Dead Man's Hand: An Anthology of the Weird West
Language: English
Pages: 464
ISBN: B00MLDT7US
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From a kill-or-be-killed gunfight with a vampire to an encounter in a steampunk bordello, the weird western is a dark, gritty tale where the protagonist might be playing poker with a sorcerous deck of cards, or facing an alien on the streets of a dusty frontier town. Here are twenty-three original tales—stories of the Old West infused with elements of the fantastic—produced specifically for this volume by many of today's finest writers. Included are Orson Scott Card's first “Alvin Maker” story in a decade, and an original adventure by Fred Van Lente, creator of Cowboys and Aliens. Other contributors include Tobias Buckell, David Farland, Alan Dean Foster, Jeffrey Ford, Laura Anne Gilman, Rajan Khanna, Mike Resnick, Beth Revis, Ben H. Winters, Christie Yant, and Charles Yu
stone floated in the clouds was also a mystery. Angels lived there—scrawny girls with wings, ethereal in their beauty. But they were feral creatures, barbaric, and it was said that when the first explorers had entered the silver city, the angels were roosting over the arches—little more than filthy pigeons. Some thought that it had once been an outpost, that perhaps angels had once been wiser, more civilized, and that they rested here while carrying messages back and forth between heaven and
that!” before the report from the gun echoed through the town. Mr. Sutherland immediately turned his weapon over to Ed Durham, proprietor, and waited peacefully while a miners’ jury was assembled, Deadwood as yet still being without an elected sheriff. Mr. Durham, responsible for restoring the scene to order, has told this reporter that in the aftermath he gathered the cards from the table, with the intention of presenting them to Mr. Sutherland upon his inevitable acquittal, in token for his
her eyes wide in fear and shock. He pushed with all of his willpower, carrying the Play through to its end. Clarice fell to the ground, terrible gasping sounds coming from her throat. He ran to her, crouched down over her. She looked up at him, tears spilling from her eyes. Then she was still. Quentin went to Hiram, who stirred on the ground. “How are you not dead?” Quentin asked. “How am I not dead? Did Gunsmith’s pistol fail?” Hiram, clutching at a wound in his thigh, shook his head. He
from accidents,” said Chapman. “I’ve asked. All those suicides, they’re just accidents or illnesses.” “And yet there are so many dead,” said Alvin. “Because their hopeless friends and family members don’t help them, don’t heal them, don’t even feed them in their extremity, because they know that death will come to them as a relief.” Chapman dropped to the ground, curled up, and wept. “I don’t know about evil,” said Alvin, “but right now you’re pretty useless.” “I can’t fix it,” said Chapman.
more argument. They brought out their apples and had a fire. Smelled like an apple roast. Smelled like a party. But Alvin and Appleseed watched to make sure that nobody ate any of the cooked apples. If mice got into the mess that night or next morning, and then in despair went out for the hawks or the owls to get them, Alvin couldn’t begin to guess. He warned the mice not to eat those apples, but if they couldn’t resist the smell, he couldn’t very well change their nature, which was all