“I’m telling you that we were just attacked by a pack of zombies,” gasped Jed, pointing to the haunted house entrance behind them while breathing heavily. “I was nearly killed, but Mule saved my ass once again,” he huffed and puffed, unable to think clearly.

“Awe shucks it ain’t nothing for a creature of my kind to perform continuous miracles,” preached Mule, whacking at a swarm of bugs that had gathered in the frigid night air with his tail.

The talking donkey had discovered discarded chicken nuggets on the ground and began to feast on the snake. This seemingly normal looking creature blended in with an identical looking farm animal in the background until it paused in the slop basket to open its mouth again. ““It’s an honest job of keeping humans alive alright” it paused, licking leftover ketchup off its snout before spitting out a smoldering ash tray. “If you Jed an especially tough man for one and still frail as a chicken shit bag of bones in the end,”.

“Ahem sorry to interrupt your chat boys but are the two of you sure it just wasn’t just a very convincing but ultimately fake haunted house illusion?” inquired Bessie, leisurely putting vegetables into the cargo hold of her family owned chuck wagon.

“I'm positive it was real zombies in there dear,” he said, becoming agitated.

She bent over the register. “The haunted attractions here have some of the best witches and wizards in showbusiness working to scare you silly with allusions,” she laughed, popping open the tray of the cash register and making a loud jingle for change.

Jed returned to Mule, well one of his eyes didn't stray anyway. Meanwhile Bessie was stuffing the farmstand profits in her exposed stockings. With that task completed she began fishing around in the cloth around her bosom hunting for other objects.

“Woah,” whispered Jed, looking with both eyes again.

“Bang,Bang!” said the flashing chrome emerging out from her breasts.

The dead body she had just blasted hit the dirt. It folded and quivered on the ground right behind the man still looking around dumbly holding an ear that rang like a broken amp.

“Get your wallet back before another thief tries his luck on a sober man that could often pass off as inebriated..” she said, blowing smoke off the barrel of a tiny little pistol. She shoved it back into bra, and raised a rugged uni-brow.“But Jed you are right in wanting to leave now that night is upon us the riff raff really comes out after closing time,”.

“Ahh yeah I’ve gotten soft to almost let myself get robbed damn,” said Jed, thinking aloud while he pried his own wallet from another cold dead hands, and gave himself a pat down to check everything else was home.

The action surrounding them intensified as yells in a nearby tent as a drunken brawl broke out among the bingo players. A helpless man was dragged down an extended table collecting every game board and splinter in his path. Then another shit talker had his fingers wedged through broken glass where they bleed onto the numbered balls that still spun.

“Mule you're up to haul the chuck wagon again I hope,” said Bessie, popping open one of her many clothing trunks for a change.

She quickly clipped field tested overalls over her festive pumpkin dress.Then a plaid checkered extra large shirt.

“Nice beaver skin you there,” said Mule, winking while nuzzling the corpse, knocking off the hat exposing a clay dome.

“Huh a Slyman,” he growled, drawing backwards.

The slain creature rose from the ashes where purple brain matter had leaked from its head. The bullets were pushed out of their entrances and shortly all of its matter had spilled away into the shadows. Mule licked up something that tasted of space dust. His curiosity was cut short, but his brain still buzzed as the country western swing band cut short their instrumental in a nearby tent. A head was smashed through a table, but the final insult was a bottle of cheap gin cracked open across the noggin.

“Yeah it’s getting ugly out here alright,” said Jed.

“Hey” whistled Bessie, revealing two lever action rifles from a hidden compartment in the trunk underneath the clothes. “Here catch partner,” she said while tossing one.

“Why aren’t you a smuggler's daughter,” laughed Jed, catching his midair.

“Wham!”

The nearby brawl had rippled through the cheap tent with an equally cheap punch. A man lay limp in a horse trough. His friend was still standing but stabbed. Jed and Bessie both aimed at the commotion.

“Only get what’s absolutely necessary here,” whispered Jed.

“We will leave the rest of the vegetables for the rats,” she said, lifting the heaving trunk onto her back.

“Hey wait a second lets do this smart thing here and stack trucks on top of each other while we both carry either end,” suggested Jed.

“With each one hand free to shoot,” she finished, plopping the first trunk on the ground.

There were five trunks total in five sizes which all ended up stacked pretty high. They slowly worked along the gravel of the fairway hanging onto the biggest trunk handles on bottom. The items wiggled in the wind slowly traveled to a crawl in order to keep them balanced, but they managed to make it.

“I’ve got myself strapped onto the chuck wagon or I would help carry” announced Mule, as they approached him.

“This is the hardest part unloading,” stated Bessie, working on coaching the top crate down onto the wagon.

This pristine chuck wagon had been long ago built by her grandfather. It was modeled after his army units, and mostly stored underground in a makeshift garage of a buried repurposed fuel container. However every holiday season the festive vehicle would emerge from the ground to carry their root vegetables between fairs. This was the first of many festivals scheduled on their calendar with their farm-stand at the spooky fair.. She and her farmhand placed the last container from this one into the cargo hold. She wondered to herself if this would be the last of his and his magical mules help.

“C’mon slowpokes lets go,” yelled Mule, impatiently stamping down his hooves while he trotted in place.

“Ayah Mule I grant your wish lets be off at once,” shouted Bessie, wrangling the reins in the front seat.

The chuck wagon was off lurching forward through potholes. Jed fell back into the stack of trunks he had just finished strapping down face first.

“You guys are going to snap an axle if you keep running straight into those holes,” hollered Jed.

“You don’t have to backseat drive me,” yelled Mule.

“Jed is right, Mule. You slow your roll on this bumpy road.. You don't break my family heirloom, this was handcrafted by my late grandfather ill smack you,” she scolded.

“Yes ma’am I wouldn’t dare ruin a thing on this ride, I can assure you my driving record is centuries long and yet spotless, and my insurance is at the highest levels of awesomeness”.

They hit a bump causing Jed to be reunited with the trunks at full force.

“Ooof,” he said as the air escaped his chest.

Bessie gripped the handles of the wagon that jolted around.

“Mule slows the farc down,” she said sternly.

The wagon slowed to a crawl at the gate of the fairground parking lot. There was a line of vehicles slowly trickling outside. A group of men gathered around an idling minivan holding lanterns. Something was smashed through the front window as the loud crowd erupted onto the vehicle with baseball bats and sledgehammers. Jed drew his rifle until he spotted all the spray paint tagging up the vehicle.

“Beat the van is a holiday institution in these parts,” laughed Bessie, pointing to a man holding up a part he had just severed from the engine compartment. “Any submitted vehicle that doesn’t make the demolition derby for whatever reason is fair game watch 'em go now,”. She hollered, raising a fist.

The mob gathering round the vehicle's carcass cleared as a screaming man charged forward waving a boulder wildly above his head. The van's roof was dunked on collapsing by a haggard looking individual wearing a wife-beater and smoking a cigarette in the process. His audience of pregnant girlfriends erupted into cheers as they watched on the rocks. A fire was started in the backseat of the next demolition derby reject. .

Jed climbed into the passenger seat of the chuck wagon next to Bessie. The truck in front of them was hauling a trailer full of mooing cattle through the narrow corridor flanked by fencing. After that there were three more vehicles crawling around after that and they were out.

“Hopefully there’s no more hang ups here,” said Jed, knocking on the wooden seat three times for good luck.

“You should have stayed in the cargo hold Jed, we actually need to hide these I almost forgot.. Actually here take the reins and I’ll take that,” she finished by disarming him.

Bessie climbed into the backseat with both guns. Jed turned to where the cattle in front of them were being checked over by two men in uniform. One held a light and the other a clipboard he checked numbers against the tags clipped to the animals ears. There was a clicking thump in the backseat as a secret compartment was opened. The men in front reemerged from the trailer and latched the door before shouting to the driver in the lifted pickup.

“All set!”.

“Ok it’s our turn,” said Bessie climbing back into the driver's seat.

“This is gonna be an easy inspection to pass,” said Mule confidently strutting forward.

Jed kept his eyes on the road while a security guard flagged them down. Another man in uniform ran beside the coach boards.

“You've been selling grub?” he asked.

“Vegetable license,” said Bessie flashing a laminated badge from her purse.

“Right my men are just going to have a quick look to make sure nothing on here has been stolen,” said the guard.

“Have at it,” said Bessie cheerfully motioning towards the back.

“You her husband?” asked the guard, pointing at Jed.

“Uhmnn..”

“Yes he is, and this is our mule hauling in the front,” said Bessie.

“I see,” said the guard, raising his eyebrows.

There was a commotion in the back as a trunk had been recklessly opened spilling out clothes. Bessie turned and her face went red like her lipstick. The guard next to them blushed a darker shade while her eyes pierced him like daggers.

“Boys stuff those away at once..erm sorry mam,” he stammered looking away in shame.

“You fellas are too rough, we ain't done nothing to deserve this,” she wept tears into a flower embroidered handkerchief. .

“Ok you lot can go on through,” said the guard waving.

The rest of the men had climbed from the back and joined him at the side. They walked to the next vehicle in line on autopilot. The party left on their chuck wagon peeling onto the asphalt that had been plowed of snow.

“Heyaaa let’s ride!” screamed Bessie.

“Lady, you played them like a fiddle back there,” said Jed.

“One thing about me boy, I've got survival instinct over pride,” she laughed.

The road they traveled ran beside a shuttered mill, and a creek. The boards of the small bridge they crossed had been aged to bleached white, and creaked. The wolves howled in the distance while the air blew in cold snowflakes underneath two crescent moons slim enough to be unable to form a single hole even if pieced together. The river lay undercover of snow and ice while the road wrapped around a covered ancient abandoned stone structure.

Later on the ground returned to deep ruts in the mud covered with snow and ice that broke. The wagon wheels slurped through muddy soup underneath threatening to sink with every rotation forward. For now she was still rolling steady over broken cat tails of the frozen marsh. An owl hooted as it perched in a hollowed out pear tree that had never bore fruit before the life had been leached from it in a drought. The corpse of a crocodile had frozen too hard for the attached and frustrated turkey vulture's beak to pierce.

“Would you fetch my puffer jacket back there Jed?” Bessie asked.

“Of course and I should have given you mine off my back long ago,” said Jed, climbing over the seat.

“Nonsense you are too nice.. just get mine now thanks,” she laughed.

Mules nostrils blew hot steam while the two light crystals fastened in the front of the wagon provided plenty of light. He worked to navigate the difficult terrain. The darkness ahead gave way revealing a steep hill covered in blow-downs. The difficulty of this trek was getting harder. Mule took on a good pace to keep a jog the entire way up, but it would be a close call if they would make the farm tonight before he would pass out.

“Mule, why don’t you slow down a bit to let us walk beside you in order to lighten the load,” said Jed.

“Right, good idea and you are welcome to stay put if you like princess,” said Mule, blowing a kiss to the rear.

“Alright Jed ill walk with you,” Bessie interjected.

“Sounds good let's get off around this corner…” said Jed, climbing to the back of the speeding vehicle.

“Now easy Mule there’s no rush if we can save some of your strength for emergencies, you do have some limits,” Bessie assured, while pulling on the reins with full force.

“Ok fine… FAAAAARC!” yelled Mule, putting his foot down.

A roadkill had littered the road of a massive mutant moose. A pack of wolves had gathered around for an all you could eat buffet on the torn off tender flesh of the moose's freaky elephant trunk.

The chuck wagon slammed to a stop throwing both occupants from either side. Jed jumped through the air a treetop flier before shooting over a small frozen pond and landing on his feet with a headache. Bessie landed face first into a snowbank. She picked her black and blue face out of the slush. The sharp sensation of pain finally set in as she looked down to discover her leg impaled all the way through by a sharp piece of wood.

“Get the guns!”.

“Roger,” said Jed, jumping back into the backseat of the chuck wagon.

His fingers frantically scoured the wood-grain for secret springs, leavers, or other forms of key-less entry. The dead trees bent threatening to snap as a fierce gust of bone chilling winter air blew into the area. Under one spruce whose limbs had dried while the snow weighed heavily frosted on top a limb broke sending a chute of falling snow. There a dozen red beady eyes cut through the darkness looking for blood. A guttural growling echoed throughout the area. A totem glowed buried under the snow illuminating a pack of muscled wolves. Their fur coats glistened as they darted out of the light. They chased the smell of injured prey across the way where Bessie lay still stun locked from the impact.

“Jed the wolves are coming and if I decide to shapeshift I won’t have the strength to climb for days,” brayed Mule.

“Aha I'm a genius” screeched Jed, throwing his fists to the air in celebration.

After playing a game of Simon says with the drink compartments, and a plastic cup he had won access to the vehicles main weapon locker. Jed slung the lever action rifle on his back, and cradled another in his arms like a baby as his boots climbed onto the ice.

“Mule I trust you can stay safe, if it comes down to it material objects can always be replaced,” yelled Jed as he charged into the underbrush with haste.

“Ayah captain you know I'm always a pro in the face of grave danger,” said Mule, chewing on smoked meat from the also unlocked pantry.

Jed sprinted forward into the darkness. Bessie lay as quiet as she could manage nursing an injured leg. The wind blew hair into her face, and her scent into the noses of the hungry animals heading inbound to feast. They howled in premature celebration.

“Bang,Bang,Bang!”.

“Yelp!”.

A wolf was cracked in the back of its spine with a bullet. It tumbled underneath a mess of tree branches to finish dying unseen. Bessie had managed to free her impaled leg with great determination; she continued lifting off the spike despite the pain. She limped forward as wolves leaped out of the underbrush in attack mode.

“Bang,Bang,Bang!”.

Jed’s gun ran throughout the dark treeline briefly illuminating him after every shot. The wolves he shot at darted between the knotted spruce that bore his bullets like hornets. There must have been hundreds of them.

“Come hunt me dogs not Bessie damn it,” he yelled, eyes frantically searching for areas they were not able to see in the dark. He continued trudging through the snow that was in danger of growing neck deep. Nearby Bessie held onto her bleeding leg with one hand while fishing underneath her fur coat with the other. A wolf snarled with impatient hunger as it drew in with teeth ready to rip and tear at dinnertime. It was close enough to be overpowered by its filthy wild animal odor.

“BANG!.BANG!.BANG!”

She began blasting her massive big iron revolver 18 inches long. The attacking wolf was riddled with bullets tearing out the other side. The sound of the shooting was so loud a shower of snow was knocked from the trees blowing messed up flakes all around. All the icicles previously littered the fir trees like holiday ornaments until they shot downwards on command of the roar of the echoing big iron shots. The pack yelped away on the retreat as the storm chilled their backsides.

“Bessie that’s you alive I hope,” yelled Jed emerging from the freshly cleared branches into the clearing.

A blizzard was brewing into the area. The shadow of her feminine figure limped towards him.

“Yeah I'm fine,” she announced, holstering the big gun to inspect her injuries for the first time after the battle.

“Your bleeding,” said Jed, approaching her with a face full of concern.

“Never-mind partner, you focus on shooting more of these wild dogs that surround us before we catch rabies,” her loud gun started blasting again, cutting off her voice for now.

Jed couldn't help spot that she had ripped off some more of her clothing to tie around the wounded leg. The sound of howling intensifying in the distance reminded them of their original objective.

“Oh shit we are gonna lose our load to the wolves,” screeched Bessie limping forward.

“It’s alright Mule is seemingly invincible as far as I have observed,” said Jed, aiming to the

“What do you think he really is?.. Something we can trust and not a parasite?” she inquired, while traversing over a fallen log.

“A fool and a horse's ass that might just be the child of something alien, but he means well I entirely trust my life on it,” Jed replied, reloading his bolt action from a pouch built into his leather jacket.

“Alright let's boogie on back to the wagon,” she said, doubling her limp. “Say sir, do you happen to be a knight, suppose I never asked..” she inquired.

“Why yes I’ve been knighted a long while now,” replied Jed, double checking the safety was on as he ran ahead.

Back up the bend Mule whistled an ancient folk melody to himself while he waited for his friend's return. A pair of wolves emerged with stomachs growing into the clearing.

“Well shoot, how about you two take something already cooked?” pleaded Mule.

The wolves stopped to seemingly consider the offer. What acted like the alpha among them began to howl, drawing in a dozen more blood red eyes with the call for food. Another wolf snapped at the false alpha howler who yipped away with an injured ego as the rest advanced for supper.

At the treeline a volley of projectiles greeted the advancing predators sending them running for the hills. Bessie ducked while reloading her guns, while Jed took his turn. The remaining wolf pack continued to howl.. The chuck wagon lurched forward quickly gaining speed ahead while beginning to climb the steep hill. The pack of wolves followed their dinner barking while leaving a trail of drool behind them to melt the snow. Jed and Bessie trailed in the rear shooting at dark shadows. They quickly found themselves left behind to rapidly dropping temperatures.