Chapter 2 – See How They Fall

I watched him fall, almost in slow motion. The roar of the guns had left me slightly stunned as it always did, the smell of cordite rank in my nostrils. There was a distant thud as he hit the ground and then, utter silence.

Ever the showman I spun my guns, one going in the opposite direction to the other, and flicked them neatly back into their holsters slung low on my hips, the matching grips protruding briefly until my poncho dropped off my shoulders to cover them once more.

There was a hole in my shirt just under the armpit, I'd felt the tug of the bullet as it passed through the thin black cotton, but thankfully it had missed my body, and once again I was the one who remained standing. Once again I had proved that I was the best.

Adrenalin high in my blood and a smile gloating over my lips, I tilted my hat back on my head to let the morning sun warm my face, the wind drying the sudden sheen of sweat on my forehead. Unmoving, I watched as the crowds dissipated to drift back to their mundane little lives. The show was over. As they left, occasionally looking back over their shoulders at me or the man I had dispatched, a disreputable looking old man moved crabwise over to the cooling corpse, quickly rifling through the pockets and removing his guns before the other 'men' of the town could get to him.

An undertaker, dressed as I was in black, and measuring tape in hand moved out from the porched shop fronts with a shroud and shouted irritably at him to get away. The old man stopped, grinned gummily at me and bustled away with his spoils, disappearing swiftly into a side alley.

I didn't need to see the body up close.

Two in two days: it was time to hit the road.

A small group of men stood off to one side. They waited, quiet and unmoving, a rock in the tide of humanity that flowed around them. The group included the bank manager, a local ranch owner and the proprietor of the largest store in town. These were the men who had raised the money: these were the men who would now pay my way to a new life in Mexico. Once the crowd had meandered away I left my triumphal patch of dusty street and moved to join them.

"Your problem is removed," I stated as I approached. "I would like to collect my money and go now please before your good townsfolk get worried about me staying. If you'd like a piece of advice, next time some piece of scum like that turns up, just kill him quickly and bury him. Ambush him in an alley or something."

"That was incredibly fast shooting young man," said the shopkeeper quietly as we turned to face one another. "Emily, go inside please."

His second comment was aimed at his daughter who peeked out from behind his legs. I smiled at her, and she smiled back fleetingly as she ran back to the shop. She reminded me of my cousin. As she peeked out from the shop doorway, she gave me a little wave which I returned before replying to his comment.

"Thank you Anton, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

This was perhaps not the reply the balding shop owner had expected and he gave me a long look, studying my face intently for a moment. As I raised a questioning and perhaps slightly confrontational eyebrow, he looked away, rubbed his hands down his shop apron, and glanced at the other two men inviting them to join in the conversation with an eloquent look.

"Shall we discuss this somewhere a little more, er... discrete perhaps, gentlemen?" suggested the middle of the three men.

Short, pompous and well dressed, the bank manager, one Arcturius Blatt, was my least favourite of the group. He reminded me of a well-dressed rat and seemed to twitch nervously whenever he spoke to anyone.

"I think I'll go back to my shop," said Anton quietly. "Mr Blatt, you have my share of the money to pay this young man. I think I wish to have no more to do with this."

He nodded at Blatt and Tennant, and then glanced at me again, seeming yet again to measure me, before nodding briefly and moving to join his daughter back in the shop.  

I nodded back, waved at the little girl again and inclined my head to Blatt in agreement to his earlier suggestion, following him and Tennant into the bank. The large and solidly made door thudded closed behind us as we moved into the main tellers' area.

"You have done us a service as we agreed, and now you will be paid and sent on your way," he said nervously as he placed his bowler hat on the counter.

"Let's get this distasteful business sorted out and we can get this town running again." John Tennant didn't really talk, he rumbled ominously like a volcano with an itch that it couldn't reach. His hat pushed back on his head, the large rancher leaned against the empty counter of the bank, his massive form and weather worn face seeming out of place in the twitching company of Blatt and the polished interior of the bank.

He had slapped his rifle down almost angrily on the counter as he spoke, the man's eyes tight with tension. I knew he didn't particularly like me from my time working on his ranch, but he seemed even more ill tempered than normal for some reason.

"I have no desire to stay here any longer than is necessary Mr Tennant." I said politely, then turned my attention to the bank manager.

"Mr Blatt, I would like my money now please."

Blatt backed away from me, his hands shaking with trepidation, and moved to the large steel safe in the corner of the room, licking his lips and twitching like a stabbed rattlesnake. He turned and went down on one knee, fiddling haltingly with the combination lock.

I looked around the room as I waited and as my eyes scanned the walls, a small movement caught my attention. The old man from the street had appeared at the small barred window of the bank and was looking in with a mad smile on his face. I winked at him surreptitiously and he grinned all the more, showing a decaying mouthful of brown and broken teeth.

The small sound of clashing metal from behind me brought my attention back to more immediate matters, and I looked round to see Blatt fumbling to pick up his set of keys from the floor.

"God damn it man."

Moving over to help him, I bent down to pick up the ring of keys and handed them to him, telling him to stop fooling around and get on with it. As he looked at me, his eyes flicked to look over my shoulder and I suddenly realised my mistake. Spinning around and reaching for my guns as I moved, I knew with sudden and sickening certainty there was little I could do as I watched the heavy dark wood stock of Tennant's Winchester rifle finish its swing towards my head.

A cascade of water woke me up, leaving me gasping for breath as I was jolted into consciousness, and then moaning in agony as pain flared in my face.

I lifted my head from my chest where it had rested while I was unconscious and looked around me. I was tied to a wooden support pillar, the smells of animals around me as they rested comfortably in the straw.

Bare-chested, weaponless and bootless, I stood, barely, and heavily supported by the strong rope that wound around my body, clamping me inescapably to the beam. The barn was darkly shadowed, only the late evening sun providing any light as small motes of straw dust sprinkled gently in the orangey light of sundown.

"We decided to take your advice young man."

The deep bass rumble of Tennant's voice was not a welcome addition to the surroundings. My hair dripping with the recent flood of water, I looked up as he swaggered out of the shadows to stand in front of me, placing the now empty bucket on the floor with a metallic clank.

"'Next time someone like that turns up, bury him'," I believe you said. "You turned up. Would you like to be buried face up, or face down?"

"I believe I also said 'kill him quickly'," I responded with a croak.

Tennant stepped in close, fury in his eyes. "You were meant to leave after you killed the first one, you stupid son of a bitch. Instead, you decided to hang around and get into more trouble. You killed my brother you bastard. We had a nice racket going there, but you had to go and spoil it."

I didn't see the punch coming. Pain racked my body as he smashed his fist into my face, the blow cannoning my head into the wooden pillar behind me.

Through the stars that danced in front of my eyes, I could make out his features twisted in anger and loss. I slumped in my bonds, feeling a trickle of blood down my back from the impact with the pillar and massaged a loosened tooth with my tongue. Gaining my breath, I spat out a wad of bloody spittle and slurred out a response that ratcheted fresh spikes of pain through my jaw.

"You hired me you idiot, did you really think I was just going to try and shoot his hat off his head?"

"You weren't meant to kill him you were only meant kill John Evans, but no, you decided to go on a spree. Evans was just another wandering gun like you who was getting in the way of my operations here and threatening my brother. He was your target, but you couldn't stop there could you?

"You.

"Killed.

"My.

"Brother."

Each word was punctuated by a blow from a fist. Ribs cracked, nerves seared agony into my soul and then, some time later, after I'd slipped back into the blessed sanctuary of darkness, another bucket of water woke me up again.

All I could feel was pain.

I could barely see through bruise closed eyes and was hanging in the ropes that still bound me to the wooden pillar. I licked painfully at the water running down my face, moistening my lips and tongue carefully, the copper tang of blood filling my mouth as I woozily lifted my head.

Darkness met my gaze and then abruptly a match flared, searing painfully into my eyes and leaving dancing scars of yellow in my vision. After a few seconds, the flame took in the lantern that Tennant held before me and a steady glow filled the stable with gentle light and my heart with terror as I saw his hate darkened face.

"You're gonna pay for what you did boy. You are going to die, slowly."

His face mottled with revenge, he drew back a massive fist and punched me back into the uncaring darkness.