Part Thirty Four: Abysmal Mine Once again the old gunslinger found himself pursuing his own special kind of enemy flag carrier through the dank, dark, bowels of the earth. It slowly dawned on him that he was now in almost the exact same position that he was in when he had first started his journey all those many months ago. The abandoned mine ran deep under the mountains, and without a torch or any other source of significant light it was growing increasingly hard for Caleb to find his way through the ever confusing maze of tunnels. He still had no idea how long it had taken for him to dig himself out of the snow, but as time went on a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach started to tell him that the Cultist was probably going to get away after all. To have been so close and yet at the same time so far was maddening. He was still in many ways lucky though; he had now confirmed that the scroll was indeed where he thought it was, that the gargoyles were no longer necessarily a threat to him, and that by doing all of this he was actually going in the right direction for once. He had still not encountered any sign of the fleeing Cultist however, and to make matters worse he was now also beginning to feel as if he were being followed again. The same creeping sensation began to appear on the back of his neck, and he had to constantly stop himself from taking nervous glances over his shoulder. Whoever it was that was ahead of him on the mountain path must have been surely taken out by the avalanche though. Regular people simply did not recover from such things. Then again, if he himself had managed it, than anyone could. That was not a comforting thought. He suddenly swore that he could hear footsteps approaching from somewhere behind him, and he brought out his sawed-off shotgun and turned around. The longer he waited the less sure he became. Could he have just imagined it? Then something that was definitely not all in his head screeched from somewhere far off over his shoulder. Caleb spun on his heels again in order to face this new threat, already sure of exactly what it was. He had heard that scream often enough before; it was just another Phantasm come to take offence at his continued existence. "Oh, you again..." the old gunfighter observed, really not feeling it this time. "How about coming back in a few more years, preferably after I am already dead?" The spectre only released another bloodcurdling scream in response. Caleb sighed. "I thought as much..." he added, before feeling a sudden burst of wind on his face. He fired both shells at the source of the wind, the flash of the barrels briefly illuminating the Phantasm's skeletal features before blowing the being back again. Caleb rushed forwards and kept on firing whenever he felt the spectre rush towards him, lacking any other effective means of tracking the being's location other than listening to the terrible screams it felt compelled to produce every other moment. In amongst all of this though he could still swear that he could hear once more the footsteps coming from somewhere behind him. It was all getting to be too much. Seeing ahead purely from the light produced from the flashes of his shotgun, he began to get a clearer picture of his surroundings. The Phantasm was only taking marginal damage, Caleb's inability to aim clearly taking its toll on his performance. He had managed to keep the spectre at bay through his almost constant fire, but that would evaporate as soon as his ammunition ran out. Caleb's heart began to beat loudly in his chest. Then he saw in brief glimpses that he was running down a lengthy metal track, and that up ahead there was an empty mining cart lying abandoned on its side. He was by now utterly sick of all this. He was sick of always having to stand his ground, sick of having to look over his shoulder, and sick of being at the centre of everyone's hate. Just this once he would like to simply bow out, blow the joint, and call it a day. In a feat of amazing upper body strength he wrenched the mine cart back to a standing position and slammed it down hard on the winding metal track, hopping inside of it at the end of one long protracted movement. Due to all of the force that was imparted on it the mine cart shot its way forward in the dark almost as if it were a runway train. Caleb fired a few more final warning shots behind him, but not even the Phantasm could could keep up with him at this speed. "I guess this the end of the line for you!" Caleb sneered back, just as the last of its screams faded into the darkness. He was actually making good time now. Now all he had to do was see how long he could keep it up for. Hamish Paul Wilson October 26, 2014