Crossed Trails Read online

  Cautiously, they moved forward. Heck would have liked to set down his rifle, but didn't want to risk being separated from it. There were no sounds other than an unfamiliar hum that seemed to come from some of the strange gear affixed to the walls. It took less than a minute to reach the door Heck had pointed to and enter the large open area just beyond.

  The first thing they noticed was the fact they could see the area outside the object. Despite there being no windows, they had a complete, 360 degree view of the outside through what appeared to be a continuous window encircling the inner wall of the room. Heck couldn't help noticing it was absolutely pouring outside if the picture he was seeing were real, and he hoped the horses were managing okay. The number of small colored lights and strange lighted panels with undecipherable figures and meaningless words were unbelievable. Several sections looked to have more of the same, but everything in those areas had gone black, presumably the result of whatever had damaged this thing.

  "Bodies," Heck said. He was the first to spot the slumped figures strapped into the padded chairs near the front of the room.

  "Dead," Silas said, confirming what Heck had already seen.

  "What could do that?" Heck asked as he surveyed the two dead men from close range. There had been a lot of blood, but it had flowed forward and soaked into the ground due to the tilt of the room, leaving the area around the dead men relatively clear. Both had been cut in two, the lower halves of their torsos missing as was the lower part of the object from this point forward. The grassy and rocky surface of the outside hillside filled the space where the floor of the object had once been. One of the men had been cut through the legs and left side of his abdomen just above where his belt would have been. The other had been bisected much higher, and only his upper chest, head, and one of his arms remained. Like the missing part of the object, there was no indication what might have happened to the rest of them.

  Both men looked to be in their late thirties, one clean-shaven and the other with a well-groomed beard. Their clothing was casual, but clearly of high quality. They looked more like prosperous businessmen one would expect to encounter in one of the bigger cities than out here in the wilds.

  "What do we do now?" Silas asked.

  "Let's see what else is in this thing," Heck suggested.

  Chapter 2

  There was no one else alive or dead inside the strange object. Neither Heck nor Silas had really expected otherwise. There were only the two seats up front, and had there been others aboard whatever this thing was, it seemed reasonable provisions would have been made for them to have a place to sit. What they did find was more than a little surprising.

  The opposite end of the enclosed metallic oval was clearly intended as living quarters for the two men they had found dead up front. There was also what appeared to be a toilet area, complete with what looked to be flowing water in both hot and cold, although neither was working at the moment.

  "This thing was their home," Silas said unbelievingly when they discovered the two small rooms on opposite sides of the hallway.

  "Seems so," Heck agreed, stepping into the small kitchen area opposite the dining table that was firmly fixed to the floor. Another sink with inoperable controls was mounted into the wall. The chairs fit into some kind of track that allowed them to move over prescribed arcs, moving into position behind the table, or to rotate so they could take in the strange panel on the far wall of the lounge-like area. Neither recognized it as an inactive version of the same panels that afforded them the view to the outside.

  There was a surprising amount of food, most of it packaged in ways they didn't recognize. A pantry filled with colorful cans suggested all manner of interesting items, but the canned goods looked considerably different than what they were accustomed to seeing. They discovered other items sealed in very resilient bags of some kind, and multiple bars of chocolate of brands they'd never heard of, but which seemed good enough. There was even a small box that was cold inside, with meat and vegetables that were clearly fresh and edible.

  "This hasn't turned," Heck said, smelling the large steak he'd picked out of a wrapper in the cold box.

  "How did they move all of this stuff?" Silas asked. "They couldn't have brought it here with the intention of setting up a home here. There'd be signs of the wagons and horses that would have been required. "

  "I think it flew here," Heck said, pointing to a picture set into the wall that showed the object suspended in the air over a place he recognized.

  "That's ridiculous," Silas replied, also recognizing the Grand Canyon far below the object that was clearly meant to be this strange contraption they had found, but shown floating high in the air. They'd passed through the spectacular region a couple of years back on their way back from Arizona. That was just after the year they'd spent in Mexico, south of the border. Heck still thought fondly about a couple of the prettier senoritas he'd come to know during those happy months.

  "So it is," Heck agreed. He'd known the armies had used hot air balloons during the Civil War, but those had been very limited affairs and required a great deal of support equipment. There was no sign of anything like that here, and this clearly wasn't a balloon. Perhaps the balloons had come loose, and this was the cargo and had dropped from the sky and that's why there was no sign of the rest. "But it would explain some things about why we can't find any means used for moving this thing." He stared at the large color photograph. There were no balloons in this artist's conception. "I ain't seen many paintings before, but I've never seen one with the detail and clarity of this here one. I wonder how the artist managed it."

  They continued their search, surprised and confused by much of what they found. Some of the small areas in the back made no sense to them, and others, while clear enough, raised questions as to why some items were present.

  "Lots of tools for digging," Silas said. "Quality equipment too. Were they planning on looking for gold or something?"

  "Maybe they hoped to search in comfort," Heck agreed. "The tools will come in handy though."

  "You thinking of burying them two, or what remains of 'em?"

  "Seems the proper thing to do," Heck replied.

  "It's pouring rain outside," Silas reminded him. They could hear the rain pounding on the hull of the object, and they'd checked the way they'd come in only to find the little gulley that had provided access was now a raging stream that was filled all the way up to the floor, actually spilling some water inside where they'd entered earlier.

  "I was thinking up front where we found 'em," Heck explained. "The floor of this thing's gone and there's bare dirt right there. Good a place as any, and a lot less work than trying to haul 'em outside."

  Silas nodded, quickly seeing the wisdom of Heck's suggestion. He grabbed a couple of the new, unused shovels and handed a pickax to Heck.

  Back in the front area, the "windows" showed what their ears were telling them. The rain was coming down in torrents.

  "Horses ain't gonna be happy," Silas said.

  "Nothing to be done for 'em. I don't see any easy way out of this place at the moment, and surely no way back inside if we did get out. If we went out there, we couldn't make things any better for them, and we'd just get soaked as well. At least it's dry in here. They've been through stuff like this before. They won't enjoy it none, but they'll be okay.

  Silas stepped past the two bodies and over onto the grassy ground, picking a spot that looked to be free of rocks, and began digging. The ground was hard, with almost as much rock as dirt.

  "That'll do," Heck said finally, when they had managed a shallow hole that would hold the two partial bodies. It wasn't nearly as deep as hoped, but it was clear they'd be at it all night if they really wanted a proper grave.

  They grabbed the smaller of the two bodies first. It was surprisingly light, and either man could have easily carried it to the hole. The man was clean-shaven, with short, light brown hair and almost delicate features.

  "This guy is a dude," Heck
said. "His face hasn't seen much sun or wind. Musta come from back East somewhere."

  Silas nodded non-committally, anxious to have this task behind them. He hated handling dead bodies, and eagerly dropped this one once they reached the hole.

  "Let's get the other one, and get this done," Silas urged.

  The second body was heavier, and larger, whatever having cut away the lower half leaving a much larger portion behind.

  "Hold on," Heck said. This one had been the older of the two men, and had a neatly trimmed beard that covered a small scar along the left side of his lip. He also didn't show any sign of skin roughening that would be expected from anyone who'd spent much time in the out-of-doors in this country. Both men had been absurdly clean as if they bathed every day. None of that was what had caught Heck's attention however. "This one's been shot," he said.

  "Shot?" Silas asked. He'd thought the cause of death was obvious.

  "Look here," Heck said, laying the corpse down and pulling back the jacket to reveal a small ragged hole ringed with blood in the shirt. He exposed the skin and they could see where the small caliber ball had punched into the skin just under the rib cage. The ball had struck one of the bones and been deflected, causing a three inch wound channel, but not penetrating the body cavity. "Looks like one of your mini-balls," Heck said. "A .44 like mine would have done more damage."

  "Killed him though," Silas countered, falling into the familiar argument about the relative effectiveness of their sidearms once again.

  "No it didn't. The ball didn't even get inside him. Getting cut in half had to have done that. Don't matter much to him at this point."

  Heck started to pick the man up again when a revolver slid out of a holster they hadn't seen and dropped to the padded floor of the vessel.

  "Hold on," Heck said again, immediately interested as he lay the corpse back down.

  The gun looked to be one of the Colt Single Actions that used cartridges rather than the cap and ball loads of his own weapon. He'd been wanting one for some time, but they didn't come cheap. As he reached down to retrieve it, his excitement knew a touch of disappointment. Given how pristine almost everything else was in this strange contraption, he expected the gun to be in almost new shape. However, that wasn't the case.

  The revolver was indeed a Colt, although it had seen a surprising amount of wear. The bluing was worn around the muzzle, and the cylinder sides showed similar rough use through holster contact. The grips, not the factory black checked ones, but of some kind of bone or ivory, showed significant wear from handling. Also, it was the largest bore Colt sold; the .45. Heck had hoped it might use the .44-40 cartridge, that being the same as his rifle. Even so, it was a hell of a find. He checked the dead man's belt and found a small leather strip that held six spare cartridges. He pocketed that, before setting the revolver aside. He also took an unusual watch off the dead man's arm and pocketed it before picking up the body once again.

  "Well, I'm glad that's done," Silas said, throwing down the shovel and dusting off his hands. He glanced up at the "windows" seeing that, if anything, the rain had increased in intensity. "Looks like we'll be bunking in here tonight."

  "Too bad the place isn't level," Heck said. "Them beds look to be soft and comfortable."

  "We can strip the blankets and wedge them along one of the walls," Silas suggested. "I just wish we'd thought to bring some grub. I'm getting hungry."

  "There's a good selection in their little kitchen," Heck reminded his friend.

  "Do you think it's safe?"

  "These guys appear to have been eating it, and they haven't been dead very long. That steak smells perfectly fine, and I'd wager we can find some other stuff that we can trust well enough."

  "You're the chef then. I'm going to have a look around and check on conditions outside. I'd like to have a look at the horses. I don't trust that one of mine to behave well through all this."

  "Just don't try going out there alone until things settle down. You could drown trying to climb outta here by way of that hole, and even if not, you wouldn't be coming back in if it's flowing like we saw. Under conditions like that, there's nothing you can do out there anyway."

  Silas knew that Heck was right, but he felt more of an obligation to their mounts than Heck. Such things always weighed on his conscience, while Heck believed such matters would take care of themselves. In the end he had to settle for making a more careful search through the ship, coming back to where Heck was finishing up their dinner, having discovered how the burners worked and making a makeshift support to overcome the tilt of the floor. The aroma was almost overpowering.

  "They even have beer," Heck said. "Cold too, and in some strange kinds of metal containers." He passed Silas one of the cold cans and explained how it was opened. Silas examined the can and the name he didn't recognize, but even he could read the word "beer" scrolling around the outside.

  "What'd ya find?" Heck asked, as his friend popped the opener and took a pleasurable sip of the contents.

  "More guns," Silas replied. "Never heard of the caliber for either of them. They had a lever action rifle, and a couple of small light rifles of a type I've never seen before. You're more familiar with weapons, so I brought one of each along for you to have a look at. Seems like we're here for the night anyway."

  Heck took the offered levergun and examined it. It was shiny bright which he didn't like so much, but clearly well made. The bore was even larger than his own .44, and a quick check of the round to be used confirmed that to be the case, although he'd never heard of the cartridge before. 'Course that didn't mean much. They were always introducing something new.

  "S&W .500 Mag," he read off the round that Silas had passed him with the rifle. It was a big cartridge, and Heck supposed it was as powerful as the rounds Silas used in his Sharps. "S&W must mean Smith and Wesson," Heck said, but I have never heard of the "Mag" designation. Were there many rounds for this thing?"

  "Three boxes of twenty rounds. One of them is half used up" Silas said. "I also found half a fifty round box for the Single Action you acquired."

  "I'll be curious to try this out," Heck noted. "What about the other one?"

  "It's a Colt, but at the opposite end of the size range compared to that lever gun," Silas said handing it over. "As light as it is and looking at the bore, I'd guess it is some kind of .22. Say's 5.56 on the barrel, but the rounds aren't like anything I've seen." He handed over one of the bottlenecked cartridges.

  "That ain't no normal .22" Heck said, as he examined the thing for a loading port.

  "Here," Silas said, and handed over a boxy thing filled with a bunch of the small cartridges. There were a number of these sitting with the rifles. I think it fits up in that hole in the bottom. I expected more ammo than I found. Maybe they have it stored separately and just have a working supply with the guns."

  Heck took the offered box and tested the fit. "I believe you are right. Tomorrow if it clears, we'll have to test all of these out and see what they can do." He wasn't about to leave behind serviceable weapons, and if they didn't like them, they would be easy to sell once they reached civilization.

  Setting the small, lightweight rifle aside, Heck checked their meal and handed over a strange looking plate to Silas with the steak, some crispy looking thin slices of something, a bar of the chocolate and another beer.

  "What's this stuff," Silas asked, picking up one of the unfamiliar slices.

  "They had lots of rice, but tilted this way I couldn't see a way to boil it. The bag those came out of said they was potatoes. A bit salty, but not bad."

  Silas shrugged and accepted the knife and fork that Heck offered, and settled down into one of the chairs, balancing himself with his boots against one wall, and proceeded to eat, taking periodic sips of the cold beer. "That's a good steak," he said after a few bites. "As tender as any I've ever eaten."

  "Wish we could have asked these fellows a few questions about who they were, where they came from, and what they were doin
g out here," Heck said as he worked on his own meal.

  "What do we do about all this?" Silas asked.

  "I guess we could tell the law about what we found once we reach a town, but frankly I don't see them doing much. It's on the reservation, so they wouldn't have any authority, and it'd be a hell of a ride from any place, so they probably would conclude it weren't worth the trouble."

  The rain abated during the night. Silas heard it die away. He wasn't able to sleep thinking about the odd device they found themselves in. Heck, as usual, was fast asleep. Nothing much kept his friend from his rest, and the occasional snort and buzz attested to the fact he was well out. As morning approached he got up silently and checked out the windows and looked down the hole they'd used to enter this place, finding the water was gone, leaving a muddy ditch behind. He considered going out, but decided to see if he could open that door they had found last night, which would make the effort a lot simpler.

  "You in some kind of hurry?" Heck asked when Silas walked back down the short hallway toward the back of the structure, stopping to pull on his boots which were the only article of clothing he'd shed during the night.

  "Rain's stopped," Silas explained. "Thought I'd check on our mounts and gear."

  Heck nodded resignedly. He knew that once Silas had a mind to go about something, there was no stopping him. He threw aside the single blanket that had kept him comfortable through the night, and turned and reached for his own footgear.

  "Stayed nice and warm in here last night," Heck noted as he pulled on his last boot, noting that it wouldn't be too much longer and he'd have to find a cobbler to do some patching.

  "Lights stayed on all night," Silas noted. "Wish I knew how they work. They seem to run forever."

  "Hmmm," was all he got from Heck, who'd some time ago given up thinking about how some of the stuff in this place might work. Ever since seeing the picture of the thing in the air he decided that there was something odd about the whole thing.