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Gehenna (West of Hell #1)

Jason Brant

Gehenna

  West of Hell #1

  Jason Brant

  GEHENNA

  by JASON BRANT

  Copyright © 2012 Jason Brant

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Jason Brant

  Chapter 1

  "You need to control your whores!" the filthy cowboy said, shoving his way through the saloon doors.

  Ellis let out a heavy sigh as he watched another patron, who would likely never return, storm out of his saloon because of Karen. That made three this month. Shaking his head, he turned around and glared at her.

  "How is someone so smart so stupid? You can't make money if you always insult my customers. You got to be the worst hooker I ever had."

  "He smelled like shit. Even more than the rest of them," Karen said. She stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at Ellis. She considered him her closest friend, which she found odd because she considered herself little more than his slave. He treated her well, and he never hit his women. That was rare for a man who ran a brothel.

  "They all smell like shit. That's why they need to pay for it. If you would just drink some of this rotgut like the rest of the girls, you wouldn't care so much."

  The room grew silent as he finished. He looked back at everyone else drinking at the bar. Most of them were from other towns — just passing through as they headed further west. Anthony and Dave, the owner of the general store next door and his employee, stared back at him.

  "Not you guys. You smell like a bunch of roses," Ellis said.

  "Hell, I know we stink. But you serve us rotgut?" Anthony asked.

  Karen couldn't help but laugh while she descended the stairs, lifting her frilly skirt to keep from tripping. She blew absentmindedly at the long strands of auburn hair that fell across her brow. Leave it to Anthony and Dave to worry more about the quality of their whiskey than their stench.

  "Of course I don't; you get nothing but the best. I give the rotgut to everyone that comes in on the train," Ellis said, looking everywhere but their eyes.

  Dave, the short and jovial stock boy, didn't seem to believe him and kept inspecting the booze in his dirty glass. Anthony watched him for a few seconds before cuffing him on the back of the head.

  "What're you looking at, dummy? Like you could tell if that was all whiskey."

  "Don't hit me, boss!" Dave said.

  Ellis used the distraction to get away. As usual, he struggled, squeezing his heavy frame through the opening on the side of the bar.

  "I knew I should have taken those books away from you. Women got no place learnin' from those things. Nothin' good comes from it."

  "If it wasn't for those books, I couldn't have helped you with your books."

  Ellis glanced over his shoulder, ensuring no one heard her. "You know I can't thank you enough for helpin' me out around here. I know you're the smartest person in this whole town, but you can't keep makin' fun at everyone. People don't like their women learnt, especially not their whores."

  Karen let out a long sigh. She hated peddling herself to the stupid men who got off the train, but she refused to do what was expected of women in this godforsaken town. She would never marry a local man because she viewed it as the equivalent of indentured servitude. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, and worshipping at the feet of a man wasn't something that interested her. Being paid to perform the fun parts of a marriage could be tolerated. No man would marry a woman who was more intelligent than him anyway.

  "I'll try and behave, but do your best to send me men who have at least heard of soap. Give the dirty ones to Barbara."

  "I heard that!" Barbara said from the balcony at the top of the stairs. Karen didn't have to look up at her to tell that she had been drinking again.

  "You don't care who Ellis sends to you."

  "Yeah, but you don't have to say it," Barbara said. She leaned over the railing and waved at a man sitting at a table, cradling a mug of beer. When he flashed a sheepish grin back, she broke into her patented routine of twirling red hair and fluttering eyelashes.

  Karen liked Barbara, but she was always drunk and had no self worth. Men wanted dumb women who were willing do anything, and Barbara fit that mold. Still, she treated Karen nicer than any of the other girls that worked at The Ellis Saloon. Karen often had long, semi-drunken conversations with Barbara about escaping on the railroad and taking it to the end of the line.

  While they both dreamt of that, Karen planned on following through. Gehenna not only served as a way station for railroad passengers preparing to continue west, but also for people's lives. It was the place where dreams and passions died.

  Karen saved most of her earnings, hiding them under a floorboard in her room, and would soon have enough to live on for several years. Barbara was content with her lot in life.

  Ellis looked at her for several moments, appearing to consider what she said.

  "Could you at least try the rotgut?"

  Karen rubbed her hands on his balding head and laughed. "You know bett−"

  Shouting from the street interrupted her. The first scream came from a woman, with several groans coming a few seconds later.

  Dave hopped off his bar stool and shuffled to the door, peering over the saloon doors.

  "Jesus help us! He bit her face!"

  Everyone jumped from their seats and rushed to the door and windows, squeezing against each other. Karen climbed onto the bar, giving herself a better angle to look out the door.

  What she saw made her stomach lurch. She didn't dare turn her eyes away from the horror as she fought against rising bile.

  Two men kneeled over a middle-aged woman in the dirt street, blood pooling underneath them, creating a reddish-brown mud. Three arrows jutted out of the back of the nearest man, two more from his accomplice.

  They were eating the woman alive.

  Chapter 2