Cowboy Necromancer: Infinite Dusk

by Harmon Cooper

  “You’re drunk?”

  “I just finished a bottle of tequila with Gasper, I definitely ain’t sober.”

  “Then this is the perfect time to fly. You should know how to do it. You probably have enough Mana.”

  Sterling quickly checked his stats just to be sure. “I’ve got close to one-sixty.”

  “That’s plenty, you should try. It could come in handy…”

  “I am afraid of heights,” Sterling admitted, which was something he was pretty sure he had told the Sunflower Kid before.

  “You don’t have to float very high,” she told him, “and you may have already done so before and you don’t even know it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In the heat of a battle, something like that.” The Sunflower Kid tilted her head as she looked at him. Sterling still wasn’t used to seeing her with a short pink bob. A disturbance caused Sterling to place his hand on his revolver. But it was only a street dog dragging something into an alley, another dog running out to meet it.

  “I don’t remember ever flying.”

  “Have you ever moved so quickly that you were surprised later on that it was you?”

  Sterling thought back to a few of his skirmishes. It wasn’t uncommon for him to move at speeds that were incomprehensible to his normal day-to-day operations. But could he really fly? Had he really gone five years without knowing about this ability?

  “Like me,” the Sunflower Kid said as she floated into the air. “You can do it.”

  Sterling wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced down at his cowboy boots. He wanted more tequila, and to have a conversation with the pretty lady at the bar. His focus was off because of the alcohol, and he recognized that. He also recognized that he was feeling a little combative. But there was something genuine about the way the Sunflower Kid was looking at him, as if she saw through what he was experiencing, a prescience to her gaze.

  “How?” Sterling asked.

  “How do you do anything that you do? You just do it. Just jump, and keep jumping.”

  “Look, if you think I’m about to start flitting around Alamogordo like the goddamn tooth fairy, you got another thing coming.”

  “Do you see anyone else flying around?”

  “I don’t see much of anything,” he said. “It’s dark out, and like I told you, I may have had a little too much tequila.”

  “You can do it,” she said as she lowered herself to the ground in front of him. “I would offer you assistance, but then you would think that it was me doing it for you.”

  “Why are you so gung-ho about me floating around?”

  “It’s your fear, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I’ve already told you that.”

  “Maybe this will help you get over your fear.”

  “What if I don’t want to get over my fear?” he asked, just being ornery.

  The Sunflower Kid smiled as vines began to press out of the asphalt of the parking lot. They latched onto Sterling’s legs, and it was only a few seconds later that they were wrapped all the way up to his knees, more tendrils appearing.

  “Hey,” he said as he tried to kick them away, and was unable to do so. “What the hell are you trying to do here?”

  “I’m going to kill you with my vines unless you float off the ground.”

  “You’re what?” Sterling went for his sickle-sword. He hacked at the vines, only to see that the pieces he cut off started to grow as well, more coming toward him, the tendrils now past his knees and nearly to his waist, some of the vines as thick as anacondas they started to squeeze him. “Get this shit off me or… I swear I’ll shoot you!” He sheathed his blade and drew his revolver. His weapon was instantly capped by one of the vines which began wrapping around his arm. “I’m serious, Kid, I ain’t playing with you…” Another vine wrapped around his free arm, several now making their way up to his shoulders. “This ain’t no way to teach someone something!”

  When the Sunflower Kid didn’t respond, Sterling tried to use his enhanced strength to tear away from the ground, but this didn’t work, the vines continuing to grow in size. He kept at it, his gun held in the air, a strain on his face, all his muscles tensed as he pressed away from the ground. Sterling was so focused on batting away the vines and preventing them from reaching his head that he didn’t realize that he was now floating a foot or two off the ground. It was only when the vines suddenly snapped back that he realized what was happening.

  Sterling looked down and saw the ground below him. He fell instantly, his knees buckling as his boots hit the pavement.

  “You were floating,” the Sunflower Kid said excitedly. “Did you see?”

  Sterling holstered his firearm. “That ain’t no way…”

  “Try again. This time without vines.”

  “If I try again, will you leave me the hell alone and let me go clean up for the night? You’re getting under my skin, Kid, and I could still shoot you if I wanted to.”

  “You won’t shoot me,” she said as she came forward. Sterling drew his revolver and slowly started to bring it to the ready. Once it was at her waist level, he grunted and put it away again.

  “See?”

  “You are really pressing your luck tonight, you know that? What happened to the quiet Sunflower Kid who didn’t give me hell after I’d been drinking? What has gotten into you?”

  “Come on, float. It may come in handy.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it, but only if you promise to leave me alone for the rest of the night.”

  “I promise.”

  “I got things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t need to tell you what I got to do,” Sterling said as he looked down at his feet. A smile started to take shape on his face. He knew he was being cranky. His first attempt at floating was simply a jump. But he tried it again, and imagined himself staying in the air this time.

  It didn’t work.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it voluntarily,” Sterling told her after several more attempts. “I’ll keep trying, but I don’t think it’s something I’m just going to learn here in one night. Especially in my, ahem, current condition. But I get it, I see what you mean now.”

  “At least you tried,” she said, her plant tendrils hovering around her and returning to the soil. “Hopefully you won’t need the ability anytime soon. Call it a night?”

  “Call it something.”

  .Chapter Five.

  Sterling fell asleep annoyed at the Sunflower Kid’s last statement to him, how ominous it was. He didn’t end up taking a bath that night, but he did so the next morning, a man who worked at the hotel bringing several buckets of hot water to fill a tub in the corner of the room. Sterling wished there was a window for him to gaze out of while he bathed, but at least the space was well-lit, the generator outside of his room providing plenty of light.

  Rather than focus on his desert haiku as he normally would have, Sterling accessed the Buy Store, the menu appearing directly in front of him. It was time to spend the twelve Technique Points he had received in his last level up. The Buy Store presented three main categories for him to choose from:

  Stealth

  Combat

  Perception

  He first selected the Perception tab and then the Awareness technique.

  Awareness: become the master of your surroundings.

  Spend three Technique Points to learn Awareness?

  “Might as well,” Sterling said as he indicated that he’d like to spend the points. This brought his Awareness technique to Level 1, Sterling figuring he’d spend five more points to bring it to Level 2. He then cycled back to the Stealth tab, Sterling recalling that he had unlocked an ability called Disguise.

  Disguise: Learn to better disguise yourself so you can fit in anywhere. Higher levels allow for greater perception of what will work, as well as voice modification.

  Spend three Technique Points to activate Disguise?

 
Since Sterling only had four points left, he figured it would be worth a shot, leaving him with one point left to add to his next level up. He also hoped that unlocking it would grant him an additional technique later on. Hopefully, he’d also have a charm by then that gave him even more Technique Points with each level. With a deep breath out, Sterling settled further into the tub, his cowboy hat over his head as he took an overall look at his Techniques:

  Combat:

  Sword Expert Level 4 - 30 Technique Points to Level 5

  Marksmanship Level 6 - 36 Technique Points to Level 7

  Stealth:

  Sneak Proficiency Level 3 - 14 Technique Points to Level 4

  Assassination Level 2 - 9 Technique Points to Level 3

  Cover of Night Level 2 - 7 Technique Points to Level 3

  Disguise Level 1 - 4 Technique Points to Level 2

  Perception:

  Persuasion Level 3 - 9 Technique Points to Level 4

  Awareness Level 2 - 10 Technique Points to Level 3

  He then took a quick gander at his base stats and Class Proficiencies:

  Name: Sterling Monedero

  Race: Human

  Mancer Class: Necromancer

  Class Ranking: Bone Sculptor

  Level: 61

  Fortitude: 117

  Strength: 40

  Resolve: 155

  Mana: 159/159

  Current Armor Rating: 28

  XP: 314,523

  XP to Next Level:10,437

  Stat Points Available: 0

  Technique Points Available: 1

  Necromancer Class Skills

  Death Whisper: Class Proficiency Level 4

  Casting Cost: 6 Mana Points

  Description: Can communicate with the deceased; blood needed to do so.

  ——

  Resurrection: Class Proficiency Level 3

  Casting Cost: 5 Mana Points

  Description: Can summon at will, but doing so takes a cut of MP until the animate is relinquished.

  ——

  Enhanced Durability: Class Proficiency Level 3

  Grafting Casting Cost: 15 Mana Points

  Description: Enhanced durability and grafting.

  ——

  Death Sense: Class Proficiency Level 2

  Description: Able to sense the bodies of the dead around you. Higher levels allow for wider ranges, including remote animating.

  ——

  Mold Manipulation: Class Proficiency Level 1

  Casting Cost: 6 Mana Points

  Description: Able to manipulate and conjure mold. Higher levels allow for stronger and further reaching creations.

  Sterling retrieved the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear and lit it, exhaling a cloud of smoke above his head. A light knock at the door signaled it was time to finish his bath.

  “It’s going to be a minute,” he called out as a vine slipped into the room and unlocked the door.

  “Gasper is here,” the Sunflower Kid said as the door squeaked open. As usual, she was dressed in an oversized white button-up shirt without a collar, moccasins on her feet, bracelets hanging from her arms. Her hair was different this morning, long and black and pulled into a lengthy braid, reminding Sterling of pictures he’d seen of natives from other parts of the States.

  “I’m busy,” he said, looking up from the tub with a grin on his face. “Is Magdalena with him?”

  The Sunflower Kid nodded.

  “Shee-it. Just be ready for anything.” The Sunflower Kid was turning away when Sterling called out to her. “Say, you got any fruit I can eat?”

  “Apples, oranges, grapes, cantaloupe, peaches…”

  “I’d love me a peach, an orange too. Hell, might as well throw in an apple.”

  A vine stretched across the floor, growing in size as it twisted toward Sterling. It scaled up the bathtub, and once it did, the fruit he requested began to grow and ripen.

  “Appreciate it,” he told the Sunflower Kid. “I’ll be out there when I’m out there.”

  Don Gasper and Magdalena stood outside of the grocery store that had been converted into a post-apocalyptic three-star hotel. As usual, Gasper was shirtless, his shorts held to his body by a rope. He wore a pair of yellow snakeskin boots, the toes just a bit more curled than they should have been. Sterling handed him a joint he’d already rolled for the old shaman.

  “You’re almost looking dapper,” Sterling told him, more or less ignoring Magdalena, who was in the same tie-dyed robes that she’d worn yesterday, a big smile on her face that made Sterling feel uneasy. Without making eye contact, he tipped his hat toward the enchantress.

  “Rest well?” Gasper asked.

  “Well enough.”

  Sterling didn’t elaborate on what happened after Gasper had left, the woman at the bar, the Sunflower Kid’s insistence that he learn to fly. He did, however, look over to where they had been standing last night, confirming that the asphalt was now mostly rubble from her vines. As casually as ever, Watermelon came from around the side of the building and the Sunflower Kid mounted up, the pronghorn sneezing in a cute way.

  “We’re not going so far,” Don Gasper said, “but if you prefer to ride your berrendo, you’re more than welcome.”

  “I’ll walk,” Sterling told him as he lit his cigarette. He also lit Gasper’s joint for him.

  “Follow me, sirs.” Magdalena turned around in a playful way, both arms out wide. She started off, her lion’s mane bouncing as her hips swayed back and forth. Gasper joined her, Sterling staying just a few steps back, not able to shake the sense of uneasiness he was feeling.

  Something ain’t right, he thought again and again, the three words practically becoming a mantra spinning around his noggin. He glanced over at the Sunflower Kid, unable to read the look on her face. Typical. Expressionless, she kept both hands on Watermelon’s horns as the pronghorn trotted along, her long dark braid of hair beating softly against her back. I’ll never figure her out, will I? Sterling looked from the Sunflower Kid back to Gasper and Magdalena, who were speaking in Spanish as they shared the joint. Where were they leading him? What had they devised?

  Sterling wished at that moment that he was a telemancer, that he could relay this message to the Sunflower Kid, but he knew she was ready. If anyone was prepared to kill on a dime, it was her.

  They headed out of town, the streets quiet aside from a man selling tamales from a repurposed ice cream cart. They passed yet another Walmart Supercenter, Sterling wondering how many had been in the state before the Reset. Like the others, this one was completely abandoned, looted, and it looked to have been ground zero for a couple battles, the walls left standing showing signs of explosions, bullet holes, and dried blood stains. The land shifted outside of the Walmart, umber hills forming, Sterling aware that the White Sands desert was on the other side. He didn’t know their proximity to the military base where the militia was holed up, but he got the sense that they weren’t very far off.

  Two ATVs appeared on the horizon heading in their direction, and Sterling went for his revolver.

  “Put your weapon away,” Don Gasper said as he turned back to Sterling.

  “Are these the people you want us to meet?” he asked, the sun at a point that it was making it hard to make out the features of the two riders heading in his direction.

  “Just stay calm. It’s not what it seems,” Gasper told him.

  As the two grew closer, Sterling saw yellow bandannas around their necks. He drew his revolver.

  “Cálmese,” Gasper said, Magdalena echoing him.

  Sterling pointed his weapon at Magdalena. “Is this a fucking setup? Because if it is…”

  Gasper stepped in front of Magdalena, glaring at Sterling for having the audacity to draw his weapon. “Put your gun away. I would never set you up.”

  “Those are Killbillies,” Sterling said, nodding to the two approaching ATVs. “Get ready,” he told the Sunflower Kid. “Enemies inbound.”

  “Weapons down,” Gasper said, h
is voice unwavering. He took a step closer to Sterling, then another step, to the point that the muzzle of Sterling’s weapon was now inches away from his forehead. “Do you intend to kill me?”

  “Gasper, get the hell out of my way.” Sterling shifted the position of his arm, pointing it again at Magdalena.

  Gasper got between the weapon and the enchantress for a second time. “This isn’t what it looks like, mi vaquero nigromante. You must hear me out.”

  With a grunt, Sterling lowered his weapon, but he kept it in his hand as the two Killbillies approached, both of them in full bandit regalia—bandannas, wraparound sunglasses, crappy prison tattoos around their muscled arms, and bulletproof vests over stained cargo pants. Magdalena approached the two and spoke to them quietly, Sterling grinding his teeth as she did so.

  “Let’s go,” she said as the two fired up their ATVs again and turned in the opposite direction, their wheels kicking up dust.

  “I don’t think you understand,” Sterling told her. “Not only have I been crucified by the Killbillies, but they’ve also murdered people I care about, and they have a bounty hunter after me. Why in the hell would I follow you to a meeting with them? Do you know how many Killbillies I’ve killed? Do you know what they want to do with me?”

  “You must see beyond that,” Magdalena said, a tight smile on her face. “Think of your… What’s her name?” she asked Don Gasper.

  “Roxy.”

  “Think of your Roxy,” she said, rolling her ‘r.’

  Sterling felt his right eye twitch. “Lady, I don’t want you using her name. You don’t know shit about me or Roxy, nor the Sunflower Kid, for that matter. Whatever you are, it ain’t right, and I know when I’m being led into a trap.”

  “Sterling, please,” Gasper said. “Put your weapon away, let’s go and hear them out. Consider it a temporary truce, no?”

  “A temporary truce? If you’re leading me to a Killbilly camp, rest assured I’m going to kill every one of them bottom-feeders before the day is over. I don’t need a truce with the Killbillies. I’ll do this on my own. And for the record, this is a setup.”