Colton Cyness and the Gunslingers (Children of the Empire Book 1)

by R. L. Wolf

The room became deadly silent, the others waiting for Colt to explode. The silence lasted for a long moment before Colt spoke.

  "You're right," admitted Colt. "I was acting like a child."

  "See, I told you we could train him," said Garth.

  Toran kept his expression neutral and wondered how long it would take before Colt’s temper would return. The memory of what happened to Tanner was still fresh in Colt’s mind, but that would fade soon.

  "Okay, if everyone is done beating up on me, what's next on your list, Toran?" asked Colt.

  Toran didn't get a chance to continue with his list. The wailing sound of an alarm split the air. The boys had never heard this alarm before and didn't know what it was. Colt realized they were looking to him for a decision. He didn’t know what the siren meant, but the insistent wail made it clear they might be in a combat situation now. Colt considered for a moment what to do. He could just issue orders. It’s how Pa did it on the farm, but Toran said he needed to think only about the fight and let the Merits do the rest.

  “Toran, we need to get to the roll-call field,” ordered Colt.

  Toran reacted instantly. “Grab your rifles, field kits, and heavy coats," shouted Toran. "Garth, you’re on point, Wes, you’ll take rear. Colt, you’re in center between Austin and me, and everyone grab some live ammo. Austin, I need you trying to figure out what’s going on, check the Vid. Alright move it, we leave in one minute."

  The boys rushed to gather their gear, but it was nearly three minutes before they were lined up at the door ready to go. Toran understood his mistake. He needed to have everyone keep their gear at the door, so they wouldn’t waste time going back upstairs to look for everything.

  “Austin, did the Vid say anything?” asked Toran.

  “Nothing, it’s the same as it was,” said Austin.

  “Everyone stay on your toes, we’re in the blind. We’re ready, Chief,” said Toran.

  Colt nodded. “Alright, move out, men.”

  Garth pushed the door open, and the boys filed out into the storm. The wind had picked up, and several of the chairs that usually sat on the porch were gone, and the old broken picnic table was piled with snow. They pushed through the blinding snow until they reached the fork in the path that led to Brock's cabin. Brock and his team were just arriving.

  Toran signaled Gabe, Brock’s First Merit. “We’re stronger together,” Toran shouted over the wind.

  Brock hesitated, but Gabe grabbed his arm and pulled Brock to stand next to Colt. “Toran’s right, this isn’t the time for grudges.”

  The two teams merged and walked two abreast along the river path. The river was beginning to freeze, and ice covered both banks, leaving only a ribbon of water flowing in the center. Other teams with cabins closer to the Marshal's office were already on the roll-call field when the boys arrived. Colt saw Rex's group taking their place and went over to ask if he knew what was going on.

  "That's an air raid siren," said Rex.

  Duke and his team were huddled together for warmth. Colt felt bad for them. They looked miserable in the cold, but there wasn't anything he could do for them, and he headed back to his team.

  Cora and her team arrived next, but instead of lining up, they formed a defensive circle. Colt looked over at Toran and raised an eyebrow. They both shrugged, feeling a little silly that they hadn’t thought of it first. The boys formed their own circular defense perimeter, and knowing good strategy when they saw it, the other teams followed suit. Team after team took a knee in the snow, their weapons pointed outward.

  The door opened to the Marshal's office, and the teacher deputies came out and moved among the waiting students.

  One of the deputies stopped at Colt’s position. "We are in a crises situation. Your position is at the fork in the path that splits to your cabin and Brock’s," said the Deputy. "You and Brock's team will prepare a defensive position facing the river. If any ships land in the field across the river, you are to engage and destroy. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir," said Colt.

  "When you hear three blasts from the roll-call horn you may return to your cabin to warm up. If the air-raid siren sounds again, return to your defensive position. Draw ammunition from the bunker and move out."

  The ammunition bunker was nothing short of complete chaos, with everyone fighting for the best weapons. Garth managed to procure a tripod-mounted Gatling gun, and Wes was fighting Cole for a box of cluster grenades.

  "What do you think is happening?" asked Toran.

  "No idea," said Colt, inspecting an extra revolver he managed to snag.

  "Where's Austin?" asked Toran.

  "I saw him trying to get a pulse laser," said Colt.

  Toran shook his head. "Waste of time, they won't work in snow or rain, or even if there is just fog in the air."

  "Grab the team, let’s get to our position," ordered Colt.

  The boys headed to their position. Colt was standing in the middle of the path at the fork trying to decide what to do next when Brock's team arrived.

  "What do you think we should do?" asked Brock.

  "I don't know," said Colt. "But we are going to freeze out here."

  "Maybe we should dig a bunker," said Gabe.

  "Good idea," agreed Toran. "At least it will block the wind and give us something to fight from."

  "I saw some shovels in the shed behind our cabin," said Austin. "I'll get them."

  Austin returned with the shovels ten minutes later, and the boys took turns trying to dig a hole in the frozen ground. The digging went slow, and they had barely scratched a few inches from the ground when three blasts from the roll-call horn sounded. The ten frozen boys left for their cabins.

  Colt and his team walked in silence back to the cabin, too cold to talk. The fire in the fireplace was almost out when they got to the cabin and Wes shoved some more logs on.

  The boys stripped their wet coats and boots off and hovered around the fire trying to warm up. Garth settled into his chair and started to drift off to sleep.

  The air raid siren went off again.

  Garth jumped up. “What?”

  "What the heck is going on?" asked Wes.

  "Let's go!" yelled Colt. "We need to get to our position."

  The boys pulled their wet clothes back on and grabbed their gear. They rushed out the door and ran to the fork in the path. Brock's team arrived a second later, and everyone stood in a circle looking at each other.

  "Start digging again?" asked Brock.

  "Least it keeps us warm," said Gabe.

  The two groups took turns with the shovels and had got the hole an inch deeper when an hour later three blasts from the horn sounded. The boys headed back to their cabins, wetter and colder than the first time.

  "I'm just laying right here in front of the fireplace," said Colt.

  "I'm so tired," said Garth. "I need some sleep."

  "No," said Austin. "Hurry, get your spare boots and dry socks, and put your wet boots in front of the fireplace. Do it now!"

  The boys knew Austin always figured things out first and hurried to do what he said. They had just finished changing socks and boots when the siren went off again.

  "I knew it," said Austin. "This is a training exercise."

  The boys rushed to the fork in the path again. Brock's team took longer to arrive this time. They were still wearing wet clothes and looked miserable. Austin explained that he thought it was just a training exercise. Everyone grumbled about being cold.

  An hour later three blasts from the horn sounded and this time, all the boys ran as fast as they could through the snow for their cabins.

  The boys shed their wet clothes in front of the fireplace and ran upstairs to find dry clothes. The Siren sounded ten minutes later, but the boys were ready this time. Every chair in the cabin was lined up around the fireplace with wet clothing hanging to dry.

  They rushed to their position and picked up the shovels to continue digging. The cycle between sirens continued for th
e next three days. Sometimes there were only ten minutes between the cycles, and sometimes several hours. They were exhausted.

  The hole was now almost four feet deep, and Luke from Brock's team had fallen asleep at the bottom in the melted slush that had formed as the boys trampled the falling snow. Colt grabbed the boy and lifted him up.

  "Stay awake," ordered Colt.

  "Hey," said Brock. "Don't tell my guys what to do."

  "If you fall asleep out here, you'll die," said Colt.

  "You're not in charge of my guys," Brock persisted.

  "I know you're still mad about what I did during the shootout," said Colt. "Just get over it."

  "Maybe I don't want to," said Brock, his hand going down to his holster.

  "You have live rounds in your gun," said Colt, his eyes growing dark.

  Toran saw the change in Colt's eyes and rushed over. "No, stop it now!" shouted Toran. "Colt, stop."

  Gabe came over and put himself in front of Brock.

  "Stop it, Brock," said Gabe. "He’ll kill you."

  The sun was just coming up, and the sun streamed through the trees. The two boys stared at each other, murder in their eyes.

  "I'm not afraid of you anymore," said Brock.

  "You should be," said Colt, his eyes dead and cold.

  Three blasts from the horn sounded.

  "Come on guys," said Toran. "We're all tired, let's just go back to our cabins."

  The horn sounded again, a single blast, and then ten seconds later, another single blast.

  "Roll-call?" asked Wes.

  "Is it over?" asked Gabe.

  Colt lifted his hand from his gun and turned away from Brock.

  "Come on guys," said Colt. "Let’s go."

  "Are you trying to tell my guys what to do?” asked Brock.

  Colt walked past Brock. "I don't care if you stand out here and freeze solid," said Colt, and kept walking.

  The boys pushed through the snow towards the field in front of the Marshal's office. The storm had dumped nearly two feet of snow in the forest. The other teams were arriving, exhausted and spent. It had been a hard three days.

  The Marshal came out on the porch and faced the teams. "Congratulations," said the Marshal. "You have completed the field portion of your mid-terms. After breakfast, you will report to your classrooms for the written portion of the mid-term exams, and this afternoon you will take the marksmanship portion."

  The teams were too tired to even grumble.

  "Everyone report to the dining cabin, no exceptions," the Marshal continued. "That's an order."

  Colt turned around and faced his team. Austin was leaning against Garth, almost asleep. "Come on, let’s go," said Colt.

  The boys went to the dining cabin. There was a bottleneck of students at the door. Colt's team made it through the door and gasped at what they found. The dining cabin was decorated with wreaths and brightly colored ribbons, and on each table was a feast of food.

  Garth rushed to their table and grabbed a turkey leg. Wes ran after him and grabbed the other leg.

  "No, don't, it's a trick. This is part of the test," shouted Austin jumping up on the table to get everyone’s attention.

  "What has the Dragon whispered to you this time?" asked Duke, his tail twitching in agitation. The three days of bitter cold had taken its toll on the patient Daemi. Duke was visibly straining to maintain control.

  "We can barely stay awake now, if we eat, we’ll fall asleep. It’s a test to see if we have self-control," said Austin. "Garth was licking the turkey and Duke laid a hand on his shoulder.

  "Stop, brother," said Duke, sighing heavily. "He's right."

  Garth lost his temper and pushed all the food on the floor. Many of the students ignored the warning and were stuffing food into their mouths. Duke slammed his tail on the floor, cracking several of the wooden planks.

  “PUT THE FOOD DOWN!” roared Duke.

  Duke’s eyes blazed with anger and frustration. The heavy concentration of potassium alum in his Daemi blood causing light to reflect off the back of his corneas. The reflected illusion made Duke’s eyes appear to have flames burning inside his eyes. Most of the students, being Kesune descent and having a similar biological reaction to light themselves, had seen this illusion to a smaller extent. But they had never seen it before in a full-blooded reptilian Daemi.

  The effect was terrifying, and food dropped from hands to the ground, and was quickly followed by the students pushing the food off their tables.

  "Do you know what today is?" Duke called out over the silence. Everyone already knew what today was, but nobody had expected to be able to celebrate it. "Today is Festival Day,” continued Duke. “The Dragon has bestowed upon us the gift of understanding. We stand in the cold, wet and hungry so that our families at home may live in peace.” Duke gestured at all the decorations. "Merits, take your seats, Gunslingers, it is time."

  The Merits sat and watched with curiosity as Duke and the other Gunslingers headed to the counter where the food was usually served—Deputy Hargrath was laying boxes out on the counter. Colt found the box he was looking for and carried it back to his table.

  "Presents!" shouted Wes. "We're getting presents!"

  Colt opened the large box, lifted four smaller boxes out, and handed one to each of his Merits. "Happy Festival Day," said Colt smiling.

  The other teams were already opening their boxes. Ella opened her box and pulled out a new wooden-handled long rifle. Gideon unwrapped a hand-carved hunting knife, and Zeke was admiring a new set of boots.

  Colt's team ripped their boxes open, but when they saw what they had been given, they were stunned. The boys reverently lifted matching gun belts, each holstered with a black-barreled revolver. They looked at Colt, confused.

  "It's a Gunslinger's choice if his deputies wear a revolver,” said Colt. "I want you all to have one."

  "Colt, these aren't school guns," said Toran, "these are new, you bought these, and they are expensive."

  "They are yours to keep," said Colt.

  Wes was already buckling his revolver around his waist. "Thanks, Colt," said Wes. "This is the best Festival Day present I ever got."

  “Colt, I already have a revolver,” said Toran.

  “And now you have two, just like me,” replied Colt.

  “When I told you my idea for learning to dual-draw, you had already thought of it,” accused Toran.

  “Pa sent them to me a couple of weeks ago,” said Colt. “Mine is hidden at the bottom of my clothes chest. I just wanted us to learn together.”

  “Hey Colt, can I have that school revolver?” asked Wes.

  “Sure, I don’t like how clunky it feels,” said Colt, unbuckling the extra revolver he had gotten from the armory and tossing it to Wes.

  “Thanks,” said Wes.

  "Thanks, Colt," added Austin.

  "Yeah, thanks," mumbled Garth.

  "Garth, spit it out," said Toran.

  Garth defiantly swallowed the bite of turkey in his mouth and threw the rest of the turkey leg back on the floor.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lost and Found

  "We're too old," said David.

  The boys, nearly men, sat in front of the fireplace staring at the flames. The snowstorm raged outside. They waited for the Vid-screen to give them instructions, but the days slipped by without any word. They heard the air-raid siren blaring off and on for the last three days and knew the class was doing their mid-terms.

  "I know," said Zach. "They won't give us a new Gunslinger."

  "We're already dead," said Seth, standing and looking around the cabin. The cabin had been their home for three years, and it was filled with memories. They should have long since left for the next phase of training, but Tanner had refused to cooperate with anything the Merits said.

  "The Marshal is giving us a chance to make peace with ourselves before we finish the Long Walk," said Will. "I'm tired of being afraid. I want to go end it."

  The young men stoo
d and faced each other.

  "Brothers, I’m sorry, I should have done more," said David.

  "No, brother, you were the best First there ever was," replied Seth.

  Will stood and joined his brothers. "We were all the best, and that's why they gave us to Tanner. He was weak and needed the best, but you can't make a Gunslinger, you have to be born a Gunslinger."

  "Our scores were always the highest, weren't they?” asked Seth, tossing the textbook he loved so much into the fire. He wouldn’t need it anymore.

  "It's time," said David, laying a hand on Seth’s shoulder to comfort him.

  "Lead us one last time, brother," said Zach.

  David led the team to the door and out into the snowstorm. The young men pushed against the snow and made their way to the Marshal's office. The team paused at the stairs for a moment, and then marched up to the door. David knocked on the door.

  "Enter," called the Marshal.

  David pushed the door open, and the team entered the Marshal's office. A large desk sat at the far end of the cabin with chairs around it. A long table in the center of the room held stacks of reports, folders, and books. The team walked around the long table and stopped in front of the Marshal's desk. The Marshal was watching the young men intently.

  "Sir, we are ready," said David.

  "We have a request," said Zach.

  The Marshal raised his brow and waited.

  "No blindfolds, not on our knees, and not in the back," said David.

  "We take the bullet like men," said Seth.

  "We were the best Merits there ever was," added Will. "We deserve to die with dignity."

  "Sir, we suffered every humiliation at Tanner's hands without complaint," said David. "We never once abandoned him and..." David's voice cracked, and he fell silent.

  The Marshal looked at each of the four young men. At seventeen, they had nearly reached their full height. They were strong and intelligent, and their scores on every test and challenge had never been anything less than exceptional. The Marshal opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out four badges. He tossed the badges on the desk. The young men stared at the badges, uncomprehending. Each badge was imprinted with the word Deputy.

  "If you four are quite done feeling sorry for yourselves, you have work to do," said the Marshal.