Free The Midnight Men and Other Stories by Lee Moan

morning and how-do-you-do, but when it mattered, when he really needed solace, there was no one there.
    Not even Louise. And that hurt worst of all.
    As he crossed the dusty main street a small voice rose above the early morning clamour.
    “Sheriff! Sheriff!”
    It was Saul, the blacksmith’s son. He stood on the threshold of the open-fronted workshop where his father was already hard at work, pounding his hammer in a glittering spray of orange sparks. The young apprentice wore a besmirched apron that was far too big for him, a smile frozen on his face. He lifted his hand in a hesitant wave then lowered it slowly when Wade failed to respond.
    Wade felt a surge of self-loathing. Saul was only thirteen years old, the only youngster in Perseverance who wasn’t afraid of him . . . or the thing which clung to him like a shadow. If there was such a thing as hero worship in this town, it was there on Saul’s freckled face. But Wade didn’t know how to deal with that. When he looked in the mirror each morning, he saw no hero, just a broken man.
    Seeing the growing disillusionment in Saul’s eyes, Wade decided on a compromise: he tipped his hat, a gesture which lit the candle of adoration in the boy’s eyes once more, then went on his way.
    ***
    Wade approached the white picket fence surrounding the school yard and stopped. He didn’t dare go any further. The children didn’t notice him at first, lost as they were in their carefree games. Then a pigtailed girl stopped in front of him, eyes wide, sucking in breath in short gasps. She backed away across the yard, bumping into other children who, in turn, spotted the nightmare which stood on the boundary of their safe haven. The girl found enough breath to scream before turning and running inside. Wade held out a placatory hand, but it was pointless. He turned and began to walk away.
    “Jeremiah!”
    He stopped, captivated by that familiar voice. He looked back to see Louise running across the yard. She approached the fence and stopped. Pink roses bloomed in her cheeks after her short run. The sun gilded her blonde hair like a halo; her freckles looked beautiful in the morning light.
    “Jeremiah, what is it?” she asked.
    Before he could form an answer, he heard footsteps in the dirt behind him. He turned and found the figure of Randy Took hurrying towards him, pulling on his overcoat. Wade noticed the pronounced limp his old friend still carried since the nightmare at the Parnell homestead. The night everything changed. . .
    Randy stopped his advance when he saw Wade. His face became rigid and his gaze faltered. He hurried past, giving him a wide berth.
    “Louise?” he said. “I heard the children screaming. Everything all right?”
    Louise touched Randy’s arm, a small sign of affection that cut Wade deep. The diamond engagement ring on her finger glittered, mocking him with its simple beauty.
    “Yes, Randy,” she said. “We’re fine.” She turned back to Wade, eyes filled with pity.
    Wade studied her face, struggling to recall the quiet, intimate moments they had once shared, but most of it was lost to him. He remembered the taste of her breath after a kiss, the scent of her skin, but that was all. That was enough torture.
    Louise and Randy, the two people he cherished most in the world, stared back at him like strangers.
    “Did you want to see me?” Louise asked.
    “Yes,” he said. “I just wanted to see you. One last time.”
    The black shape at his side let out a sudden mournful howl. The children yelped, clutching at Louise’s arms and the frills of her dress. Louise herself fought to contain her dread.
    Wade grimaced, consumed with despair, then turned and walked away.
    ***
    The spectre had once been a Native American Sioux called John Parnell, who came to the town of Perseverance with an English wife and a beautiful daughter. Under the name Far Rider he had been a great warrior back in Wyoming, but his tribe banished him after he betrayed them to the