one?”
War Bonnet advanced, and Holliday drew his gun and fired three times, placing a bullet in each of the monstrous Indian's eyes and one in his forehead. They didn't bounce off, but instead seemed to be absorbed into his massive head, doing no damage. War Bonnet roared his rage and continued approaching.
“Thanks for all your fucking help,” muttered Holliday under his breath as he prepared to be torn limb from limb by the approaching behemoth.
“Your skin will shrivel and your bones will melt, Holliday,” roared War Bonnet, reaching out to him. “You will live only a few seconds, but they will be the most agonizing seconds any man has ever suffered.”
Holliday fired three more shots into War Bonnet's chest, then reached for the pistol in his lapel as the monster reached out a blazing hand for him.
Holliday tensed, and prepared to suffer exactly as War Bonnet had predicted, but instead the insubstantial blazing fingers passed right through him.
“Shit!” said Holliday. “They're not even warm!”
War Bonnet cursed, beat his chest like a bull gorilla, and tried once again to grab Holliday. He terrified the horse, who started bucking and squealing, forcing Holliday to hold on to the saddle horn with both hands, but the monster was completely unable to make physical contact with him.
Finally he backed off, glaring at Holliday, who used the opportunity to dismount before he was thrown off.
“Well, Fred, Joe, Tom and Johnny, and whoever else is in there, what now?” he said, starting to reload his gun as the horse calmed down.
War Bonnet wasn't done yet. He lifted his massive foot high and brought it down on Holliday's head—and this time, instead of passing through him, the foot bounced off, and Holliday could tell from his face that he was in pain.
“I take it all back,” he whispered. “You were right.”
War Bonnet spent the next five minutes alternately trying to burn, grab, hit, and kick Holliday, but to no avail. Then he spotted a massive rock, weighing perhaps a thousand pounds, on the ground a few yards away. He walked over to it, lifted it with ease, held it aloft, and approached Holliday, who eyed him very nervously, since unlike War Bonnet himself, the rock was not magical and was solid and real.
But as War Bonnet drew closer, he began straining, the veins stood out on his neck, and his arms started trembling. Finally he could walk no farther but stopped and dropped the rock onto the ground, where it landed with an audible thud.
“Are you getting tired of this yet?” asked Holliday.
War Bonnet glared at him, and lifted the rock again. Once more it was apparent that he could barely hold it aloft, and Holliday fired two quick shots into him to see if his weakness had spread to his invulnerability, but they had no more effect than before. Then the huge Indian turned his back to Holliday, and Holliday could see that he was no longer straining. With a scream of rage, War Bonnet hurled the massive rock some fifty yards away.
“Do not smile at me, Holliday!” roared War Bonnet, turning back to him.
“Oh, call me Doc, now that we're not going to be killing each other,” said Holliday, still smiling.
“Your days are numbered,” vowed War Bonnet.
“I've heard that before,” said Holliday. “Usually it's come from men who could at least draw blood.”
“It is true that I cannot kill you,” said War Bonnet in his deep, thunderous voice. “I have been created for one purpose, and one purpose only: to kill the invader Roosevelt and the turncoat Goyathlay.”
“I wish you the same luck with them that you had with me,” said Holliday.
“It is true that I cannot kill you,” repeated War Bonnet. “But there is one who can, and he shall be my surrogate.”
“You know words like ‘surrogate’?” said Holliday. “I'm impressed. Now why don't you shamble off to whatever hell you came from and forget about all this?”
“How little you know,” said War Bonnet. “You, Roosevelt, and Goyathlay are all doomed, corpses who do not yet know you are dead.”
“Are you guys inside this clown going to send another ugly creature here to scare me to death?” asked Holliday.
Suddenly War Bonnet vanished. Holliday looked around, but knew that something that big couldn't hide on this barren, featureless landscape. He waited a moment, then walked to the side of his horse, pulled down his canteen, and had two quick swallows of whiskey.
And as quickly as he vanished, War Bonnet returned, standing exactly where he had