Work Text:
Was It Just A Story?
Rating: Teen
Characters: Buck Wilmington, Chris Larabee, Ezra Standish, J.D. Dunne. OMC
Warnings: Some gore, cussing, death – not of the Seven
Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
The night was cold and dark. A full moon appeared occasionally through breaks in the bands of clouds drifting lazily through the sky. Below, four men sat huddled around a small campfire built near a stand of Cottonwoods listening to another spin a tale of unbelievable terror.
“They came in the night when we least expected. People who once were our friends, our family.” Mournful, wizened eyes stared into the flickering flames of the campfire. “They had become horrible shadows of their former selves who now feasted on the flesh of the living.”
J.D., who’d been staring wide-eyed at the old man, blinked and blurted out, “Wait. They were eating people?” Looking around the fire at his friends, he asked, “Can you believe this? It’s horrible, poor people.”
Buck and Chris looked on from where they were sitting against a fallen tree trunk. “He’s eating this up,” Buck murmured to Chris as the old trapper took a long pull from his whiskey bottle. Earlier in the evening the trapper had hailed their campsite and offered to share his bottle of whiskey for the opportunity to warm himself by their fire.
“It’s just a story,” Chris whispered back, tucking his hands against his sides.
Ezra grinned but said nothing as he shuffled through his ever-present deck of cards.
Lowering the bottle, the old trapper glared at the two non-believers before turning his attention back on J.D. “They craved human flesh.”
“Why?”
The old man’s face became more animated as he rocked back and forth and twisted at the bandana now clutched in his fingers. “Because they were cursed and welcomed by the devil. They needed the living to fill the void left by their shriveled and decadent souls.”
“But I thought they were your friends and family?”
“Don’t interrupt me boy! You listen to me well.”
Leaning close to Buck, Chris muttered, “I’m going to go spell Vin for a while. Let me know how it ends.” Pushing up from the ground, Chris groaned quietly as he rolled his shoulders. Stepping around the fallen log he moved away from the fire.
Watching as Chris disappeared into the darkness, Buck kept half an ear on the story. The old trapper had obviously spent too many days alone and was starved for human contact. Sleep would not be an easy task tonight, not with the thoughts of the living dead running round in his dreams.
“These creatures are almost unstoppable. You can cut off their arms and legs, stab them through the heart, and disembowel them. They’ll still come after you. They can’t feel pain.”
Shock animating his face, J.D. asked, “Then how did you get away?”
“I was lucky.” Picking up the bottle of whiskey lying nearby, the trapper uncorked it and tipped it up to his mouth. “And I figured out the secret to killing them.”
“J.D., I wouldn’t put too much stock in the tale this man is spinning,” Ezra sighed from where he was leaning against the tree trunk. “In fact, I’ve heard much scarier and entertaining tales in the gambling parlors of New Orleans.”
Hiding a grin behind his hand, Buck got up and refilled his cup from the coffee pot warming near the fire.
“Were those when you lost a card game?” Vin asked as he stepped from the darkness surrounding the camp. “Hope you saved me some coffee.”
“Should be some left.” Buck used his bandana to grab the pot handle and handed it over as Vin dug his tin cup from his saddlebags.
“Much obliged.” Filling his cup, Vin set the pot back next to the fire and settled onto his bedroll.
Clearing his throat the old man continued, “The townsfolk didn’t even know what was happening. There had to be near twenty of them to start, shuffling around the edge of town. The sheriff and his deputy went out to confront them, they didn’t last five minutes. You see, they may look like they can barely walk but they can strike as fast as snake.”
Standing, J.D. moved over to where the trapper sat. “How long did it take them to overrun the town?”
Handing J.D. the whiskey bottle, he sneered. “Two days and that weren’t the worst to happen.”
“What? What happened?”
“Some of the people they attacked became like them. Seemed they carried infection in their bite like rabid dogs. It didn’t take log for their victims to change, maybe a few hours, day at the most.”
“Oh please,” Ezra snorted, “If that were true we’d be overrun with these creatures.”
The old trapper pushed himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily, grabbing the bottle from J.D.’s lax grip. “You mark my words! They will come and you’ll all be sorry.” Downing the rest of the whiskey, he stumbled to his bedroll and lay down. “They’ll be here before you know it and I’m just too tired to run anymore.” Turning his back to the group he pulled his blankets up to his chin.
Rounding on Ezra, J.D. frowned. “Thanks a lot. I wanted to hear more.”
“There’s no such thing as the living dead and why you would lend credence to such clabbertrap is beyond me.”
“Leave’m alone, Ez. There’s nothing wrong with a good ghost story now and then,” Vin yawned as he stretched out on his bedroll.
“Yeah, well what if it wasn’t just a story,” J.D. huffed and spread out his own bedroll.
Watching as Vin and J.D. settled into sleep, Buck threw the coffee dregs from his cup out into the grass and pushed to his feet. Heading out of camp in the direction Chris had taken earlier, Buck whistled a bawdy tune to warn Chris he was coming. Sneaking up on Chris Larabee was just a bad idea and he didn’t relish having to plug the holes he’d acquire.
As the woods seemed to stretch out before him, Buck quieted and slowed his pace, listening to the leaves crunching underfoot. Pausing, he looked around uncertainly when the sounds footsteps continued for a moment more and the distant shadows appeared to move. Holding his breath, Buck waited and listened for more, but only the normal night sounds intruded. “It was only a story, get it together,” Buck whispered as a shiver ran down his spine, “there’s no such thing as ghouls and ghosts.”
Silently berating himself for even entertaining such nonsense, Buck pursed his lips and started whistling Amazing Grace. Why’d the damn trapper have to tell such a scary story anyway, why not something humorous or exciting?
Up ahead he could see what appeared to be the edge of the wood and sending up a quick Thank You, stepped clear of the trees. He found Chris sitting quietly on a fallen tree, staring out into the darkness and though he didn’t look over his shoulder, Buck knew Chris was aware of him. Not waiting for an invitation, Buck joined his long-time friend and listened to the night sounds as they looked out over the meadow spread out below them. There were no lights or fire indicating a town or even a homestead within miles of their location. They were alone out here.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Nah, figured I’d protect you from the living dead.” Buck grinned at Chris with a confidence he did not feel and snuck a quick look at the woods behind them. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as if he was being watched even though his logical mind told him there was nothing there.
Looking Buck over, Chris snickered, “You sure its me who’s needs protecting?”
Buck was about reply when movement down the slope caught his eye. Squinting into the darkness, he cursed the clouds for blocking the moonlight. “There’s something down there.”
“Yeah,” Chris whispered, “came across the meadow from the east. They’re not close enough to make out any detail yet.”
Squinting to get a better look, Buck said, “Wait. Looks like a group of people. What are they doing walking around at night?”
The rustling in the grass stopped and as the clouds finally drifted away the moon lit up the hillside. The group had changed direction. They were now heading directly to Chris and Buck.
“Why aren’t they saying anything? You’re supposed to identify yourself to the camp.”
“Don’t know, but I’m getting a bad feeling here.” Chris stood and moved away from the fallen tree.
Following Chris, Buck kept watch on the group of people below who were drawing ever closer. By his calculations they couldn’t be more than a hundred feet away. “Maybe we should head back to camp. If this is going to go bad I’d rather have the others backing us.”
“Buck! Chris!” J.D.’s excited voice broke the silence, “We got trouble back at camp.”
As Chris turned toward the direction of J.D.’s voice, Buck’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “What?”
“They know we're up here and they’re coming faster,” Buck warned, pointing down the hill.
Glancing at the advancing crowd, Chris frowned. “Get back to camp, warn Vin and Ezra that we got company.” J.D. burst from the wood line and stopped. “Take J.D back with you.”
“I won’t leave you behind.”
“Guys, we got trouble,” J.D. panted as he bent over at the waist.
Ignoring J.D., Chris hissed, “Buck, do as I say, we may have to abandon camp if they turn out to be unfriendly.”
“Just watch your back because I fully intend to kick your ass when we get clear of this,” Buck growled, and pulled a confused J.D. back into the woods.
Chris grinned cockily before turning to watch the hill.
“Buck, what’s going on?” J.D. tried to stop but Buck shoved him ever forward. “Why are we leaving Chris behind?”
“Just keep moving.” Buck hurried them on, knowing the camp wasn’t far ahead.
“Buck, there’s trouble back at camp. The horses got spooked and they broke free.”
Sudden gunfire from behind them brought Buck up short. Turning back, Buck yelled over his shoulder, “Get to camp, we got hostiles coming up the hill, I’m going back to get Chris.”
When Buck saw Chris a few seconds later, the gunslinger was in a full out sprint. “Chris!”
“Run!” Chris shouted as he drew near. “They’re right behind me!”
Not questioning Chris, Buck turned and bolted for the campsite and their friends. As they gained the clearing they stopped beside J.D. who was drawing his guns. Standing by the fire were Vin and Ezra, guns drawn and aiming toward the other side of their camp.
Standing on the other side of the fire were what appeared to be corpses, their skin leathery, gray, and putrid from rot.
“Old man’s dead and the horses are gone,” Vin explained as the others drew closer.
“Are those what I think they are?” J.D. asked, his eyes wide.
“I guess that all depends on what you think you are lookin’ at.” Ezra glanced over his shoulder and he paled. “Gentlemen, I believe it is time for us to depart.”
“We need to leave.” J.D. backed closer to the others. The people Chris and Buck had been watching earlier stepped from the woods, effectively surrounding the campsite.
Staring in horror at the people standing before him Buck realized the story the old man had been telling had not been made up at all. These people, creatures really, were decaying right before their eyes and though they seemed uncoordinated, Buck believed they were as fast as the old man had speculated.
The creatures suddenly surged forward as one, forcing the men to separate. Buck pushed through trying to avoid gnashing teeth and groping hands. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ezra run into the woods with several creatures stumbling after him. J.D. was firing wildly into the crowd as he fought to get to the edge of the camp. As Buck ran clear, he turned, trying to find Chris and Vin in the melee.
The number of creatures seemed to have doubled in the time he escaped their clutches and the others were nowhere to be seen. How could this be happening? This was the stuff of nightmares and he couldn’t see a way out. Had the others escaped or were they still in the middle of camp, being attacked by the dead?
As the gunfire silenced, Buck moved back toward camp, his inner voice screaming for self preservation. He had to know what had happened to the others, though; he couldn’t leave anyone behind.
Trying to calm his rapid heartbeat, Buck took several deep breaths and shook his hands trying to will the shakes out of them. Please be okay, he thought over and over again as he neared the edge of the camp. Pulling his gun, he checked the chambers and cursed when he realized in his haste he hadn’t reloaded. Quickly emptying the spent cartridges he reloaded and stepped forward.
“What the hell?” The campsite was empty, no bodies, no creatures, not a living soul. Only the fire crackled merrily away surrounded by five empty bedrolls. Where is everyone?
Buck was about to turn around when hot, fetid breath caressed the back of his neck causing dread to course down his spine. Swallowing hard he slowly turned to stare into the gaping maw of a creature. Blood and gore dripped off its teeth.
Buck screamed.
Hands clutched at his arms and he squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to watch. This wasn’t how he'd expected to die. He was supposed to die in the arms of a willing woman. He screamed again as hands grabbed his face.
“Wake up!”
Buck stopped screaming. “What?” The voice had sounded suspiciously like Chris’s.
“Are you awake?”
Cautiously prying an eye open, Buck looked up. Chris was leaning over him, a look of concern on his face.
“Chris?”
“Last I checked.”
“He okay?” Vin’s voice drifted over to them.
Grinning down at Buck, Chris chuckled, “He’s fine. Bad dream is all.”
Taking a steadying breath Buck glanced around the camp. Ezra was scowling at him from his bedroll, J.D. was snoring softly, and Vin was rubbing sleep from his eyes. Squinting across the fire, Buck noticed the trapper still wrapped up in his moth eaten blanket, snoring softly.
“Your watch, Pard,” Chris mumbled as he gave into a jaw cracking yawn. Giving Buck a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Chris crawled into his own bedroll.
Flopping back in relief, Buck sighed. “It was a dream.” After Buck took a few calming breaths, he was able to focus more clearly on climbing out of his bedroll and preparing for his watch. Grabbing his boots and shaking them out, Buck pulled them on and pushed to his feet.
Looking around the camp once more, Buck sighed deeply and headed toward the wood. He kept vigilant as he crept through the wood, silently he reminded himself it had just been a dream and the trapper had just been spinning a tale. Approaching the fallen log Buck reluctantly sat and looked out over the meadow spread out below. He shivered with dread as he realized Chris sleeping back at camp was the only thing different about the whole situation.
Quick footfalls and rustling leaves coming from the woods behind him had Buck jumping up from the log in fear. Drawing his gun he aimed into the darkness and held his breath, trying to stop the shaking of his hands.
“Don’t shoot. It’s just me,” Ezra called as he stepped out of the trees.
Knees weak, Buck sank to the log and re-holstered his gun. “Ezra, what in the hell are you doing? You just scared ten years off of me.”
“I thought you could use some company. I noticed that you seemed particularly upset by your dream.” Sitting down beside Buck, Ezra pulled his coat more tightly about him.
“So you couldn’t sleep either?” Buck grinned as he turned back to face the meadow.
Mouth dropping open, Ezra shook his head. With an exasperated sigh he replied, “Fine. I couldn’t sleep, but if you tell any of the others I’ll deny it.”
Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”