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"No!" Miriam cries as the body hits the dirt in the thoroughfare. She is clinging to Arabella as if Arabella was the only thing keeping her up right.
"Nononononononono." It's a combination of disbelief and a desperate prayer.
Matthew makes the sign of the cross and starts silently going through the last rights for the man who told him "God is just as feral as the things created in his image".
The three watch in stunned disbelief as Aly moves closer to the man that he had just gunned down. He kneels and closes the eyes of the man they knew as Clayton Sharpe, an ironic smile still on his face. Aly stands and then makes his way back to his room of the Saloon.
Slowly the crowd in the thoroughfare disperses. Violence is commonplace in a lawless town like Deadwood. Sheriff Bullock appears with a cart to move the body. Wordlessly Arabella, Miriam and Matthew agree to take care of the burial of their companion.
-----
It's a modest service. Miriam had gotten a hold of a modest coffin while Matthew dug the grave. Arabella had the steadiest hands of the 3 of them so she closed up the wounds with neat little stitches. It was early in the afternoon when they started to lower the casket into the ground.
Matthew stood with Arabella one one side and Miriam on the other at the head of the grave right next to the little wooden cross. They stayed silent for a few minutes. What do you even say while burying a man you barely knew?
There's movement to the right that catches them by surprise. Joanie is making her way towards them. She is still wearing the robe she was earlier. She is carrying a basket that has at least two bottles of whiskey in it. She hands the basket over to Miriam. Joanie kisses her on the cheek and says” The Whoresassins are still keeping watch. When we finish here, y'all are coming down to the Bella Union for a hearty meal, you hear me?”
Dirt is moved to cover the coffin. There is still a stench of grief and gunpowder in the air. Matthew walks with one hand on Arabella's shoulder and the other on Miriam's. They walk with Joanie back to the Bella Union. One by one Katy, Celine, Whitney and Brittany leave their posts and join the group headed to the saloon for a much needed drink
-----
He can feel eyes on him.. Unrelenting. Unblinking. As he goes down main street on the way out of town he still feels all the eyes on him. There are bounty posters in every window. Down at the other end of the road he sees a figure waiting for him. No matter where he hides or tries to flee to, they find him. Everything goes dark before he sees a familiar entity. The faceless Dealer places cards on the table one at a time.
"I'm not quite done with you yet" The Dealer says laughing
The laughter and dream fades away and eyes snap open.
He starts to scream.
----
Matthew makes it to the church much later than intended. The drink in memory of the fallen turned into several. He escorted Arabella and Miriam back to Arabella's house before returning to the burnt church. He couldn't bear the thought of sleeping under the same roof of someone who had just killed one of his people.Just as he couldn't bear to look at the cemetery just beyond the church. He would find forgiveness in his heart for Aloysius, just not tonight. He was too tired both physically and mentally from the past few days.
He said his nightly prayers, adding one for Clayton and one for Aloysius. He checks his pistol and puts it next to the Bible on the nightstand. The double barrel is still by the door just in case. He has a fleeting thought about needing to work on his sermon for the coming Sunday but ultimately decides it would be best to work on the sermon when his head isn't clouded by whiskey and grief.
Around the same time that he snuffs his lantern, a hand breaks through the dirt in a fresh grave not far from the church.
----
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Matthew bolts upright from a dead sleep. He takes a minute to even out his breathing. He scrubs a hand down his face as he recalls the dream.
It had been very similar to what had actually happened this afternoon but instead of Clayton, Matthew was the one staring down the barrel of Aly’s gun. Aly had his bounty poster in his shirt pocket and was going to cash in the bounty.
It was just a dream. Matthew thinks to himself as he lies back down. He startles a little when he thinks he hears a sound come from downstairs in the church. Just my mind playing tricks that's all. He rolls over and tries to get comfortable again when he hears a small thud, like something falling off a table, followed by a curse. Matthew bolts upright. Someone is in the church! On quiet feet Matthew gets out of bed and grabs the shotgun by the door to his bedroom. He is creeping down the stairs when he sees that a candle is lit in the room he uses as an office. Matthew can see the shadow of what appears to be someone's arms being raised like the person it belonged to was stretching.
He came through the door of the office with the shotgun raised, “WHO DARES BREAK INTO THE HOUSE OF THE LORD-” he bellows before recognizing the person sitting at his desk “Clayton?” Matthew asks in a much quieter voice.
“Evenin’ Rev’nd. Or should I say good morning?” says the man with Clayton’s face. It couldn't possibly be the real Clayton. They had buried him yesterday afternoon.
The man at his desk certainly looked like Clayton. He was even wearing the clothes that Clayton had been buried in. He was covered head to toe in dirt and mud. His long sleeve shirt was unbuttoned revealing a dirty and blood stained undershirt beneath it. Not Clayton had a pen in his hand and had been writing something before Matthew had come in. He had also found and opened the whiskey bottle that Matthew kept in the bottom drawer of his desk.
“Who the hell are you and what in the name of the Lord are you doing in here?” Matthew asked. He still had the shotgun leveled at the intruder and didn't intend on lowering it anytime soon. Deadwood often reminded Matthew that anything was possible, whether it be snake gods or the dead rising.
“Easy there, Mason. I was just writing a few things down for Arabella.” The man said, raising a piece of paper. “Figured her knowledge would help me make sense out of some of my recent experiences as it were. And as to why the church? Of the few acquaintances I have, you seemed the least likely to shoot me. That double barrel pointed at my chest makes me think I should have gone to Arabella’s after all.”
“Clayton? Is it really you?” Matthew asked quietly. There was disbelief but an unmistakable undercurrent of hope.
“Yes, Mason, it's really me.” Sighed clayton. He brushed a few strands of dirt covered hair behind one ear. “
“How do I know you're not raised from the grave like Ol’ Wild Bill was?”
“Well I'm not trying to shoot you in the thoroughfare now am I?” Clayton says with a hint of a smile. His dirty skin made his smile even brighter than it usually was.
“But Aly… I saw… We buried you yesterday.” Matthew stammers out. He lowers the barrel of the gun by a few inches.
“Yes. Y’all did. And who should I thank for burying me in a cheap coffin? Saved me a lot of time getting out of there.”
Matthew lowered the gun and propped it against the desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I ain't answerin’ that. Well I suppose we ought to go wake up the ladies. I don't want Miriam to tan my hide if she finds out we kept this from her.”
“Lead the way, preacher.” Clayton said standing and gathering the pages he had been writing on.
“Are you going to let me read what you were writing down?” Matthew asked.
“I don't see why not. Read these. I’m going to go wash up a little better.” said Clayton softly. He offered a half smile as he brushed past Matthew on his way out the door. Matthew smiled in return as he watched the gunslinger go through the church. He was still holding the bottle of whiskey he had stolen from Matthew's desk.
Matthew’s smile faded and he scrubbed his face with his hand again after reading the words Clayton had written down. It was the strangest instructions that he had ever read. In quick choppy writing littered with profanities and mildly smudged with dirt was a step by step guide on escaping from a coffin.
How to escape after being buried alive? in a coffin.
1. Don't fucking live a life that may put you in an early goddamned grave.
2. Don't make deals with faceless assholes beings holding cards. (if unable or willing to do steps 1 and 2, move on to step 3
3. Do not waste air. Screaming makes it worse. So don’t fuckin’ think about screamin’
4. Shake up the lid with your hands .Try to loosen or break it. If the assholes you got teamed up with you are cheap, they may have ended up burying you in a shitty coffin. If this is the case you may be able to break a hole in the coffin with yer belt buckle
5. Do some very uncomfortable moving about to get yer shirt over yer head .Be sure to tie it in a knot. This stops you from eating all the fuckin’ dirt falling into yer piece of shit coffin.
6. Kick the lid with your legs. In some damn cheap coffins the lid is broken or damaged already after being buried due to the weight of the ground above you
7. As soon as the lid breaks, throw and move the dirt that falls through in the direction of your feet.. When it takes up a lot of space, try pressing the dirt to your sides.
8. Kick and flail.
9. Sit the fuck up. (you may have to repeat steps 7 and 8 for a bit. I don't know how long I couldn't see my damned watch)
10. Get out
11. Thank friends for getting you a shitty coffin (provided they don't shoot you first)
The Coffin
Matthew sighed as he folded the papers and placed them in his pocket. Of course Clayton would sign that with his moniker. Miriam was going to lose it.