Deadlands Journal Entry #2
We rode into a town they call Coffin Rock. Small wonder why they call it that… I saw a thing or two there that should ‘a been long since buried.
My obligation to Lady Loxley being for the moment fulfilled, I found myself at somewhat of a loose end. The Saloon seemed a likely place to rest up awhile – unfortunately one of the ignorant law-men of this heap of shit town thought otherwise; a person of local heritage such as myself was not welcome there. He did not put it quite as delicately.
Jack, ever the gentleman, saw that I was fixed alright for a bite to eat, bringing a platter of greased sausages and beans as I sat fuming on the saloon stoop. One of these days I will not slink away meekly like a dog when told I do not belong somewhere. One of these days, one of them will be sorry they opened their fat, stupid white mouth. I forced my meal down angrily as the sun dipped towards the horizon, smearing a blood red smudge across the sky.
Presently Jack emerged and we set to finding somewhere for our horses for the night. This didn't seem the kind of place you’d want to leave them unattended outside. Something felt… wrong somehow. Most of the dusty old shacks that made up this town seemed unoccupied. There was the constant feeling of being watched and my Paco was throwing his head around and whickering nervously.
After some time wondering around in the dark we came across a corral. Upon entering, we were immediately hit by the stench of decay, and could just about make out two bulky shapes slumped in the dirt. It was two dead horses. No other horses were in sight. Other than its two very deceased occupants the corral was empty. There was no way in hell I was leaving my Paco there, and I stated as such to Jack. Him being of the opinion that it wouldn't be such a problem, and that they seemed long dead (as if that made any difference) we parted ways. There was a nasty feeling about this place and I wasn't about to spend the night there.
I ran into the oriental lady and the Jew on my way out of town – they had the same ideas about the town as I did, and we found a decent enough place to make camp not far down the road. We built a fire in the shadow of a hill and hunkered down for the night. I took the second watch.
I was sitting with my back to a tree, listening to the wind moving through the branches, and the rhythmic breathing of my companions, when I saw them. Two man sized shapes, moving steadily down the hill towards us. Something about their gait looked strange to me in the moonlight, they moved awkwardly in a shambling manner, and seemed to be swinging large sticks, which I observed were actually pick axes as they got near enough to make out. Leaping to my feet, I yelled out ‘Who goes there?!’
They didn't reply of course, and my companions and I (who were awake by now and grabbing their weapons) readied ourselves for a fight. Once the two men came into the circle of light from our camp fire we could see that they wore miner’s clothes and helmets, and there was something horribly wrong with their skin…it was pure white, as if all their blood had drained away, and they looked kind of shrunken. One of them muttered something about brains.
The fight that followed was a short one. I pulled off a couple of half decent shots, the Jew (somewhat panicked) misfired his gun off into the darkness, and then proceeded to cower beneath his blankets. Luckily the oriental lady made short work of the pair of them. By the stars that woman can move. Nothing but a whirl of fists and kicking feet. The first miner somehow ended up with his pick axe through his eye, and the second I swear she punched his head clean off.
We waited out the rest of the night drinking coffee and trying to keep warm, sleep was impossible then. Around sunrise we headed back into town and found our travel companions breakfasting in the saloon. Jack, bless his heart, paid off the barkeep to allow us the back room for our meal and turn a blind eye to having a native and an Asian in his bar. I was too tired to be offended at the barkeep’s attitude this time.
Lady Loxley has another job for us all, she wants us to go and investigate some copper mines her family has shares in. She couldn't pay us up front she said, this town having no bank, but I know she’s good for her word and will honor her debt once we reach the next town. As far as I’m concerned reaching the next town can’t happen soon enough, but it would be crazy to pass up the $5 she’s paying. The other’s seemed slightly skeptical regarding our night time encounter, but they promised that we would all swing by the place where we camped out on our return from the mines.
If we return from the mines…
"Bobcat" Native American Guide