He Goes On All Fours - A Western Monster Romance

Time Heals No Wounds

She held his hand, gently caressing his fingers with her thumb as she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Colt could barely make out her face, but despite the rays of light blocking his vision he knew who it was.

"Mama," he whispered through chapped lips, gently squeezing the smiling woman's hand as he closed his eyes once more.

"Mama..." he repeated, fading away as his grip on her loosened slightly.

Emma gazed down at the sick man with a sad look in her eyes, patting down his sweaty pale face with a wet rag. Colt was discovered sleeping outside in the cold by his father, who then contacted the local doctor for aid. Charles overhead the commotion, and since he was already making himself well known with everyone in town, he managed to convince the doctor to let his wife see the man.

"He aint got much time left," Emma commented, wiping the dying man's forehead once again, "It's been weeks since I've last heard of Ezekiel and I'm sure he'd want to see him once before..."

Her voice trailed away, but Charles got the idea. He continued to pace the floor, checking the entrance of the room to make sure Mr. Townsend wasn't eavesdropping.

"I think we've outstayed our welcome here, dear. I've had my fun. We shouldn't get involved or I'll get caught."

Emma knew, but she couldn't just leave everything as it was. Not when she had discovered what was going on with the town and how Mr. Townsend would get away with everything if someone didn't do something.

"When we first married, I agreed to help you hide from the law. Now, you will help me in return. Please, Charles. We must do something about this. That man aint like you, he has eyes everywhere and there is no knowing what he knows already. I told you not to get too close."

"I know," Charles gave an irritated reply, wiping his damp chin with annoyance as he paced the floor. After a moments time, he continued, "You expect me to just go up and kill this man like I killed everyone else? He has ties, Emma. And who knows who else in town is acting as his eyes. This isn't my usual hunt."

Emma sighed heavily, gently lifting herself from the end of the bed before exiting the room. Charles took one look at the dying man underneath the sheets before sighing heavily and following after his wife. He grabbed a hold of her arm, swinging her around before she collided against his chest.

"Say what you want. I'll do it."

Emma looked up at her husband, eyes filled with worry despite his remaining cold.

"I...I think I have to leave town. Right now, Charles. I have to go find Ezekiel. He has to come back."

The man looked at her with an unamused glare, "You do realize how silly you sound, don't you? Only hell knows where that man is."

"I have my ways." Emma quickly spat back, giving him the same unfriendly look. She gently patted his cheek, causing the man's harsh demeanor to soften a little.

"Take care of the boy, Charles. Keep him safe and don't go wandering around for...anything unpleasant."

The tall man didn't seem all too pleased with the notion of babysitting a dying soul, but after a few seconds a small smile grew on his face.

"Well, suppose I can keep an eye on him."

"No funny business. If I come back and he's damaged in any way...well, you know what Ezekiel will do to you."

This seemed to intrigue Charles and a flicker of life burst in his dead stare. He gave a quick little nod of agreement before turning once more to look back at Colt. The young man hadn't moved since he was placed there, but one could tell he was in state of deep and peaceful slumber.

"How much time you reckon he's got left?"

"I don't know...which is why Ezekiel has to come back as soon as possible. This town- everything has to be dealt with."

Charles smiled, a comfortable warming smile as he adjusted his suit. He looked around the beautiful Townsend estate, his now gentle but still unfeeling stare resting on each and every piece of furniture he secretly coveted.

But it wasn't the estate's grandeur that had him in awe. No, it was something in the still, quiet air. A cold somewhat mournful feeling that fell over them all like a blanket. Emma was of course oblivious to it, but Charles sensed it the second he stepped into the dwelling. If he played his cards right, he could convince Mr. Townsend to have him "check" on his poor son more. Then, without Emma around to scold him, he could find just what was causing such strange energy to pervade the place. He was sure a devilishly dark secret that no one knew of was hiding behind those well painted walls.

"Very well, Emma. We should see to it that you are well equipped for your search."