by Ian Dyer
‘I know what you are, Watchman.’ Patience interrupted, ‘I knew what you were going to become even before you did.’ She stroked the ball hidden her lap as she felt it pulse in her mind. Petra was waking up and sooner rather than later she would need feeding.
Stephen, still stood in her doorway like a whore waiting to be plucked by the next payer, slid his small back pack from his side and dropped it onto the floor. Small dust motes floated up; tiny clouds for the scurrying rats and though he didn’t want to he turned to close the door.
‘Leave it open, me boy. Too dark for your pert eyes if you were to close that old thing. Best it is left open.’
He turned his attention to whatever she had hidden beneath her shawl. He was reminded of the Sorcerer and how he had secrets hidden beneath his own black cloak.
‘Better for whom?’ Stephen asked.
‘Ha!’ Patience exclaimed. ‘You know who. I would offer ya a chair to rest yer tired backside upon but as you can see this old house aint what it used to be. So we shall dispense with all the bullshit, Watchman, or whatever it is you are now and get down to business shall we?’ She leant back in her chair soaking up the atmosphere and confusion she could see building in this traveller. He didn’t have a clue what was going to happen to him. Much like she hadn’t all those years ago, before the dark arts and before the lust for more took her over.
‘Business?’ The Watchman asked.
‘Aye, that’s right. That old cunny Sorcerer sent you here to retrieve something from me. He thought, much like you are thinking now, that you will takes it from old Patience, the mad old cunt, without leaving her with nothing but a bullet hole in her head. But you are wrong about that.’ Patience smiled and blew a small breath of air toward the Watchman.
The stinking breath reached him and what was once a small breath turned into what felt like an iron fist; smashing him hard in the chest. He slumped to the floor, his arse hitting the boards hard causing him to yell out in shock. The old boards creaked and groaned but they didn’t give way.
Breathing deep, gathering himself together, the Watchman slowly stood; patting the dust from his trousers. In the darkness Patience’s eyes were a blaze with joy. ‘But as you can see, Stephen, I aint some prissy little slut you can wine and dine and poke with her mighty pink stick. You is gonna have to pay up, or fuck off.’
There was a momentary silence between the two; even the crickets had fallen silent. It was a silence Stephen knew well; the great breath before the plunge into chaos and ruin. Patience revelled in it, but was somewhat disappointed in the man stood before her; not once had he gone for his gun.
‘You’re wondering why I haven’t gone for my gun, aren’t ya?’ Stephen asked stepping further into the building his shadow overwhelming the old witch.
Patience was reminded of all the others that have been cocky around her. Fools to the last and they never, ever learned. But this one would be different. There was something about him; an aura surrounded him unlike any others she had seen before. Well, maybe one, but he had soon found his end.
‘What do you want?’
‘I am here to collect a weapon and then be on my way.’
‘I know.’
‘Then why ask?’ Stephen spat and Patience could see his regret as he braced himself for another pounding.
But she wasn’t going to that. ‘It’s out the back in the bedroom. Top of the wardrobe, under an old sheet.’
Stephen walked further into the gloom and headed through a small doorway at the back of the large room the two of them had been occupying. The bedroom was very dark, lit only by small slits in the wooden boards that covered the windows. The smell of sweat and sex was worse in here and Stephen felt his stomach turn as he thought what had gone on in here to produce such a stink. He pictured Tommy and the witch and then quickly pushed those images to one side. The bed wasn’t made, clothes were strewn all over and what was visible of the floor was as black as the night’s sky.
In her chair, knowing what the Watchman was thinking, the old witch chuckled. ‘Age may take many thinks from ya, boy, but there are some itches that always need scratching, if ya get me?’
Sadly Stephen did get her, but he didn’t respond. Something else had caught his attention.
2
He reached over and shifted to one side the old dusty sheet that covered the weapon. Dust flew in his eyes and he wiped at them quickly fighting back the cough.
The room was growing hot, the darkness somehow intensifying even though the sun was still high. He was all of a sudden extremely self-aware and overwhelmed with a feeling that he was surrounded by another being. Not a man, not a woman but something ethereal, long dead but not long gone. It was something that should have died millennia ago but has clung on no matter what the cost. His hands became clammy and his stubble itchy.
Stephen swallowed hard as his eyes re-focused on the revolver that revealed it’s self from the gloom. As he reached out to grab it, there was a feeling as if the gun too was reaching out for him. When his hand met the gun and the gun met his hand an ancient killer met a new killer and the world would never be the same again.
3
‘What the fuck is this?’ Stephen mumbled as he took hold of the gun and felt the weight and the feel of the old piece.
‘That is Jonah. He be one ancient cunt, mark my words He comes from a time where great tubular hulks flew in the sky and men worked in glass towers that reached high into the heavens.’ Patience voice seemed far off, unimportant.
‘Is it alive?’
‘Aye.’
Stephen left the bedroom and walked back into the main room. The light was better in here and he could see the gun now. It was of typical design; wooden grip, long barrelled. It had been converted at some point; the traditional six cylinder casing had been replaced with a much larger eight cylinder giving the whole gun a rather comical look. The metal work was covered in old markings that Stephen could not make out, however to his eyes they seemed to glow ever so slightly. Surprisingly it weighed nothing. He span it a couple of times and opened the cylinder to check the calibre.
‘Takes whatever you put in it, Watchman.’ Patience remarked; her grip on the orb becoming tighter.
Another voice spoke to Stephen now, the words were quiet; almost nothing and he couldn’t make them all out. The voice was that of a man, deep, resonant like a far off rumble of thunder, it was practically unintelligible.
‘You can hear him, cant ya Watchman.’ She was excited now and leaning forward she adjusted herself so that the orb between her legs was resting on the chair.
‘Yes, but I can’t make out what it is saying.’
‘You will, in time. But now the price you must pay.’ Patience moved aside the shawl revealing the orange orb that she had been keeping hidden. The glow encompassed the room and made Stephen shield his eyes with his free hand. It was like a second sun was rising.
‘You have Petra.’ Stephen squirmed as he felt another tug on his mind. But this tug was not a man’s, it was a woman’s; it tugged at him, and then eased back releasing its grip caressing him as it drifted back. The orange light dimmed ever so slightly, enough for the two of them to un-shield their eyes.
‘I have her; she has me, who the fuck knows. What I do knows is that this girl gets hungry and it aint no beef or pig that will keep her happy. She graves what only I was once able to give her. But times have moved on and old age has crept on me like a cat chasing a mouse. People don’t come here no more. They fear what lives in the hut at the edge of the desert.’
She covered the orb back up with her shawl and eased herself up. Patience hobbled over to the Watchman her eyes not leaving his. Stephen was shocked at how small she was, how thin and frail and wretched a person could become. As much as he wanted to though he didn’t back away.
When the two were as close as they could get she leaned up and grabbed hold of his face with one of her dirty hands. The stench was almost unbearable.
‘Jonah is her only salvation now.
Petra is the strongest of all the sisters. If ya don’t keep her happy then she could end this world, and any others, with but a single breath. When ya kill with that gun the soul leaves the body and finds its way into Petra’s mouth. The more kills the happier the Petra and the safer we all are. Kill enough and the gun can fall silent, for a time. But the two are connected, ya savvy? Cause and effect.’
Stephen pushed her hand away, leaned over and picked up his small pack. Patience scurried back to her chair and sat down hard.
‘That gun will bring you everything you ever wanted and you won’t think twice about pulling its archaic trigger once it takes a hold of ya. Even when Petra has had her fill that metallic cunt wants to take more. Nobody is safe. Not even yer precious Sorcerer and that reptile Barnabas.’
Stephen wiped away the sweat from his brow, looked once more at the weapon and quickly placed it in his back pack. Jonah uttered something but Stephen couldn’t make it out. It was like trying to hear a voice through water.
‘Time to be leaving, I think.’ Stephen uttered as he turned and walked through the doorway.
‘Don’t deny him, Stephen,’ Patience yelled, ‘Don’t try and hold him back. He will seek out another and then you will be one of the souls Petra chews on!’
4
Peering into the orb, seeing futures that may or may not come to pass, Patience spoke ugly things to her only companion left in her miserable existence. Petra spoke back to her, softly, like a lover after the act had been undertaken. It spoke of the girl, Susie and of what the Watchman had left inside of her. It spoke of how she wanted the little one, needed and then pleaded for Patience to get it.
It was the only way to continue. We can’t trust the Watchman. It was the only way to stop her turning the world red.
5
Stephen headed back into Rockfall following the rough path he had been on a few hours ago. He hurried at first, the vileness of the hut clinging to him, but eventually the smell left his nostrils and the sickness in his gut left.
We shall start off slow
We shall start off easy
Maybe one or two
You can’t ignore me forever, not if you want to live
He climbed a small outcropping and headed down into a shallow valley. The heat was easing now, the time seeming to run faster out in the wilds but it was still hot. Ahead was a derelict shed slightly off the main path but close enough that there was no chance of losing his way. The main door, bleached the colour of bone was bolted shut, the lock and chain as rusty as the water wells iron works but even with all his strength he could bust it open. Instead he hunkered down in the shade of the shed and placed his back pack between his legs.
The gun had fallen silent so he took the opportunity to eat a little jerky and take in what had just happened. She was a tricky old fool that was sure. Back in the day she would have been a troublesome resident of this place; respected for what she could do, especially the healing aspects, but feared. If he looked back he would no doubt see news articles of missing people, children and animals with all evidence pointing to the witch but not enough to convict. Even if there was want no way a fat old Sheriff and a limpy Deputy gonna attempt to take down someone like Patience.
Stephen took one final swig and behind a bush made his water.
Don’t think I’ve gone, Watchman. I’m still here.
‘Go fuck yerself.’
Now, now. No need for that.
Stephen lifted the back pack and took out the gun. The markings had disappeared replaced the gun metal he was used too. Apart from the larger casing it was just a regular revolver. Well, as regular as one of the ancient weapons could be. Compared to the shoddy handmade guns made by today’s ironmen these were like diamonds in a sea of mud.
‘Jonah.’ It was a strange name, old, one of the first men Stephen had read about. He un-holstered his usual gun and removed the six bullets; placing them into Jonah’s casing leaving two spare holes.
That’s it. Baby steps. I will ignore the two missing slugs.
Stephen closed the casing and spun it. It was clean sounding with an even turn though he would use his kit on it tonight just to be sure.
Don’t scrub too hard
‘That’s enough, Jonah. Let’s be clear, here. I shall kill; I have no issues there for I can always find a crook or two but I will not have ya spouting off every two minutes if it does please ya!’
Tetchy, tetchy, but okay. I can be quiet, but I can have my uses. For instance, with yer eyes closed, turn, point me at two o’clock just below shoulder height
‘No games.’
No games. Do this and I shall remain quiet until called for
Stephen breathed out and rolled his eyes before closing them, turning, aiming and firing. The explosion from the gun was monstrous, echoing through the small valley and causing dust from the floor to bellow up like some terrible storm.
Open your eyes oh great warrior. Your thanks will not be required
Stephen opened his eyes using his spare hand to shade them from the intense sun. He couldn’t quite believe what was ahead of him and his stomach dropped at the thought that he hadn’t seen this coming and once again that he had been saved by someone other than himself.
Not twenty feet away, slumped against a rock, blood pumping from a hole where its heart had once been, covered in old robes and pieces of bolted on metal work was a sub human creature known to the locals as a Clicker. Its pale twisted face as shocked as Stephens, its crooked arms swaying from the impact and its sightless white eyes as lifeless as they had been in life. Its bowed legs gave way and it hit the floor hard, dust spooling in the hot air. This pestilent creature clicked no more.
6
It was well past five before Stephen walked through the batwing doors and into the Travellers. Susie had been waiting, somewhat irrationally for him to return and now that he was back she poured him a beer and had it ready as he approached the bar.
He didn’t look at her, focusing his attention on the beer and ensuring every last drop was poured down his throat. He wiped his wet mouth and stifled a belch. At the end of the bar a familiar voice chuckled, but that was quickly swallowed up by Susie.
‘Good day?’
Small talk. Oh the joys.
‘Aye, Susie. Good enough. Good enough. Is Cathy about?’
Susie looked troubled. ‘No, she’s off with John grabbing barrels from out back. Why?’
Stephen took a small coin from his pocket and placed it on the bar next to his pint glass. ‘We mentioned no coin this morning, but best she gets this. I don’t want you picked up by someone else.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Her little smile was coming back. ‘Another beer?’
‘Stephen nodded. ‘Aye, two please. One for the room. I need to freshen up.’ He turned his attention to his would be apprentice, ‘You get the bits I asked for, prentice?’
Tommy hopped down from his barstool. ‘Yep. They is up in yer room already.’ He didn’t mention the remaining coins weighing down his pocket.
‘Good, good.’
Susie placed the two beers on the counter and leant over as to shield their conversation from the rest of the bar.
‘Everything all right? You seem distracted? Are we okay?’
He smiled and nodded waiting for a passer-by to move on before he spoke. ‘Tired and thirsty. That’s all. I’ve not been in company for so long I am used to keeping much to myself. Look, I will be down tonight at some point for dinner and then when you finish we can talk then, okay?
Bright smiles now. ‘Okay, Stephen. I look forward to it. Should be an early finish so we can spend some time getting to know each other better.’
‘I would like that.’ Stephen grabbed the two beers and headed off up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway. Susie heard his door open and then close with a slam. She wasn’t aware that the bar had fallen quiet and she blushed as the few locals returned their attention from her back to their own sorry little lives.
‘What�
��s he mean, cold coin so no one else can haves ya?’ Tommy had moved himself along from the end of the counter to right opposite Susie. It startled her a little especially as she thought they had kept their small conversation pretty quiet.
‘Nothing Tommy. It’s just a joke we had. Now what have I told ya about eavesdropping?’ She swung her dishcloth at him and he fell back off his chair landing hard on his bum. The rest of the patrons didn’t even notice.
‘Not fair, Susie.’ Tommy yelled as he pulled himself up and brushed off the sawdust and dirt.
‘Get back to yer beer, Tommy. Leave me in peace for a while and I shall keep it topped up for ya, okay?’
Tommy slunk back into the corner and before sitting on the barstool he rubbed his bruised backside. Up until a few years ago, when the voice had started in his head, he wouldn’t have been able to sit still or stop himself from wetting his pants but now, with practice, Patience could speak to him and no one would suspect anything.
I know you loves her, Tommy. I know you want to put that dirty pink stick of yours inside of her.
No, it’s not like that. I means, I would like too but I want to be a good man to her. I can be a good man to her. ‘Specially now I’m an apprentice to a Watchman.
Alright, Tommy, don’t wet the bed. If ya want her then bring her to me. I can help you. I know you have loved her for a long time, since you were both young. I have always promised you that one day I would thank ya for all the work you have done for me so just bring her along tomorrow and by nights end I guarantee Susie will be ya little girlfriend.
But how? She doesn’t trust enough to come out to there.
Bring her to the shallow valley. Tell her about the yellow flowers that grow there. She has always liked them hasn’t she? I shall wait for ya and if she puts up a fight we can both deal with it.
Tommy smiled and back in her wretched hut, Patience smiled back.
For All Your Sins I Love…
1
That morning, whilst Stephen and Susie fucked for the first time, John had woken early, hunkered on the sofa in the back room. His wife’s house, for let’s not forget that he doesn’t own it and never really will, is huge, the biggest in Rockfall. His stomach felt fragile, his mind full of ache. He hated what he was going to do, hated himself but he had no choice. He had no choice?