Ever Onward

by Wayne Mee

  Yet in his heart he knew the answer --- all because of some hard-headed teacher called Josh Williams! Since meeting Williams and his little family everything had hit the fucking fan! The ‘great hunt’ had backfired. Now Scar was dead, along with Pussbag, Bobby-Joe and everyone else he could count on. A bunch of fucking Indians had ambushed his men, his pilot was lying back at the burnt-out lodge in a pool of his own blood and he was trapped out here with a backwoods madman on his tail!

  Then, as it had all his wayward life, inspiration stuck. Jocco grinned and pulled Jessie to his feet. “What if I don’t kill you, kid? What if I only shoot off your kneecap instead? That way your practical loving father will have to hang around to help his crippled son! How about both kneecaps? That way Mr. Practical can’t send you hobbling back leaning on the red head while he comes after me.” By now Jocco was feeling very smug.

  Too smug to be prepared for what happened next.

  Jessie, his eyes wild, flung his head back, connecting hard with Jocco’s nose. Even as the bone crunched, Jessie swung his left elbow around, slamming it into Jocco’s ear. Cobb had repeatedly drilled into each of them the vulnerable spots on the human body.

  “Eyes, ears, nose and throat, lads and lassies,” Cobb would say over and over. “Only a macho smuck goes for the jaw. Break your hand that way.”

  “What about the balls?”, Flame had once asked, trying her best to keep a poker-face. The other women in the group had started to giggle. Cobb, however, had handled it like a pro. Without missing a step he had pointed out that the groin was indeed a very vulnerable spot, and that women especially should go for it every chance they got.

  Jessie had learned his lessons well. Not only had he broken Jocco’s nose, but he’d burst his eardrum as well. Turning, Jessie drove his foot at the clincher. Instinct saved Jocco a crushed scrotum. Shoving his hand protectively in front of his groin, Jocco managed to deflect the crippling blow. He also managed to drop his gun. Jessie, still dizzy from the head wound, lost his balance and fell. The Colt lay near the edge of the cliff. Jessie scrambled for it while Jocco, his nose streaming blood, pounced on him from behind. The air exploded from Jessie’s lungs. Jocco’s weight shifted, his hand clawing for the lost automatic. Locked in a lethal embrace, both of them rolled dangerously close to the edge. Jocco, outweighing the lad by a good fifty pounds, was slowly getting the upper hand. Suddenly a shot rang out, the loud sound rebounding off the surrounding mountains.

  “Get off him, NOW!” Josh Williams stood behind them, his Browning trained on the tangled forms.

  “Dad!”, Jessie, momentarily loosening his grip on Jocco’s arm, rose to his knees. It was all the time the would-be king needed. From his boot he pulled a small but wicked blade. Still using the boy as a shield, he pressed it to Jessie’s throat.

  “Now kid, we’ll see just how practical your old man really is! Drop the gun, Daddy, or I’ll cut your son’s throat!”

  For several heartbeats they held each others gaze. Josh’s hand tightened on the Browning. Jocco saw it and sneered. “Go on, Daddy, try it! Even if you do hit me and not him, I’ll still have time to off the little bastard!”

  Josh’s hand wavered, then he slowly began to lower his gun.

  “NOOOO!”, Jessie screamed as he twisted suddenly in towards Jocco. The small blade grazed the base of his neck and on across his right shoulder. At the same time Jessie clamped his teeth onto Jocco’s left ear and held. Screaming, maddened with pain, Jocco pushed himself back, savagely thrusting Jessie away from him. Spitting blood and bits of carteledge, Jessie rolled towards his father while Jocco teetered on the edge. The Browning in Josh’s hand barked twice, followed by a blast from a shotgun. Jocco spun around, hit from both the front and the back. A surprised look came over his face. The small knife dropped and he followed it. Both hit the base of the cliff seconds later.

  Josh rushed to his son and together they peered down the ledge. There, some twenty odd feet below, lay Jocco’s crumpled body. Flame stood off to one side, the Defender’s perforated barrel still smoking.

  “You two alright up there?”, she called.

  Josh hugged his son. “We are now, Lover. Let’s go home.”

  Jessie looked at his father. “You mean back to Hawthorn?!” Despite his wounds, his voice was ecstatic.

  Josh hugged him again. “Where else?”

  The End

  ******

  A note from the author

  Hi there!

  Thank you so much for reading my novel.

  I hope you enjoyed it!

  Winton Churchill once said that :

  'A good book is like a good friend,

  someone who is always there when you need them.'

  I hope, in some small way, I have been there for you.

  Wayne Mee,

  Montreal, Canada

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