Looking around, I slowly pushed my knees into Butterball’s sides, urging him forward very cautiously. Towns could be dangerous. Ghost towns, even more so. There was a stillness to them, a silence, like the forests get right before a predator strikes, that set my shoulders on edge.

When everything is frozen in place, and all sound dies, but you know you’re being watched by something dangerous, that’s more than a little hungry. I thought darkly as I urged my horse forward.

The town of Sugar Leaf had seen better days. Looking around I could see signs of damage that ranged from weapons fire, to claw marks, to the outright bizarre; such as the barbershop door that looked like half an explosion, half a frenzied scratching fit on the wood by a 10 foot bear. Or, something like that anyway.

Oddly, there was very little blood though. I started to notice its distinct lack as I slowly rode my horse through the main road of the town, despite the wild and varied damage. Not in the mood to take any chances with this twisted, oppressive atmosphere, I had my Chester-Wind Repeating Rifle out, loaded, cocked, and resting in an ever tightening grip in my hand. Between that and the Molt Peace-Bringer on my hip, I wagered decent odds on challenging most things of flesh and blood that thought I would be an easy meal.

But the sheer level of inflicted damage on this barely-a-year-old town was making even that belief start to feel shaky.

Something bad, and bizarre, had happened here, and I wanted no part of it. I normally wouldn’t even be here, but this place did have something that I needed, or wanted to try to make use of at any rate. Something that I had traveled near on two months through the wild Frontier Lands of the Union to finally reach; a train station.

Sugar Leaf was one of the Terminus Towns; the very edge of the railroad tracks, before wild frontier, plains, tundras, forests, lakes, hills, and mountains were all that would be seen for days or weeks on end. A Terminus Town was the town that was the crossroad between the wild frontier and proper civilization, and they’d been that way for decades.

Ever since the Shattering.

I shook my head to refocus on what was in front of me, and not worry about world altering events that had happened before I was even born. Looking around again as Butterball kept meandering down the road, I sighed in general exasperation. If the whole town was abandoned, as I was beginning to suspect it might be, then that meant the train station was likely empty too.

Still, not a total loss.

I’d just follow the tracks to the next town, and hope for better luck. I really wasn’t overly interested in finding out what had happened here, or if this town was actually abandoned or not. I was here for the train.

Failing that, I was here for the train tracks with which to follow along on foot or on horse.

Of course, as soon as I thought that, I heard the sound of hooves on wood. I’d heard the sound often enough out on my families ranch to recognize it, and it caught my attention.

Keeping my rifle at the ready, and quickly glancing over my other weapons, both on me and within easy reach on my horse, I turned Butterball over to towards the street that led to a nearby corral. It was a large circular fence enclosure with several bleachers set up for crowds to bid on the animals inside it, when there was something there to bid on. It also served as a simple place to keep transient livestock like horses or donkeys for such a small, and new town.

When Butterball finally cleared the buildings fully and I could see inside the corral, I stared in surprised shock at what was in it.

A centaur.

A female centaur.

From the looks of her, she looked like an Indian Tribal squaw-mustang. Her human half was a slender, beautiful young woman with long black hair, a soft angular face, and the slight reddish-dusky brown skin of a tribeswoman. Her horse half was that of a pale furred mustang with black furred legs, and looked like a slender, short, graceful mare. She had a simple Indian mokisan style tunic on as a shirt, and had many tribal markings on her horse half.

Both halves were quite beautiful on their own, but together they were both jarring, and ethereally graceful.

I’d seen centaurs only once before, years ago, and I’d never seen one all alone. They tended to be as wild as their mustang horse cousins, and only some herds dealt with humans. This one was in the corral, with tribal markings painted on her, that made me think she’d likely been traded to this town by some passing Indians.

I idly wondered if she even spoke english.

My musings were cut short when she turned and noticed me, her eyes widening in surprise. She’d been cantering around the corral, hitting the wooden fence with her horse legs.

However, when she saw me, she stopped and stared as well.

Blinking as I worked to get my brain working again, I nudged Butterball slowly forward again, and waved at her.

She stared a little more in surprised curiousity, before her eyes shifted in fear and anger to the two-story building across from both the corral and me, over on my right. I’d seen looks like that before. It was always bad.

It usually meant someone was getting ready to ambush somebody else, and had been spotted at the last minute!

Yanking on the reins, I whirled Butterball around and looked at the building, my rifle instantly at my shoulder and my eyes searching for the threat. I didn’t have to look very long or hard. On the large second story balcony above the door of what I realized was a hotel, stood three tall, humanoid creatures, each covered from head to toe in shaggy hanging brown hair. So much hair in fact, that apart from the basic shapes and limbs of their bodies, I couldn’t see any distinctive features.

Well, except for one; their eyes.

Their eyes almost seemed to glow a sickly green color right through their hair as they all looked back at me. And though I couldn’t really tell from this distance, and with their hair in the way, I got the distinct feeling they were grinning vicious grins at me. While their hair covered their face as well, even from across the street I could make out large tusk-like fangs protruding out from the general area of where a mouth would be on a human.

Furwraiths! I all but cursed in my thoughts. I recognized these bastards! Hell, I’d fought them once during the war! I shuddered as I briefly recalled that nightmare of a skirmish, high up in the snowy mountains at night. It had been terrible, fast, and oddly enough, an accident, since we’d been there looking for the Coalitioners, and had instead stumbled into the Furwraiths on their own turf.

I glared at the present trio in front of me; they hadn’t actually made any hostile moves, but I knew they’d get there. The state of the town already told me that. I quickly glanced around to see if there were more, but there weren’t. So far.

There seemed to be only these three, big as life and twice as brazen, standing around watching me on a balcony patio with shit-eating grins on their fur covered faces. The hell? I thought, keeping my gun on them out of habit, since I knew it wouldn’t do me much good against Furwraiths. Still, if they didn’t know that I was already aware of that trick of theirs, I had an advantage.

Suddenly, the big one in the middle lifted something up above the railing. It was an odd contraption of some sort, with many large magnifying glass discs on brass holders, all around a dome structure in the middle, all of it sitting on top of a small wooden box. I knew it was a weapon, or dangerous device of some kind, but what really worried me was that the dome in the center was glowing!

Well, that’s never good! I thought darkly, wondering what they were up to, since while I figured it to be some kind of weapon, it wasn’t like any I’d ever seen before. Honestly, it looked more like a bizarre contraption for study from the far off East Coast than it did anything outright violent. Still, all the surrounding evidence of the town and the Furwraiths general demeanor, not to mention their presence in a human dwelling, said otherwise.

“Beware!” A woman’s voice called out. “They used that on the townsfolk!”

“Can’t have that!” I snapped, mostly to myself, and I quickly adjusted my aim.

The three Furwraiths just stood there grinning as the device started to blink, and glow even more. One of them even started adjusting some of the monocle lenses on the thing, so that they were pointed in my general direction. I found myself grinning back as I carefully lined up my shot.

They actually pointed at me and laughed. A strange, honking, high pitched laugh with lots to teeth. Well, if I was immune to bullets and saw someone pointing a gun at me, I’d laugh to. I felt more teeth enter my own smile. Thanks for standing still boys! It makes aiming so much easier! I thought as I took a breath, exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. My rifle went off, and I nailed what I was aiming at.

Their strange, glowing contraption.

The box jerked in the hands of the middle bastard holding it, slamming backwards into him and catching him by surprise. For a moment, that seemed to be it. Then the devices light flared bright enough to blind me, and then it exploded!

“Whoa boy! Whoa!” I called out reflexively as I desperately fought to get my horse under control from the double fright of the light and the small explosion. He was used to my guns going off around him. But big explosions?

Yeah, not so much.

Struggling to see myself didn’t really help very much as I used the reins, my knees and boots to work to get Butterball under control. However, after a few crucial seconds, I’d managed it. I blinked several times desperately so I could see, and finally everything started coming back into focus.

I quickly turned to look back towards the hotel balcony, only to see a smoking hole where it had been. And a shiny, fluorescent red blood spatter all over the hole. Furwraith blood. Laugh now you bastards. I grinned as a I turned to where the woman’s voice had come from; the centaur squaw.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she suddenly shrieked in warning and pointed frantically back to the building. I whirled Butterball around again, and growled as I saw two of the Furwraiths lurching out of the door of the building, heading right at me with murder in the glowing green eyes. The fact that each had about the upper quarter of their bodies burned and bleeding, might have had something to do with their mood.

I quickly moved my rifle to my left hand and reached forward to my cavalry saber on the saddle. Guns were useless against Furwraiths, except as clubs, and between their strength, fangs, and long claws meant for tearing flesh on their hands, clubs weren’t helpful. It’s really annoying fighting creatures that are immune to bullets! I thought darkly as I pulled my saber free. One of Gods little jokes; a creature that bullets will pass right through without harming them, but can be cut down by any old blade you have at hand. Wonders never really cease!

I pulled my sword free and in the same motion, shoved my rifle back into the saddle holder on the opposite side of Butterball. I looked back up just as the two Furwraits let loose a terrifying high pitched scream as they began a loping charge. It hurt my ears terribly, but it must have been worse for Butterball, since he suddenly pitched a fit, and all but threw me off him as he turned and tore away, neighing to high heaven as I hit the dirt!

I had the wind knocked out of me, but I was lucky to have landed as softly as I had, since as I struggled to stand up, everything still seemed to be working. Minus the whole lack of air in my lungs. I struggled desperately to breathe and get my blade up, and my feet moving under me. The Furwraiths were fast, and facing two of them in the open, alone, with only a blade while barely being able to breathe were lousy odds.

I very desperately needed to change things up, and before I could really think it through, I dove for the corral fence. Built to keep livestock in, it had the wide openings of a fence that let a human through with only a little squeezing. Still gasping for air more than really breathing, I half climbed, half wiggled through the fence and all but crashed onto the other side. I struggled back up to my feet quickly as the Furwraiths reached the fence, growling and honk-shouting in their strange way.

They quickly began climbing up over the fence with ease, despite their injuries, but this put them in a briefly vulnerable position with all their limbs mostly engaged. I quickly dashed forward, my breath finally starting to come back in full, and I quickly stabbed up and through the fence into the nearest Furwraiths chest. Gripping the blade hard I shoved it forward with all my weight and momentum, angling the curved saber up under the ribs and into the bastards upper chest.

He screamed, which then became a gurgle, and fell backwards, yanking me forward with him. I slammed into the fence, which hurt, but it helped stop my momentum, and I managed to hold onto my sword as he fell backward and off it, gurgling more weakly by the second. I had no time to savor my win though because the second one finished making his way over the fence, and all but jumped down right next to me, swiping as he went.

I dodged backwards, wildly swinging my sword as I went, struggling to keep my feet under me and him at a distance on the muddy, uneven terrain of the corral. He backed off from the swipe, but he quickly rallied, roared again and began slowly moving forward, swiping and crowding into my space. He’s trying to pin me to the fence! I realized as I swung back at him, but kept getting forced back by him regardless.

Big as he was, and injured from the earlier blast, he was fast, with a long reach, and had a murderous resolve to see me dead.

Very quickly I was getting pushed backwards towards the fence, and I knew he would then try and get in under my guard and gut me. I swiped back at him again, and as I did I reached my other hand for my Bowie knife, knowing I was going to need it when he made his move. I knew I’d kill him, but I also knew he was going to try to kill me regardless. His glowing green eyes were filled to the brim rage, and he’d even taken some shallow cuts to keep pushing me back.

This is going to be over quick, no matter what! I thought as I backpedaled again from another pair of lightning fast swipes. I pulled my large knife out with my left hand as I swung again with my right, pushing him back half a step, but not enough. He growled again as he came forward, his eyes lingering on my large Bowie knife briefly before focusing back on me, raw rage and hatred clearly being visible in his sickly green glowing eyes.

He reared up his arms, ready to swipe at me again, for the final steps in this dance to be played out, and for us to see who lived, and who died, when another dancer suddenly cut in.

Or more precisely, a pair of hooves.

I hadn’t even seen her approach. Clearly, neither had the Furwraith. She’d gotten close, raised up and kicked him square in his head with her front legs! Once he’d gone down, dropped like a sack of potatoes, she came down on top of his head with her front hooves, and all her body weight.

His skull cracked like a chicken egg, and his brains and florescent red blood sprayed out on the dirt and mud of the corral. She smiled a fierce smile at that.

Gasping for air at this point, I just stared, dumbfounded.

“Are there any more?” I eventually asked, working to get my brain back in working order. It had felt like nearly an hour, but in reality, this fight had barely been more than two minutes.

Time flies when you’re fighting for you life.

“More originally came here with their device. But after they’d used it on the townsfolk, they’d taken whatever they wanted and left. Those three remained, though I don’t know why.” She replied, looking over at me with curious expression.

“Probably to use it again on the next trainload of people to come here.” I muttered, slowly getting my breathing under control. Again. I was really tired of this town, and the general lack of air I was suffering from.

“Thank you for the help, by the way.” I said as a I turned to regard her properly. She stood half a head taller than me, with her hands on her hips, and a small, amused smile on her face.

“It was my pleasure, Farstrider.” She replied, moving off the Furwraith corpse and wiping her hooves off on the ground as best she could.

“Farstrider?” I asked, curious as I watched her in open fascination, having never interacted with a centaur before. Now that I was no longer at risk of being killed, the whole bizarreness of the situation started to reassert itself.

“You are clearly one who has ranged very far from his home.” She replied with a shrug as she turned her equine body back around to face me and regard me with curiosity and faint amusement. “Until I know your name, my peoples nickname for such as you is Farstrider.”

“Ah, yes.” I coughed in embarrassment.

“Where are my manners? I am Jake Ranger, miss. And it is a pleasure to meet you.” I glanced back down to the trampled Furwraith with a sardonic grin. “A true pleasure indeed, miss.”

She laughed as she came up to within arms length of me, and curtsied to me by bowing at her human waist, while also slightly kneeling one of her front legs, so she briefly went down very far, before gracefully coming back up.

“A pleasure and delight to meet you as well, Master Ranger.” She smiled, showing off her white teeth as she assumed a subtlety noble pose, with her hands on her hips and head held high. “I am Halona, formerly owned by the Black Hills Tribe. I was sold to this town a week ago, and have been awaiting someone to arrive to buy me, since none here could afford me.”

She spoke of being bought and sold with surprising pride. Then again she was a centaur, so perhaps she had a different perspective on it than a human. Besides, we only got rid of slavery barely a year ago with the whole war. It’s not like humans are any better, or worse, about human bondage. I thought briefly as I reached a hand out to her.

“Glad to meet you Miss Halona.” I said, smiling. She smiled as well, reached forward, and shook my hand.

“And I you, Master Ranger.” She tilted her head slightly in curiosity. “So, what brings you to this sad little town?”

“Looking to travel somewhere very, very far away.” I replied with a chuckle as I slowly looked around, and then started walking over to the gate of the corral. Now that the danger seemed to be over, it was time to get to work.

“How did you learn to speak english so well, if you were with an Indian tribe till a few days ago?” I asked, curious.

“A Christian Missionary had joined the tribe when I was little. He married, preached, and taught english to those who wanted to learn. I wanted to learn.” She shrugged with a smile. “I’m glad he taught me so well. I was able to command a larger price when they learned I was more than just a strange beast of burden.”

“I imagine so.” I replied with a chuckle. I was very much enjoying the conversation with her, and would be sad to see it ended. Oh well. I sighed as I opened the paddock gate wide and walked out before turning to look back at her.

“Well, I’m glad you were so expensive!” I chuckled. “And doubly glad you were on my side. It’s been a true delight to have met you. Now, before you go, would you mind telling me what happened here? What happened to the townsfolk I mean?”

She blinked in confusion, before looking at me with a raised eyebrow, and a small smile once again graced her face before she nodded as she walked out of the corral onto the local dirt road.

“Certainly. The, Furwraiths I believe your people call them, came here early in the morning yesterday. They slipped in with the last shadows of the morning. Many of them. They climbed to the roof of one of the larger buildings, and then activated their device.”

I grunted darkly as I looked around for my horse, who I saw was over by a nearby trough, drinking some water. Apparently, he’d calmed down and had stayed nearby. That saved me a lot of trouble, and I began to head over to him.

“What did that strange contraption do?” I asked, looking over to my side as she followed after me. It was still jarring to see and hear a horses legs and body, but then look up and see a beautiful woman looking down at me.

“I only saw strange beams of light that struck people. Though they didn’t seem to hurt anyone, and many didn’t even really notice, unless they saw the bright light.” Halona frowned, her eyes drifting around the small town. “At first, nothing happened. Then those who’d been hit suddenly began yelling in fear, shaking and throwing themselves into a fright. That got everyone’s attention, which kept the Furwraiths further more concealed, apart from the strange beams of light.”

“No one noticed them?” I asked in surprise as we slowly came upon Butterball. “No one noticed the giant furry bastards with a contraption that shot beams of light from a rooftop?”

“They’d chosen their targets well, all around the town, people just getting up or on their way in a hurry, and not noticing what was going on. I was in the corral already, and only saw it unfold by accident. By the time I understood what I was seeing, it was too late.” She sighed sadly. “The people weren’t dropping over dead you see. What was happening to them however, was demanding everyone’s undivided attention. By the time anyone refocused back onto the Furwraiths, it was far too late.”

“What was happening to them, if they weren’t dying?” I asked as I began checking over my saddle bags and supplies, making sure everything was still in order. Butterball didn’t seem bothered by the presence of Halona. He briefly swung his head around to her, and she petted his head with a smile, before he went back to drinking some more water.

“They were shifting into man-wolves.” She answered quietly, with a shudder. I whirled around and stared at her in shock.

“Werewolves?” I asked in disbelief. There’d been a plague of werewolves during the first year of the war, but it had been put down hard. Way I remembered it after that mess, were-beings were by and large legal, since there were so many types, and only certain kinds were actually both dangerous and infectious.

Kinds such as werewolves.

Werewolves weren’t illegal, per se, and they weren’t hunted, but they weren’t allowed to infect others without prior given consent and authorization. It was usually a marriage thing, I’d heard.

Unlike the old stories, they also weren’t bound to the moon.

“No. I have seen some werewolf packs before. These were bigger, more ferocious, more wolf with a mans general shape, but massive, and I fear, permanent. They were not shifting, they were transforming. They grew bigger, a more wild and powerful version of werewolf.” She shuddered. “Instant panic flew throughout the town. Then, with everyone screaming, confused, and sufficiently gathered outside to see what was happening, the Furwraiths altered their device, so that it created a kind of dome of shifting light over the whole town. I believe you can guess the rest?”

I looked around again at all the bizarre damage; gunshots and claw marks, but no blood. Damage and chaos, but no real destruction or death. I sighed, closing my eyes briefly in sadness before looking back to her.

“They all started transforming, didn’t they?” I asked, but wasn’t really asking at that point. I could guess already.

“Yes.” She nodded sadly, then gestured around the town. “The closer to the Furwraiths building, the faster the transformation. The further away, the slower. However, all changed within a matter of minutes.”

“The whole town?” I asked grimly, fearing I knew the answer, but wanting to be sure as I looked around again.

“Everyone here. None were spared. Men and women, and any children, if any were here. Though I saw none in the few days I was here.” She shrugged sadly. “After that it was simple; they fled into the nearby forest, howling and crying. Then the Furwraiths descended and did as they pleased. Then they left, save for the three you fought.”

“So, a combination of weapons test and pillaging.” I muttered, looking around.

“Wonderful.” I growled, before I frowned.

“I wonder why those three stayed?” I mused aloud, looking around in idle curiosity, now satisfied that my horse and belongings were all together. I grabbed a cloth and began cleaning my sword, once again happy I’d kept the blade from the army.

“They used their device again, on that train vehicle that pulled into town this morning, about two hours before you arrived.” She answered with a shrug. “They seemed happy with their situation, and were content to leave me to starve in the corral.”

I blinked, then looked at her in confusion. “Couldn’t you have left whenever you wanted?” I asked, confused. I was very annoyed by the mention of the train and its crew being victims as well. That meant my plans were going to have to change.

Again.

“They were amused at my being there, and best I could tell, interested that I was immune to their strange device.” She glared back in the general direction of the corpses. “They weren’t willing to let me leave. One was always on guard. And they blasted me with their light many times, to no avail. Fortunately for me. So now, I am very hungry, and very thirsty. Shall we have a meal?”

She gestured to the building in front of us; a saloon and restaurant.

I blinked, surprised, and then started chuckling.

“Sure, why not?”