Summary: A dark and mysterious cave, a whispering pendant, and a ruthless enemy.  It’s just an old legend, right?

**Halloween Story**

Rated: PG-13 for scariness. (Well, sort of) / Word count: 3510

1. Written for the Ponderosa Nightmare Challenge 2012
   Word Prompts: Hero – Sam the bartender, Villian – Bees, Plot Element – Cave

 

The Honey Tomb

Run.

The word echoed through his mind as he stumbled across the forest floor, and Marty picked up his pace. The tree branches whipped about wildly, lashing his face as their gnarled roots seemed to snatch at his legs.

Faster!

“Can’t go any faster. Can’t see. Too dark.” His thoughts were scattered as Marty responded to the voice in his head.

There was no answer other than the sound of rotting leaves rustling in the cold wind. Marty stopped to glance up at the sky. Dark billowing clouds worked to cover any light from the full moon. He was lost, but he wasn’t alone. His enemy was close, he could hear it now.

His breathing was hard and his voice ragged as he cried out. “No, no.”

His plea was covered by the sound of thunder bellowing in the distance—the smell of rain was in the air and . . . something else . . . something . . . sweet.

Marty continued to run, as the lightening cast frightening shadows all around him. He yelled out and his arms flew up to protect his face as the next flash of lightning struck a tree just up ahead. Veering his course away from the flames, he headed higher up the mountain.

The voice continued to whisper inside his mind. Keep going. You’re almost there.

Marty felt his heart begin to thud as he plunged ahead in the darkness. Moments later he began to stumble as the rain started to pour, creating a watery slope on the jagged trail. He scrambled as he frantically grabbed for thorny weeds and twisted roots. A jagged bolt of lightning crashed into a large boulder to his left and he jumped. Losing his balance he fell onto his back and slid down the trail until finally, he tumbled over a hidden ledge.

The breath was knocked from his lungs as his body hit the hard ground and, with an agonized cry, he grabbed at his twisted leg. He could taste the blood trickling down from his forehead into his mouth, and he looked up as he wiped at his eyes. A flash of lightening in the distance illuminated the entrance to what looked to be a small cave.

Come in. Hurry.

Marty hesitated. Something wasn’t right—he could feel it. This was too easy, almost as if . . . as if he’d been led here. He winced and covered his ears as the earth shook with the loudest crack of thunder he’d ever heard and then, suddenly, the rain stopped. Marty slowly uncovered his eyes, his heart racing inside his chest. A small sliver of moonlight had broken through the clouds and was shining on the entrance.

“No, I . . . I won’t go,” he whimpered.

He struggled to stand, biting his lip against the searing pain in his leg, then turned away from the cave. Before he’d even taken a step he heard them, and he froze as an icy chill swept up his spine.

They’re here.

“No, Oh Lord, no!” But the sounds were growing louder.

He covered his ears as if to will away the terror coming toward him, but he heard the noise even in his mind. He couldn’t escape. Desperately, he turned back to the cave.

Come in.

Marty hesitated for a moment then gasped as he felt the first tiny sting, and without wasting another minute, he started toward the entrance. Each step produced pure agony, but he knew nothing could be worse than what was behind him. He was wrong. Moments after he entered the cave it seemed to come alive around him, humming, whirring, stinging, and the smell—that sickeningly sweet odor overwhelmed him and he brought his hands up to mouth as the bile rose in his throat.

In the darkness of the night, no one heard his screams . . .

Sam had told this story so many times before, always enjoying the looks of pure terror on the faces of his audience.

Little Joe’s eyes followed the bartender as he began to wipe down the countertop, but his mind was far away, once again playing out the story Sam had just told him. After a moment he blinked a couple of times and shook his head then turned to Hoss who was sitting next to him. The bigger man was still looking a little pale. The two brother’s eyes met and then they got up and approached the bar.

“Yer not sayin’ that there story is true, are ya, Sam?” Hoss asked with a gulp.

“’Course it’s true,” he answered, “I don’t tell tales, you know that. ‘Sides, everybody knows old Marty was last seen up in the hills near that old cave, and that place is haunted if ever there was one. All the search party found the next day were a couple of footprints, and this here pendant.”

Little Joe stared in wide-eyed wonder at the small trinket Sam held out to him. The small ornament glistened in the candlelight. It looked to Joe to be in the shape of a bee. Sam withdrew the pendant as Little Joe reached for it, and placed it back under the bar counter.

“Aw, come on, Sam,” Little Joe guffawed. “I’ve heard that old legend about the cave being guarded by swarms of killer bees, but Hoss and I don’t go for stuff like that.” He slapped a hand around his brother’s broad shoulders, and was surprised when Hoss shrugged it off.

“Joseph, whatever you’re thinkin’, and I’m pretty sure I know what it is, just leave me out of it. I don’t want nothing to do with gold, haunted caves, and . . .” Hoss swallowed hard, “voices, and noises and such.”

“Gold? What’s he talkin’ about Joe?” Sam asked hitching a thumb in Hoss’s direction.

“What I’m talkin’ about is . . .”

Hoss’s words grew muffled as Little Joe quickly placed a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t pay him any attention, Sam,” Joe said as he pushed Hoss away from the bar. “He’s just had a bit too much to drink is all. Thanks for the tale. We’ll be seein’ you around.”

Sam chuckled and watched as the two Cartwright brothers made their way through the batwing doors.

“Hey, Sam.” The bartender turned as a young cowhand approached the counter.

“Howdy, Cody,” he said. “You and Hoss have any luck getting them strays rounded up?”

Sam had met Cody a few days after Adam had hired him over six months ago. The young man had fit right in on the ranch and had pretty much attached himself to Little Joe’s side.

“Nah, no luck,” Cody answered. “We followed them all the way up into hill country, but it started gettin’ dark. I’m goin’ out to look for ‘em again tomorrow.”

Sam leaned across the bar as he wiped down a glass with a cloth. “What do you know about Little Joe goin’ up to that old cave? Why’s he so keen on it?”

Cody responded to Sam’s conspiratorial question and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Someone told him that cave’s chalk full of gold, that’s why.”

The bartender pursed his lips and continued vigorously rubbing a persistent spot on a large beer mug.

“Sam, why don’t you let me have that pendant?” Cody asked holding out his open hand. “I’ve got in mind a good trick I can play on Little Joe.”

Sam pulled out the pendant and rubbed it with his fingertips as he eyed the young boy warily. “You gonna try to keep him from goin’ up there?” he asked.

“If what I have in mind works out, he won’t want to go near that old cave,” Cody answered with a grin.

“Well, all right then.” Sam handed over the trinket and watched as Cody stuffed it into his pocket. “But mind you be careful,” he added as Cody turned to leave. “That pendant is cursed.”

“Now, Sam. You and I don’t believe in no curses.” Cody gave the bartender a wink and then grabbing his hat strode out the door.

Sam watched him leave, then pouring himself a glass of whisky, quickly downed the amber liquid. With controlled measure he picked up another beer mug and resumed wiping away the stains.

Cody burst quickly through the bunkhouse door, sprinted to his bunk, then tossed his hat on the bed and reached for his necktie. The Cartwrights had invited him up to the main house for supper that night and if he didn’t hurry he was going to be late. At almost the last second he remembered the pendant and with a chuckle he took it out and stuffed it under his pillow. Then with a quick comb and a wash he headed up to the house.

The evening proceeded pleasantly and Cody was enjoying the time he was spending with his employers. Their easy conversation and friendly banter almost made him feel like he used to back home when he was a kid.

“Would you pass the biscuits please?” Cody asked and then ignored the chuckles that came along with his request.

“Guess you really enjoy Hop Sing’s cookin’, huh?” Little Joe asked him.

Cody smiled shyly and took two more of the hot fluffy biscuits. He’d already had three and he would have loved to have a half a dozen more, but he didn’t want to abuse the Cartwright’s hospitality.

“Cody,” Ben said as he handed the young man a small jar. “You’ve got to try some of this honey. It’s some of Sam’s special batch.”

“Not too much though,” Joe warned. “That stuff’s sweet enough to knock your socks off.”

Cody took a small dollop and tried it with a bite of the hot flaky bread.

“That’s amazing,” he mumbled around the food in his mouth then flushed as the other men started laughing. He finished swallowing before he continued. “Where does he get it? I’ve never tasted honey like that before.”

Adam reached for the water pitcher and refilled his glass as he answered. “No one knows. It’s Sam’s secret and he guards it . . . viciously.”

“Ah, Sam don’t have a vicious bone in his entire body,” Hoss guffawed. “He just don’t want nobody else gettin’ in on his money makin’ enterprise.”

A few minutes later the topic turned to the missing cattle that Cody and Hoss had been searching for. It was only two head of beef that were missing, but these two were special. They were from a new line the Cartwrights were trying to introduce into their herds and they would be expensive to replace.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mr. Cartwright,” Cody said later that night on his way out the door. “I’ll find them for you first thing tomorrow.”

Cody leisurely made his way back to the bunkhouse. Most of the other hands had turned in early as was usual and he was careful not to disturb any of them. He took off his shirt and pants and hung them on the bed post then stretched out wearily on the firm mattress. He grabbed for his pillow to pull under his head and his hand brushed against something cold. Taking out the small pendant he sat up, deposited it in the pocket of his trousers, and then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning Cody woke to the noise of the other hands getting ready for the day.

“Come on, cowboy, rise and shine,” one of the hands said jostling his leg roughly. “Havin’ dinner with the big bosses doesn’t excuse you from your work.”

Cody sat up crossly and reached for his shirt. He groaned loudly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then let his head fall into his hands. He had a splitting headache. He continued to get ready, moving much slower than he had the night before. Everything seemed to be hurting his head. The light, the voices, the noise . . . yes, there was a faint noise in the background, like a whirring. It was nonstop and aggravating the heck out of him.

“Hey, Cody!” One of the hands yelled mere inches from his face. “Didn’t ya hear me? I said let’s get a move on.”

Cody scowled at the older man as he shoved his way past. “I hear ya, I hear ya.”

Things got progressively worse when Cody sat down to breakfast at the long wooden table. The conversations around him had never seemed so loud or so obnoxious. He tried eating a couple bites of food but for some reason everything tasted sweet, too sweet. The final straw came when one of the men laughed loudly and clapped him on the back. Without even thinking Cody stood and decked the man hard enough to send him to the floor, then before anyone could respond he dashed out the door. Now he stood gasping for breath in front of the corrals. He winced as Hoss came up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Mornin’, Cody. Pa wants me and Little Joe to go over and look at a strand of trees for a new contract he’s workin’ on. How about you and I head out after those cattle right after lunch?”

“No need,” Cody answered, shaking off Hoss’s hand. “I can go by myself.”

“You sure? I can go with ya just not this mornin’.”

Cody roughly grabbed his saddle off the rail. “I said I can do it by myself. Don’t need no nursemaid,” he mumbled as he stalked off toward his horse.

“Dad-burn, aggravatin’,” Cody continued talking to himself as he rode to the spot where they had stopped tracking the cattle the day before.

Need to get away.

“Who said that?” Cody asked, whipping around in his saddle. The sudden movement almost made him heave and he broke out in a cold sweat as he rubbed at his throbbing temple.

They’re coming.

Cody slowly dismounted and looked around anxiously. “Who’s comin’?” he demanded aloud.

Listen.

Cody whirled around, looking for the voice and ripped his gun from its holster. His horse whinnied frantically and backed away from him. Cody made a lunge for the frightened animal but it turned and bolted. In his anger he cocked the gun and aimed for his horse. He was about to fire when the whirring in his head suddenly grew louder. Dropping his gun he grabbed the sides of his head.

“Make it stop,” he cried out.

Get away.

“How?”

This way.

Cody looked up and saw a steep path working its way
crookedly up the side of the mountain. He took a step toward the path and the whirring grew quieter. He continued climbing for about half an hour before his stomach began to unclench and the pounding in his head subsided. Feeling much better and beginning to think clearly he turned around to head back down the mountain to look for his horse. He had only walked a couple of feet when the whirring began to grow louder again, and the throbbing in his head reappeared. He tried to continue walking but the pain intensified to the point where he fell to his knees in agony.

“Stop. Please stop,” he cried. His eyes darted around frantically until they rested on a bee buzzing around a sagebrush, he then watched in alarm as another bee appeared and then another. One of them flew toward him and stung him on the back of his neck.

Run.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Cody leapt to his feet and began frantically climbing the hill. The bees were right behind him. He could hear them and the noise was almost deafening. The path grew steeper and more jagged the higher he got and his boots were continuously slipping on the loose rocks. He desperately groped along the ground for a handhold, finding none. He lost his footing as a large rock gave way beneath him and began sliding back down, his stomach scraping painfully across the tops of the sharp rocks, and then he tumbled over the side of a ledge he hadn’t seen on the way up. His breath was knocked from his lungs as he landed hard on his back and he lay panting for several minutes. For a brief moment he considered just staying where he was, surely someone would come looking for him, but then he heard it. The incessant whirring and buzzing of what surely must have been thousands of bees. Rolling over he called on all his inner strength and heaved himself up. That’s when he saw it. A small hole that looked to be carved into the side of the mountain.

Come in.

Cody felt his stomach tighten as he looked at the cave, and he took a step toward it. A warning bell sounded in the back of his mind but it was soon drowned out by the sound of his enemy.

They’re here. Hurry.

Cody staggered slowly toward the cave, but it wasn’t until he felt the tiny pinpricks of fire on his arms that he started to run. He stumbled headlong into the dark cave and blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the blackness surrounding him. Finally, the sunlight illuminated the cavern enough for him to see, and he gasped in horror. He had found the cattle he was after. Cody began to retch uncontrollably, at the sight of the two mangled carcasses combined with the overpowering smell of sweetness. It was then he realized the predicament he was in. He had just walked into the largest hive of bees that he had ever seen. Before his brain could get the signal to his legs to run he found himself surrounded by thousands of angry bees. They began stinging him everywhere, he tried to run but he couldn’t see. He had just opened his mouth to scream when suddenly two strong arms wrapped around him, carrying him outside of the cave.

“Hurry, over here,” came a familiar voice.

Cody’s eyes were already swollen shut from the bee stings and he had no choice but to allow himself to be led. A few moments later the stench of smoke filled his nostrils and he could feel the bees falling off his body.

“Hold still now,” the voice said. “I’ve got some salve. Here, drink this.”

Cody coughed as the strong liquor slid down his throat, but he was grateful for the numbness it produced.

Later that night, Cody winced as someone reached out and took his hand. The doctor had spent countless hours removing the venomous stingers, and every inch of his body hurt beyond measure.

“Sorry,” he heard Little Joe say as he released his hand. “The doctor says it will be a while before you can talk, but I wanted you to know that I’m here.”

Cody moved his lips as he tried to answer, but Little Joe was right, he wasn’t going to be able to ask the question that was hounding him so badly for quite a while.

Who?

It was years later on a warm spring day that Little Joe set out to meet his brothers in the field where they would be working. He, Adam, and Hoss spent hours poring over plans for a new mill and then began working to set up the markers. Little Joe dropped his large rock in its spot and was turning to go for another when something shiny lying in the grass caught his eye. Bending down he picked up the pendant.

“Well, I’ll be,” he said to himself. It had been years since he’d thought about old Sam. The man had disappeared suddenly and without a trace. The town gossips had stories ranging from a sudden inheritance to the man’s murdered corpse lying somewhere in an unmarked grave.

“Guess we’ll never know,” Little Joes said as he dropped the trinket into his pocket, then turned his attention back to his work.

The next morning, across a shallow creek a bee buzzed around the carcass of a dead bird. Soon it was joined by another and then another. Finally, one of them turned and started toward a small meadow where the busy sound of a hammer rang. A hammer swung by a man wearing a green jacket . . .

Run.

 

The End