Red Mountain by Dennis Yates Read Free Book Online

the house, staring at the wooden pictures on the walls. It seemed as if the things depicted in Horn’s carvings had started moving, like the moving picture machine he’d once seen at the state fair. Except these were different. They swirled and hummed with a life of their own, transforming into scenes from a hell never before imagined. He watched in horror as a herd of elk melted into vile creatures playing catch with squirming naked humans, impaling them on their horns. In another grisly tableau a group of cowboys sat around a campfire on a starry night, drinking coffee. Suddenly, hellish beings made of fire leaped out of the campfire and engulfed the men in balls of flame.
    He swore he could smell them burning. It was so real, and then again it wasn’t.
    Underwood shook his head to get rid of the bad thoughts streaming inside. He recalled the havoc played on the Wrath Butte residents unfortunate enough to have something made from Horn’s hands. In some ways he could understand why a vigilante party had formed and done what they did. So many folks in Wrath Butte had nearly gone insane. Underwood’s neighbor, a mother of four, was preparing to put out her children’s eyes when their father had heard the cries and stopped her…
    He stepped into the room with the wood stove, but the pot of hot water Logan had seen was gone. A crimson sunset bled between the boards nailed across the room’s only window. There was no sign of his deputy anywhere.
    Suddenly the floor below Underwood began to drop. He instinctively tried to back up, but the trap door caught him in the lower back and sent him plunging into a deep pit of carved rock. The wind was knocked from his lungs when he hit bottom, and he heard the fractured ends of bones tearing through skin. His left leg had snapped apart above the knee and his right arm was dislocated and twisted behind his back. Glancing up, he saw his bloodless palm looked as if it were about to pat him on top of the head.
    Next came a sickening squeal, and when the Sheriff looked up he saw the square of floor settling back into place. He gripped his rifle one-handedly and fired. Splinters rained down onto his face, but the door continued to rise until it settled back into place. Now in complete darkness, Underwood gradually lost consciousness. He felt as if he were bobbing on the surface of a black tide. He remembered taking his wife to see the Pacific Ocean not long after they’d married. They’d sat up on a cliff together and just watched the waves for hours, eating a picnic lunch of fried chicken and apple pie.
    Caroline…
    Eventually the presence of light caused Underwood to open his eyes. He’d toppled over sometime during the night, and the side of his face was pressed against the cold floor. He felt like an insect that had been crushed under someone’s boot and left in a tangled mess. His clothes were covered with damp, bloody straw. He heard water dripping from further back in the cave. As he lay craving a drink of it, he saw a child moving toward him, clutching a tiny lantern.
    “Help me...” Underwood pleaded, lifting his only good hand.
    The child backed away several steps and stared at him, the expression on its thin white face both scared and curious. Its head was shorn and scabby. Underwood let out a sigh and gently motioned the child over. The child didn’t move. It stood silently, studying Underwood’s mangled body, the stream of blood flowing from his left ear and down to his jaw where it fell off in thick drops.
    He couldn’t even tell at first if the child was a girl or a boy, until he eventually recognized him as Horn’s youngest son. It had been a long time since he’d seen any of Horn’s children, so long since anyone had seen much of the Horn family at all. Rumor was the mother and eldest son had fallen victims to a disfiguring disease, leaving only Jared and his youngest child capable of making their bi-monthly trips into town.
    “Don’t be afraid of me boy. I