El Muerto

This story is by Miguel A. Zamora and was part of our 2023 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

Texas Ranger Lopez slowly navigated Traveller, his Appaloosa horse, down a narrow rocky trail. He’d ridden these trails since he was a kid but wasn’t fond of riding in this area at night. The temperature had dropped, and lightning flashed. Lopez sniffed the air; the rain was close. “You doing good back there, Agent Littlestone?”

“Yes, sir. This is some beautiful country.”

Ranger Lopez was escorting the Customs and Border agent to the area where a caravan of two dozen illegal migrants and their coyote were found dead.

“Yes, beautiful country, but these 150 miles of Nueces strip once ran red with the blood of American and Mexican men, women, and children.”

“Really, I’m not familiar with this area.”

“Both countries invaded the Nueces Strip, but neither controlled nor settled it. The Republic of Texas claimed it after the Texas Revolution, but Mexico refused to recognize it. The Strip was known as ‘No-man’s-land’ until after the Mexican American War. Lawlessness and smuggling were rampant and became the main stomping grounds of the Texas Rangers.”

“I do know this stretch of the Texas border has the highest rates of human trafficking and drug running, along with the highest death rate in the area.”

“I’m impressed, Agent Littlestone. You’re well-informed. So, how does this fall under CBP?”

“Call me Nola. CBP created a special investigation unit to explore unexplained deaths on tribal land, border towns, and Federal Land.”

“Interesting.”

“I recently finished an investigation on tribal land about the death of two men linked to the Deer Lady.”

“Deer Lady? That’s a myth.”

“Is she? The Deer Lady is a spirit in Native American mythology, true, and she only punishes those who have harmed women and children. She appears as a beautiful young woman with deer feet.”

Lopez shook his head. “So, they say. Did she kill those men?”

“No, it was a local drug dealer.”

“So, you debunked the Deer Lady theory.”

“Ranger, I couldn’t prove it on this case, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t real.”

“Granted, and now you’re here.”

“I’m excited to be investigating in No-man’s-land. The strange sightings and deaths are beyond belief,” Littlestone said.

Looking back. “Really?”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve seen a few things yourself, Ranger.”

“Sure, a thing or two, but are you sure this falls under your department?”

“I read the coroner’s report, and it states that they all had massive heart attacks and their hearts exploded. From the photos, the expression on their faces was one of terror. Have you ever heard of such a thing, Ranger?”

“In this area, sure. I’ve come across a few cases.”

“And?”

“Supernatural… not necessarily. It could have been any number of thing from exposure, a snake bite, or a body dump.”

A slight drizzle had started to fall as they traveled down a gulley. It forced them to slow down on the slick surface.

“We could take a break at the bottom, but I would like to cross the before it pours. It will be hard to cross back if we get stuck on the other side.”

“Fine by me Ranger.”

They passed two five-gallon water cans set under a mesquite tree.

“I see CBP water stations are still up,” she said.

“Ranchers seem to like it. It’s cut down with interactions between them and illegals, Agent Littlestone.”

“Call me Nola… Ranger.”

He handed her a canteen as she rode up beside him. “Not too far now.”

She smiled. “I’m enjoying the ride so, no worries.”

They came to a stop, and Lopez stood tall in his stirrup. He scanned the area, looking for a place to cross.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“Hear what?

“It sounded like bells.”

“No, I’m afraid not Littlestone.” He sat back down on his saddle.

“Nola. Are you sure?”

“Yes, let’s get going.” They crossed the river at a shallow bend.

She shook her head. “Uh, anyway. I read that this area was a haven for cattle rustlers and thieves back in the day.”

“It sure was. In the 1880s Mexican cattle rustlers and thieves roamed this area freely. That’s when the Rangers were tasked to clean up the area.”

“Clean up?”

“Rangers administered justice. They felt fit the crime.”

“So, they were judge, jury, and executioner.”

“It was a different place and time.”

“There it is again,” she said.

“The bells?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t hear it.”

“Sorry.”

They came to the location marked with tape, where they dismounted.

Littlestone compared the photos to the location. She took more pictures and collected some random trash that was around the area.

Lopez took a drink from his canteen as he examined some tracks.

She stood over him. “What did you find?”

“It’s odd. These horse tracks don’t have any shoes. They’re no wild horses in these parts.”

“There it is again.”

A scream drew their attention. Lopez drew his gun as a young woman ran into view.

“Ayudame, por favor,” she screamed.

The lady’s skin was blistered, and her lips were chapped. The young woman told them that she had escaped the death.

Bells rang out, and the woman screamed and went into a seizure. She gasped, and she was gone. Lopez closed her eyes.

“What the hell just happened? Did she die from fright?” Littlestone asked.

Her gun drawn, she scanned the area. “What did she mean? She escaped death?”

“She said she escaped The Death,” Lopez said.

“Okay, who’s The Death?”

“It’s a myth about a headless rider that roamed these parts since the 1850s. On the rider’s spurs hung silver bells, Littlestone.”

“Go on.”

Lopez cleared his throat. “El Muerto was a cattle rustler known only as Vidal. Vidal and his men made the mistake of rustling a considerable number of horses on the San Antonio River. What Vidal didn’t know was that, among the stolen herd, were several prized mustangs belonging to Texas Ranger Creed Taylor. Creed was no hero; he was deemed a necessary evil. He was unhinged and had no conscience. Taylor and fellow Ranger “Big Foot” Wallace tracked them down and executed them. But just killing them wasn’t enough.”

She locked eyes on Lopez. “What did they do?”

“At that time stealing cattle and horses was a crime more serious than murder. So, Wallace beheaded Vidal and then lashed him firmly into a saddle on the back of a wild Mustang, making sure the torso stayed upright, he then attached Vidal’s head and sombrero to the saddle with a long strip of rawhide. He then turned the bucking horse loose to wander the hills,” Lopez said.

The temperature dropped as the sun started to set, and the wind picked up.

“Stories began to circulate about the headless rider and the ringing of the bells.”

“The bells I heard,” she said.

“They finally caught Vidal’s horse; his dried-up corpse riddled with bullets and Indian arrows still sitting tall in the saddle. They freed the horse and buried Vidal in an unmarked grave.”

“But there’s more to the story, right?”

Lopez chuckled. “Oh, I’m afraid so. You see, El Muerto didn’t stay dead, and he didn’t stay buried. Soldiers from Fort Inge, ranchers from ‘No-man’s-land,’ all hard men, not inclined to fear or superstition, have seen him countless times, even more, have heard his bells… those damnable bells…”

“I knew you heard them!”

“Yes, I heard them. He’s claimed these parts. He lives on to extract his vengeance upon anyone that travels the lands at night. And today, that might be you.”

“You mean us.”

“No, it’s afraid of Rangers.”

“Why’s that?”

Lopez ran his hand across his throat.

The horses started to spook. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“They got wind of something.”

“Use your SAT phone, Ranger. Call in a chopper.”

“The wind has picked up and with the lightning, they won’t send a chopper. I won’t leave Traveller.”

The horses bucked. Littlestone lost hold of her reins and the horses bolted.

“No!” she yelled.

Lopez whistled, Traveller whinnied, and both horses stopped and turned around.

“Good boy,” Lopez said as they trotted back.

He handed Littlestone her reins. “Calm down… Littlestone. I got you.”

Lopez caught a glimpse of a shadow and heard the ringing of the bells.

As the horses started to circle them. “Keep the horses between us. We’re safe, Littlestone.”

Just as fast as it came, the wind died, and the moon pried out from the clouds. The night air was quieter than a crowded grave.

“Time to go,” Lopez whispered.

They lifted the woman’s body onto Traveller and strapped her corpse down.

“Ranger, it’s happened to you before?”

“Yes’m.”

“It’s a myth… right?”

“Can you explain it, Littlestone?”

“Yes… I mean, I will… I need more time.”

“Then she died from exposure and nothing else.” Lopez mounted his Appaloosa.

“But…”

“Let it be, Nola. Let it be.”

They rode off as bells rang in the distance.