Gunther only had the one good eye, but that was all he needed to land a shot straight through the neck of the werewolf that had Standing Eagle pinned. The werewolf roared in pain and became distracted just long enough for the Chief to spring to his feet and bash the beast backward with multiple tomahawk smashes to the snout.
Once the monster was within range, Gunther put a silver tipped bullet right in the back of its hairy head. Eagle side stepped just in time to avoid being crushed by the collapsing carcass.
In a blood and guts fueled frenzy, Slade was using his twin pistols to pop putrid zombie heads as if they were ripe watermelons.
Eagle’s warriors fought valiantly. Bobcat jammed his blade into a zombie’s forehead, then hacked off the creature’s hand, stole its gun and used it to blow out the brains of three more zombies.
Fox scalped a zombified Buchanan Boy, using his knife to peal away the undead man’s hair and skin, not to mention the top half of his skull. Once the zombie’s brain was exposed, Fox plunged his blade deep inside it, putting the zombie’s lights out for good.
The zombies kept attacking, as did the two remaining werewolves. The cowboys and natives closed ranks, fighting in close proximity to each other as they hacked off and shot off all manner of disgusting zombie parts.
“It seems I have saved your useless hide again, Slade,” Eagle said as he chopped the arm off one of his attackers.
“I don’t feel too safe yet,” Slade replied as he put a silver tipped bullet right through the eye of a werewolf, dropping him cold. “But thanks.”
“Are you two going to kiss or are you going to kill zombies?” Gunther asked. The old timer pulled the trigger of his rifle only to hear a click. Out of ammo, he improvised and bashed an incoming zombie’s face in with the butt of his Winchester.
“We make our ancestors proud today, Eagle!” cried Bobcat as he lopped a zombie’s head clean off and tossed it into the air. It remained alive until Slade put a bullet between its eyes before it hit the ground. It was an epic trick shot.
“Am I seeing things or are there even more of these fuckers than before?” Gunther asked.
“You aren’t,” Snake replied as he conked a zombie over the head with his staff. “We kill more and more and they just keep coming…ugh!”
Two zombies grabbed Snake’s arms and attempted to pull him into the sea of undead that surrounded the heroes, but Screeching Owl put an arrow in each of their heads in order to free the shaman.
High up above the brawl, Blythe hovered in the air, directing his zombies in their gruesome carnage. Slade took a few shots at the vampire, but Blythe dodged them adeptly.
From his vantage point, Blythe could see a mile in any direction, and to his delight, the entire town had become filled to capacity with zombies and werewolves.
The drive was finally complete. The werewolf herdsmen had brought their zombie cattle in. With his mind, the vampire directed several hundred of the undead to converge on the mayhem outside the livery.
Gunther smacked and punched away the undead hands that grabbed him, but there were too many. The old man was hoisted into the air and held there by several different pairs of hands. Soon, Slade was overpowered and ended up in the air as well, as did Fox, Owl, Bobcat, and Snake.
All heroes resisted but they were unable to break the undead grips that held them up over the zombie crowd below.
Eagle wasn’t so lucky. With a werewolf’s paw around his throat, he was lifted into the air. The werewolf squeezed…and squeezed until…CRACK! The Chief’s neck snapped and his body went limp.
Slade cried out in anger and struggled to free himself to no avail.
Down the road, a female rider approached on a horse. As she drew near, the zombies parted to let her through. At least twenty hulking werewolves followed in her wake.
Molly Harper. Queen of a wolf pack out of Colorado. She was older, in her early forties at least, but still a looker with long brow hair pouring out from under her hat. Her leather coat was scuffed and worn, looking like it had seen a lot of action on the trail.
Blythe motioned for the zombies to clear a circle. Molly rode into the middle of it. Her spurs jangled as her boots hit the ground. Blythe landed next to her.
“Miss Harper,” Blythe said.
“Counselor,” Molly replied in a Southern twang.
“I trust your ride in was riveting?” Blythe asked.
“Sacked and burned everything from Colorado to Missouri,” Molly replied. “Every pack around joined in. These zombies are dumber than a bunch of inbred aardvarks during mating season but they respond to the whip all right. Got quite an army on your hands now.”
“The chairman will no doubt reward you and yours ten fold,” Blythe said.
“Well, my mama always said it was impolite to talk money in front of company but I hope so,” the lady wolf said. “We didn’t drag these sons of bitches cross country for our health.”
Slade, Gunther and the natives were on their feet now, being restrained by the zombie hordes. The werewolf who bested Eagle tossed the Chief’s carcass at Blythe’s feet.
“Good boy,” Blythe said.
“Glory be,” Molly said as she looked over Eagle’s muscular frame. “What a specimen. Shame.”
Bobcat refused to be silent. “You know not what you do, demon. You have taken the life of a warrior far, far better than you could ever be and the spirits will demand justice. They will demand…”
“Shut him up,” Blythe said. His undead stooges obeyed and clamped their hands tightly over Bobcat’s face.
Gunther and Slade were already subdued in a similar manner, disgusting hands over their mouths preventing them from saying anything.
“Miss Harper,” Blythe said. “I hate to give you another job before you’ve had a moment to put your feet up, but there is an urgent matter in need of your skill.”
“Let’s hear it,” Molly replied.
Blythe pointed to Slade. “This one has two women.”
“Two?!” Molly balked then looked over Slade’s face. “Eh, I can see it. He’s right purdy.”
“They escaped,” Blythe said. “I need them back unharmed.”
Slade winced as Molly sniffed his neck. “He reeks of both of them. I got their scent.”
The Queen flexed her muscles. They grew and grew until her clothing ripped off of her. She morphed into a mighty werewolf but unlike the others, her fur was luxurious -silky smooth and alabaster white.
She dropped down on all fours and scurried through the zombie hordes. Two male wolves joined her.
“Take them inside,” Blythe commanded. His zombies obeyed and carried the prisoners into the livery.
Blythe rose into the air and flew back to the Marvel, where Mr. Mayhew and the other conductors were waiting.
“Shall we begin boarding sir?”
“Yes, Blythe replied as his feet touched down on the platform. “But your men can handle that. I need you to head off to the bridge and make sure it’s clear of any rabble.”
“Consider it done sir,” Mayhew replied.