{"id":254547,"date":"2026-07-13T03:38:03","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T00:38:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/blood-in-the-soil-terror-on-the-wind-kenneth-w-cain\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T03:38:03","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T00:38:03","slug":"blood-in-the-soil-terror-on-the-wind-kenneth-w-cain","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/blood-in-the-soil-terror-on-the-wind-kenneth-w-cain\/","title":{"rendered":"Blood In The Soil Terror On The Wind – Kenneth W Cain"},"content":{"rendered":"
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The .44 calibre round skittered away as Bowler Hat leapt awake, the hat tumbling off his head and onto John. \u201cWha\u2014 What is\u2026?\u201d Bowler Hat started. \u201cSorry,\u201d John said, climbing to his feet. He went to hand the hat back when something caught his eye\u2014a flash of movement beneath the man\u2019s bare scalp, like a vein protruding under pressure.<\/p>\n

He dropped the hat on the man\u2019s lap and tightened his grip on the rifle. \u201cWhat the hell are you looking at?\u201d Bowler Hat said, his bald pate red and smooth beneath the flickering kerosene light. The flesh rippled, and John watched as what looked like a hand floated across the man\u2019s skull beneath the skin, vanishing as quickly as it came. He didn\u2019t hesitate, levering a cartridge into the chamber and pressing the muzzle against Bowler Hat\u2019s scalp in one fluid motion.<\/p>\n

The trigger snapped, and Bowler Hat\u2019s head exploded in a spray of blood and bone that painted the table and wall red as the gunshot rang out through the saloon like a canon. The body slumped over, and the chair went with it. Rook\u2019s chair scraped against the hardwood, but the sound was muffled as John\u2019s ears rang from the percussive blast. There was a shout from the bar behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s crazy,\u201d Rook yelled, getting to his feet and backing against the wall. \u201cYou\u2019re crazy. Get that gun from him.\u201d John waited for the hands to climb out of Bowler Hat\u2019s corpse as it drooled syrupy blood on the floor, but nothing happened. His stomach roiled, and his skin became gooseflesh as panic surged through his body. His vision blurred, and images of murder flashed through his mind.<\/p>\n

The muscles in his right arm grew tired at the memory of smashing a broken whisky bottle against his mother-in-law\u2019s head. He could feel the weight of his father-in-law\u2019s body as he impaled it on the weathered picket fence. The claw hammer in Marlee\u2019s skull. Her death, again and again. The wheezing sound of her last breath. A tear down her cheek. Dad\u2026daddy\u2026 How could you? And each time he\u2019d done it alone. Seen them alone. His mind teetered on the brink of madness as he waited for Bowler Hat\u2019s flesh to ripple, for a sign that he hadn\u2019t already tumbled into that fathomless abyss.<\/p>\n

But the saloon was quiet save the bartender\u2019s yell to seize John\u2019s gun, and the cowboy\u2019s heavy footsteps closing in behind him. But there was nothing more except the ringing in his ears and the deafening realization that he had been wrong.<\/p>\n

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\u201cBrilliant stories that drag you screaming into the rotten, turbulent heart of the Old West.\u201d \u2013 Coy Hall, author of The Hangman Feeds the Jackal and Grimoire of the Four Imposters. 1kitap1.com\/en An Anthology Edited by Kenneth W. Cain 1kitap1.com\/en BLOOD IN THE SOIL, TERROR ON THE WIND Copyright 2022 \u00a9 Brigids Gate Press Individual works are copyright \u00a9 2022 by their respective authors and used by permission.<\/p>\n

These stories are works of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in the fictional stories are either products of the author\u2019s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles.<\/p>\n

Edited by Kenneth W. Cain. Cover illustration and design by Chad Lutzke. www.chadlutzke.com\/cover-design.html Formatted by Kenneth W. Cain First Edition: August 2022 ISBN (paperback): 978-1-957537-33-7 ISBN (Kindle ebook): 978-1-957537-32-0 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022943494 BRIGIDS GATE PRESS Bucyrus, Kansas www.brigidsgatepress.com Printed in the United States of America 1kitap1.com\/en Content warnings are provided at the end of this book. 1kitap1.com\/en Table of Contents Introduction by Ronald Kelly \u201cCrimson Noon\u201d by Antonia Rachel Ward \u201cThe Good Doctor\u201d by Nick Kolakowski \u201cSundown Showdown\u201d by Villimey Mist & Damascus Mincemeyer \u201cThe Werechrist\u201d by Jonathan Kemmerer-Scovner \u201cBallad of the Overeager Gun\u201d by Sean Eads & Joshua Viola \u201cThe Owl Witch of the Comancheria\u201d by Craig E Sawyer \u201cAda\u201d by Lana Elizabeth Gabris \u201cHands\u201d by Joel McKay \u201cAs Long as You Feed\u201d by David Niall Wilson \u201cCostumed Mouth\u201d by Ej Sidle \u201cTrade Secrets\u201d by Brennan LaFaro \u201cI Have Seen the Elephant\u201d by Michael Bailey \u201cBoneweaver\u201d by Amanda J Spedding \u201cThe Wound Is Covered\u201d by Taylor Rae \u201cSuffer No Harm\u201d by P.L.<\/p>\n

McMillan \u201cGhost Festival in the Desert\u201d by Wen Wen Yang \u201cThe Patchwork Man\u201d by Ben Monroe \u201cVoodoo Higgies\u201d by Chad Lutzke Afterword by Kenneth W. Cain 1kitap1.com\/en For everyone losing sleep right now, worrying about their future, their rights, the world, our planet\u2026 This one is for you. We see you. We hear you. We stand with you.<\/p>\n

May your candle shine brightly. 1kitap1.com\/en Acknowledgements Thank you, first and foremost to my wife, Heather, who has been my rock, tethering me to reality and keeping me in this chair all these years, doing what I love most. And thank you to Brigids Gate Press, Heather and Steve and our slush readers, for making this project a reality, when it could have been left for dead on the side of this dusty trail.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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