"When the west was weird…or: Where the Jackalope roam”
Night in the desert; the temperature drops and the air grows still. The sky is cloudless and the stars shine brightly. The gully marked where water had run during rainy times. The ground is rocky, the stones smeared with dried blood.
Ghost Rider, all clad in white, his short cape replaced by a white duster coat. One gloved hand held the reins and lead his horse, Phantom, while in the other he held a bone-white six shooter. He made his way along the gully. Reaching the blood- stained rocks, he let go of the reins. After several minutes spent listening to the night and letting his horse sniff the ground and air, both decided it was safe and the spectral cowboy holstered his gun and knelt down.
He ran a gloved finger across one bloodstain. He then rubbed his fingers together.
Scanning the surrounding ground, he picked up a small, bloodstained stone and a tuft of coarse hair and tucked both into a pouch on his gun belt and then stood up.
He rubbed at his chin in thought, before walking back to where Phantom had retreated.
“Yeah, there’s something wrong here,” he said, patting the ghostly horse’s nose. “I feel it too.”
# # # # #
Hope, New Mexico was a mid-sized town. It was in a way two towns, the town proper and the nearby native-American Reservation. They formed a sort of barbell, the two towns with a connecting road between them, then the surrounding desert, veined with roads, both highway and rough, dirt tracks.
Sheriff Ernst ‘don’t call me Ernie’ Vasquez, a stocky, middle-aged Hispanic man with a neatly trimmed mustache, as midnight black as his hair, was sitting at a back booth in the diner that served as his ‘auxiliary office’.
He had a cup of coffee, a BLT and a pile of paperwork. He frowned; realizing his coffee cup was empty, while the pile of paperwork didn’t seem to be getting any smaller. The Sheriff looked up, hoping to catch the waitress’ attention and spotted Hamilton Slade entering the diner.
The older archeologist ambled through the room, nodding to a few acquaintances and signaling to the girl at the counter that he’d be joining the Sheriff and would like some coffee.
“Morning,” he said, as he slid into the booth.
Vasquez nodded in reply, waiting for the waitress to leave before starting any conversation. Hamilton was known around town as a friend to the sheriff, as well as being a bit of an unofficial liaison between the town and the local tribe.
What was less known, was that Hamilton Slade also acted as a consultant on police matters that bordered on the supernatural.
Vasquez had most likely heard the rumors about a ghostly cowboy that rode the desert, but had not connected it with his friend.
“What’d you find?” The Sheriff asked.
“Very strange,” Hamilton shrugged. “All the blood the victims?”
“Far as we can tell. We sent samples to the capitol, be at least a week before we get results back.”
“What do you think?” Hamilton asked, sipping his coffee. “What’s your best guess?”
“I’ve got about twenty ‘best guesses’.” Vasquez replied, frowning. “I’ve got gangs out there running guns, illegals and drugs. Gangs on the Rez, gangs coming in from Mexico, as well as Texas. I’ve got rumors of A.I.M setting up a lab somewhere and then there’s a dozen ghost stories, rumors and legends…”
Hamilton nodded in sympathy and set down his cup.
“All the sites like that one?”
“Pretty much. This was the only one with no survivors. Not much in the way of a pattern…basically anyone unlucky enough to be out in the desert after dark. Any help you can give me, Slade?”
“Don’t know,” He replied, frowning in thought. “I’m probably going to have a look at one of the other sites but right now your mystery attacker could be anything; gangs, a serial killer, maybe a super villain or some local monster?”
“Great, I’ll put an A.P.B. out for either Electro or a jackalope!” Vasquez grumbled.
“The attacks are particularly unpleasant, but I’m thinking the answer is more likely men rather than monsters.” Slade said, not sure how comforting that information was.
“Hope so,” The Sheriff said. “But, in the meantime, I’ve got reporters starting to show up, as well as the Feds…Christ, what a mess!”
“Sorry,” Slade said, finishing off his coffee and then getting up. “If I find anything else, I’ll let you know. I can get word to the Rangers, if you think…?”
“Yeah, because bringing in super heroes always makes a situation less complicated!” Vasquez said, with a grim smile.
Once outside the diner, Hamilton Slade paused, peering up at the sky in thought. He reached into the pocket of his work shirt, feeling the small plastic bag containing the tuft of hair he’d found at the crime scene.
“Gonna be a busy night,” He muttered.
# # # # #
After dark, the middle-aged archeologist drove his pickup truck out into the desert.
He wasn’t alone long, as his horse soon came galloping out of the night.
He quickly mounted the white horse, transforming into Ghost Rider as soon as he was in the saddle.
They rode across desert, silent as the wind, for several miles, eventually reaching another of the strange crime scenes. It was a sandy, hilly area, not big hills, more like a gentle ocean, made of sand and stone.
Past a cluster of cacti, was a dip in the land, and within it was dried blood, scraps of cloth, a few broken bottles and rocks.
The Ghost Rider knelt down. He moved a football-sized stone, and discovered what appeared to be marks, gouges that might have been caused by a pair of blades or claws.
“Hmm, that’s troubling,” he muttered to himself, straightening up. He walked back the rise, where Phantom waited. He and the horse locked gazes for a second and then with a smooth, quick motion the supernatural hero had his guns drawn and pointed at the nearby by cacti.
“If you don’t come out, I’m going to assume you mean me harm,” He announced, his voice taking on a grim, echoing quality. He then very obviously cocked his six-shooters.
“Don’t shoot!” A voice replied. “I’m coming out! I’m not armed…you…!”
“You,” Ghost Rider replied, lowering his guns. “Thought that perfume smelt familiar…just couldn’t place it.”
Kelsey Walsh stepped out of the shadows her hands raised, recognized the masked cowboy, and lowered her arms, her fear turning to mild annoyance.
“What? Are you guys following me?” the lady reporter asked.
“I could ask the same question,” Ghost Rider replied. He holstered one of his guns, keeping the other at hand.
“You think I’m following you guys around? It’s your fault I’m out here!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wrote up the story of what happened to that town,” Kelsey explained. “My editor loved the stuff about Roxxon’s shady mining stunt, Roxxon’s lawyers didn’t. So, I’ve extended my little road trip until the heat dies down. I heard about these attacks and came out to investigate. What about you?”
“I’m friends with the Sheriff in Hope,” Ghost Rider explained. “He asked my advice and I decided to investigate. Something about them isn’t right…”
“No kidding?” Kelsey said. “Six people attacked, only two survivors and those two in no shape to talk to anybody. Your Sheriff has got a clamp on the two survivors like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Not that it’s helping, but he’s trying to prevent rumors or panic.” Ghost Rider explained, holstering his gun. “The more I see the more I doubt any of this was gang related. We can talk about it on the way back to town…”
He took a couple steps and took Kelsey by the arm. She quickly and emphatically shook him off.
“We are not doing this again!” Kelsey snapped, crossing her arms and scowling. “I’m not a damsel. I was chasing stories way before you and the wheelie bunch came into my life…”
Ghost Rider was about to respond, when something bumped his shoulder. He turned reaching for his holster only to discover it was his horse.
“What’s up, Phantom?” he asked, concerned, placing a gloved hand on the white horse’s nose.
Phantom snorted and shook his head, before turning and walking away from the bloody stones.
Frowning in thought, Ghost Rider followed.
“You won’t listen to me,” Kelsey muttered. “But the horse has your complete attention?”
The trio trudged up the sandy rise and found them staring across at a rolling, sandy expanse.
“What are we looking at?” Kelsey asked, her annoyance fading and taking on a hushed tone.
“Phantom smells something…something wrong,” Ghost Rider said, in a low tone.
“And I agree with him, this is not drug dealers.”
“You trying to say it’s a something, not a someone?” Kelsey asked.
“Possibly.” Ghost Rider shrugged, watching as his horse prowled around, conducting its own investigation.
“So, it’s a monster? People are being attacked by a…um…a Wendigo…no, wait, that’s Canada…a jackalope?” She muttered.
“No, it’s not a jackalope,” the masked cowboy told her. “First, they aren’t real, they are fairy tale creatures. Second, even in the stories about them, they do not go around killing people. They are rabbits that act like the Greek Sirens, luring people lost in the desert to their doom. Whatever is out here is a predator.”
“Lord, you do babble,” Kelsey muttered. “Remind me of that professor I interviewed…Sutton…somebody. So okay, not killer bunnies, just devious bunnies. So, what is it? Monster? Super villain?”
“I don’t know,” Ghost Rider replied, “But, it’s somewhere behind us…don’t turn around.”
“What are you talking about?” Kelsey asked, a slight tremble creeping into her voice. “How do you know that?”
“Several centuries of Riders swirling around up here,” he explained, tapping his temple. “Phantom has followed the faint trail…there’s something down there, some kind of lair or nest, but whatever lives there has now crept around and behind us.”
“What do we do?” Kelsey asked, tensing up.
“We don’t let it know, we know it’s there,” Ghost Rider told her, pointing off into the distance. “If it thinks we’re just looking around, it may just stalk us. So, for a couple minutes we act like we are heading that way and completely oblivious it’s behind us.”
“And…?” Kelsey nodded, trying to keep up the pretense that they were having a general conversation, rather than being concerned with imminent attack.
“And we head thataway,” Ghost Rider told her, striding forward. “If it leaves us alone, we may get a look at its lair and be able to figure out what it is or it will decide this big stretch area is the perfect place for an attack…either way, we’ll find out what we are up against….”
“Is that supposed to sound at all comforting?” Kelsey asked,
“You wanted to come along.”
One hand rested on the butt of his gun as they made their way across the desert. The ghostly horse was several yards ahead of them and was soon lost to sight.
Ghost Rider moved along, slow and steady. Kelsey, trying to look casual, stayed close, practically clinging onto his cape.
“See those three stones…?’ He asked.
“What? By the little…bit where the ground dips…?” Kelsey asked, anxious and slightly bewildered.
“Yes, run for them. Phantom will be there. He’ll keep you safe.”
“What?”
“Go!”
Ghost Rider pushed her away, as he spun, his free hand going for his six-shooter.
Kelsey heard a sound, something between a squeak and a growl and caught a blur of moving shadow.
Ghost Rider fanned his gun sending a swarm of ghostly, illuminated bullets at their attacker. The flashes briefly lit up the desert night, revealing brief glimpses of a large, misshapen form, more animal than man.
It leapt past Ghost Rider, claws like knives, missing his body by a hair’s breath, the force of the creature’s passing fluttering his white cape.
It landed with an ungraceful thud, skidding in the desert sand, than bolting off into the night. As its path veered towards Kelsey’s hiding place Phantom lunged at it, rising up, hooves flailing.
The creature stumbled, changed course and growling mournfully, was soon lost in the night.
Ghost Rider jogged over to his companions. Guns out, he went to a ridge and peered out, hoping to spot a hint of the creature’s retreat.
Kelsey hesitantly moved to join him.
“It’s a monster!” She breathed, anxiously. “I know I said…but, I didn’t think…are you okay?”
Ghost Rider followed her gaze to the slashed corner of his cape.
“Fine.” He glanced over his shoulder, and noticed his horse limping towards them. He quickly holstered his guns, and moved to inspect the animal’s injury.
He knelt down, running gloved fingers across a trio of shallow cuts across its foreleg.
“Not as lucky as I was, huh, fellow?” he muttered.
Kelsey hung back, having lost some of her adventuresome spirit in the wake of the creature’s attack and Phantom’s injury. She tended to treat the horse like Ghost Rider’s pet, but having it rushing forward willing to risk itself, to protect her, had affected her more than she’d expected.
Phantom raised his head and for a moment the horse and the young woman’s eyes met. Kelsey felt herself being drawn into those ancient white eyes and took a sharp breath, as she was struck that there was a depth, a wisdom, in those eyes. Phantom was not just a pet or mere transportation for the ghostly super hero. Phantom was a partner, and perhaps even more, then Kelsey could understand.
She walked hesitantly up to the horse and, humbly, offered her hand.
“Thank you,” She said, quietly.
Phantom gave a low neigh and nuzzled her palm with his nose.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Ghost Rider said, standing up and dusting off his hands. He looked around, wither oblivious to what had occurred between his steed and Kelsey, or deciding to focus on the task at hand was unclear. “Got a couple questioned answered, but at the same time, I’ve got a new list.”
“What now?” Kelsey asked.
“We follow it,” Ghost Rider replied, walking back to the ridge where they last saw their attacker. “We know it’s an animal, not just some drug gang or super-villain and now it’s wounded and scared.”
Reaching the ridge, he pointed at the ground and Kelsey squinted, catching droplets of a strangely colored liquid on the ground.
“Blood…?” She asked.
Ghost Rider nodded.
“Of some kind,” He replied. “It’s hurt and heading somewhere…”
He gestured toward the left.
“It heads that way,” He said. “ It’ll hit the Rez in about five miles. If he turns off to the west, that’s where the old military base was…couple ranches that were abandoned when they did atomic testing in the 60’s…”
“So, it’ll either run into the middle of a populated area,” Kelsey nodded. “Or we follow him into a place with a million hiding places…those are our choices?”
“Yeah. Ready to go?”
“Uh…I guess.” She replied, surprised at the lack of attempt to send her away again.
“Good, get on Phantom.”
“I can walk.”
“We aren’t debating anymore,” Ghost Rider said. “Phantom can protect you or get you to safety if things go wrong. It is how we are doing this. Now, get on the damn horse.”
Kelsey nodded, and did as she was told.
Horse, rider and the ghostly cowboy walked along, following the meager traces of their quarry, droplets of blood, a vague footprint or strands of coarse hair.
The night and the desert flowed past them and Kelsey soon lost all sense of how far they’d gone or what time it was. She felt herself slumping in the saddle and her eyelids growing heavy. Phantom had not been moving at a fast pace, but when he stopped, it startled her awake.
“What…?” She asked, disoriented.
“Shhh,” Ghost Rider said, touching her leg. “Stay here.”
He then melted into the shadows, leaving Kelsey to worry and wonder if he had been talking to her or the horse.
She spent several minutes, imagining which rock or dune the creature would leap out from behind and attack her from, before Ghost Rider was suddenly back at her side. He reached out a hand to help her down and then silently lead her to a clump of brush and rocks.
The pair knelt down and peered down, the low, rolling hill of sand and gravel.
“Down there,” Ghost Rider said, in a hushed tone. “The remains of some old buildings. It’s hunkered down there.”
“What now?” Kelsey asked.
“Nothing to do, but have a look,” He shrugged, getting to his feet.
They made their way, slowly, carefully down the slope, trying to keep to the little bit of cover available.
Spread before them was the crumbled remains of several concrete buildings. No wall left standing was taller than waist high. The ground was strewn with twisted lengths of rusted metal, broken glass and rotted wood.
“Could this look any more like the set of a horror movie…?” Kelsey muttered.
“I think if we circle around…” Ghost Rider muttered.
“We are not playing ‘hide and seek’ all night,” Kelsey said, stepping forward, and reaching down. She picked up a fist-sized rock and hurled it at a length of sheet metal. It rang like a gong, the rock then bounced off, bouncing a couple times.
“That’s your plan?” Ghost Rider muttered, drawing his six-shooters and sliding into a defensive stance.
Several tense seconds passed, with the only sound being a faint rustling that could have been movement amongst the ruins or merely rocks dislodged by the stone Kelsey tossed.
She was a feeling a bit chagrined that her plan was a bit silly and had proven to be pointless, when the ground several feet in front of them erupted and a massive, bestial form leapt out.
Kelsey was almost relieved that things were so chaotic, so there was no chance anyone would notice that she screamed ‘like a girl’.
She stumbled back a few steps, until her back bumped against Phantom’s shoulder.
The monster was some kind of animal, standing tall as the Ghost Rider, its fur was coarse and an ugly grey-green. Its eyes were large, round and nicotine yellow with a tiny, black dot of an iris. Its already intimidating height was increased by its ears, large and floppy, but when erect added another foot to its height. It also sported tiny nubs of horn on its forehead.
“Goddamn,” Ghost Rider muttered, firing his six-shooters. “A jackalope…”
Anticipating a future ‘I told you so’ from the young reporter was a further distraction, keeping him focused and pushing back any anxiety he might have felt over the monster’s attack.
His first few shots were at the ground in front of the creature. The supernatural hero wanted to contain the Jackalope and gain a chance to figure out what it was.
The creature skidded to a halt, glaring at the hero, its’ breathing raspy and labored. It dodged to the side and then leapt again at Ghost Rider, its arms reaching for him, blunt yellow claws extended.
Ghost Rider fired off two shots, one clipped an over-sized ear, and the other creased the back of one paw.
Unfortunately, its other paw was still strong enough to catch Ghost Rider across the temple and stagger him.
He managed to hold on to one of his pistols, but his hat went flying.
Phantom lunged in between the two, rearing up, his flailing hooves driving the creature back. Ghost Rider went intangible, dove through his horse, twirled his gun and brought the butt down on the bridge of the jackalope’s nose.
“Stay down and we can talk instead of having to kill each other,” He intoned. “No one else needs to be hurt.”
The creature flailed its paws and hissed at the masked gunfighter, its’ wounds dripping black blood and spitting strings of nicotine-colored mucus.
It lunged forward and both horse and hero went intangible.
Ghost Rider went solid again, once the beast had passed and grabbed hold of an over-sized ear and yanked the jackalope back harshly.
“I am sorry,” He intoned, as he pressed his six-shooter against its chest and shot the creature through the heart.
It twitched, gasped, and then collapsed like a sack of wet cement.
“What…?!” Kelsey exclaimed, racing up to Ghost Rider and the fallen monster. “You killed it!”
“No,” Ghost Rider told her, crouching down to retrieve his gun and hat. “Magic bullets. They can scorch your soul or raise hell with your nervous system.”
“I’m guessing its not contemplating its sins…?”
Kelsey suggested, peering in curiosity at the large, misshapen creature, but having seen too many horror movies to get close to it.
“So, what now?” She asked.
“Still working on that,” Ghost Rider muttered, looking from the jackalope to the ruined buildings downs the ridge. “It came from down there, but is it the only one?”
“What?” Kelsey said, realizing she kept starting every sentence with ‘what?’. “You think there’s a…nest or something?”
“No idea,” Ghost Rider replied. “But, we need to find out…make some sense of all this. “
He started down the ridge, moving slow on the sandy slope. Kelsey moved to follow, stumbled and almost collided with Ghost Rider when he abruptly stopped.
“Phantom!” He called up. “Stay alert!”
Annoyed that the horse was trusted with more responsibility than her, Kelsey moved past the ghostly cowboy and down to the ruins.
Kelsey used the toe of her boot to push aside a few pieces of rubble, making a path for herself.
Ghost Rider caught up with her and followed close behind her, once again, guns drawn.
“This place looks more like a lab or military base than a town,” He muttered, glancing around.
“Makes sense,” Kelsey said, pulling up a strand of barbed wire so she could duck underneath it and keep going. “I know I’m an amateur at this stuff, but there didn’t seem to be anything supernatural about our jackalope.”
“It is not a…never mind,” Ghost Rider said, not looking at her, but a pile of broken concrete and twisted steel beams. “You’re likely right. This monster seems to have been birthed by science, not magic. That looks like a likely lair for it.”
Kelsey nodded, and leaned down to shift some rocks.
Shifting one rock freed up some twisted metal fencing, one of the sharp bits catching on her pant leg. She pulled herself free, then frowned down at a piece of bent metal attached to the section of fence.
“Look at this…!” She breathed, standing up.
Ghost Rider moved away from the potential monster’s nest and joined her.
She struggled to straighten the flat piece of metal. It was coated with dirt and rust, but they could make out some printing on it. Kelsey held up her phone and thumbed the flashlight app.
“No tres…trespassing,” She read. “Amma lase…?”
“It’s a ‘b’,” Ghost Rider told her. “I think we are standing in what’s left of the original Gamma Base…”
“The place where the Hulk came from…?!” Kelsey exclaimed, dropping the sign and anxiously scanning their surroundings with her light, as though just saying his name would cause the gamma-spawned titan to magically appear. “That means…”
“That it’s not a jackalope,” Ghost Rider said, holstering one of his guns and gently taking her wrist to stop her flashing her light all over the place. “But rather some kind of mutated rabbit or other desert animal.”
He sighed, looked around at the wreckage that was all that remained of the birthplace of one of the most powerful beings to walk the planet and then back up the slope, where his horse and the fallen monster were.
“Thing’s probably the only one of its kind,” He said, quietly. “And has no idea what the hell to do, but desperate to survive.”
“This has happened before, hasn’t it?” Kelsey asked, catching the weary tone in his voice.
“Yeah. Not for a long while, but I and other members of the Rangers have crossed path with local monsters that turned out to be leftovers from the gamma bomb tests. Hasn’t been one in years. We need to get that thing some help…”
“Help? It’s a monster!” Kelsey protested.
“It’s a scared animal,” Ghost Rider told her, holstering his other gun. “Most of the other creatures were riddled with cancer and birth defects that made just being alive painful for them. They aren’t evil. They are scared and hurt and unable to understand what’s happening. Come on.”
He trudged back up the slope. Kelsey gave a last look at the rubble, then jogged to catch up with him.
About three quarters of the way up, Phantom gave a whiney and a snort, and Ghost Rider stopped, putting out a hand to stop Kelsey as well.
“What’s up?”
“Not sure,” He muttered in reply. “Phantom’s caught the scent of…something.”
“The jackalope woke up?”
“No. What’s making him nervous is he doesn’t want stop keeping an eye on it to investigate. If it isn’t one thing…”
They reached the top of the ridge, to find the anxious ghost horse, pacing back and forth near the fallen creature, all the while glancing around into the surrounding shadows.
Ghost Rider went to the horse and calmed it with a hand on its neck. He glanced down at the mutated animal and saw that its’ breathing was coming in heavy, rapid bursts. Not healthy sounding, but not likely it would be doing any rampaging in the near future.
Kelsey peered down at the jackalope and then out into the night.
“I can’t tell what’s just nighttime noise and what should be worrying me,” She shrugged.
“Don’t know,” Ghost Rider replied, shifting his shoulders, as though bothered by an itch between his shoulder blades. “Phantom generally knows what he’s talking about…something doesn’t feel right…”
Suddenly, lights flared up around them, blinding all three and causing the jackalope to twitch and its eyelids to flutter.
“Freeze!” a voice announced. “You are trespassing on Federal property!”
“Seriously…?” Kelsey muttered, glancing back at the decades old ruins.
“Vasquez said something about the feds taking an interest,” Ghost Rider replied, quietly.
A half dozen figures stepped out in front of the lights. They wore the distinctive blue uniforms of agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
“Well, that can’t be good,” Kelsey added.
Ghost Rider stood still, his hands on his hips.
One figure, a broad-shouldered blonde man stepped forward.
“I am Commander Daniel Tate. You are trespassing on a crime scene…”
“An unmarked crime scene on public land?” Kelsey protested.
“You’ll find…” The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent began.
“State your case, Commander,” Ghost Rider intoned, grimly.
“You will surrender yourselves and the animal immediately…”
“No.” Ghost Rider interrupted. “You will not be dictating terms. We are not children nor are we criminals and this animal is under our care…”
“It is…?” Kelsey breathed.
Ghost Rider ignored her, focusing his gaze on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Commander.
She couldn’t make out the S.H.I.E.L.D. man’s expression, because of the lights, but she could almost feel the waves of confusion and rising anger coming off him, as this whole scenario had gone fully off script on him.
“What makes you think you have any leverage in this situation?” The S.H.I.E.L.D. man asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“I am an immortal agent of vengeance,” Ghost Rider solemnly stated, drawing his six guns faster than the eye could follow. “And I am a very good shot.”
Kelsey’s eyes went wide, as she could plainly hear the safeties coming off a half dozen weapons behind the lights.
“Do you really think you can drop all of us?” Tate asked, with grim smugness.
“I don’t have to be able to shoot all your men,” Ghost Rider replied. “I just have to shoot you.
“Uhh…?” Was as far as Kelsey got.
Several of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stepped forward.
“Hold it!” Tate snapped over his shoulder to his men. He then glanced back at the masked cowboy. “This is ridiculous, my men will cut you down after your first shot….”
“At which point they will discover that the word ‘ghost’ is not in my name, merely because I thought it sounded good. And you’ll still be dead. I am not concerned about dealing with your men. I am dealing with you. You are the one in charge.”
That was the moment that both Kelsey and Tate realized that Ghost Rider’s guns were pointed squarely at him.
“You are in command,” Ghost Rider continued. “You are the one who decides how we continue. How does this end?”
Several very tense seconds passed.
“It doesn’t have to go this way,” Tate said, in what he hoped was a soothing tone.
“That is true.” The phantom cowboy nodded. “If you wish to proceed without weapons, all you and your men need to do is lower yours and I will follow suit.”
“Commander…?” One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. troopers muttered. “We can…”
“Yes, we can,” Tate said, quietly. “But, just this once, we won’t…stand down.”
“Commander…?” An Asian woman began to protest.
“Stand down!” Tate snapped, glaring at his group. “Amherst, hold this position.”
He holstered his pistol and strode towards the strange quartet.
As he did, Ghost Rider holstered his own weapons, signaled for Phantom to stand guard over the senseless jackalope and then crossed his arms.
Kelsey stepped forward to stand beside Ghost Rider, in the hopes that it made her look less damsel-ish and more like an equal partner.
“You have two minutes to convince me,” Tate said, stopping a few feet from the duo. His hand rested on the butt of his gun.
“This creature is a danger, to itself and the surrounding community,” Ghost Rider explained, in a calm, even tone. “It needs to be taken some place where people are safe from it, but also where it is safe from people and has a chance to live out its life peaceably. I will not allow it to be treated as a specimen or as the building blocks to create more of its kind.”
“So, you just want to dictate terms, is that it?”
“If you can accomplish that,” Ghost Rider continued as though the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent hadn’t spoken or he and Kelsey weren’t facing half a dozen heavily armed men. “Miss Walsh, as a journalist would be able to assist in writing and distributing whatever cover story you think would best help calm the community…”
“I would, obviously, get byline and first release option, of course,” Kelsey added.
“Obviously,” Tate replied, a corner of his mouth going up.
“And I would be favorably inclined, should your field offices need assistance…” Ghost Rider said. “I have about a century and a half’s experience dealing with unusual threats, as well as contacts in the super hero and supernatural community.
“Interesting,” Tate said, his hand moving away from his gun belt to rub thoughtfully at his chin. “What is this…animal to you…?”
“An innocent caught up in and shaped by forces beyond it’s understanding,” Ghost Rider replied. “Such beings are to be helped, rather than hunted.”
“Well, you and I see the world very differently,” Tate nodded. “But, I think we can come to an…understanding here. I question your methods, but not your intentions. We can see to the…jackalope and then consult with your media liaison on the best way to frame a cover story.”
“That would be satisfactory,” Ghost Rider nodded.
# # # # #
Two days later, matters had been settled, the newspapers and local TV ran the story about rival drug gangs fighting out in the desert and several unfortunate victims caught in the crossfire. The jackalope was given medical attention and the promise of a safe habitat, while Ghost Rider was given the contact information for the S.H.I.E.L.D. department that dealt with supernatural occurrences.
Soon, after a celebratory breakfast at the diner, Hamilton was escorting Kelsey to her much-abused looking car.
“Well, thanks for helping me out,” Kelsey said. “Gotta say, it’s never boring when I bump into you guys.”
“This is true,” Hamilton nodded, as he peered at the debris that filled her car, evidence of her long road trip and questionable housekeeping skills. “Where to now?”
“Made some connections with some local papers and stuff, but a friend of mind on the east coast is doing an on-line start up and I may be able to work something out with him. We’ll see.”
“Well, good luck with…whatever you end up doing.” The older cowboy said, giving her arm a pat. “Do what you can to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. honest and I’m here if you need me.”
The smile she gave him was genuine, as she got into her car. Despite the strange turn her life was taking since meeting the quartet of Ghost Riders, she taken a liking to them.
Hamilton stood, watching the cloud of dust her car kicked up, thoughtfully. “I wonder about that girl,” he said to himself, a look of thoughtful concern crossing his features.
# # # # #
Next issue: Interlude.
The new status quo has been established and now it’s time to start messing with our cast! Dan makes a new friend! Robbie races! Johnny gets a job! And for you action fans, you’ll get to see a Ghost Rider get beaten unmercifully! The last couple pieces fall into place and we head into the big arc: ‘The coming of the seven!’
Ghost Rider, all clad in white, his short cape replaced by a white duster coat. One gloved hand held the reins and lead his horse, Phantom, while in the other he held a bone-white six shooter. He made his way along the gully. Reaching the blood- stained rocks, he let go of the reins. After several minutes spent listening to the night and letting his horse sniff the ground and air, both decided it was safe and the spectral cowboy holstered his gun and knelt down.
He ran a gloved finger across one bloodstain. He then rubbed his fingers together.
Scanning the surrounding ground, he picked up a small, bloodstained stone and a tuft of coarse hair and tucked both into a pouch on his gun belt and then stood up.
He rubbed at his chin in thought, before walking back to where Phantom had retreated.
“Yeah, there’s something wrong here,” he said, patting the ghostly horse’s nose. “I feel it too.”
# # # # #
Hope, New Mexico was a mid-sized town. It was in a way two towns, the town proper and the nearby native-American Reservation. They formed a sort of barbell, the two towns with a connecting road between them, then the surrounding desert, veined with roads, both highway and rough, dirt tracks.
Sheriff Ernst ‘don’t call me Ernie’ Vasquez, a stocky, middle-aged Hispanic man with a neatly trimmed mustache, as midnight black as his hair, was sitting at a back booth in the diner that served as his ‘auxiliary office’.
He had a cup of coffee, a BLT and a pile of paperwork. He frowned; realizing his coffee cup was empty, while the pile of paperwork didn’t seem to be getting any smaller. The Sheriff looked up, hoping to catch the waitress’ attention and spotted Hamilton Slade entering the diner.
The older archeologist ambled through the room, nodding to a few acquaintances and signaling to the girl at the counter that he’d be joining the Sheriff and would like some coffee.
“Morning,” he said, as he slid into the booth.
Vasquez nodded in reply, waiting for the waitress to leave before starting any conversation. Hamilton was known around town as a friend to the sheriff, as well as being a bit of an unofficial liaison between the town and the local tribe.
What was less known, was that Hamilton Slade also acted as a consultant on police matters that bordered on the supernatural.
Vasquez had most likely heard the rumors about a ghostly cowboy that rode the desert, but had not connected it with his friend.
“What’d you find?” The Sheriff asked.
“Very strange,” Hamilton shrugged. “All the blood the victims?”
“Far as we can tell. We sent samples to the capitol, be at least a week before we get results back.”
“What do you think?” Hamilton asked, sipping his coffee. “What’s your best guess?”
“I’ve got about twenty ‘best guesses’.” Vasquez replied, frowning. “I’ve got gangs out there running guns, illegals and drugs. Gangs on the Rez, gangs coming in from Mexico, as well as Texas. I’ve got rumors of A.I.M setting up a lab somewhere and then there’s a dozen ghost stories, rumors and legends…”
Hamilton nodded in sympathy and set down his cup.
“All the sites like that one?”
“Pretty much. This was the only one with no survivors. Not much in the way of a pattern…basically anyone unlucky enough to be out in the desert after dark. Any help you can give me, Slade?”
“Don’t know,” He replied, frowning in thought. “I’m probably going to have a look at one of the other sites but right now your mystery attacker could be anything; gangs, a serial killer, maybe a super villain or some local monster?”
“Great, I’ll put an A.P.B. out for either Electro or a jackalope!” Vasquez grumbled.
“The attacks are particularly unpleasant, but I’m thinking the answer is more likely men rather than monsters.” Slade said, not sure how comforting that information was.
“Hope so,” The Sheriff said. “But, in the meantime, I’ve got reporters starting to show up, as well as the Feds…Christ, what a mess!”
“Sorry,” Slade said, finishing off his coffee and then getting up. “If I find anything else, I’ll let you know. I can get word to the Rangers, if you think…?”
“Yeah, because bringing in super heroes always makes a situation less complicated!” Vasquez said, with a grim smile.
Once outside the diner, Hamilton Slade paused, peering up at the sky in thought. He reached into the pocket of his work shirt, feeling the small plastic bag containing the tuft of hair he’d found at the crime scene.
“Gonna be a busy night,” He muttered.
# # # # #
After dark, the middle-aged archeologist drove his pickup truck out into the desert.
He wasn’t alone long, as his horse soon came galloping out of the night.
He quickly mounted the white horse, transforming into Ghost Rider as soon as he was in the saddle.
They rode across desert, silent as the wind, for several miles, eventually reaching another of the strange crime scenes. It was a sandy, hilly area, not big hills, more like a gentle ocean, made of sand and stone.
Past a cluster of cacti, was a dip in the land, and within it was dried blood, scraps of cloth, a few broken bottles and rocks.
The Ghost Rider knelt down. He moved a football-sized stone, and discovered what appeared to be marks, gouges that might have been caused by a pair of blades or claws.
“Hmm, that’s troubling,” he muttered to himself, straightening up. He walked back the rise, where Phantom waited. He and the horse locked gazes for a second and then with a smooth, quick motion the supernatural hero had his guns drawn and pointed at the nearby by cacti.
“If you don’t come out, I’m going to assume you mean me harm,” He announced, his voice taking on a grim, echoing quality. He then very obviously cocked his six-shooters.
“Don’t shoot!” A voice replied. “I’m coming out! I’m not armed…you…!”
“You,” Ghost Rider replied, lowering his guns. “Thought that perfume smelt familiar…just couldn’t place it.”
Kelsey Walsh stepped out of the shadows her hands raised, recognized the masked cowboy, and lowered her arms, her fear turning to mild annoyance.
“What? Are you guys following me?” the lady reporter asked.
“I could ask the same question,” Ghost Rider replied. He holstered one of his guns, keeping the other at hand.
“You think I’m following you guys around? It’s your fault I’m out here!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wrote up the story of what happened to that town,” Kelsey explained. “My editor loved the stuff about Roxxon’s shady mining stunt, Roxxon’s lawyers didn’t. So, I’ve extended my little road trip until the heat dies down. I heard about these attacks and came out to investigate. What about you?”
“I’m friends with the Sheriff in Hope,” Ghost Rider explained. “He asked my advice and I decided to investigate. Something about them isn’t right…”
“No kidding?” Kelsey said. “Six people attacked, only two survivors and those two in no shape to talk to anybody. Your Sheriff has got a clamp on the two survivors like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Not that it’s helping, but he’s trying to prevent rumors or panic.” Ghost Rider explained, holstering his gun. “The more I see the more I doubt any of this was gang related. We can talk about it on the way back to town…”
He took a couple steps and took Kelsey by the arm. She quickly and emphatically shook him off.
“We are not doing this again!” Kelsey snapped, crossing her arms and scowling. “I’m not a damsel. I was chasing stories way before you and the wheelie bunch came into my life…”
Ghost Rider was about to respond, when something bumped his shoulder. He turned reaching for his holster only to discover it was his horse.
“What’s up, Phantom?” he asked, concerned, placing a gloved hand on the white horse’s nose.
Phantom snorted and shook his head, before turning and walking away from the bloody stones.
Frowning in thought, Ghost Rider followed.
“You won’t listen to me,” Kelsey muttered. “But the horse has your complete attention?”
The trio trudged up the sandy rise and found them staring across at a rolling, sandy expanse.
“What are we looking at?” Kelsey asked, her annoyance fading and taking on a hushed tone.
“Phantom smells something…something wrong,” Ghost Rider said, in a low tone.
“And I agree with him, this is not drug dealers.”
“You trying to say it’s a something, not a someone?” Kelsey asked.
“Possibly.” Ghost Rider shrugged, watching as his horse prowled around, conducting its own investigation.
“So, it’s a monster? People are being attacked by a…um…a Wendigo…no, wait, that’s Canada…a jackalope?” She muttered.
“No, it’s not a jackalope,” the masked cowboy told her. “First, they aren’t real, they are fairy tale creatures. Second, even in the stories about them, they do not go around killing people. They are rabbits that act like the Greek Sirens, luring people lost in the desert to their doom. Whatever is out here is a predator.”
“Lord, you do babble,” Kelsey muttered. “Remind me of that professor I interviewed…Sutton…somebody. So okay, not killer bunnies, just devious bunnies. So, what is it? Monster? Super villain?”
“I don’t know,” Ghost Rider replied, “But, it’s somewhere behind us…don’t turn around.”
“What are you talking about?” Kelsey asked, a slight tremble creeping into her voice. “How do you know that?”
“Several centuries of Riders swirling around up here,” he explained, tapping his temple. “Phantom has followed the faint trail…there’s something down there, some kind of lair or nest, but whatever lives there has now crept around and behind us.”
“What do we do?” Kelsey asked, tensing up.
“We don’t let it know, we know it’s there,” Ghost Rider told her, pointing off into the distance. “If it thinks we’re just looking around, it may just stalk us. So, for a couple minutes we act like we are heading that way and completely oblivious it’s behind us.”
“And…?” Kelsey nodded, trying to keep up the pretense that they were having a general conversation, rather than being concerned with imminent attack.
“And we head thataway,” Ghost Rider told her, striding forward. “If it leaves us alone, we may get a look at its lair and be able to figure out what it is or it will decide this big stretch area is the perfect place for an attack…either way, we’ll find out what we are up against….”
“Is that supposed to sound at all comforting?” Kelsey asked,
“You wanted to come along.”
One hand rested on the butt of his gun as they made their way across the desert. The ghostly horse was several yards ahead of them and was soon lost to sight.
Ghost Rider moved along, slow and steady. Kelsey, trying to look casual, stayed close, practically clinging onto his cape.
“See those three stones…?’ He asked.
“What? By the little…bit where the ground dips…?” Kelsey asked, anxious and slightly bewildered.
“Yes, run for them. Phantom will be there. He’ll keep you safe.”
“What?”
“Go!”
Ghost Rider pushed her away, as he spun, his free hand going for his six-shooter.
Kelsey heard a sound, something between a squeak and a growl and caught a blur of moving shadow.
Ghost Rider fanned his gun sending a swarm of ghostly, illuminated bullets at their attacker. The flashes briefly lit up the desert night, revealing brief glimpses of a large, misshapen form, more animal than man.
It leapt past Ghost Rider, claws like knives, missing his body by a hair’s breath, the force of the creature’s passing fluttering his white cape.
It landed with an ungraceful thud, skidding in the desert sand, than bolting off into the night. As its path veered towards Kelsey’s hiding place Phantom lunged at it, rising up, hooves flailing.
The creature stumbled, changed course and growling mournfully, was soon lost in the night.
Ghost Rider jogged over to his companions. Guns out, he went to a ridge and peered out, hoping to spot a hint of the creature’s retreat.
Kelsey hesitantly moved to join him.
“It’s a monster!” She breathed, anxiously. “I know I said…but, I didn’t think…are you okay?”
Ghost Rider followed her gaze to the slashed corner of his cape.
“Fine.” He glanced over his shoulder, and noticed his horse limping towards them. He quickly holstered his guns, and moved to inspect the animal’s injury.
He knelt down, running gloved fingers across a trio of shallow cuts across its foreleg.
“Not as lucky as I was, huh, fellow?” he muttered.
Kelsey hung back, having lost some of her adventuresome spirit in the wake of the creature’s attack and Phantom’s injury. She tended to treat the horse like Ghost Rider’s pet, but having it rushing forward willing to risk itself, to protect her, had affected her more than she’d expected.
Phantom raised his head and for a moment the horse and the young woman’s eyes met. Kelsey felt herself being drawn into those ancient white eyes and took a sharp breath, as she was struck that there was a depth, a wisdom, in those eyes. Phantom was not just a pet or mere transportation for the ghostly super hero. Phantom was a partner, and perhaps even more, then Kelsey could understand.
She walked hesitantly up to the horse and, humbly, offered her hand.
“Thank you,” She said, quietly.
Phantom gave a low neigh and nuzzled her palm with his nose.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Ghost Rider said, standing up and dusting off his hands. He looked around, wither oblivious to what had occurred between his steed and Kelsey, or deciding to focus on the task at hand was unclear. “Got a couple questioned answered, but at the same time, I’ve got a new list.”
“What now?” Kelsey asked.
“We follow it,” Ghost Rider replied, walking back to the ridge where they last saw their attacker. “We know it’s an animal, not just some drug gang or super-villain and now it’s wounded and scared.”
Reaching the ridge, he pointed at the ground and Kelsey squinted, catching droplets of a strangely colored liquid on the ground.
“Blood…?” She asked.
Ghost Rider nodded.
“Of some kind,” He replied. “It’s hurt and heading somewhere…”
He gestured toward the left.
“It heads that way,” He said. “ It’ll hit the Rez in about five miles. If he turns off to the west, that’s where the old military base was…couple ranches that were abandoned when they did atomic testing in the 60’s…”
“So, it’ll either run into the middle of a populated area,” Kelsey nodded. “Or we follow him into a place with a million hiding places…those are our choices?”
“Yeah. Ready to go?”
“Uh…I guess.” She replied, surprised at the lack of attempt to send her away again.
“Good, get on Phantom.”
“I can walk.”
“We aren’t debating anymore,” Ghost Rider said. “Phantom can protect you or get you to safety if things go wrong. It is how we are doing this. Now, get on the damn horse.”
Kelsey nodded, and did as she was told.
Horse, rider and the ghostly cowboy walked along, following the meager traces of their quarry, droplets of blood, a vague footprint or strands of coarse hair.
The night and the desert flowed past them and Kelsey soon lost all sense of how far they’d gone or what time it was. She felt herself slumping in the saddle and her eyelids growing heavy. Phantom had not been moving at a fast pace, but when he stopped, it startled her awake.
“What…?” She asked, disoriented.
“Shhh,” Ghost Rider said, touching her leg. “Stay here.”
He then melted into the shadows, leaving Kelsey to worry and wonder if he had been talking to her or the horse.
She spent several minutes, imagining which rock or dune the creature would leap out from behind and attack her from, before Ghost Rider was suddenly back at her side. He reached out a hand to help her down and then silently lead her to a clump of brush and rocks.
The pair knelt down and peered down, the low, rolling hill of sand and gravel.
“Down there,” Ghost Rider said, in a hushed tone. “The remains of some old buildings. It’s hunkered down there.”
“What now?” Kelsey asked.
“Nothing to do, but have a look,” He shrugged, getting to his feet.
They made their way, slowly, carefully down the slope, trying to keep to the little bit of cover available.
Spread before them was the crumbled remains of several concrete buildings. No wall left standing was taller than waist high. The ground was strewn with twisted lengths of rusted metal, broken glass and rotted wood.
“Could this look any more like the set of a horror movie…?” Kelsey muttered.
“I think if we circle around…” Ghost Rider muttered.
“We are not playing ‘hide and seek’ all night,” Kelsey said, stepping forward, and reaching down. She picked up a fist-sized rock and hurled it at a length of sheet metal. It rang like a gong, the rock then bounced off, bouncing a couple times.
“That’s your plan?” Ghost Rider muttered, drawing his six-shooters and sliding into a defensive stance.
Several tense seconds passed, with the only sound being a faint rustling that could have been movement amongst the ruins or merely rocks dislodged by the stone Kelsey tossed.
She was a feeling a bit chagrined that her plan was a bit silly and had proven to be pointless, when the ground several feet in front of them erupted and a massive, bestial form leapt out.
Kelsey was almost relieved that things were so chaotic, so there was no chance anyone would notice that she screamed ‘like a girl’.
She stumbled back a few steps, until her back bumped against Phantom’s shoulder.
The monster was some kind of animal, standing tall as the Ghost Rider, its fur was coarse and an ugly grey-green. Its eyes were large, round and nicotine yellow with a tiny, black dot of an iris. Its already intimidating height was increased by its ears, large and floppy, but when erect added another foot to its height. It also sported tiny nubs of horn on its forehead.
“Goddamn,” Ghost Rider muttered, firing his six-shooters. “A jackalope…”
Anticipating a future ‘I told you so’ from the young reporter was a further distraction, keeping him focused and pushing back any anxiety he might have felt over the monster’s attack.
His first few shots were at the ground in front of the creature. The supernatural hero wanted to contain the Jackalope and gain a chance to figure out what it was.
The creature skidded to a halt, glaring at the hero, its’ breathing raspy and labored. It dodged to the side and then leapt again at Ghost Rider, its arms reaching for him, blunt yellow claws extended.
Ghost Rider fired off two shots, one clipped an over-sized ear, and the other creased the back of one paw.
Unfortunately, its other paw was still strong enough to catch Ghost Rider across the temple and stagger him.
He managed to hold on to one of his pistols, but his hat went flying.
Phantom lunged in between the two, rearing up, his flailing hooves driving the creature back. Ghost Rider went intangible, dove through his horse, twirled his gun and brought the butt down on the bridge of the jackalope’s nose.
“Stay down and we can talk instead of having to kill each other,” He intoned. “No one else needs to be hurt.”
The creature flailed its paws and hissed at the masked gunfighter, its’ wounds dripping black blood and spitting strings of nicotine-colored mucus.
It lunged forward and both horse and hero went intangible.
Ghost Rider went solid again, once the beast had passed and grabbed hold of an over-sized ear and yanked the jackalope back harshly.
“I am sorry,” He intoned, as he pressed his six-shooter against its chest and shot the creature through the heart.
It twitched, gasped, and then collapsed like a sack of wet cement.
“What…?!” Kelsey exclaimed, racing up to Ghost Rider and the fallen monster. “You killed it!”
“No,” Ghost Rider told her, crouching down to retrieve his gun and hat. “Magic bullets. They can scorch your soul or raise hell with your nervous system.”
“I’m guessing its not contemplating its sins…?”
Kelsey suggested, peering in curiosity at the large, misshapen creature, but having seen too many horror movies to get close to it.
“So, what now?” She asked.
“Still working on that,” Ghost Rider muttered, looking from the jackalope to the ruined buildings downs the ridge. “It came from down there, but is it the only one?”
“What?” Kelsey said, realizing she kept starting every sentence with ‘what?’. “You think there’s a…nest or something?”
“No idea,” Ghost Rider replied. “But, we need to find out…make some sense of all this. “
He started down the ridge, moving slow on the sandy slope. Kelsey moved to follow, stumbled and almost collided with Ghost Rider when he abruptly stopped.
“Phantom!” He called up. “Stay alert!”
Annoyed that the horse was trusted with more responsibility than her, Kelsey moved past the ghostly cowboy and down to the ruins.
Kelsey used the toe of her boot to push aside a few pieces of rubble, making a path for herself.
Ghost Rider caught up with her and followed close behind her, once again, guns drawn.
“This place looks more like a lab or military base than a town,” He muttered, glancing around.
“Makes sense,” Kelsey said, pulling up a strand of barbed wire so she could duck underneath it and keep going. “I know I’m an amateur at this stuff, but there didn’t seem to be anything supernatural about our jackalope.”
“It is not a…never mind,” Ghost Rider said, not looking at her, but a pile of broken concrete and twisted steel beams. “You’re likely right. This monster seems to have been birthed by science, not magic. That looks like a likely lair for it.”
Kelsey nodded, and leaned down to shift some rocks.
Shifting one rock freed up some twisted metal fencing, one of the sharp bits catching on her pant leg. She pulled herself free, then frowned down at a piece of bent metal attached to the section of fence.
“Look at this…!” She breathed, standing up.
Ghost Rider moved away from the potential monster’s nest and joined her.
She struggled to straighten the flat piece of metal. It was coated with dirt and rust, but they could make out some printing on it. Kelsey held up her phone and thumbed the flashlight app.
“No tres…trespassing,” She read. “Amma lase…?”
“It’s a ‘b’,” Ghost Rider told her. “I think we are standing in what’s left of the original Gamma Base…”
“The place where the Hulk came from…?!” Kelsey exclaimed, dropping the sign and anxiously scanning their surroundings with her light, as though just saying his name would cause the gamma-spawned titan to magically appear. “That means…”
“That it’s not a jackalope,” Ghost Rider said, holstering one of his guns and gently taking her wrist to stop her flashing her light all over the place. “But rather some kind of mutated rabbit or other desert animal.”
He sighed, looked around at the wreckage that was all that remained of the birthplace of one of the most powerful beings to walk the planet and then back up the slope, where his horse and the fallen monster were.
“Thing’s probably the only one of its kind,” He said, quietly. “And has no idea what the hell to do, but desperate to survive.”
“This has happened before, hasn’t it?” Kelsey asked, catching the weary tone in his voice.
“Yeah. Not for a long while, but I and other members of the Rangers have crossed path with local monsters that turned out to be leftovers from the gamma bomb tests. Hasn’t been one in years. We need to get that thing some help…”
“Help? It’s a monster!” Kelsey protested.
“It’s a scared animal,” Ghost Rider told her, holstering his other gun. “Most of the other creatures were riddled with cancer and birth defects that made just being alive painful for them. They aren’t evil. They are scared and hurt and unable to understand what’s happening. Come on.”
He trudged back up the slope. Kelsey gave a last look at the rubble, then jogged to catch up with him.
About three quarters of the way up, Phantom gave a whiney and a snort, and Ghost Rider stopped, putting out a hand to stop Kelsey as well.
“What’s up?”
“Not sure,” He muttered in reply. “Phantom’s caught the scent of…something.”
“The jackalope woke up?”
“No. What’s making him nervous is he doesn’t want stop keeping an eye on it to investigate. If it isn’t one thing…”
They reached the top of the ridge, to find the anxious ghost horse, pacing back and forth near the fallen creature, all the while glancing around into the surrounding shadows.
Ghost Rider went to the horse and calmed it with a hand on its neck. He glanced down at the mutated animal and saw that its’ breathing was coming in heavy, rapid bursts. Not healthy sounding, but not likely it would be doing any rampaging in the near future.
Kelsey peered down at the jackalope and then out into the night.
“I can’t tell what’s just nighttime noise and what should be worrying me,” She shrugged.
“Don’t know,” Ghost Rider replied, shifting his shoulders, as though bothered by an itch between his shoulder blades. “Phantom generally knows what he’s talking about…something doesn’t feel right…”
Suddenly, lights flared up around them, blinding all three and causing the jackalope to twitch and its eyelids to flutter.
“Freeze!” a voice announced. “You are trespassing on Federal property!”
“Seriously…?” Kelsey muttered, glancing back at the decades old ruins.
“Vasquez said something about the feds taking an interest,” Ghost Rider replied, quietly.
A half dozen figures stepped out in front of the lights. They wore the distinctive blue uniforms of agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
“Well, that can’t be good,” Kelsey added.
Ghost Rider stood still, his hands on his hips.
One figure, a broad-shouldered blonde man stepped forward.
“I am Commander Daniel Tate. You are trespassing on a crime scene…”
“An unmarked crime scene on public land?” Kelsey protested.
“You’ll find…” The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent began.
“State your case, Commander,” Ghost Rider intoned, grimly.
“You will surrender yourselves and the animal immediately…”
“No.” Ghost Rider interrupted. “You will not be dictating terms. We are not children nor are we criminals and this animal is under our care…”
“It is…?” Kelsey breathed.
Ghost Rider ignored her, focusing his gaze on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Commander.
She couldn’t make out the S.H.I.E.L.D. man’s expression, because of the lights, but she could almost feel the waves of confusion and rising anger coming off him, as this whole scenario had gone fully off script on him.
“What makes you think you have any leverage in this situation?” The S.H.I.E.L.D. man asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“I am an immortal agent of vengeance,” Ghost Rider solemnly stated, drawing his six guns faster than the eye could follow. “And I am a very good shot.”
Kelsey’s eyes went wide, as she could plainly hear the safeties coming off a half dozen weapons behind the lights.
“Do you really think you can drop all of us?” Tate asked, with grim smugness.
“I don’t have to be able to shoot all your men,” Ghost Rider replied. “I just have to shoot you.
“Uhh…?” Was as far as Kelsey got.
Several of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stepped forward.
“Hold it!” Tate snapped over his shoulder to his men. He then glanced back at the masked cowboy. “This is ridiculous, my men will cut you down after your first shot….”
“At which point they will discover that the word ‘ghost’ is not in my name, merely because I thought it sounded good. And you’ll still be dead. I am not concerned about dealing with your men. I am dealing with you. You are the one in charge.”
That was the moment that both Kelsey and Tate realized that Ghost Rider’s guns were pointed squarely at him.
“You are in command,” Ghost Rider continued. “You are the one who decides how we continue. How does this end?”
Several very tense seconds passed.
“It doesn’t have to go this way,” Tate said, in what he hoped was a soothing tone.
“That is true.” The phantom cowboy nodded. “If you wish to proceed without weapons, all you and your men need to do is lower yours and I will follow suit.”
“Commander…?” One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. troopers muttered. “We can…”
“Yes, we can,” Tate said, quietly. “But, just this once, we won’t…stand down.”
“Commander…?” An Asian woman began to protest.
“Stand down!” Tate snapped, glaring at his group. “Amherst, hold this position.”
He holstered his pistol and strode towards the strange quartet.
As he did, Ghost Rider holstered his own weapons, signaled for Phantom to stand guard over the senseless jackalope and then crossed his arms.
Kelsey stepped forward to stand beside Ghost Rider, in the hopes that it made her look less damsel-ish and more like an equal partner.
“You have two minutes to convince me,” Tate said, stopping a few feet from the duo. His hand rested on the butt of his gun.
“This creature is a danger, to itself and the surrounding community,” Ghost Rider explained, in a calm, even tone. “It needs to be taken some place where people are safe from it, but also where it is safe from people and has a chance to live out its life peaceably. I will not allow it to be treated as a specimen or as the building blocks to create more of its kind.”
“So, you just want to dictate terms, is that it?”
“If you can accomplish that,” Ghost Rider continued as though the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent hadn’t spoken or he and Kelsey weren’t facing half a dozen heavily armed men. “Miss Walsh, as a journalist would be able to assist in writing and distributing whatever cover story you think would best help calm the community…”
“I would, obviously, get byline and first release option, of course,” Kelsey added.
“Obviously,” Tate replied, a corner of his mouth going up.
“And I would be favorably inclined, should your field offices need assistance…” Ghost Rider said. “I have about a century and a half’s experience dealing with unusual threats, as well as contacts in the super hero and supernatural community.
“Interesting,” Tate said, his hand moving away from his gun belt to rub thoughtfully at his chin. “What is this…animal to you…?”
“An innocent caught up in and shaped by forces beyond it’s understanding,” Ghost Rider replied. “Such beings are to be helped, rather than hunted.”
“Well, you and I see the world very differently,” Tate nodded. “But, I think we can come to an…understanding here. I question your methods, but not your intentions. We can see to the…jackalope and then consult with your media liaison on the best way to frame a cover story.”
“That would be satisfactory,” Ghost Rider nodded.
# # # # #
Two days later, matters had been settled, the newspapers and local TV ran the story about rival drug gangs fighting out in the desert and several unfortunate victims caught in the crossfire. The jackalope was given medical attention and the promise of a safe habitat, while Ghost Rider was given the contact information for the S.H.I.E.L.D. department that dealt with supernatural occurrences.
Soon, after a celebratory breakfast at the diner, Hamilton was escorting Kelsey to her much-abused looking car.
“Well, thanks for helping me out,” Kelsey said. “Gotta say, it’s never boring when I bump into you guys.”
“This is true,” Hamilton nodded, as he peered at the debris that filled her car, evidence of her long road trip and questionable housekeeping skills. “Where to now?”
“Made some connections with some local papers and stuff, but a friend of mind on the east coast is doing an on-line start up and I may be able to work something out with him. We’ll see.”
“Well, good luck with…whatever you end up doing.” The older cowboy said, giving her arm a pat. “Do what you can to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. honest and I’m here if you need me.”
The smile she gave him was genuine, as she got into her car. Despite the strange turn her life was taking since meeting the quartet of Ghost Riders, she taken a liking to them.
Hamilton stood, watching the cloud of dust her car kicked up, thoughtfully. “I wonder about that girl,” he said to himself, a look of thoughtful concern crossing his features.
# # # # #
Next issue: Interlude.
The new status quo has been established and now it’s time to start messing with our cast! Dan makes a new friend! Robbie races! Johnny gets a job! And for you action fans, you’ll get to see a Ghost Rider get beaten unmercifully! The last couple pieces fall into place and we head into the big arc: ‘The coming of the seven!’