Smith and Keeper
No way to quite explain this other than to say my obsession with Wizard and Glass made me fan boy and write this.
The overall feel and setting is very early 1900s frontier with a dark and stunted twist. The concept of morality comes from a practical vs pedestal thinking.Enjoy
Chapter 1
"Take it easy friend, no trouble here."
"It's no trouble unless you move. You so much as flinch and trouble will find you, friend."
Sweat fell from my chin faster than my hat could absorb it. Dark approached and as it did the sun dipped to where my eyes would no longer be protected against its rays. I pressed the barrel flush against his temple.
"Don't move now. You move you die right?"
If I thought I was sweaty, the man at the end of my barrel was drenched. Without a dry spot on his clothing, he wasn't scared enough to tell me what I needed to know.
"I don't know where she is mister...AHHH"
He fell from the pain inflicted upon impact from the butt of my pistol. When he fell, I put the barrel of my pistol to his kneecap and pulled the trigger.
"You see that? I saved your life. I told you if you moved you'd die and instead, I took your kneecap."
With him on the dirt, I was no longer worried about the sun affecting my eyes. He writhed in pain on the floor clutching where his knee should have been. Blood spilled between his fingers, whimpers spilled from his lips.
"Stop crying now or I'll have to put you out, you hear. Now, where were you saying she was? You were bragging inside the bar about taking her and now you say nothing. The law won't stop me. Your friends from the bar are dead. No one will save you. Now tell me, where is she?"
From beneath the sobs he made out, "I don't know Mister, we took her to that Law Dog Jesup and that's the last I seen I swear!"
"Directly to him?"
"Yes!"
He didn't seem to me to be the type of cunning it takes to lie under pain and threat of death. I believed him, but it was too much to be left to chance. I pulled the trigger once more and away went his other kneecap.
I leaned closer, Are you sure that's all?
He whimpered and cried and sobbed a repeated yes. He was a mess and closer in dignity to a dog doing its business in the dirt. Pitiful was the way he sobbed, tears and snot melding together around his mouth and jaw. His color was already a few shades lighter from blood loss. I took a knife from my boot and slipped it between his left ribs. He coughed twice and slumped lifeless to the floor. It was a mercy really, he was out of the agony he inflicted upon himself and I saved a bullet.
Jesup had to be next, but he was hard to get to. He had men and other creatures to do his dirt. Law Dog was a euphemism. He was once a sheriff in some small town until he reportedly snapped. I didn't want anything to do with Jesup, in fact I've made a habit of steering clear of him. In my, albeit short, career as a Gunsmith and Peacekeeper I have only seen Seniors deal with him. Now I have no choice. The image of her lifeless corpse hanging off the side of a filthy and bloody bed lingered in my mind. Lingering in my mind were her cold, pale lips moving as her soulless eyes echoed the same sad story.
I had to find her before this premonition came to pass and in order to do so I would have to find Jesup. I would probably have to kill him. To do that, I would need more guns and hands to wield them. The sun was setting and the darkness that accompanied it would soon overcome this small desert town. As I walked back to my horse I took note of various townsfolk looking at me from behind their windows. Few dared stroll out into the dirt street I walked now and they only collected the bodies I left behind me. Five total. A good days work. I found my horse and looked to the fast approaching darkness, knowing that my path lie beyond it. As I mounted it a voice called out to me, "Son! What you did here, it was a kindness to our town. We hated those sons-a-from the moment they came."
I rarely ever did my work for free. After all I have to eat as well and three of those five corpses had a pretty penny on their heads. Happenstance; I was going to kill them anyway.
"It was my genuine pleasure Sheriff. You can keep the fee for all but the last one."
He had a dumb look of surprise on his face. Small town Sheriffs were strange to me. As we Peacekeepers were strange to them. Sheriffs were paid regularly while we were paid by our bounties but for some reason people were regularly surprised when we asked for our due. I would need supplies and bullets for the path ahead so it worked out well.
As the Sheriff went to fetch my reward. I faced my horse away from the impending sunset. Staring off into the darkness he blew his nose, hemmed and hawed until I was finally about to regain control of him. Peering out into the darkness I wondered what he felt that I had not. My hand slipped to my side pistol instinctively while I kept my eyes glued to the dark. I heard the thud of the Sheriffs pace grow louder until he threw the purse of silver into my lap. I thanked him absentmindedly. Bemused by my own paranoia I rode toward the dark. It was the road I had most traveled and the one most others avoided.
Chapter 2
“Arden I am inclined to decline your request, on the basis of your budding insanity.”
Justin scoffed while flipping his gold coin. For most it was a distraction from what his other hand was up to. For me it was an annoying habit from our youth.
“Seriously though, think the plan through to its conclusion and you have to see confrontation with Jesop is futile. All because of some dream.”
Justin aggravated me with his logic yet again. He only ever had my best interests in mind but his mind could be too cautious for a Peacekeeper in my estimation. I sat with my boots up on the table wheat in my mouth and said nothing.
“Arden, I know that look. It's the
Justin said in caution again. He continued to flip his coin while he stared unblinkingly at me. What fascinated me is that the pace of flips seemed to never change. A pinging metronome.
“I'm in.”
Gideon had been quiet until just then, when it seemed he woke up behind his eyelids. I figured this is the way it would go. It's the way it had always gone with my Pride. Gideon rode with me while Justin whispered caution in my ears while riding to victory. I supposed it was our age. Gideon and I were anointed Peacekeepers at seventeen and Gunsmiths at eighteen. We were reckless, daring and somehow always came out on top. Justin had been a Peacekeeper of a few years before us; his guidance helped us be prepared in our training.
“I can always count on you my friend. With the three of us, we can start in Destin and work our way in to Jesups' home base. Destin is first and then Rally after. Destin seems to be his forward position and the ground there is rich. We take it away and they've lost men and money.”
“Arden, I'm not going. It's a suicide mission and I'm not going in off of just some dream,” Justin told me sternly. He sat up in his seat, pulled a knife from his belt, and planted it into the table to accentuate his point. He did not however, stop flipping that damn coin.
The bar around us was dead and the owner knew us well. We called the area Midway because it was in between our home in Canon and where we typically ranged. A piano played lightly in the background, the dayshift whores from the local brothel made a round or two, there were just a few other patrons, but everyone knew not to disturb us.
I knew his implied cooperation would irritate him but mincing words wouldn't solve anything. It was best to get through it quickly.
“They don't all have guns, we do. They aren't all trained by the best and tried by the toughest enemies, we are. As far as the dream goes, you know whom my mother was. This was not just a dream. This was vision. I need you in order to get this done and you aren't going to let me and Gideon die by ourselves. We are a Pride. I owe you; I love you, now put your mind to good use and help me figure out how to flush them out.”
Justin stood up, shoved his seat under the table and walked to the door. He stopped at the precipice turning when we, his friends, had not recalled him. Gideon sucked his teeth, kicked the chair out from under the table, and nodded. I asked the barkeep for three more drinks and Justin brought them back with him while returning to his seat.
“Destin isn't going to be a problem but Rally will be. Jesup has held Rally for a long time now. They aren't just used to him, he has basically become their benefactor. We don't need to just ride into Rally and kill everyone with his tags. We need to remind everyone of the monster he is. We should start with Destin like you said and let word reach them in Rally slowly.”
This was the Justin that I knew and loved. It was a good plan. One that would result in more blood spilled than if we just went and killed Jesups men. It would allow them to eradicate his influence more completely.
Gideon cracked his neck and without opening his eyes he stated flatly, "We will have to let them kill some townsfolk. Maybe even force them to kill some."
Justin leaned back, withdrew his coin, and resumed flipping it. Being a Peacekeeper required self-sacrifice. It requires our unflinching ability to act, as we believe correct. As a Gunsmith we have the responsibility to operate at a higher level. To be respected and sometimes feared. We were Peacekeepers. We were Gunsmiths.
"Greater good," I said unsure if I was asking or stating.
Both Gideon and Justin nodded their heads after just a moment. Justin never stopped flipping his coin. Gideon never even bothered to open his eyes.
Chapter 3 (Chapter 2b)
Midway looked as a speckle of dirt on the horizon when we reached The Supplier. His wares from were from Canon and were as far from home as one could buy ammunition. As Gunsmith I could always find materials to make some but there was no replacement for The Suppliers wares. Not even of my own make. We loaded up with as much ammunition as we could afford and carry, surpassing three hundred rounds each. This would be precious as Jesups crew reportedly numbered in the many hundreds. The Supplier never asked a question, instead thanked us and sent us on our way so that he may make space for his next patrons. As we turned I stood face to neck with some familiarity.
"Lazarus, we have to stop meeting like this." I stepped aside so he could continue and my Pride circled his.
"Arden LePage, last I heard you were in the Outer Banks chasing some low level
I looked at my elder and nodded in feigned respect, "Not a small task. Lazarus look, we are going for Law Dog and truth be told extra guns would be welcome."
I knew telling Lazarus was a gamble. At best their help would be a difference maker in the feud to come, at worst it was a ribbing in the making. Lazarus guffawed and set forth patronizing, "You are going to bring Law Dog to heel? He has been an active
This was as appropriate a response as I could imagine. As fitting to the man that spoke them as the shoes he was wearing. I turned on my heels and ushered a short wave goodbye. As I took my first few steps forward Holder jeered and a pair of footsteps stalled behind me. They were Gideon's footsteps for sure, he had a strangely heavy step for a slight man. As I am forced to turn back, I am confronted by the sight of Gideon glaring at Holder with a hand on his thigh strapped knife. Holder still smirked with his hand on his pistol. Nonchalantly I ushered to Holder, "Whoever took that finger I promise you Holder, Gideon is better."
"Then why do you want our guns I wonder," Lazarus poked. He had the look. His eyes looking through me, his stance a trancelike sway. His hands worked their ways to the steel on his hip. He got this way before every row we ever had and we had many. Lazarus yearned to spar with me he was the most accurate shot in the Peacekeepers, but I was the fastest. His fingers danced around the butt of his gun. The Supplier dressed us down but his admonishment seemed to come from miles away. Lazarus stood sentinel. He stared me down as though his eyes would put me down by themselves. Largo was the man who jostled Lazarus out of his trance. He glared for a moment and turned back to The Supplier, ignoring me. I place my hand in my jacket pocket for a brief moment but the shaking rattled my ammunition. I withdrew my hand quickly and we withdrew for the night.
We chose an old barn to lay our heads. Creaky and in disrepair, it was a common rest stop for our kind; there were usually more Prides present. It was just us when Justin relieved me of my watch. I awoke the following morning to Justin slinging silver from his tongue. I rose quickly and with my Peacemaker pointing in the direction of Justin's voice. When my eyes cleared from their morning haze, I saw Lazarus several paces away at the end of my barrel. I relaxed for a moment without moving my arm. Justin looked calm but his voice is just an octave higher than I like.
"Holder and Largo?" I asked simply.
"Holder is standing at the tip of Gideon's knife on the other side of the barn here and Gideon is at the tip of Largo's gun. You were right Gideon is fast. Can you oblige me in something? You can keep the Peacemaker on me but redirect that other sandalwood." Lazarus said mockingly looking at my manhood.
Disregarding his comment I called out to Gideon and he ushered a confirmation. I could pull the trigger and be done with the thorn in my side that has been Lazarus. He was my torment. Who would I be without him?
I lowered my gun and raised an eyebrow to Lazarus. He took my meaning and called his fellows to, Gideon following thereafter. Once we all gathered we ate breakfast without much remark. This was as comfortable as it would get between our two Prides and once breakfast was over I ended the relative silence.
"Why are you here Lazarus?"
"Not even the famed Colt took Jesup."
Lazarus' short but sharp answer cut me worse than any metal yet to touch my skin.
I knew he was right of course. It was not the first time the famous Colts last ride entered my mind in the past days. I steeled myself away from the emotions that thought brought.
"There was one of him and there are three of us." Was the only answer I had to give at the moment. Lazarus looked me straight and scowled at me. Colt was his mentor. He taught him most of what he knew and how to be. Until I came along.
"Colt was better than the three of you combined. Don't diminish Colts skill to try and make you feel better about your own." Lazarus stood up brushing his hat off and donning it. The scowl on his face was constantly donned. Justin chatted with Holder and Largo. They were just older than me, but Justin felt a connection with Gideon and I in our youth and left them. Besides, there can only be three in a Pride.
"Tell you what, if you can clear Destin, we will help you clear Rally. Show me you aren't just a spoiled pissant and I'll join your crusade. My Pride and I. Accord?" Lazarus put is fingers to his chin and tapped three times.
I am not used to Lazarus complying with reason. After a stretch of time to consider his deal, I stood and nodded my head, tapping my chin three times. With the deal struck, he rode off on his cherry colored horse with his Pride.
Chapter 4
“Dealing with Lazarus then?” Gideon molested. It was the third time he had asked. To the unpracticed ear he did not sound aggravated but the fact that he asked indicated the contrary.
I politely declined to argue with him and was perfectly content in my silence until he asked, “Is this about the girl or Law Dog?”
I halted my horse and scowled at Gideon. The tale of Law Dog was of a rogue sheriff gone power hungry. The stories all said he had the reflexes of a Peacekeeper and the savage of a starved wolf. How he managed to kill every Peacekeeper who had ever gone after him was still unknown. The falling sun interrupted my scowling and prompted us to spurred our horses to forward.
Three hours had passed and I found myself staring yet again at this sleepy little town. The town was little more than four buildings it has everything a town needed: a market, a church, a jail, and a bar. With actual residents, in a house or tent, scattered about the edges of town as evening drew close it was sparsely occupied. That was how I like it.
My Pride had a way of going about our business. I review the lay of the town with Justin and Gideon as I recalled it. When they were satisfied I took my horse and trotted into town. Dusk approached rapidly. I laid eyes on four mustangs tied up in front of the bar as I put mine up by the jail. Talking to the Sheriff first thing was my tendency when making my way to a new town. Though this town wasn’t new to me in a physical sense, I felt a change about her and the new horses did not ease my curiosity.
I enter the jail and the Sheriff greets me heartily. No, pressured. I think as his hand rose to meet the pristine handle of his knife and then outstretched to shake my mine. The Sheriff wore a wrinkled and hole laced uniform shirt with faded and dirty pants. His cuffs, which were stained by grease, were too loose and covered half of his hand when his arm was idle at his side. It was a slow hand on the slower Sheriff, but it made me wonder who he anticipated.
He rushed to greet me but his words stalled. Eventually he stammered, “I don’t have any change for your silver Mr. Arden, but I believe Pik at the bar has some coppers for you.”
The poor Sheriff perspired profusely. That was it then. I had an established routine with the reliable, or at least constant, figured in all the towns I frequented. For all the Sheriffs faults he remembered this one.
“I was just thinking of a place to stay for the night Lawman Lard. Thank you kind friend, I do believe I fancy some more to drink anyways.” I said with a broad, feigned smile.
Pik and I first met when I was young and ranged with my class. He wanted to be one of us but it was very rare for an outsider to be accepted into Peacekeeper training. Since then he had always offered me lodging and food when he had it. He was a man with a good heart and owner and tender of the bar in town. I like Pik.
I turned and exited the jail making my was to the bar. It wasn’t a difficult trek as the bar was located conveniently across the way from the jail. As I stood outside I withdrew a piece of chalk and drew a white line high and a line with a circle low on a beam facing East. I tapped the beam three times and said a prayer to the Third. I took out a flask and swigged some of the brown liquor inside of it, gurgling for a few moments to allow my breath to meld with the scent. I moved my Peacemakers to the back of my waist so that they were hidden behind my jacket. I looked to the sun and dusk had arrived.
When I entered the bar I did so with a limp and veered to my left. Surveying the bar I found three men who were unfamiliar to me; two playing cards at a table with another at the bar. There was another table closer to me with three occupants and four to five unoccupied others. The customers closest to me, by facial recognition only, were known to me. I skipped over that table and collided into the strangers. With liquor heavy on my breath and a drunken manner I sat down.
“You gentlemen wouldn’t mind dealing me in next time would ya?” My words were deliberately pressured but I was sure the men would notice.
“Son, I am going to need you to move yer arse.” The man to my left said. I looked him over, spotting his LeMat revolver on his hip. The man to my right stayed silent but I spotted his LeMat on his hip and a three inch blade on his far thigh. The man to my right looked at me crooked but remained silent as I badgered on about being dealt a hand. I did not like his look so I decided he deserved the first bullet followed by the man at the bar. I couldn’t lose the man at the bar because doing so would increase my risk of either getting hit or hitting Pik behind the bar. I turned my head over to the right to place the third man and ordered a drink. As I did I felt a hand grab my by the nape of neck and slammed my head into the table. As the pain radiated through to my head and my left ear rang my left hand dropped to my side. The man on my right opened his palm in front of my face for inspection. The palm of his hand was an open snakes mouth. The head began at the wrist, the eye just below the thumb and its snout terminated before his index finger began as its chin did before his little finger. Around his wrist and forearm was the coiled up torso of the tattoo.
“You know what this means boy? It means I am dangerous. It mean I can kill you here and now and keep playing my game. Do you know who I am?” His tone serious but underwhelming.
“A serious man! I just wanted to play cards!” I laughed with a not so fake amount of pain present.
“Leave us the
“You know, it doesn’t matter who you are because of what you are.” I whispered to him. He answered with a disgusted look but before I could finish I heard a scream from the table behind me revealing me as a Peacekeeper. Before the man on my left could react my Bowie knife plunged into his forearm then heart while I put two bullets into the threatening mans chest. I rolled to the left using that mans body as a meat shield from the man at the bar. I flipped the table and kept down behind it. I knew I was going to lose the man at the bar if things didn’t go as planned and now I was exactly where I didn’t want to end up. Before I knew it the bullets stopped and were replaced by grunting and gurgling. I picked my head up enough to see the third man spiting up blood and on his toes. When he finally fell Gideon stood in his place, his own Bowie knife blooded to the cross-guard, looking down upon him like a vulture to a carcass. To certify his work he kneeled on the third mans back, lifted his head, and sliced his throat open.
Gideon nodded at the body finally and asked, “I thought there were four?”
Through the front door strutted Justin with the familiar men from the nearby table. He pointed to the wall and had them stand next to each other. “The fourth tried to interrupt while you things were slamming on tables. He didn’t make it.”
I nodded in understanding and looked to the bar. From behind it, Pik poked his head over the bar and I breathed a sigh of relief. “It was my head by the way Justin. Pik, thank the Second you managed to not get killed. Who else would make my drinks? All we wanted was a bed to lay our heads on but instead we got this.”
“Mr. Arden, it were the fellow on the right.” Pik’s voice shook.
“You are a good man Pik, wasn’t your wife with child?” I asked lightly while pulling my knife from the breastbone I left it in last.
“Yes Mr. Arden. So does he.” Pik slowly started to settle down.
I shrugged my shoulders and nodded to Justin. He strode over to the fellow on the right. He placed the barrel of his revolver against the center of his forehead. With the squeeze of his trigger the fellow on the right was with only fragments of a brain.
“Thus ended the fellow on the right.” I said as I took my hat off, mockingly saluting his death.
“So what did the fellow on the right do to deserve death,” Justin asked blandly.
“He screamed to them that I was a Peacekeeper. He damn near got me killed before I was ready. Oh, Pik congratulations by the way. Whatever money these Black Adders had is yours for the inconvenience and for the baby. If he has the skill, when he is older I will sponsor him myself you have my word on that Pik. Wait, healthy I hope?” Pik nodded pouring me a glass. I sighed with relief again. “Thank the First for that. Now, for the reason that we are here…”
We left Bethany that night under the cover of the chilled star filled sky. After the killing Pik revealed to us they had just finished hunting for Peacekeeper to the North and South. They had spoken about Jesop wanting to expand. As we prepared to depart I stood in the same place I killed the kidnapper just a week before. I looked around Bethany as only the Sheriff and Pik were awake to see us off.
Once you were a peaceful little town Bethany. Why is it every time I come now you force me to take another life?
Chapter 5
His eyes flitted open. His face wore sorrow. His lips moved with slow surety and his brow dripped beads of sweat. I raised mine in question. Gideon chopped his lips on the fowl he cooked for breakfast with no regard to either of us. I shifted under my coat, the wind chill still cutting through to the bones, digesting Justins words while feeling the heat radiate off of him. My half eaten plate got colder by the moment until Gideon asked if I would finish. I shake my head and Gideon finishes what I had started and the proclaims, “If we ain’t going to make it out alive it does no good to waste food. No good to save bullets either.”
Justin shook his head and devoured his plate. I continued to clean my gun and when Justin was done he finally said, “Thats not what I said. You need to listen better Gideon.”
“I heard what I needed to hear. Two alive one dead.” Gideon asserted gripping the smooth finish of his knife handle. He turned his back to us, kicked the grass, but did not move far from our fire.
I shifted under my coat again. Gideon had many Peacekeeper predecessors. The dangers of the job never once bothered him and he was never an overtly emotional man. I had been with Gideon through firefights and fist fights. The only time he ever lost his composure was when Justin meditated deeply and came back with a vision. The finality of an fixed future without the chance of alteration was appalling to him. This would be the third time. The vision prior had been so accurate that he said nearly nothing as we sat at the bar in Midway, as Justin foresaw, and discussed this precise venture.
“I said ‘one of us felt empty’. There is a difference between dead and empty.” Justin responded roundly. His hands shook as he spoke but not because of the cold. By my judgement, and the sweat still appearing on his forehead, he was still shaking the feeling of the vision.
“Stop scowling Gideon. I will be the first one in. If I feel like we can’t do this then we won’t. Do not tell me your afraid.” I had never needed to talk Gideon into a fight. It felt strange. Destin was about a three hour ride away.
Gideon whirled around and spiked his knife into the ground between my feet. ”I was born by blood and I expect I will die in it too. I don’t feel like carrying either one of you sorry shooting
I mounted my horse after we closed our camp and put out our fire. I gave my guns to my Pride and entered Destin unarmed. Having never been to Destin I could not be sure what its reported occupation would look like. If I was searched prior to entry and the found my guns it would be a mission failure before it began. Looking on to Destin I see a large field plentiful with crops and a town much larger and teeming with more life than I was used to seeing. Destin was without guard or check point so I entered with my horse and wandered for a short while before making my way to the local bar. The bar was usually the best place for information in any town and hosted a number of strangers. My routine and hopes were to blend in with the crowd but as I walked in several people looked up and seemed uneasy for a moment. Unsure as to why the reaction I twitched to my knife but no-one proceeded maliciously. Everyones attention returned to their table seconds after my entrance so I walked toward the bar and asked the about-faced bartender for a drink.
Upon turning to provide it to me he dropped the cup and caused the majority of the bar to look toward us et again. “My apologies Mister. You just have the look of someone else. In a certain light. Here this drink is on the house.” Feeling uncomfortable about the shifting eyes and attention my way I kept my hand close to my knife.
“It’s not a problem my friend, especially if you can tell me how a town like Destin became so popular.” I said in a convivial manner. I smiled and surveyed the room as he told me nonsense about their crop boom and people trying to cash in. As I surveyed the room one particular observation struck me above the rest. I vaguely hear him ask a question and I turn to find out what it was.
“I asked what do you go by and if you’ll be staying the night?” The bartenders voice wavered. Sometimes it happened when people met Peacekeepers for the first time but I was without arms.
“My friends call me John. Hey, what can a fella do for work in a town like this. I see a few tough guys in here, is anyone hiring?” I asked as innocently as possible. I played as simple as possible to allay suspicion but it didn’t seem like the bartender cared.
“See Bart the Bard if you be needing some of that. And don’t come to me asking how we got popular if you’re already knowing the answer.” With that the bartender left me to tend to other patrons but not before pointing the direction of some drunk fool by the hearth. Children sat around him mostly but a few women did as well. I could hear him telling some horse ass story when I walked over with a beer to bribe him with. He ended his story and skipped to me when he realized that my beer was for him. By the end of an hour he had half a dozen more pints and had told me everything of the town over the past 6 months. He told me how Law Dog rolled over the sheriff and other officers here. He told me how over the passed 6 months he had been pouring more money and men into the town. With all that and more having been established I obtained a room key from the bartender and explored a little more. I spent three days in the town speaking with the populace. In those three days I helped farmers plow, bought food for a few starving street walkers, and helped clean out a couple bar fights for the barkeeper. When I went up to my room I was renting from the bar owner on the fourth night I crawled out of the window to meet with my Pride.
When I arrived along the outskirts of the city I meet my Pride. Justin circled nothing and Gideon watched me from approach from the time I was distinct from the town. With three taps to our chins we embrace each other and begin to review the town’s layout and all else Bart the Bard told me.
“He conveniently left out the fact that there were already at least twelve gunmen present in the town. Five in the bar, three deputy’s and one sheriff office, two were posted outside of the barber always and one followed me around the town. Black Adders all. The Sheriff has bullied the populace into submission. Farmers hate him, but Law Dog is also credited for building up the town. They credit him for the ability to actually farm crops.” I looked to the city and thought deeply.
“So Law Dog is stacking the city with either ex-Peacekeepers or others with our abilities. I hate Black Adders.” Justin exhaled heavily and removed his coin from his pocket. He began flipping his coin and continued on, “So new Sheriff. Not only does he have to go but it has to be a spectacle. We have to remind people his is the Law Dog’s puppet and that subjugation is not how one should live. First it must be about. How he cannot help them. Then, about how he hurts them. Lastly, we must empower them and pretend like he can not control them.”
Gideon, looking to the town, whispered “Fire and brimstone.”
I nod and smile, “Let’s show them true horror.” Behind me the only sound was the flip of a coin.
Chapter 6
On the edge of town limits lay a farm. I plowed and tilled this farm during my scouting phase. During my interactions with natives and immigrants alike I come to understand the farm was taken from a man named Aldrich. Aldrich was thought to be a good successor for the sheriff, much to his own chagrin, until the townsfolk were made to realized that Law Dog Jesup would not allow such democratic proceedings to be so….democratic. The prior Sheriff’s death was gruesome and unceremonious, unlike it was the death of the democracy itself. First came an influx of people not of the town. Among them was a man named Lecter who manifested as the voice and fist of those people. When it still seemed the home town hero Aldrich would still be victorious, Law Dog Jesup came and washed away any chances of it. Like the tide he came and swept away the deputies and a handful of other prominent townsfolk who all manufactured his Aldrich’s candidacy even against his wishes. Aldrich lost and Lecter has terrorized the townsfolk ever since. He started by stripping Aldrich of his family farm. As the kind of man he was, he stalked off quietly into insignificance. Boring.
Aldrich had a son. With impulsivity that came with youth, Martin Aldrich had already gotten into trouble a handful of times for harassing Jesup’s lackeys. He sat in the town jail following one of these affronts. I walk up the creaky steps into the rickety two floor and four cell jailhouse and one of the deputies stood guard. Martin was about my age, as I gathered, but his was a smooth face where mine was worn by many dangers faced. I approach the bars and shake my head at the boy.
“You know, there are better reasons to get arrested. A bar fight with Adders is idiotic.” I jeered. There were but two other occupants in the cell. One was put there for not giving his own beer to an Adder upon demand, and the other for questioning Sheriff concerning his own lost land. The latter had been a man of some repute as was Martins father. All in all, hardly the dregs of society.
“Had it just been one I might have won.” Martin lay on a half rotted bench along the far wall. His legs far outstretched the bench and his shoulders hung well over the edges. “You are John. We met before on the farm. Strong hands for a normal wanderer, I remember thinking. So John, what brings you to my quarters?” Martin outstretched his arm, letting it hang in the air. He was a little more observant than I had supposed.
“I want to post bail and speak to you in a place more private.” I told him while withdrawing coins from my pocket. With the deputy having named the price I freed all three of the men. Martin walked to my left, quiet and contemplative even if for just a moment. I trekked quietly alongside him keeping my eyes from glancing upward. All the Law Dogs men began to lay eyes on myself and the boy. I brandish smiles at a few of them but I kept my hand on my thigh strapped knife. I goad Martin with a hushed voice, “Vermin all of them, friend.”
“I hate these Black Adders. I hate all of Law Dogs gang. They have taken everything of worth; land and resources. They left us with squat!” By the end of his declaration his voice was raised and so too was the temperature of his blood. He had fair skin which burned red now and his voice shook. He kept up his ramblings as we walked and I paid little attention to them. My thoughts were on the sky yet I would not allow my eyes to join them. He certainly had anger and he paired that with, what I sensed to be, Peacekeeper ability. His problem was a lack of direction and a lack of discipline. His father treated him as a child that much was evident in his manner.
As we made our way loudly to the edge of the town we were spied on by citizen and by Sheriff Lecter. I kept a quick pace, nodding at those I had dealings with but not stopping for anyone. At the edge of town I stopped a moment taking a deep breath and a moment. There was a freedom in the air here at the edge. Just now I realize how long I have been in this place. This place of duty. It confined me and yet standing on the precipice of freedom I hesitated. I could leave this mission behind me If I wanted, me and my Pride could just go about our business. As I think of this, the shrieks and cries of a nameless woman lunge penetrate my mind. The babel continues until I can hear nothing else. Her screams surround me. The desperate shrieks of unceasing pain. The kind of pain that came from mind rather than body. A separate scream broke my trance as those who were spying us were now clattering on about smoke rising above the town. Martin Aldrich swore and ran back toward the smoke as I followed behind, without thought to the freedom now behind me.
By the time we found the fire it was thick and engulfed a few sprawled out buildings. None yet had fallen but the wooden structures could not last much longer. The flame tips threatened adjacent buildings. Idle gatherers had joined us by now. Some ran in and out of the burning buildings; most exited with the possessions of others. Martin’s father exited with people choking on smoke as he hoisted them from out of the fire. His face was covered in both soot and sadness. Martin started to sprint to his fathers aid when I stopped him.
“The more of us there are the more we can save. Let us ask the Deputies for help.” I offered.
He went frantically begging the Deputy’s for assistance. The deputies merely shifted their attention from the fire for a moment as his request went unheeded. Martin cursed them for their ambivalence and took to the first burning house he could find. I followed suit into the same building. I had to be sure Martin didn’t die in his heroics; the town must rally behind him when the time came. Inside the building the ceiling had already begun to collapse. Muffled coughs came from upstairs so I take them up. The steps disintegrated almost all ash. A few that remained crumbled under my weight. The coughing gets closer as I peer around room to room. Then, Martin was before me with an unconscious lady in his arms.
“Wynona, she has a daughter but I can’t find her.” Martin panicked. I patted him on the shoulder urging him outside. I assure him I will continue the search. I check the last and largest of the rooms and find it empty. The ceiling is beginning to come down on me as I swear. A plank fell nearly hitting me atop my head. Attic!
I jump to pull myself up for a look but the board crumbles beneath my fingers. Cursing the weakness of wood I scan the cracks of the ceiling. Three more planks fell around me. I can feel someone else here. A faint presence near. The flames around me are growing and are flickering closer and closer. I can feel the heat on my face become more intense. Another plank falls baring the door but revealing a shadow in the attic. I manage my way closer and the shadow becomes a child curled up in the corner. Using the recently fallen plank, I beat the ceiling until the child comes crashing through and into my arms. A board beneath me crumbles sending my leg through and the child out of my arms. The body of the child hit the ground as a fallen stone while her limbs dangled and moved while falling like streamers. You can get out, just finish though the floor and say you can’t find her. In reality it would only benefit our cause.
Just then the child moved and gave an ever slight groan.
Moments later I emerge from the house. More cracks and crackles from wood and flame can be heard behind me as Wynona comes running to me. I place her child on the floor and begin compressing her chest. From my mouth from to the childs I exhale air. From that air, life stirred from her again. Wynona sobbed and I crept away surprised how much work it was: pulling my leg from the floor and the girl away from the house. We were able to make a couple more runs before many of the houses collapsed on themselves. After the last, I stood hunched over with hands on my knees. Mere feet away, J.P Aldrich mirrored my pose.
“Mr. Aldrich that was brave of you. Hurling yourself into danger like that.” His face was without expression. He neither turned his head nor his body to acknowledge my words. I wiped sweat from my brow astonished by how very little was on Aldrich’s. He moved quickly and his deeply drawn breaths seemed forced. A modest degree of difficulty, the task before boasted, and I played at being more exerted than I was. Yet the elder, though robust, J.P Aldrich was before me seemingly doing the same.
“My name is J.P son and it was a reflex.” He puffed the first recognition of my words. His eyes refused to meet mine. Instead, he looked the Black Adders that stood in the distance. They stood far enough that their faces were hardly discernible to me. The smoke didn’t help.
Coming from behind me bellowed Martin Aldrich, “Those bastards! They don’t care about us! All they care about is their interest. They couldn’t even help me save some of the people-” Martin coughed and wheezed. Others clamored around him in agreement. Loud was their anger through the night. The only light drew from the embers still glowing from ruble. The starry night sky was covered by smoke. Martin’s father tried to calm him and reason with some of the other townsfolk but he could not get through. The town was drawn to Martin and his charisma. A hometown hero in the making.
From the Black Adders in the distance I could hear them say, though audible only to the volume of a whisper to me, “When Jesup gets in town tomorrow he won’t be happy.”
The comment elicited a continued smile from me and a feeling of accomplishment at our task. As I admired Martins ever growing fandom I gave his father a nod and shouted my approval. Mr. Aldrich stared toward me with a frown.
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Originally Posted by Gandalf.
