by McCabe, R. J
The beast was stood in the middle of the street as if waiting for Bill, who stepped onto the wooden decking outside the saloon and held up his hand, signalling for them to shut the door behind him and so they did.
The beast eyed him, and Bill in turn eyed the beast whilst slowly raising his gun. Bill noticed that the creature seemed a little more lethargic than it had hours before. Perhaps the injuries had begun, finally, to take their toll.
Then the big cat snarled and bared its long teeth but the aggression that had been there the previous night just didn't seem as intense. However, Bill wasn’t fooling himself and knew that as soon as he let the first shot go the beast would be at him, so he had to make it count.
The sheriff took a step towards the mountain lion and began to position the shotgun for the best shot possible. The beast took two slow steps forward before pushing down on its haunches in order to get maximum spring. This is it, Bill thought, it was kill or be killed. Sweat covered him in a blanket of droplets and his heart rate was up again.
The beast let out a final demonic growl, its white eyes glowing and it spat saliva from its oversized mouth and then… It fell over onto its side and died.
Bill was stunned and it took him a few moments to realise what was going on. The beast had simply flopped onto its side and now no movement or sound came from the body of the fallen creature. Bill walked slowly towards it, the gun pointed at the mountain lion just incase.
When he reached the creature he gave it a shove with his boot and realised that finally it was dead. The strange thing was that it looked like it had been dead some time, its body rocked slightly when kicked as if already stiff but how could that be?
Bill put the gun against the big cats head and thought about pulling the trigger but he heard a sound which caused him to look up and he saw a boy, around ten years of age, looking at him. Bill decided he didn't want the boy remembering the day he saw the sheriff blow the head off an already dead animal and so he took the barrel away from the things head and gave the boy a wave. The boy turned and ran back to wherever he had come from and Bill thought how bad things could have been if the boy had shown up just ten minutes earlier.
The doors behind him opened and there stood Ken, Monty and the other two men who had been in the bar with them. Bill hadn't asked their names but no doubt he would learn them in time. Ken approached Bill and the beast.
‘Damn Bill, you did it and I didn't even hear a gunshot.’
‘I never heard one either. I didn’t do anythin’. The thing just keeled over and died’
‘Is that so? Well, that is just the queerest thing,’ said Ken scratching his chin.
‘Maybe not! The body is kinda stiff like the thing has been dead longer than a few minutes so for me, that’s the queerest thing.’ Bill said looking down on the creature.
‘The hell you say,’ Ken replied and gave the big cat a kick, the body thudded.
‘Fuck me sideways Sheriff. That is some crazy shit. We gonna bury it? Don't want whatever its got gettin' out.’
‘Somethin' tells me that wont be a problem but I guess you never know. Im gonna put it somewhere until I can get someone in to take a look at it. This shit is all too weird and I cant help but think its all linked.’
‘You mean to Joel, those missin' folks and now this?’ said Ken, his face scrunched in confusion.
‘That’s exactly what I mean. Help me get this thing into the cell.’
‘The cell? Sheriff I think it’s a bit late to arrest it.’ Ken let out a chuckle.
‘I thought I’d let you question him, now help me get him over to the cell Ken as I don’t want anyone seein' it,’ said Bill, a weary smile on his face. The two men dragged the animal into the sheriffs office and into one of the cells.
‘So what now sheriff?’ Ken asked.
‘Well, I can’t rightly go home and go to sleep, which is what id like to do most right now, so there’s only one other thing for it Deputy.’
‘And what would that be Bill?’
‘Im going to get rat-assed drunk. You however, can feel free to take the day off and get some rest,’ Bill said placing a hand on Ken’s shoulder.
‘The hell I will!’ the deputy replied. ‘I can sleep plenty when I’m dead but for now I’m goin' with you boss.’ Ken smiled a big smile that showed a couple of gold teeth.
‘So be it,’ replied a tired Bill and the two men left the office and headed back to the saloon.
17
Dust rose up and the ground thudded as Jack Blackwater rode into town, escorted by his ten best men, two of whom rode in front of Jack eyeing anyone who got too close.
When they reached the town of Sundown, many of the people that had been milling around went quickly indoors, not wanting to attract the attention of Jack or his men. Everyone knew who he was and he played his part well. Dressed in a black stetson, with all black clothes and boots and seated on a large black horse, Jack looked every bit the bad guy.
The horses halted in the middle of the town, a town that Jack new very well and he took in the view. He dismounted his horse and continued to look around.
‘Comin' back here always feels like returnin' home, even though just about everybody has got their asses indoors at the sight of me. Talk about judgin' a book by his cover.’ Jack said to none in particular.
Jack though, was aware that it wasn’t just his appearance that had got everyone hiding, his reputation was wide spread and he knew it.
‘Men, tie the horses up just over there and let’s go and get us a well earned drink. It’s been a hell of a ride down here.’ Jack said and headed towards Monty’s place.
The men did as Jack said and after tying up the horses they followed the millionaire into the saloon.
When Jack walked into Monty’s place, a quick scan of the room let him know there were two men looking drunk in the corner another at the far end of the room and a young man sitting by himself. It seemed like none of the men noticed him walk in, or at least pretended not to. Jack gestured to his men to take a seat and he himself walked up to the bar giving Monty a big smile that, although was meant to look friendly, still made Jack look intimidating.
‘Long time no see Monty. How’s this place doin' these days?’
‘Oh it’s tickin' over y’know.’ Monty tried to act calm but couldn't hide the trembling in his voice.
Not only had he got Jack Blackwater looking at him, but he had another ten pairs of eyes burning into him.
‘Thats good to hear,’ said Jack slamming a hand down onto the bar. ‘Too many of these little towns are turnin' to shit these days, just lawless hellholes with no-one havin' a buck to scratch their asses with, which reminds me.’
Jack turned and looked directly at the young man who was sitting on his own. The man had been watching the conversation and as Jack spun round and made eye contact with the man, he shot back as if he'd been slapped, almost falling off his chair.
‘Hey you! Come over here please,’ Jack said to the man gesturing to him by curling a leather gloved finger, black leather of course.
‘Who me? Sir I’
‘You want to speak to me boy then come say it at the bar, like a real man and not from over there,’ said Jack, still wearing that smile.
The young man didn't seem to want to get up but now there were another ten men looking at him and he felt well and truly peer pressured. He got up from his chair and walked sheepishly over to the bar.
‘Thats a nice set of pistols you got on you son, you any good with em?’
The man looked down at his guns, and found himself wishing he hadn't been wearing them. He looked up into that boney, high cheekbone face of Jack Blackwater.
‘I’m okay, nothin' special.’
‘Come now boy. Down playin' yourself ain’t gonna get you anywhere in life. Say, you like a drink don’t ya?’
‘Erm, yeah I guess,’ said the young man.
‘You don't seem too sure of anythin' much.’ Jack said, a slight look of disappointme
nt on his face before turning towards the barman.
‘Monty get me four shots of the best liquor you got in this place and make it quick as I got things that need seein' to.’
‘Sir yes sir,’ replied Monty and set about pouring the four drinks.
Jack turned and eyed the young man.‘What’s your name son?
‘Timmy. Timmy Malforth.’
‘Malforth you say? You any relation to Ben Malforth?’
The young man’s face relaxed and he smiled. ‘Yes, Sir, he was my grandfather, he's passed now though.’
Jacks face was still portraying no emotion.‘You don't say. You know that grandfather of yours, he was a rotten old son of a bitch and he still owes me a whole lotta money. You gonna be the one who pays me back?’
Timmy’s face went from a smile to a look of sheer panic in a split second and he seemed to struggle for something to say. Jack let out a loud laugh and smacked the young man on the shoulder.
‘Jesus kid lighten up, I was only jokin'. Not about your grandfather, he really was a piece of shit but that ain’t got nothin' to do with you now does it? You gotta go find you some balls as you can’t have an old bastard like me talkin' to you anyhow he pleases and makin' you shit your britches.’
‘Okay,’ was all young Timmy could muster.
The barman placed the drinks on the bar and Jack grabbed one, he slid the other towards Timmy. Jack raised his glass. ‘To that old shit hole, cocksucker Ben Malforth, may he rot in hell and burn every day.’ Jack waited for the young man to touch his glass with his own, Timmy did just that and the two men drank back the whiskey.
‘Damn that ain’t half bad.’ Jack said and then he picked up the second glass.
‘Here’s to you gettin' some nuts by the next time I roll into this town again,’ said Jack again raising his glass.
Timmy muttered something about balls and chinked glasses with Blackwater. Both men downed their shots, Timmy coughed as he swallowed his.
‘You enjoy that Tim?’ asked Jack.
‘Yes sir, that there is good liquor.’
‘Good, now I ain’t never one for 'one good deed deserves another' and most of the time I give and don’t expect nothin' back. I'm just happy in the satisfaction I've helped out but this time I do need somethin' from you in return.’
The young man’s face darkened and he began to look very unsure of the whole situation. ‘Sir you didn't say nothin' about no favour.’
‘Well, that’s correct but sometimes I don't always say whats on my mind right away and just forgot to mention it.’ Jack said with a smile.
‘Sir, Mr. Blackwater, I ain’t into killin' or nothin' like that.’
Jack looked at the young man in surprise and then let out a howl of laughter. Some of his men joined in, the rest just sat looking on. Jack looked over at his ten protectors.
‘Did you hear this kid? Thought I wanted him to kill somebody’ Jack turned his attention back to Timmy ‘You know boy, sometimes you shouldn't listen to all of the shit people talk about others. If I wanted someone killin' I got men here I'm sure would do it a whole lot better and quicker than you would. No, I don't want no killin' done. I would however, like you to go and get the sheriff for me as he and I have got a little business with him so I'm told. Do you think you could do that?’
Timmy looked relieved, ‘Yes sir, I can do that.’
‘Good.Then get to it Timmy my boy,’ Jack said.
Timmy walked away but instead of walking out of the door as Jack had expected, he walked over to the two men Jack had taken for regular drunks over by the window. One of the men, a good looking fella in a cream stetson, waved a drunken hand at Timmy and Timmy in turn walked over to Jack like a dog with his tail between his legs.
‘Sir I …’Timmy mumbled.
‘Son’ Jack interrupted. ‘I asked you to get the sheriff for me so are you tellin' me that drunken man there in the cream hat is the sheriff?’ His face expressing confusion.
‘Yes, sir, that there is the Sheriff Bill James. He's just told me to kindly go away and leave him alone. He said he’s got some thinkin' and drinkin' to do.’
‘Did he now? Well, that ain’t no way for a sheriff to be talkin' . I'll go and speak to him myself and you son, can just go about your business. Have yourself a good day.’
‘Yes, sir Mr. Blackwater.’ and with that Timmy scarpered out of the saloon.
Jack looked over at the two men. They seemed to be in deep conversation but both looked a little worse for wear. Jack took off his black hat and used his hand to smooth his once black, but now grey hair before replacing the hat softly back onto his head. He then walked over to the two men, his shiny spurs jangled as his feet hit the floor. A couple of his men began to get up off their seats to go with him but Jack simply lifted his hand and the men sat back down and watched. Jack turned back to the barman.
‘Get each of my men two drinks of that nice whiskey barman as they’ve had a long ride’
‘Okay Mr. Blackwater’ Monty replied.
Jack approached the table but neither Bill nor Ken bothered to look at him. Both of the men seemed to be looking towards the near empty bottle of whiskey in the centre of the table. ‘Say, I’m lookin' for the sheriff, I don’t suppose either of you fine fella’s might know where I can find him?’
‘He’s closer than you think,’ Ken said slurring.
‘But more gone than you can imagine,’ said Bill, his eyes bloodshot. ‘I heard he went and became an Apache wife and married the metal dog.’ Bill continued and the two men burst into laughter.
‘I think you'll find that is the Iron Dog’ said Jack, a smirk on his face. 'I heard that the last sheriff of this town got stripped naked and used as target practice, ain’t that right Ken?'
Ken stopped laughing and a look of realisation seemed to appear on his face and he slowly looked up towards Jack. ‘Jack,’ said Ken his mouth dropping open.
‘Hello their Ken. Long time no see. Looks like you havin' yourselves a party here, what’s the celebration?’
Ken grabbed Bill’s arm and shook it. ‘Sheriff Bill, this here is Jack Blackwater.’ Bill’s head was nodding as if he was falling asleep, he looked hazily up at Ken.
‘Oh, so this is Sheriff Bill?, well how bout that' said Jack. ‘Say Ken, you mind givin' me and the sheriff here a bit of privacy?’
‘No sir Mr. Blackwater, I need to go get me a change of clothes and a wash anyhow, it’s been a long damn night.’
‘Well, okay then,’ said Jack and watched Ken walk away from the table and out of the saloon doors. A second later he popped his head back through.
‘Say, you don't plan on causin' any trouble with Sheriff Bill there do ya Mr Blackwater? He’s a good man and I can’t leave if there is gonna be any commotion?’
‘No Ken, I promise you there wont be any trouble,’ saidJack. Ken seemed happy with that and ducked back out of the door and disappeared.
‘So, Sheriff Bill isn't it? You’re the man they sent to fill Sheriff Watts’s boots? That’ll be one hell of a task as Sheriff Watts was a real special man.’
‘Yeah, so I'm told,’ Bill said, still not taking his eyes from the bottle of whiskey in front of him.
‘They still haven't caught the folks that did that to him, I’d like to see them hang whoever it was I can tell you that. Anyway Sheriff, word has it that you have my son here and that you and Ken found him out in the dirt and saved his life.’
For the first time since Jack came into the place Bill looked at him. Jack was everything Bill had expected, a chiseled, good looking man for his age, smartly dressed with a presence that was unmistakable. He looked from Jack to the ten men that were seated at the table by the bar then back to Jack.
‘Those the best you got?’ Bill said gesturing towards the men.
‘Sheriff they are the best anyones got and not all from America. Those boys are the best in the world. Tatsu there is from Japan and he's the best Samurai they have. He can fight with his hands or a blade in a way I
have never seen the likes. He's good with a pistol too, but the other boys that you see there are thee best with a pistol. Trent at the back there was born and raised Apache until a group of white bandits took their camp and he and some others in his camp, were taken as slaves, while the rest were just slaughtered. Trent escaped, killed his captors and came across me in a bar in Dakota. He doesn't like nor trust the white man in general but he knows I take care of him and so he trusts me. He can track, he can fight, and he can do some spooky magic shit that scares the bejesus out of me. Better to have him with me than against me is the way I see it. Anyway sheriff, why you ask?’
‘Well,’ Bill said removing the hat from his head. ‘I've only been here a couple of days and there has been some strange fuckin' things goin' on. Look at me, it’s the middle of the day and I'm sat in the god damn saloon drinkin' to try and cope with what happened last night.’
‘Somethin' went down last night?’ Jack asked.
‘You could say that. A deformed, mess of a mountain lion that looked like it crawled straight outta hell decided to pay the town a visit. We put six or seven shots into the thing and it wouldn't stay down.’
Jack thought on this for a moment. ‘Shit Sheriff, sounds like you need some lessons in how to aim your gun properly, least I can do seein' as you saved my boy.’
Bill regarded the smiling Jack for a moment before speaking. ‘I didn't save your boy Jack, I couldn't save him.’
Jack gave Bill a look of incomprehension before letting out a short laugh. ‘I don't rightly follow you. Wheres Joel Sheriff? Wheres my son?’
‘He’s dead,’ said Bill this time not looking at Jack when he spoke.
‘Dead? Thats got to be a mistake, I was told that my son was found alive and that he had been bought here to help recover.’
‘That was all true at the time. We bought him back here but he’s injuries were too severe. Joel had lost too much blood and he died over in my house, on my bed in-fact and he was mutterin' some weird shit before he passed.’
Jack Blackwater put a finger to his lips and made a shushing sound at Bill. ‘Don’t say anymore. Where is the body?’
