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I am going to start off by saying that I am not a vet nor am I a biologist or "mouse engineer". I am just a hobbyist breeder with a fair bit of experience that breeds mice for my own colony and for others. I've wanted to do a write up for some time, as a lot of friends and people who buy my mice often ask me about breeding them and what is involved.
First up, if you are new to breeding mice or thinking about breeding, I want you to think about this before you do; If you cannot house 12+ mice or have no way to re-homing your litter or think that culling is cruel/unfaibarbaric or that re-homing may mean at time giving or sell them to reptile owners is wrong, I urge you to reconsider breeding for the sake of "but the babies are SOOO cute!" Keeping mice you cant re-home is far crueler in the long run. You need to think, do I "need" to breed or do I "want" to breed. You need to have an exit plan before you have an entry plan...
With that being said, I'll impart some of "my" experiences. (Please note; my experiences are my own and may not be your own. If you have an alternative view on how something should be done or handled, keep it civil, I'm just as happy to learn a new technique as anyone if it is posted in a polite manner).
My experience has come from years of breeding with good success and from reading a lot of online university guidelines on how to deal with each step.
Breeding; (The easy part)
Mice are prolific breeders. They don't need help other than "hey, look, you two make a nice couple." and a quiet area to "do the business". Males and females get along quite well (for the most part), so If you want to breed them, what I use is a large lab box type cage I put the male and female into and place it in a nice quiet spot. I check on them at regular intervals, as sometimes they can fight. If they fight, it's bad, obviously, so separate them. (Or you can leave them together for a few days, it really depends on your mice cages, how many you have and space.)
After about 12 hours after introduction, I start checking for the "vaginal plug" (Google it). Some mice will take a day, some will take a few days to become pregnant, but just keep checking in on them every few hours. Once I see this plug, I then separate the couple and put them back in their respective tanks and mark it off on my "Mouse breeding calendar" (That I will go through later).
Pregnancy; (The waiting part)
It's up to you what you do here. Some people weigh their mice, some don't. I don't. If I saw the plug, she is pregnant. What I look for is the obvious signs much closer to the birth date (this is why I keep a calendar) Average for my mice is 20~21 days gestation. (It can be anywhere from about 18 to 24 for other people.)
At about 14~15 days, they should be showing obvious signs of being pregnant. They will have what looks like they have swallowed two small golf balls, (one each side of their abdomen) and flattish across the back/spinal area. If they are just more of a "round" overall shape, more like a single tennis ball, they could just be fat/overweight. (Some coat coloupattern variations have a propensity to be "rounder". That's why I breed brindle coated mice, as they have a much cuddlier and fluffy appearance than my standard mice and I am always being asked "are they all pregnant? Nope, they are just big, fat chonkers.)
A few days out from your mouse's imminent birth, get the enclosure prepped. Give it a good clean out, make sure you put in clean bedding and something for her to make a nest out of. Nesting will become pretty hard core a few days prior to birth, so do it before that. Shredded paper makes a great nest liner, as does dried pet bedding hay (not horse/cow eating hay). Fresh food and plenty of fresh, clean water.
Birthing; (The exciting part)
As for birthing, they will do it in their own time. My last mouse gave birth over several hours. It's not like a shotgun where they all come out at once, or a machine gun where they just come out one after another in rapid succession. It's pretty tiring on the mum to give birth (think of how it is on humans for 1 baby, let alone 9 more), so it happens over a bit of time.
And don't worry if you think they are due "today" and they are not here yet. I would give it a few more days. 20~21 days is not "exact" and there could be other factors. They may go 22 or 23 days. I have had mice give birth after 19 days.
The best thing to do now is to make sure that your mouse mother is warm, comfortable and clean. If she is giving birth or just about to, keep her in a nice, quiet place and don't keep bugging her. Just let time do its thing.
And last thing is, don't stress. Mice are designed to have babies, and LOTS of them. It will all happen in good time. Do NOT try and help or induce them, don't stress them by handling them too much before or just after they give birth. Just keep an eye on them and give them all the support they need. Food, water and soft bedding (shredded paper seems to be my girl's favorite.)
At this point, mark the birth date on your Mice Breeding Tracking (tm) Calendar. This is were timing and keeping track of the time becomes pretty important.
The day of the birth; (OMG! They're here!!)
DO NOT TOUCH THE BABIES! Or mess with the nest or handle the mother. Right after birth is a very stressful time and nothing needs to be done by us. Mice are really good, natural mothers and midwives. There is nothing you can do on birth day that will help them, and it will only induce stress. You don't need to know how many there are right now, as it isn't important until later.
Again, on the birth day, it's your job to ensure that there is plenty of easily accessible, good quality food and clean drinking water. Mother mouse is going to need to get her energy back and needs plenty of food to eat and water for making milk. That is your job today, nothing more.
A few days after birth; (Exploding with excitement)
Ok, now we can interact more with the babies. At this point, do not touch them if you don't have too. The more they are left alone, the better it is for them and their mother. What you can do though, is get a better peek inside the nest. I use a small LED penlight that isn't too bright and use it to open the nest a little and shine it in there to check on them. Try not to move them and just have a general count at this point. Near enough is good enough.
Again, don't go touching them if you don't need to. A baby laying on another babies head is not a reason you need to move them. They all do that, it's fine. They often move around trying to get under the others to be the warmest anyway. And if you have to disturb the nest to get a look, always try and cover it back up, they need to stay warm and the nest helps.
At this point, when the mothers are feeding their babies, they use a lot of water, more so than usual, so make sure it's always available and clean for them to drink.
Oh, and the noise! Peep peep peep peep... non-stop, especially loud and raucous at feeding times. PEEP PEEP PEEP!!
A week after birth; (Explosive rainbow of cuteness)
This is where the fun begins. The babies are getting more vocal and moving around a lot more. You will even notice after about a week that they have started to show their fur colours. My black and brindle mice start showing around the week mark. They don't have fur yet, but the starting of it.
At this point, a week in, you can more readily handle the mice. If the mother is calm and knows you well, it's time to gently pull the babies out and just have a quick inspection. Remember, they still don't have fur and lose heat very quickly, so, as before, don't handle them if you don't have too.
It's also a good time to get a solid head count. (This becomes more important at the next step). We need to make sure the mother isn't serving too many babies. 8~10 babies is ideal. Up to about 12 is ok. Getting over 12 should be cause for concern.
Mice mothers only have around 10 nipples and cant adequately service 12 or more babies. It will burden the mother too much or hurt the babies growth or even kill some of the babies or worst of all, kill the mother. While they are tiny and a week or so old, lots of babies isn't an issue, but once they get to a point where they are about half her size, excessive babies is not good. This is why in the next step (at 11 days), I sex the mice and the sad part of breeding mice is that I have to sometimes cull a litter to save the whole litter and/or for the welfare of the mother.
10 to 14 days after birth; (See why we keep this breeding calendar up to date now?)
11 days seems to be my magic window, but at this time, sexing the mice is SUPER easy. They only have a little bit of fur and the nipples stand out on the girls. I take photos of the girls at this time (paying particular note of any markings if you get a lot of the same colour), because sexing mice between 2 and 4 weeks is hit and miss. At 11 days, it's easier and the photos will help you sort them out later.
The sad part of the 11 day inspection. (Again, if this part upsets you, maybe breeding mice isn't for you.)
By now you will know how many you have (if you did the "week old" count) and if the mother is coping or not. Mice only have ten or so nipples, so an over loaded mother can quickly become a worn out mother and it can spiral down from there. The other thing it may cause is under developed babies, runts, if you will, because only 10 can feed at a time and often the smaller, weaker ones will be pushed aside. I saw a post here recently with the OP being excited over 17 to 20+ babies in a litter. This is cruel and not required for the mother nor the babies.
At this point, if your mouse mother is over loaded and/or other babies are suffering, you have to make the decision to cut back the number of babies for everyone's welfare. The way I do it is work out how many you "can" keep. It doesn't have to be "10" but it should NOT be "more than" 10 at this point.
I start by removing all males from the pool. They are harder to keep, they smell, and they don't make great pets like the girls do. I will only selectively keep a male if it has a great colour or pattern. Most litters are about 50:50 girls to boys, so just removing the majority of the males should get your litter to a more safer and workable size.
I'm not going to go into detail on my methods of culling other than I use CO2 and Cervical Dislocation as recommended by many university papers I have read. Do your own research on this BEFORE you breed ANY mice. If you don't like the thought of having to do any of this, again, breeding might not be for you.
14 to 16 days after birth; (Big changes are starting to happen...)
Eyes are opening at about 14 days and they should all be pretty well done opening their eyes by about the 16th day. Do not help them to open their eyes. They are fused at birth (along with their ears.) and will just open when they are ready to open.
This is also a great time to enjoy your baby mice. They will be starting to be super active. They will be up and running around. Everything is new to them. It's the best time I have found to start handle training the baby mice. Just gently scoop them up and hold them in your hand. Very gentle pats down their body and let them explore your hand and arm. Make sure you are low to a surface and if they are in your hand, just gently hold their tail between your fingers, if you don't, they startle easy and "popcorn" themselves off the nearest edge when least expecting it. And do this handling training every day. They get used to being handled and will be easier in the long term to handle.
Another thing I almost forgot is, the mother needs to escape the babies for her own mental state and physical well being. Make sure that the cage/enclosure you have them in is big enough for the mother to get away from them so she can eat and drink in peace. Don't put her water and food next to the nest, place it at the opposite end or far enough away that the babies wont chase her down.
This "free roam" space becomes more important about 2 weeks after the birth when the baby's eyes are open and they are starting to move on their own. They will chase the mother down to drink and if the mother has no place to escape from them, it's not good for her.
21 Days after birth; (WHAT? They are eating??)
At this point, it's a good idea to look at weaning. In the days leading up to this, put out some low laying food containers. I use things like plastic bottle lids and just put some small, soft foods in them. Don't go to the effort of wetting crackers or cereal unless you want to. I find small, soft foods like sunflower seed kernels, pumpkin seeds, dried sultanas and some of the softer dry cat food are great.
If you are noticing around this age that they are trying the normal food and having a go at the water bottle, it's time to remove their mother from the area. This is basically what happens in nature. The mother just moves on and leaves them to their own devices. In a tank, she cant get away, so we have to sort of help her out. Leave them separated for at least a week, 2 or 3 weeks is better. If you put them back in with their mother after only a few days of weaning, they will stop weaning and try and feed off the mother again. The lady needs a break, let her have it.
28 days after birth; (Why are they doing that??)
Time to separate out the boys and the girls from the family dance. They should both be well on their way to being weaned by now and happily live in gender separated areas. At about 4 weeks of age, girls and boy mice can become "sexually active". The last thing you need is for your 4 boys getting your 6 new girls pregnant (that's about 60 new babies in 3 weeks)
Most mice sexually mature at about 4 to 6 weeks with a large portion of them on average from 5 to 6 weeks. So, let's nip that in the bud and just do the whole "use your own bathrooms from now on" before they get to be horny teenagers.
32 days and more after birth; (They are so big now and it's only been a month...)
After this, it's up to you what you want to do. They should all be weaned and separated into their respective gender specific areas. They are fast becoming mature adults (Mice are sexually adults, (think late teen early 20's in humans) at about 35 days and full adults, (think 30+ in humans) in about 90 days)
Some post breeding notes on boys and girls;
Girls, so easy, so much pleasure...
At this time, you can consider integrating some or all of the girls into your main colony. The girls will maybe do a whole heap of butt sniffing and rough housing to sort out who is the boss and what the colony hierarchy is. They don't really damage each other, it's more like a slap fight without the handbags. Girls tend to integrate really well...
Boys... were do I start with these monsters...
If you remove a boy from your original family group for any longer than say, an hour or so, there is a high chance that they will fight on return. If you remove a boy or separate boys for any long length of time (eg: a day or more), they wont like being put back together, especially if they can smell the female mice next door. Boys need to either be kept together from birth or a very young age, or kept apart. You cant easily bring another male mouse and just throw them in a cage with an existing male mouse. They WILL try and kill each other. This is not handbags at 5 paces like the girls, it's CoD, MW, Fortnite, Apex Legends and UFC all rolled into one, kind of fighting.
Oh, and did I mention the SMELL! If they can smell females, you are going to get the boys spraying their pheromones all over their cage. And spray... And spray...
Important notice in addition to keeping mice in a family unit;
And just so you know, mice don't have that whole "ewww, but you're my brothesister" thing humans have. They will happily have sex with their brothesistemothefathechildren etc. and happily make more mice. So, don't think you can keep different sex mice together because "they are from the same family" and not expect them to have more babies.
Because, they will...
If you got this far, you may just be ready to have a go at breeding mice. Again, everyone's experience my be different. I have only outlined my experience and what works for me.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask, but remember, I am not an expert, I am a hobbyist.
If you have any alternative views, feel free to share them as well, as I am sure there are some things I have missed. If I can think of anything later, I will certainly add them to this post or correct any errors I have made.

When a body is found 600 miles away... Extensive two part write up on the bizarre case of Judy Smith (1997). Part 1 of 2.

Hello everyone, for the last few months I have been creating long form write-ups on a variety of unsolved cases. If you are interested in other lengthy write ups you can find them on my profile- https://www.reddit.com/useQuirky-Moto.
Months ago, I was asked to cover the inexplicable case of Judy Smith, a woman who went missing from Philadelphia or perhaps Massachusetts, only for her body to be found in North Carolina months later. The case was famously covered on the show Unsolved Mysteries, and it is strange enough to warrant a long, hard look at the case and a comprehensive timeline. I hope you are able to learn something new about this semi well-known case.
Background
Judy Smith was born Judith Eldridge in Massachusetts in 1946. Right out of high school Judy married for the first time. Her husband and she had been married very shortly when in an attemot to avoid the draft, he fled to Sweden. Judy went in search of her young husband but soon returned to the states empty handed and filed for divorce. Years later, Judy married Charles Bradford a man who worked in the racehorse industry. They had two children together, Craig and Amy, but unfortunately the marriage did not last and soon Judy found herself jobless and raising two children by herself. Rather than fret, Judy got a job and enrolled in nursing school. Judy was known to study in all of her free time and soon became a successful home health care nurse. In 1986 at age 40, Judy was caring for a man who was recovering from throat surgery when she met her patient’s son, a well to do lawyer named Jeffrey Smith. Jeffrey said he was impressed by how Judy cared for his father and asked her on a date. Judy and Jeff had several things in common, both had been divorced single parents who raised children alone, and Jeffrey worked in healthcare as well, except he was a lawyer. The couple both enjoyed going to plays and Celtics basketball games. After seven years together, Jeff and Judy moved in together and three years later the couple married in Nov., 1996.
According to friends and family, Judy was a rather assertive and independent person. She was no stranger to travelling alone. Judy had been to Europe on her own a few times, and when her children were pre-teens, she took them to Europe for a backpacking adventure. Judy also independently traveled to Thailand where she went hiking and visited friends. While Judy wasn’t the epitome of fitness, she was an active person who enjoyed walking, hiking, and sightseeing. She was also known to be a go-getter who once helped an AIDS patient who was having a medical crisis on a plane. So, while Judy was kindhearted and considerate, she wasn’t thought to be naive and was able to take care of herself in a variety of different situations.
The disappearance
Five months into her new marriage on April 9th 1997, Jeffrey prepared to attend a conference in Philadelphia that was taking place from Wednesday April 9th-Friday April 11th at the Double Tree hotel in downtown Philadelphia. Judy decided to accompany her husband to Philadelphia and planned to do some sightseeing in the area. Afterwards, the Smiths were going to New Jersey to spend the weekend with some friends before flying back home.
On April 9th in the morning, Judy accompanied her husband to Logan International Airport to fly to Philadelphia, but discovered at the gate that she could not board as she did not have her photo ID. Judy encouraged Jeffrey to take the 1:30 pm flight and assured him that she would take a flight later that day and meet him in Philadelphia. According to relatives, the Smiths took public transport to the airport and Judy apparently took the bus back home and retrieved her ID. Jeffrey flew to the conference while Judy returned home and booked a flight for later that day. Judy boarded a 7:30 pm flight and arrived at the hotel in Philadelphia at approximately 9:30 pm.
Once at the hotel, the couple purchased some snacks and went to bed. The next morning Jeffrey awoke and ate breakfast at the complimentary buffet downstairs while his wife was still asleep. When he returned to the room Judy was in the shower. The two talked about several things, and Judy explained that she planned on taking the PHLASH bus in order to see the famous sights such as the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. The Smiths planned on meeting up at the hotel in the evening to attend the conference’s 6 pm cocktail party together. With that squared away, Jeffrey attended the conference. Sometime in between 9 and 10 am a hotel concierge recalled seeing a woman matching Judy’s description ask how to get to the PHLASH bus stop. The woman was in her 50s, with shortish hair, wearing a dark colored coat, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes, carrying a bright red backpack. (Picture of the Judy wearing the backpack here).
At approximately 5:30 pm Jeffrey who was done with the day’s sessions returned to the hotel room expecting to find Judy waiting for him. Judy wasn’t there, so Jeffrey attended the cocktail hour in the hopes his wife was already visiting at the party, but she wasn’t there either. For the next 45 minutes, Jeffrey floated between the room and the party hoping to find Judy. At approximately 6:15 pm Jeffrey told the concierges that his wife had not returned from sightseeing and the hotel staff began calling local hospitals. At 6:30 pm, Jeffrey hopped in a taxi and instructed the driver to take the PHLASH bus route slowly so he could look for his wife. In one interview Jeffrey recalled that he made the driver go so slow it angered those stuck behind him. After a few hours without any sign of Judy, Smith called the police to report his wife missing. Shockingly, the PPD told Jeffrey that he couldn’t file a report until it had been twenty-four hours since the last final sighting of Judy. After lodging some complaints with some high-ranking officials within the city, a missing person’s report was taken for Judy Smith on the morning of April 11th, 1997 (Lewis, 1997).
Jeffrey called his step children and asked them to check the house in case Judy had gone home, and he also asked that they would check the answering machine, but there were no messages of note and the house was empty.
A check of the hotel room showed that Judy had left with her signature red backpack, her wallet, the jewelry she normally wore including a diamond engagement band and a simple silver wedding ring, and the clothes on her back. Jeffrey estimated that she had approximately $200 dollars with her at the time.
According to later interviews with Philadelphia investigators, Judy, or someone with her name did in fact buy a USair ticket on the 7:30 pm flight into Philadelphia. Her ticket was used to make the flight and her seat was occupied on the flight into Philadelphia (Justiceforjudy.org). At the time of the Smiths’ trip, regulations that required photo identification to board a plane had only been in effect for 18 months and Judy had flown only one other time during that time frame. Additionally, police have a luggage tag from Judy’s suitcase that showed that she took the 7:30 pm flight, and that her bag did not travel to Philadelphia with Jeffrey earlier in the day (AP, Oct 4th, 1997).
Sightings
As news of Judy’s disappearance spread, many people called the police station to report various sightings of Judy.
One PHLASH driver remembered picking up Judy in the early afternoon at Front and South streets, a stop near the Double Tree.
There was also a reported sighting of Judy entering the Greyhound bus station at 11th and Filbert sometime in the early afternoon. This station is a common place for tourists to use the bathroom and is only a 10-minute walk to the DoubleTree hotel. One report claims Judy was seen entering and then exiting the station but most reports mention only entering the station. This area was close to Philadelphia’s Chinatown and Jeffrey speculated that Judy may have gone to Chinatown for lunch as she loved both Chinese and Thai food, but no restaurant owners remembered seeing Judy that day.
There was yet another sighting of a woman who looked like Judy at around 3 pm near the hotel; witnesses claimed this woman seemed disoriented.
A number of sightings were reported over the next few days in the waterfront area of the city called Penn’s Landing. A variety of people claimed to have seen Judy. Some witnesses said she seemed confused or dazed. Judy’s two children, her son in law Jay, and Jeffrey looked into these sightings and discovered that there was a homeless woman in the area who looked strikingly similar to Judy and it is believed that many witnesses saw this woman rather than Judy Smith. This local resident looked so similar to Judy that at one point Judy’s son Craig crossed the street thinking he had discovered his mother, only for it to be the other woman. Police officers and volunteers stopped this woman a number of times as well.
One transient in the area, a man named David, was insistent that he saw Judy, not the other woman, on the night of April 10th in the Penn’s landing area, either resting or sleeping on the bench. He was insistent it was Judy, and not the other woman as he knew the other woman from the neighborhood. Judy’s son believes this story is credible as David was coherent and very willing to be interviewed, even though there was nothing to be gained from his testimony and he was simply happy to help the family. He also identifed Judy from a collection of photos, something many other witnesses were unable to do.
On April 11th an employee at a Macy’s department store in Deptford, New Jersey believed that she interacted with Judy Smith in the morning on that day. She described the clothes Judy wore, right down to the old red backpack. This shopper told the employee, that she was buying some dresses for her daughter but laughed because her daughter often disliked the pieces that she purchased for her. Judy’s family confirmed that this was acurate and affirmed that Judy sometimes shopped at Macy’s. The customer appeared to be slightly disoriented as she asked a young woman in the store to leave with her, thinking that the other customer was her daughter or a someone else she knew. One report says that Judy asked another customer in the store about menopause, a very odd subject to talk about, especially with someone you don’t know in a department store.
This mall complex was in Deptford, New Jersey, a bus ride away from Philadelphia, across the Delaware River. According to newspaper reports, NJ Transit Buses had routes which traveled from downtown Philly to Deptford hourly, and the stop was very close to the mall the sighting took place at, meaning it was possible for Judy to have boarded the bus and ended up in Deptford quite easily. Unfortunately, the Macy’s didn’t have security footage which showed this customer and the woman paid for her purchases in cash.
After a second story ran in the newspaper on April 14th, a variety of other witnesses came forward with stories. The most famous report came from a Society Hill hotel employee who explained that a woman who matched Judy’s description stayed in the hotel from April 13th-15th. The woman appeared to have psychiatric problems and did a variety of strange things during her stay such as touch herself very noticeably in front of the window (it’s unknown if this was in her room or in the lobby), speak in tongues, and finally claimed that “the emperor” would help her pay for her stay at the hotel. This wacky guest was remembered by several employees including the hotel manager, a woman named Abby Gainer, who alerted the police. The strange guest told the employees that she wanted to stay at the hotel for another night but didn’t have the funds to do so. She later said she would get the money via a Western Union wire transfer from “the emperor” (Altman, 1997).
The nearby Best Western Hotel had a similar situation with a similar woman. Concierge Tyrone Taylor remembered that on the 15th, a woman matching this description entered the hotel to use the telephone in the late afternoon. The woman was speaking loudly and said that “the emperor of China” was going to pay for her stay as she did not have the cash to pay for a night at the hotel. Taylor reported that the woman was well dressed and did not appear to be a transient. Both hotel employees reported that the woman was a heavyset blonde in her 50s, wearing heavy dark makeup, eye glasses with tape on the side, and nicer clothes. Gainer reported the woman was sporting an expensive looking scarf with camels and roses on it. The woman, who signed in as "H. K. Rich/Collins," did not have any luggage with her and was wearing very different clothes than Judy was last seen in. When Taylor called the police to report his sighting, he gave the strange guest a call (she must have left a telephone number) and told her she could have a free night at the hotel. She arrived at the Best Western but police decided that the woman was not Judy Smith (Altman, 1997). The hotel sightings were nothing more than a red herring. Over the next few months various sightings were reported but none seemed to pan out. Many of the sightings were believed to be other people who looked like Judy. After all history has shown that false eyewitness sightings are incredibly common in cases of missing persons.
Philadelphia PD’s investigation
Philadelphia PD launched an inquiry into the disappearance of Judy Smith on April 11th, 1997. Jeffrey tried to report Judy as missing in the late evening hours of April 10th, but the police told him to wait 24 hours. Smith, however, was a well-connected man and after a few complaints to both a Pennsylvania state representative and the mayor (both men were attorneys and knew Jeffrey from previous work functions), Jeffrey was able to file a report in the early morning hours of the 11th. The Smith family made and hung flyers in the area. Judy’s children joined the search and followed up on sightings around the tourist areas of Philly. Police interviewed Jeffrey, Judy’s children, and others in order to retrace Judy’s last steps. Judy left behind her passport at her home in Massachusetts meaning she could not have easily left the county. The Smith’s two landline records were checked but nothing out of the ordinary was found.
After interviews and searches of the area, Philadelphia PD announced that they believed Judy had never made it to Pennsylvania at all and speculated that Judy went missing from the Boston area. This speculation was based on a couple of things.
First, investigators did not believe Jeffrey’s story that Judy couldn’t catch the flight due to a lack of photo ID. Police thought that this story was odd and did not believe a seasoned traveler like Judy would forget her license at home before heading to the airport.
Later investigation showed that someone named Judith Smith took a 7:30pm flight into Philadelphia and flight manifest showed that the ticket was used to make the flight that evening, however, the entire incident is still odd to many amateur sleuths and professional investigators.
Another detective thought it was odd that while Judy had clothes and belongings in the hotel room, she didn’t have any cosmetics with her. Further, detectives noticed that there were few soiled items of clothing in the room meaning that if Judy was in Philadelphia on the 10th, she wore the same jeans and coat that she was wearing the night before. Judy’s children reported that this wasn’t uncommon for their mother as she wasn’t a frilly person. They also said that their mother only wore makeup on occasion and not while traveling so these things didn’t seem out of the ordinary to them. (Personally, I have also wondered if Judy did have some makeup, but it was in her backpack at time. I know plenty of women who don’t wear much makeup, but if you looked in their purse or bag you might find some lip stick or powder.)
Investigators went on to say that no one but Jeffrey could place Judy in Philadelphia during this time frame. This announcement resulted in several eyewitnesses who claimed that they had seen Judy at the hotel. One receptionist from the hotel claimed that on April 9th in between 9-10 pm, she saw Judy arrive at the hotel and greet her husband in the lobby. She said that Jeffrey gave Judy flowers and the two appeared to be apologizing to each other. (Jeffrey said this was the case except Judy gave him the flowers). One concierge remembered a woman in her 50s with a coat and old red backpack ask him how to get to the PHLASH bus stop at around 10 am on April 10th. He knew it was after 9 am because that is when his shift started. Finally, a conference goer named Carmen Catazone, who was sitting in the lobby also recalled the flower incident from the night before. The woman did not know Jeffrey personally, but recognized him from the conference. Jeffrey was a moderator for a variety of sessions and was very overweight so he was easily recognizable. These witness’ accounts seem to line up with Jeffrey’s story. As far as I can tell the flower story had not been released to the press at this point.
Finally, Philadelphia PD divulged that Jeffrey wasn’t fully cooperative, as he wouldn’t submit to a polygraph. Jeffrey denies this and said that as a lawyer he knew that polygraphs are fallible. Further, he claims that he was willing to take a lie detector if it was given by an outside agency such as the FBI, but Philadelphia police declined this scenario. These are the four reasons investigators used in order to prop up their theory that Judy wasn’t in Philadelphia at all. Despite witness sightings, this theory is a popular on online to this day.
Aftermath and Discovery
After several weeks Jeffrey returned to the Boston area and tried to resume his normal life. He drastically cut back his hours at the office reporting that he could not focus on his work. Smith attempted to keep his wife’s case in the spotlight doing interviews whenever he could and eventually landing a spot on the show Unsolved Mysteries. On the show, one friend of the couple called the marriage “tenuous” but modern articles on the case mention that the police could find no one who reported concerns like these about the couples’ relationship. In independent interviews Judy’s adult children denied witnessing any warning signs in their mother’s new marriage. Eventually, Jeffrey hired three private investigators to look for Judy. The PIs faxed over 9,000 missing posters to police departments and hospitals all over the country hoping that someone would recognize Judy.
Five months after her disappearance in September 1997, a man and his son were hunting in the Pisgah National Forest near Candler, North Carolina, a short drive from the city of Asheville. On a steep incline one-quarter mile from a picnic area, which itself was a mile from hike from the nearest parking area, the duo found what appeared to be a human bone. They alerted the police who responded to the scene. Over an area approximately 300 feet in diameter, investigators found most of a human skeleton which had been wrapped in a blue blanket and buried in a very shallow grave. Scavenging animals had dug up the skeleton and a few bones had been carried away. The skeleton was determined to be female. The woman was dressed in thermal underwear under her jeans, hiking boots, socks, a t-shirt, a bra and a jacket. Nearby in two different holes, a blue vinyl backpack and a men’s shirt had been buried. The backpack contained some winter clothing and 80 dollars. The shirt contained a pair of $110 Bolle brand sunglasses, as well an additional $87. A paperback mystery novel was also found nearby. She carried no ID. The slope where the body was discovered was near some hiking trails, but the hill itself was steep and at an elevation of 4,000 feet, the search was difficult. The incline was so severe that one investigator crushed his sciatic nerve attempting to search the area, an injury which required major surgery.
Early coverage of the body’s discovery in the Asheville Citizen Times, initially reported that the police found a body belonging to a woman who they believed to be in her 20s dressed in hiking clothes (Ball, 1997). Several days later, the medical examiner assessed the bones and concluded that the skeleton was that of white woman in her 40s or 50s, who was about 5’3” tall with shortish light brown hair. There were cut marks in the woman’s bra and t-shirt which indicated that she had been stabbed in the chest area, however, no cause of death could be determined. Some reports mention that there was trauma to the woman’s ribs. The decedent also had a severely arthritic right knee (some reports say it was her left knee), extensive fillings and dental work in her molars, and some animal hair on her shirt, which may have been horse hair. The woman did not seem to be a transient due to her nice clothes and dental work. The death was ruled a homicide as the woman had been wrapped in a blanket post mortem and buried. The ME determined that the body had been there for 1-2 years prior. For several weeks the skeleton remained nameless in the ME’s office.
On September 9th, a small blurb about the unidentified body ran in an Asheville, North Carolina paper. 65 miles away in Franklin, NC, an ER physician named Parker Davis was looking at missing poster which had been faxed to the hospital he worked at when he noticed that the woman on the poster had a severely arthritic knee. He remembered the story of the skeleton from the paper who had a similar knee problem. On a whim he called the police who were able to get a copy of Judy’s missing poster. After a preliminary check, the ME contacted Jeffrey in order to obtain a copy of Judy’s dental records. The records were a match, and by the end of September 1997, Judy had her name back. Friends and family were also able to identify Judy’s diamond engagement band with a pear-shaped stone and wedding ring which had been found on or near the body. Some early reports say that the woman had no jewelry and that Judy’s wedding ring was missing, but later reports say that it was found near the body. The area of the burial was searched on at least three occasions so it is possible the rings were not found until later. Missing was Judy’s wallet, red backpack, and some jewelry that she typically wore (it’s unclear what jewelry this is referring to). The coat she was last seen wearing was nowhere to be found and the clothes she was dressed in, as well as those in the backpack were unable to be identified by family or friends. The shirt buried nearby was a men’s shirt and was believed to belong to the killer, not Judy. Furthermore, the sunglasses did not appear to be Judy’s as Judy’s kids said she wasn’t the type to spend over $100 on sunglasses. The sunglasses are an athletic style and to me look like men’s or unisex sport sunglasses.
Buncombe County Investigation
Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department took over the case from the PPD after Judy’s identification. Once it was determined that Judy was the woman in the woods, several residents in and around Asheville reported that they had seen Judy or had interacted with her in the April shortly after she was last seen in Philadelphia. For example, one woman thought Judy had stayed at her hotel from April 10th-12th, one woman who worked at a souvenir shop near the Biltmore house (a tourist attraction near Asheville) thought that she spoke to Judy who said she was from Boston and that her husband was a lawyer. Another woman who worked in a store recalled that Judy with her red backpack. She claims that Judy bought a toy truck and approximately $30 worth of sandwiches. There were two other sightings of a person resembling Judy in the area in a gray sedan. One person claimed to have seen Judy near the Pisgah National Forest in a gray sedan chock full of stuff. This witness said that the woman was looking for a place to camp. Another person saw a woman in a gray sedan in the same area. All sightings occurred in the week or so after Judy was last seen in Philadelphia. Of course, it goes without saying that, eyewitness testimony can be unreliable and the human mind is susceptible to suggestion.
North Carolina investigators traveled to Philadelphia to retrace Judy’s steps. They have said that they don’t believe that PPD did a poor job but simply wanted to cover their bases. Two detectives flew to Philadelphia and determined that Judy probably been there at least briefly before traveling to the Pisgah National Forest. They reported that there was no indication that Judy had been abducted or otherwise forced to travel south. It appeared she at least started the journey of her own volition. In all the sightings of Judy in North Carolina, she was alone.
Buncombe county deputies were able to rule out Jeffrey as a suspect rather quickly, although they concede that anything is possible and Jeffrey could be involved however unlikely it seems. Jeffrey was ruled out based on his size and health. Jeffrey was a morbidly obese man who investigators noted began huffing and puffing when walking quickly or climbing stairs. Because of this they did not believe Jeffrey could have disposed of his wife’s body especially in such an inaccessible area of the forest. Furthermore, they could find no evidence that Jeffrey rented a car in Philadelphia adding to the logistical problems with Jeffrey being a suspect. On top of his lack of car, Jeffrey had less than 12 hours to dispose of Judy’s body as he was seen in the lobby of the hotel at 9:30 pm, and then was moderating a session of the conference at 9:30 am. Driving to the Pisgah National Forest from Philadelphia takes approximately nine hours one way meaning he did not have time to kill and dispose of his wife. One podcast on the case mentions that police could find no large withdrawals of money from the Smith’s accounts which could have indicated the hiring of a hit man or a paid accomplice. (I could find no other corroboration of this claim so take this with a grain of salt.) Jeffrey also kept his wife’s case in the spotlight and suffered many hardships in the wake of his wife’s disappearance. Besides the one woman who was interviewed on Unsolved Mysteries, no other friends or family reported that there were issues in marriage that they were aware of.
Philadelphia police also struggled with Jeffrey’s size as carrying and disposing of a dead body is quite taxing and it is doubtful that Jeffrey could have done this on his own. However, they say that Jeffrey is still as suspect as he could have killed his wife in Boston or had an accomplice.
With the most obvious suspect cleared, investigators moved on to other lines of inquiry. They searched the surrounding areas hoping to find people who had seen Judy which is how the discovery of the woman in the gray car was made. Police also searched a nearby horse farm as Judy was known to like horses and had what could have been horse hair on her body, but nothing definitive was found.
Other information

Philadelphia investigators looked at the Smith’s phone records and determined that there was no unusual activity on either of their phone lines that would indicate that either of the Smiths were having affairs. Neither Jeffrey or Judy had cell phones. If Judy was having an affair at the time, none of her friends could provide any insight or speculate as to who it was. There was a computer in the house which was searched, but it is unknown if the computer was connected to the internet.
When Judy went missing Jeffrey believed that she had approximately $200 on her person. About $500 dollars in cash was found among Judy’s things in the hotel room. Judy also disappeared with her ID, her credit card, and her phone card. To this day, there has been no activity on either card.
Judy’s description varies from source to source. Some sources report that she was “heavy set” or “top heavy”. Others say she was 130 or 140 lbs., which is more average size for a 5’2” woman. In some pictures Judy looks to be of a larger build, but in some photos, she appears smaller. Whether these weights were a misprint or Judy was someone whose weight fluctuated regularly is unclear. It is not a very important detail but it is a discrepancy I wanted to point out.
Judy had been to North Carolina only once and had no connection to the area. She had once been to Raleigh to visit Jeffrey who was at a weight loss clinic. Jeffrey said that he loved the area and thought about moving, but the couple never returned to the state. Family also said that Judy had once traveled to Tennessee or another nearby state with a former patient but that had been years earlier.
Judy Smith is also the name of a famous "Crisis Manager." This Judy Smith was the inspiration for the hit show "Scandal" with actress Kerry Washington. This woman is not the same Judy Smith who went missing in 1997.

Suspects
Gary Michael Hilton, sometimes called the national park killer, is a suspect in Judy's disappearance. In 2008 Hilton was arrested for a murder in a national forest and was later linked to three other murders, all of which took place between 2005 and 2008. Hilton, who was in his 50s and 60s at the time, killed hikers in Florida, Georgia, and North Carolina and he is considered a suspect in many other murders in surrounding states such as Arkansas, South Carolina, and Tennessee. Hilton, who loved the outdoors, would often stalk hiking trails, camp sites, and other areas known for outdoor recreation to find victims to terrorize. His crimes were tended to be opportunistic and his motive most often was monetary. Hilton held down a series of jobs from 1997 to 2007 but did not work full time. He was also a drifter who moved from place to place. Hilton usually assaulted and robbed his victims of their wallets, atm cards, cash, and valuables. His victims were male and female, young and old. He seemed to prefer victims who were isolated and alone did not try to find a specific type of person otherwise. One thing that is interesting about Hilton as an offender is that it appears that he did not commit any violent crimes before he was 58 or 59 years old. Hilton has a very long rap sheet but most of his crimes were relatively minor such as possession of marijuana, carrying a pistol without a license, soliciting false donations for charity, carrying a police baton, and DUI. Once arrested several violent incidents that Hilton had been a part of came to light but he had never been convicted of them in the past. Most people agree someone with does not start a life of violent crime in their 60s. Many believe the Gary Michael Hilton has more victims then are currently known.
John and Irene Bryant, an eclectic couple in their 80s, were hiking in the Pisgah National Forest in 2007 when they were attacked by Hilton. Hilton killed Irene, and then kidnapped her husband in order to use their ATM cards and withdraw money before killing John as well. Irene's body was left only miles from where Judy's body was found 10 years earlier. This is one of the most convincing pieces of evidence that Hilton may have been involved in Judy's murder as well. However, it is important to note that Judy was not robbed and Hilton did not bury any of his known victims. Judy's murder also took place 10 years before any Hilton's other murders. Some blogs or more unofficial sources on the case mentioned that Hilton was believed to be in Georgia at the time of Judy's disappearance, but this isn't known for sure. If you are interested in learning more about the crimes of Gary Michael Hilton this reddit post is a really good place to start. This post did a good job of putting it all in one place so thank you u/lisagreenhouse.
Another offender who was in the Asheville area at the time of Judy's disappearance was a young man named Lewis Kyle Wilson. In the early 2000s Wilson was arrested after assaulting and robbing a sex worker he had brought home to his property. There's not a lot of information on Wilson online, but he was living in Asheville and would have been 19 at the time of Judy's disappearance. I cannot find any evidence that Wilson actually killed anyone but he does have a history of violence towards women and was in the area at the time so he is sometimes mentioned online as a possible suspect. One sex worker Wilson was known to frequent was the victim of an unsolved homicide that happened in 2006; Wilson is the prime suspect in that crime.
In 2016, only a couple of miles from Judy's burial site in the Pisgah National Forest, a lone hiker in her 60s was attacked, raped, and left tied to a tree. Thankfully, the woman was found alive and taken to the hospital. Some have wondered if this crime was connected to the Judy Smith homicide but there is no hard evidence of this and the rapist remains unknown.
Theories
Amnesia is one possible explanation for Judy’s disappearance. The family believes that Judy was injured or otherwise suffered a bout of dissociative amnesia which caused her to become confused or forget her identity. This is supported by the sightings of a confused or disoriented Judy in Philadelphia. The family believes this explains why Judy traveled to the Pisgah National Forest apparently of her own free will.
One theory is that Judy and Jeffrey had an argument that spurred an angry Judy to leave the area, whether she left from Boston or Philadelphia. After she left the area and traveled south to North Carolina, she met with foul play.
In a similar vein, some believed Judy willingly traveled to North Carolina to meet up with someone, perhaps a friend or a secret boyfriend. The ID incident at the airport was simply a cover so Judy could converse with this person who she wanted to meet. Once in North Carolina she met with foul play perhaps at the hand of the person she went to meet.
One theory Jeffrey explored was that Judy was suffering from mental illness and had a psychotic break. Being a lawyer, Jeffrey was able with some legal maneuvering to obtain all of Judy’s medical records from her adult life, including a physical she had had only months before hand. There was no indication that Judy had ever had any mental health concerns. Neither she or her doctors ever mentioned anything that would have pointed to any mental health problems, even minor ones such as anxiety. According to Jeffrey, Judy’s newest physical reported that Judy was in good mental and physical health (Lewis, 1997 and Trace Evidence Podcast).
Other sleuths have speculated that Judy traveled to North Carolina because she was questioning her sexuality. Asheville at the time was known for having an LGBT community. This theory is pushed forward by one interview on the Unsolved Mysteries segment as Judy’s friend says, “If you are looking for a mystery man, there wasn’t one.” Some have said that this implied that Judy had met a mystery woman, not a man. However, this theory is full of holes. No friends or family ever had any indication that Judy was questioning her sexuality. Judy had been married to men on three occasions and had other boyfriends as well. This explanation fails to explain why this realization would cause Judy to unexpectedly travel hundreds of miles and cease contact with her children. It also fails to explain who killed Judy.
Others have speculated that Judy was tricked into going to North Carolina. Perhaps she met someone while sightseeing who offered her a ride and that person abducted her or drove her to North Carolina for some reason.
Personally, I have always wondered if Judy was suffering from early onset dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. This would be a similar theory to the psychotic break theory; however, I believe this explains why Judy was described as both disoriented and acting normal in different sightings. I am by no means an expert, but if I understand correctly, patients with these conditions can get very confused and agitated but can also have times of acting completely lucid. I think this theory can explain why Judy forgot her license at home before flying, and can also explain her disappearance. I think it is possible Judy got on the wrong bus and ended up first at the Deptford mall and then eventually North Carolina, simply getting more and more lost each day. Of course, this hypothesis does not solve Judy’s murder, it simply gives an explanation for her travels.
A final theory that is prevalent online is the idea that the doe found in Pisgah National Forest was not Judy at all and was instead misidentified. While this is always possible and something I have entertained from time to time, Judy was matched via dental records, her arthritic knee, and her distinct engagement ring with a pear-shaped stone. If the doe was not Judy, then the mystery becomes even stranger, and now includes the identity and murder of yet another woman. While the odds of a similarly aged woman, with a bad knee, similar dental work, and a plain silver wedding band accompanied with a fancy diamond engagement ring, who was not Judy being murdered in the forest is possible, I believe that it is not very likely. Proponents of this theory point to the ME’s report that the doe had been in the forest for over a year, while Judy had been missing only five months at the time of her discovery.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Full list of sources are in part two- https://unsolved.com/gallery/judy-smith/
link to part 2 https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/kky2l2/when_a_body_is_found_600_miles_away_extensive_two/

Hunter or Huntress Chapter 79: How Does That Even Work?

So then folks ready to get that cliffhanger from last time, resolved? Well, luckily for you chapter 78 is here and ready to read. hopefully with an accurate title this time.
The editing duo have collectively shaken their heads at the results of my labor and then made it into something fit for showing off to you guys. So I say we got on with it.

ko-fi For having a pretty picture commissioned.
Sapphire
Wiki
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Chapter 79: How Does That Even Work?
Tom’s head shot up. “Kalestine! We need to get them to Kalestine!” He shouted out at the others. Heads turning to face him.
“Tom, we can’t hurt a unicorn,” Zarko replied despairingly.
“I don’t care. I asked her, she said maybe. Maybes will do right now. Jarix, we’re moving. Jackalope, on your feet we ain’t done yet.” That last part was superfluous as she had already yanked the girl away from Unkai and started sprinting towards Jarix. Zarko and Unkai also snapped to it, Tom guessed the excuse of Kalestine having said so would do for them.
“Can you walk?” Tom questioned the boy who had come clambering out. He was clearly struggling to get to his feet, even if he had stopped crying. “Come now grab on, I'll carry you,” Tom went, kneeling down in front of the kid who latched on. He grabbed his helmet, slapping it on, then picked up the basket holding it tight, and made his way to where Jarix was getting clear of the buildings.
Unkai had grabbed the boy who had been clutching the basket, even if he was breathing he was clearly not in good shape either, Zarko carrying the twins. It was a mad scramble to get everyone on board and secure.
“Jacky, rifle,” Tom went, pointing to the hole where he had left it. Jackalope quickly half-ran half-flew over to grab it as Jarix set off at a gallop to get airborne. “Everyone hang on,” Zarko instructed as she held onto the dead girl. Tom made sure the basket wasn’t going anywhere as Jarix jumped into the air, wings driving down hard.
Jackalope made it back in no time as jarix was getting up to speed, setting down with the precious rifle. Tom quickly slung it over his shoulder. It was clear she had not fared much better than him, eyes red and wet. She was smiling though and there was hope in her eyes. Tom really hoped Kalestine wasn’t gonna rob her of that.
“Zarko, you know where she is?"
“That I do,” she replied. There was a hint of reluctance in her voice. As she looked at the kids currently strewn about Jarix's back, her face seemed to go from stern to pained and she started relaying instructions.
‘Kalestine better not be a bitch today, or I’m gonna end up a heretic,’ Tom thought to himself, looking at the kids. There were six in total; four boys and two girls, those being the two youngest. The oldest of them being the one who had come crawling out. Tom guessed he was around eleven, which would make him a young man by dragonette standards.
He was sitting next to Tom, shifting between looking at his little sister in the basket and at the others around him. Clearly overwhelmed by what was happening. The twins still hadn’t let go of each other and looked terrified as all hell.
“What’s your name?” Tom asked the young man, trying to divert his attention from the girl Jackalope was clutching tight. Poor Jacky, Tom thought to himself. Based on the story of her home, this was likely all too familiar for her, after all. She knew better than anyone what these kids were going through.
“Lothal,” the answer finally came, meekly as could be. Tom turned back to him, doing his best to smile.
“I’m Tom, don’t worry I’m less scary than I look,” Tom tried in the softest voice he could manage right now. “Who are your friends?” The kid sniffed a few times before turning to the others pointing.
“That’s Hulu and Hana,” he went, pointing at the twins. “That’s Revel,” he continued pointing to the boy Unkai was tending to. “That's Vibexa.” His voice started to quiver as he pointed to Jackalope, then looking down into the basket. “Jinaro,” he finished, holding back more crying.
“Now now, come here,” Tom went, holding him tight with his right arm.
“No one else made it, did they?”
“I don’t think so no.”
“I guess mother was right then… I’ll have to do,” Lothal continued, bringing out a golden huntress crown from under his clothes and clutching it tightly in his hands. ‘Oh buddy,’ Tom thought.
“Thank you… sir?”
“I’m no sir… well I'm a man if that is what you mean. And don’t worry about it, you've had it rough enough, you don't need to thank anyone.”
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“That crazy bastard really managed to get us in today?” Sapphire couldn’t quite believe that. Perhaps the engineering guild was a lot less busy than she thought, or Tink held more sway than she had guessed.
“Yup, come on now, better hurry up,” Tink Junior replied. They had barely finished breakfast yet, but Sapphire guessed that would have to wait.
“What about the prototypes?” Dakota questioned, not yet moving from her seat.
“The rudder was easy enough, membrane leather did the trick just fine. And he managed to light himself on fire only two hours ago so the lighter is coming along well I think.”
“He lit himself on fire… and that's a good thing?” Sapphire had to ask, thinking back to Tom's warning about not getting a crazy guy.
“Well it worked. Not that it was too hard.”
“Wait, two hours ago. He hasn’t slept yet, has he?” Dakota questioned. ‘Going to a meeting with a sleeping crazy inventor, marvelous,’ Sapphire thought to herself.
“Noo, I tried to get him to go to bed. I woke up, when he burned himself on the drawing thing."
“He made those too?”
“Only the inside bit, didn’t have time for the wood. It's proof of concept after all. The lighter is a little big too.”
“How big?” Dakota questioned intently.
“About uhmmm... I mean you could hang it on your belt.”
Dakota sighed a little. “When is this meeting?”
“Oh it’s not until late in the afternoon. We were hoping you would lend us a hand.”
“That sounds fun. We got anything more important to do?” Balethon questioned, all the while stuffing his face full of fried eggs.
“We still have more things to find. That won’t matter though if we can’t afford them.” Dakota put down her utensils. “Let’s go lend a hand then.”
Having a local guide did help quite a bit with navigating. Especially since Junior seemed to know just about where everything was, even pointing out a few of the things they needed as they glided over the city. It had been a while since Sapphire last had to deal with this much traffic, she wasn’t a silvered huntress and tonselra champion for nothing though.
Balethon, on the other hand, earned some rather rude remarks from passersby when he nearly hit a family with children. Not that Dakota was much easier on him after that. “Seriously, watch where you are going. You’ll make people think we don’t teach the kids properly”
“Geez I said I was sorry, okay?”
“Down here, try not to hit anything,” Junior went in a sarcastic tone as he descended. Sapphire had been expecting to land on the street but apparently Junior thought they deserved special treatment as he set down on the roof.
Going down the stairs they found a, very much so, sleeping Tink at a workbench.
“Wake up dad, I told you to go to bed,” Junior went, kicking the chair. Tink woke with a start, looking around a tad confused.
“Oh I see, it's morning. Right, I have things to show you. Come now,” he went, leaving the room and dragging Dakota by the arm into the drawing-room. “Look, it can draw just like he said it could. Just some clay powder and that ghastly grey dye.” He sounded very excited as he presented a small grey stick to Dakota. It wasn’t even the length of her thumb and it was rather fat. Not at all like the ones Tom had brought.
“Try it out,” he continued, gesturing to a piece of paper on the table. Dakota did as instructed, drawing a line on the parchment. It did leave a nice trail on the page even if it was more of a fat smudge than the elegant lines Tom’s pencils could draw. “Not bad for a day's work, hey?”
“Definitely not. Very impressive,” Dakota had to admit, putting the thing down again. She gasped when she saw what it had done to her hand. “What in the... I need to wash my hands. Do you have water?
“Oh, sure, follow me,” Junior went as the two left to solve the problem.
“Right… whoops. I can see why you would want to put some wood around it. Still haven't worked out how to do that though.”
“You also need to sharpen it,” Sapphire interjected. She had tried Tom’s pencils before, which was clearly important for good results.
“Oh, of course. I’ll get the grindstones.”
“Just use a knife, it’s easier.”
“Oh… well okay then.”
“What about making it go away again. The rudder?”
“Oh, I just used some strips of membrane leather glued together into a little block, nice and cheap. Here,” he tossed Sapphire the little thing. It looked a lot more like what she had been expecting.
“Is that the lighter?” Balethon asked, looking at what Sapphire would best describe as a nice lantern that had been ripped apart poorly.
“Oh yes, I didn't have time to make that tiny thing so I just made the little spark thing and put it on a lantern. Look.” True to his word, he flicked the wheel on the side and the thing lit up with a burst of sparks, burning with a nice clean flame. “Alternatively, we could just sell these as self-lighting lanterns.”
“Dakota is gonna like this,” Sapphire concluded. “You did all this since yesterday?”
“Sure, the Dencil was the most difficult. I need to make a proper mold for that. It didn’t get hot enough either. It likes to crumble so I made a few to show off.”
“Okay then. What was it you wanted us for then?”
“Oh, I need some help with this thing,” he went, this time grabbing Sapphire by the arm to drag her along. She entertained him for the time being; he had done one hell of a job for one night after all. He went to the big room where they had found him sleeping. “I just needed to know about those naggnet things, so I started putting this together.”
“Uh uh, not happening,” Sapphire protested as she looked at his very rushed-looking sketches, which to her dismay had a jar of blitz gel on them. With what she assumed were wires sticking out of it.
“Why not?! I mean I still haven't figured out how to make the thin copper strands it talked about in the instructions, but it was very clear that you needed lightning. What better way to get it than blitz gel?”
“That stuff explodes… regularly,” Sapphire tried in the voice usually reserved for when Jackalope had a bad idea. It was as effective as always.
“I ain’t gonna hit it with a hammer or anything!” Tink protested, much to Sapphire's dismay.
“Have you ever worked with electricity?” She asked very pointedly.
“No…”
“Then let me teach you a few lessons I have learned. One, that stuff can and will blow up even when you think you know what you are doing. Two, it’s fucking loud when it does so and it breaks things. Three, the man who designed this stuff originally also has this stuff blow up on him… regularly. So you stand no chance.”
Tink looked somewhere between offended and a kid who had his toy taken away. “Well then what?” he replied with an exasperated shrug.
“We do as the instructions say of course?”
“But this is what the instructions said...”
‘Fuck!’ Sapphire really should have read those before betting Tom hadn't been this reckless.
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Tom and Jackalope had sat down next to each other with their backs to the other kids so they didn’t have to look at their two dead sisters. Lothal was doing his best along with Zarko and Unkai to keep them distracted, but it was clear they still wanted to know what was going on.
“How many do you think they killed?”
“None, they're recruiting,” Jackalope replied darkly, staring back towards the keep as it got smaller in the distance. Tom leaned in to whisper into her ear, not wanting the kids to hear.
“Where do you think they're going next?”
“Knowing our luck they made it past us on the way here without us spotting them.”
“You don’t think that…
“I don't know, okay!” She replied angrily, head snapping to look at him. Of course she didn’t, how could she. She seemed to regret it though, turning to look down at the girl she was still clutching. “I was five… I guess she wins then.”
“Wins what?” Tom tried as delicately as he could.
“Most unlucky little girl.” Tom just put his head on her shoulder.
“If she will be half the badass as you are it can’t be all bad.”
“She will be even more badass. She will have unicorn’s blood.”
‘God I hope so,’ Tom thought to himself.
It was not much of a trip, Jarix was trying to go as fast as possible while being restrained by Zarko. They couldn’t have anyone falling off, and chances were good Jarix's job was far from done today. They had made the clearing in a matter of minutes, circling down to land by the edge of the waterhole.
‘Can you hear me?’ Tom tried to think as they were descending.
“Yes,” came the weary response. “Why have you brought the kids?” Jackalope seemed to react to that as well, so he guessed this was on the broad channel. He would rather spare the kids for now though. They didn’t need to have their faces rubbed in the fact they were likely all orphans now.
‘They’re all that's left.’ There was a fair bit of silence following that, coinciding with Jarix touching down and trotting over to the small shelter they had made for Kalestine.
“I take it you came here for blood, then?”
‘Please. We tried, we can’t help them.’ Tom and Jacky carried down the two girls, while the others handled the rest of the kids, trying to keep them away. Lothal was doing a remarkably good job of keeping calm, even if the same could not be said for the rest of them. The shock factor was clearly still in effect for them though.
Tom and Jackalope had sat down with Kalestine placing the two dead kids before her.
“You know the punishment for hurting a unicorn, you will be barred from heaven for doing that.” Jackalope didn’t seem to flinch at that, so Tom guessed that was common knowledge.
“Right away or at some point?” He had to ask. He reasoned that chances were pretty good he was going to hell anyway if he died. He could hardly be more of a heretic anyway around these parts.
“When you die, I think.”
“Good enough for me,” Tom replied, drawing his knife. Jackalope grabbed him by the hand, yanking him into an embrace. Nuzzling him closely and even giving him a boop, which he guessed was her way of trying a kiss. He returned the gesture as best he could. Then she released him, looking a bit coy.
“Just in case,” She went, looking down.
“Hey, I don’t think this will kill me. Besides, I don't even follow your gods,” Tom replied, turning back to Kalestine. “How much and where from?”
“I didn’t say I would let you,” Kalestine responded; Tom’s grip on the knife tightened. “I will let you try, for a price.”
“Name it,” Tom responded. ‘Bartering with the lives of a fucking baby.’ He tried not to think about how much that made him hate her right now.
“Find and kill the one who broke my horn,” Kalestine replied, switching into a vicious tone. “And make them suffer for it.”
“With pleasure,” Jackalope responded coldly. Tom had to admit he didn’t have a problem with that either. He was guessing that would fall under hunting down child murderers.
“Deal. Now, where and how much?”
“Do try and put it where it can’t be seen. I’m looking like a whipped draft horse already.” Tom had to admit, the glamour of when he had first seen her had sort of vanished. Magic life horse though, so he was sure that would return eventually. “You won’t need much, a few drops will do.”
That wasn’t too hard to manage, as he moved to her side. “Thank you,” he went as he nicked her by her cloven hoof. He had expected a horse’s hoof, but what the hell, it was hardly the strangest thing about her.
The small nick didn't bleed much but it did the trick as he scooped up some of the strange silvery liquid in the fuller of his knife. Jackalope brought the basket over, setting it down next to Tom and held the little girl's mouth open.
“When you run out of science, use magic I guess,” Tom went, tilting the knife to let the blood run into the little girl's mouth.
The effect was immediate as the liquid seemed to burn its way through the tongue and sides of the little girl's mouth, bright white light beaming out from where Tom was expecting a wound to be. There was just a quick flash then it was gone, with no evidence remaining.
He flinched back at the sight, it was a violent reaction. Jackalope was clearly not expecting that either, turning away from the flash of light for a split second. Kalestine let out a pained sound as the blood hit. Tom guessed she was paying for this somehow then. In fact, she appeared to be paying quite a lot.
Then the little girl convulsed, almost like she had been hit with an electric shock, eyes, and mouth shooting open, with the same blinding white light pouring from them. It looked more like something out of a horror film as the scream came, an agonizing desperate scream of a baby in great pain. She thrashed around, the light beaming from her. Tom felt he needed to do something, but Jackalope hit him in the chest with enough force to drive out his breath when he leaned forward.
“Don't touch her.”
The light slowly began to fade from blinding to bright to none as eventually the clear green of the kid’s eyes could be seen. The scream turning to the sweetest sound Tom could hope for. Crying.
__________________________________________________________________________________
The baby lives! Now be honest how many of you thought I was gonna kill the little baby? Ahh don't worry there is still a kid left and who knows baby might be a Hodor now. And Tink has been very productive it would seem, hopefully, his rushing nature doesn't lead to any horrible situations, we have enough of those at the moment.
As always let me know what you thought good and bad down below and may you all have an awesome day.

ko-fi For having a pretty picture commissioned.
Sapphire
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The Last Ride of Roy Wilson (Part 2)

As the distorted colossus of animal flesh burned by the barn, Cooper emerged from the ranch, his Winchester still in hand.

“Christ’s sake, the hell was that thing?” He demanded. His eyes were bright in the firelight, which chased away the darkness that enveloped us as night fell. Starkmann only continued to stare at the dead creature, as if he expected it to rise up again and keep on fighting. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it had.

“Hell if I know,” I replied. Even I could hear the uneasy tremble in my voice. “Dead animals stitched together… Thought they were dead, anyway.”
“Well they look fuckin’ dead now,” Cooper said before spitting in the dirt. He glanced over at Starkmann who rolled a cigarette with a shaking hand and wiped the sweat off his brow. For a moment, all of us were silent and we watched that thing burn until we couldn’t recognize what parts had belonged to what animals anymore. Cooper shook his head again and took a step back towards the ranch. I could see a rush in his gait as if he aimed to get the hell away from that thing as soon as possible. I could hardly blame him.

“Roy, Doc. c’mon. Let’s get us some goddamn answers.” He growled. My eyes lingered on the burning carcass of the thing in the barn before I followed Cooper. Starkmann didn’t move at all. The man seemed lost in his own little world. I let him be.
“Please tell me there ain’t more of those fucking things in the house,” I said under my breath.
“No, but there’s something else.” He’d replied as he stepped through the door.

The fire from outside lit up the small kitchen and cast an orange glow that allowed us to see clearly enough. The Marshal led me up the stairs and into a bedroom, where I spotted the shape of a woman curled into a ball, almost hiding underneath one of the nearby beds. Cooper stayed outside the door, his gun still in hand as if he was expecting trouble. Me on the other hand? I knew otherwise.
“Christ, is that Martha Roberts?” I asked. I glanced at Cooper but I couldn’t read his face.
“You tell me, son.” He replied.

Slowly, I approached the woman under the bed. Even in the long, flickering shadows cast from the fire outside, I recognized her although only barely. She was rail-thin, pale, and sickly. She barely resembled the smiling, rosy-cheeked woman I’d met ten years back. Her eyes were sunken in, her hair looked stringy and thin. But I still remembered her.
“Martha?” I asked. She didn’t move.
“Martha, it’s me, Roy. Roy Wilson. You remember me?”
Still no reply. Not even a shift of her head, to let me know she’d heard me.

“I’d just found her like that before I heard the shooting.” Cooper said, “Didn’t have much time to talk to her… Didn’t get anything anyway. I presume you two know each other.”
“Yeah. She’s Dicks wife.” I replied. I gently reached out to try and coax her upwards. She didn’t put up any resistance and I managed to get her into a sitting position. Her breathing was slow and steady but her eyes seemed vacant. The stillness in her reminded me too much of Egor Starkmann. Cooper came up behind me and crouched down at my side. He put on that boyish smile of his and tried to speak to her.
“Are you alright, ma’am? You hurt?”
No response. Martha’s eyes didn’t so much as move to acknowledge him. Her head just slumped to the side, like a corpse. Her eyes were vacant and unfocused. If she weren’t still suckin’ air I might have thought she really was dead.

“Christ… Same as the folks on the train…” He muttered under his breath before standing up.
“Which means Jonesy was here.” I added, “We should poke around. Maybe we’ll figure out where they’re headed.”

I could tell that Cooper was thinking the same thing.
“Jones..." Martha whispered in a hoarse, weak voice. Both of our eyes darted to her.
"Yeah, that's right. Daniel Jones. You see him come through here?” Cooper asked eagerly. Her eyes shifted to me. It took a moment, but I saw her head begin to nod. The movement was slow but deliberate.
“Jonsey…” She repeated. “And… Her…”
“Her?” Cooper asked, his brow furrowed. “Who the hell is she talking about, Roy?”
“Beats me… Who do you mean by ‘Her’, Martha?”

The woman seemed to curl up a little bit, as if she was expecting to be struck. She shook her head, a violent jerking motion from side to side before she collapsed. Cooper got down to help her up again.
“Who was with Jonsey, Martha?” I asked, “I need to know. Who was with him?”
Her eyes burned into mine, wide and brimming with new tears.
“Her…” Martha croaked, “Her… Her… Her…”
“Who?” Cooper asked, trying not to raise his voice. He glanced from me, back to Martha as she continued to mutter that same word over and over again.

Her body went limp in Cooper's arms, her words slurred as she twitched and convulsed. Her eyes seemed wild and stared blankly up at the ceiling.
“Shit, she’s not right…” Cooper cried, “DOC!”
He gently moved Martha into my arms before running for the window to call Starkmann. The woman just continued to twitch and babble although, for just a second, her eyes met mine as she spoke her last word.

“Shaal…” She said it so clearly, and that word hit me like a cold exhale. Then… Nothing. Her body went limp. She was gone. I could hear Starkmann's boots thudding against the floor out in the hall. When he burst into the room, I laid Martha down so he could try and save her. I suspect I already knew that she was too far gone to save though.

That last word hung in my mind, unwilling to leave.
‘Shaal.’
Something about it sent a chill through me. I rubbed my temples and recalled the drawings in Egors room, the strange horizons with the great cross left blank in the sky. Cooper put an arm around me and led me out of the room as Starkmann did his vain work.

“Marshal, I don’t suppose you’d recognize the name Shaal, would you?”
“Shaal?” He repeated, “No. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Martha said it when you went to call Starkmann… Right before she stopped breathing.”
“Sounds like a name. Someone else in Jones’ crew? Could even be our mysterious lady friend.”
“I ain’t never heard of anyone named Shaal.” I said.
“Well, you have now. I’ll send a line to some associates of mine back in San Antonio. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll recognize the name.” Cooper said. I didn’t feel so sure of that.

Starkmann stepped out of the bedroom, his face grim. His silence told us all we needed to know and for a moment, the three of us shared that silence.“We’ll start by searching the rooms, and we’ll bury her before we go.” Cooper finally said. There was exhaustion in his voice. “Roy, check the barn. Starkmann, check downstairs. We’ll check the cellar together.”
Starkmann just gave a nod, before turning to head back downstairs. I hesitated for just a moment before making my way down to the barn.

The stink from that rotten beast hadn’t gone away quite yet. If anything, burning it had only made it stink worse. What was left was no more than a pile of charred flesh, that split and curled back, making the crude stitches that held it together popping. I kept my distance as I returned to the barn, my iron in my hand just in case there was anything else waiting for me in there.

The barn itself looked like nothin’ special. Aside from the mess of dried blood and buzzing flies, I might not have thought too much of it at a glance. As I pressed on inside, the wooden floor creaked with every footstep. Looking up, I saw the crucified dog that Starkmann had mentioned. My stomach lurched a bit. It didn’t seem right to see a kindly animal strung up like that. The cross wasn’t like a normal cross, though. No, this one was in the shape of a X. Like the one St. Andrew died on. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a small desk sitting in one corner of the barn, along with a few papers strewn about atop it. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

The light from the fire outside was enough for me to try to read those papers, but there wasn’t much on them I could clearly make out. Diagrams of animals, like what a butcher might use, mixed with a looping, effeminate script. The fragments that I read didn’t make sense to me and I didn’t dwell on them long. I felt something metallic bump against my boot and looked down to see what it was.

It was a metal ring, looped through a small cellar doorway on the floor. I hesitated for a moment, before giving it a good couple of stomps with my heel. If there were anything down there, some noise might have woken it. I didn’t hear anything. I reached down and opened the cellar door. There was a set of wooden stairs leading into what looked like a dirt hole, hastily dug out beneath the barn. No doubt it had been used in the past to store ill-gotten goods… and yet judging by the pile of leavings and the dirty bedding in one corner, there’d been a man down there not all that long ago.

I spotted the glimmer of something shiny in amongst the bedding and reached down to pick it up. It looked to be a gold rosary, with a rather ornate design. I backed out of the little hole under the barn to get a better look at it in the firelight. It might’ve been loot from the train robbery… Or an heirloom belonging to the fella who’d been down in that little hole. I clutched it tight and made my way back to the house, hoping that Cooper might know a thing or two about it.

Cooper was downstairs with Starkmann when I got back into the house. They’d lit up a lamp and were at the kitchen table, fussing over Cooper's map, and some charred piece of paper.
“You two find anything?” I asked.
“In the fireplace.” Cooper replied, “Map of some sort from the looks of it. Starkmanns trying to figure out what it shows. There wasn’t anything to find upstairs and the cellar’s just got stores and rats. You find anything in the barn?”
“Few things, actually,” I said and held up the rosary. Starkmann glanced at it from the corner of his eye before shooting upright, a funny look in his eye.

“You found that in the barn?” He asked. He outstretched a hand for it, and I tossed it to him.
“Beneath the barn. There was a little dirt cellar. Looked to me like someone was being kept down there, up until recently.”
Cooper's brow furrowed.
“Jesus…”
“You find anything else?” Starkmann asked, “Clothes? A letter? Anything?”
“Not in the hole I didn’t. There were some awful queer papers on the butchery of animals… Didn’t look like much use, though.” I paused and studied the way that Starkmann clutched the rosary tight.

“What’s it to you?” I asked.
“I know this rosary.” Starkmann said, “I know the man who this belongs to. You said you found it in the barn, you mean that?”
“Why the hell would I lie about it?”
“YOU SWEAR YOU FOUND THIS IN THE BARN!” Starkmann roared. Cooper raised an arm between us and I caught myself shrinking back a step.
“Now just wait a minute, Doc. Calm down. Who did that rosary come from.”

“Bishop John Strickland. He’s been a close friend of the Starkmann family for many years. He and my father grew up together, they were like brothers. My father gave him this rosary. A gift, for his enthronement. I’d know it anywhere.” He paused, taking a moment to compose himself. I could see his hands trembling as he swore and kicked at the wall. “We had a mutual friend in San Antonio, Egor and I had gotten word from Strickland that his health had taken a turn for the worst. He’d left to say his goodbyes before it was too late. The only reason I was not on that train with him, was the health of one of my own patients.”

Cooper and I traded a glance.
“I don’t know about you, but that seems a strange coincidence that the man who was likely in that cellar was a close friend of a man from that train robbery…” I said quietly.
“A strange coincidence indeed…” Cooper agreed, “I’d reckon that Egor knew where to find Bishop Strickland, right?”
“Of course he knew.” Starkmann replied harshly, “Hell, he might’ve been one of the few people who did know… I think there’s no need to pretend we all haven’t come to the very same conclusion. Our train robbery was no simple robbery. They were after Father Strickland, or at the very least someone who knew where they might find him.”

“Let’s just take it back a step.” Cooper said, “Before we start jumping to conclusions here, let’s look at the facts. Now, we’re sure that it was Daniel Jones behind that robbery and we’re sure that not only was he here, but he had Pastor Strickland in his custody. We’re all clear on that, right?”
“Crystal,” Starkmann said, through a frustrated exhale.
“Right. So, before we lose our heads let’s start asking where we’re headed for next. The obvious destination is wherever they marked on that map, correct?”

“Correct…” I could see some of the tension draining from Starkmanns shoulders, and I approached the map on the table. I leaned over it and studied the crudely scribbled landmarks. I could see a river nearby and checked the map Cooper had laid out for anything that matched. Starkmann had probably already seen the same thing I’d seen… But as I followed the bends of the rivers, I wondered if perhaps he’d only looked at the rivers in Texas...
“So, we find out where they’re headed, we find the Bishop and they all hang in San Antonio.”
“Or we leave ‘em in the dirt for the vultures.” I added, “The river on the map they burned, that branches off the Rio Grande, into Mexico.”
“The hell it does…” Cooper said as he leaned over my shoulder. He scanned the map and saw that I was right on the money. “Well shit…”

“They’re headed south of the border if they ain’t there already,” I said. “Last I checked, your authority ends at the border, Marshal.”
“More or less,” Cooper said, looking none too happy about it. “I’d need to send word to Virginia, maybe then we might get a warrant to pursue…”
“Which would take how long?” Starkmann demanded.
“Too damn long.” Cooper replied, “But that’s the only avenue we’ve got.”
“The only one you’ve got.” Starkmann corrected, “Not me. I have a friend in danger and a brother left scarred by these men, Marshal! I’ll not sit idly by and wait for approval before I pursue. Chances are the Bishop will be long dead or worse by the time you get word back from Virginia!”

“Doc, if you’re aiming to charge across the border by yourself, guns blazing, you’ve got another thing coming,” Cooper warned. “Now I admire your spirit. Truly I do. But if Jones and his men don’t kill you, you’ll answer to the law in Mexico and might end up dead anyway.”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll have no regrets,” Starkmann said. He glanced at me as if expecting me to chime in. I hardly can say I knew the man and I sure as hell didn’t know him well enough to die for him… But all the same, I caught myself sighing.

“The Doc is right, Cooper. If we wait on this, we’ll lose them and we’ll probably lose the Bishop.”
“And here I thought you didn’t want to go chasing after Jones.” Cooper said, “Why the change of heart?”
“Well, when I said that there weren’t no hostages involved. I ain’t exactly a saint but I don’t think I’d sleep too well if I left a man of the cloth to his fate… And given what we’ve seen here already, I’d prefer not to think on just what that fate may be.” I looked over at Starkmann, who for the first time since I’d met him looked genuinely happy to hear my voice.

“So, if you’re crossing the border then I am too. Now I understand that you’ve got rules you need to follow so we’ll go with or without you Marshal. I’ll think no less of you if you stay behind.”
Cooper looked between the two of us, his usual boyish smile absent. He was silent for a moment and leaned on the table as he thought things over. He glanced up at the window, where the fire that consumed the carcass of whatever we’d killed still burned bright.

“Goddamn you, fine... Least I can do is keep you two assholes from getting killed. Let's talk about Mexico when we get back to town. I need a fucking drink.”
On that last part, all three of us were agreed.

We left the ranch to burn after we’d buried Martha Roberts. Starkmann, Cooper, and I will catch a train at dawn for Del Rio. Then we will find our way across the border. There, we’ll travel to the point on that map, and see what awaits us.

The whisky at the saloon in Chestnut Springs has not removed my memories of that thing in the barn… I believe I shall see it again in my dreams, perhaps for the rest of my life. That much, I could tolerate. And yet the thing that keeps me awake is the fear that what we killed at Stone Acres, whatever it was, was not the only one of its kind.

June 15th, 1887
We crossed the border two days ago and found ourselves in the wilderness of Coahuila. The journey was slow, almost grueling at times. We followed the river slowly getting closer to the spot marked on the map. The ride itself had been unremarkable, but between the three of us, we hardly spoke. I could see it in the eyes of Starkmann and Cooper. They hadn’t been sleeping any better than I had. Even during the nights, I could hear them tossing and turning. I didn’t need to ask why.

We still saw it when we tried to sleep. The limbs of that abomination, horse and cattle legs twisted until they were spider-like. The swollen, lumbering carcass of dead flesh that seemed to rip itself apart with its very bulk... I still see the dead eyes of the horse head, mounted clumsily over the skull of that bull… I still smell the stink of it. I knew they shared the same fear as I did long before we made it to the town. It just wasn’t until after we got there that we actually had a name for it…

We saw the fog first, so thick and heavy you could barely see the horse in front of you.
“Maybe we should stop for a bit.” I heard Cooper call, “Can’t see shit in this and if we lose one of the horses…”
“Terrains level enough for now.” Starkmann replied, “Don’t see any reason not to keep going.”
I didn’t weigh in. Unlike them, I saw the faded lights just ahead of us and kept my horse moving in that direction.
“Roy?” I heard Cooper call, followed by silence. I knew he’d seen what I’d seen and I suspected he knew what it must’ve meant too. Whatever we were looking for out there, we’d just found it.

“The hell is this?” Cooper asked, “A town?"
“Maybe at one point,” I said. I glanced at an old house that looked to be in the midst of collapsing. “Not anymore.”
I stopped my horse and glanced behind me to make sure Starkmann and Cooper were still close behind. They were. I dropped off, reaching for my iron and moving deeper into the fog.

“The hell are you doing?” Cooper demanded.
“Shh. We’ll be quieter on foot.” I replied. In the fog behind me, I saw Cooper starting to dismount his horse. Thankfully the man had seen my point. I figured Starkmann was likely right behind him.
I kept going. There was no sound, no birds. Nothing at all. The silence was deafening.

“The hell happened here?” I heard Starkmann murmur, “Place feels like a goddamn graveyard…”
“Could be Jonsey and his friends have already moved on.” Cooper said, “God damn… If we’ve missed them…”

“Hello?”

A voice called out through the fog in front of us, and the three of us froze. Cooper went for his six-gun and aimed it into the blank white ahead. It took me a few seconds to see what he saw. The shape of a man coming closer through the fog. The shape stopped, dead in its tracks.
“Hector? That you?”
“Guess I spoke too soon…” Cooper murmured and thought for a moment before calling out.
“It’s Hector!”
Both Starkmann and I glanced at him, no doubt wondering what the hell he was thinking when the voice replied.
“The hell are you doing out in the mist, Hector? C’mon back!”
Evidently, we were dealing with some sort of moron.

With his gun still drawn, Cooper walked towards the stranger in the mist as if there wasn’t a problem in the world. The poor dumb fool probably couldn’t get a clear look at his face in the fog and by the time he did, he didn’t even get to let off a scream before Cooper had knocked him into the dirt. Starkmann and I flanked him, as Cooper dragged our new, dumb friend through the dirt and slammed him up against the ruins of a building. Our new friend was just a boy, no older than 16 with bright red hair and eyes wide like a gutted deer. Cooper kept a hand over his mouth and put the barrel of his gun up against the bottom of his jaw.

“You scream and I’ll blow your head clean off, boy.” He warned. “Do I make myself explicitly clear?”
The boy tried to nod and Cooper slammed him against the wall.
“I said am I clear!”
This time, the boy made a little more effort and Cooper took his hand away.
“Jones. Where is he?” He growled.
“C-Church… Him and Kennard…” The boy stammered.
“Kennard?” Cooper asked, “That the woman’s name?”
“Y-yeah. Kennard! Primrose Kennard! Jonsey brought her down from somewhere. Mississippi, Missouri? I-I don’t remember!”
Cooper studied the boy for a moment, before forcefully turning him around.

“Roy, get some rope from my horse and help me truss up this little shit.”
I got up to head back to the horses when I heard another voice from the fog, from the direction we’d come from.
“Henry? You there?”
“HECTO-” The boy tried to scream but Cooper covered his mouth again.

“Get rid of that one. Quiet.” He whispered to me. I gave a half nod before pulling my hunting knife from my belt. I could see the shape of a man approaching our horses. I was sure he had a gun drawn, so I ducked behind one of the old houses, and circled around it.

“Henry?” Hector called again, just as I’d rounded the house and came out right behind him. If he heard me coming, he didn’t have time to stop me before I was behind him, with my knife in his throat. The moment happened quickly. One minute, I was behind him and he was alive, the next he was bleeding out in my arms, no different than the animals I’d hunted. I’d killed a man before… But it’d been so long that I couldn’t help but pause as I ended that stranger's life. It felt… Odd. Wrong. But the deed was done. I let the body drop. Hector hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, choking on his own blood as he did. I tried not to dwell on that. I backed up towards Cooper's horse and grabbed the rope.

The boy, Henry I suppose his name was, was dead still by the time I returned to him and Cooper. No doubt he’d seen me waste his friend.
“You count yourself lucky I’m a softie, kid,” Cooper said as he bound his wrists. “Now if you’ll be so obliged, where’s the Church?”
“J-just up the road. You can’t miss it, mister!” The boy stammered, “Please… I don’t wanna die…”

Cooper just cracked a smile.
“Well ain’t really got room for prisoners. But hell if I’m just gonna kill some kid whose balls ain’t even dropped yet…” With that, he jammed a rag into Henry's mouth and left him on the ground. Starkmann regarded him quietly before heading up the road, through the fog, and towards the Church.

We heard the voices as we got closer, a man's distant screams. I could see Starkmann picking up his pace, and knew he recognized that voice. Through the fog, I could see the church. It was old, its paint was chipped and worn. It had seen better days but was still intact.

Cooper raced past me and put a firm hand on Starkmann’s shoulder as he neared the door, pulling him back. He glanced back at the Marshal with rage in his eyes, although relented quickly.
“Look first. Shoot second.” Cooper whispered. He gestured to the door and we quietly drew nearer. The doors were open, just enough for us to see inside and as we got closer I heard a woman's voice speaking.

“Be honored, your Excellency… Very few are given the chance to serve the True Gods. Your life is in servitude to a higher purpose. That, I promise you…”

The Church was well lit with oil lamps along the walls. I peered through the broken door and spotted a man, dressed in the dirty robes of a bishop on his knees before the altar. No doubt, this was Strickland. Just a few feet away from him I spotted a figure I recognized as old Jonsey. He’d grown huskier in the years since I’d last seen him but I knew his face all too well.

Yet the star of the show was the woman… Primrose Kennard, she’d been called. I hadn’t quite known what to expect, but she both lived up to and defied my expectations. She was tall, and lovely with pitch-black hair that fell to her shoulders. She had a slight baby's face, yet that only seemed to add to her loveliness. She wore no guns, and yet something about her still sent a cold chill through me. In one hand, she carried a bone knife and held it to the Bishop's throat.

“Don’t be afraid…” She crooned, cradling his face like a lover. “I won’t make you face It again…” Her thumbs ran gently over his cheeks, she smiled sweetly at him as she bent down to kiss his forehead. “No… You’re not meant for Shaal, Bishop… You’re here to show me the way…”
I saw the knife dip lower, moving towards the Bishop's throat and I knew that whatever she’d been building up to, she was about to do it.

“You drop that knife, Woman!” I heard Starkmann yell. He pushed past us and threw open the door, aiming his gun right at that woman's heart. Kennard pulled back, eyes wide in surprise at first, before her lips curled into a smile.
“Well, well… We have visitors!” She crooned.

Besides Starkmann, Cooper and I entered the Church as well. His gun was trained on Jones, as was mine. Jones stood protectively before Starkmann, and I felt his eyes on me.
“Roy Wilson…” He said, his voice lower and gruffer than before, “Well I’ll be… Is that you?”
“Been too long Jonsey.” I replied coldly, “I thought you hung ten years back.”
“Almost.” He replied, “No thanks to you. You a Marshal now?”
“No, but I’ll put you in the ground all the same.”
Jonesy’s crooked smile widened, exposing yellowed teeth.
“Good luck to you…” He glanced back at Kennard, who still clutched her knife tightly, before going for his guns.

I couldn’t tell you who shot first, myself, Cooper, or Starkmann. What I know for sure is that we filled that sonofabitch with enough lead to kill him five times over, and he didn’t so much as fucking flinch. Jonsey drew his iron as if we hadn’t even shot at us. His first three shots struck the walls. I scrambled for cover behind a pew. From the corner of my eye, I saw Cooper doing the same on the opposite side of the chapel. Jonsey kept a gun aimed at each of us, although when he saw Starkmann try to make a run from the door to the altar, he forgot about us. He fired twice before Starkmann dove low and Cooper took advantage of his lapse in judgment to take a shot at him. I saw his muzzle flash and I saw part of Jonsey’s skull shatter. I swear I saw bits of his brain dribbling down the side of his head but that bastard still stood tall, shooting back like he had all day and laughing quietly all the while.

Behind him, I watched as Kennard seized the Bishop by the hair. None of us could’ve saved Bishop Strickland. Not even if we’d wanted to. Kennard drew the knife across his throat, damn near taking his head off. Then, with the bloodied knife still in hand, she turned towards the altar, almost oblivious to the carnage behind her.
“Ancient Guardian, I beg of thee… With sacred blood, on the sacred ground, I invoke thee… Grant me an audience in exchange for this holy life…”
She drove the knife into the wooden altar, and I felt the ground itself quake.

The world around us seemed to dim into a blackness darker than even the nighttime. Jonsey paused, looking back with what was left of his skull at Kennard who stood triumphantly before the altar. I saw my shot, and I took it. I’d never killed a woman before, much less shot one in the back but given the circumstances, I wouldn’t have lost any sleep.

I know my aim was true. The bullet should’ve hit her dead on. Instead, I felt a pain in my shoulder, like someone had just slugged me hard. For the first couple of seconds, it hardly registered as painful… But then it started to burn. I saw a blood-red stain blooming on my shoulder. The gun fell from my hand and looking at Kennard, I saw her smiling at me and I knew that somehow, she’d done this to me. I collapsed back down behind the pew as a great shadow grew from the darkness before her.

I clutched at my new wound, trying as best I could to stop the bleeding. Jonsey still stood in the aisle of the chapel, keeping close to Kennard and trading bullets with Cooper. For a moment, I was sure that he’d been the one who’d shot me, but I was sure he hadn’t so much as looked my way when I’d shot at Kennard. From the corner of my eye, I saw Starkmann pop out from cover to take a few more shots at Jonesy. I can’t say why he bothered, the bastard remained as unflinching as ever. Even with half his skull blown away he hardly seemed to give a damn. He looked back towards Kennard, and watched as the darkness before her grew larger. I saw a shape inside of it, something tall and looming. Its limbs seemed thin, like bones but I could’ve sworn they had a texture like wood. I saw what looked to be a bare human skull looking down at her, and yet a pair of beady eyes lurked deep within their sockets. The entity that had answered Kennard's summons spoke in a deep, rumbling voice although I couldn’t make out the words over the gunfire.

I saw Starkmann crawling behind the same pew Cooper was behind, having given up his mission to save the Bishop. Blood dripped from a fresh gash in his temple where he’d been grazed.
“Not a bad effort, but y’all won’t be killing me today…” I heard Jonsey say, his voice thick and wet. “Miss Kennard’s made some… Modifications… That’s her specialty, see?”
I could hear his heavy footsteps drawing nearer to us.
“Maybe when I’m done with you boys, she might find somethin’ she can salvage… Eyes, guts, bones… I suppose I could use a new skull…” He chuckled deeply.

From behind his pew, Cooper glanced over at me and I saw real hopelessness in his eyes. We were cooked and we all knew it. Jonsey was just coming to finish the job. I spotted my gun on the floor near me and grabbed at it. I knew it was almost surely suicide, but I had one idea that just might work.

I dove out from behind the pew and unloaded my pistol into Jonsey’s legs. I aimed for the knee, and I saw the blood spatter against the pews. Just as I’d hoped, the bastard’s newly busted legs couldn’t support him. I saw the panic in his one good eye before he went down. He braced himself against the pews to try and avoid collapsing outright, and that gave us the window I needed.

With my last shot, I took aim at one of the oil lamps on the walls. Fire had killed the thing at the ranch, maybe it might kill Jonesy too. The least it could do was cover our escape. Flames erupted from the broken lamp, quickly catching on the old pews. That Church was gonna be an inferno in a few minutes, and I didn’t want to stick around to see for sure.

“Move!” I yelled, before bolting towards the Church door. Cooper and Starkmann both took the hint. They followed me to the door. Starkmann paused for only a moment to take a parting shot at Jonsey’s head. But I didn’t get to see if it made any difference. Clutching my bleeding shoulder, I sprinted through the fog, almost falling once or twice. I didn’t stop until I saw the horses.

“C’mon! Move your asses!” I yelled. Looking back again, I saw Cooper had stopped to grab that goddamn boy we’d left trussed up. If I’d had time, I would’ve cursed him out for it. With Starkmanns help, I was able to get up on my horse. Through the fog, I could see the Church burning, and yet I had a sense that our troubles were far from over.

We hadn’t won. We just hadn’t died.

How to Survive Camping - I'm glad I'm not the only one with bad ideas

I run a private campground. It’s not an easy job and there’s a lot I have to deal with. Fortunately, I have all of you to offer up advice in the comments! Lots. Of. Advice. (having demon babies with Beau is still off the table, for the record) I suppose I ignore a lot of it in favor of my own ideas, which hasn't always turned out great, but this time I’m taking your advice on how to deal with the children. Or rather, it just so happens that your advice and my idea on how to handle the situation coincide.
Anyway, if you’re new here, you should really start at the beginning, and if you’re totally lost, this might help.
“Oh you just need to get the wagon away from them!”
To be fair, it was what I was thinking as well, but I’m tired of being the one with the bad ideas all the time so I’m going to share the blame.
The simplicity of the plan appealed to me. I already had all the supplies I needed. There was that dog tie-out that I’d used to tether the former sheriff a while back. It was made of wire and was plenty long enough to string between two trees. I’d park the campground pickup truck nearby with the engine running and when the children were catapulted out of the wagon, I’d grab it, toss it in the back, and then drive off and take it a couple towns over and dump in a river or something, I dunno. Whatever got it off the land.
Finding the dancers was similarly simple. As I said last post, once the campground was closed they could be found partying in one of the many clearings in the deep woods almost every night. I think they enjoy having all the space to themselves. After sunset, I hopped in the truck and went searching for them. I took my weapons, of course. It never hurts to have a backup plan. I didn’t plan on directly confronting the children, though. I’m not sure what to do about them, after all. I just needed to restore the campground back to the way it was, before the dancers really got upset with me and did something awful.
Of the two groups, I have to say I’m more frightened of the dancers. The children are petulant and spiteful. The dancers are… calculatingly cruel.
I found them in the biggest clearing in the deep woods. It’s also the clearing used by the camp that hosts the biggest parties at one of our events. May the two groups never join forces.
The clearing sits in a depression, where the land dips slightly down from the road. There are a couple entrances, just a few yards of stacked gravel to level the approach into the camp. I didn’t have enough tripwire to go across all of them and I briefly wondered if I needed to go back and get some rope out of the garage. Then I thought about it. If I were a demon-child, determined to wreck someone’s day out of spiteful glee, how would I go about it?
The answer was obvious after that. The clearing was also situated near a hill leading up and out of the deep woods. It’s one of the steeper hills we have on the campsite, actually. If I were a child with a shiny new wagon, no regard for my personal safety, and a penchant for mischief, I would certainly come barreling down that hill and into the clearing.
I positioned the pickup truck for easy flight back up out of the deep woods and started attaching the tripwire to trees on either side of the entrance. The dancers paused as I began my work. They stared up at me but none of them made a move. I couldn’t help but think about rule #4. The latter half of it.
“If they do not welcome you, but instead stop and stare, back away slowly and then leave. If they follow you, you can try to run, but it is likely already too late. Pray that death comes swiftly.”
But surely this would be fine, right? I was trying to help them and I hadn’t made an attempt to join them. I wasn’t even in the clearing.
Still. It was enough for a cold sweat to break out on the back of my neck.
“Don’t mind me!” I called to the dancers. “Just putting up a tripwire.”
Most of the dancers dismissed my presence at that explanation and returned to the fire. The lead dancer, however, meandered over. She glanced curiously at the wire that I was looping around a stout tree.
“We’re not affected by any metals,” she said. “You tried that already.”
“This isn’t for you.”
My lack of elaboration was deliberate. I was hoping she wouldn’t figure out my plan. I feared she’d take offense at the fact I was using their bonfire as bait. Unfortunately, these inhuman things are used to deceit by omission. It’s about the only form of deception that most of them have access to, after all.
“The children,” she said.
“Yep,” I replied as I jerked the wire tight and clipped it off.
“And what happens after that? Once the children have been angered?”
“Well I’m going to jump in the pickup and drive really fast in the opposite direction. I don’t know what you all are going to do, so you might want to figure that out here.”
“You better know what you’re getting all of us into, camp manager.”
She walked off, leaving me to finish my work with that threat hanging over my head. Did I know? I’ll be honest: not really. I haven’t seen much of what the children are capable of with my own eyes. My uncle’s stories gave me some clues, but he was also prone to embellishment. I figured that if I was going to anger the dancers, it might as well be by doing something that would benefit them. Maybe they’d go easy on me. Make me dance until I collapsed again or something other than leaving my dismembered but still living body scattered somewhere.
I’d barely finished the tripwire before I heard the rattling of a wagon from the top of the hill. Swearing, I ran to the truck and dropped the tailgate. I hadn’t enough time to prepare completely. I’d planned to have the truck already running, but now I’d just have to settle for the keys being in the ignition. I crouched down beside the truck and waited.
I didn’t have a good vantage. I heard the rattle of the wagon and the gleeful yelling of the children. Slowly, the dancers all turned to look at the direction they were coming. I saw the resignation on their faces. For all their power, they were helpless to do anything. I suppose that is the curse of their nature. These inhuman things are bound by patterns and rules. It is humans that can change the world.
Then the wagon hit the tripwire. I heard a twang and then the shriek of children. I saw them go flying up in the air, limbs windmilling in the air, and the wagon was behind them, flipping to land upside-down on the ground. The children hit the dirt and rolled.
I sprinted forwards and seized the handle of the wagon. I didn’t stop to look at the children. Speed was my only advantage now. I ran, dragging the wagon behind me, and then I swung it up and over into the pickup bed. Then I ran to the driver’s side door and wrenched it open.
Behind me, the children had gone eerily silent. Their cries had ceased and the only sound I heard was the crackling of the bonfire. I risked a look, just before I stepped up into the truck. The children were arrayed in a line at the edge of the clearing, glowering at me in hate, and their eyes seemed to glint. Behind them, the dancers stood by uselessly and watched.
Between myself and the children was the former sheriff, his arms crossed over his chest and feet planted.
“That’s enough of that,” he drawled.
“But it’s our wagon,” one of the children whined.
“And you were misusing it so now she’s taking it away. That’s within her rights as the campground manager.”
For a brief moment I was filled with hope. Sure, they were inhuman things, but I guess they were still children in some way. Maybe all they needed was a grown-up telling them what to do, one that straddled the line between human and inhuman and still remembered what it felt like to make the world do as he willed.
I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I actually felt grateful towards him.
And then it all went to hell.
A deer came leaping over the pickup bed. It cleared the truck, easily, and continued on over my head. I probably didn’t even need to duck and cover, but instinct kicked in and as a monstrous shape passed overhead, I hit the dirt. The deer landed hard on the other side of the pickup truck and kept going. The dancers scattered before it. The children stood frozen in place, the anger in their eyes faltering as their eyes widened with dismay.
They realized the deer wasn’t about to stop. And why should it? It was the size of a horse and on its back was a fairy, resplendent in the full power of its kind, armed with a boar spear and clad in armor. They ran, shrieking, and then whirled to stand just out of reach at the edges of the clearing. They howled invective at the fairy, their faces pinched with frustrated fury.
And I thought I had foul language.
The fairy, of course, ignored them. The deer spun around, snorting thick clouds of steam into the cold air, and lowered its head to point its antlers at where I lay on the ground, pressed up against the pickup truck’s front tire. The fairy, too, leveled its boar spear in my direction.
I’m pretty sure I might have pissed myself right then and there if not for the fact that every muscle in my body had constricted in utter, blind, terror and I was incapable of movement in any way. I’m fairly certain my breathing stopped and I’m probably lucky that my heart wasn’t like ‘yep nope we’re not dealing with a fairy, we’re out and you’re on your own, g’luck with that.’
It was the lead dancer that saved me. She screamed my name. Her voice snapped me out of my terrified daze and I realized that the fairy wasn’t looking at me, nor was their weapon leveled precisely in my direction.
It was waiting for something behind me. And on this campground, knowing what I know, there was only one creature that would dare pursue a fairy.
I scrambled to all fours and threw myself away from the pickup truck. I had barely gotten a yard away when there was a horrible scream from behind me - the bray of an anguished, enraged animal - and I instinctively turned my head back to look.
The dapple-gray stallion reared over my pickup truck. Its eyes were white and on its hooves glinted thick iron shoes. All I could see of its rider was the glowing red eye.
Then it brought its hooves down on my pickup truck bed. There was a horrendous screech of metal, drowning out the scream of the stallion, and my pickup truck bent in two like it was made of paper. The axles twisted, the frame collapsed, and the windows shattered.
So now the camp pickup truck is totaled and there’s really not money in the budget for a new one. The only silver lining here is that the children’s wagon was directly under one of the horse’s hooves when it came crashing down. I saw one of its wheels go bouncing away into the darkness.
Upon seeing this, the children wailed in dismay.
“Not fair!” one screamed. The others quickly echoed its cry.
And then… one of them picked up a clod of dirt and threw it at the dapple-gray stallion and its rider.
The horse shrieked and stamped a hoof in response, shaking its head to clear the dirt from its mane. And on its back the fomorian didn’t even bother looking in its direction. It sat straight up, no longer hunched over and limping, but proud and tall upon its steed. Its cloak still covered most of its body, but I caught glimpses of tattered leather and bits of metal covering its wasted flesh, pale and pockmarked. Then it put its hand inside the cloak and withdrew something small, the size of a pebble. It flicked this at the children.
There was a flash of red light where it struck. One of the children screamed in terror and I saw the others reaching for their companion, grabbing its hands and pulling it free of the miasma now enveloping it. A dark mist, from inside which something thrashed and writhed in wild, chaotic movements. A lurch, and the children fell backwards into a heap. Then they rolled to their feet and ran, vanishing into the forest. The dancers were fleeing as well. And with good reason - the clearing was about to become a battleground.
The two charged each other. The fairy leveled the boar spear, the fomorian only stretched out its hand. The boar spear hit, I heard the impact of it sliding into the fomorian’s side, but it did not seem bothered by the wound. It only wrapped its hand around the shaft and ripped it clean out of the fairy’s grasp. Then it threw it aside and the weapon spun through the air, firelight rippling along the metal, and it smashed through a slender tree and toppled it before coming to a halt somewhere in the woods, beyond the reach of the light. The fairy seemed undeterred. It drew its sword while their steeds vied for an advantage. The stallion was stretching its head, attempting to bite at the deer’s neck, while the deer fended it off with its horns. The stallion’s iron shoes struck a flurry of sparks with each step.
A flash of metal as the fairy brought its sword to bear. The fomorian ducked the swing and the stallion danced sideways, bringing its rider out of reach of the weapon. I caught a glimpse of it turning its eye towards me and for a moment our gazes locked and I saw the understanding in its look. There was an opportunity here. I was now within reach of its hooves, as I tried unsuccessfully to slink out of the clearing in the opposite direction the children had gone. All it had to do was sidestep.
For a moment, all I could see was the immense hoof raising as it reared up and pivoted in my direction.
A heavy hand seized the back of my jacket. I had a moment of surprise and then my body instinctively went rigid and my stomach dropped away as the ground rapidly receded beneath me. Then the acceleration evened out, I was weightless for a moment, spreading my arms and legs and futilely grasping for solid purchase before I fell, my gaze locked on the ground far beneath me.
A sharp jerk at the back of my jacket. My body swung and I curled in on myself, just before the side of my body slammed against a tree trunk. Then I dangled there, my jacket straining to hold my weight, the seams digging into my armpits.
It took a moment for the panic to subside. I mostly held very, very still, breathing shallowly, trying to piece together what had just happened.
“Horse would have crushed your skull, camp manager,” a deep, gravelly voice above me rumbled. “Funny to see, but then you are not so useful.”
I tentatively glanced up and then hastily averted my gaze again before I reached the shadows of its cowl. One of the musicians held me. Its hands and feet were driven into the tree and while I knew it had normal fingers, they were still stuck into the wood up to the knuckles. It wouldn’t be falling anytime soon. Me? I carefully crossed my arms, trying to get a grip on the jacket - held firmly in the musician’s free hand - that was the only thing that stood between me and plummeting back down to the ground.
If the fall didn’t kill me, the battle raging below sure would. The fomorian was trying to close with the fairy, but it was having trouble getting close as the fairy’s sword work was keeping it at bay. Then I heard the barking of dogs and out of the shadows came immense, sleek shapes, as black as the night itself. They formed a half-circle around the fomorian, snarling and snapping, and the stallion began to back away. The fairy did not pursue. It seemed this skirmish was drawing to a close, with the fomorian retreating from the threat of the dogs.
“I take you home now, yes?” the musician holding me aloft asked.
“That would be swell, sure,” I replied.
I kind of figured it would just set me down and maybe walk me to the wood’s edge, but no, it apparently thought we were safer in the trees and it just kind of flung itself from tree to tree like lumberjack Spider-Man or something. After the second sickening lurch and momentarily weightlessness, I just closed my eyes really tight and let fear paralyze me. I can’t even describe what a relief it was to be back on solid ground when we reached the edge of the woods.
When I recovered my wits, I turned to thank the musician, but it was gone.
I wish I could say that was all there was to it, that the first battle between the fairy and the fomorian had resulted in some trees being felled and nothing more. I went down to the clearing this morning to take a look and that pebble that the fomorian flicked at the children? I don’t think it was a pebble.
I think it was a seed.
Thorns have sprouted where it landed. Blackened, twisted branches like they’ve been burnt. They wrap around the nearby trees and wherever they touch, their thorns pierce into the bark and the wood around the wound is charred and flakes away into ash.
The fomorian will destroy my land in his battle to kill the fairy.
I’m a campground manager. I can’t let that happen. [x]
But first let's talk about the children again.
Read the full list of rules.
Visit the campground's website.

Updated Walmart Jargon, acronyms, initialisms, and information you should know

4 years ago, u/melantonpsn created a jargon list for use by this subreddit. Due to recent updates and changes in the company, I decided to update said list.
If you're still out there, melantonpsn, thank you for your hard work in creating the original list
This is mainly just a copy/paste of their original list, with the new changes added in along with things I've learned from personal experience. It may not be 100% correct, but that is where you come in! If you see anything on here that appears to be wrong, or don't see something that you feel should be, please let me know so I can update the list. This is meant to help everyone, especially new associates, so it is imperative that we have the correct information.

Without further ado, I present to you the list:
Types of Stores:
SC: A supercenter
Div 1: a smaller type of store. It carries less items and does not have all departments
NHM: Neighborhood Market
Sam's Club: A Walmart company that requires a membership to shop at
Departments
Apparel: 24: Boys wear
30: Bras and Shapewear
41: College and Pro Sports Apparel
33: Girls Wear
28: Hosiery
26: Infant Apparel
32: Jewelry and Sunglasses
31: Ladies Accessories and Handbags
29: Ladies Sleepwear
23: Men’s Wear
34: Misses and Junior Apparel
36: Outerwear and Swimwear
35: Plus size and Maternity
25: Shoes
27: Socks
Consumables:
46: Beauty/Cosmetics
2: HBA
13: Household Chemicals and Cleaning Supplies
4: Household Paper Goods
79: Infants Consumables
40: OTC pharmacy
8: Pets and Supplies
Entertainment:
85: 1 Hour Photo
21: Books and Magazines
6: Cameras and Supplies/Photo
72: Electronics
5: Media and Gaming
87: Wireless Devices
58: Wireless Services
Food:
98: Bakery
1: Candy and Tobacco
81: Commercial Bread
90: Dairy
95: DSD Grocery
91: Frozen Foods
92: Grocery
82: Impulse/Checkout Merchandise
96: Liquor
93: Meat and Seafood
97: Meat and Deli Wall
94: Produce
80: Service Deli
Homelines:
20: Bath and Shower
22: Bedding
14: Cook and Dine and Small Appliances
19: Crafts
44: Fabric
71: Furniture
17: Home Decór
74: Storage and Organization
Hardlines:
37: ACC
10: Automotive
67: Celebrations
48: Firearms
11: Hardware
77: Large Appliances
56: Live Plants and Garden Supplies
16: Outdoor Living
12: Paint and Accessories
18: Seasonal (Easter, Halloween, Christmas, Thanksgiving/Fall, Valentines Day, etc.)
9: Sporting Goods
3: Stationary
7: Toys
Miscellaneous:
50: Doctor Fees/Optical Service Income
65: Fuel
15: Health and Wellness Clinics
49: Optical
38: Pharmacy Prescriptions
89: Travel
86: Walmart Financial Services
69: Walmart.com sales
99: Store Assets
Store Positions
SM: the store manager. This is the highest role in stores. They are the ones in charge of the entire place.
SL: Store Lead. This position exists only in certain stores. They work directly opposite the store manager, helping to run the day to day operations of the store.
Coach: A salaried member of management who runs a wide area. The amount of coaches you have in your store will be determined by your store, as will what they are over. They report directly to the store manager.
Coach Trainee: An hourly member of management who is in training to become a Coach.
ASM: Assistant Store Manager. A salaried member of management who runs a specific area, much like a coach. Most of these positions were phased out with the introduction of the Coach role, but a few still remain. They report to the store leads or, in the absence of store leads, the store manager.
APASM: A salaried member of management in charge of all things AP. This is mainly things like theft, but can also include other things as well.
TL: Team Lead. Directly under the coach, these hourly supervisors run a small team. They work to develop the members of that team. They may also act as the manager on duty in the absence of a salaried member of management (must have training to do so).
AT: Academy trainers. This position currently only exists in NHMs. This position is in charge of training new employees. In Supercenters, this role falls to the team lead.
TA: Team associate. This is the regular associates of Walmart.
DM: Department Manager. This position has been almost completely phased out, save for a few exceptions. Their job is to run a specific department.
Claims Supervisor: The person in charge of claims.
APA: Asset Protection Associate. This person is meant to help stop theft. They will often roam the store, keeping an eye on customers whom they deem suspicious and will deal with theft issues as they arise.
SC(O)H: Self checkout host. This person watches over the self checkouts, helping customers and looks for items not scanned.
APCH: AP Customer Host. This person is in charge of doing receipt checks at the doors.
Stockman: a cart pusher
Mod Associate: an Associate who sets mods. Often based on overnights.
People Lead: often referred to as HR, they are the ones in charge of orientations, hiring, etc.
Old Positions
Cap 1: in charge of cleaning up freight and capping grocery and consumable bins. Replaced by stocking team 1
Cap Supervisor: In charge of Cap 1. Replaced by Stocking Lead 1
FCAP 1: Fresh cap team 1. In charge of working the Meat, Produce, Bakery, and Deli Freight and capping. Replaced by Meat/Produce team, bakery team, and deli team.
FCAP 1 Supervisor: In charge of FCAP 1. Replaced by Meat/Produce Lead, Bakery Lead, and Deli Lead
Cap 2: In charge of unloading the GM truck and working freight in grocery and consumables. Replaced by Stocking Team 2
Cap 2 Supervisor: In charge of Cap 2. Replaced by Stocking Lead 2.
Support Manager: A position in charge of various things across the stores. Often referred to as "Managements bitch", they basically do whatever salaried members of management ask of them while often helping to run the store. Often viewed as a stepping stone between hourly management and salaried management.
FCAP 2: Fresh Cap 2. In charge of capping, culling, and doing markdowns for Meat, Produce, Bakery, and Deli. Replaced by Meat/Produce team, Bakery Team, and Deli Team.
ON: Overnights. In charge of different things which vary by store, but usually FDD freight, finishing up Grocery and consumable freight, and working GM Freight. Replaced by Stocking Team 3
ON Support Manager: In charge of overnights. They report directly to the overnight asm. Were also MODs in the lack of a salaried member of management. Replaced by Stocking Lead 3.
CSM: customer service manager. Often found to be wearing yellow vests, they are in charge of running the front end. Replaced by Front End Lead
Locations
Grocery Doors: The entrance doors at the front of the store on the grocery side. Will stay open for as long as the store is open.
GM Doors: The entrance doors at the front of the store on the GM side. Will often close earlier in the evening, funneling everyone through the grocery doors.
Cart bay: where carts are stores for customers when they come into the store
Cart rails: the set of shelves as you come into the store. Called cart rails as they’re right next to or near the cart bays
Bullpen: the encircled area where the self check outs are located
TLE: Tire and Lube Express. Also known as ACC (auto care center)
HBA: Health and Beauty Aids. Also known as HBC (Health and Beauty Care)
OTC: Over the Counter. Refers to Pharmacy
L&G: Lawn and Garden
FDD: Frozen, Dairy, and Deli
CO: Cash Office
Front End: The front of the store. The front end is usually located between the two entrances. It includes all the registers at the front of the store and the service desk, but also includes positions like maintenance and stockmen.
Sales Floor: The area customers have available to shop
Back Room: The employee-only area. This is where trucks are unloaded and overstock goes. HR, Management Offices (except AP), and the break room are also located back here.
Softlines: Apparel departments
Consumables: Items that people use often. These include HBA, Cosmetics, Chemicals, Paper goods, Infants, OTC, and Pets.
Entertainment: everything often referred to as "electronics".
Grocery: any food or drink item, not including fresh
Fresh: Meat, Produce, Deli, and Bakery.
Homelines: Things you would use in a home. Things like bedding, furniture, cooking items, etc. are located in this area.
Hardlines: Basically everything else that doesn't fit into the above categories. These are things people may want, but aren't a necessity.
Action Alley
Action Alley: these are the areas in between departments. They are where customers and associates alike will walk as they are often the quickest ways around the store. They also will have features inside of them to increase sales.
B Action Alley: The Action Alley that separates grocery from apparel
The Cross: the section that separates apparel departments. As apparel is often a different color from the rest of the floor, it is easy to see the division here.
Horse Shoe: Toys, ACC, Hardware, HBA and OTC. When looking at them from a birds eye view, they will often make a horseshoe shape, but this is not in all stores.
Bowling Alley: the area between apparel and the front end registers. It is said that customers often look like bowling pins when they are lined up. May also be called the trench.
Main Alley: The back most action alley. May also be known as Long Action Alley or Back Action Alley
Race Track: All of the action alleys combined
Walls
Wet Wall: Located in Produce, its the wall with the fresh vegetables on it. Will often have rugs underneath to absorb excess moisture as there are sprinklers on this wall.
Meat Wall: The area where meat is sold
97 Wall: the area that holds bacon, hot dogs, lunch meat, lunchables, and the like
End Cap: At the end of all aisles that aren't against a wall. Features are set here to capture customer's eyes and sell more product.
Zoning
While zoning, Walmart employs a method known as fast zoning. To do a proper fast zone, take the following steps:

for the first layer (the layer touching the shelf) start at the edge of the shelf closest to you.
Fill all the way back until you reach the end of the shelf. Do not stack anything until this first layer is completed.
After the first layer is completed, you may start the second layer. The second layer (and all layers above this) start at the back of the shelf and come forward. Do not start another layer until the previous layer is full.

Stocking
Case: a box of freight that holds multiple items inside of it that go on the shelf.
PDQ: Product Display Quantity. Some products will come in special cases meant to show off the product better. Also known as SRPs (Shelf Ready Packaging)
Breakpacks: the mixed boxes that come off the truck that will have small items in them that couldn't be thrown into the truck. May also be referred to as Totes, One Touch, or Casepack.
Fast track: The piece of plastic that holds the shelf labels
Bunkers: Located in grocery, these are the frozen or chilled areas not connected to the walls. They are often used for features. Also known as cooler bunker
Stackbase: a 4x4 plastic/wooden pallet that goes in action alley. Holds features.
COMAC: Food features that Home Office mandates
TIP: Towel in Pocket. Some associates will carry towels with them so they can easily clean up small spills. Not to be confused with TIPS
Buttholes: Hanging products can often rip, making it so they can't be hung anymore. Buttholes are sticky pieces of plastic that are attached to products like that so they can be rehung. May also be known as tabs, do-its, dang-it’s or damn-it’s.
Topstock: The highest shelves. They are meant to hold products that can't go on the shelves. May also be called risers
WACOs: Walmart Approved Corrugated Container. boxes kept on topstock or the backroom that are meant to hold products that don't easily fit on topstock or in the bins. Usually because they're so small or tend to roll around
Transportation
L Cart: an cart that makes an L shape with its handle. Also called a long cart
Rocket Cart: a 2-leveled cart that folded up for easy storage. These carts are being taken out of stores due to a number of incidents where associates received injuries due to the latches failing.
Top-Stock Cart: A cart with 3 levels on it. Attached to the front is a ladder, making reaching topstock much easier. May also be called a ladder cart.
Pallet Jack: a 2 pronged fork on wheels used to drive pallets around the store.
Electric Pallet Jack: an electric version of the pallet jack usually used to unload trucks or move especially heavy pallets.
Walkie Stacker: a type of lift used to reach the top steel or stack pallets.
Forklift: a type of lift used outside that is meant to carry and stack pallets. Can also be used to unload trucks.
Scissor Lift: a lift that carries a person and possibly some merchandise. Mainly used in Lawn and Garden and during seasonal sets to put up seasonal decorations or signs.
Trucks and the Backroom
HVDC: High Velocity Distribution Center. This is the grocery truck. Also called remix
McLanes: The candy truck. While it may have other departments in it (mainly pets, OTC, Tobacco, and grocery) it is almost all candy. Depending on location it may also be CoreMark
Origin: The truck that McLanes arrives on
Dance Floor: The space used for truck unloading
Hole in the Wall: the Trash Compactor. May also be called Oscar (like Oscar the grouch)
Baler: where plastic and cardboard are recycled. The baler makes compact, rectangular bales that are then taken to recycling centers to be reused.
Bin: The individual areas where overstock is kept in the backroom.
Steel: the steel that overstock is kept in. Contains the bins
Top-Steel: where pallets of merchandise or other important items are stores in the backroom. Located at the top of the steel.
Cap: The process of scanning items into a bin
Pick: When capping, the scanner will tell you if an item needs to go out to the floor.
Work: After capping, working the cart is when you take the cart of merchandise out and stock the items that were picked.
Inventory Flow Process: the process of items making their way from the manufacturer to customers homes.
CAP: Customer Availability Program. The process of making sure our shelves are stocked for the customers
DSD: Direct to Store Delivery. Products that come in from warehouses other than those owned by Walmart. Are usually stocked by the vendors or reps from those companies.
MABD: Must Arrive By Date
OSCA: On Shelf Customer Availability. The percentage of items we have in stock and on the shelves so that customers may purchase them
RPCs: Reusable Plastic Containers. the foldable plastic crates used in fresh departments.
Backload: sending pallets, rpcs, and break pack boxes back to the warehouses so they can be reused.
Miscellaneous
CBLs: Computer Based Learning. Replaced by the ULearn System
Telxon: an old scanner. Most stores do not have these anymore, but some still hold on to these relics. They are most often used in fabrics and crafts. Other forms of scanners include MCs or TCs. May also be referred to as a scanner, handheld, or gun (there are little triggers that sort of make the scanners look like guns
Onboarding: The initial training videos associates watch when they are hired. Replaced pathways
ULearn: The additional training associates will undergo every so often.
TIPS: Threaten Intimidate Promise Spy. An illegal method of dealing with unionizing
FOE: Facts, Opinions, and experiences. A lawful way of dealing with unionizing.
The Mule: the machines that stockmen use to push carts
Shopping Cart Party: When a group of associates goes outside to round up carts. Happens when stockmen fall behind. Also known as a buggy run
HEATKTE: High Expectations are the Key to Everything (Pronounced Het-Ka-Tee)
EDLC: Every day low cost. The way Walmart keeps prices low by reducing everyday costs.
EDLP: Every day low price. Correlates with EDLC
WOSH: Worked over Scheduled Hours. Will depend on the time of year and your management team, but as a general rule, working longer than you're scheduled is frowned upon unless you have management approval. You may be asked to cut any extra hours you accumulate throughout the week by taking a longer lunch or leaving early/coming in late
OBW: One best way. This is the official way everything is supposed to be run. Most stores do not follow this, however, and run things however they please.
Coaching: a disciplinary action.
Open Door: the process of taking concerns, ideas, or problems to higher ups. Starting with your immediate supervisor (or the next step higher if your supervisor is part of the problem), you discuss the idea or problem with management until it is resolved.
Ethics: a place to take all your ethical concerns. Be aware that ethics only deals with issues that are legal issues or are in direct violation of Walmarts Statement of Ethics.
GWP: Great Workplace. The phasing out of old supervisor roles to make way for the new team system. Has been renamed Teaming.
GAIN: global associate interactive network. the process of ending an associates employment.
One Walmart: Walmart’s site for employees. May also be called the wire
Me@walmart: a free app on the App Store that allows you to view your schedule. Replaced the mywalmartschedule app
BYOD: allows you to download work apps to your personal phone. Only available in certain states.
WIN: Walmart Identification Number. This is your employee number.

The Last Ride of Roy Wilson (Part 2)

As the distorted colossus of animal flesh burned by the barn, Cooper emerged from the ranch, his Winchester still in hand.

“Christ’s sake, the hell was that thing?” He demanded. His eyes were bright in the firelight, which chased away the darkness that enveloped us as night fell. Starkmann only continued to stare at the dead creature, as if he expected it to rise up again and keep on fighting. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it had.

“Hell if I know,” I replied. Even I could hear the uneasy tremble in my voice. “Dead animals stitched together… Thought they were dead, anyway.”
“Well they look fuckin’ dead now,” Cooper said before spitting in the dirt. He glanced over at Starkmann who rolled a cigarette with a shaking hand and wiped the sweat off his brow. For a moment, all of us were silent and we watched that thing burn until we couldn’t recognize what parts had belonged to what animals anymore. Cooper shook his head again and took a step back towards the ranch. I could see a rush in his gait as if he aimed to get the hell away from that thing as soon as possible. I could hardly blame him.

“Roy, Doc. c’mon. Let’s get us some goddamn answers.” He growled. My eyes lingered on the burning carcass of the thing in the barn before I followed Cooper. Starkmann didn’t move at all. The man seemed lost in his own little world. I let him be.
“Please tell me there ain’t more of those fucking things in the house,” I said under my breath.
“No, but there’s something else.” He’d replied as he stepped through the door.

The fire from outside lit up the small kitchen and cast an orange glow that allowed us to see clearly enough. The Marshal led me up the stairs and into a bedroom, where I spotted the shape of a woman curled into a ball, almost hiding underneath one of the nearby beds. Cooper stayed outside the door, his gun still in hand as if he was expecting trouble. Me on the other hand? I knew otherwise.
“Christ, is that Martha Roberts?” I asked. I glanced at Cooper but I couldn’t read his face.
“You tell me, son.” He replied.

Slowly, I approached the woman under the bed. Even in the long, flickering shadows cast from the fire outside, I recognized her although only barely. She was rail-thin, pale, and sickly. She barely resembled the smiling, rosy-cheeked woman I’d met ten years back. Her eyes were sunken in, her hair looked stringy and thin. But I still remembered her.
“Martha?” I asked. She didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge my voice.
“Martha, it’s me, Roy. Roy Wilson. You remember me?”
Still no reply. Not even a shift of her head, to let me know she’d heard me.

“I’d just found her like that before I heard the shooting.” Cooper said, “Didn’t have much time to talk to her… Didn’t get anything anyway. I presume you two know each other.”
“Yeah. She’s Dick Roberts wife.” I replied. I gently reached out to try and coax her upwards. She didn’t put up any resistance and I managed to get her into a sitting position. Her breathing was slow and steady but her eyes seemed vacant. The stillness in her reminded me too much of Egor Starkmann.

“Question is, where’s Dick Roberts.” Cooper said. He came up behind me and crouched down at my side. He put on that boyish smile of his and tried to speak to her.
“Are you alright, ma’am? You hurt in any way?”
No response. Martha’s eyes didn’t so much as move to acknowledge him. Her head just slumped to the side, like a corpse. Her eyes were vacant and unfocused. If she weren’t still suckin’ air I might have thought she really was dead.

“Ma’am?” Cooper asked one last time, although I got the sense he’d already given up hope on her. “Christ… Same as the folks on the train…” He muttered under his breath before standing up.
“Which means Jonesy was here.” I added, “Could be they left something behind. We should poke around. Maybe we’ll figure out where they’re headed.”

I could tell that Cooper was thinking the same thing.
“Hell, if we’re lucky your friend Dick is still here. Alive, preferably.”
“Dick…” A voice rasped from behind us. Both Cooper and I turned to look at Martha. She stayed by the bed, slumped against it but her eyes had finally focused on us.
“Dick…” She repeated and I returned to her side.
“Yeah Martha, we’re looking for Dick. Where’s he at?”

Her eyes glazed over towards the window. She slowly lifted an arm and pointed towards it. I didn’t need to go and look to know what she was pointing at. I could see the barn from where I stood, and the glow of the fire from the dead thing we’d found inside.
“Dick…” She repeated.
“The hell is she on about?” Cooper asked. He looked at Martha again. “Where the hell is your husband, woman?”
I just continued to stare out the window, before looking back at Martha.
“I think that was her husband, Cooper…”
“What? That thing in the yard? Christ's sakes, Roy! That thing wasn’t even human! How the fuck was that Dick Roberts?”
“I don’t know,” I replied plainly, before shaking my head. I figured that so long as Martha was sorta talking, maybe I might get something resembling answers.

“Forget it… Martha. What about Daniel Jones? Jonsey. You see him come through here?”
Her eyes shifted to me. It took a moment, but I saw her head begin to nod. The movement was slow but deliberate.
“Jonsey…” She repeated. “And… Her…”
“Her?” Cooper asked, his brow furrowed. “Who the hell is she talking about, Roy?”
“Beats me… Who do you mean by ‘Her’, Martha?”

The woman seemed to curl up a little bit, as if she was expecting to be struck. She shook her head, a violent jerking motion from side to side before she collapsed. Cooper got down to help her up again.
“Who was with Jonsey, Martha?” I asked, “I need to know. Who was with him?”
Her eyes burned into mine, wide and brimming with new tears.
“Her…” Martha croaked, “Her… Her… Her…”
“Who?” Cooper asked, trying not to raise his voice. He glanced from me, back to Martha as she continued to mutter that same word over and over again.
“Her… Her… Her…”

Her body went limp in Cooper's arms, her words slurred as she twitched and convulsed. Her eyes seemed wild and stared blankly up at the ceiling.
“Shit, she’s not right…” Cooper cried, “DOC! STARKMANN!”
He gently moved Martha into my arms before running for the window to call Starkmann. The woman just continued to twitch and babble although, for just a second, her eyes met mine as she spoke her last word.

“Shaal…” She said it so clearly, and that word hit me like a cold exhale. Then… Nothing. Her body went limp. She was gone. I could hear Starkmann's boots thudding against the floor out in the hall. When he burst into the room, I laid Martha down so he could try and save her. I suspect I already knew that she was too far gone to save though.

That last word hung in my mind, unwilling to leave.
‘Shaal.’
Something about it sent a chill through me. I rubbed my temples and recalled the drawings in Egors room, the strange horizons with the great cross left blank in the sky. Cooper put an arm around me and led me out of the room as Starkmann did his vain work.

“Christ… What a fucking mess…” He murmured. He took off his hat and wiped at his brow, before looking at me again.
“I don’t figure you’ve got any ideas who ‘Her’ might be?”
“No, I don’t. Blake didn’t run with no women. Not while I was with him. He sure as hell didn’t run with anyone who’d leave a person like that…”
“Christ…” He repeated. “Hell, we’ll search. See what we turn up.”
“Yeah. We’ll see.” I said absently. I could hear Starkmann's efforts to revive Martha in the next room going silent.

“Marshal, I don’t suppose you’d recognize the name Shaal, would you?”
“Shaal?” He repeated, “No. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Martha said it when you went to call Starkmann… Right before she stopped breathing.”
“Sounds like a name. Someone else in Jones’ crew? Could even be our mysterious lady friend.”
“I ain’t never heard of anyone named Shaal.” I said.
“Well, you have now. I’ll send a line to some associates of mine back in San Antonio. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll recognize the name.” Cooper said. I didn’t feel so sure of that.

Starkmann stepped out of the bedroom, his face grim. His silence told us all we needed to know and for a moment, the three of us shared that silence. “We’ll start by searching the rooms, and we’ll bury her before we go.” Cooper finally said. There was an exhaustion in his voice. “Roy, check the barn. We know that’s clear… Starkmann, check downstairs. We’ll check the cellar together.”
Starkmann just gave a nod, before turning to head back downstairs. I hesitated for just a moment before making my way down to the barn.

The stink from that rotten beast hadn’t gone away quite yet. If anything, burning it had only made it stink worse. What was left was no more than a pile of charred flesh, that split and curled back, making the crude stitches that held it together popping. I kept my distance as I returned to the barn, my iron in my hand just in case there was anything else waiting for me in there.

The barn itself looked like nothin’ special. Aside from the mess of dried blood and buzzing flies, I might not have thought too much of it at a glance. As I pressed on inside, the wooden floor creaked with every footstep. Looking up, I saw the crucified dog that Starkmann had mentioned. My stomach lurched a bit. It didn’t seem right to see a kindly animal strung up like that. The cross wasn’t like a normal cross, though. No, this one was in the shape of a X. Like the one St. Andrew died on. Somehow, I doubted that this had been a tribute to him. No, if anything this seemed like something else. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a small desk sitting in one corner of the barn, along with a few papers strewn about atop it. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

The light from the fire outside was enough for me to try to read those papers, but there wasn’t much on them I could clearly make out. Diagrams of animals, like what a butcher might use, mixed with a looping, effeminate script. The fragments that I read didn’t make sense to me and I didn’t dwell on them long. I felt something metallic bump against my boot and looked down to see what it was.

It was a metal ring, looped through a small cellar doorway on the floor. I hesitated for a moment, before giving it a good couple of stomps with my heel. If there were anything down there, some noise might have woken it. I didn’t hear anything. I reached down and opened the cellar door. There was a set of wooden stairs leading into what looked like a dirt hole, hastily dug out beneath the barn. No doubt it had been used in the past to store ill-gotten goods… and yet judging by the pile of leavings and the dirty bedding in one corner, there’d been a man down there not all that long ago.

I spotted the glimmer of something shiny in amongst the bedding and reached down to pick it up. It looked to be a gold rosary, with a rather ornate design. I backed out of the little hole under the barn to get a better look at it in the firelight. It might’ve been loot from the train robbery… Or an heirloom belonging to the fella who’d been down in that little hole. I clutched it tight and made my way back to the house, hoping that Cooper might know a thing or two about it.

Cooper was downstairs with Starkmann when I got back into the house. They’d lit up a lamp and were at the kitchen table, fussing over Cooper's map, and some charred piece of paper.
“You two find something?” I asked.
“In the fireplace.” Cooper replied, “Map of some sort from the looks of it. Starkmanns trying to figure out what it shows. There wasn’t anything to find upstairs and the cellar’s just got stores and rats. You find anything in the barn?”
“Few things, actually,” I said and held up the rosary. Starkmann glanced at it from the corner of his eye before shooting upright, a funny look in his eye.

“You found that in the barn?” He asked. He outstretched a hand for it, and I tossed it to him.
“Beneath the barn. There was a little dirt cellar. Looked to me like someone was being kept down there, up until recently.”
Cooper's brow furrowed.
“Jesus…”
“You find anything else?” Starkmann asked, “Clothes? A letter? Anything?”
“Not in the hole I didn’t. There were some awful queer papers on the butchery of animals… Didn’t look like much use, though.” I paused and studied the way that Starkmann clutched the rosary tight.

“What’s it to you?” I asked.
“I know this rosary.” Starkmann said, “I know the man who this belongs to. You said you found it in the barn, you mean that?”
“Why the hell would I lie about it?”
“YOU SWEAR YOU FOUND THIS IN THE BARN!” Starkmann roared. Cooper raised an arm between us and I caught myself shrinking back a step.
“Now just wait a minute, Doc. Calm down. Who did that rosary come from.”

“Bishop John Strickland. He’s been a close friend of the Starkmann family for many years. He and my father grew up together, they were like brothers. My father gave him this rosary. A gift, for his enthronement. I’d know it anywhere.” He paused, taking a moment to compose himself. I could see his hands trembling as he swore and kicked at the wall. “We had a mutual friend in San Antonio, Egor and I had gotten word from Strickland that his health had taken a turn for the worst. He’d left to say his goodbyes before it was too late. The only reason I was not on that train with him, was the health of one of my own patients.”

Cooper and I traded a glance.
“I don’t know about you, but that seems a strange coincidence that the man who was likely in that cellar was a close friend of a man from that train robbery…” I said quietly.
“A strange coincidence indeed…” Cooper agreed, “I’d reckon that Egor knew where to find Bishop Strickland, right?”
“Of course he knew.” Starkmann replied harshly, “Hell, he might’ve been one of the few people who did know… I think there’s no need to pretend we all haven’t come to the very same conclusion. Our train robbery was no simple robbery. They were after Father Strickland, or at the very least someone who knew where they might find him.”

“Let’s just take it back a step.” Cooper said, “Before we start jumping to conclusions here, let’s look at the facts. Now, we’re sure that it was Daniel Jones behind that robbery and we’re sure that not only was he here, but he had Pastor Strickland in his custody. We’re all clear on that, right?”
“Crystal,” Starkmann said, through a frustrated exhale.
“Right. So, before we lose our heads let’s start asking where we’re headed for next. The obvious destination is wherever they marked on that map, correct?”

“Correct…” I could see some of the tension draining from Starkmanns shoulders, and I approached the map on the table. I leaned over it and studied the crudely scribbled landmarks. I could see a river nearby and checked the map Cooper had laid out for anything that matched. Starkmann had probably already seen the same thing I’d seen… But as I followed the bends of the rivers, I wondered if perhaps he’d only looked at the rivers in Texas...
“So, we find out where they’re headed, we find the Bishop and they all hang in San Antonio.”
“Or we leave ‘em in the dirt for the vultures.” I added, “The river on the map they burned, that branches off the Rio Grande, into Mexico.”
“The hell it does…” Cooper said as he leaned over my shoulder. He scanned the map and saw that I was right on the money. “Well shit…”

“They’re headed south of the border if they ain’t there already,” I said. “Last I checked, your authority ends at the border, Marshal.”
“More or less,” Cooper said, looking none too happy about it. “I’d need to send word to Virginia, maybe then we might get a warrant to pursue…”
“Which would take how long?” Starkmann demanded.
“Too damn long.” Cooper replied, “But that’s the only avenue we’ve got.”
“The only one you’ve got.” Starkmann corrected, “Not me. I have a friend in danger and a brother left scarred by these men, Marshal! I’ll not sit idly by and wait for approval before I pursue. Chances are the Bishop will be long dead or worse by the time you get word back from Virginia!”

“Doc, if you’re aiming to charge across the border by yourself, guns blazing, you’ve got another thing coming,” Cooper warned. “Now I admire your spirit. Truly I do. But if Jones and his men don’t kill you, you’ll answer to the law in Mexico and might end up dead anyway.”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll have no regrets,” Starkmann said. He glanced at me as if expecting me to chime in. I hardly can say I knew the man and I sure as hell didn’t know him well enough to die for him… But all the same, I caught myself sighing.

“The Doc is right, Cooper. If we wait on this, we’ll lose them and we’ll probably lose the Bishop.”
“And here I thought you didn’t want to go chasing after Jones.” Cooper said, “Why the change of heart?”
“Well, when I said that there weren’t no hostages involved. I ain’t exactly a saint but I don’t think I’d sleep too well if I left a man of the cloth to his fate… And given what we’ve seen here already, I’d prefer not to think on just what that fate may be.” I looked over at Starkmann, who for the first time since I’d met him looked genuinely happy to hear my voice.

“So, if you’re crossing the border then I am too. Now I understand that you’ve got rules you need to follow so we’ll go with or without you Marshal. I’ll think no less of you if you stay behind.”
Cooper looked between the two of us, his usual boyish smile absent. He was silent for a moment and leaned on the table as he thought things over. He glanced up at the window, where the fire that consumed the carcass of whatever we’d killed still burned bright.

“You know… Normally, I’d wish you two well, bury the girl, forget what I saw today and be on my way.” He said as he stared through the window. “But we ain’t even been gone a day yet and my gut tells me that there ain’t one thing normal about any of this. If I were a betting man, I wouldn’t place my money on this shit getting any less weird either… But I suppose you both know that already, don’t you?” He looked away from the window and shook his head. “We bury the girl first then we’ll talk about Mexico back at Chestnut Springs. I need a fucking drink.”
On that last part, all three of us were agreed.

We left the ranch behind after we’d buried Martha Roberts. The fire had spread to the barn and I thought it wouldn’t be long until it spread to the house as well. Perhaps that might be for the best. Whatever twisted things were done on that land were probably best burned. Starkmann, Cooper, and I will catch a train at dawn for Del Rio. Then we will find our way across the border. There, we’ll travel to the point on that burned map, and see what awaits us.

The whisky at the saloon in Chestnut Springs has not removed my memories of that thing in the barn… I believe I shall see it again in my dreams, perhaps for the rest of my life. That much, I could tolerate. And yet the thing that keeps me awake is the fear that what we killed at Stone Acres, whatever it was, was not the only one of its kind.

June 15th, 1887
We crossed the border two days ago and found ourselves in the wilderness of Coahuila. The journey was slow, almost grueling at times. We followed the river slowly getting closer to the spot marked on the map. The ride itself had been unremarkable, but between the three of us, we hardly spoke. I could see it in the eyes of Starkmann and Cooper. They hadn’t been sleeping any better than I had. Even during the nights, I could hear them tossing and turning. I didn’t need to ask why.

We still saw it when we tried to sleep. The limbs of that abomination, horse and cattle legs twisted until they were spider-like. The swollen, lumbering carcass of dead flesh that seemed to rip itself apart with its very bulk... I still see the dead eyes of the horse head, mounted clumsily over the skull of that bull… I still smell the stink of it. I knew they shared the same fear as I did long before we made it to the town. It just wasn’t until after we got there that we actually had a name for it…

We saw the fog first, so thick and heavy you could barely see the horse in front of you.
“Maybe we should stop for a bit.” I heard Cooper call, “Can’t see shit in this and if we lose one of the horses…”
“Terrains level enough for now.” Starkmann replied, “Don’t see any reason not to keep going.”
I didn’t weigh in. Unlike them, I saw the faded lights just ahead of us and kept my horse moving in that direction.
“Roy?” I heard Cooper call, followed by silence. I knew he’d seen what I’d seen and I suspected he knew what it must’ve meant too. Whatever we were looking for out there, we’d just found it.

“The hell is this?” Cooper asked, “A town of some sort?”
“Maybe at one point,” I said. I glanced at an old house that looked to be in the midst of collapsing. “Not anymore.”
I stopped my horse and glanced behind me to make sure Starkmann and Cooper were still close behind. They were. I dropped off, reaching for my iron and moving deeper into the fog.

“The hell are you doing?” Cooper demanded.
“Shh. We’ll be quieter on foot.” I replied. In the fog behind me, I saw Cooper starting to dismount his horse. Thankfully the man had seen my point. I figured Starkmann was likely right behind him.
I moved deeper into the abandoned town. There was no sound, no birds. Nothing at all. The silence was deafening.

“The hell happened here?” I heard Starkmann murmur, “Place feels like a goddamn graveyard…”
“Could be Jonsey and his friends have already moved on.” Cooper said, “God damn… If we’ve missed them…”

“Hello?”

A voice called out through the fog in front of us, and the three of us froze. Cooper went for his six-gun and aimed it into the blank white ahead. It took me a few seconds to see what he saw. The shape of a man coming closer through the fog. The shape stopped, dead in its tracks.
“Hector? That you?”
“Guess I spoke too soon…” Cooper murmured and thought for a moment before calling out.
“It’s Hector!”
Both Starkmann and I glanced at him, no doubt wondering what the hell he was thinking when the voice replied.
“The hell are you doing out in the mist, Hector? C’mon back!”
Evidently, we were dealing with some sort of moron.

With his gun still drawn, Cooper walked towards the stranger in the mist as if there wasn’t a problem in the world. The poor dumb fool probably couldn’t get a clear look at his face in the fog and by the time he did, he didn’t even get to let off a scream before Cooper had knocked him into the dirt. Starkmann and I flanked him, as Cooper dragged our new, dumb friend through the dirt and slammed him up against the ruins of a building. Our new friend was just a boy, no older than 16 with bright red hair and eyes wide like a gutted deer. Cooper kept a hand over his mouth and put the barrel of his gun up against the bottom of his jaw.

“You scream and I’ll blow your head clean off, boy.” He warned. “Do I make myself explicitly clear?”
The boy tried to nod and Cooper slammed him against the wall.
“I said am I clear!”
This time, the boy made a little more effort and Cooper took his hand away.
“Daniel Jones. Where is he?” He growled.
“C-Church… Him and Kennard…” The boy stammered.
“Kennard?” Cooper asked, “That the woman’s name?”
“Y-yeah. Kennard! Primrose Kennard! Jonsey brought her down from somewhere. Mississippi, Missouri? I-I don’t remember!”
Cooper studied the boy for a moment, before forcefully turning him around.

“Roy, get some rope from my horse and help me truss up this little shit.”
I got up to head back to the horses when I heard another voice from the fog, from the direction we’d come from.
“Henry? You there?”
“HECTO-” The boy tried to scream but Cooper covered his mouth again.

“Get rid of that one. Quiet.” He whispered to me. I gave a half nod before pulling my hunting knife from my belt. I could see the shape of a man approaching our horses. I was sure he had a gun drawn, so I ducked behind one of the old houses, and circled around it.

“Henry?” Hector called again, just as I’d rounded the house and came out right behind him. If he heard me coming, he didn’t have time to stop me before I was behind him, with my knife in his throat. The moment happened quickly. One minute, I was behind him and he was alive, the next he was bleeding out in my arms, no different than the animals I’d hunted. I’d killed a man before… But it’d been so long that I couldn’t help but pause as I ended that stranger's life. It felt… Odd. Wrong. But the deed was done. I let the body drop. Hector hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, choking on his own blood as he did. I tried not to dwell on that. I backed up towards Cooper's horse and grabbed the rope.

The boy, Henry I suppose his name was, was dead still by the time I returned to him and Cooper. No doubt he’d seen me waste his friend.
“You count yourself lucky I’m a softie, kid,” Cooper said as he bound his wrists. “Now if you’ll be so obliged, where’s the Church?”
“U-up the road… J-just up the road. You can’t miss it, mister!” The boy stammered, “Please… I don’t wanna die…”

Cooper just cracked a smile.
“Well ain’t really got room for prisoners. But hell if I’m just gonna kill some kid whose balls ain’t even dropped yet… Oh no. You’re comin’ back to Texas with us.” With that, he jammed a rag into Henry's mouth and left him on the ground. Starkmann regarded him quietly before heading up the road, through the fog, and towards the Church.

We heard the voices as we got closer, a man's distant screams. I could see Starkmann picking up his pace, and knew he recognized that voice. Through the fog, I could see the church. It was old, its paint was chipped and worn. It had seen better days but was still intact.

Cooper raced past me and put a firm hand on Starkmann’s shoulder as he neared the door, pulling him back. He glanced back at the Marshal with rage in his eyes, although relented quickly.
“Look first. Shoot second.” Cooper whispered. He gestured to the door and we quietly drew nearer. The doors were open, just enough for us to see inside and as we got closer I heard a woman's voice speaking.

“Be honored, your Excellency… Very few are given the chance to serve the True Gods. Your life is in servitude to a higher purpose. That, I promise you…”

The Church was well lit with oil lamps along the walls. I peered through the broken door and spotted a man, dressed in the dirty robes of a bishop on his knees before the altar. No doubt, this was Strickland. Just a few feet away from him I spotted a figure I recognized as old Jonsey. He’d grown huskier in the years since I’d last seen him but I knew his face all too well.

Yet the star of the show was the woman… Primrose Kennard, she’d been called. I hadn’t quite known what to expect, but she both lived up to and defied my expectations. She was tall, and lovely with pitch-black hair that fell to her shoulders. She had a slight baby's face, yet that only seemed to add to her loveliness. She wore no guns, and yet something about her still sent a cold chill through me. In one hand, she carried a bone knife and held it to the Bishop's throat.

“Don’t be afraid…” She crooned, cradling his face like a lover. “I won’t make you face It again…” Her thumbs ran gently over his cheeks, she smiled sweetly at him as she bent down to kiss his forehead.
“No… You’re not meant for Shaal, Bishop… You’re here to show me the way…”
I saw the knife dip lower, moving towards the Bishop's throat and I knew that whatever she’d been building up to, she was about to do it.

“You drop that knife, Woman!” I heard Starkmann yell. He pushed past us and threw open the door, aiming his gun right at that woman's heart. Kennard pulled back, eyes wide in surprise at first, before her lips curled into a smile.
“Well, well… We have visitors!” She crooned.

Besides Starkmann, Cooper and I entered the Church as well. His gun was trained on Jones, as was mine. Jones stood protectively before Starkmann, and I felt his eyes on me.
“Roy Wilson…” He said, his voice lower and gruffer than before, “Well I’ll be… Is that you?”
“Been too long Jonsey.” I replied coldly, “I thought you hung ten years back.”
“Almost.” He replied, “No thanks to you. You a Marshal now?”
“No, but I’ll put you in the ground all the same.”
Jonesy’s crooked smile widened, exposing yellowed teeth.
“Good luck to you…” He glanced back at Kennard, who still clutched her knife tightly, before going for his guns.

I couldn’t tell you who shot first, myself, Cooper, or Starkmann. What I know for sure is that we filled that sonofabitch with enough lead to kill him five times over, and he didn’t so much as fucking flinch. Jonsey drew his iron as if we hadn’t even shot at us. His first three shots struck the walls. I scrambled for cover behind a pew. From the corner of my eye, I saw Cooper doing the same on the opposite side of the chapel. Jonsey kept a gun aimed at each of us, although when he saw Starkmann try to make a run from the door to the altar, he forgot about us. He fired twice before Starkmann dove low and Cooper took advantage of his lapse in judgment to take a shot at him. I saw his muzzle flash and I saw part of Jonsey’s skull shatter. I swear I saw bits of his brain dribbling down the side of his head but that bastard still stood tall, shooting back like he had all day and laughing quietly all the while.

Behind him, I watched as Kennard seized the Bishop by the hair. Starkmann had tried to get up to make another run for him but Jonsey shot just above his head as soon as he saw him trying to poke it out.

None of us could’ve saved Bishop Strickland. Not even if we’d wanted to. Kennard drew the knife violently across his throat, damn near taking his head off. Then, with the bloodied knife still in hand, she turned towards the altar, almost oblivious to the carnage behind her.
“Ancient Guardian, I beg of thee… With sacred blood, on the sacred ground I invoke thee… Grant me an audience in exchange for this holy life…”
She drove the knife into the wooden altar, and I felt the ground itself quake.

The world around us seemed to dim into a blackness darker than even the nighttime. Jonsey paused, looking back with what was left of his skull at Kennard who stood triumphantly before the altar. I saw my shot, and I took it. I’d never killed a woman before, much less shot one in the back but given the circumstances, I wouldn’t have lost any sleep.

I know my aim was true. The bullet should’ve hit her dead on. Instead, I felt a pain in my shoulder, like someone had just slugged me hard. For the first couple of seconds, it hardly registered as painful… But then it started to burn. I saw a blood-red stain blooming on my shoulder. The gun fell from my hand and looking at Kennard, I saw her smiling at me and I knew that somehow, she’d done this to me. I collapsed back down behind the pew as a great shadow grew from the darkness before her.

I clutched at my new bullet wound, trying as best I could to stop the bleeding. Jonsey still stood in the aisle of the chapel, keeping close to Kennard and trading bullets with Cooper. For a moment, I was sure that he’d been the one who’d shot me, but I was sure he hadn’t so much as looked my way when I’d shot at Kennard. From the corner of my eye, I saw Starkmann pop out from cover to take a few more shots at Jonesy. I can’t say why he bothered, the bastard remained as unflinching as ever. Even with half his skull blown away he hardly seemed to give a damn. He looked back towards Kennard, and watched as the darkness before her grew larger. I saw a shape inside of it, something tall and looming. Its limbs seemed thin, like bones but I could’ve sworn they had a texture like wood. I saw what looked to be a bare human skull looking down at her, and yet a pair of beady eyes lurked deep within their sockets. The entity that had answered Kennard's summons spoke in a deep, rumbling voice although I couldn’t make out the words over the gunfire.

I saw Starkmann crawling behind the same pew Cooper was behind, having given up his mission to save the Bishop. Blood dripped from a fresh gash in his temple where he’d been grazed.
“Not a bad effort, but y’all won’t be killing me today…” I heard Jonsey say, his voice thick and wet. “Miss Kennard’s made some… Modifications… That’s her specialty, see?”
I could hear his heavy footsteps drawing nearer to us.
“Maybe when I’m done with you boys, she might find somethin’ she can salvage… Eyes, guts, bones… I suppose I could use a new skull…” He chuckled deeply.

From behind his pew, Cooper glanced over at me and I saw real hopelessness in his eyes. We were cooked and we all knew it. Jonsey was just coming to finish the job. I spotted my gun on the floor near me and grabbed at it. I knew it was almost surely suicide, but I had one idea that just might work.

I dove out from behind the pew and unloaded my pistol into Jonsey’s legs. I aimed for the knee, and I saw the blood spatter against the pews. Just as I’d hoped, the bastard’s newly busted legs couldn’t support him. I saw the panic in his one good eye before he went down. He braced himself against the pews to try and avoid collapsing outright, and that gave us the window I needed.

With my last shot, I took aim at one of the oil lamps on the walls. Fire had killed the thing at the ranch, maybe it might kill Jonesy too. The least it could do was cover our escape. Flames erupted from the broken lamp, quickly catching on the old pews. That Church was likely gonna be an inferno in a few minutes, and I didn’t want to stick around to see for sure.

“Move!” I yelled, before bolting towards the Church door. Cooper and Starkmann both took the hint. They followed me to the door. Starkmann paused for only a moment to take a parting shot at Jonsey’s head. But I didn’t get to see if it made any difference. Clutching my bleeding shoulder, I sprinted through the fog, almost falling once or twice. I didn’t stop until I saw the horses.

“C’mon! Move your asses!” I yelled. Looking back again, I saw Starkmann coming up behind me. Cooper had stopped to grab that goddamn boy we’d left trussed up. If I’d had time, I would’ve cursed him out for it. With Starkmanns help, I was able to get up on my horse. Through the fog, I could see the Church burning, and yet I had a sick feeling in my stomach that our troubles were far from over.

We hadn’t won. We just hadn’t died.

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