by Ian Dyer
‘Oh thanks, mister. But what you doing…’
Stephen swung his right arm and smashed his gun hand against the side of Tommys head asking the young chap fall to the floor in a heap.
Stephen kicked the unconscious Tommy hard in the gut as he lay prone on the floor. ‘As I said you stupid little cunt, I aint gonna shoot ya.’
2
Stephen kicked out at the old door and it exploded in a web of wood and iron. He charged in, Jonah leading the way screaming a bestial battle cry and he stepped from the bright desert into the gloom filled fuckery of Patience’s home. His voice echoed in the wet air and his boots crunched on alabaster bones and broken floorboards.
He came to a halt, stood exactly where he had been the day before. He hadn’t even noticed the girt to his side – he was solely focused on the bitch stood before him, her tatty black dress swaying in an unfeeling breeze, her eyes wide with murderous intent, her mouth wide showing yellowed teeth crooked and smashed with age. In her hands she grasped tight the orb known as Petra.
‘You dare enter here, Watchman. You dare to think you have the right to raise yer cunny weapon at me!’
‘Shut up, witch. Shut your fucking mouth before I fill it with lead. Where is the girl?’
Patience laughed, the orb pulsing.
‘HE IS A STRONG ONE, ISNT HE. CAN SEE WHY THEY WANT HIM,’ the strange voice from the back of the house yelled, but Stephen paid it little attention. It was the witch he was focused on.
‘Not strong…’
‘Where is the girl, Patience?’ Stephen took a step forward, stretching his gun further into the room. His eyes were ablaze and filled with a putrid green glow only Patience could see.
She nodded her acceptance of the situation. ‘I see he has taken you. Quicker than I thought, but never the mind. You are no match for me, Watchman, have I not proved that already?’ She grinned and then pursed her lips letting a little puff of her vile breath come rushing out.
The tiny breath turned into a solid wall of air and it hit Stephen hard. Dust and bones and filth flew into the air, the house rocked on its foundations but Stephen didn’t budge an inch.
Patience’s old face was wide with shock and Stephen noted a slight tremble in her hands. The orb pulsed fiercely.
‘AND ALL THE WORLD IS TURNING GREEN; HE WILL BE THE DEATH OF US, THE DEATH OF US ALL! YOU MUST DESTROY HIM, WOMAN, QUICKLY NOWS SO THAT WE CAN TAKE IT OUT AND I CAN BE FREE!’
‘What did you want with the girl, Patience?’
The witch went to move but Stephens glare forced her to stop. The room went deathly quiet, the dripping from the boiler room ceased and the scurrying rats paused in the search for food.
‘Ha, you think you are so strong and so wise. I fucking spit at what you are you petulant little cunt,’ Patience clutched the orb between her left forearm and chest using her right hand to point at him and the girl still slumped in the chair, ‘You wants to know what I wanted. Well okay. I wanted the child in her gut, boy. I wanted it and I will take it.’
Patience raised her right hand and swiped it hard towards the floor. A coil of blue spark leapt out from her fingers, spreading out light lightning before hitting the floor surrounding Stephen in an arc of hot yellow fire. There was a terrify scream, either from Patience or the wall flame, Stephen couldn’t tell which and as he fell he instinctively pulled the trigger three times.
The first bullet missed Patience by a good distance blowing a hole in her wall and smashed its way into her bedroom and into the dark wardrobe where Jonah had been kept. The second bullet was closer, much closer and Patience moved quickly to her left to get out of its way. But she had been deceived by her own magic, the noise from the fire beast released from her hand had swallowed up the third blast from Jonah and as she moved to her left the third bullet tore through the high collar of her tatty dress, ripped apart her throat and went sailing on through the house finally coming to a rest in the back wall.
‘SEEMS AS THOUGH WE ARE NEVER TO BE TOGHETHER, SWEET WOMAN.’ The mysterious voice said and then went quiet.
Stephen inhaled the smoke from the fire and before he could think to react, he passed out feeling the weight and claws of some kind of fire orange beast upon him as he went into the dark.
3
Patience kept the fire beast alive for as long as she could, but eventually she had to let it go. As the blood pooled, mixing with the gore of her throat she was reminded of her mother and the pies she made full of mashed up blackberries swimming in their own blood black juices. Her mother had been like her and had come to a similar end. She remembered the words her mother had said as she lay slumped on the bed, the knife in her chest sticking out. Both of them had loved but could not keep that love. In her last breaths, Patience repeated what her mother had said; only this time it made sense –
‘Under the old oak tree we danced, hidden in the shadows our love flew and took us away. But we can never be together, even though we try and I have to watch you disappear and hope that you come back to me in my dreams we can never be together and we must walk onto the Green Path alone. The man will come, see the green man, see him well for the green man spells the death of us all.’
As the smoke drifted out of the house it revealed to Tommy the three bodies of Patience, Susie and Stephen. He cared little for Stephen, especially now – not only had he punched him hard in the face he had killed his girlfriend and he had killed his oldest and dearest friend.
4
Tommy ran through the streets of Rockfall screaming of bloody murder. It wasn’t long before a mob was forming.
5
Stephen had skirted around the border of Rockfall, carrying the unconscious body of Susie upon his back. He had sneaked through the backstreets and found the side entrance to the Travellers Last. The mob had formed and they were baying for his blood. But a mob is stupid and Stephen wasn’t that too surprised to have made it back safely even though he was impeded by the girl slumped across his shoulders.
Walking through the empty bar, Stephen placed her gently onto the closest table to the counter and breathed out with exhaustion and relief. He stretched his back out felling, and hearing it click back into place. Stephen grabbed himself a fresh glass of water and drank it down. He was about to go for a second when he heard shuffling as Susie rolled onto her side and vomited onto the dusty floor. The sun shone through the cobwebbed window and shimmered in her hair. Even now as she lay on her side her left hand propping her up and with her head lolled over, puke streaming from her mouth she was still good looking and it would be a shame to have to go. But he had to go.
6
After a few minutes Susie stopped throwing her guts up and she stroked her hands through her hair. She had the air of someone who for a short while was unsure of what was going on. Stephen grabbed another glass of water and took it over to the stricken girl taking care to dodge the puke on the floor. In her he could see confusion.
‘The witch put a hex on you, Susie. She then tried to kill me.’ He handed her the drink and continued, ‘but she wasn’t good enough.’
Susie took a deep breath she looked at the man in front of her, her eyes working quicker than her brain.
‘Is she dead? What about Tommy, is he okay?
‘I killed her.’
Susie looked up to the man she loved her eyes squinting against the bright sun pouring through the windows.
‘You killed her!’
Stephen did not turn to face her. He had no need to now. He was distancing himself from her.
‘To say it twice does not change the outcome. She threatened me, she almost killed you. Her death was as certain as the rising sun from that moment on.’
‘What about Tommy?’
Stephen clenched his fist tight and glanced out of the window. Time was getting short. ‘He lured you to her so I taught that stupid prick a lesson.’
Susie held her head in her hands and took in a deep breath. A headache was beginning to stab at her, right in the ce
ntre of her forehead. Her mind raced. Too much had happened to her in the last few days. Behind her hands she asked ‘What did she want with me,’ Opening her hands she looked back at her lover. ‘From us?
‘From me? Nothing. I was an obstacle she didn’t expect.’ He turned and looked at the young woman. ‘From you? Blood. Blood to keep her alive. It is magic that keeps, that kept her on this world. Dark magic needs blood.’
‘But why me? Why me?
Stephen walked over and took the glass away from Susie and drank the rest of the water. It tasted so sweet. So pure. He savoured it knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was yearning for such a drink again. Placing the glass on a table behind him he finally answered.
‘She did not have time to answer my questions, Susie, and a woman like that doesn’t give up her secrets to easily.’
Susie fell silent and twisted her body so that she sat upon the table her legs dangling. She held her head in her hands as the ache in her head grew stronger. She was expecting to feel the hands of her man upon her shoulders, or his lips upon her cheek but she felt nothing. He wasn’t even looking at her anymore.
Stephen sensed her need.
‘The ache in your head will pass in time. You must understand that I had no choice, Susie, she had to die. It was either us or her. I could not let that happen.’
Susie looked up and removed her head from her hands. Her eyes were narrow, focused on the man in front of her, a man she thought that loved her.
‘What could you not let happen? Me dying or you?’
There was an uneasy silence. Stephen could have loved this girl he supposed, but there was no place for a love like that in a life meant for greater things. Though he was still unsure what those things actually were. What was becoming evident was that he needed to leave and getting into arguments, lovers tiffs, was not an option open to him. He could see the tears welling in her eyes with every passing second.
‘You are tired, Susie. You need rest and then a good long soak in a bath.’
The girl said nothing. His disdain for her was growing. Such a silly little girl. Susie couldn’t believe how distant, how un-loving Stephen was being. Without a passing glance Susie climbed off the table, walked up the creaking stairs, through the corridor, opened the bedroom door, the bedroom they once shared and slammed the door behind her.
The echo of the slam reverberated off the walls of the bar and rattled the windows and made the old piano ring out a duff chord.
The Watchman sat himself down at the bar on one of the high stools and listened until his mind blotted out the sobs and whimpers of the girl that carried his child.
7
Half an hour past by and his time here was coming to an end. Stephen remained in his lonesome chair listening and waiting. His body had almost shut down, a skill he had mastered during his final years at school. Recuperation could take days for some but for Stephen it was but a matter of minutes.
Stephens calm was quickly quashed as from the main door, a door which he closed blocking the outside world, there came a hollering.
‘STEPHEN! GET OUT HERE!’
The Watchman recognised the voice on the other side of the door and he was surprised to hear it.
Stephen stood and slid the stool under the bar. With his right hand he un-holstered Jonah. Checking the weight he had no need to load. Slowly he walked over to the main door and softly unlocked it. Twisting the knob he opened the door letting the sunlight fill the bar. He was not afraid.
The Watchman focused on the young man stood below him, the boardwalk and the stairs separating them. Behind the young man a crowd of people, forty to fifty but no more than that, stood hands raised with weapons of all descriptions flaying in the wind swept road. A blood lust had washed over the town and it was the young man in-front of him that had caused it.
‘So, young Tommy, you are here for revenge? I see you have brought the very people who mock and spit at you?’
‘You killed them. You killed Patience! You killed them all!’
The Watchman chuckled as the crowd yelled a bunch of idle threats at him.
‘They all deserved, especially her Tommy. She used this town and in time you will thank me as you thanked me when I rid this place of the Quint brothers.’
The people behind Tommy lowered their weapons and looked about themselves. They all knew the truth about the old woman who lived beyond the boundaries of the town. She was tricksy and full of hate but they needed her from time to time; when it suited their own gains or their own evils. Mostly they knew that Rockfall was better off without her.
Tommy knew more however and it once again would prolong Stephens’s time in Rockfall.
‘What about the Sheriff. Whats about those poor kids!’
The crowd reared up again, the weapons high. They wanted revenge
Stephen measured the situation whilst the crowd bade for his blood and Tommy egged them on every step of the way.
The shouting from the crowd grew as the minutes passed without answer from the Watchman. They all were watching him; waiting for his defence. Waiting for him to raise the weapon and fire it. They would be upon him like waves upon the shore and they would break him. That they were sure of. They would break him. String him up like the criminals of old.
Sensing a presence behind him, Stephen focused back onto Tommy as he saw the young man move toward him.
‘Stay away from him, Susie. Stays away. He is evil.’
Stephen did not turn when he spoke to the girl.
‘Go back inside, Susie.’
She scanned the angry crowd. She had heard what Tommy was saying. It was hard not to. They claimed Stephen had killed John and Cathy, two people she cared little for, but the children. She had watched them grow up. Taught the girls how to sow and the boys how to play tricks. She couldn’t believe Stephen was capable of such things.
‘Why did you kill them?’ She asked quietly taking the Watchman by surprise.
‘Just go inside, Susie.’
‘GET AWAY FROM HIM!’
‘Why did you kill them, Stephen?’
‘Go inside, Susie, please.’
‘GET AWAY, SUSIE!’
‘Why did you kill them?’
Stephen turned and grabbed Susie by the arms. He pushed her back through the doors and inside the Travellers.
The crowd surged forward and this time it was unable to stop itself. Stephen turned to see the crowd pouring up the stairs and across the sidewalk. Their arms were raised, their weapons; items grabbed quickly like axes, mallets, hammers, rakes and sticks would do so much damaged if left to do so. The Watchman ran to the main door, causing Susie to fall to the floor, and slammed it shut locking it tight. Hands pummelled it and he could hear them all crying out for justice. Crying out for blood. The mob mentality was taking over now. Soon, once all the blood had been spilt and the bodies were being counted they would question why. The Watchman staggered back toward the stairs almost tripping over Susie who was still lying on the floor.
‘Why did you do it, Stephen? I thought you were a good man. I thought you loved me?’
Stephen turned and faced the main door, which was fairing quite well under the pressure. Susie began to cry again and her sobs were an annoyance to Stephen. He was preparing himself now. Thinking of all outcomes. Readying himself for the quickness needed to take down so many so fast.
‘ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTIONS, STEPHEN!’
Stephen shook his head. He had no need for this.
‘The truth is not what you want Susie. But you will never give up until you have it.’ Stephen removed his gaze from the door and looked Susie straight in the eye. He was the teacher now, not a plucky student. He was a man, a man that could end worlds, end lives and destroy hearts.
‘So much like me you are, Susie. Always looking for answers to question we have no right in asking. I killed them all.’
Susie burst into tears. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to rip out her own eyes in fury but she had not the stre
ngth to do it.
‘Why?’ She simply asked behind the tears and the sobs.
‘Because that is my purpose, Susie. My King requests and I deliver. He works, we work for a greater future one that you people will only appreciate once the work is done.’
The thudding on the door worsened and a few of the windows began to smash. The crowd were not going to take a locked door to stop them.
‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Stephen?’
The question fell on deaf ears as Stephen focused his mind back onto the job at hand. The windows had all but gone now and the door was starting to splinter under the pressure. The people had broken through. Susie got up quick and ran; Stephen raised Jonah and scanned the few meters between him and the door. The killing ground was small and the bodies would pile high making it awkward for the rest to follow in and thus making them easy targets.
Maybe, just maybe, Stephen would walk away today.
8
Stephens mind was awash with thought. He had eight slugs in Jonah, a further sixteen, that’s two reloads, in the small pouch tied to his belt. Stephen knew he could reload fast, like a blur to the naked eye, but would he be quick enough to reload twice with dozens of people flooding through the door?
He would find out quicker than he hoped, that was certain.
The Watchman looked about him for a chance glimpse of cover but found none. He had to hope that he could level off a good ten or more and then, if all goes well, the others would see the blood, hear the cries of pain and anguish, and run away as quick as their quivering legs could carry them.
The wooden door, with a thunderous crack, split and smashed open. Susie ran for cover behind the wooden bar, Stephen steadied himself, raised Jonah and aimed at the throng of people flooding in.
9
Jonah screamed twice.
The first two men fell, one with a burst chest the other with a hole in his right eye both wounds gushing blood thick and fast. They did not scream as death was instant.
Three more screams from Jonah.
