Straight Shots for Crooked Thoughts

by James Livingood

  He walked towards the open door and felt down at his side. His gun was still in its holster, ready for action. Holt looked outside the doctor’s office. Everyone around the doctor’s office was laying down. Holt went to the guard and put two fingers in front of his mouth. He felt a slight amount of breath. He did the same for a frail older man near the entrance. Holt couldn’t feel any breath coming out of him.

  Holt was usually the picture of health, so being this sick had taken a lot out of him. For an older man or someone that was already unhealthy, this would have probably killed them. Most folks didn’t have the stamina that he had. Holt then began to wonder if he had heard the words of the doctor correctly. “I can only heal what I caused. This town’s medical problems will fade after I am far into the sunset with your money.”

  Dr. Leech had killed, just as sure as a bullet. He hadn’t done it in a way that was obvious, but it was done. Holt looked to balance the scales for those that had left this earth. Holt didn’t want to be prey. He didn’t want to live in a weak town. He needed to stand up for the home he was trying to build. That meant living the way you want, without being conned by an evil man.

  Holt looked for a horse to ride, his own had taken sick as well. The horse was whining softly while laying down. Holt found a horse towards the edge of town that wasn’t in too bad of shape. Holt asked where the doctor went from a few townsfolk and got a general direction. Holt would look for track marks and broken branches but hoped he would be able to catch up soon.

  The bouncing on the saddle threatened to make him throw up any remainder in his stomach. He still wasn’t back to normal. He scrunched his eyes and pushed forward, his own stomach being ignored. Holt wanted to catch the man as quickly as possible. Once it rained or the trail got too cold, it would mean the end of justice being served. It would also mean that this man would get away with murdering many townsfolk. Worst of all, the town would be left destitute and would have trouble growing. Wealth wasn’t an inexhaustible source of growth. A farmer only had the coins he got from the recent crop. Trappers only had the money from what they could find and skin. These men needed their money brought back so that they could survive for another year. Even if these men recovered from their sickness, they would still need to eat during the winter. Dead now or dead in a few months resulted in the same thing. His town would not survive if he didn’t find this doctor.

  Holt traced the bramble and hoof prints as best as he could. From what he could tell, the doctor was still nearly a full day away. The rain started to fall, and Holt looked up. The clouds looked angry and ready to soak the ground. The world seemed to be swallowing up the evidence of Dr. Leech’s foul doings, but Holt wouldn’t forget. He pushed on.

  The cold drops felt pleasant to Holt’s skin. He pushed forward on the horse, trying to move quickly in the rain before the ground turned to mud. The crunch of gravel under hooves slowly turned to the splashing noises of wet ground. He needed to make up some distance and get things done with the most speed possible. The rain turned from a soft dropping to a downpour. The tracks began to disappear and soon the horse's traction began to slip. Holt continued to push forward, using the last direction he had seen. Holt kept going until he spotted a cabin. In the cabin was a light. He slowed down his horse and stepped off.

  Holt drew out his gun and cocked the hammer. The rain drowned out any sound of his tracks or the horse. Holt went towards the front door and creaked it open, ready to resolve this thing with steel and his steady trigger finger.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Holt began to creak open the door, but then felt a push against it the other way. It was shoved shut. Holt threw his shoulder into the door and busted it down. He flung up his gun, ready to start his artistry. He saw the doctor at the back of the cabin with his hand outstretched. He at first thought that the doctor was pleading for his life. He instead felt a wave of pain grip his hand’s joints. It was like a snake’s venom was pulsing through his veins.

  Holt threw his gun in the air, ready to catch it with the other. Dr. Leech threw up his other hand and the weapon moved in the air in another direction, away from Holt.

  Holt knew a few things about tusseling and the first thing was not to hesitate. Holt ran towards the doctor at full speed ramming him with his body. The doctor puffed out air and set his hands down on Holt. The doctor’s hands felt like red hot iron brands landing down on leather. The only problem was that Holt’s back was the surface they settled on. Holt screamed and flinched away.

  The doctor held his hands up, ready for another touch. The pain in Holt’s back began to join together and he felt like his muscles were all contracting at once. It was like he had been moving heavy items all day and was feeling a deep ache, mixed with lightning streaks of pain.

  Holt concentrated through the pain and grabbed a chair nearby. He threw the chair at the doctor. Holt focused on moving the leg of the chair towards the doctor’s face, hoping to strike him down. Instead the doctor switched hand movements and the chair changed direction.

  Holt ran for his gun while his back felt better for the moment. He reached the firearm and pulled the trigger. He saw the doctor smiling and wondered what kind of man smiles while going to the grave. The gun misfired and didn’t shoot. Holt clicked the hammer a few times, in the hopes the dud round would activate.

  “In my office, remember when I put my hand on the gun? I moved the bullet’s powder away from the firing pin. I pushed it down a crack in the bullet” Dr. Leech sneered.

  Holt popped open the side and saw powder puff out everywhere. The gun was useless. He spilled the bullets to the ground.

  “You, on the other hand, have been touched by me several times. I can flare up my will and make you feel pain like never before.” Dr. Leech said with spittle flying. “And this time you won’t get back up when I leave.”

  Holt felt his back arch with pain. He started to bend and twist on the ground. The world flashed white and then came back into focus. Holt couldn’t remember why he was there or what was going on. The only thing that existed in the world was pain.

  The doctor wasn’t satisfied with just causing pain from a distance. A life of destruction had grown a thirst for death in the doctor. He walked casually over to Holt and kicked him in the ribs. Holt bellowed out and spit came flying from his mouth.

  Holt used his power to push on the leg. The doctor slid back a few steps and then walked forward again, seemingly unphased by Holt’s attempt to push him away. The doctor continued to kick Holt. He then moved to grab a chair and smash it down on Holt.

  Holt knew that if that chair connected, he would black out. If he blacked out, it would be the end of him. He thought of his town suffering and then being deserted. His neighbors out of work being forced to live in a city. He thought of the loss of freedom and the stealing of funds this bandit had done. A well of anger and adrenaline shot through Holt’s body and the pain subsided enough for him to act.

  Holt kicked out his leg and connected it with the doctor’s leg. Holt used his will to push the other leg of the doctor. The doctor fell in a heap, his head smacking hard against the floor. The moment that happened, Holt felt all his pain disappear. He knew he had an instant to settle this before the pain would start back.

  Holt summoned everything within him. Every piece and scrap of will that he had. He thought of the round bullet, floating up in the air. He lined the bullet up and pushed with everything he had. He focused on the tiny area, willing it to move as fast as possible. He sunk everything he had into that small bullet area as it whizzed towards the doctor.

  The doctor regained his senses and threw up his hands. Holt could feel the wave the doctor sent out, trying to slow down and stop the bullet. However, Holt wasn’t about to relent. Holt pushed through the wave and moved the round through the doctor’s brain.

  The doctor looked surprised as he caught Holt’s gaze. Holt sneered at him. The doctor fell back and blood began to pool behind him.

  Holt breathed out and in for severa
l moments, watching the body twitch. He wanted to make sure that the man stayed dead. Once the twitches stopped, Holt collected his gun. Holt searched around the cabin looking for the money. He heard a squeaky floorboard when walking and the nails were missing out of sides. Holt grabbed the edges of the board and lifted it. He found the town’s money, along with several other bags. Apparently, the doctor had done this several times before.

  Holt hefted out the money and found saddlebags the doctor had used. He threw the saddlebags and money onto his horse. With a deep tired ache still in his bones, he slowly plodded away in the mud back to town. The rain wasn’t letting up, but the cold helped Holt keep awake. Without that cold sensation he might have fallen asleep in the saddle.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Holt woke a few days later, laying in an unfamiliar bed. It was incredibly soft and the sound of children playing could be heard. A woman was near him, ringing a cloth out on a water basin. She saw his eyes open and smiled.

  “Oh thank the heavens. We had feared you were in a death sleep.” She said, putting a wet cloth on top of his head.

  The woman yelled for a child and a moment later the child came inside. She instructed the child to get his father. Holt knew that child. This was his neighbor’s house. He didn’t remember how he got here. The last thing he remembered was slowly making his way back to town.

  “Where…” Holt attempted to say, but had a horse dryness to his voice. The woman tisked and grabbed a cup of water near the bed. She gently gave him a small drink of water. The water felt like blades going down, but he knew that was just dehydration.

  “Ok, now you can speak.” The woman continued.

  “Where is my horse and saddle bags?” Holt asked. He was worried that the funds he had recovered might be missing. He didn’t think this family had it in them to kill for money, but people often surprised him.

  “My husband put them away in the barn. He forbade the children from the barn entirely. He said it wasn’t right to go poking in someone else’s things.” She replied. “He also said to come get him the moment you wake.”

  “Yes, I did.” A man said from the doorway. “Thank you for taking good care of him. I married a mighty fine woman. Can you leave us be?”

  She smiled and turned back to Holt. “I am not as fine as my husband says. While the children were forbade, my curiosity was more powerful. I saw a large sum of money weighing down your horse.” She looked at Holt in the eye and her mouth drew in a thin line. “You a robber?”

  Holt was too tired for lies and he liked his neighbors more than he thought. He gave them the truth, “I kill folks who need the killing. Some of them are bandits and robbers. I take what they’ve taken and try to put it right.”

  The husband sighed and knew that his wife was too invested to leave the room. He then asked, “How are you fixing to make things right with that much cash?”

  Holt shrugged. He hadn’t put that much thought into things. “I suppose I could just give a bit to everyone, starting with yourselves.”

  “No.” the husband said firmly. The wife was shaking her head, as if the two of them had come to the same conclusion at the same time.

  “No?” asked Holt.

  “We worked hard to be self-sufficient, to make this land our own. We don’t want a handout. Plus, no offense, but I don’t want to be known to have the wrong kind of money.” The husband explained.

  Holt sighed. “So, what do you think I should do with the money?” He asked.

  The wife shrugged. She then said, “Sounds like the local doctor got tangled up in some mess. We went to find him to help with your condition but heard some gossip. Sounds like he fled town and was found with a bullet in his brain.”

  The husband and wife stared at Holt, not saying a word. Holt kept his mouth quiet and waited them out. Neither side wanted to know what the other was thinking.

  The husband finally nodded several times and said, “Maybe you could hire another doctor to come into town. There’s a lot of fear of pox and pain lately. I don’t think it’s normal.”

  Holt liked the idea of that. He had the kind of money that could keep a doctor in town indefinitely. Holt could pay for the doctor to heal up people and keep everyone healthy. He knew that if he controlled the money, and gave it out slowly, he could build this town into a proper place to live.

  Holt then remembered the last place he had lived in. That town felt like a proper place, until two men had killed a dozen in a bar shoot out. Being drunk, angry, and holding a firearm was always a bad combination. The men were cousins of the sheriff and as a result the worst they were sentenced to was a night in the jail. The sheriff blamed the liquor’s evil ways for all the death.

  Holt had discovered two things about himself during that shootout. The first was his ability to move things to avoid getting shot. The second was that he had a powerful need to set things right. The next morning, he killed the men in jail and left town. Holt thought about his need to set things right. No one had asked him to kill the men or the doctor. It was merely what had to be done.

  Holt finished staring off into the distance and met the husband’s eyes. “I have a need to set things right.” Holt said. “I think I’ll use the money to do just that. Find a way to be the sheriff.”

  “You have enough,” the husband said smiling, “that you could be the mayor. You could even be the governor with that much money.”

  Holt shook his head. He didn’t want a fancy title or to rule over others. He wanted peace, quiet, and to let others grow how they wanted to grow. He heard the children outside running around, playing. It was a beautiful noise and he thought about what else to spend his money on.

  “You folks okay with parting with your kids for a few hours a day? The only other thing I could think of to build would be a school. This town has everything else.” Holt said scratching his nose.

  The husband and wife looked at each other and then rushed over to Holt. They both embraced him in a giant hug. He would make this place an excellent place to live, whatever the cost.