Free Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western by Samantha Warren Page B

because she won't take you to her bed."
    The older Gaines brother growled. "She will. Just you wait. One of these days, she will."
    They rode in silence to the river. "Stop here." Jeremiah jumped off Nelly and draped her reins over a tree branch near the water before he stripped down to nothing.
    Jasper pressed his lips tightly together to stifle the know-it-all smirk that would surely get him a good beating. He tethered Dynamite near Nelly so they could both drink and wandered down the river a short distance to give his brother some privacy. Not that Jeremiah had a modicum of humility anyway. He would strip down in the middle of town and bath in a horse trough if he thought the sheriff wouldn't arrest him for it.
    As Jasper sank down onto a log to get lost in his own thoughts, Jeremiah splashed about in the cold water. It hadn't rained for awhile, so the river was low. The mud he kicked up made it brown and ugly and didn't help him getting clean much, but he didn't notice. He always felt like a kid whenever he bathed in the river. It was the only place he would bathe, and he didn't do it often enough. But it was fun when he did.
    A flicker of light caught his eye and he dove toward it. The fish slipped through his fingers by barely an inch. "Lucky bastard," he grumbled as he stood up and surveyed the water again. It took him several tries, but he caught the fish and soon after that, he snagged another one.
    "Jasper, get over here."
    The young man looked up in time to see his brother emerge from the river, stark naked, dripping wet, and carrying two large fish. He grinned and grabbed some of the fallen twigs that littered the ground around the trees.
    "I thought you wanted to get to town," he said as he piled the wood up and got a fire started.
    "Eh." Jeremiah shrugged and looked to the sky. "Sun's still high yet. We got time. Don't wanna get there too early or the good whores is still sleepin'."
    Jasper snorted and rolled his eyes. He took the fish from his brother and skewered them on two longer sticks. Then he propped them over the fire using several stones. Jeremiah lay back on the ground to air dry, heedless of the dirt that was now covering his backside. Jasper rolled his eyes and pulled a small book from Dynamite's saddle bag.
    He settled himself on the other side of the fire. He opened the book very carefully. It was called Frankenstein, written by a young woman named Mary Shelley. The shopkeeper's wife, Emma Jones, had let him borrow it. She had lots of books, books she had brought with her from back east. Rumor had it she was a librarian before moving out west. Why someone would give up that life to come out west and toil in the hot sun and dirt all day, Jasper would never understand.
    Jasper found the page where he left off and began reading. It was a good book. They always were. He had to be careful with them, though. Jeremiah mocked him for reading, but he never did anything cruel to him. Jed, on the other hand, would snatch the books from his hands and throw them in the fire hard enough to send the coals flying. Mrs. Jones had been very upset when that had happened to one of hers. Jasper thought she would never lend him another book again, but she forgave him and now he took great care with the books. Jed never saw one and Jeremiah never said anything about it to Jed.
    Jasper glanced at his brother. Jeremiah was rough and uncouth, a bull in a china shop as the saying goes, but he wasn't Jed. There was a stupid innocence to Jeremiah. He did what he was told and didn't think much about right and wrong. He just went with the way life flowed. Unlike Jed. Jed went out of his way to hurt people. Sure, on the face of things he pretended to have morals. No shooting women or children, no shooting the animals. But that didn't mean he didn't find other ways to do damage, to hurt people as much as he could. Even those he claimed to care about weren't immune to his vileness. Ma and Pa were afraid of him toward the end. She