Chapter 23: Flagstaff
by Deke Bishop
I've never been one to believe in anything beyond what I can see in front of me. Never been religious, never believed in ghosts, never believed in witches or spells. That's changed now, I've seen spirits, flying monkeys, and too much other stuff to name. I have to think these are things that no man was ever really meant to see. And making those things disappear from this world is what I'm going to do for the rest of my days. For the first time in a long time, I have a direction to go and people to go there with. It's funny that I only discovered my purpose in life after I'd finally reached the point when I'd given up on ever finding one.
It started one day in Vic's bar. I had just been robbed and was in a particularly foul mood. Then all the weird stuff started happening, almost at once. Scorpions and flying pretzels, a boy that turned into a girl, and people that just appeared out of nowhere. I was about ready to just walk away from all of it until the killing started. Molly Skidmore was a doll, it was hard to believe anyone could hurt her. I couldn't just stand by and let all this happen, so I decided it was time for me to start moving again.
It had been so long since I had gone on any sort of mission that I almost wasn't sure if I was up for it. When that first group of Apaches came upon us going up the hill, I nearly froze and the back of my head started throbbing. The adrenaline kicked in after, but after I heard them say that shit about a curse, I was completely sure that they were the ones behind all of this.
After this, I had a plan. I'd go with the group to the Apache camp and somehow convince them to wipe out the chief, shaman and anyone else that might be causing the trouble. But they stopped me, and I suppose I stopped myself to an extent. There's just been nothing but killing in my life. I don't really know much else, but I think maybe I've just lost the appetite for it. Cause after we left that camp, I felt rage I hadn't experienced in a long time. I wanted to go back to that camp and shoot every damn one of them. Then when I punched Gilbert and I saw that boy crumpled on the ground and I remembered exactly why I quit. The nightmares all flooded back and I just couldn't take it anymore.
But for whatever reason, these people accept me. They don't know who or what I really am, but being with them gives me a fresh start, and I damn sure had given up on finding one of those. It takes me back to what took me into the army in the first place, trying to stop bad things from happening to good people. I just hope I can keep it up.