down in a hail of Buckshot and pistol rounds. I wasn't in any state to escape my own slaughter. When the red haze finally relented, it the pulsing femoral artery of a scared yet brave little girl that took mercy on a monster that night. That fateful encounter straightened my feet on the path I currently walk. The hunt for peace. Stalking the one prey I am unable to track down.

  I got close. Once. Closer than I ever have in my whole blood soaked existence. Abby took pity on a man raised like an animal. Bound in shackles. Being starved from freedom that the common man is afforded. It was her hand that stayed the executioner when I failed to become civilized. I stumbled through the shadows of my past. Unable to grasp the simple tenderness of a brave little girl that risked the ire of her father. Sneaking off any time she had a moment to. Spoon feeding me the best education Nagy money could buy.

  It was easy to learn from my tiny savior. The only human showing compassion and patience with each one of my animalistic outburts. I was wild. Wishing not to be tamed. However it was Abby's persistence of to clothe me in her sympathy that allowed for a breakthrough. Her warm smile and crystal blue eyes touched a part of me I thought I never felt before. A soul.

  The Grimsby Gang attempted to steal that from her by harming the only other person who she inherently connected with. Her twin brother. A boy, made to suffer for the Judge's inhumane choices. To ridicule the life of man. Trivializing justice for the sake of sport and entertainment. Satisfying the base need the crowd cries for in the shadow of the executioner's gallow.

  Julis Caesar knew what the Coliseum clambored. What the veracious crowd demanded. To share in the wanton bloodlust without the responsibility of the of their conscience being chastized. Devaluing life by profiting at the end of a rope.The cycle of violence of a monster who hunts monsters. A vicious cycle God has deemed fit for my penance.

  "We want you to hunt down the Grimsby boys. Bring them to justice...the Red Mesa way.Judge Nagy said.

  "They deserve a reckoning." Abby insisted. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Her lips quivered from the burning rage dangerously close to the breach.

  I said nothing. What could I say? That's when my damn nose of mine caught the scent of approaching horses. Seminole horses.