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Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

Page 37

by A. H. Rousseau


  Cassidy and Gideon stood at the top of the stairs waiting for Jebediah.

  “Everything alright?” asked Cassidy.

  Jebediah paused in thought, looked back down the stairs, then turned to Cassidy. “Yes. I saw a suspicious man sitting in the bar. He was watching us.”

  “Did you recognize him?” asked Cassidy.

  “No. I didn't. It's likely nothing of importance. This is a rough town, after all. May just be some anxious cattle rustler.”

  Cassidy nodded but pursed her lips, obviously in thought. “Perhaps. If he was enough to make you stop, though... I will sleep lightly tonight.”

  “Yes,” replied Jebediah. “But I was going to do that regardless.”

  “Where are you two situated?” asked Cassidy.

  Jebediah pointed down the long hallway toward the back of the building. “Down at the end. Room forty-two.”

  Cassidy pointed down the short hallway that lead to the side of the building. “I'm right there. Room six. Balcony and everything. Very nice.”

  “How luxurious,” said Gideon.

  “I know! I feel so special,” replied Cassidy.

  “Goodnight,” said Jebediah, with a slight bow.

  “Yes, yes. Goodnight, Jeb,” said Cassidy as he walked off. Cassidy then turned to Gideon. “Well, see you in the morning.”

  “Yep,” Gideon replied, nodding. “goodnight.” Gideon then turned and went down the same hallway as Jebediah.

  Cassidy unlocked her room and stepped inside. The room was dark save for the dull glow of the wall-mounted gas lamps and the illumination provided by the lights in the park across the street. She reached up by the door and turned the valve on the gas lamp, bringing it to full brightness, drenching the room in a golden light. Her room was small but well furnished. To her right was a small dresser and mirror, and just beyond that was the well-dressed bed with a pile of fresh linens on it. Beyond the bed was the window, open, with a cool breeze causing the diaphanous curtains to billow into the room. Cassidy inhaled deeply, her chest puffing out, as her hair moved in the wind. She gave her face an exhausted rub with both hands before taking off her jacket and boots.

  She stepped out through the window onto the large walk-around balcony. A couple stood out there about twenty feet away, just watching the sky. She leaned her arms on the railings, looking over the park as a few people still milled about in it. “Lively town,” she said quietly. The couple abdicated the southern end of the balcony and walked back into the hotel through a door. “Oh. A door,” Cassidy said to herself. “That makes sense.”

  Cassidy walked over to the southern end of the balcony, as far away from the lights of the park as she could get, and she stared into the sky, the stars slowly becoming more visible as her eyes adjusted. She breathed in deeply and exhaled a quivering, stress-filled breath as she closed her eyes. She stood there for a moment, seemingly having a hard time breathing, before opening her eyes and composing herself. She then stood up and walked into the door.

  Cassidy walked back into her room and sat on the bed, looking at herself in the mirror. She lingered on her face for a moment before she flopped onto the bed, her red hair exploded across the surface of the pillow. She grunted and sighed and scratched at her crotch before closing her eyes.

  ---

  A creak and Cassidy's eyes shot open with a quiet gasp. Her gaze darted to the door. Her heart pounded as she slowly, gracefully, quietly, rotated her body and placed her feet on the floor. She slowly pivoted on the balls of her feet and grabbed her gun from the dresser, pointing it at the door. The creaks outside continued while the door handle slowly turned. Cassidy's eyes widened as she readied her gun. The door opened a crack, the light from the hallway leaking in. The door stood motionless for a moment.

  “Cassidy?” Gideon's voice said.

  Cassidy's stress and fear deflated with a large exhale. “Gideon! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Sorry. Your door was unlocked and I was concerned,” Gideon replied, opening the door wider and peaking his head in.

  “Why were you trying to open my door to begin with?”

  “Just doing a security check of sorts, I suppose. After, well, after everything, I'm nervous.”

  Cassidy sighed and smiled. “Well, thank you for the concern, but I am fine.”

  “Yeah, so is Jebediah.”

  “Thank you for the update. I'm sure everyone in the hotel will be fine with you on the case.”

  Gideon nodded, obviously still uncomfortable. “Ok. Well, I think that I'm going to, uh, going to continue wandering around.”

  “Don't shoot anyone, alright. The last thing we need is that psychotic Marshal giving us trouble.”

  “I'm on it,” Gideon said.

  “Good, good... now get out of here.”

  “Right! Yes... Goodnight,” Gideon said, closing the door. Cassidy put her gun on the dresser, reached up and turned the wall lamp down to a dull glow. She then flopped back down onto the bed.

  ---

  Cassidy lay on the bed, the blanket wrapped around her while still mostly dressed, snoring. One of her socks had fallen off and her hair appeared to pop out from every corner of the blanket-wrapped ball that was Cassidy.

  A creak. Silence. Shadows under the door. The slow turning of the door knob. Then, the delicate, quiet, careful insertion of a key into the door. Click... click... click... then the quiet, dull thunk of the lock falling out of place. The door knob turned but paused at the sudden cessation of Cassidy's snoring. A moment. A snore. Then the knob started turning again.

  The door slowly opened, the hallway light dim and low. Cassidy's snoring poured out into the hall. A shadow loomed as the door silently opened wider. A flash of metal. Nervous eyes.

  “Move and die,” said Cassidy's voice from the bed.

  The man's eyes widened with surprise as Cassidy rose from her bed in the darkness, the glint of her gun pointed at the door. The man stared at her, confused.

  “What?” Cassidy asked. She then made a loud snoring sound. “Come on, then. Put your gun down.” The man complied. “Now open the door and turn up the lamp. Let's get a look at you.” The man again, complied. It was the strange man from the bar, earlier in the evening. “My lord, you are a terrible assassin, aren't you,” Cassidy said, standing from the bed.

  The sound of a gun cocking. Cassidy turned her head slightly, surprised and confused. Then, as she was turning to the face the window, a gunshot. Cassidy's body reeled around and her head bashed into the dresser. She lay there, motionless, in a growing pool of blood. Her would-be assassin stood in the door, his face blown out with shock and fear. He then looked up in time to see the curtains billow to the side, revealing Mr. Caesar standing on the balcony, his gun aimed. The two made eye-contact. Mr. Caesar was emotionless as he turned his gun toward the man and fired a single shot into his heart. The man lurched back against the hallway wall and fell, leaving a streak of blood down to the floor. The curtain billowed side to side, and Mr. Caesar was gone.

  Only moments later, a young hotel maid came rushing around the corner. “Up here!” she yelled. “First floor!” The young woman ran over to the man slumped in the hallway. She tended to him as Jebediah appeared in the hallway, partially dressed. He ran over and past the two in the hallway and burst into Cassidy's room, finding her limp on the ground, a pool of blood around her body.

  “Cassidy!” he said loudly, dropping to his knees by her. He turned her body over, her face covered in blood. He started feeling all over her body in a panic. Gideon appeared in the doorway.

  “Jebediah!”

  Jebediah turned. “Go! Get the doctor. Get the doctor now!” Gideon nodded and ran off.

  “Is she dead?” asked the maid.

  “I don't know... I don't know.... God... I think she is. So much blood loss.” Jebediah continued to feel around Cassidy's torso. “Where... where...” he mumbled.

  The maid ran off as other people, including the hotel manager, appeared in the hallway.
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  Jebediah started to strip off her clothing and found no wound. No blood. All of the blood seemed to be coming from her head. Cassidy groaned, causing Jebediah to lose interest in his wound hunt. He lifted himself up on his knees and held Cassidy's face with his hands, damp blood all over. “Cassidy?! Cassidy?! Say something, Cassidy!” He slapped her cheek lightly.

  Cassidy groaned. “... Dad... Dad.”

  “Shit,” Jebediah said. By now, the hallway was filled with people. “Anyone with a strong back, out there?!” Jebediah yelled out. Two hotel employees appeared.

  “Yes?” one of them said.

  “Here! Help me get her onto the bed. Prop up her head. It's what's bleeding.” The three men lifted Cassidy onto the bed. Her blood-soaked hair staining the pillow and white bed linens. “Water. I need water. I need to try to clean this up,” Jebediah said. “Boil it first! And bring me the strongest alcohol that the bar has!” Cassidy moved her head slightly and groaned. “Cassidy? Cassidy, it's Jebediah. I'm here with you. I'm taking care of things. Alright? I'm here with you.” Cassidy didn't move. Jebediah's face was distorted with concern and sadness. He stared at Cassidy, holding her hand.

  ---

  A long hallway. Lights. It stretches on and on. There's something on the other side. I can almost see it. If I squint, I can almost make out more. It's always blurry. Why can't I make out more?

  Above the ground. No feet. Floating.

  Fear. Crying. “Papa!” Cassidy cries. “Papa!” in a voice both young and old. “ I can help!”

  “No, Cassidy. You can't. You know you can't.”

  “Yes I can!”

  Gray. Shadows. Lights. Cold. “Where are you!”

  “I'm right here! Over here!”

  Hiding. Boxes. Can't completely hide. Parts of my body are always visible. I can't hide.

  They don't see me. Maybe they do. They're coming. Who are they? Yes! They are! They are coming for me. But they don't see me. Not yet. Why can't I hide!?

  Maybe that crate. That wall. That wall. It's just there. I can hide behind it easily. But it's too small now. Everything is too small. I am too small.

  “Cassidy!”

  “Mama! I knew it! Over here! I can't fit but maybe you can!” No. You won't fit.

  “I can't fit!”

  “It's your dress. It's my dress! They're too big! We need to stop wearing these dresses. We can't hide with them! We need to hide! Take it off!”

  “I can't, Cassidy!” sobbing. “I can't take it off! You've already taken yours off but I can't even get my shoes undone!”

  “I can help! I can help!” My hands are too big. I can't get the laces undone. I can't get my fingers into the laces! They're too big!

  “No, Cassidy! You can't help!”

  “Papa!”

  “It's him! You have to stop him!” The shadow. I knew it was the shadow. That man! Punching. Kicking. Nothing is happening. I can't hurt him. Why is he so big!?

  “Cassidy! Shoot him!”

  “I can't!” I can't move my hand. My eyes won't open. Why won't they open. My hands can't open them. I can't aim. My hand won't wrap around the gun. I can't shoot. I can't move my arm right.

  “Shoot, Cassidy! Shooooot!!!!”

  ---

  Gideon appeared at the door, the doctor — a tall, fit, handsome young man with a hint of Spanish ancestry in his predominantly white face — behind him. Jebediah looked up and sighed in relief. “Doctor. Wonderful. Thank you for coming at such a late hour.”

  “That's what I do,” said the doctor. “What happened?”

  “Unknown,” said Jebediah, rising from the bed to give space for the doctor. “We heard two gunshots, and when we all arrived, that man was dead in the hallway and Cassidy here lay in a pool of blood.”

  The doctor sat down and donned his stethoscope, placing it against Cassidy's chest. He moved it to a couple more places. “Breathing and heartbeat seem strong,” said the doctor as Jebediah, Gideon, and the hotel manager looked on.

  Jebediah nodded. “Yes. She doesn't appear to have been shot. I think all of the blood was coming from her head.”

  The doctor lifted up slightly and leaned over Cassidy to look at her head. “Are there any other lamps in this room?”

  The hotel manager shook his head. “No. But I can go get a lantern.”

  “Please do,” said the doctor. “I need more light.” He returned his attention to Cassidy's head, clearing aside crusty hair. “Oof,” said the doctor. “Yeah. That is a nasty whack. How long as she been unconscious?”

  “Ummm,” Jebediah began, taking out his pocket watch. “About thirty minutes.”

  The doctor grumbled a sound of concern as he pawed around on Cassidy's head, pressing lightly. “It doesn't... feel... too bad,” said the doctor. “I don't think that—”

  “ooooOOOOW!” Cassidy bellowed, sitting bolt upright with a lurch. She grabbed onto the doctor's shoulder with one hand and propped herself up with her other hand. She was wide-eyed and breathing heavily as everyone stared at her. “What's going on?” she asked, here eyes darting about the room. Her father. Her mother. Mr. Caesar. Nobody. Just the doctor and Jebediah. “Jeb?”

  “Alright, first, Cassidy, everyone is fine. We are all here. Everything is ok. So don't worry about anything.” Cassidy nodded and swallowed loudly. “Now, second, you have been injured. Do you remember anything about it?”

  Cassidy eyes went distant as she thought.

  “Maybe a better question is what do you last remember?” asked the doctor.

  “Ummm... Gid... Gideon came into my room. He was seeing if I was alright. I don't... remember what we talked about.” Everyone turned to Gideon.

  “We didn't talk about much of anything,” said Gideon. “I checked on her because the door was unlocked, she said not to worry and then kicked me out.”

  Cassidy was nodding. “Yes... Yes, I remember that.”

  “You don't remember anything else?” asked Jebediah.

  “No. Nothing. What happened?” Cassidy grimaced. “Oh god, my head is killing me.”

  “Yeah,” replied the doctor, checking on Cassidy's head. “I'm not surprised. You have sustained a monster whack on the head.”

  Cassidy reached up to touch her injury with her left hand and grimaced even harder. “Nope! It's not just that.” She reached behind her with her left hand and touched her back. “Something back here hurts even more.”

  “Oh, um,” said the doctor, awkwardly.

  “Here, get me a chair. I can sit on it backwards.” Cassidy spoke as she stiffly moved off the bed, the doctor getting up to make a path for her. “You boys better clear out,” she said, pointing to the two men in the hallway. “I'm going to be getting indecent.”

  “Oh, right, ahem, yes,” the men all awkwardly said as they shuffled about.

  “Jeb, Gideon, I'd like it if you stayed, if you're comfortable with that,” added Cassidy. Both men nodded. Jebediah grabbed the chair from near the window and placed it by Cassidy and then stood by the door with Gideon. Cassidy unbuttoned her shirt and stiffly, grimacing and groaning in pain, extracted her arms from the sleeves, revealing a tightly-knitted, somewhat thick, black undershirt. She grabbed the bottom and, growling loudly in pain, pulled it over her head. As she did, a gargantuan bruise with a lightly bleeding center was revealed on the left side of her back.

  “Jesus Christ,” said Jebediah quietly.

  “Do you need me to unhook the brassiere?” asked Cassidy.

  “Uh, yes. If you don't mind,” said the doctor. Cassidy reached behind and undid the series of hooks, causing the straps to fall to the left and the right. She then sat down on the chair, facing the window. The doctor stood to the side to let the light from the lamp cover her wound. He delicately touched the expansive bruise — somewhat circular, with shades of purple and blue throughout.

  “Good lord,” said the doctor. “It's like someone hit you with a post. What could have caused this?”

  “A bullet,” Cassidy sigh
ed.

  “A bullet?” asked the doctor, surprised.

  “Yes,” added Gideon. “You're bulletproof, now?”

  “No, that black shirt is.”

  “What?!” said Gideon and Jebediah simultaneously.

  “Yeah. It's one of my company's toys. It's a special material made in layers with metal threading in it. It's hot as all hell and a bitch to wear, but you can understand why I've been keeping it on. Is my rib broken?”

  The doctor leaned down to the bruise, placing one hand under Cassidy's left arm and the other hand on her back. “This is going to hurt,” he said. He then pressed with both hands. Cassidy's face nearly broke in agony but kept silent. “No. I don't think so,” he said. “It's just tissue damage.”

  Cassidy exhaled in relief. “Ohhhhh... godddd. I must look and smell like shit.”

  A loud knock came at the door. “Who is it?” yelled Cassidy.

  “It's Marshall Stoudenmire.”

  “Oh shit,” Cassidy grumbled. “Here, toss me my shirt.” Jebediah handed her the shirt as she reattached the bra, “One moment!” Cassidy quickly threaded her arms into the sleeves and started buttoning it. “Alright, let him in,” she said to Gideon, who opened the door. The Marshall walked in.

  “It seems that you were right. You did find time to cause trouble,” he started.

  “A murder attempt on me isn't what I would call starting trouble,” Cassidy replied. Stoudenmire squinted suspiciously, looking around the room.

  “What happened?” Stoudenmire asked Jebediah.

  “I was shot,” said Cassidy. Stoudenmire then turned to Cassidy.

  “By who?”

  “Actually, since you're here, perhaps you could give us some help on that,” said Jebediah. “Do you know that man?”

  “No I do not,” Stoudenmire said. “I already looked at him.”

  “Well, that is the man who shot me,” said Cassidy.

  “And you shot him back?”

  “Yep. My handiwork is unmistakeable. It's all the blood and death that gives it away.”

  Stoudenmire stood in the door for a moment, looking at Cassidy, bruised and covered in blood, then looking at the dead man in the hallway. “Alright. Wrap him up. Get him out of here so the maids can clean this shit up.”

 

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