by Travis Bughi
The Stouts watched John spin his six-shooters cylinders again before clicking them closed. He blinked a lot after and then squinted into the distance. No behemoth could be seen yet, but the horizon was obscured by hills and heat. Paul was looking the aged gunslinger over and licked his lips with unsaid words. Finally, he just spoke plainly.
“Are you sure you’re in good enough condition for this?” he asked. “The behemoth may be close to giving out, but he’s a full grown male with a horn so large that his eyes are partially covered. You’ll need good sight and aim.”
The gunslinger continued to stare into the distance for a moment before turning to Emily’s father and releasing a heavy sigh.
“I know my eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he said regretfully, “but I know of no other life than the one I’ve been living. I got twelve bullets, but I only have to hit once. I’ll take those odds any day.”
Paul didn’t have a response to that. He swallowed and nodded, and John returned that nod, making shadows play across his face. Then a soft thud was heard in the distance, and every head turned towards it. There was another, and then another, a thud that was deep yet muffled. It was rhythmic and grew louder, and all attention was drawn west. Emily spotted her brother, Abe, riding towards them at a full gallop, and over a hill behind him came a behemoth trudging through the untilled fields towards their home.
Emily took a second to recognize it, but this was the behemoth that had been leading the herd Emily and her father had found, and he was a huge beast. He was larger than any other behemoth Emily had seen. His lumbering belly was so large that it dragged, flattening the ground before his massive tail could. Emily could see the ground shake where he stepped, and his horn was so large that he had to shake his head from side to side just to see what was ahead. If that behemoth saw six humans, two unicorns, a house, and a barn, he seemed none too concerned about it.
As Abe approached, another set of thuds joined the behemoth, these ones quick and rapid.
“Father!” he shouted. “It’s coming! It’s coming! What are we going to do?”
He reared the unicorn to a stop when he reached his family and paused at the sight of John. The moment it took to recognize a gunslinger was followed by shock, then awe, and finally relief. The gunslinger took all these into account and nodded at Abe. John tilted his hat down and started to walk towards the lumbering beast.
“Oh,” the gunslinger said, turning back. “Can you take my unicorn out of the barn, just in case?”
“Yes, of course,” Molly replied.
The gunslinger nodded a thank you and continued his walk towards the approaching behemoth.
“Nicholas,” Paul said. “Go and fetch the unicorn.”
“But Father! I might miss the gunslinger.”
“Well then, you better hurry.”
Nicholas sighed but took off at a dead run towards the barn. Emily never took her eyes off of John and the behemoth.
“Molly?” Paul whispered.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should be ready, just in case.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Paul.”
The sternness in her voice said otherwise, and her two children risked a quick glance at their parents.
“Molly, please,” Paul pleaded. “I just think it might be safer if you were ready, just in case.”
“Paul,” Molly’s voice deepened, “stop.”
Emily couldn’t figure out what to watch. In front of her, she was going to witness a gunslinger take down a behemoth for the first time, but behind her, her parents were discussing a secret she’d never known existed. She and Abe—switching between the two—were ignored. A moment later, Nicholas returned to the group leading John’s unicorn.
“Whew!” he said. “I’m not going to miss it!”
John walked slowly out into the fields. The clink of spurs faded as the rumble of behemoth steps grew louder. John made it to end of the field, which was a good eighty paces away, and then pulled out his pistols and waited for the behemoth.
The beast didn’t keep him long. Its steps were just as slow as John’s, but each one ate up the distance like a unicorn at a gallop. The ground itself was clearly beginning to shake now, and the shudders it sent through the dirt were affecting the aged gunslinger, and when there were only a good forty paces between John and the behemoth, he stumbled and had to widen his stance and bend his knees to hold still.
“Shoot, man, shoot,” Paul whispered through clenched teeth.
The gunslinger brought his pistols up, preferring one while holding the other at the ready. As he tried to aim, the behemoth took another large step and slammed it into the dirt. The shudder vibrated everything, and the gunslinger made his first shot.
A loud bang split the constant thuds, and Emily and her brothers jumped. None of them had heard a pistol fired before, and the noise startled them all. It was loud enough to leave a faint ringing in her ears, and Emily watched a puff of black smoke exit the pistol to float into the air. The wind disbursed it quickly, though, and Emily held her breath in anticipation of seeing the huge behemoth drop dead in its tracks with a bullet through its eye.
Yet it kept walking. In fact, it seemed entirely unaffected. The behemoth took another step and opened its mouth to let out a low moan. The sound was deep, like thunder, only pitched with a voice.
“It’s warning him,” Paul said, fearful. “It’s warning him to move.”
The gunslinger cocked the hammer back on his second pistol and took aim. The behemoth’s next step shook the ground again, and John’s arm wavered as he struggled to hold the pistol and himself straight and level. The behemoth was only twenty paces from the gunslinger now. John fired, splitting the air with another bang and releasing black, powdery smoke into the air.
A burst of dust cracked off the behemoth’s horn. The behemoth lifted its head up and bellowed deeply. Still unharmed, it lumbered forward.
“Damn it, man!” Paul yelled. “You old fool! Get out of the way!”
John must have heard Emily’s father, for he made one last shot, and then tried to stumble out of the way. It was too late, though. The behemoth had warned him twice and survived three shots fired from the old gunslinger, but now it was out for blood.
With a burst of speed that Emily did not know behemoths were capable of, it barreled forward and covered the rest of the paces in a few steps. With monstrous strength, the behemoth thrust its massive horn into the gunslinger. The horn was as big as John, and when it struck him, Emily could practically feel the blow. She screamed, and the family huddled close as they watched John’s lifeless body fly into the wind. He tumbled and spun, and then crashed into a heavy heap upon the earth. The behemoth snorted its victory and then lumbered onwards, straight towards their home.
“Damn it,” Paul shook his head, eyes on the dead gunslinger.
“He’s dead,” Nicholas’ voice trembled. “He’s . . . he’s really dead.”
“What do we do?” Emily asked, voice barely above a whisper.
The Stout family drew close. The unicorns were whinnying and flinching now, nervous energy coursing through them as the behemoth continued to close the distance.
“Molly!” Paul yelled.
“Paul, I can’t! The children will see!”
The ground shook as the behemoth took another step. The unicorns started fighting a bit. They yanked lightly at their keepers, trying to move out of the way of the encroaching behemoth. They would never make the gunslinger’s mistake.
“Molly, I’m sorry,” Paul pleaded again. “You can’t keep this hidden forever. Stop worrying about them and save us, please!”
Emily’s mother said nothing. All of her children stared at her with wide eyes. The ground shook again.
“Mother, what’s Father talking about?” Abe asked.
Molly didn’t answer, her attention on the behemoth. It was a mere sixty paces from their home now, and it bellowed a warning cry to the family.
; “Move! Everyone move!” Paul said and pushed them out of the way.
They ran to the side, taking the unicorns with them—the beasts were all too happy to be out of the way. Now only Molly, their barn, and their home were left in the behemoth’s path, none of which moved as the behemoth took another step.
“Molly!” Paul cried out.
The ground shook again.
“Damn it! Alright!” Molly shouted and thrust her hands down in anger.
Emily watched her mother turn and storm off to the house with angry strides. She threw the back door open, nearly throwing it off its hinges, and disappeared inside. Emily and all of her siblings turned to look at their father, but he kept his eyes on the door.
“Father, what’s going on?” Emily asked.
“Your mother is going to save our home,” he replied.
“What doesn’t she want us to see?” Abe asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Paul sighed. “And she thought you all were adventurous before.”
Emily shook her head, unable to make sense of her father’s vague statement. He wouldn’t meet any of their eyes, though, and the siblings turned back to the house to see the backdoor squeak open again. Molly stepped through, looking just as she did before, only now she had a thick string in one hand, a curved bow in the other, and a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder.
All three children let their mouths drop to the ground, and to Emily, the entire world faded to center around her mother. The Stouts had a bow? Her mother could use a bow? How could she hide that? Where did that come from? Emily’s mind reeled with questions, but she was too shocked to speak words through open mouth. With great effort, she looked back to her father, but he still would not meet her gaze. He kept calm, and his grip on his children tightened, holding them well out of the way of the behemoth’s path. The unicorns jerked a bit more in fear, but they were out of the way, and their owners held them steady.
Molly walked back out to the field and stared the behemoth down. It was close to the barn now, walking next to the structure and still heading for the house. Its heavy steps were making the barn shake and sending puffs of dust off the roof. Even the house was trembling now, and the behemoth took another step before bellowing a warning cry.
“Hurry, Molly!” Paul yelled.
Molly knelt down before the behemoth and placed one end of the curved bow into the ground. She notched the string to one end, bent the bow back, and notched it to the other. She stood back up, drew an arrow, and nocked it to the string.
The behemoth shook its head and snorted, preparing to charge.
“Mother!” Emily and her brothers yelled.
Molly brought the bow up and pulled the string back, bringing the arrow’s feathers to her eye. The ground shook again as the behemoth took one more step and bellowed one last war cry. Then it charged—horn aimed low to skewer the human that dared to block its path—and Molly released the string.
Emily, Abraham, and Nicholas watched in total terror and awe as the wooden arrow shot through the air at a blinding speed, soared across the field and scraped along the behemoth’s horn before burying itself deep into its right eye. The behemoth’s charge was brought to a dead stop as it jerked in pain, roaring and lifting itself up on its hind legs. It bellowed until its feet crashed to the ground again, rocking the world so thoroughly that Molly fell to one knee and Emily and the others stumbled.
The behemoth thrashed its head from side to side, taking a step back as if that could dislodge the short stick that was completely embedded in its eye. One of the beast’s legs gave out, and Emily could see its strength crumbling. However, the fight had yet to leave it, and the behemoth crashed its horn through the side of the barn. The barn took that blow, at first, but when the behemoth drew its head out, the horn ripped the roof apart. In unison, both the behemoth and the barn collapsed to the ground, sending a cloud of dust across the fields in all directions.
As the wind swept the cloud away, Emily saw the behemoth lying alongside the ruins of their barn. The beast let out one last breath and then lay still forever. In the first time in what seemed like ages, there was total silence. Only the wind and time kept moving forward.
“Mother!” the children cried.
Emily ran to her mother. Paul took the unicorns’ reins from Abe and Nicholas so they could join the pursuit. The trio crashed into their mother’s arms and wrapped her in a hug. Emily’s vision blurred, and only then did she realize just how scared she’d been.
“I didn’t know you could use a bow!” Abe said.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Nicholas shouted.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Emily asked.
Emily’s mother favored each of them with a glance and then looked up at the barn and the behemoth corpse settled into the dirt. She sighed and then looked to Paul, approaching with the unicorns in tow.
“Abe, Nicholas, Emily. Go bury poor John before a banshee rises,” she said. “Give the guns to your father.”
At any other point in time, the trio might have argued with their mother to let them keep the guns. Instead, they just nodded.
“After that, we’ll go inside,” she continued. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.”
Chapter 5
Paul tied the unicorns to the back porch while Emily and her brothers quickly dug a grave for John beside their house. Their mother went inside, likely not wanting her presence to distract her children. If anything, though, it would have hastened their pace. With three of them digging and pressing questions filling their minds, the siblings dug a grave for John in rapid time. Paul stood over them as they searched the dead gunslinger before placing him in the ground.
“The gunslinger didn’t have any spare rounds,” Paul noted, looking the guns over. “I’m surprised he risked the bullets, and his life, to save us. I wish he hadn’t.”
They found a few other possessions on John and tucked away in the pack on his unicorn. There were the usual items one expected to find on a lone traveler, such as a waterskin, tinder to make fire, a knife, some food rations, sewing supplies, candles, steel mirror, and rope. There were some items unique to a gunslinger, such as parchment and ink for writing contracts. Emily was surprised to find the gunslinger was nearly broke. He had about as much coin left on him as the Stout family had altogether, which Emily thought was rather poor for a gunslinger.
“No wonder he asked Mother for work,” Nicholas whispered to his sister. “He was desperate.”
“Desperate and lonely,” Emily replied, seeing her father sigh as John’s pack was emptied.
What Paul had been looking for and could not find was a letter or writ of some kind explaining who and where John Bagster’s surviving family was. Some travelers on the Great Plains kept such things on them, some indication of who they were, but John had none. That was especially unusual because of his age, but Paul figured it was probably because he either had no surviving family or didn’t care to leave them anything.
Abe, Nicholas, and Emily watched, completely absorbed, as Paul placed the gunslinger’s pistols into his pack. He met their gaze only once and sighed at their hungry faces before pushing them inside the house. Soon after, the whole family was seated at the home’s only table. A few seconds ticked by in silence as Emily and her brothers waited for an explanation—an answer to the obvious questions they held. Emily’s mother looked at their intense faces, and they could see guilt in hers.
“You knew you’d have to tell them one day,” Paul said. “It was only a matter of time.”
Molly sighed again. She looked up at her daughter and two sons.
“Yes, but I didn’t think it would be now. They already want to leave, Paul. How can I stop them?”
“You can’t,” he touched her hand. “You never could, not any more than your own mother could stop us. Yet, even if you could stop them, hiding this won’t keep them here.”
Emily looked to her brothers. Their slack jaws and wide eyes mirrored her captivat
ion. Hardly a one of them blinked.
“I suppose you’re right,” Molly sighed. “Abraham, Nicholas, Emily . . . I’m sorry I never told any of you, but I wasn’t born on the Great Plains. Your father was. We met in Lucifan, but I wasn’t born there either. I’m, I’m from another land far off.”
Emily’s mouth had gone dry, and the silence rang deafening in her ears. She’d never asked her parents where they were born, because she’d never thought they were from anywhere else but here. Judging by the look on her brothers’ faces, they’d thought the same. Why wouldn’t they? The Great Plains had always been their home—their entire life. Now, they knew their mother didn’t share that with them, and they were as shocked as they were jealous.
“Where are you from, Mother?” Nicholas asked.
“A place far south of the Forest of Angor. I was born an amazon.”
“An amazon?” Abe asked. “I’ve heard that term before in Lucifan. What are they?”
Emily’s mother took another deep breath. This was something she’d kept hidden for a long time, and it seemed that telling it now was like pulling teeth.
“The amazons are a people comprised of women, and only women. We,” she paused, “they, are warriors who live in the deep jungles to the far south. We call it Themiscyra, both the city and the lands around it.”
Emily, Nicholas, and Abraham took a moment to comprehend what their mother was saying. They knew there were places further than the forest, but they had rarely contemplated what they were. To be entirely honest, Emily wasn’t quite sure what a jungle was.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Emily asked. “Why would you hide that?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said. “Well, actually, I suppose it is. The truth is that I didn’t want you to know—or anyone else for that matter. I put that life behind me a long time ago when I ran away with your father.”
“Wait!” Nicholas gaped. “Why’d you have to run away? Did they not like Father?”
“Amazons aren’t allowed to marry. It’s not our way. We don’t take husbands, and we give our sons away to surrounding villages in the jungle. I decided I loved your father too much for that, though, and so I left without a trace. I didn’t want them coming to find me and trying to take me back. I didn’t tell any of our neighbors, so word wouldn’t travel, and we even hid it from Paul’s parents for a few years just to be sure.”
