dug through the small trunk he used to carry his books. She wanted to pester him more, but her head was still pounding. Grumbling in protest, she curled herself into a ball and shut her eyes.
Ben's boots thumped around again, followed by the scraping of a chair along the floor. She could hear the soft sound of turning pages as she tried to go back to sleep. The blood pounding in her ears began to ebb, taking the pain with it. A patch of warm sunlight fell across the bed, and she dozed off.
"What exactly did that creature look like?" Ben's voice cut through the haze of sleep. She whined in reply, but he persisted. "Come on. We need to figure out what it is if we're going to kill it."
"No, we don't," she said. "We just need to shoot it until it stops moving."
"You tried that already, didn't you?"
She didn't answer, hoping that he would give up and go back to his reading. After a few moments, she heard his boots thump on the floor again, and she smiled to herself.
The smile vanished when she felt the sheet disappear. She curled into a tighter ball, opening one eye just wide enough to glare at her husband. The sheet hung from his hand. "Get up, Cora," he said. "We need to work on this."
"I already told you. My plan is to shoot it until it stops moving."
"Worked like a gem yesterday, I hear."
"Sure as hell did," Cora said. "Drove that bastard back down his hole right quick."
"After how many shots?"
"Enough," she replied, rolling on to her other side.
"Cora, stop it." Ben seldom raised his voice, but he did now.
"Who shoved the sand up your craw?" She matched his tone and regretted it as her head throbbed in protest. Lifting a hand to her brow, she continued in a softer voice. "Why is you being so ornery about this?"
"Because it's our job to kill this thing, and we don't know how to do it."
"You still ain't said what's so wrong with my plan."
Ben sighed through his nose. "How many times did you shoot it yesterday?"
"A lot," Cora replied, giving in. There was no deterring him when he got like this. "Six rounds from my Colt and one from my Winchester."
"Where did you hit it?"
"In the head, mostly. Maybe one or two in the chest."
Ben nodded. "So we know this thing ain't an ordinary spook."
"Ain't one we've seen before, but that don't mean it's some kind of super spook."
"Well, I've never heard of anything that can take that many silver bullets to the head and not go home to the devil."
"There was something else, too," Cora said, her face clouding from more than just the hangover. "My sword didn't so much as scratch it. I was all set to chop off one of them spindly arms, but it was like taking a swing at a rock. Just bounced right off."
Ben frowned. "The blessing is still on the blade, ain't it?"
"Of course it is. Father Brown blessed it before we left Dodge, and I ain't killed a damn thing with it since."
"So it resisted a blessed blade?" Ben asked. Cora nodded. "And you still think it's just an ordinary monster?"
"Of course I don't," Cora said. "I just wanted you to shut up so I could get back to sleep."
Ben grinned at her. "You know better than that."
"Hey, a girl can hope, can't she?"
"Only if she's aiming to be disappointed."
"So I reckon it's too much to hope for that you'll go and get me breakfast."
"Yep," Ben replied. He dropped the sheet on the floor and sat back down at the table. He opened his book, crossed his legs, and proceeded to ignore her.
Sighing, Cora tossed her feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. Her eyes closed on their own as her head started pounding with renewed vigor. Her muscles ached now, too, but that's what she got for passing out with her clothes on. Ben had pulled her boots off for her, giving her the trouble of putting them back on. Her fingers fumbled with the leather, refusing to cooperate. She'd have to remember to tell Boots that his rotgut had given her more trouble than she was used to. Knowing him, he would take it as a compliment, and she supposed it was. Most whiskey wouldn't have given her more than a small ache behind the eyes, but Boots's suppliers knew how to distill their liquor.