Chapter 10 - The Second Key
The early evening wind swept across the desolate valley of Red Creek, carrying the heavy, choking stench of charred cedar and burning wool. Caleb dumped the coughing sheriff onto the safety of the horse trough, then spun around to face the street.
The Lucky Star Saloon was a roaring inferno, its wooden walls collapsing inward like a melting candle. The heat was a physical wall, driving the few remaining townspeople—shadowy, silent figures watching from distant doorways—further back into the gloom.
In the center of the street, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire, stood the two little girls. They were completely untouched by the soot and smoke, their yellow dresses smooth and clean, holding out their tiny palms to display the second iron key.
"You forgot the master lock, Uncle Caleb," the twin on the left said softly, her voice carrying an eerie, hypnotic cadence over the roar of the flames.
Caleb stood on the edge of the boardwalk, his right hand severely burned and wrapped hastily in a strip torn from his bloody shirt. His revolver was still clutched in his left hand, heavy and ready, but he knew lead wouldn't stop whatever these children were.
"Where is the master lock?" Caleb demanded, his voice raspy and exhausted.
The girl on the right pointed a small finger past the burning ruins of the saloon, straight toward the base of the massive gallows post that stood in the center of the deserted town square. A thick iron chain ran from the underground vault beneath the gallows, disappearing deep into the alkali flats where the old silver mine had been sealed a decade ago.
"That's where Elena went," the girl whispered. "That's where the ledger waits for its final signature."
Before Caleb could take a step toward the gallows, a heavy hand gripped his injured shoulder. He whipped around, his gun instinctively rising, but stopped when he saw the sheriff swaying on his feet, his face streaked with black soot and blood.
"Don't go down there, Caleb," the sheriff pleaded, his voice breaking into a dry sob. "That vault... that's where the syndicate kept the miners who tried to organize the strike. They didn't bury them in the cemetery. They walled them up alive beneath the town square."
Caleb looked from the terrified sheriff back to the two little girls. As he watched, the twins began to walk backward in unison, their eyes never leaving his, stepping seamlessly into the shadows behind the gallows post.
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And then, from beneath the scorched timbers of the burning saloon, a slow, heavy dragging sound began—the sound of someone pulling a heavy iron chain across the dirt floor.
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