Coalition of the Damned - 03 (34 page)

“I mean it.” Bill barked.  “And he’s to be buried in his Sunday best.  With his star, his guns, everything.  You understand?”

“I understand Bill.” Doc said.  “But where are you going?”

“I’m gonna find out who done this.” He stepped through the door.  “And if nobody in this god forsaken town will tell me…they deserve the damnation that this kind of evil brings.”

*****

As the burial crew carted the two solid oak coffins out to Li
ttle Hope Missionary Baptist Church, they paused to water the mules.  “Why in hell are we dragging them all the way out here?” the shorter man asked.

“Doc said to.  He wanted them both away from Quitman.  Said he was afraid somebody might defile the grave.” he snor
ted.  “Can you believe that?”

“Are we really gonna line the graves like Doc said?”

“He paid for it, didn’t he?”

“Who’d know the difference?” the little man asked.  “We just pocket the money and tell em we did it!” he smiled, flashing his good tooth.

The larger man stared at him.  “This is a lawman’s coffin and his woman.  His kin is the Marshall.  You really want to risk it?”

The smaller man weighed the risks.  “Aww, hell.”  he cursed.  “Kick them mules on up then.  We ain’t got all day.”

As the two arrived at the cemetery they searched the graveyard for an open area within the fence.  “There ain’t no room in Murphy’s graveyard for more bodies.  What we gonna do with these two?” the smaller man asked.

The larger of the two scratched at his head and shrugged.  “Let me ask the preacher if we can bury them behind the church.  Surely they won’t mind.”

The larger man went in search of the preacher while the smaller man settled in under the shade of a tree and enjoyed the cool breeze.  He had just fallen asleep when he felt a kick at his boot.  “Wake up, Junior.  We got work to do and we’re burning daylight.”

“What?  Who’s there?” he snorted. 

“Preacher man said we can plant these two behind the church.”

The smaller man stretched and yawned.  “Fine, but we ain’t gonna have time to do no fancy lined hole.”

“Yes we are.  Even if’n it takes us two days.  Doc paid for it, so we’s gonna do it.” the larger man said.

“Fine. But that don’t mean I’m gonna like it.” he said as he pulled his shovel out of the cart.

And so it was that Sheriff James Tolbert was buried in unco
nsecrated soil…where his spirit waited for revenge.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemistry. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff’s Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to four and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit him on Facebook.com for news of his upcoming releases.