Free Demon Hunt by A. W. Hart Page A

you.”
    “ Honestly Pam, did you and your ex have sex? Because you act like you haven’t ever gotten any. What am I going to do?”
    They stood before the battered pine door of the bar and Pam turned. “My ex? It wasn’t quantity, but the quality I found lacking, sweetie. And what are we going to do? I don’t think the cops have a form for ‘attack of snickering entities’ in their files. We need to talk to the freaky people in town. And most of them are in this bar.”

Chapter Nine
     
    The interior of the Dancing Elk was a cliché
    Rocky Mountain drinking hole, with walls clad in pine paneling and tables fashioned from battered old whiskey barrels. Mismatched chairs and stools stood scattered about the cavernous space, some occupied and some holding beers while the occupant took a turn at a pool table. The place was hopping for a weeknight but Monday and Tuesday substituted for weekends in the gaming world, since most casino employees worked during the actual weekend.
    An abundance of cowboy hats, flannel, well-worn ski gear and the obligatory Colorado hippies were in view, as well as a few gold miners just off second shift at one of the corporate gold mining operations still in business in the nearby town of Victor. All of the patrons offended by cigarette smoke stayed bundled in their parkas on the back patio beside the dubious warmth of the outdoor fireplace. The brick hearth held the equivalent of a bonfire but still couldn’t cut the cold more than three feet out.
    The smoke of a thousand bundles of tobacco combined with the odor of beer and several gallons of Kentucky bourbon and cactus juice to make the air inside the bar thick and almost visible. Most of the pollution seemed to originate from the tables towards the back wall, which Pam made her way towards, dragging Rhi behind her. The women passed two large men, dressed in the western-themed uniforms of one of the Pearl’s competitors. The men were embroiled in a heated argument.
    “ I told you - gremlins! Little bastards stalked me for two miles through the woods until I got to my truck. They were popping in and out of nowhere. I think they were playing with me! Think they’re some kind of experiment loose from Fort Carson?”
    The other man glanced around. “Clay. I think this is one you might want to keep to yourself.”
    Pam turned to wiggle her eyebrows at her friend. Ignoring the danger of secondhand smoke and spontaneous combustion from the alcohol fumes, she plunked herself down in a scarred wooden chair next to a worn man of middling age, his thinning blonde hair covered with a battered black Stetson. His face showed evidence of once being brash and handsome. But the blue eyes were faded with memory, the arrogance of youth replaced with cynical amusement.
    Waving Rhi to the chair beside her, Pam ordered two Fat Tire beers from the waitress and turned to face the older man, who observed her and Rhi with an amused expression on his weathered features.
    “ Miss Brennan, Miss Douglas. What’s up, ladies?” He then addressed Rhi, “And how did the wild child of Horse Thief Gulch get you out and about this evening, princess? You’re a bit more conservative than your friend. I see her every week. You I see every other week, which is downright prudish in this town.”
    “ Now, Houston, don’t call the girl a prude. You’ll ruin her reputation. She can’t help it if she has developed the unfortunate habit of sticking her nose in a book or practicing Kung Fu moves on her deck.” Pam lowered her voice, trying to sound mysterious. “It’s probably safer. She’s being stalked by something weird.”
    Houston’s caterpillar eyebrows rose a few millimeters but he gave no other sign of interest other than to cross his arms across his faded plaid shirt and nod, signaling Pam to proceed.
    Rhi sucked her beer down in a few gulps as Pam related the tale. Houston listened, not blinking or voicing any kind of disbelief. After waving to the harried