Joseph Joseph was always aware he was different, his strength, his size had always set him apart from his peers. When he reached his year of manhood, he could carry a fully developed Ewe up the mountain-side that was the backdrop to his Bavarian home. In that same year, he playfully wrestled his father, cracking his father's ribs in the process. Joseph Joseph swore he would never hurt anyone again; he would watch his anger and realise that at any given moment, something he would regret could happen. He was a super human in a papier-mâché world. Right now, all those years of subdued turbulence are released. Joseph Joseph is a volcano of seething muscle, fuelled by the magma of adrenaline.
His thick, steel-like fingers, clamp onto a Comanchero’s throat as soft sinew submits under his grasp. There’s an audible snap of breakage. The Comanchero slumps back.
His companion reaches for his pistol, spins to shoot Joseph Joseph, to meet the back of his swinging arm. It's like being hit with tempered wood. The Comanchero fires off a round, as he hits the dirt. Joseph Joseph brings his boot down hard; it's more of a squelch than a snap.
The Comanchero who was shot by Mazy earlier leans against the outhouse; the commotion brings him around, he sees Joseph Joseph marching toward him, like death itself. Joseph Joseph snatches an axe from a tree stump and - THUD - buries it deep in the Comanchero's flesh. He then marches over to Jensen.
Louis holds Mazy while Running Cloud and Little Sparrow are caught up in the strongman's rampage, as he drives the axe into the skull of his last victim. Running cloud clambers for the remaining pistols.
Little Sparrow turns to Lyn, to comment on her lover saving them… But the words never come… Lyn lays blood puddling across her dress, Lyn's blood. She smiles at Little Sparrow, her teeth stained in her fluids. Little Sparrow cradles Lyn’s head in her lap. She gently strokes it, to what sounds like a lullaby.
43
AS DUNSTON and his posse close into the Farmhouse, the peels of gunshots regaled a story of mayhem. Dunston was accustomed to the chaos, in some manner he welcomed it.
Marujo felt the pang of possible regret. Could it be these Mexican savages claimed the prize he holds dear?
Colonel Beau Dunston turns to Robert Devon’s Captain.
“You, take Benito and two men, head straight for the Butcher, we’ll circle round the back.”
The Captain hesitates.
Dunston snaps.
“Go!”
The Captain looks to his boss Robert. Robert nods – do it.
Robert turns to Tyler and Bedford.
“You two stay with me.”
The Posse ride on hard, they split into two factions as dust dervishes kick up in their wake.
44
JENSEN IS ON EDGE; he was blind to the cascade of mayhem that just took place, he wasn't sure of who survived, maybe his new found friends had fallen victim to the curse that seems to follow him… death. Jensen knew her all too intimately; death had become his closest acquaintance. She had claimed those who stood by him and against him… Those he loved, and those he loathed. Soon and for sure, she will come for him.
Jensen hears footsteps closing in. He’s ready for what comes next… At least he thinks he is. When Joseph Joseph emerges doused in blood and sweat, breath punching through his nostrils like a raging bull, Jensen is taken aback. He then understands everything.
Jensen responds.
“Ya good?”
“I-I’m… not sure.”
Mazy screams, Joseph Joseph, glances back, he sees the person he loves, laying across Little Sparrow, there's blood across her dress. Jensen's concerned.
“What’s going on?”
Joseph Joseph glances to Jensen then back to Lyn he’s drawn back to her.
Jensen halts his advance.
“Joseph! Look!”.
He looks to Jensen, who nods his head to direct his friend’s eyes… To the four riders eating up ground between them and the horizon. The inner turmoil and pain dissipates its energy, a calmness overcomes him, as Joseph Joseph knows what he must do, he turns to his companions, he calls to them, selfless and pure.
“Run.”
He then strides to Jensen.
Benito sees the hulking man-mountain move to the Butcher; he knows instantly what's happening. His men had gone and got themselves killed. He turns to the Captain.
“He’s trying to free the Butcher.” The Captain, Benito and the two Pinkertons draw their pistols. They’re way out of range for a true shot, yet they’re closing fast.
Little Sparrow harries her companions into the cornfield. Louis guides Mazy as Little Sparrow encourages her aging father. Running Cloud stops, to face his daughter.
“Father, please.”
Cloud cups his hand around her neck and draws her forehead to his.
“As much as I am shamed by him, I’m made proud by you.”
“I tried to be the best daughter and son I could be. You have been, and always will be, my father.”
Running Cloud unsheathes a large knife. Little Sparrow nods in understanding.
As Louis drags Mazy into the cornfield, she sees Sparrow leaving Running Cloud; she glances across to Jensen… Joseph Joseph stands above him and beyond them four riders charging in, blue plumes of smoke bellowing from their pistols. Louis snatches Mazy into cover.
Joseph Joseph grabs hold of the chain that traps Jensen’s right hand.
Repeated pistol reports strike the air.
Jensen looks up to the strong man, at his two slab hands snatching hold of the chain, he places a foot on the axle of the wagon… His sinews snap to attention, he grunts in guttural exertion.
WHACK - turf nearby flicks up, as bullets begin to find their range.
Joseph Joseph bares his clenched teeth; his neck is a furrowed terrain of muscle.
Shoulders and arms ripple with continual contractions.
Incredibly the chain begins to sing with tension, as the air around them comes alive, as bullets rent its fabric.
WHACK - Turf powders.
CRACK - Splinters spray, the wagon’s hit.
WHIZZZ…
CRACK…
THUD - A pink cloud plumes as Joseph Joseph jolts forward. A round buries into his back.
“Joseph!” Jensen feels powerless, in anger he snatches at the chain.
The man-mountain summons up an inner steel, an undiluted courage, he sets upon the chain again.
CRACK - a bullet splinters wood across Jensen’s face.
Jensen helps Joseph Joseph with the chain, both grunt and tremble with exertion, as the wagon creaks under pressure.
CLIP - a bullet nicks his muscled shoulder; crimson beads spill across the wagon. Joseph Joseph keeps to task, and incredibly the chain begins to creak, deform, stretch.
Bullets whizz past scarring the air.
THUD - A bullet tears into Joseph Joseph's leg. He refuses to acknowledge it.
SNAP - the chain explodes
“Get out of here," Jensen screams. “Just give me a gun. Go!”
Joseph Joseph limps across to the other chain.
He clasps hold of it and presses his blood-drenched boot against the axle.
“Mister Jensen, I have nothing left… But to unleash hell upon them… you.”
On the opposite side of the farm, cautiously approaching on foot: Colonel Dunston, Robert Devon, Tyler Devon, Bedford, Marujo with five other men; two roguish Bounty Hunters and three recently acquired Deputies. Dunston had waved them off their horses, as gunfire started. If there was a gun fight, Dunston knew it was best to flank an unsuspecting opponent.
They settle into position on a mound overlooking the farm. The four riders approach the overturned wagon, firing off their pistols. They also see a tall, broad man standing by the wagon.
Robert Devon squints… “Is that the Butcher?”
Devon looks to Marujo, Marujo shakes his head – no…
“He’s nearby," Dunston informs the others.
Marujo vision sweeps the farm; he notices a fig
ure by the Farmhouse, a reflection that ghosts his dreams. Running Cloud matches eyes with Marujo and slips behind the Farmhouse. Marujo moves from laying to squatting; he glances to the Colonel.
“What?”
Marujo breaks away from the group; he heads straight to the farmhouse.
Dunston reaches out.
“Marujo.”
Tyler can’t help but throw a snide comment. “Everyone seems to be deserting you.”
Dunston retorts “You better hope I don’t abandon your father, I'm the only thing standing between him and a snappy demise." … Dunston notices the four riders closing in on the blindside of the upturned wagon. “It looks like we’ve found the Butcher.”
The nine men look to the riders dismounting.
The Captain slides a shotgun, from his saddle.
Jensen and his strong man companion are testing their mettle against the iron chain. Joseph Joseph’s bloodied hands slip over the iron links, bullets bite into his flesh, it’s only blind fury and indomitable will that keeps him standing, that makes him endure.
RIP... A bullet ruptures Joseph Joseph’s ear.
SMACK - A hot slug punches into his knee, he collapses, struggles to stand.
KRACK - His back bursts blood.
Joseph Joseph’s mass stumbles into the wagon. He’s oozing blood, for the first time he can remember his body feels weak.
He doesn't quit; he's on his knees, his hands grab thin air as he reaches for the chain.
Jensen is a brew of emotions, anger, frustration, pain, at the sight of his friend fighting against the futile. Joseph Joseph mouth seeps fluid, breath laden with the weight of dying; face palled, eyes wet with red. He’s still fumbling, floundering with the chain.
BOOM – A crimson eruption, bloodied vapour fills the air.
With a dead stare, he crumbles to his knees, and his hulking dead mass collapses on Jensen. The Captain with a shotgun is stood feet away. By him, Benito, the two Pinkertons, they glance at each other. The Captain nods for Benito to check out the bodies.
Marujo’s squat frame prowls around the side of the Farmhouse…
…no one’s there.
He draws a blade, expecting the silence to submit to violence. Marujo slants an eye behind him; he knows the old man is here…
…somewhere.
A shadow swallows Marujo, an attack from above. His intuition kicks in, he’s rarely the prey, yet knows how to respond.
Marujo, whirls, and spins slashing out with his knife, he feels a burning in his arm the searing of severed nerve endings. Marujo stumbles back, his hand instinctively clamps his wound… He looks up. Fresh blood drips off Running Cloud’s knife, his breath is pacing, not from exertion, but from the burden of destiny pressing on his chest. There's a sting on his cheek; he gently touches it, a lick of blood. Marujo holds up his knife; it too is stained with a fresh fluid hue.
Father and son, nod to each other, this is the first time they’ve set eyes on one another since Marujo helped Dunston exterminate Running Cloud’s tribe fifteen years ago. They would frequent each other’s dreams, yet somehow, this reality was more unreal. They now understand, from the moment of Marujo’s baptised birth, this day has been in calling.
Dunston has Robert, Tyler, Bedford, the Bounty Hunters, and Deputies in tow. He marches down to the farmhouse, confidently making his way to the overturned wagon. Dunston sees, The Captain, Benito and the two Pinkertons step behind the blind side of the upturned wagon.
“Give me a hand…” The Captain asks Benito, Joseph Joseph’s limp frame is too heavy for him to move, they both peel the mound of lifeless blood-drenched muscle off of Jensen, the body rolls to the ground with a – thump.
The Captain glances to Benito, then back to the lifeless, motionless body of Jensen, with one hand free and one hand chained.
“Benito, your bounty was on the qualification he was alive, Mister Dunston wanted him alive.” The Captain reloads his shotgun and gives it to a Pinkerton.
Living? Benito's fears have been realised, not the fact that he's lost his companions, it was probably their fault anyway. His concern was not getting cash, five thousand dollars could get him a piece of land, or keep him in booze and whores for years to come. Benito leans into Jensen and squeezes his cheeks… Jensen feels warm, but he’s motionless, peaceful as the dead.
It’s a moment of eternity as Benito is snared in cognitive dissonance, Jensen looks dead, but his chest slowly, steadily balloons. It was in this second Benito knew, Jensen was alive. It was the same moment that Jensen's eyes flick open. An intimate moment of realisation they both share. Benito's eyes widen in a brew of horror and awe, while Jensen's pierces with a cold fury. The Captain, the Pinkertons are oblivious to the interaction.
“oh no.” Is all The Captain hears Benito say, and before they can breathe before they can acclimatise to the direction their lives are about to take, before the lightning-bolt of fear can strike and elicit a survival response. Before all this, Jensen’s free hand snatches Benito’s Colt from his belt.
BLAM – a slug ploughs into Benito, and like a door to the world he falls away. Revealing to the Captain and the Pinkertons, Jensen with smoking iron in hand.
By the time they’ve registered this turn of events, another two shots –BLAM- BLAM- a resounding death knell.
The Pinkertons spin and whirl to the soil, their bodies flirt with the possibility they may live, it soon passes, as they lifelessly ditch into the dirt.
The Captain slides his side iron across leather; he draws on Jensen. Their two barrels crack like thunder, only one of their shots is true.
Jensen flinches as the searing speeding slug smacks into the wagon, spitting shards of wood across his face.
The Captain stumbles back… He clamps onto his chest.
“You...” his words gargle, his breath whispers as his punctured lung fills with fluid. Jensen is versed in gunning down a stranger, and generally not knowing the reason why. At least now he’s acquainted with the whys, if not the whos.
“I said I wanted the bastard alive.” Robert Devon has misunderstood the situation, all he saw was four armed men step behind the wagon and commit what sounded like bloody execution. Dunston touches Robert’s shoulder, Dunston recognises it’s not what it seems.
"Look," The Colonel points.
From behind the wagon, stepping backward like a puppet with tangled strings, comes The Captain. His pistol faintly gripped, he aimlessly fires into the turf … BANG.
Tyler is the first to a summary of the situation. “Oh god, he’s free.”
Colonel Dunston acts with military acumen, that the years of war bring.
“Take cover.” They scatter, from the open.
Breath shortens, as airways are crushed to collapse, the inner skull drives pressure against its confines. Marujo knew this was from lack of blood and oxygen, Running Cloud, his father, had managed to slip a strike, then slide his arm under Marujo’s chin.
Marujo is in the throes of strangulation. His peripheral sight dims into submission; his vision becomes tunnelled, he also knew that next the black would envelop all and he would never return.
Marujo lowers his centre of gravity; he throws his arm across his body. Father and son tumble to the dirt. Marujo blindly lashes out, Cloud’s soft leather boot, crashes into his son’s chest, sending him back. Marujo by skill or instinct hacks out, his iron edge runs along flesh, leaving cleaved crimson in its wake.
Marujo and Cloud stumble to standing, one emerging from faint senses, the other feeling the mounting years in every breath. Son smiles to father, if the old man were younger maybe he would have a chance. Father blankly stares at his child, his only son. His heart fills with sorrow, regret, love. Running Cloud knows if he were younger, it would make little difference to the day. His heart was never black enough to act without remorse. If he could sit and recollect the first years of his son's life, he would see, Marujo and remorse have never crossed paths.
Marujo steps closer.
CHING - The chain tightens, Benito is out of reach.
Jensen reaches his boot out, to try and drag Benito closer. It’s a fruitless endeavour. As if his god-awful situation wasn't bad enough, The Colonel calls out, to what seems like a taunt.
“Hills, who would have thought it come to this?" Jensen is yanking at the chain if only he could get a few more inches. “I’m going to get you Hills… …Your killing days are over. Tyler Devon is under my charge, my protection… I always get what I want.”
Jensen sits back; he knows the futility of the situation… Think. Think… He's too centred on the key; it may as well be knee deep in the Mississippi mud.
“And I want to see the Johnson City Butcher on the end of a rope.” Dunston continues.
Jensen mumbles to himself, “Oh God, I wish he'd shut up." He calls out, “Ain’t you heard Dunston, the Butcher be dead.”
Jensen reaches for a pistol left on the ground. He's frantically looking around for an answer… He still manages to goad the Colonel.
“Is Tyler and his friend here?” Jensen stops, he arches his neck listening to the silence, he smiles to himself. “Good to know. I’m coming to get you Tyler.”
Tyler quite simply panics.
“Shit he knows I’m here, I should never have come.”
Bedford watches Tyler, quietly confused, had Tyler just become a coward or was he always one?
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you, son.” Robert Devon reassures Tyler.
BLAM – BLAM - The men behind cover duck, as random shots, ring out.
Jensen waves his pistol over the top of the wagon, he stretches and just about manages to glimpse over the wooden barrier. BLAM – CLICK… He's out of bullets.
Redemption's Blood Page 19